Fallen soldiers
WE CAN REMEMBER, BUT CAN WE UNDERSTAND?
MELISSA HIEBERT STAFF
Remembrance Day, naturally, has always been a solemn holiday. It has been ever since grade school, when we all dutifully wore our red poppies, put on our best sombre faces, and filed quietly into the gym. Whereas most assemblies were an excuse to chatter in the hallways, no one dared to speak out of turn, and all stood at perfect attention while listening to “Taps” being performed on the trumpet. We desperately held in our sneezes, sniffles, and coughs during the moment of silence that followed, in which only the whirring sounds of the overhead fans echoing throughout the gym could be heard.
Yes, we were there to mourn the lives of all of those who have been lost in the war. Though war is still very much present throughout our entire world, it seems that with every passing generation in Canada, we become more and more detached from it.
It would be unfair to say that young people today have no concept of what Remembrance Day means. Everyone has been taught what a horrible thing war is from childhood, and everyone knows what it’s like to have lost a loved one. However, I think that we often don’t really get it anymore. With every generation, especially in Canada, we move farther away from really being immediately affected by war and, as they say, out of sight, out of mind. Fifty years ago, a good majority of people had at least one close family member — be it an uncle, a brother, a husband, or a father — in the army. Now, it would be rare to find someone with a family member fighting in a war, and even rarer still to find someone that has lost a loved one in battle.
Can young people today really understand what war is like? Have we ever lived through a major war? Have we ever had our loved ones forced off to fight, knowing that many of them would not make it back alive? Have we had to wave goodbye to our high school sweethearts — barely 18 and forced into combat — knowing that they will not be the same when they return? Or, have we watched as people around us get bombed, shot at, and killed, all the while wondering, “why not me?”
I may have never lived through a major war, but this year, however, Remembrance Day took on a whole new significance for me. My stepbrother, the youngest out of five of us, enlisted in the army. No, not the Canadian Army — the United States of America’s armed forces. Yes, my littlest brother, who I remember as a cute, cheerful eight-year-old, is now a full-blown American freedom fighter who could be whisked away into battle at any moment. And as I stare at his photograph, him barely 18 with a shaved head and perfectly pressed dark blue uniform, wearing the same goofy smile he wore when he was eight, I can’t help but think that one day I might be wearing this poppy for him.
I am as anti-war as it gets. At times, I will admit, the whole “these people fought so that you can be free” spiel makes me raise an unconvinced eyebrow (and I know I will not be popular for saying that). However, that does not mean that these people do not deserve the utmost respect. We have relatively no clue what it is like to live through a war, let alone participate in one. We have never had our relatives conscripted, and we have never watched hundreds of people get shot and killed right in front of us. Though war is present and prominent in our world, we are still damn lucky. If we remember all the soldiers who have lost their lives, and think of how fortunate we are to not have to go through the same things, then maybe we will work harder to put an end to war. Perhaps one day the poppy will truly become a symbol of remembrance, and not, in part, a preemptive gesture with respect to those who are currently fighting and dying in battle, and the thousands upon thousands who will in the future.
