Remembrance Day - No Stone Left Alone

I was deeply moved by the project launched in 2011 by the No Stone Left Alone Memorial Foundation in Edmonton, Alberta. The initiative brings students to cemeteries every November to read veterans’ names aloud and place poppies on their headstones. What began as a local project has grown into a national movement across Canada. (Reference: City News Edmonton)

There is something profoundly tender about a young person pausing beside a headstone, speaking a name, and placing a poppy there. To me, that simple act says, “You are remembered. Your life mattered.” It makes remembrance personal; not only a moment of silence, but a moment of connection between generations.

This project touched my heart especially because my dad, my father-in-law, and my uncles served in World War II. For me, Remembrance Day carries the faces and names of my own family. Seeing their generation of soldiers and generations that followed honored in this thoughtful way fills me with gratitude, and with hope that their stories will continue to be heard long after those who lived them are gone. My dad’s story is one I hold close to my heart. Sharing it is my own small way of keeping his voice present and honoring his service. With love and gratitude, I would like to share this excerpt from his story.

It was 1942, and Ray had made the decision to travel from his family farm near Kitscoty, Alberta to the closest recruitment office and enlist in the army. His military training took place in Regina Saskatchewan and then on to Dartmouth Nova Scotia and in 1943, Ray and fellow soldiers boarded a ship bound for England. Once there he was assigned to the Princess Patricia’s Canadian Light Infantry which was part of the 2nd Infantry Brigade, 1st Canadian Infantry Division. He was given a uniform and rail pass. There were new challenges as they moved into France. Advancing through the countryside, Ray and his comrades relied on each other for survival. The trenches offered a measure of protection, yet they were also places of constant tension, where the threat of enemy fire was ever-present. One morning, as the men prepared to move out, a soldier Ray closely served with was killed by a sudden burst of enemy fire while standing right beside him. The shock of loss was a sharp contrast to the numbness that often accompanied the daily grind of war. In the crowded trenches, grief was a private burden. Soldiers found comfort in small acts; sharing a cigarette, offering a word.

The infantry soldiers crossed numerous canals and ditches, often moving through cold waist-deep water. The nights were quiet, only the muffled sounds of boots slogging through mud and water breaking the silence. Every shadow could conceal danger.

In 1944 Ray’s Conversion training sent him to the front lines of the war. Ray’s platoon witnessed the bombing of Bonn, Germany. They saw fires raging and the night sky illuminated. There was force and frequency in the explosions. His description of the event was “The bombers blew the “hell” right out of it.” (“Hell” clearly meant Nazi Germany aggression!).

As the infantry pressed forward into Germany during the final stages of the Second World War, their mission was to secure every village and hamlet to ensure the safety of the advancing Allied forces. They moved cautiously through unfamiliar streets, checking every building, always alert to the possibility of booby traps and snipers. The discovery of a well-stocked cellar offered a delightful, if fleeting, return to normalcy, especially liquor. Between towns out in the countryside, they would sometimes hop on the tanks that were advancing and hitch a ride.

The War is over September 2,1945! It was a long return trip home. Ray was discharged from the army on December 1, 1945, 81 years ago. He came home and farmed in the Fenham district. His story is one of resilience and sacrifice, my dad, Corporal Ray Flewell! This has been the spirit of soldiers who served in Canada’s name through every decade! God Bless the precious memory of them all!