Ted Barris

The ceremony was about to begin. Most of the dignitaries had assembled. The sound system was live. The pipe and drum bands were tuned and ready to go. But the MC of the proceedings held off until just before 11 o’clock.

“We’re awaiting some guests of honour,” Colonel Bob Chapman, the MC, said. “They’ll be here momentarily.”

Then a transit-sized bus pulled up to the curb on Simcoe Street in Oshawa. The bus was resplendent in poppy insignia and Remembrance Day slogans and when its doors opened, out came about a dozen veterans, most under their own power, but clearly needing some assistance. That’s when this heart-warming thing happened. From the ocean of people awaiting the start of the event came a handful of young people in Air Force uniforms, each boy and girl assigned to a different veteran. Gingerly and respectfully, each of the cadets directed each vet to his front-row seat and ensured the man was completely comfortable before they rejoined the audience.

The Royal Canadian Legion in Oshawa was observing the 60th anniversary of the end of the Korean War, last Saturday morning. Branches 43 and 606 of the RCL were staging their Korea War Veterans’ Appreciation Day. The rest of the observance was typical enough, with speeches from municipal, provincial and federal politicians, the playing of The Last Post, prayers, the laying of wreaths and the minutes of silence.

But I was particularly moved by the young cadets and later sat with them. In particular, I listened to Maegan Extross, 16, and Rechelle Mortimore, 18.

“I attend cadet activities about four times a week,” Rechelle said. She was well-spoken and unflustered by my curiosity edging into an interview.

I was impressed that something as apparently old-fashioned and simple as attending cadet training and offering volunteer service could be more attractive than going to the movies, parties or just texting pals on her smart phone.

“I’m studying psychology and English at York University,” she added, “but I always find the time to do this.”

I asked Meagan and the others if they were actually getting Air Force training. Because my only knowledge of such things harkens back to the British Commonwealth Air Training Plan (during the Second World War), I wondered what hopes they have of actually flying aircraft.

“We get ground training and can learn to fly gliders,” Meagan said. “And some get the chance to fly engine-driven aircraft.”

As I moved my questions around the table to some of Meagan’s and Rechelle’s pals, I noticed Rechelle – with a big smile on her face – act as if she were stealing one of the boy’s snacks as he talked. I caught her and kiddingly asked her why her parents didn’t feed her. She laughed.

“I’m from a family of eleven brothers and sisters,” she said.

“Boarding house reach,” I quipped, but she didn’t get the reference. “If you don’t want to starve at the table, you have to move fast,” I added. She understood. And she told me her father is a construction worker, her mother a nurse.

The rest of the Korea War Veterans’ Appreciation Day festivities unfolded predictably. After the outdoor ceremony, the vets, dignitaries and members of the public retired inside the Legion hall where event organizer Myrna Picotte and her volunteers staged an honorary vets’ luncheon. All the Korean War vets, including Myrna’s husband, former artilleryman Bert Picotte, sat in their distinctive green jackets and berets, their chests full of medals appropriately puffed out this day. The organizers of the event asked me to speak for a few minutes and I obliged, but took the opportunity to acknowledge my cadet acquaintances.

“I want you to take notice of the young sea, land and air cadets you see serving us around the room,” I told the audience. “They don’t realize it, but they are closer to the vets being honoured than any of us.”

I suggested that all the elderly men in their green jackets were like those young cadets a generation ago. They were about to begin their post-secondary educations or chase that first job. After the Second World War, it seemed, the world was their oyster. But when the Korean War came along, they chose to answer a different call, not to fight necessarily, but to serve in the first ever defence of the United Nations Peace Charter.

“They were in 1950 as these young cadets are today,” I suggested, “choosing to volunteer time, energy and attention to things other than themselves. And in a day when we often say, ‘Today’s youth don’t respect anything,’ isn’t that commendable.”

I’d made my point. Both the vets and the cadets sensed the connection and applauded. Then, I got caught in a swarm of cadets. They wanted smart-phone pictures of us all together and just as quickly they texted the photos to all their friends. After all, they’re still kids.