Lest we forget
Today, my father — a World War II veteran who turned 84 two days ago — will march in his small town’s Remembrance Day parade. His knees are too bad these days to do the entire parade, but he’ll march from the church service to the cenotaph for the wreath-laying ceremony.
Joining the Canadian Navy at 17 during wartime, he was on Corvettes doing convoy escort duty in the North Atlantic, landed troops in Normandy during the invasion, circumnavigated Africa to enter the Mediterranean via the Suez Canal, landed troops in Sicily for that invasion, and covered a lot of other territory during his time in uniform.
At 11am, if you don’t have your own veteran to think about, think of him on parade, his medals proudly displayed, his knees undoubtedly hurting in the chilly air, and his thoughts likely on those who fell beside him.
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Thanks for posting this Sandy; it brought tears to my eyes. When I spoke to him the other night he was so proud that he would be able to take part in at least a portion of the parade.