“Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” - John 15:13
Most families have stories to tell about the Second World War or others that have followed since, whether it be about battles fought and won, the pride of country or way of life that led men and women to sign up and join the fight against the ‘foe’. Less talked about are ones of soldiers who returned but remained devastated by trauma and closed off emotional responsiveness. Yet the story that causes me to observe a Moment of Silence every November 11th is of a less universal nature … or perhaps we simply come to understand universal truths by way of our own experience.
Uncle Dave, 36 years old when he signed up in 1942 and already a married man of ten years, was trained initially as a cook and mechanic. He ended up in the Calgary Highlanders on the front lines of northern France after the D-Day invasion. In the meantime, the love of his life, Flo, who had been unable to have children, went from the West to visit Dave’s family in Hamilton, Ontario. While there, she decided to seek medical assistance for her fertility issues so they might have a family upon Dave’s return. Tragically, she developed sepsis following the required surgery and did not survive.
Dave was killed on the battlefield three months later. The family learned that a few of his fellow soldiers had gone off to a tavern in town and returned to the trenches inebriated and very loud and disorderly. Afraid that the noise would attract the attention of the ‘enemy’ and have them all killed, Dave jumped out, grabbed them and pushed them into the trenches. They survived; tragically, he did not. Dave is interred in the Calais Canadian War Cemetery near St. Inglevert, France. My Grandmother requested that the John 15:13 verse appear on the gravestone.
Did heartbroken Uncle Dave no longer care about surviving once he knew his wife had gone? Had life lost its meaning? Or was his selfless act to save another an expression of his inner understanding that we are here to care for each other, to reach out whatever the personal cost and offer ourselves in service to the ‘neighbour’. That no matter the circumstance, we are here to bring about peace and love? We will never know what Dave thought, but his life and death assault me each Remembrance Day and demand that I engage in deep introspection about my life and capacity to serve in selfless and loving action.
-Susan Hendricks, Associate | Peterborough Neighbourhood