The significance of Remembrance Day

Special to the Southpoint Sun

By Dick Grolman

Remembrance Day is but a single day to draw attention to the sacrifices so many people have made to rid the Western World, and particularly Western Europe, of an enormous evil perpetuated by a psychopathic individual.

However, the annual event of laying artificial wreaths around the cenotaph and playing “The Last Post” seems to be sorely lacking in the true meaning and understanding of who and what really ought to be remembered.

You see, I was there during the five-year struggle in Holland.

I was there to experience some of the atrocities.

I was there to see the pain and suffering because of fear and hunger.

I was there to experience events that defy description. I was there to feel real hatred. And I was also there to witness the ultimate destruction of incredible evil, and I do feel and share in the euphoria of the knowledge that good does indeed triumph over evil.

Seen through the eyes of a 15-year-old, the events taking place in a small village in Holland in March/April of 1945 were enormously exciting. Aerial battles, patrolling fighter planes shooting at anything that still dared move in daytime, damaged heavy bombers crashing before they could make it back to safe territory, individual enemy soldiers totally defeated and leaderless, desperately straggling to get home to a family that probably was not there anymore.

The almost total absence of sound was deafening, only the occasional roar of airplane engines did break that silence. The odd retreating army vehicle disturbed the silence in the darkness of night. A darkness so deep and intense, impossible to imagine, impossible to describe. No electricity anywhere, not even a lit candle visible from the blacked-out homes, even the stars seemed reluctant to contribute their little illumination.

It was in that atmosphere on April 6th, 1945 a distant engine noise could be heard, sudden and unexplainable, exciting. Not sounds in the air but on the ground. Revving up of engines and then stillness, and again revving and stillness, over and over and over, coming ever closer.

The suspense was unbearable until finally, yes, oh yes, there they were. Four armored vehicles coming into view, stopping, gun barrel swiveling, crew alertly searching for possible enemy remnants, advancing again for 50 metres, engines roaring, braking, stopping.

THE CANADIANS, THEY WERE HERE, THE MANITOBA DRAGOONS, OUR LIBERATORS!

Everyone jumped, yelled, waved, Dutch flags mysteriously appeared seemingly out of nowhere. But our enthusiasm was ignored, after all these advance troops still had a war to fight.

However, during the next few days the main army came through and no longer was the population ignored. The Canadians loved the unbelievable adoration. They threw chocolates, candies, cigarettes – all things we barely remembered even existed.

To this day I am still awestruck by the overwhelming numbers of troops, armored vehicles, weapon carriers, trucks pulling heavy guns, tanks appearing through the fields, an awesome display of power. This was our freedom returning, the end of so much fear and anxiety. Safety, security and a life of hope was looming again.

To the 15-year-old boy, those days in April 1945 left an indelible mark and an everlasting appreciation of all things Canadian.

REMEMBRANCE, not just today, but always.