William H.A. Willbond MSM, CD


When I was a little kid, my dad was overseas at war.
I remember the old guys who had been over there before.
They were veterans like old Andy Dolan: he fought at Verdun.
Each November 11th they remembered a war that they had won.

The war to end all wars, they called that terrible slaughter.
Parading in their hundreds, alongside their sons and daughters,
To the Ottawa National Cenotaph slow marching, they went
Remembering fallen comrades whose young lives had been spent.

Wearing their campaign medals, pinned proudly upon each chest.
They had been the cream of the crop, and they were Canada’s best.
Their sons and their grandsons have now taken their place.
Marching to the Cenotaph they continue to pick up the pace.

The war to end all wars goes on and on, the killings never stopped.
Canadian casualties they continue, and our KIAs still drop.
And on each November the 11th the survivors still parade.
Our Padres still keep praying that global peace will be made.

We watched the last of the WW1 soldiers fade away from the scene.
WW2 and Korean War veterans are thinning each year, it seems.
The names keep getting listed in the 7th book in the Peace tower.
Their buddies they keep parading on 11th of November, 11th hour.

Bless them all.

Photo by Herzog (Downtown Vancouver circa 1972)
Photo by Herzog (Downtown Vancouver circa 1972)