In Remembrance Of The Fallen Of Warfare

"At the going down of the sun and in the morning

We will remember them." ~ Laurence Binyon

"If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders fields." ~ John McCrae

It is Remembrance Day here in Canada, while elsewhere the date is known as Armistice Day or Veterans Day. At the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month of 1918, the guns of war fell silent across the battlefields of Europe, ending the Great War. There will be services in cities, towns, and villages, the laying of wreaths, and the rituals common to the occasion. I will be attending the national service today. And for today, I feature photographs from the last year in my photoblog. The above is taken at Green Island in Ottawa. The park is home to several military monuments, including the National Artillery Memorial. Right beside it is a statue of the Canadian soldier, doctor, and poet John McCrae, who gave the world the poem In Flanders Fields.

Another military monument in the city is the National Aboriginal Veterans Monument, which features four Indigenous warriors back to back, with the wolf, bear, elk, and bison around them, and an eagle overhead. It honours Indigenous soldiers and veterans who have fought for the country, even at times when the country wasn't treating them right. It stands in Confederation Park, where several military monuments reside.

Just up the street, occupying the very heart of Confederation Square, is the National War Memorial, seen here during the Tulip Festival. It was first dedicated to the dead of the First World War in 1939, and has since been rededicated, including the Second World War, Korean War, South African War, Afghan War, and those who have served and died in military service to the country. It is here today that the national service of remembrance is to be held.

The Canadian War Museum is at Lebreton Flats, just west of the downtown core, telling the story of Canadian military history, at home and abroad. It looks like a bunker, or a massive bomber plane, which is entirely appropriate for its subject material.

Lebreton Gallery inside holds a wealth of military equipment from multiple countries and eras, here photographed from above.

As one emerges from the permanent collection, the last artifact is this. Canadian forces ended the First World War at the Belgian town of Mons, where they presented two field guns to the people of the town, saying that these were the last guns fired on the enemy before the Armistice. For the centennial of the ending of the war, Mons presented this one back to the people of Canada, and now it has a place of pride here.

The War Memorial features the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at its base. An unknown Canadian soldier who fell at the Battle of Vimy Ridge is now buried there. His original gravestone occupies the Memorial Chamber inside the Museum. The building is designed and angled so that at 11 in the morning on November 11th, provided the sun is shining, sunlight will shine through an overhead window and illuminate the stone.

In Honour Of Their Memory

Today is Remembrance Day in Canada, and Armistice Day and Veterans Day elsewhere. On this date in 1918, the guns of the Great War fell silent across Europe. It is a day of commemoration for the fallen of war.

These photographs are from last year in my photoblog, taken at the National War Memorial here in Ottawa, where today a national service will take place.

The ceremony itself begins with the march in of the veterans, led by the pipes and drums.

After the ceremony is done, the pipes and drums lead the march past.

Veterans are right behind.

It also includes active members from each branch of the Canadian Forces.

I close this post with two statues by the same artist, Ruth Abernethy, both larger than life, and both a twin of the other. The first is here in Ottawa, on Green Island where the Rideau River meets the Ottawa River. Lieutenant-Colonel John McCrae was the Canadian soldier, doctor, and poet who wrote the poem In Flanders Fields during the First World War, and would not live to see that war's end.

The other version of the statue is here in his home town- Guelph, in southern Ontario, where it stands outside the city's Civic Museum. In his hand he grips a notebook, with the first words to his most famous poem inscribed on the bronze page. A man whose words have left a lasting impact upon the world.

Paying Final Respects To The Fallen

Later this week sees Remembrance Day. November 11th is also known as Veterans Day or Armistice Day elsewhere, but here in Canada, it is Remembrance Day, a day to pay our respects to those who served in war, and those who died in it.  

These first shots are from several years ago, on a spring day when I visited Beechwood Cemetery, a historic cemetery in Ottawa with the graves of many prominent people, locally and nationally. Two sections of this large property have been set aside as a national military cemetery, and this is one of them, with the tombstones done in the same manner as originally laid out by the Commonwealth War Graves Commission, a legacy of the First World War that carries on its work today.

I attend the national service held at the Canadian War Memorial, which occupies the very heart of Confederation Square. I usually choose a spot ideal for watching the parade past after the ceremony has ended. It begins with bagpipes.

Followed by the veterans- a smaller group by the year.

Active services follow them. A very solemn and moving ceremony, and one that draws out the public each year.

A Wound In The Heart

Today I make use of this blog for photography, and a more somber tone than is usually the case here. Flags at half mast: a sign of mourning and commemoration. This was taken yesterday outside one of the federal office buildings downtown in Ottawa.

 Several days ago it came out in the media. 215 bodies found: children. Buried at the site of a former residential school at Kamloops, B.C.. The residential school system is a dark stain on Canadian history: the taking of generations of indigenous children by the government and put into schools run by the churches. It is a legacy we are still dealing with today, as the last of those schools closed in living memory. Indigenous people and communities still deal with the fallout of trauma, abuse, and neglect. All in a program meant to "get the Indian out of them."

215 innocent children. Taken from families, from what they knew and loved, never to return. It is heartbreaking and infuriating and... the worst part is  that you just know there are more bodies out there. Buried in ummarked graves far from their homes and families. Victims  of a system that strove to stamp out who they are.

Other bloggers have already addressed this. I wasn't sure if I could. I know I don't have the eloquence for it. To call it a tragedy isn't sufficient. Nor are apologies sufficient. Speaking for myself, I  feel ashamed of my country.

So what's to be done? First, those children need to be returned to their homelands to rest among their people. Then every other residential school must be examined. Because there are more graves out there. And those children must be sent home. After that? There were people who knew. And didn't care. People still alive. They must be held to account. This is a terrible wrong that must be made right.

Flags have been at half last for days: one hour for each of these 215. And on Parliament Hill, around and beyond the Centennial Flame, is a growing commemoration. Messages, photos, indigenous items... and toys.... and children's  shoes. I leave the images to say the rest.