This day is known in the United States of America as Veterans Day. In my childhood it was called Armistice Day by the wizzened, white haired old men in the little towns that I grew up in in Montana. When I lived on the Prairies of Southern Alberta in Canada, it was Remembrance Day. On our first Remembrance Day north of the 49th parallel, we watched the Prime Minister, Pierre Trudeau lay a wreath at the Tomb of The Unkown at the Cenotaph in the Capital of the Dominion, Ottawa. The current PM, Justin Trudeau seems to be a no show for this and it pains me. That is all I will say about that “gentleman.” At the precise moment of 11 minutes after 11 Eastern Time, the entire country of Canada came to a stop….. Let that sink in. Bill Paisley would understand being a former resident of the Maritimes.
The Poem, Flander’s Fields has meaning for me in that a Great Grandfather of mine came to the United States from Ypres in Flanders, now the present day Belgium. I do not consider that blood to be Belgian but Flemish to this very day.
Whatever your background and political persuasion, always remember….
There are those of us who did our time in Forces, whether it was a four year hitch or a twenty year plus career, we give you our gratitude this day……
For those who are no longer with us is this.
“They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them.”
Among The Joshua Trees 