Remembrance Day extends beyond borders

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 08/11/2019 (2341 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

Since my arrival in Canada as a refugee 30 years ago, I have made a point of observing Remembrance Day with a minute of silence in private, or by attending a public service at the Valour Road memorial, or at the Minto Armoury in Winnipeg’s West End.

Every year, I stand in honour of those who served their country in uniform regardless of their ethnicity, nationality or political allegiance. The tradition of remembering the sacrifices of soldiers who served their country with courage is an acknowledgment of a universal code of comradeship in arms.

Observing Remembrance Day allows me to also pay tribute to my father’s service of 35 years. He graduated from École Navale (France) in 1938, returned home and transferred to the Imperial Iranian Army, where he served as an artillery officer and an instructor until his retirement.

He saw combat, was decorated, endured remote postings, trained many officers, commanded troops and ended his service just before his promotion to brigadier-general in the 1960s.

After retirement, he was appointed to the Iranian counterpart of the Red Cross, where he organized relief operations, translated emergency relief manuals from French into Farsi and did a tour in Vietnam for the Red Lion and Sun Society of Iran.

In 1979, the Islamic revolutionary courts ordered his belongings confiscated and left him with only his army pension, telling him he should be thankful for not being executed. In September 1980, when Iraqi forces invaded Iran, the same revolutionary government insisted that he return to active duty, nearly two decades after retirement and despite his poor health. The Islamic zealots realized late that purging the entire high command of the shah’s army had cost the country profoundly, as many cities and towns fell victim to the advancing Iraqi army.

Dad died in 1982 at age 68, when he was denied a passport to seek medical treatment abroad for his failing heart. I remember the agony in his face as he quietly watched the nightly broadcast from the front lines, resenting the illness that prevented him from defending his country. He sat powerless listening intently to the daily casualty reports, fearing the loss of my brothers, who were embedded with the remnants of the Iranian Royal Marines defending the oil city of Abadan with small arms, surrounded by the Iraqi forces.

On Monday, at exactly 11 a.m., I will again stand in silence honouring the sacrifices of all who served with integrity, and remembering the anguish of all who fell victim to tyranny and indignity of wars everywhere. Lest we forget!

Allan Wise is a freelance Winnipeg writer and commentator.