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A poppy rests on a cenotaph marking the fallen from the First World War following a Remembrance Day service in Calgary, Sunday, Nov. 11, 2018.Jeff McIntosh/The Canadian Press

Letters to the Editor should be exclusive to The Globe and Mail. Include your name, address and daytime phone number. Try to keep letters to fewer than 150 words. Letters may be edited for length and clarity. To submit a letter by e-mail, click here: letters@globeandmail.com

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100 years later

Re A Century Of Remembrance (Nov. 12): My husband, Ian McLean, was recently given letters that were written by his grandfather, Norman, an officer in the Canadian Armed Forces, to Norman’s brother, Stanley. This particularly poignant one, dated Nov. 11, 1918, stands out. Sadly, Norman’s two children, both boys, went to war (again) some 20 years later. Luckily they, too, survived.

Nancy McLean, Oakville, Ont.

... How quietly we learned that the armistice had been signed at 5 a.m. today; no hilarity, no cheers, but a restrained, almost solemn joy that the fearful world scourge had finally been overthrown. And, in the dim, shadowy, background forming the basis of our joy, a tense, poignant regret over the unnumbered dead. One pictures them in their countless millions lying piled with outstretched arms and beseeching faces ...

To think that this colossal sacrifice may have been made without our now grasping the crucial opportunity of forever preventing its recurrence; if I doubted of some great forward step being taken, I could honestly wish for an unknown grave in France. For, having come through – and, when I think of the thousands of really noble men who have “gone West” I feel that my still being here is an injustice – life seems above else an opportunity to help in the paltry way I can the gradual advance to a saner, humaner World Order. I only trust that I may always retain the fervent ardour toward this goal, which I now feel – an ardour making other aims appear useless and unattractive.

It is with this deep, solemn, sense of responsibility and opportunity that I write you tonight – now that I know that I shall be spared to see you and walk with you again …

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Your Saturday Folio, Portraits Of Sacrifice: Young Canadians On The Brutal Front Lines Of War, did not include any Indigenous people. More than 4,000 status Indian, registered band members enlisted from on-reserve locations. This figure does not capture the many others who were living and working off-reserve.

Canada’s two largely Indigenous formations of the Great War Canadian Expeditionary Force were the 107th “Timber Wolf” Battalion, recruited in and around Winnipeg; and the 114th Battalion, “Brock’s Rangers,” recruited in and around the Six Nations of the Grand River Territory near Brantford, Ont. In each instance, about half of their 800-man strength were First Nations.

The service records of two Six Nations band members in particular are notable: Edith Anderson Monture was living and working as a public-health nurse in New York, where she had trained, when the Americans entered the war in 1917. She served two years in France with the U.S. Army Nurse Corps. It was Indian Act restrictions of her era that had prevented her from obtaining training and pursuing her calling in Canada.

Aviator Lt. James David Moses, also of Six Nations, was reported missing, later confirmed killed in action, on April 1, 1918, the official birth date of the Royal Air Force upon the amalgamation that day of the former Royal Naval Air Service and the Royal Flying Corps. Thus one of the first battle casualties of the famed RAF of later Battle of Britain fame was in fact an Indigenous person from Canada. Lest we forget.

John Moses, Delaware and Upper Mohawk bands, Six Nations of the Grand River Territory

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“I had just shot a person and I felt pride and that scared the hell out of me. I realized human beings don’t do this to each other.” Those were the words of soldier Ted Zuber, whose obituary you published Nov. 10 (Korean War Veteran Became Canada’s Last Official War Artist).

On the 11th, we had the usual outpouring of grief that things like this should happen. At one gathering, In Flanders Fields was read by a cadet – a young man who wants to be a soldier, despite what is going on around him. All over the world, other young men have the same ambition, making the idea of world peace nothing but an illusion. One hundred years on from “the war to end all wars,” it is apparent things will never change.

Dave Ashby, Toronto

‘A new legal framework’

Re A Canadian Imperative (letters, Nov. 12): Prime Minister Justin Trudeau said in the House of Commons on Feb. 14, 2018, that a “new legal framework” must be established for the Indigenous rights of the natives and Métis. Why is Carolyn Bennett, the Minister of Crown-Indigenous Relations, asking questions in her letter to the editor about reconciliation, court reviews, and “constitutional, inherent and treaty rights of Indigenous people”?

To answer her questions Canadians need a copy of the “new legal framework.” Where is it?

Willson McTavish, Mississauga

Less-than-grand bargain

Re Was Trudeau’s ‘Grand Bargain’ Just A Little Too Clever? (Opinion, Nov. 10): For coastal British Columbians, the “grand bargain” has always been a shell game. The issue is not the pipeline but the tankers. The statistically inevitable bitumen spill will destroy our environment and our economy (fisheries, tourism etc.). A carbon tax won’t protect us, and the income won’t help us.

Janet Bavelas,Saanich, B.C.

Pols and their titles

Re Former Tory MP Clement Reveals ‘Acts Of Infidelity’ Exposed Him To Blackmail This Summer (Nov. 9): Canadians are familiar with hearing about “The Honourable” members and “The Right Honourable” members of Parliament. The Tony Clement case shows once again that we need to expand our political honorifics. Perhaps “The Moderately Honourable” and “The Somewhat Honourable?”

Bruce Couchman, Ottawa

Dumber, but happier

Re Dumb, But Happy (Pursuits, Nov. 10): Jake Howell writes about switching from a smartphone to a flip phone. How about no phone?

I am a single dad of two happy, healthy kids, run a nine-person small business, have a healthy social life, and for three years have been dating a smartphone-using millennial who finds it “charming” and “romantic” to receive communications longer than 19 words via e-mail, and actually speaking by phone to make plans.

Sure, I admit to minor inconveniences and occasional bouts of self-shame, but I remain convinced that the peace of mind, the opportunities to be present and in the moment with friends or within myself, and the generally reduced stress levels by choosing to walk down a country road without the information superhighway plugged into a vein in my arm is well worth it.

In the 1960s, everyone smoked. Men smoked, women smoked, teens smoked, and pregnant women smoked. They smoked at home, in the office, while driving, and even in the bathroom. I’m not saying cellphones are cigarettes. I’m just saying we have no idea of what the implications will be – if any – 20 to 30 years from now.

Message to Jake: It’s time for full measures – join the 1980s and ditch the phone altogether.

Will Richards, Montreal

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