Remembrance Day, 2006

I heard a young man talking about Remembrance Day earlier this afternoon. He stated he did not attend the ceremonies on the weekend because he could not condone violence and he would not glorify war. As far as he was concerned, he told his audience, attending Remembrance Day ceremonies was just a way to encourage the government to send a new flock of lambs to the slaughter.

I understand his position, even if I cannot agree with it. Even when it is necessary -- and sometimes it is necessary -- war is an evil, destructive, inhuman undertaking. But the young man was missing the point. Remembrance Day is not about war, at least not entirely. Remembrance Day is about being a member of society.

Every man or woman who agrees, voluntarily or not, to serve the state in its armed forces undertakes a social compact with their society. The warrior agrees to obey orders, undertake hardships, and, if necessary, to pay the supreme price of death or maiming. In return, the state is to care for the wounded and the families of the dead. The rest of us, the vast masses who make up the rest of society, are expected to make sure the warriors are not forgotten.

That is the purpose of Remembrance Day. The grotesque anonymity of the killing fields of Flanders, Verdun, and the Somme seared a broad and deep scar on the psyche of our societies. The survivors instinctively understood that plaques and resting places for "unknown soldiers" were not enough to meet the requirements of the social compact. Mere statuary was not enough -- living memories were required.

By pausing for one brief hour every November, we keep the social compact. The dead held up their part of the bargain, whether their graves are known or whether they are buried in tons of Flemish mud or hidden in the carcass of a plane awaiting discovery in the jungle. Remembrance Day is how we, members of society, keep our end of the bargain.

The poppies we wear, the silence we observe, the tears that form in the corners of our eyes when the piper plays The Flowers of the Forest or when the aging veteran reads from the roll of honour in a halting voice -- these are the true memorials to those who kept their end of the bargain. They are the means by which we keep faith with those who died.