One thing my mom always said was, “You never want to live through a war, and always honour those who fought for your freedom.”
My mom and dad lived through the Second World War in the Netherlands when the Germans invaded Holland.
Mom was 15 years old, and Dad was 18; at this time they had not met.
My dad did not speak often about the war as he ended up in a German concentration camp. The few stories he did tell us –and Dad always said those were the mild ones – would make your hair curl.
Mom talked about it more. She explained how they knew the sounds of the German vehicles and planes. How they would be terrified if one of those vehicles would slow down near their home.
She also told us of the German spy that lived next door, which they learned later, and they often wondered why the German vehicles were always so close.
The Germans rules were extremely strict, with all lights off by 6 p.m. and you best be home by that time as well. They would close the curtains tight and go to a back room with one candle so they could read or do some mending or sewing.
My mom became an excellent seamstress during those times as nothing went to waste. If an old trench coat was found, it was pulled apart and made into something they needed.
I cannot imagine what kind of fear that would be, and they lived like this for almost five years.
I cannot imagine being a teenager and being not allowed to go out and play games or visit with friends. My mom lost her teenage years.
They never would waste food, as they never knew when a soldier would come into their home and take it all. They also knew how to hide food well in their home.
Near the end of the war, the Germans knew time was running out, so they bombed the dikes, and at that time my mom lost everything, as they lived close to where the bombing happened.
One day the planes sounded differently, and this is when the Canadians came to the Netherlands to free them.
Canadian soldiers were treated with the utmost respect. They were fed and housed, even when there was extraordinarily little to go around.
When the war was finally over and Holland was liberated, the respect continued.
Each and every year we purchased poppies and went to the Remembrance Day service, clothed in our Sundays best.
I do not understand war. The purpose of destroying a country and destroying and killing the people in it, for control, for more power.
We do not know how lucky we have it here in Canada. I hear people complaining about the situation here with our government, but it is not a war. We can still basically do what we want.
We can go to the grocery store and buy whatever we need, whenever we want. In my mom’s teenage years, they could not. They could not go to the store and just buy groceries. They were only allowed so much and at times, there was little to nothing on the shelves, so the bag of potatoes they had, would serve as their meal once again.
So go to the Remembrance Day services and stand up for the veterans and soldiers that keep you free. Buy a poppy or three and be proud to be a Canadian.
