Lest We Forget

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As a young girl, I was always proud to know that my maternal Uncle Carl served in the Canadian Military in Europe during World War II. Growing up in the early 1960's, with the war still recent history, I heard the stories and saw the snippets of war documentaries on TV when my dad watched occasionally. They became part of my own 'memory'. To this day I still love the music of that wartime era because somehow it made me feel more connected to my mom who actually lived during that time, and of course, also my uncle.

As I recall, I seemed to be more aware of the solemnity of Remembrance Day in Grade 5. We'd take out blank paper in art class and learn to do simple poppy sketches. I loved drawing poppies, simple lines with gentle curves and that little dip at the top of each petal. And then taking the red crayon, enhancing the outlines by pressing the crayon firmly to make it darker than the rest of the petals.

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We struggled to memorize In Flanders Field written by Lt Col John McCrae who, born long ago in Guelph, Ontario, had been a Canadian physician, soldier, teacher and poet. Although I could not have described it then, I felt the poignancy of those words and the sense of loss. I tried to imagine what it must have been like to be a soldier, and we'd wear our red poppies with the poky pin proudly on our left side.

Every November 11th (we'd have the day off from school) I'd listen eagerly to the commemoration ceremony on the radio and stand at attention at 11:00 am for the moment of silence as the radio would go dead. I'd feel a lump in my throat if I'd hear the bugle playing Taps or the mournful wail of the bagpipes. And I'd think of my Uncle Carl who used to be a soldier a long time ago.

  Photo © 2006-2009 In Flanders Fields.ca

Composed at the battlefront on May 3, 1915

during the second battle of Ypres, Belgium

My own mom was just a little girl of six or seven or eight during World War II, so her memories of the war are vague about some things. But she remembers that they had rations books, even in Canada. She recalls her dad turning on the old radio to listen to the news from BBC ... she'd have to be quiet so they could hear about the latest events from across the ocean.

And, she certainly remembers the day when she saw a man walking up the driveway on the family farm dressed in uniform. She was playing in the yard while her mom and another brother milked cows in the barn. She went flying to the barn shouting, "The war is here!" She ran behind the cow stalls and hid in a pile of hay. She didn't really know what war was, but she knew it wasn't good. Must have been a terrifying moment for her. Turned out to be her older brother, Carl, already enlisted in the Army but not yet sent to Europe. He was home for a little while.

Photos used with permission from his son, D. Javorsky

I remember seeing the above photo as a girl, feeling proud that that young man who, I see, has the same little smile as his son, was my uncle. This week as the world remembers war and sacrifices and losses, I want to remember and give tribute to Sergeant Carl Louis Javorsky for serving his country in World War II. And, who thankfully came safely home from the war and also brought a war bride , my Aunty Betty from London, England to be a part of the family.

Remembering,
Brenda
♥♥♥

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