Lest we forget

I am very impressed by the deep, sincere appreciation that seems to come from the entire province of Newfoundland towards the military, both fallen, veteran, and present. Yesterday Brian and I walked down to the national war memorial on Duckworth St to watch the proceedings. And there were literally hundreds of people there. Remembrance Day is a holiday here- everyone is off school and work. There were people from all walks of life out to remember those who have sacrificed. The little redhead, exact miniature copy of his uniformed dad, clinging to his crisp blue pantlegs. The photographers with their cameras, trying to capture the emotion of the morning in their art. Eager university students. A local widow and her two young children, laying a wreath for the husband and father they lost to combat three years ago. And the elderly couple- wrinkled faces, hands clasped, likely with images flashing in their minds of memories past, friends and family lost too soon many years ago. Blessed to still have each other, been through so much.

The deep, resonant trumpet notes of the Last Post
That mark our place, and in the sky, the larks still bravely singing fly.
The true north strong and free.

Classic hymns, they even prayed. At a public ceremony, no less. That is the bright and special side of this province being a little behind the rest of Canada, in some ways-- they still hold on fiercely to traditions and for most, faith is part of that tradition. Bagpipes. Soldiers marched, one after the other- a living reminder of those all those lost to the crosses, row on row. Wreath after wreath laid in respect for the fallen.

Cannons were fired off of Signal Hill, the giant rocky promontory that stands at the entrance of the St John's Harbour. You could see a flame, a puff of smoke, and a resounding boom. Taking us back in time to the battlefields of old. You could almost see the ships coming through the narrows...