Remembrance Day

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It is quintessentially Canadian to hear or say this poem on November 11. All school children learn it. Not all say it properly. It's not meant to be read in a sing-song fashion, taking a break at the end of each line, but instead you should read it according to the punctuation. It's a tiny pet peeve of mine - the English major coming out, but I still find it to be very moving.

There is a cenotaph in almost every town. Even small towns have war memorials. Here are images to show you what they may look like.

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Community members, members of local Legions, representatives from schools, kids who belong to Cadets, and a variety of others gather for Remembrance Day services. The Last Post is played on a trumpet, followed by a minute of silence, and then Reveille is played to end the silence. Wreaths are laid. Often the names of community members who served in war are read. A solemn parade brings those who officiate the service to the cenotaph. Sometimes bagpipes are involved. Bagpipes inevitably make me cry.

My memories of watching Remembrance Day services on tv are always of people like these.

The remaining veterans, and there are fewer and fewer, would be out there, proudly wearing the clothes that defined their regiment, in all kinds of weather. There would be a few poor old souls in wheel chairs with plaid wool blankets draped over their legs. I cannot imagine the memories that go through their minds at these services, and for that I am thankful.