Remembrance Day and a grandpa's story

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may we never forget ...Growing up, I always wore a poppy and was eager to participate in my school's Remembrance Day assembly, either singing or as part of the group who read In Flanders Fields. I never really understood what the big deal was - war was something that happened to other people.

We regret to inform you...

We regret to inform you sample telegramWhen I was 9 or 10, my great Grandfather sat me down to share my family's story with the world wars. He pulled a book off the shelf, opened it up and showed me a telegram. It was addressed to his mother and started with the words "Regret to inform..." Grampy teared up as he told me about his youngest brother who was killed in action in WWII, while Grampy raised his family in Canada, too old to volunteer. One of my greatest regrets is not asking to keep the telegram. When Grampy died in 1996, I searched and searched but couldn't find the telegram.

The next bit of family history came as a result of an inheritance. My grandfather passed away and left a box of military medals behind. A newspaper clipping in the box said that they belonged to Percival Fairbourne Annis - my other paternal great grandfather (he had died long before my dad was born). Percy, as he was known in letters, won the Albert Medal (second class) for lifesaving.  The Albert Medal was nicknamed the "civilian's Victoria Cross" but was also given to servicemen who were not directly involved in combat situations.

Albert MedalPercy was a grenade instructor, and twice (once in 1915 and once in 1916) was involved in incidents with lighted grenades, throwing them away from his group of recruits and sparing them from injury or death. In the second incident he was rendered both blind and deaf for a few days because of his proximity to the grenade. He was invalided home shortly after returning to the front when he contracted pleurisy. He died in the 1930s, leaving his wife, my Nana, with 2 young boys to raise alone. She never talked about his service, which meant a lot digging when his medals turned up.  

I have family history connecting me with both World Wars but it still wasn't ‘real' to me until a school trip in 1998.

Traveling to my history

Vimy Ridge MemorialI was fortunate to go to Markham District High School and participate in the music program. We did trips almost every year - from the annual grade 9 music trip to Washington DC to one off trips like New Orleans / Nashville in my grade 10 year and Britain and France when I was in Grade 12. I was lucky that my parents could help me pay for the portion of the trip that I hadn't covered via fundraising, because if I hadn't gone on that trip, I wouldn't have the same reverence and respect for Remembrance Day that I have today.

We walked along Hadrian's Wall, climbed to the top of York Minster Cathedral, saw a show in London's West End, and got to tour the British Museum. I thought I had died and gone to heaven. At the time of the trip I was into ancient history - Egyptian, Greek, and Roman. The British Museum has an amazing collection of ancient artifacts. Little did I know that two days later, my passion for ancient history was going to be replaced by a love of Military History.  

We took a ferry from Dover, England, to Calais, France and continued on our bus journey to Paris. The teachers planned a midday stop at Vimy. I remembered learning about the Battle of Vimy Ridge in grade 10 history but I wasn't "into" war so I only remembered the highlights - the valiant Canadians holding their ground against all odds and suffering great casualties.

It hit me when I toured the battlefield  

restored trenches at Vimy RidgeMost of those Canadian casualties weren't much older than I was at the time. We stood on each other's shoulders in the craters in between the Canadian and German lines where almost half of the grenades fell. The land surrounding Vimy is typical of Northern France - flat (though the actual battle site is on a ridge). Vimy is a series of undulating hills and valleys caused by the battle that raged there in April 1917. I remember standing in the parking lot, looking at the sign by the forest that said "Danger: Unexploded Mines" and thinking "Wow. People did this".

I walked through the trenches and saw pieces of bone embedded in the dirt, 81 years later. It was then that the numbers hit me. A staggering 3,598 Canadians were killed at the battle of Vimy Ridge and another 7,000 wounded. As I walked up to the Memorial, I began to cry for these young men who had given their lives so that I, a high school student nearly a century later, could travel freely.

Back on the bus, I began to wonder what on earth would possess someone my age to sign up for the army during the Great War and questioned the rest of the students as to whether they would sign up if a war broke out the next day. I never stopped asking why and have gone on to write a Master's Thesis on recruitment during the First World War.

Vimy Ridge crossesToday, I speak about small town recruiting and remembrance and ensure that the next generation understand exactly why they wear a Poppy on November 11^th. Had I not walked the hallowed ground of Vimy when I did, I wouldn't be the person I am today.

On Sunday, I will be in the same place I am every November 11^th - at my local cenotaph and then at the Legion, once again saying thank you to the men and women who served so that I could grow up read about war in history books instead of living it.

 About Jenn Annis

Jenn Annis

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