We Remember
Of all of the ways that this pandemic has affected our lives, and all of the things the effects of the virus have robbed us of, Remembrance Day seems to be the hardest thus far for me. Not for any other reason than that of being robbed of the opportunity to honor our fallen and each other in the way we are accustomed to, and a way that honors them rightly. To don our uniforms, polish our boots, form up and march. March with our comrades, and with the other veterans. To salute at the cenotaph and come to attention at the playing of our national anthems and Last Post. To join our brothers and sisters in arms, at the legion and the pubs for a pint. To be able to experience some of that comradery with others who know what it’s like to wear the same uniform, and to have led a life of service; whether that was for a year, or a lifetime. To tip a glass, together, in honor of our fallen comrades, and all of those who came before us. To remember those who paid the ultimate price, and sacrificed so much for our freedom.
I have to admit, not all Remembrance Days have been easy for me. On the contrary, in fact. After all of the trauma; physical and psychological, alike, and the ensuing illness and injury, some years have been very difficult for me; as it is and has been for most who’ve worn the same uniform. Two of the hardest, and that came with the most mixed emotions and divided loyalties, being; my last year serving and the year I released.
My final year in, I was unable to wear my uniform because of what it signified to me, at the time; the hurt, and pain that my service had caused me and my family. Loss, trauma, illness and injury. And, I could barely stand during the service because of my back which made it even more difficult to honour the fallen. So, I stood there, in civvies; unable to salute or show the pride I once had in my uniform and what it stood for. The following year was pretty much the same, but without the opportunity of deciding whether or not to wear my uniform; because I was no longer a serving member so, no longer permitted to wear that uniform. So, I stood back wishing that I had worn it the previous year; the last chance I had to wear it. The following year, I didn’t even go to the cenotaph for Remembrance Day. It had become too painful. The bad memories had started to fade a bit, as I began to heal but as they faded, the guilt of not wearing my uniform that one last time set in hard and had me feeling shame at not honoring our fallen the way I felt they should be honored. So, I stayed home and streamed the Ottawa service, instead. Then, tipped a glass in their honor; at home, alone and in pain. Like far too many of our other comrades have done and do.
Last year, I finally found a way of balancing the pride and the pain. A way of feeling pride in the wearing of a uniform again; as a Legion member. I updated my Legion membership, and went and bought a uniform and had it tailored, as I would have had done with my DEU’s when I was serving. I pressed it and added all of my elemental collar dogs, pins and badges, and even pulled my Thunderbird belt out of storage, to wear with this new uniform. And, on the eve before Remembrance Day, sat and polished my boots and formed my beret for parade, as I had done each year, so many times before. Suddenly, I felt that sense of pride again. Just polishing my boots was enough for it to feel like Remembrance Day for me.
This year, I find myself with yet another of those years, like my first year as a civilian again; without the ability to choose whether or not to wear my uniform, or attend the Legion after the service. Without the ability to spend that time with my comrades, tipping our glasses, and engaging in real remembrance for our fallen brothers and sisters. Without the choice to remember them as we both need and desire to honor them. And, without the freedom to engage in the kind of comradery that leaves us feeling better at the end of the day; because we were there, supporting one another through what is often an incredibly difficult and trying day for most. The difference being, that this year, we were robbed of this choice because of COVID. A pandemic that saw even more of our brothers and sisters suffer, sacrifice, and some even die, as a result of the inability to engage in similar kinds of comradery. Because of the isolation and missing supports, resulting from an enemy many of us weren’t prepared to fight; an invisible one.
Regardless of what our service looked like; what form it took, where or when we served, or for how long, we all fought some kind of battle. Whether that was overseas or at home, or after we left the service, we all fought. And, we all lost something, or someone; some of us, both. But we served. We served for our country. We served for each other. We served out of duty. We served with honor. Some of us, like me, served out of family uniform pride; with long lines of soldiers in our family who also served. Some, who died in service. Some who died because of their service. All, served in part, to honor those who came before us. None of us will ever forget.
None of us will ever forget the fallen. None of us will ever forget our brothers and sisters. None of us will ever forget our service. None of us will ever forget why we served. Why others served. Why we all served. We will never forget any of the sacrifices made by those brave men and women who don a uniform every day to keep others safe. And, no matter how we feel about that uniform at various different times; throughout our service and afterward, we will always feel pride in having worn it. And, no matter where we go, when we see someone wearing the same uniform, or with the same berets or signs that show they have served, we honor them, as well. There are no strangers in this brother/sisterhood. We are all brothers and sisters because of our service.
Thank you; to my family members, to my friends and to my comrades, who have served our countries with pride and dignity. Those who have battled abroad and those who have supported them at home. To those who paid the ultimate sacrifice and those who have served and sacrificed in other ways. To their families; who have supported them throughout their service, and some who continue to serve alongside them in the strong and brave way military families do. To my family, friends and comrades who died serving, and those who died because of their service. To our comrades who stood by us throughout our service, and supported us after our service. We remember you. We honor you. We thank you. And we will never forget what you have given, or what we now have; because of what you gave us.
And now, I tip a glass in your honor, even though we cannot gather together this year. I tip a glass in your honor, as I remember the fallen. I tip a glass in your honor, as I remember your service and sacrifice. As I remember my service. As I remember it all. As I remember you. And, I honor you, in your absence. Thank you. I remember.
Ex-Cpl Walsh, MP. Securitas