On Remembrance...

"No talking. No talking. No talking." A little girl repeats her mother's request over top of our two minutes of silence. See places her red mitten over her mom's mouth, a gag-order enforced by a three year-old.

"No talking. No talking. No talking."

When I was that age at Remembrance Day ceremonies, I used to play in the snow at my mother's feet. Quietly, building little snowmen and hilly villages. When I had reached an age where crawling around in the snow during 'God Save the Queen' would have been frowned upon, I made snowflakes in the snow with the tread of my boot--shifting back in forth in my shlobby Sorrels to keep my toes warm.

But there was no snow this November. In fact the little girl didn't even have her coat on it was so warm. Unheard of. I would have been barely able to move underneath my four layers of clothing and my puffy snowsuit. I walked like a cowboy fresh from a days ride--only I wore neon pink.

"No talking. No talking. No talking." No silence. An unforeseen effect of global warming.

Then a cadet faints. Dead away. A first-aider who was pacing by the ranks, looking for signs one of them would topple over missed this one. She rushes over. After they had lost one a flurry of action ensues. Their commanders quickly spread the message: bend at the knees, wiggle your toes, don't let the blood pool. Parents break rank with the rest of the crowd to reinforce the importance of toe wiggling.

I had never noticed this happening before. If it had, the snow in past years would have cushioned the fall, at the very least.

Despite the losses we push forward in our act of remembrance. The bugler plays, or squeaks through, Revielle, we go over the wars by number mostly, the wreaths are placed on the epitaph.

As the soldiers march away, the muted sound of gloved clapping raises and falls through the crowd. This is normally reserved for the veterans but it's not that easy to tell who the vets are anymore. You can't just expect them to be the old timers --Afghanistan has changed that. I stop clapping when I see zits. The cadets had risked fainting but if applause is all we have to offer those who fought/fight for our country I wasn't just going to give it away. Some people continue--probably the moms who are glad their children survived.

Today's ceremony seemed to go by faster then normal. My dad say he thinks it was because it was well run. I say it was because it was boarding on warm out. I tend to think freezing is the most important part of Remembrance Day, token suffering for half an hour. When you can't feel your toes it makes you appreciate having them, versus those who lost them to trench foot.

Finally, it's time for hot chocolate. Only I'm not that cold, so I don't really need it.