Many of us have never been to battle, never seen a comrade fall, never had to make a series of life-or-death decisions–all in the blink of an eye.
In fact, to the majority of the population, the concept of fighting for our freedom, or the freedom of others, is as surreal as those battlefields in the movies.
I remember the first time I sat with a veteran as he described the beach on D-Day as vividly as if it had happened just the day before.
When I looked into his eyes, I could almost see the reflection of the chaos around him, and I realized then that these were more than memories—they had become a part of who he was.
Now when I stand at a cenotaph on Remembrance Day, I remember the face of that veteran and the story of his heart beating as loud as the gunfire. I recall the look in his eyes as h Tess and Robert Coish, with help from the Fort Frances Lakers, pulled off another success; not only thrilled with those who came by but collectin e described the friends he lost and the burden he always will carry.
Those who have fought for my freedom deserve more than one moment of silence as I honour them for their sacrifice. They deserve my attention as they describe even one of the events that changed their lives forever.
This Nov. 11, we all should make a point of listening to the personal accounts of those who have fought to make this a better world. We need to make sure that when we speak of those who have “protected our democracy,” “fought for our freedom,” “and sacrificed on our behalf,” that we truly understand what those words mean.
The media will cover the stories of our veterans, and I strongly recommend we all take the time to listen to or read those accounts so that we know exactly what it is we should be thinking about as we pause for that moment of silence on Nov. 11.
It will help to remind us that the words “freedom” and “courage” do not merely represent concepts. They are a truly significant part of our daily lives.
Thank you to those whose bravery has enabled me to live the life I choose to live.