Alan Hayward, Mohawk’s Manager of Security, spoke at the college’s annual Remembrance Day service. Joining Alan was Mohawk graduate and retired Master Corporal Amy Barlow.
Alan Hayward, Mohawk’s Manager of Security, delivered the following address at the college’s annual Remembrance Day service for the more than 1,000 students, faculty and staff in the McIntyre Performing Arts Centre.
I have a request and a poem for you.
My request is really very simple. Today, in this ceremony, we remember the ultimate sacrifices.
When you leave here today, I would ask you to spare some thoughts for those who came back from two world wars, from Korea, Bosnia, Afghanistan and countless other peacekeeping missions that Canada has sent her young men and women of the military.
Like the ones who returned from other wars, some will share their memories of those times with us. And some will not, preferring to keep those members within themselves. Whatever they chose, their young lives have been altered in ways that many of us cannot even begin to comprehend.
And, as time marches on for all of us, these young people will become tomorrow’s veterans. It will be them who turn up to Cenotaphs across the world every Nov. 11, perhaps to lay a wreath, to remember fallen comrades or simply just to pay their respects. They will then return to their homes and perhaps be forgotten by us all except their families until the next Remembrance Day.
On Monday of this week, I saw a number of pictures of the ceremonies at the Cenotaph here in Hamilton the previous day, and in particular, a photo of Jack McFarland – a 95-year-old survivor of the Dieppe Raid. He was resplendent in his wheelchair, wearing his beret. With his medals gleaming, he had come to pay his respects and to remember his fallen comrades.
That photo reminded me of the poignant words from General Douglas MacArthur’s last address to the West Point cadets – “old soldiers never die, they just fade away.”
We should not allow them to fade away without our grateful thanks for the lives we now have.
The Poppy (author unknown)
Whey are they selling poppies Mummy?
Selling poppies in town today?
The poppies my child are flowers of love,
For the men who marched away.
But why have they chosen a poppy Mummy?
Why not a beautiful rose?
Because my child, men fought and died,
In the fields where the poppies grow.
But why are the poppies red Mummy?
Why are the poppies so red?
Red is the colour of blood my child,
The blood our soldiers shed.
The heart of the poppy is black Mummy?
Why does it have to be so black?
Black my child is the symbol of grief,
For the men who never came back.
But Mummy, why are you crying so?
Your tears are giving me pain?
My tears are fears for you my child,
For the world is forgetting again.
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