Some of my absolute favorite assignments in the 13 years and change that I’ve been writing for this fine publication have been speaking with those who had the courage and the fortitude to serve this great country in times of combat.
I’m not just referring to the diminishing handful of Canada’s World War II veterans that are still with us, either. I’ve been fortunate enough to interview and profile close friends of mine that I grew up with who were inspired enough to answer the call to enlist and serve their country. Their stories of globe-trotting travel experiences and international residency in places that are thousands of miles away from the comforts of home were eye-opening and I gained a whole new level of respect for these people. Cathan, Cory, and Alex – I once again tip my hat to all of you. Thank you for what you do.
But it is with Canada’s scarcely-remaining veterans of the Second World War where one tends to gain a very unique perspective; one that can feel like a cold shock to the system in its directness and its simplistic message delivered by its participants.
As long as I live, I’ll always remember taking the drive down to the village of Elbow on a warm Friday afternoon back in May of 2013 to the home of Art & Maridell Knutson. I’d learned that Art had served as a tail gunner for the Royal Canadian Air Force’s 434 Bluenose Squadron during World War II, and I was eager to learn his story and hear his thoughts as a living veteran.
After the usual introductions and pleasantries that I have with new people who become storytellers in my professional presence, Art and I took a seat in his living room. I don’t think 30 seconds had passed before Art came out with the following:
“You know, I suppose there were four different times over there that I should’ve been killed.”
My spine went cold, my jaw fell agape, and it’s a small miracle that I didn’t drop my cup of coffee on Art and Maridell’s carpet. Throughout the rest of our talk that afternoon, I was hooked on what Art had to say and I appreciated how open he was with a person who was a stranger just an hour or so before.
When Art died four years later during the same month in which we talked, I was not only sorry to hear of his passing, but sorry for the reminder that veterans such as Art were becoming more of a rarity as time went on.
February of 2018 brought one of the most unique and attention-grabbing forms of respect shown to a veteran that I’ve ever seen; in fact, I’d say it tops the list. I was invited to another birthday celebration in the village of Lucky Lake, this one for Donald Couch, who was marking the monumental age of 100 years on this planet. More than 300 family, friends and well-wishers packed the community hall, which is saying something because I remember it being a particularly biting and frosty Saturday. But I’d say cold weather doesn’t defeat respect.
Donald had joined the Royal Canadian Air Force in November 1940 and in his five years, he traveled extensively and some of his more exciting times in the air force included helping fly in supplies for the British 14th Army fighting in Burma on Christmas Eve in 1944, as well as dropping food to the people in Burma after the Japanese had been driven back.
During Couch’s 100th birthday bash, a huge Hercules aircraft did a fly-by over the village and dropped balloons, streamers and even a birthday cake; a sweeping sign of respect to someone who’d taken to the air decades before.
To my knowledge, Donald is still with us today and by my math, he’d be 102 years old. Cheers, Mr. Couch!
I’m reflecting on my past experiences with veterans to show that their service and sacrifices continue to have the respect and gratitude of Canadians everywhere, and how we show that respect and gratitude is the topic I want to close with here.
The poppy. We may only wear it every November, but its message is carried year-round. But if you’re an employee of Whole Foods Market at its 14 locations in Canada, you weren’t allowed to wear the poppy to mark Remembrance Day. At least, not until the uproar and outcry caused their corporate suits to flip their questionable uniform policy.
Whole Foods, which is owned by Amazon, didn’t allow employees to wear the poppy because it was seen as “supporting a cause”. Sorry, but the poppy is so much more than a cause. Buying Girl Guide cookies, THAT’S supporting a cause. The poppy is a symbol of remembrance and respect for those who made the ultimate sacrifice.
As you can imagine, the anger from Canadians coast-to-coast was palpable. After all, the news broke just days away from Remembrance Day. It was seen as horrifically disrespectful and a badly-timed kick below the belt to Canada’s Legion branches, which still struggle to maintain relevancy and increase their numbers. Luckily, the company changed its tune literally just hours after the original headlines had been published, but time will tell whether the damage has already been done to their reputation.
Frankly, I didn’t exactly need another reason to not support Amazon, but here we are.
Don’t mess with Canadians and our right to honor our departed veterans. They may be gone, but you have us to contend with. It’s a fight you won’t win.
For this week, that’s been the Ruttle Report.
