November 11 is a statutory holiday in Canada: a day off for government employees, with schools and private businesses open or closed at the discretion of each province, reserved for the nation to honour all of those who fought and gave their lives for their country during wartimes. Thus it has been since 1931, when an act of Parliament set this date as one on which the armistice that ended the first World War should be commemorated. Originally named Armistice Day, it was renamed Remembrance Day to be less specific -- a day to honour the fallen in all wars.
The most striking monument to war dead I have seen is the National War Memorial in Ottawa. It was dedicated in 1939 by King George VI, with the shadow of the Nazi regime in Germany and floundering appeasement policies hanging over everyone's heads. His words still ring true more than a half-century later.
Without freedom there can be no enduring peace and without peace no enduring freedom.
George VI was dedicating the monument to Canada's lost soldiers and veterans from World War I; in 1982 it would be rededicated with new inscriptions added, this time including those who fought and those who died in World War II and the Korean War. Over a million and a half Canadians fought overseas during these conflicts. More than a hundred thousand of them died.
Every year, the Remembrance Day ceremony in Ottawa is broadcast live, coast to coast on CBC television. The proceedings take place with utmost solemnity; war veterans standing at the forefront with political leaders and their families. A wreath of poppies, brilliant crimson, is brought forward and laid at the foot of the cenotaph by members of the Canadian Armed Forces in dress uniforms. It takes place in reverent silence -- the contrast between this and the usual bustle of downtown Ottawa is almost eerie. Two minutes of profound silence, reflecting on what we have all lost to war, and then the quiet is broken by a lone bugle playing the Last Post.
At Ypres, during World War I, the Germans used poisonous chlorine gas for the first time. The trenches that the gas drifted over were full of Canadian soldiers. Painter A.Y. Jackson captured the image of chlorine hanging in the air in sketches that ultimately became watercolour paintings, ghostly green auroras swirling over tortured earth and an almost unnaturally black night sky. One out of every three in those trenches died, succumbing to the poison gas.
My grandfather served in the Canadian armed forces during the second World War. He was one of those who stormed the beach at Dieppe. The raid was a disaster; he was one of the lucky few who survived. Three-quarters of the Canadians who were involved were casualties. Less than half of the five thousand who landed on the beach made it back to England alive.
Of course, the dead are not the only casualties of war, nor are they the only ones who are honoured. The brilliant red poppies that Canadians wear on their lapels this time of year are made by disabled war veterans, with proceeds from their sale going back to the Royal Canadian Legion to fund its national veterans' programmes. Traditionally green-centred -– to represent the fields of battle –- the poppies were changed in 2000. Now they have black centres to reflect the black centres of real poppies, but the meaning has not changed: the flower is a symbol of hope, proof that nature can withstand the horrors of war, and has come to be a reminder of those who fought and died for peace.
The two minutes of silence called for at cenotaph ceremonies and nationwide at 11 am is not long enough to reflect on the ultimate sacrifice made by courageous men and women who volunteered to fight so that others might be free. In Ottawa, twenty-two servicemen are depicted in sculpture, passing underneath a vast granite archway. The statues atop it represent Peace and Freedom, lest we lose sight of the reasons for war, and the ultimate aim of having both endure.
Canadian art historian Heather Robertson says it best in the preface to her book, featuring collected works of Canadian war artists:
We must remember. If we do not, the sacrifice of those one hundred thousand Canadian lives will be meaningless. They died for us, for their homes and families and friends, for a collection of traditions they cherished and a future they believed in; they died for Canada. The meaning of their sacrifice rests with our collective national consciousness; our future is their monument.
Some information taken from Veterans Affairs Canada's website on Remembrance Day: http://www.vac-acc.gc.ca/remembers/sub.cfm?source=history/other/remember
Quotation taken from Heather Robertson's A Terrible Beauty: The Art of Canada at War, published by Lorimer in 1977.