In honor of Remembrance day, let me share a story about my grandfather.

My grandfather served in WW II with the "Calgary tanks", and as such was on the front lines of almost every battle involving Canadians.

He helped fight Rommel in Africa, helped invade Italy, and much more.

He was wounded several times. pieces of shrapnel were permanently lodged in his lungs, and in his shoulder.

He had been told, as most were, that the war would be over in months, but served six years. In the process, he missed his small children growing up.

When he came home, he had nightmares, and would shove my grandmother down and shout that she should keep her head down or get shot.

Apparently, he had witnessed one of his fellow soldiers stick their head out of a tank only to get shot and killed.

These days, he would have been diagnosed with PTSD, but then they didn't think about what war would do to the men who served, so he just lived with the horror and the scars till he died.

These are the kind of people we honor today.

And I do so gladly, in his name, and all the other soldiers of all the wars.

May they (and we) someday know true peace ...