there was not a WWI vet at the Remembrance Day ceremony in Ottawa.
And yes, in Quebec at least, in English schools they do still study "The War to end all Wars". My grade 11 son just did a project for History comparing the strategy used at The Battle of the Somme and Vimy Ridge, both of which had a strong Canadian component.
He ended it with a poem by Wilfred Owen, who was at the Battle of the Somme, and later dies in 1918.
Anthem for Doomed Youth
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle? Only the monstrous anger of the guns. Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle Can patter out their hasty orisons. No mockeries for them; no prayers nor bells, Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,-- The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells; And bugles calling for them from sad shires.
What candles may be held to speed them all? Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes. The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall; Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds, And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.
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branchandroot
Well, this is the first time in Canadian history
Date: 2005-11-12 04:33 pm (UTC)And yes, in Quebec at least, in English schools they do still study "The War to end all Wars". My grade 11 son just did a project for History comparing the strategy used at The Battle of the Somme and Vimy Ridge, both of which had a strong Canadian component.
He ended it with a poem by Wilfred Owen, who was at the Battle of the Somme, and later dies in 1918.
Anthem for Doomed Youth
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries for them; no prayers nor bells,
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,--
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.
What candles may be held to speed them all?
Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.
The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.