The Icelandic connection - 01.06.2014, Page 6

148
ICELANDIC CONNECTION
Vol. 66 #4
Editorial
Lest We Forget
by Lorna Tergesen
On the eleventh day of the eleventh
month we honour those who went
to war for us. This year marks the one
hundredth anniversary of the beginning
of World War I. Wars still continue, some
sparked by race, religion or greed, and the
fact remains that the wars that were to
end all, certainly did not.
In this issue we hope to bring you
a variety of the things our community
endured and took part in. We have
material from both of the wars and also of
those who remained behind.
My personal family stories tell of my
great-grandmother losing a son at Ypres.
She was a very small woman but
very strong. It is said the only time she
truly cried was when she received the
notification that her son had been killed.
In my husband’s family, they too lost a
loved one. He was shot down over Iceland
just before the war ended. His body was
found by Icelandic fishermen, who took
his dog tags to return to the authorities,
but gave him back to the sea. His sister
was a war nurse and mourned the loss of
her brother, but where she served was a
safer area that allowed her to travel a little
and meet many folks that became life
long friends.
With having my grandchildren
growing up in a distant city, I wrote
short biographies of these two soldiers
and mailed them to the children for
November 11.
My objective was to make them
aware of the sacrifices that so many made
in order for us to live the life we do today.
I remember some things from World
War II, such as being sat down to write or
rather print letters to various soldiers.There
were many knitting bees at my Amma’s,
where all the neighbouring women came
to use Amma’s knitting machine and then
“finish” off the stockings by hand. In the
packages that were organized there were
often other knitted goods such as “bolurs”
or wool vests and mitts. Because of the
shortage of men to work the farm, my
mother was a worker along side my father
and I was left with Amma. I remember
counting the food stamps and hoping
that we would be able to buy either raisins
or prunes for those special treats that we
take for granted today.
Another very vivid memory is that of
honouring our war veterans on November
11 at our school after the war was over. The
entire school would be marched down to the
theatre where a program was put on by our
teachers and the Royal Canadian Legion.
It was a very solemn affair with poetry and
music. My shock was realizing that some
of the students were silently sobbing. Only
then did I realize that they had lost a father
or someone very dear to them.