Today is Remembrance Day in Canada — a melding of both Veterans Day and Memorial Day, for the Americans in the crowd.
The first war that I remember is the Gulf War, 1990-91. I wasn’t born yet during Vietnam or Korea, let alone the two world wars. But I’ve spoken about them with people who were.
My father might well have fought in Vietnam, had he been American instead of Canadian.
My mother’s uncle died at Dieppe, along with 900 other Canadian men.
My grandfather’s generation lived through the German occupation of Norway. When I visited Norway years ago, one of my elderly relatives told me stories: how he learned German in school instead of English, how German soldiers once came to the farmhouse for food. Another relative took me to see WWII bunkers overlooking the Norwegian coast.
I had been fascinated by that war for a long time, but speaking to those who had lived through the fighting, not overseas but right in their own country, made it real to me as it had not been before.
We have new wars now, young veterans. These wars are messier, but the vets are worth honouring and supporting just the same.
So each year on November 11 I pause, and remember.