I REMEMBER!


I remember as a small child, hearing my parents speak in hushed tones of war. They spoke quietly of Dad’s brother, Uncle Bill, and how his life would be forever changed by the wounds he had sustained when he and his buddies of the Royal Hamilton Infantry, together with other Canadians and the English, landed at the Second Front – Dieppe.

I remember Uncle Bill showing us where pieces of shrapnel had entered and exited his body, leaving gleaming, white scars that would remain with him for the rest of his life.

When I was very young, I remember the sad look on my mother’s face and the tears in her eyes when she heard the word, “Korea.” I wondered how the mention of a place so far away could make my usually smiling mother turn her head and swipe away a tear.

I remember too, as a small child, being terrified of airplanes. If I heard the drone of a plane while playing in the yard of my southern Ontario home, I would run and hide in the corner where the chimney met the house. After all, planes meant bombs. Even though there had been no bombing on Canadian soil, I had heard the hushed whispers of family members speaking of “The Blitz” in England. And if I remember correctly, my brother had told me that planes brought bombs. Since he was not much older than I, it is obvious that he didn’t think it would leave me trembling every time I an approaching plane.

I remember going to school on November 11, (Remembrance Day in Canada) and standing at attention, silent tears welling when I thought of the men who had given their lives that I might live in a free country.

I remember Uncle Bert, who was stationed in Holland at the end of the war and how thankful the people of that country were to the Canadian Liberators.

I remember as a teenager, hearing the word, “Vietnam” and wondering why there was no peace in the world. I remember too the draft dodgers who ran to Canada to avoid fighting for their country.

I remember November 22, 1963, when my teacher left the room to answer the phone and came back, tears streaming down her face, to announce that President John F. Kennedy of the United States had been assassinated in Dallas, Texas.

I working in a bar and seeing a Vietnam Veteran, not much older than 20 years, come in still dressed in his camouflage.

The copyright of the article I REMEMBER! in Canadian Tourism is owned by Mary M. Alward. Permission to republish I REMEMBER! in print or online must be granted by the author in writing.

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