I got home late last night from an Easter thing with my folks, and got my first opportunity to take a look at the Vimy Vigil that was being broadcast on the National War Memorial. I sat with my laptop for a couple of minutes, then realized how profoundly stupid it was for me to watch the vigil through the wonders of a webcam when I live downtown and can bike there in 5 minutes.
So, at 1:00 AM, I went to the National War Memorial to see what was going on. I’ve never been to the War Memorial late on a Sunday night, but I assume it unusual to have a dozen or so people floating about on Confederation Square. Some, like me, were there with cameras for a reasonably rare site; several others were just there watching the names be displayed, huddled under blankets in the rows of chairs provided, or chatting with some of the other observers closer to the steps.
It was a pretty nice tribute, I think, and I think that it is really neat to see the sense of obligation that some people felt to stay up and see the list of the fallen. I thought to myself, though that a list of names removes any of the individuality of those being presented. The tribute becomes more about the collective sacrifice- so many people it takes all night to list them all!- than it does the individual sacrifice that we talk about so often. I looked at the names, and actually felt kind of bad that I was there to see what was going on more for the tribute, but I think that I am hardly alone in feeling disconnected from those that died in combat almost a century ago.
Then, I got a call this morning from my girlfriend, who is in Halifax visiting family. I did High School in Dartmouth, and moved to the city that fun forgot for university. I’ve kept in touch with my close friends pretty well, but as I’m sure everyone older than 20 knows very well, the people that you tangentially knew and liked fall from the radar pretty quick. So, it was more than a bit of a surprise when this face was the one in the article. He was a boyfriend of a friend, took the same bus as me, and was a really nice guy. Obviously, he fell into that latter category of high school acquaintance that you mostly lose touch with, which equally obviously does not diminish the loss to his family and friends. But boy, does it help you remember that there is a human cost to war, one that is not well demonstrated in a night-long powerpoint presentation on a downtown memorial.
Fellow Travellers 
April 9th, 2007 
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