Every day, as I bounce through life (well, okay, my "bouncing" is less like Tigger and more like an ever-exhausted dragggg), I rarely think of the sacrifices given by so many to make this country the free space it is.
Remembrance Day comes and suddenly we are face-to-face with the IDEA of war...not that we understand it to any degree. Not that those of us who have never been to battle can commiserate or comprehend. But the IDEA of it rests before us...
The forever gratitude.
Yesterday as I was accessioning (Fancy Nancy would say "that's a fancy word for putting things into records") two war artifacts I couldn't help but observe the dichotomy...one of a soldier that survived, returned home to marry and have a family. And a second of one that did not.
A long black wood-framed photo of Squadron No. 3 in Toronto the June of 1940 just before departing for overseas. Brave and solid (and young, oh so young!) soldiers stood at attention. Second row ninth from the left: Edwards. He survived. Came home. Likely "broken".
The other artifact was an incredible "set" of war records gained from a teacher in Ottawa whose student is researching the only Mount Forest man to lose his life on the shores of Normandy . The official government registers document Irwin Archibald "Bing" Lytle's history as a soldier from his enlistment to final information regarding the plot in France to where his body was exhumed. Even a copy of the telegram informing his mother of his death was included. He obviously did not survive. Did not come home. Broken in a very extreme fashion.
Did it haunt the ones who survived? Did they forget about their own sacrifices? Forget that they were just as integral to our freedom?
The forever gratitude.
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