I've often been told that it's unusual for someone my age to observe Remembrance Day the way I do. People assume that I must have close family ties to someone who served, and my grandfather did serve with the merchant marines, but that's not why. The best answer that I can think of is that I know and once you know you cannot unknow. I've read letters from the front, seen photos, heard stories. I've studied the maps, military strategies and politics. I've seen the tears of those that served as they remember the ones that aren't here with them. Every November 11 I step away from my life to stand outside in the cold, with a poppy on my coat, because I know.

I suppose I could date it back to my brief stint with the Girl Guides. It was my first and only year of Brownies when I was chosen to be one of the flag bearers in my community's Remembrance Day ceremony. I honestly couldn't tell you which flag it was that we carried (possibly the Canadian one) but I remember there was solemnity to the ceremony. Since I was standing at the front of the ceremony facing the entire audience I had to pay attention. I really had to listen. That was the day it started to sink in. It was the beginning of my knowing.

For our thanks, in giving, if oft delayed,
Though our freedom was bought - and thousands paid!
And so, when we see a poppy worn,
Let us reflect on the burden borne
By those who gave their very all
When asked to answer their country's call
That we at home in peace might live.
Then wear a poppy! Remember - and Give!
- Why Wear a Poppy, Don Crawford

The next Remembrance Day that I recall having significance was my first one in university. You see, where I grew up Remembrance Day was not a school day. I was literally stunned when I got to university to find out that not only were there classes on Remembrance Day but there was no formal recognition of the day on campus. STUNNED. This was a school where there were memorials to those students who served spattered about the campus. It was at this campus where I studied history and I'd find the name of the school pop up in history books connected with Canada's involvement in the two World Wars. I took an entire course in Canadian military history there, and there men in that class that whose careers would be in the military. It was largely because of this school that I can say "I know." It was also here that I studied anthropology and the importance of rite and ritual - of ceremonies. And yet there was no recognition of the men and women who called it their alma mater when they were on the front lines.

It wasn't until after university that I'd attend another Remembrance Day ceremony. The year after I graduated they started holding a ceremony, between classes, at my school. What stands out for me that year wasn't the ceremony, but the moment when I asked my boss if he had any objections to me leaving work briefly to attend. Once he recovered from his surprise it was no problem (and I've never had a problem with an employer when I've asked to take time off to attend). The following year several more people at that company joined me for the service.

When I moved to Toronto I started attending the ceremony at Old City Hall. While I was surprised by how few people attended the ceremony (relative to the amount of people in the downtown core at least), my heart was happy with the emotions there. I remember one man in particular. He was in military uniform, wearing the blue beret of Canadian peacekeepers. His pin with P.P.C.L.I identified him as part of the Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry. He was a long way from home. And I remember how a parent with her two children went up to him and asked him questions - about the beret, about his uniform - and how they thanked him. It was also there that I really started to see the first of the modern day veterans and started seeing families lay wreaths for the Canadians that have died in Afghanistan.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders Fields.
- In Flanders Fields, Dr John McRae, 1915

But what kills me at every single one of these ceremonies are the older men and women in uniform. The big strong men, who remind me of my grandfather, who stand there with tears in their eyes. The women, the former CWACs and Wrens, whose smiles are tinged with sadness. Their youth was so different from my own. I grew up in an era of peacekeeping. Their youth was spent in an era of war unlike those that my generation has seen - a war that touched every citizen.

They shall not grow 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.
- For The Fallen, Laurence Binyon - 1914

When I was younger there were a few WWI veterans. Now there is only one left in Canada, John Babcock. He is 108 years old. When he served in WWI it was known as The Great War and was supposed to be The War to End All Wars. When he dies the living memory of WWI in Canada will no longer exist. This is partly what moved actor RH Thompson to create Vigil 1914-1918. Starting on November 4 the names of all 68,000 Canadian men and women who died in WWI are being highlighted on momuments across Canada and at Canada House in London, England. Each name, one at a time, in lights.

Today I will head to another ceremony, as will thousands of people across the country. It will be my first in Canada's national capital and my boyfriend's first ever. A couple of years ago I wrote on my personal blog why it was so important to me that I attend these ceremonies. What I wrote then still stands today.

I will remember the innocence of the boys, for that’s what they were, in 1914 whose answer to our imperial “grey mother” was “Ready, aye, ready.” I will remember the women they left behind. I will remember that it was during the Great War that women got the vote and be reminded to never waste mine. I will remember the boys, yes again boys, who in 1939 when Canada, for the Great War had also made us our own nation, asked them this time to go oversees said, “I will”. I will think of the mothers who sent their children off to war as they had their brothers and sweethearts a mere 20 years earlier. I will think of the Canadians who have died in Afghanistan recently (and please, if you don’t believe they should be there hold your comments for today…today is for remembering that they were there and that they died and to honour that, they deserve a day to be honoured and not debated). And I will think of my grandfather.
[...]

I will listen to the Last Post, possibly the most mornful sound produced by an instrument, and stuggle not to tear up. It doesn’t matter where I hear that…it can be on the radio or the tv, but it’s like a punch in the gut every time.

I will watch the fly by over city hall, with one plane breaking formation to signify the fallen.

I will wear my poppy.

I will remember. Because that is part of my responsibility as a citizen. It’s part of my responsibility as someone who has lived after and who knows that my freedoms have come at a cost to others. It is my debt to them.

Today I will not break faith.

See Also:
Vancouver Island Adoption - Remembrance Day
The Art and Zen of Being Single - The Story of Remembrance
Tales of Life With a Girl on the Go - Vigil 1914-1918
Lands of the Silver Birch, Home of the Beaver - Remembrance Day is November 11
Bugs, Bikes and Brains - Lest We Forget
The Smitten Image - Remembering Our Heroes
Dawn_guy - Every Inch a Sailor
Terry Kelly's Pittance of Time and why he wrote it.

Contributing Editor Sassymonkey blogs at Sassymonkey and Sassymonkey Reads.