By James Smith

November 13, 2014

BURLINGTON, ON

I remember this past Tuesday. I’m standing in my office staring at the framed memento, almost 100 years old. A thing I’ve looked at and read countless times; “In the Service of the Nation”. Standing silently I read the names of the engagements: Chateau Thierry, Soissons, Argonne. Argonne, where he received his Purple Heart. The Purple Heart is framed and kept by one of my brothers, now retired from the American Military.

I remember. I remember being a child, holding the medal in my hand and can still feel how heavy & cold it was. How odd to touch the engraved name, the same name as me. I can now hear the TV downstairs again. Two minutes are up, all over, go back to what you were doing. Except I keep thinking of him, his easy smile, the shock of thick white hair, the soft voice that gave his birthplace away despite decades of life in Hell’s Kitchen. He’d never talk about the war, we kids would press but he’d cloud over and say something like “The park is no place to talk of such things”. The most he would ever say is that it was a quick way to become a REAL American.

I remember his funeral. I was just old enough to know that Vietnam was starting to go badly and my own childhood notion of going to America and joining the US Marines was starting to fade as a real goal. The flag draped coffin and the honour guard suddenly seemed very scary to a ten year old. I almost cried in shock when the rifle volleys sounded. The folded flag presented to my Grandmother made me think of what I had been seeing on the TV and the young men being killed in Vietnam.

I remember looking at the Empire State Building in the distance as we made our way back to the limousine and thinking as sad as I was, what would it be like if this was one of my cousins? What if it was my dad being lowered into the ground? I’ve sometimes thought back to that springtime week in New York as the time when I started to wonder about such things that Edwin Starr would sing about a few years later in his song WAR!

I remember the following November and learning to recite In Flanders Field (I still can by the way). At the Remembrance Day assembly not only did I recite John McCrae’s Poem but I introduced the speaker. A First World War Vet, a kindly and grandfatherly gentleman. He kept me on stage to hold his tin hat after I introduced him. The helmet had an odd slice in the back flange, I put my fingers in the hole as I nervously continued to stand on stage, the slash in the steel felt cold and jagged and I wondered about the hole.

Our guest spoke not about war, but about the peace that he hoped we had gained through the horror of three wars. He told us of his wish that peace would fill our days so us kids would never have to see any of the horror that he, and my late Grandfather did. As he concluded his address he took a piece of metal out of his pocket and said how luck he was to be speaking to us and had me hand him his helmet back. With this nasty chunk of metal in one hand and the helmet in the other, he neatly locked the shrapnel into the hole in the tin hat. The audience gasped. After the assembly at recess I was briefly a cool kid because I had held this army helmet, but I recall being somewhat confused by the experience. I still am.

I remember and honour those who’ve served and those who’ve died and respect those who still continue to wear the uniform. I think all Canadians are a little more mindful and respectful this November after the killing of Warrant Officer Patrice Vincent, and Corporal Nathan Cirillo. But war should never be an option until every other option has been tried and found wanting. Since the Korean War Canada has a proud history of Peace Keeping, a tradition that some would have us move away from. In fact we have very few remaining Peacekeepers in this world and I don’t like this trend. I think my grandfather and others of his generation would tend to agree with me.

In their book WARRIOR NATION: REBRANDING CANADA IN AN AGE OF ANXIETY, Ian McKay and Jamie Swift talk about the “New Warriors” who are “looking to shift public opinion.” They speak of “zealots” who would “transform postwar Canada’s central myth-symbols. Peaceable kingdom. Just society. Multicultural tolerance. Reasoned public debate.” They would replace these traditions with “A warrior nation. Authoritarian leadership. Permanent political polarization.” Vimy Ridge it seems is more important than Baldwin and LaFontaine, MacDonald and Cartier, Laurier and the settling of the west or many other achievements.

A battle in a useless war is now being spoken of as what “made” Canada. This trend troubles Messrs McKay and Swift enough they’ve written a book, and this trend fills me with an empty feeling. The first world war was a war between Empires that was foolish, brutal, stupid and avoidable. As a colony Canada was involved because we had no choice. That men fought, and fought bravely should be remembered, but so should the fact that it wrecked and bankrupted Europe and set the table for Fascism and Stalinism and the further horror that was the second world war. That we should say our nation “came of age” because brave men killed other brave men in a war that we had no say in seems to me to the acme of jingoistic nostalgia for the good old days of Red Ensigns and Rule Britannia not the foundation of the amazing country we live in today.

I remember an all but forgotten monument on University Avenue in Toronto. You’ve likely seen it, just north of Queen Street, it’s the memorial dedicated to those who died in the Boer War. The monument features two heroic young Canadian lads marching off to do battle. As they look to the middle distance, they march in the direction a young Britannia is pointing to.

Whenever I see this monument it always make me think she’s saying: “Go! Go forth & defend the Empire good lads! Africa must be free of the evil Dutch farmers and safe for gold & diamond mines and to build Apartheid! GO my lads GO!” It is a lonely and sad monument that seems to be forgotten. Many men fought bravely for Queen and Empire, four Victoria Crosses were awarded to Canadians in that war. Given the precedent of this forgotten monument why not dust that off too and say Canada was born on the Veldt at Paardeberg rather than Vimy Ridge? I say it’s just as relevant.

I remember visiting Sarajevo. Back when it was still Yugoslavia and I stood on the spot where Franz Ferdinand and his wife Sophie were assassinated. The spot where the match was struck that started the Great War, and it seemed so ordinary and almost shabby. How did such a quaint and diverse city, an Olympic host city later become a place of such carnage in the Bosnian war? I bet I know part of the reason. Hate. Intolerance. Envy. Authoritarian Leadership. Political Polarization. Military Zealots.

We need to rid our landscape of such things. That the military will always be a large part of Remembrance day goes without saying. But we need to always ensure that our Remembrance Day ceremonies do not become jingoistic celebrations of conflict. The reason we remember those who served and who have fallen is to also reflect on the Peace and what is left of our Freedoms due to the service and the sacrifice of so many. We lose these freedoms through our complacency and acceptance of what the generals want.

Just to let you in on a teeny weeny secret; since at least the time of the Sumerians, the Generals have never had enough toys, and they always want to play with their toys.

I remember in the 1970’s some wag saying “rather than declare war on a little country, we should declare Peace on all countries”. I’d like to suggest we take this idea up and start a new tradition for our next Canada Day; two minutes of silence while we think about what we can do for Peace in our homes, workplaces, cities, provinces and our country. Perhaps then we can build a world that’s more like what my Grandfather would have liked to think that his service helped to build.

 James Smith is an architectural technologist who dabbles in politics and has been described as an essayist. The above is his most recent pondering.