There’s a cenotaph that stands on the land of your Cree nation. On the plaque is a list of names of those who died fighting for the Canadian military. I saw your name along with my last name on the plaque. I have never met you, but I know you are the brother of my grandfather and you served during the Second World War. I don’t know much about you, as you were only 19 when you died. But I thought I would write you this letter to let you know your sacrifice is not forgotten, and all you fought for is now a reality in your home community.

The memorial is made of granite with a beautiful hand-carved eagle on top. It overlooks the high banks of a lake, the same lake where you probably used to swim when you were a boy. Every Remembrance Day, people from the community, many of us your direct descendants, gather to say a prayer and to give homage for all that you, and those others listed, have given us.

You were just a young man when you died, but you gave us more than we can be thankful for. In your short life, you gave us freedom. When you went to war, you weren’t allowed to vote. Indeed, you weren’t even considered a person by the country you defended. But you must have known some day your descendants would have those rights if you went and fought.

Today, the Cree Nation and all other nations guided by the Great Spirit, are able to explore their full potential and fulfill ambitions. Yes, there are still struggles and personal demons to be fought. However, that is nothing compared to what you must have endured in your short life.

The Cree Nation is still alive and we are getting stronger. Our young people are now graduating in law, medicine and the sciences. This was impossible for you. Do know you made that possible for many, including your own direct relatives? In your own community, we now celebrate with an annual traditional pow-wow. Even this was illegal when you enlisted, because Indians were not allowed to gather.

Today, we not only gather but we invite all nations to come and join us to sing and dance in the traditions of your forefathers. You would be proud of your bloodline when they dance with their heads held high and sing songs from their hearts. You made all this possible. You would also be proud of your home community. Many endured hardships which are sometimes reflected in today’s youth. But throughout it all, we persevered and persisted.

The residential school is now closed and has been destroyed. We now have our own school with everything that was not there for you. We even have an indoor hockey rink. You probably skated on the ice covering the frozen lake. I have to include one of the most popular winter events in your home territory is an annual duck-pond hockey tournament. Families, friends and neighbours clear off a duck pond and hold an all day and night hockey tournament. And it’s all for fun. As you now sit with the council of our ancestors, that laughter you hear is because you made it happen.

This Remembrance Day we will once again gather. We will give thanks to you and your fallen brethren. We will host a feast, ensuring we leave a plate for you. Seven members from the land you defended will fire three shots from their rifles. The 21-gun salute is for your service. Many times when I go for a walk along the lake, I will come by the cenotaph with your name and my last name. Gently I will place my hand over your name and think about your incredible strength and courage, and what you sacrificed for us.

Thank you, Moosume Alfred.

– Ken Noskye