Where Poppies Grow
Canada has not been attacked by foreign forces in over two hundred years. Our military engagements have been in defence of friends and allies, although certainly in colonial days not without considerable coercion. In the cause of freedom, Canadians have fought with valour and distinction, laying down their lives in defence of allies.
Or did our heroes lay down their lives for us? Because aggression knows no bounds, the appetite for conquest and brutal domination is never satisfied. When Canadian blood stained red the beaches of Dieppe, our soldiers were not just defending Britain, they were defending us all.
Games such as Call of Duty make war seem attractive, larger than life, a heroic adventure. It’s none of those things. War is invariably nasty, cold, wet, hellish, brutish, punishing, and traumatizing. Yet when it is thrust upon us by those who would use it as a tool of domination, we have no choice but to pick up the sword.
Increasingly, Remembrance Day, November 11, has become less and less observed, many of us questioning the relevance of a war that ended over a hundred years ago. In truth, there was nothing special or unique about World War One, and in many ways it was just another iteration of Europe’s Royal Family War Games. Yet because we felt it our duty, 619,000 out of a population of eight million donned a uniform.
In The Great War, Canadians, Newfoundlanders, and those of the other Commonwealth nations gave their lives by the hundreds of thousands, with more still coming home blind, gassed, maimed, and eternally traumatized. But they did what they had to do. And they still do.
Today war is very much with us as we watch Ukrainian men and women stand against aggression. With them, too, we must keep faith.