Remembering on Behalf of my Father

 

This may be a day late, but on Remembrance Day the memories for this post came to mind.

 

I met several of my father's peers who had served in WWII and as a young boy, I was interested to know what my father's role was as he was the right age to have served. He was willing to tell me and my sisters of his experience. Having grown up in a Mennonite home and church, it was strongly expected that he would take a non-resistance stance. He did and as a result did alternative service, first working in a meat packing plant and then later moving to Port Alberni to plant trees.

 

The young men that he grew up with and went to school with enlisted and all were part of a division of Canadian soldiers that were involved in the Dieppe Raid. This incursion into France was a practice run for the major invasion that would come later. The date was August of 1942 and my dad would have just turned 20. It was a bit of a disaster and all of my dad's friends died on the beach.

 

He told me several times later in life that he felt guilty that he had not gone into battle as his friends had done. As I think about that, I realise that I would not be here if he had gone. That leaves me feeling very thankful for those that did go, that I might have not only freedom and democracy, but life itself.

 

I never met my dad's friends, but I will honour them with my remembrance. My red poppy is for them.