D-Day

I have a great family history of participation in the Canadian Armed Forces. A great uncle gave his life in Europe in WW2, my Grand-Father was a Toronto Scotish sergeant, wounded in Deippe. My dad joined the navy at the tail end of WW2 and was incredible upset the war ended as they were about to ship out for some exotic location in the pacific. My with parents met as they were both in the Air Force and my father made the military his career retiring as a Colonel and after passing was entered in Canada’s National Cemetery in Ottawa.

When I was dropped off at the farm my grandfather had I would follow him around all day yammering about this of that as little boys do. Always another question. I remember chatting while fixing the well at the side of the house and talking about the war. It was not a conversation my grandfather relished but he answered my questions. There was no glamour stories. Mostly he told me about places they were pinned down, mortars crashing about, bullets wizzing by and the thing that struck terror into their hearts, the whistle of the 88.

The German 88 was unlike any other gun in the war. We did not have a compatible weapon. It made a very unique sound as it made its way to its target, and when you heard it, you knew someone was about to die. The reverence my grandfather gave to this weapon was remarkable. I grew up not the most disciplined kid you could have, at no time did my grandfather ever suggest to my mother we should send thee boy to military school or tell me I should look at joining the armed forces as a career option.

As a child of the sixties the idea of signing up was not one that would have come without a prompt. Most 6pm news shows, even in Canada, talked of the war in Vietnam and the death toll. Also the protests in the US. For a young Canadian boy it did not seem that the military was a good option.

None-the-less I was instilled with a healthy respect for those that did make this choice. Seeing what we saw on tv and integrating the stories my grandfather would tell of his experiences made me understand what it truly took to sign up. The underlying bravery. While I am confident that had I been directed that way I would have been able to must the necessary bravery, or maybe bravado, I marvel at those that did. And am grateful.

Today, June 6th is a day of sombre celebration. The beginning of the end so to speak of the war in Europe. Many thousands died today on those cold beaches of Normandy. Shot up by bullets or shredded by shrapnel. And many of the boys heard for the first time the wizz of the 88s. While climbing the cliffs from the beach, some of the Americans were caught in a crossfire of 88s raining down from above on two sides. But they made it to the top and took those gunners out. My God, how tough those boys were.

What could motivate so many young men to jump into the waters and storm the beach that day. Maybe a sense of understanding of what the Germans were wanting to take away from us. The Axis powers wanted total control over the lives of its subjects. People who would not adapt to their rule disappeared. The Gestapo and the SS were very effective at quelling dissent. They held no trials they just shot you if they thought you were against the regime. At least Lenin had show trials, rigged as they were. With Hitler there was no such show. Conform or die.

In the end they were not strong enough. Hitler rushed his plan for world dominance. Had he waited another few years sending fifth column troops into Western Democracies to change hearts and minds prior to the start of war maybe there would be a different outcome. Perhaps if he had just taken the West, solidified his hand and then gone after Stalin we would have a different outcome.

But that is not the story. Thousands of brave soldiers laid down their lives 80 years ago so this tyranny could be destroyed and we could live with the liberty they paid for with their lives. To paraphrase Thomas Jefferson, the roots of the tree of liberty must be watered with the blood of patriots and tyrants from time to time.

Are we once again moving toward that time where the tree of liberty must be watered? I do not know, I certainly hope not. There are so many fifth columners amongst us today I do not know if we will prevail if it come to it. Let us instead honour those whose blood was spilled and fight not to have to make the ultimate sacrifice of war, again.