Royal relevance

With a line on the grass between them, King George VI and Queen Elizabeth (Queen Mum) beyond meet airmen of the Dam Busters squadron at RAF Scampton in May 1943.

Everybody was new at this. Royalty meeting members of the public at such close range hadn’t really happened much before. The organizers of the meeting, however, went so far as to paint a white line on the grass – like marking side lines on a football field – to keep the planned inspection orderly. Two Royal family members walked on one side of the painted line, and members of the military being inspected stood on the other, including a Royal Air Force pilot named Dave Shannon.

“It’s Flight Lieutenant Shannon’s 21st birthday,” his commanding officer told the King and Queen as they paused before him.

“You seem to be a very well preserved 21,” King George VI told Shannon. “You must have a party tonight.”

The King could probably have spoken for the entire British Commonwealth that day, three-quarters of a century ago. (more…)

Never again

Uxbridge Secondary School students pose in front of German gun emplacement during their field trip to D-Day beaches in France.

They all looked sharp in their specially tailored commemorative jackets. They responded to the atmosphere of being away from home on a field trip with not unexpected exuberance; they looked pretty pumped. But when several of them spoke publicly the other night in Ypres, Belgium, I could tell these teenagers had changed even in the few days we’ve been away.

One of them, Sam Futhy, a Grade 10 student from Uxbridge Secondary School, noted a visit to one of the Great War cemeteries.

“When I saw the number of grave stones,” he said. “I don’t know. It just hit me.” (more…)

A prince by any other name

The new arrival – a “royal” entry.

Everybody was buzzing about it. There had been a new arrival. We knew it was a boy. But nobody knew what he would be called. We were all breathless with speculation. Then after a couple of days, we saw the announcement from the parents on social media.

“All right,” the mother said by text. “It’s official. Tell the press and the paparazzi. We have a name…”

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Cuts more than skin deep

Parks Canada guide, Sylvie, greeted our tour group to Beaumont-Hamel, this past spring.

As we arrived, she emerged from the information pavilion. She wore her identifiable green uniform, complete with department identification and Maple Leaf insignia. She offered a warm welcome and explained she would be our guide for the next half-hour. She was a long way from home, but made us feel as if we had never left Canada.

“Welcome to the Beaumont-Hamel National Historic Site,” the young woman said. I learned later her name was Sylvie, a student from Winnipeg, and that she was employed for several months by Parks Canada to guide visitors around the site.

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