to say, “They’re taking forever,” but

a quick thought about how those
“endless” groups are but a drop in

the ocean compared to those who
have given their lives puts things in
perspective. / have never stood, frozen-
cold, in a dank, muddy trench. J have
never sat in the rain for hours on end
waiting for orders from my superior.
My feet have never been so frostbitten
that amputation is the only option. /

have never had to watch my friends die.

I have never had to kill a man in hand-
to-hand combat. J have never felt the
poisonous burn of mustard gas. They
have. I quit my moaning and bear my
“pain”; my “sacrifice” is nothing.

The laying of the wreaths is
finished now, and an announcement
that the ceremony has finished rings
throughout the square. A steady stream
of people begins to make their way
from the area, but I linger—I am
loathe to leave. The last unit of Cadets
marches by. A crowd hangs about the
cenotaph wishing one last moment
to pay their respects. I join them. It
is a sobering sight, yet, I feel proud.
Proud that mankind still possesses
an undeniable sense of gratitude, an
understanding of what has been done

for them. Our veterans’ sacrifice was
not in vain.

The ride home is full of reflection.
I cannot shake the fact that there were
so few young people present. The
Cadets aside, I am not confident that
I saw any teens. It disturbs me, but I
cannot say I am surprised. Mine is a
selfish “me first” generation. A morning

a Pe.

responses, and I pray that these are
relatively unique attitudes, but if
today’s attendance were a testament

to attitude, then it is obvious that they
are not. I had not realized the extent of
my generation’s self-centredness. I did
not know there was a lifetime quota
for Remembrance Day ceremonies.
Granted, this is not the view of all

“The ride home is full of reflection. | cannot shake the fact that
there were so few young people present. The Cadets aside, | am not
confident that | saw any teens. It disturbs me, but | cannot say | am

surprised. Mine is a selfish “me first” generation.”

in the cold for a few hours is not high
on a list of priorities unless there is

an iPad at the end of it. I had asked
the question throughout the week of
whether people would be attending a
ceremony on Remembrance Day, and,
if not, why? The answers I received
should have prepared me for the dearth
of adolescents on Friday, but in my
naivety, I had held out hope. In vain.
Among the answers I received were,
“I went to plenty of ceremonies in
school. I think I’ve been to enough,”
and, “I just watch it on TV. It’s more
comfortable that way.” Really? These
two were among the most outrageous

young people, but there is clearly a
significant portion that feels so. Many
seem to view the day as just another
day off, just another cause for a long
weekend, just another celebration.

I know many who used the day to
party and hang out with friends: all
legitimate, so long as they spend more
than one minute in remembrance. I
wish this were a situation in which
the finger could be pointed at a certain
group (teachers, parents, society) for
failing to properly educate the young,
but it is not. Every student is taught
about the various battles, the untold
numbers of dead, and the significance

a
(Pinrutt

of the day. Schools have their own
ceremonies every year during school.
If something is important enough to
use class time for, then it must be a
very major occasion. There is no one to
blame for the young’s lack of respect. It
is just a distressing fact that numerous
adolescents simply can’t be bothered.
So many simply memorize their texts,
take the test, and move on with their
lives.

My SkyTrain pulls into my stop.
The ride is over for me. Remembrance
Day is coming to an end, but I will
not forget, must not forget. A debt of
gratitude to our veterans. Our freedom
is only possible through their sacrifice.

 

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