Remember !

I well recall Remembrance Day in Ottawa. As a Brownie, can you remember what a brownie was and it wasn't something you jammed down with your Timmies. Hello -- brown uniform, scarf, badges, beret and we stood the route to honour World War Veterans. At the time I thought it was a good day off from school and a good round of people watching.

As I sit here today watching Remembrance Day celebrations in Ottawa on the boob tube, it has a whole new meaning. It isn't that we are knee deep in poppies, wreaths, veterans' blue jackets, gray pants and berets covering the hairless with Grand Canyon wrinkles -- that's fact. Its the sadness that comes from watching now old men arrive in wheel chairs, walkers, on canes, and some marching proudly just like the day they arrived at Boot Camp -- kids. Its my understanding of 20 year old kids who sacrificed their lives for my freedom so I can sit here, write this Blog and not have to have a swastika on all my jackets. Thank God.

Its the one day when all the Natives, English, French, Blacks, Scots, Irish or whomever will shut the hell up, lay their wreaths just because they all got on the bus with the same cause in mind -- let's get Peace. Maybe it takes a war for bozos to get along, who knows? But believe me, for today, they will be standing along side each other behaving themselves and not quibbling about singing God Save the Queen in French. The lips will be moving trying to pretend they know french. Afterwards they might play wheel chair chicken swinging their canes like two guys in Grumpy Old Men disputing that the Government screwed over the natives,or the Irish suck, but for now all is quiet and I have my moment of Lest We Forget what we got from these guys -- freedom!!!

If you look deep into the old Veterans' eyes you will see the once dim witted twinkle of adventure. However, the tears of believing a pile of crap remain -- it was far from an adventure. They still cry for their buddies 60 years now gone but to them -- yesterday. They are unable to escape this era of horror. Little did the young boy know what they were hut, hut, hutting towards.

I recall looking at a picture of my own father prewar and then after. He looked twenty years older after 4 years. Gone was the happy face and home came the grave face. I guess so after digging so many. In those days they didn't just load your loved ones onto a plane but left them in Flanders field in Belgium or wherever. Many families still have no closure today. They just got a telegram or two folks showing up at your door with the I Wish to Inform You talk that your 20 year old kid is dead.

The sad thing about war is that we take a kid, take the civilian out of them and turn them into a killer so they can protect us. And when they return, after doing a job well done, we can't put them back into the change chamber and take the killer back out and turn them into a civilian, a happy kid again.

Instead we get back very physically wounded people coupled with emotional scaring from killing other human beings. Who can really live with that guilt -- conscience won't allow it. And for those that did not return, maybe the lucky ones who are memory free, the family has just an empty place at the table and a picture of a smiley kid in a uniform on the t.v. set with some medals draped over the edge. And watch what you say --he is their hero. If you say "war is stupid" -- their could be a war with you dodging beer bottles.

And that is the reason why the old Veterans should sit down and we stand and salute them. The Government should be passing out LCBO cards today for them and their families. In fact in the Veterans Hospital they should be given all the free booze they want intravenous or whatever to lift their spirits. So let them pee their pants, run down the hall naked and use their canes as pool cues --so be it. That would be government money well spent for a change. I for one don't want to look like an Arnolddetta on steroids horking up my words.

Even as I watch Prince Charles I'm impressed. Also he has dragged the lovely Camilla to Ottawa, with a hat showing the remains of the pheasants sacrificed for royalty, but he gets a standing ovation for showing up to thank those who put their lives on hold, at risk, to be our world class heroes. When we look at the Veterans we look at the best of Canada today. Actually we should have this ceremony once a month to view the scarred until we get it.

And having recently being the recipient of the dreaded folks at the door with the I wish to Inform you speech that a kid of 21 is gone, families are forever altered. It does not matter if it is the war of idiots, the war of substance, the war of Columbine or Iraq -- all you know is that a 21 year old kid went off and you will never see them again -- family casualties remain. There will always be a senseless empty seat at the table.

And my sympathy for those who will be getting the I wish to inform you speech today. Realize that some 21 year old Canadian girl at this moment may becoming a widow courtesy of Iraq. Imagine that a window at 21? And for those who don't know what to say to the families of the deceased, the "you will get married again" solution -- choke yourself. The survivors of kids killed want you to ask them questions. They want you to show interest in knowing their kid. Hell, look how much angst you have when you misplace your wedding ring and may never see it again. Suggesting you buy another ring just doesn't cut it.

And so if you get a chance today to sit along side a Veteran, and you strike up a conversation and are lovely enough to ask "tell me" good for you. It may be hours to recant their good old war tales. If you get bored and leave after they start to tell you about their friend Joe who got killed in enemy fire 60 years -- shame on you. They have earned the right to talk and our freedom is our obligation to listen.