REMEMBRANCE DAY . . . We Remember




If I should die, think only this of me:

That there’s some corner of a foreign field

That is forever England.  There shall be

In that rich earth a richer dust concealed:

Gave,  once,  her flowers to love, her ways to roam,

A body of England’s, breathing English air,

Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home


remembrance day 3 soldiers


And think, this heart,all evil shed away,

A pulse in the eternal mind, no less

Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given,

Her signs and sounds; dream happy as her day;

And laughter, learnt of friends;  and gentleness,

In hearts at peace,  under an English heaven.



remembrance day many soldiers

My father-in-law World War Two.



My uncle,  Bertram Henry Henderson.  Killed in action October 27, 1944.



My older sister and myself with my Uncle shortly before he was shipped overseas.






Our Uncle’s grave continues to be looked after by the Belgian Family entrusted in their care more than 70 years ago.  Members of that family continue to maintain contact with our family.


My Father – World War One.


( The Soldier – Rupert Brooke)


33 thoughts on “REMEMBRANCE DAY . . . We Remember

    • Tomorrow is Remembrance Day for Canadians (and those who belong to the Commonwealth), Lar and I will got to the cenotaph in our little village of Ladner. I know I will shed a few tears Tinny.

    • When we lived in Amsterdam the Dutch sounded the air raid warning (from world war 2) once a week. EVERYONE would stop for two minutes of silence. It was eerie to suddenly see bicycle traffic, people on the street and in the stores… all stop in the tracks until the warning stopped.

  1. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about your post, Virginia. I especially love the photograph of your Uncle with the two children. What a beautiful tribute. Big Hugs, Theadora (So the same family is taking care of his grave? Amazing. Wonderful, too.)

    • Dearest Theadora. We have just returned from a Remembrance Day ceremony at the cenotaph in our little village. The crowds were enormous. I am sure all of us were thinking of the two Canadian soldiers killed in Ottawa and Quebec a few weeks ago. Shed more than a few tears.
      The children in the photograph are my older sister and myself.

  2. Such a beautiful, loving tribute, Virginia! My misty eyes were made moister when I learned a Belgian family tends your uncle’s grave. I had no idea they were so cared for. Resa xoxo
    PS Who wrote the wonderful poem?

  3. Resa, the poem was written by Rupert Brooke (l887 – 1915) – an English poet known for his idealistic war sonnets written during the first world war. The photograph of the soldier (my Mother’s younger brother) with myself and my older was taken just before he shipped out. XX V.

  4. What a lovely tribute, Virginia. I thought that poem was Brooke’s. My f-i-l landed at Omaha Beach and was also in the Pacific theater, emerging alive but not completely unscathed. We have Veteran’s Day on Wednesday, which is, unlike Memorial Day, for thanking living veterans. But both are always appropriate.


    • Shortly before my Uncle left for overseas he visited our home. He had a gift for my mother. A black Bakelite bracelet studded with rhinestones. I thought it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I continue to look for a similar bracelet in thrift shops and yard sales, Miss T. I believe the bracelet was the beginning of my love for sparkly jewellery et all.

    • We’ve just returned from a trip to Toronto to visit our grandchildren and great grandchildren. An experience that makes my heart beat faster, Janet. Thank you so very much for asking. XX Virginia

    • It’s always a poignant time. We attended the ceremony at the cenotaph in out small village. There were hundreds of people of all ages. We don’t forget, Resa. XXOO Virginia

  5. When post-traumatic-stress is not dealt with properly the fall-out can come in terrible and costly ways. Both the body and the mind must be repaired. It is shameful this neglect persists even with all the knowledge of its dangers.

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