Searching for Tao

My grandfather fought in the second world war. I hesitate to call him a "hero" as that word is used all to often, but he was a good man, a young man who answered his nation's call to fight in a war on the other side of the world. This post isn't really about him, but his story helps me frame what I want to talk about.

Gerard Quinn, my father's father, was initially sent to Sicily to run with the infantry for the Allied push into the so-called "soft underbelly of Europe". His tour, like so many others in the region, was far from "soft", and at some point along the way, a canon that hadn't been secured properly, fired and rolled backward and onto my grandfather, crushing his legs.

Fortunately for him (and his future grandchildren I suppose), the Allied position held and he was evacuated to the UK where he, once recovered in hospital, was returned to his company, as they prepared to invade the Netherlands. As a newly injured soldier, this did not favour his chances of returning alive, but Fortune intervened again: he was reassigned... to radio duty. As it turns out, my grandfather's penmanship was so exceptional, the Brass felt his skill would be more useful to the war effort receiving and transcribing messages from inside a helpless tank with a wooden gun barrel.

And so it is that my grandfather survived the War and helped, in his own small way, to liberate this place I now call home. I just learnt today that he was given a medal for his efforts in liberating the Netherlands -- just months before he died.

Today is Dodenherdenking, the Dutch day of remembrance for the war dead. It precedes Bevrijdingsdag, or Liberation Day and consists of an 8pm ceremony much like what you'd find in Canada on November 11th at 11:11. There's the two minutes silence, Taps (though it sounds slightly different), and laying of wreaths... even the Queen is there. I attended the services here in Amsterdam along with thousands of others and let me tell you: those 3minutes of silence: not a sound. Not cell phones, not even undisciplined children or dogs barking. The whole of Dam Square collectively remembered and observed for a full three minutes.

In those moments, as I do every November 11th, I thought of my grandfather, a young, dumb kid, doing what he thought was right at first, and ultimately doing what he could to survive. I'll think of him tomorrow too, while the country celebrates its liberation. I think he would have liked to see that.

It turns out that the Netherlands declared itself neutral in WWI, and so were able to (mostly) escape the horrors of one of the bloodiest wars in human history. For the Dutch, November 11th is St. Martin's Day, a Christian holiday converted into a sort of Halloween without the costumes. This isn't to say that the horrors of war aren't recognised in Holland though. As they were occupied during the second world war by the Germans, May 5th marks the Dutch Liberation Day which, as I understand it, is both for celebration and reflection.

For Canadians though, it's a big deal. Some provinces mark it as a holiday (why it's not a national holiday is beyond me), and everywhere, regardless of time off, cities close off streets to accommodate the thousands of people who attend. Veterans march and non-veterans clap... but we don't cheer. A poem is read, sometimes even sung by a children's chorus, wreaths are laid, and war planes fly overhead. At 11:11, a moment of silence is had, and the children in the crowd are left to stir and wonder why everyone has stopped talking all of a sudden.

It's been a ritual for me for as long as I can remember. I would go with my veteran grandfather to the old cenotaph in Abbotsford, and when I moved to Ontario, I took part in the massive ceremonies at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in Ottawa or Old City Hall in Toronto. When I returned to Vancouver, long after my grandfather had died, I was always at Victory Square for the morning. I've only once missed the ceremony before today, when I was in Korea, where the day was transformed into a corporate holiday to sell chocolate.

There may not have been a ceremony, but for my part at least, there was an observance. I took a few minutes, left my phone at the office and walked into the central square here in Bussum, waiting quietly in silence for the moment to pass. I watched people go about their lives, shopping, playing with their kids, and riding their bikes, while I tried to imagine what it must have been like to live here while the Germans had occupied the country during WWII: I couldn't do it. I really can't understand what it must have been like for the Dutch to have their home occupied by a violent, racist invader. We Canadians attacked and liberated, but we've never known what it was like to be conquered. I guess this is another part of my European learning experience: perspective.

I've been waiting for this movie for three years.

Paul Gross' new film, "Passchendaele" debuts today and is playing at the Paramount (Scotia) Theatre downtown at 7pm and 10pm. For those interested, Melanie and I will be going down to the 10pm show and you're all welcome to join us.

The National post has a wonderful article explaining the history of the movie and why it's so important that we support it, and for those looking for more detail, the official site has loads of information as well as the trailer.

A lot of interesting things have been happening lately that I've yet to document properly here. My apologies to those involved for falling behind, but as you'll see, I've been rather busy.

For starters, Melanie has finally moved to Vancouver. After months of preparation, fear and goodbyes, Mel packed her bags (and her two cats) and hopped on a plane to YVR. In the space of less than a week, she had 4 interviews for two jobs and it's very possible that she'll be offered one of said jobs today or tomorrow. The cats were comfortable in my place almost immediately, and I'm already beginning to notice the effects of Mayday's fur all over the place. (She's such a princess).

It's been a bit of a shock to Melanie so far. I don't think that it's completely sunk in that she's a Vancouverite now. I suggested that she "take the day off" today and wander through Stanley Park while the weather is still pretty. I hope she takes my advice.

Chrystal has also broken some rather big news: she's moving to Kandahar. You know, that place from where we keep shipping people home feet first? Of course she won't be serving in the military, rather she'll be working in the diplomatic office, on a military base, surrounded by big people with guns. This is a really exciting career move for her and she's been wanting something like this for a very long time. I can't say that I'm glad she's going, but I suppose I have to be happy that she's doing what she wants with her life.

Just come back alive ok?

I really want to comment on this highway renaming business. For those who haven't heard, a bunch of people have created a petition to rename a portion of highway 401 to "Highway of Heroes" to commemorate the men & women who've died overseas who's flag-draped coffins make the procession down that very stretch of asphalt when their bodies return home.

Maybe I'm being irrational, but this kind of thing makes me absolutely furious. For starters, the term "hero" is thrown around far too much and (at least in my opinion) should not be assigned to just anyone who dies in the line of duty.

These soldiers are Our Honoured Dead, people who died because they chose to fight for Canada and Canada sent them into a warzone. That's both respectable and honourable, even remarkable... but is this heroism? No. This sort of renaming campaign just supports a propaganda machine that works to convince people that war is glorious, even righteous -- a lie so far from the truth it makes me ill.

And if that doesn't piss you off, how 'bout the thought that of all the things in this country we could attribute to our soldiers, we choose a stretch of grey pavement. What a terrible way to honour these people.

Careful, they're not the same thing.

I sifted about YouTube today and found two interesting clips I thought I'd share. The first clip is called Young Americans, a multi-part series shot and produced by troops on the ground in Iraq. The small part I've seen so far looks like a pretty raw look at what it's like over there.

The second part is considerably more light hearted, but unfortunately related. A news crew from New Zeland (I think, it might be Australia) hit the streets of an American city with some simple questions about the world. Stuff like: "Who's Fidel Castro?", "Which country should America invade next?" and "How many sides are there on a triangle?"

You should be surprised at the results, but sadly, you probably won't be.