GRAFITTI- LOVE IT OR HATE IT!

I happen to like grafitti- if it is tastefully done. No swear words, no racial slurs, no provocative pictures.There is a debate locally to fine those who do grafitti. If I had a building- which I do not- I would invite local artists to compete and allow the best drawing in my mind to be done. It makes dull brick walls interesting and does draw people to your location. It started with cave paintings- perhaps they were just grafitti too! What do you think- art or nuisance? Have you ever painted a rock near a highway? The side of a building? A sandwalk? Of course, not a church, synagogue or any religious place or in a cemetery. Even grafitti artists should have class and manners! And respect!

WEAR YOUR POPPY PROUDLY

We wear the poppy to remember those who served our country and those who are serving now. Do we realize 152 have died in the mission in Afghanistan? Young men and women serving their country. Let us also reflect on those who have been injured and urge the VA to provide proper compensation to those individuals. My grandfather Ernie Ellis served in World War I. My Dad served in World War II along with other members of my family and family friends. My niece's husband Jim served twice in Afghanistan. Thank you to all who have been dedicated to protecting our freedoms and helping others in the world. Do you know someone who served for our country? Will you stop and reflect on what that sacrifice means?

CASSINO WAR MEMORIAL PART 2

The Cassino War Cemetery is in the Commune of Cassino, Province of Frosinone, Italy. There are 4265 grave markers of British Commonwealth Forces from World War Two. 855 Canadians are buried there. On the Monument with 4,054 names of individuals who do not have a grave there are 194 Canadian names. The cemetery is well kept. In the distance on the mountain is the Monte Cassino Monastery. The history of the battles in 1944 is well recorded and analysed. For me this cemetery represents a piece of Canada. Married to an Italian born Canadian- Adolph- I had always heard about the area and his hometown. When I visited this cemetery in 1991, I came away feeling that a part of Canada will always belong there. In the weeks leading up to Remembrance Day, I always ask the Veterans selling the poppies what campaign they fought. If it was the Italian campaign, I always mention my visit to Cassino. I am sure the memories of lost comrades in arms never leave them.

WAS I WORTH THEIR SACRIFICE? CASSINO WAR CEMETERY

I wrote this story several months after visiting Adolph's home in Italy in August, 1991. I tried to have it published but to no avail. Here is my recollection.

Sometimes it takes a trip abroad to discover a Canadian sense of self. While touring the local sites in my husband's hometown of Cassino, Italy, south of Rome last summer we visited the three war cemeteries in the area. They are entitled the Polish, The German and the English cemeteries.

During World War 2, the Germans had established two main lines of defense- the Gustav and Hitler lines to check the allies from advancing to Rome. During April and May 1944, there was major fighting in the area culminating with the bombing of the Benedictine Monastery on Monte Cassino. It was imperative to secure that location as it had a strategic vantage point overlooking the Liri Valley. Once captured it allowed the Allies an open road to Rome. On May 16, 1944 the First Canadian Corps received orders to advance on the Hitler line 6 miles up the Valley. The attack began May 23; Frosinone, the capital of the region was occupied by May 31. The Canadian campaign came to an end in the area as the Allies advanced to liberate Rome.

As we visited each cemetery, we noted the varying locations. The Polish cemetery is located near the Abbey where they had secured the Cassino position and the Monastery on May 18, 1944. The Polish General who died several years after the War requested to be buried with his troops. The German cemetery is located in the Valley with triple graves of soldiers as there were just too many to bury. Rows and rows of young men, which makes it difficult to picture them as an enemy now.

Our last visit was the English Cemetery or really the British Commonwealth one. Walking into the cemetery, I read the signs, inscribed on the two walls at the entrance which state,

"WITHIN THIS CEMETERY STAND MONUMENTS WHICH BEAR THE NAMES OF THE SOLDIERS OF THE BRITISH COMMONWEALTH AND EMPIRE WHO FELL IN ASSAULTS UPON THE SHORES OF SICILY AND ITALY OR IN LATER BATTLES TO FREE ITALIAN SOIL AND TO WHOM THE FORTUNE OF WAR DENIED A KNOWN AND HONOURED GRAVE. AROUND THEM ARE THE GRAVES OF THEIR COMRADES WHO DIED FIGHTING IN THESE PARTS TO OPEN THE WAY TO ROME AND THE NORTH."

The other wall bears this inscription, " THE LAND ON WHICH THIS CEMETERY STANDS IS THE GIFT OF THE ITALIAN PEOPLE FOR THE PERPETUAL RESTING PLACE OF THE SAILORS, SOLDIERS AND AIRMEN WHO ARE HONOURED HERE."

The Canadian section was quite large and distinguishable by the Maple Leaf adorning the top of each stone. It is one small cemetery of many in 74 countries that honour the 109,980 Canadians who died in the First and Seconds World Wars.

I began to read the names of the men of the regiments of the First Canadian Corps. From Edmonton, Calgary, Saskatoon, West Nova Scorch, Quebec, Ontario, British Columbia, Special Services, the Engineers and more, they were all resting in peace.. What overwhelmed me were the dates in April, May. How many had fallen together. Comrades in Life! Comrades in Death!

My Canadians! Our Canadians! Tears and emotion overcame me. I left my companions as I did not want them to see my tears. I continued to walk amongst the rows wanting a glimpse of each stone. I felt I owed them; to acknowledge their being, their worth. Young men mostly in their teens, their twenties, their thirties, who were denied a life that only those in middle age and older can appreciate that death in youth really has no rewards.

But why was I crying? I felt a sense of pride. Those men fought for us, our freedom. They believed in a greater cause. I felt a sense of anger and the realization that if every Politician and General would visit the cemeteries of the previous war, perhaps we could try to find alternatives. I felt a sense of sadness. Those men were sons, brothers, husbands, fathers, friends. They were missed at home. They did not chose that resting place. I remembered. An uncle had fought in Italy. A family friend went through there. Were those men their comrades?

All the cemeteries were very quiet and peaceful. In Europe, they are kept clean and often better maintained than the surrounding towns. Our men are honoured there. Almost fifty years buried while the living has gone on.

Would they be proud of Canada today? Would they consider us grateful of the freedoms they secured for us? Would they feel their cause was understood. Am I doing for Canada and freedom what I inherited from those men? To all those buried in the many cemeteries, am I worthy of your sacrifice?

April 1992
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