A World War ~ The Shaping of Families for Generations

A Meeting Place (by June Green ~ My Grandmother)

Right at the corner of Portage and Main,
When the Second World War was on,
Was a place called the Knights of Columbus Hut,
The canteen, where I met John

They had a piano, a space to dance,
There were popular records to spin,
And I happened to be a hostess there
On a night when John came in.

One special day, near the middle of May,
When I walked through the open door
There were new recruits wearing sailor suits
That I hadn't seen before.

The sailor called John was tall and blond,
With hair like the golden wheat,
And the look in his eye said, "I'm the guy
You've been waiting for years to meet."

That was how it began, with this sailor man,
We knew it was meant to be,
For I was the girl he was looking for
And John was the boy for me.


Today is Remembrance Day.
    When I was in grade 12 I had a teacher that helped our class really grasp the magnitude of what had been done, the sacrifice that had been made, for my personal freedom and for our country. After grade 12 it hit me one day just how much I was a product of the war and how directly my family and generations to come have been affected.
My dad's father was in Europe throughout the second world war fighting for a number of years. He was from Canada. He wrote my granny letters as she waited in a small town in British Columbia for him, and they married when he returned home. They had eight living children and my grandpa passed away in his fifties from the results of a heart attack. He had struggled with depression and other issues the years after the war. His children were greatly affected by who he was as a result of the war. It was not easy. I never got to meet him. Whenever I went to my grannie's I would look at his picture with the poppy pinned to it and try to imagine all that he had had to go through. I have heard a few stories of his close calls with death while fighting. The horror he must have seen and the pain he must have had to deal with the rest of his life must have been immense. The lingerings of that Post Traumatic Stress have been felt by myself, through who my father is, as a result of that war. It has grieved me ~ I wonder who my grandfather would have been if he had not had to go through all he did. I wonder also of the stories of valor and honor that he never shared and the bravery he had that no one got to see but his fellow soldiers. I am honored to be his granddaughter.
   My mother's parents only met because the war was on. I included a poem up above that my grandma wrote after she lost most of her sight and could not quilt and do all the creative things she used her eyes for. So she started writing poetry. My grandpa published a book of the poems and they are amazing. They leave a legacy for my children and for myself. My grandfather grew up in Vancouver and my grandmother grew up on the Prairies. However during the Depression my grandmother's parents had to leave their farm and move to Winnipeg. With the war on my grandpa's older brother joined up as soon as he was old enough and fought in the war. My grandfather joined up as soon as he was old enough also but the war was almost over. However he was in Winnipeg for training (far far away from his home town of Vancouver) and one fateful day my grandma walked into a canteen to hostess there, and they caught each others eye. They married in 1948 much to the chagrin of my grandpa's parents who predicted the marriage would never last. It did and they went on to have five children and one of those children was my mother.
  My parents married and had five children. I am the oldest. The people my parents are ~ well, it has a lot to do with who their parents were and what their parents went through and how they were raised....that's how it works generation after generation. My great great grandparents had had to go through World War One. It has shaped us all ~ and we can't forget that. 
   
   I can't express my thanks properly but I wish I could.

 So often I look around at where I live ~ Canada. It is a land that has a rich but complex heritage. The beauty here is stunning and the opportunity endless. It has been a blessing to be able to grow up here, to enjoy all I have and to live and thrive in the freedoms offered. All of this because so many payed such a dear price....I know I will never forget and I will never let my children and grandchildren forget. The gift given can never be repaid in full or even properly appreciated ~ but I can be thankful and full of honor and I can do my all to pass that on to my children.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

John McCrae