Lest We Forget - A Century of Remembering

George Price, a farm labourer from Moose Jaw, had just turned to talk with Art Goodmurphy, a glazier from Regina.  The two were fighting with the Saskatchewan Battalion in Ville-sur-Haine, just outside Mons in southern Belgium.  Pvt. Price probably didn't even hear the crack of the German sniper's rifle.  The bullet hit him in the back and he was dead before he fell into his buddy's arms.  It was two minutes before 11 am on Monday, November 11, 1918, and he was the last Commonwealth soldier to die in the war to end all wars.

George Price grew up in Nova Scotia, but came out west for work when he was a young man. He was 25 and single, a prime candidate for conscription when the Military Service Act became law in the summer of 1917.  A few months later he was in uniform and sent to fight with the Canadian Expeditionary Force in Europe. He wasn't a professional soldier, just an ordinary bloke like more than 600,000 other ordinary Canadians who fought overseas in the first world war.  The number who died is the very definition of decimation.  One tenth of them – 60,000 people – never came home. 

In the late summer of 1918, Private Price survived a mustard gas attack in northern France. As soon as he recovered he rejoined his battalion in Ville-sur-Haine.  By early November, everyone knew that an armistice was imminent.  But someone up high wanted symbolism and so they waited to sign the treaty until the memorable 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month. Until then, the fighting continued.  George’s luck ran out just before peace was declared.  There is a monument to him in the village, and the local school was renamed in his honour.

Another 44,000 Canadians died in World War Two, 514 in the Korean War, 158 in Afghanistan and more than 130 Canadians serving as peacekeepers around the world.  Until lately, most of them were not professional soldiers, just everyday people showing extraordinary pluck.  They may not get individual monuments. But their names are inscribed on cenotaphs (Greek, meaning 'empty tomb') in cities, small towns and villages across the country.

And at 11 am every November 11th, we gather at those cenotaphs to remember all those lives lost.  Sometimes, after the ceremony, perhaps after a few glasses of beer, people join in on songs like this one, sung by Vera Lynn and company... lest we forget.