Ever since the first caveman coveted his next cave neighbour’s possessions and hit him over the head with a cudgel so he could retrieve his loot, there has been conflict.
The milestones in the history of mankind are measured by wars, not by good deeds. The Battle of Hastings in 1066, the Trojan War, the Hundred Years War, and the rest of them, were all just dates in our history books until WWI (the ‘war to end all wars’), and WWII, which affected some of us personally.
And let’s not forget the numerous international conflicts in the intervening years, where so many more young people died for a cause.
It was when King George V of Britain, in 1919, proclaimed a two-minute silence to remember “the glorious dead” of WWI, that the remembrance movement began. The addition of poppy sales, sombre parades, and the laying of wreaths at cenotaphs has since provided further opportunities to remember.
But let's not forget that dead means no longer alive — dead, with the attendant grief and suffering of those left behind. Blindness, insanity and dismemberment are also a few results of war when death hasn’t been kind. Do we include those things in our remembering?
All the poppies gathered together from all over the world couldn’t bring back one dead soldier, nor would all the two minute silences or all the wreaths placed at cenotaphs. So wouldn’t it be better to have no dead soldiers, instead of glorifying the young healthy men and women moldering in foreign soil?
That should make us think of peace. But do we think of peace during the two-minute silence? Do we think of peace while wearing our poppy, which provides funds for the Canadian Legion to fulfill its mandate to look after the welfare of veterans?
Do we respect the meaning of our poppy enough not to throw it on the ground to be trampled underfoot on Nov. 12?
On Nov. 11 at 11 a.m., for those who choose to stop and remember, perhaps we should consider using that time to think about how we can protect and promote peace.
The time has come to use both our individual and collective will to speak out, and stop the kind of aggressions that lead to death. If we don’t, the caveman next door may let his finger stray to the red button.
And if that happens, our world may have much longer than a two minute silence.
Nadine Jones is a local senior and occasional contributor to the Richmond News
