Dem
47
GOP
53
Up today, it's reader M.L. in Simpsonville, SC. The floor is yours, M.L.:
Thinking of your comments on civilians who provided support to the services and who went unrecognized, I'd like to tell you about my late grandfather, Albenie a.k.a. "Bennie." He served in Canada's Merchant Marine in the Atlantic in World War II. He spent the entire war in an active theater full of U-boats, in the branch that had the highest casualty rate in the Canadian Forces of that war. The merchant marines were considered a fourth branch due to their essential service... but not by the Canadian government. Merchant mariners were not given recognition or access to service pensions. This, understandably, caused much bitterness.
My grandfather died when I was 14, before the courts determined that Merchant Marine vets deserved their pensions and recognition. At least my late grandmother was able to receive a pension on his behalf as his widow—it's a cold comfort, though, and no replacement for the respect he deserved in his lifetime.
I also remember my great-uncle Howard, my grandfather's brother, who was killed in action fighting in Sicily in World War II. He spent years training in Scotland, serving with the West Nova Scotia regiment. He became an NCO there. He landed in July of 1943 with the Canadians, who were tasked with pushing their way up the middle of the island. It was slow going, as the terrain is very hilly, and Sicily in the summer is extremely hot. Just 13 days after landing, Howard's unit came under artillery fire in a tiny hamlet, during which he was killed. He left behind his two boys and my late aunt, who never remarried. He was only 29 years old when he died.
I studied War and Society in university, worked as a tour guide on the battlefields of World Wars I and II, and then became a history teacher; the bottom picture is of the Canadian National World War I Memorial at Vimy Ridge, where I used to work as a college student—that job is why I am a history teacher now. I know that these kind of family stories aren't uncommon. But they're mine, and I try to keep them alive.
On Remembrance Day, which I honor on November 11th, as Canadians do, I remember them and many others. Now that I live in the States, I pause and reflect on Memorial Day too. Remembrance is a commitment, it's an act:
They shall not grow old as we that are left grow old
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn
At the going down of the sun, and in the morning
We will remember themThanks for letting me remember them by sharing their stories with you today.
And thank YOU, M.L.
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