With November 11th fast approaching I am heart wrenched at what the past year has taught me in the realities of war and what Remembrance Day means. I have always been proud of my country, have always been honoured by what we have stood for in past wars, and have always been humble as a military wife. I learned early on in my military lifestyle the importance of honouring our fallen soldiers when only two years in my husband’s best friend died in an accident overseas. It was an accident in a country where they were only doing peacekeeping. It was important for me for my husband to always remember. A couple years ago, we said good bye to another dear friend, lost this time in the heat of battle in a fight against terrorism. For those that know me and have kept up with my blogs you have already read about Shane, a friend of Ron’s who no matter how far away they were posted away from each other, still managed to stop in and visit every year when he went to see family in Alberta where we were posted at the time. We as a family have lost four friends overseas throughout the years, so you can see that Remembrance Day is not just another day for me, it’s not just an excuse to take some time off work, and it’s not just another “holiday”.
This year during my service overseas I stood for 12 ramp ceremonies for 14 soldiers, one of which was a friend. I had hoped this year to wear my medal, and stand proud among the other onlookers paying respect for their war dead. I was informed however that the Embassy here does not pay tribute to Remembrance Day, after some distaste from one Embassy member it was decided that a small ceremony would take place with a five minute speech from the Ambassador. A slap in the face to those lost, and an excuse in laziness from Canada for not taking time to pay respect to their soldiers.
As Remembrance Day means something to me, I promptly donned my poppy on November 1, packing it with my luggage for Italy, the only one I brought from Canada. For me, I will commemorate on my own as I stand faithfully at home, and bow my head at 11:00 for two minutes of silence; tears will more than likely be shed, as the thought brings water to my eyes now, and at 12 noon, I will carefully put my poppy away until next year again.
This year during my service overseas I stood for 12 ramp ceremonies for 14 soldiers, one of which was a friend. I had hoped this year to wear my medal, and stand proud among the other onlookers paying respect for their war dead. I was informed however that the Embassy here does not pay tribute to Remembrance Day, after some distaste from one Embassy member it was decided that a small ceremony would take place with a five minute speech from the Ambassador. A slap in the face to those lost, and an excuse in laziness from Canada for not taking time to pay respect to their soldiers.
As Remembrance Day means something to me, I promptly donned my poppy on November 1, packing it with my luggage for Italy, the only one I brought from Canada. For me, I will commemorate on my own as I stand faithfully at home, and bow my head at 11:00 for two minutes of silence; tears will more than likely be shed, as the thought brings water to my eyes now, and at 12 noon, I will carefully put my poppy away until next year again.
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