By Arnold Malone
Pioneer Columnist
For many things, we attach a value. A new car is forty-five thousand dollars, and a toaster oven is one hundred and forty dollars. A dollar value can’t be attached to freedom. If there is any doubt, ask the women of Afghanistan. Would ten million dollars compensate for having to stay in your house until given permission to leave, never allowed to be educated, or unable to use your skills in meaningful activities? What value is money without freedom?
In 2019 Susan and I took a European trip of a lifetime. We toured many military sites in North Europe. We were at war cemeteries in the Netherlands, Germany, crossed Belgium (Flanders), and walked the WWI and WWII landing beaches on the shores of Northern France.
The sky-scraping monument at Vimy Ridge is a reminder of the enormous sacrifice that Canadians made during World War I and it is a striking marker for Canada’s entry into nationhood.
We visited a war Cemetery in Germany and stood by the graveside of my cousin who, as a child, I had known. On his headstone was his age, 23. Other members of his family had the privilege of living full and productive lives. His was given in the struggle for freedom. He was not alone. There are 63 Canadian war cemeteries in Europe. Row upon row of young men and women lost forever. It is a long walk across the length and breadth of these cemeteries. We whispered our heavy thoughts as we walked beside those youthful saviours of our freedom.
I have no idea how much freedom is worth, but anyone who has ever visited a military cemetery will forever know the price we paid. Given their sacrifice, we owe so much for our present privileges.
In the new war museum near Groesbeek, Netherlands, we witnessed the horror of war. Among our experiences was being in a simulated bomb shelter.
We opened the heavy door and went inside. On either side, there were long bench seats. Only Susan and I were in the shelter. On the wall was a button beside the word START. We pushed the button.
For nearly a minute, there was only silence, then we heard the faint drone of a far-off fleet of bomber planes. While scarcely audible, it was obvious we were hearing the sound of an in-coming fleet of bombers.
In time we began to hear the muffled sound of distant bombs exploding. As minutes passed, the impact of bombs drew closer. The sounds grew louder, and the shelter began to quiver. The lights flickered and then went out. The bombing mission continued until we were in the midst of direct hits with bombs exploding above us. We were in the dark. The shelter shook violently. The percussion sounds of the loud explosions tortured our ears. The feeling of being attacked seemed real. There were continuing rapid explosions as direct hits shattered our surroundings.
A person could not help but feel fear even though it was only an enactment of war. If we sensed fear, then imagine what a real war-time experience would be like.
In time, the sound of planes began to retreat. The bombing became muffled, then vanished.
As we left the bomb shelter, we walked out into the rest of the museum, and Susan said, “Consider, that in a real war, people would not return in to a museum but rather see their city devastated.”
The fight for freedom has come with such a heavy price and, now, upon each of us lays a heavy burden. We too must be vigilant in defending freedom. Those brave persons must not have died in vain, lest we forget.
Arnold Malone served as MP for Alberta’s Battle River and Crowfoot ridings from 1974 through 1993. He retired to Invermere in 2007.
