When I think about what passes for “bravery” these days, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Not many people in the Western world now who would accept the task of what the D-Day boys took on, by the thousands.
FYI – repeating some protest slogan, while blockading people from going about their lives, all under the comfort of knowing you’ll not really face any substantive consequences for it, is not bravery. It is following the easy path.
I remember visiting a large Canadian cemetery. I walked by every headstone. At the time I was 38 years old. I still remember thinking that I was older than every person buried in that cemetery. In fact I was twice the age of most of them.
During the pandemic, I visited the Canadian Virtual War Memorial. Every day I would read the brief bio of every Canadian service person and merchant seafarer that was killed on that day. Very sobering.
My uncle was wounded just outside Apeldoorn. He kept his pay books and a prayer book given to him by my mother in the left breast pocket of his battle dress. I now have these books. You can see the sniper’s bullet hole in the two pay books. The prayer book, kept closest to his heart, was undamaged.
He never talked about the war to non veterans. Except once while watching TV at my mum’s house he blurted out at the news reporter on TV, “When you fight in a war, fight to win it. That way fewer people will die.”
When I think about what passes for “bravery” these days, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Not many people in the Western world now who would accept the task of what the D-Day boys took on, by the thousands.
FYI – repeating some protest slogan, while blockading people from going about their lives, all under the comfort of knowing you’ll not really face any substantive consequences for it, is not bravery. It is following the easy path.
Steve,
And so many of these cowards are masked.
I visited Normandy in 1995.
I remember visiting a large Canadian cemetery. I walked by every headstone. At the time I was 38 years old. I still remember thinking that I was older than every person buried in that cemetery. In fact I was twice the age of most of them.
During the pandemic, I visited the Canadian Virtual War Memorial. Every day I would read the brief bio of every Canadian service person and merchant seafarer that was killed on that day. Very sobering.
My uncle was wounded just outside Apeldoorn. He kept his pay books and a prayer book given to him by my mother in the left breast pocket of his battle dress. I now have these books. You can see the sniper’s bullet hole in the two pay books. The prayer book, kept closest to his heart, was undamaged.
He never talked about the war to non veterans. Except once while watching TV at my mum’s house he blurted out at the news reporter on TV, “When you fight in a war, fight to win it. That way fewer people will die.”