All they ask is for you to remember

Commentary by Chris Clegg

The portrait sits proudly above my TV in the living of my house. It is the showcase photograph in my house. Yet, I have very little understanding of the purpose behind the photo. It is of my grandfather and his brother taken in World War I. It is a majestic photograph, taken of two men – two war heroes – in full uniform. I have no idea why I was the chosen one of many grandchildren to receive it. My grandfather had 22 grandchildren. In the pecking order, I was a lot closer to the youngest than oldest. I would have thought one of the older grandchildren would have been chosen to receive it. Yet, there it sits in my living room. Of two men who proudly served their country. No one needs to tell you of the sacrifices made by men like my grandfather. Almost every family in Canada has been touched in its history by war and experienced great loss. Yet, I know very little history of my grandfather and his efforts in the war. In fact, I know more of another man who lived in the Gage area near Fairview where I grew up. His name was Fred Knott. Fred was an Aboriginal who did odd jobs around the community to make a living. He resided in a house that used to be a granary. He had a wood stove. No luxuries. He was extremely poor. No one in Gage worked harder than Fred did when a job had to be done. The term “100 per cent effort” never applied to Fred because he was always above that. I never realized the wealth of knowledge this war veteran had to share if one asked him. It was my brother, Ben, who knew Fred best. During breaks, Ben would talk to him and he would share stories about the war. Maybe I was a little too young to care, but Ben had a genuine interest he still holds today. Fred died March 26, 1976 when I was 14. He got drunk and died of exposure in a snowbank. In his obituary, I got to know Fred better. In fact, for some reason, I was the one in the family who clipped the obituary from the newspaper and put it in my photo album. On April 23, 1941, Fred and his uncle, Larry Supernault, and his brother Robert, joined the Canadian Armed Forces. Fred was a corporal. He was seriously wounded on the front lines of Europe and was transported to England to medical treatment before coming home. Fred’s obituary read he refused all medical benefit entitled to him until a few years before his death. He didn’t take one cent entitled to him for over 20 years. Fred, however, never held a grudge. Like so many tens of thousands of men and women, Fred knew he had a duty to perform and marched off to war. Fred never once said he was bitter about being wounded. But, Fred did want people to remember. There is no proper tribute we can pay to the men and women who gave so much. For decades, all they have asked is we remember and respect what they did. There are hundreds of thousands of grandfathers and Fred Knotts who have passed away. Hundreds of thousands of stories lost and experiences to share. There are fewer and fewer veterans left to share the stories. It makes it all more precious to let the ones still living tell their stories and it’s even more important to take the time to listen. Of all the grandchildren, I am afforded the avenue to share this story to thousands of people. Perhaps this is why my grandfather’s photo hangs in my living room.