Poppies

I wear my poppy on my purse. I don’t think it’s disrespectful; no one has said to me, “Hey, lady, it goes on your lapel!” I change up my coats at this time of year, and while I could have bought a poppy for each one, I’ve only just thought of it so will change my practice in 2014. In the meantime, I’ve had the one with me everywhere I go. 

This far into the 21^st century, when there can’t be more than a handful of veterans left who fought in World War I and the number of those who survived the Second is dwindling daily, it’s hard to imagine how horrible war really is. I mean, was. If it was still as horrible as it was during the World Wars, maybe it wouldn’t be happening anymore. Problem is, war has become so sanitized, so easy and impersonal, that we don’t even think about it except to shake our heads and say how awful it is. 

How do we know? We’re safe and secure (relatively) in our padded little corner of the world. War has been happening pretty much through the length of my life. I’m just not affected by it because the battles are fought elsewhere. Sure, Canadian troops are deployed to those places, but I’m not from a military family and the country itself is only under siege from foreign investors. In no way do I mean to belittle the sacrifice of service to one’s nation. I believe in peace. I’m just unsure that war is the way to achieve it. 

So when Remembrance Day comes along, I am reminded of those who serve and have served. We think primarily of the World War vets because the historic value in those conflicts is immense – even though we’ve learned nothing from them except how to make it more comfortable for those indirectly involved. Conflict continues in other parts of the world and young men (and women) continue to endanger themselves for the combined cause of peace and freedom. We have veterans from the Gulf and Afghanistan wars, which got press but were buried amongst other news items so it was hard to pay real attention unless you knew or were related to someone who was actually there. Or worse, who was killed in action. I don’t know why people sign up. I wish there was no such thing as a call to arms. If we could solve our own problems without conflict and bloodshed – and interfering in others – maybe November 11 would become a celebration of peace rather than a requiem for those who died fighting for it. 

I accidentally stabbed my finger on the pin of my poppy the other day. I was about to make a big drama of it until I remembered why I have a poppy in the first place. 

Lest we forget.