As November 11th approaches, we remember the men and women who fought for our freedom. Our Facebook newsfeeds are flooded with images of family and friends who have risked their lives to save ours. Lest we forget. But, what if we didn't have those images? Would we forget? My grandfather enlisted shortly after Canada declared war on Germany. This is a portrait of my grandfather taken in 1941, when he was quartered in Toronto. He would not be shipped over to Europe until the following year. He appears proud and looks hopeful. He is a young man who has not yet seen the horrors of war.
There is something moving about seeing a World War II image, like this one taken of my grandfather in 1945. There are more indicators than the handwritten year that take you back to that time. The uniform he was wearing, the graininess of it, black and white film was still more common than colour. You would not mistake this for an image taken last year. His face has aged since his portrait in 1941. The war is over, and there is cause for celebration, but it came at a high cost. He never talked about the war, aside from one story. The morning that his tank went on patrol without him. It never came back. Then, in 1998 "Saving Private Ryan" came out in theatres. He said it was real to him; that it accurately portrayed what it was like to be a soldier in the Second World War. He had fought in Italy in the Battle of Anzio, also known as "The Flawed Invasion". William Woodruff is quoted as saying "I remember the battle for Anzio as the most brutal that I fought during World War II. I also remember it as the most futile; for fifty years its futility has haunted me".
Grandpa's one physical scar was the loss of hearing from the loud noises amplified inside his tank. The emotional scars were far worse. I think that they are subtly evident when you compare these two portraits.
In my experience, men do not love being photographed. They are usually dragged by their wives to the photo session, and make it clear that they want out of there asap! But, all of the soldiers, like my Grandpa, posed in their uniforms. Why? Because there was a chance this would be their last portrait. When Grandpa and his friends were shipped overseas, he left behind a young daughter, Sandra (just two or three years old) and his pregnant wife. What if he didn't come back? What would they have left of their father and husband?
Grandpa wouldn't meet his firstborn son until his return years later in 1946. My own mother wasn't born until 1947! There is so much significance to this "final" portrait, which was fortunately NOT Grandpa's final portrait. It is cherished in my family, as are the images that follow. We are grateful everyday that Grandpa returned from the war, rejoined and expanded his family. I just wish that all of his friends had been able to do the same. Let us not forget the men and women who have sacrificed so much to let us live in the best country in the world. And, let us not forget the importance of a portrait and the story that it tells.
shoot.print.love.laurie
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