Remembrance Day

Remembrance Day – also known as Poppy Day, Armistice Day (the event it commemorates) or Veterans Day – is a day to commemorate the sacrifices of members of the armed forces and of civilians in times of war, specifically since the First World War. It is observed on 11 November to recall the end of World War I on that date in 1918.

I have to be honest. As a child and a younger adult I was not overly interested in Remembrance Day I am ashamed to say. I did not understand and did not seek out the answers in order to grasp the significance of November 11th. I was not interested in the sacrifices made by so many selfless Canadians on my behalf. It wasn't until the start of my family history work that I could finally put a human face onto the meaning of the day, and fully appreciate what it was about. Once the significance was clear it became very important to learn all I could about my ancestors and the part they played towards our freedoms today. I collected documents from the internet such as the enlistment papers of my deceased relatives, photos of the war graves, a page from the 1st World War Book of Remembrance. I gathered photos and stories and my cousin Lynda supplied letters that were written by my Great Uncle Doug, some from the front lines of the war at Vimy Ridge, France over 90 years ago. These artifacts brought my ancestors to life and how could I not be forever touched by the details I had come to learn. I must relay some of what I had learned, here and now, to honor their memory.

My two great uncles... George Douglas (75th Bn, Canadian Infantry...enlisted 03 Sept, 1915 at Trenton, Ontario) and his brother Edward Hector Friend (80th Overseas Bn CEF, enlisted 06 Nov, 1915 at Trenton, Ontario) after enlisting arrived in England on May 30, 1916 and were sent to France. Although Doug was of age, Hector was a mere 14 when he enlisted.
The powers that be became aware of this fact and sent Hec home July 10, 1917, but he was not formerly discharged until March, 1918. By then he had been promoted to the rank of Corporal. Both Doug and Hec saw the bloody battles of the Somme.

An excerpt from one of the letters, dated Jan 1, 1917, Doug wrote to his family from a trench:

I am writing this from the trenches where we have just spent New Years and also Xmas. On Xmas day I had nothing to eat until supper when I fared sumptuously on bully beef and hard tack. He signed it Pte Doug Friend (Sniper).

Another letter, dated Feb 4, 1917 says... I am out for a 6 days rest after 18 days in the trenches.
I think this war brings a man closer to God than ever before. At the last front we were on, there was a piece called Death Valley that Fritz used to (illegible) with shells all the time, it is lined with dead and at every crossing of it, someone is killed. I had to cross it on my trips to and from the front line and every time I crossed I used to repeat to myself these words, Yea tho' I walk thro' the Valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.

A telegram arrived home on March 16, 1917, declaring Doug missing on March 1st. A second telegram arrived March 21st, declaring Doug officially reported killed in action March 1st, 1917.

Douglas is forever remembered with honor at the Vimy Memorial, Pas de Calais, France. And forever lovingly remembered by his remaining family 91 years later.

Hector upon his return home, moved to Windsor Ontario and changed his name to Edward Johnston. He lived there with his wife and children until his death in 1962. He was buried at Windsor Grove Cemetery in the military section honoring his years of service.

With all I have learned, I now am proud to say I respectfully honor our fallen each and every Remembrance Day. I have also memorialized my ancestors in my scrapbooks with all the information I have found through my research and I enjoy going through it every year close to November 11th and personally remembering my great uncles' sacrifices. On November 11th at 11:00 am I plan on stopping what I am doing and reflecting upon why I am thankful to be a Canadian.

In Flander's Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flander's fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, tho poppies grow
In Flander's fields.

Liet. -Col. John McCrae