A Deserted Stretch of Sand

win badgeI saw the honour guard assume their posts, I hard the skirl of the pipes, I watched the parade of veterans and soldiers approach along the Esplanade. I stood in the -20C cold with my daughter at the cenotaph in Medicine Hat;  I closed my eyes and in the silence I was transported back …

Wednesday, April 30, 2008

As I write this we are in France, driving the highways and countryside of Normandy towards Courseulles sur Mer on the northern coast, to the beach where Canadian soldiers landed on D-Day, June 6, 1944.  As we pass through small French towns with their old stone houses and store fronts, their doors opening directly onto the cobbled streets, I can’t help but imagine enemy tanks barreling along these narrow streets, the noise echoing through the corridors of the village, the marching step of the soldiers, weapons held ready to fire.

I am thinking about my father and all the men like him and their willingness to serve.  Uncle Kenneth had just turned 24 the very day he died trying to pilot his plane back to safety.

I am thinking about the heavy bombing raids of the Blitz and the reminiscences of my Continue reading “A Deserted Stretch of Sand”