This is my third soldier biography in my time spent at high school, in my small town of Smiths Falls. But this bio in particular was somehow more special to me than any other one I’ve done before. I always make very good connections to the soldiers I’m researching. By the end, the soldiers become more of a friend than a just a man who fought in a war 100 something years ago. For me, uncovering their stories and adventures and identities is the most fascinating part of researching a soldier. Sometimes I think we forget that even though these men are heroes, they were once just boys, some working on the family farm, some who wanted to attend college and start a family, some who maybe got into a little trouble here and there. They were people just like you and I, who put down all their future plans and dreams to go fight. Uncovering the stories that make them heroes might be captivating, but I think that the stories that make them just regular people are the most interesting.

So what if my soldier's story wasn’t a mystery? What if it had already been told to me before by my grandparents and aunts and uncles?

Here I was, going into my second tour and researching my great, great Uncle Bob whom my Mother’s side of the family held near and dear to their hearts. I was given  a photo of Robert and two of his brothers, and a box, packed with hundreds of beautifully handwritten letters from Robert to his mother, which my grandma so graciously helped me read because I was a little rusty with reading the penmanship in which he wrote in. I was told countless family secrets, some which had me laughing, in tears, or completely shocked about some of the things that had occurred in my family long before I was even thought of. Then it was time to meet him.
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I really couldn’t help but feel nervous, I was the very last person to read their bio, and even though all the teachers I had met on the tour had become such great friends in such a short amount of time, I was still so eager to impress them and excited to show them how proud I was of my uncle and the person he was in his letters to his mother. We arrived at the most beautiful cemetery that overlooked the valley. And I wandered through the graves, jittering with excitement upon meeting Robert, clutching on to my biography and one of his letters, typed, so I could read it. And the moment I saw him, I couldn’t help but fight back the tears that threatened to fall, because here, in France, in an unfamiliar place, was someone who was familiar, who was from home, who was my blood. Surrounded by my new family, I read his biography with a smile on my face and tears running down my cheeks. And then his letter, with laughter echoing though the cemetery while I delivered his love for his mother and the rest of his family. And with my final words “Love always, Robert” I bowed my head and smiled, so grateful to be a part of my family and to be able to share my uncle as the person he was. 

- Submitted by Emily

Another exciting and emotional France! Today’s objective was to visit the reality and narrative of Canada’s role in D-day. The drive towards Courseulles-sur-Mer was intriguing and special. I’ve always had a big heart for our soldiers of Normandy, even though I had no family active in the war. Seeing the terrain and the difficulties that they would have to endure is saddening.
The beach of Juno was quiet with a few children, adults and animals running in and out of the water so freely. Did our Canadian soldiers have such a free run? What was it like to land on the beach not knowing your faith? Was that going to be the last time you would see your comrades that you trained with for so long?
As I walked down the beach to the waterline, it was low tide, I tried to picture the ships and soldiers coming towards the beach. The soldiers must have been so scared. Then I began to think, what was the purpose? What would we as Canadians gain from the June 6? Was it necessary? Were they able to achieve the goal of June 6? I’ll leave it up to you.
The liberation of many communities and cities from the Germain’s has left us with many dead and injured. 160,000 Allied soldiers participated in the D-Day Invasion. It was a force of unity. It is estimated that 4,413 of them died. One can only imagine the energy, the courage, the fear, and the prayers that were uttered on that night, this night, in l944.

- Submitted by Robert
 

Facing these iconic monuments, so many emotions arise.  These monuments so carefully and meticulously designed by men to evoke emotion and, what else... Respect? Reverencee? Admiration? There remains another monument maybe not as often considered - the land itself.  As we make the drive to see the much anticipated  Vimy monument, does the land itself not stand as a testament? If you didn't know  the reason behind the irregular appearance of the fields you could convince yourself that it was an enchanted space with little hills and valleys  - a fairyland. But the reality of those hills and valleys, those pock marks on the French landscape, is not so enchanting.  The trenches that  zig zag through Vimy and Beaumont-Hamel tell the awful truth of trench life in World War I.   As you look at those tunnels that were home to so many  soldiers - the land itself speak if its horrible memories. The scars it bears tell me that the war will not be forgotten.  Though crops now grow in fields that have been recovered, the ground remembers that young men died there; that people did unspeakable things to each other on those fields.  

The land forgives though. Fields are restored.  Roads are rebuilt.   Towns are brought back to life and in sharp contrast, children run and play in glorious innocence where humanity once devised plans to annihilate one another.  I can't help but think that the soldiers who once trod upon it, smile contentedly while children run innocently over.

Psalm 19: 1 says, "The heavens declare the glory of God."   What then does this land declare?

​- Submitted by Kathryn