Any excuse to wear a bright red poppy.
I happened to be around the cenotaph this morning near 11am. The streets were all blocked off with thousands of remembering Canadians. Maybe a few more than other years. Aircraft flew overhead in formation. Choirs sang. There was a bugle. Silence. Politicians made speeches. Babies cried. The war went on.
Somewhere a new war was just starting. Must remember to save the poppy for next year.
My father had three brothers who joined up for the second world war. Two were killed in the madness and the other lived to tell us what a great time he had in Europe.
MrD missed the ceremony but did get around to wearing a poppy.
My favourite uncle's brother died in the war. He felt the loss enormously, and has never forgotten. War is so sad.
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