Wednesday, 11 November 2015

Remembrance Day

My father was born during WWII.  He and my mom told us so many stories about growing up in the mountains in the Philippines.  It didn't click in till we were older that they were only in the mountains to escape the war.  Their hometown of Atimonan was invaded by the Japanese the year my father was born.  It was a port town, an entry point.  It was burned down during the war, with all city records, including birth certificates.

My grandfather on my father's side fought and died during WWII during what has come to be known as the Bataan Death March.  I was born 40 years later in Toronto, Ontario, Canada.

The destruction of the records made it almost impossible for anyone from that town to emigrate to Canada.  My mom and dad did, but no other member of our family was able to join them.

Since that time, Japan has issued an apology to the Americans for their losses.  I don't think they did the same for the Filipino POWs who lost their lives in that death march.

When I think of Remembrance Day, I think of this.


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