Congratulations to the 2018-2019 BC/Yukon Poster and Literary Contest Winners!
BC/Yukon students created fantastic posters, essays and poems that express what Remembrance means to them and their country.
Click here for the complete list of 2018 Provincial Poster and Literary Contest Winners.
Chengyun (Melody) Xu - West Point Grey, Vancouver
First Place Senior Black and White Poster Winner
Linda He - White Rock
First Place Senior Colour Poster Winner
Sierrah Borjeau - Cowichan
First Place Intermediate Black and White Poster Winner
Quintus Zhou - Surrey
First Place Intermediate Colour Poster Winner
Alaina Kolkert - Fort St. John
First Place Junior Black and White Poster Winner
Yelena Domingo - Richmond
First Place Junior Colour Poster Winner
Crystal Tiedmann - Fort St. John
First Place Primary Black and White Poster Winner
Belinda Mou - Prince George
First Place Primary Colour Poster Winner
Shula McColl - Clinton
First Place Senior Poetry Winner
The Invisible War
Not in control of my own emotion
My mind's consumed with terrible notions
Love and Laughter hurt and pain
All of these drive me insane
Doctor after doctor pill after pill
None of this makes my mind tranquil
Each and every breath I take
I pray for this curse to break
My torment was caused by my own volition
Leaving me in this terrible condition
I could have simply said I won't go
I could have told the recruiter hell no!
But I swore an oath and took a test
I earned the uniform of the best
I worked hard to serve my country
And all I'm left with is distress
Some escape without a scratch or scar
As for me my mind was stretched too far
Now I'm considered one of them
A causality of war trapped within
Friends are now so hard to find
As people think I've lost my mind
Many sights, smells and sounds I hear
That trigger things that cause me fear
My dreams are filled with where I've been
From the nightmare that I once lived in
Amy Fuchs - Mt.Arrowsmith
First Place Intermediate Poetry Winner
The bugle cries,
Awake once more
Coins bounce off beds, footlocker hinges sigh
Polished boots march towards the mess,
Our hopes are high.
We eat together, powdered milk and eggs,
Fears muted by coffee and smiles.
Air raid sirens call our names,
Goggles on, we take our stand.
Down the runway, into the air,
We face our fears,
To defend our land.
Through day and restless night,
We sacrifice our lives for what is right.
For family, friends, and strangers alike.
We left our lives; thrown into fight.
Home at last, We are the brave.
Families thank us, hearts aglow,
Still, we can't forget,
Souls forever etched in sorrow.
We ask for naught
Brooklynn Kinnear - West Vancouver
First Place Junior Poetry Winner
The memories of the loved ones, we lost,
For the freedom we have, had a cost.
Down in the dirt and up in the air,
Piercing sounds of the guns looming scare.
The memory of the loved ones we treasure
For life, by the graves and the crosses
I Stand through the night.
The memory of the loved ones, that gave their lives
So we can live ours, remember them.
Sarah Haeussler - Prince George
First Place Senior Essay Winner
A Messenger's Past
Every inch of Owen's body was wet. The inside of his boots felt like they were swimming in filthy trench water. Not only did he have the uncomfortable feeling of clammy dampness, but the heavy drops that fell from the sky only made it worse. It was the kind of rain that is so loud you can't even hear your own heart beat. The kind of rain where every drop feels like a bucket has been dumped onto your head. The kind of rain that makes you feel like your the only person in the world and it's just you and rain that is falling from the sky. But that wasn't just an ordinary day. That day was the day the war was over. Owen just stood there in the rain thinking of all he had lost. Owen was a messenger in the trenches. He thought of the time he came back and had to tell them his best friend had died. Watching countless fellow soldiers die by his side. Countless months in the trenches never quite feeling dry. The days he thought nothing good could come of this.
But, then the good part of his job came. The part that made it all worth it. The day he got the message they had taken over Vimy Ridge and Passchendaele. The day he learned they had won the battle of Amiens and Somme. The days they made it out alive. Those were the days he would try to hold onto. But, he would never forget those who had fought beside him, if they had made it or not. Owen took a deep breath through the crisp November air. He couldn't really believe that the war was really over. He could once again see his family. The thought really filled him with pure joy. As the sun started to set in the evening of November 11th 1918 he thought to himself how blessed he was to have made it out alive.
Ten years later Owen and his 16 year old daughter Bethany walk to the Remembrance day service. They found two empty seats. He reached across the back of the chair and gave Bethany's shoulder a squeeze. She leaned over and whispered in his ear, "If you had the choice not to go to war. would you?". Owen thought for a long moment. He had survived the war, but had lost many friends along the way. They had been low on money for so long he had lost about twenty pounds. Finally his wife had died about a week after he came back. But then he looked around at all the people in the room, a flower on their hearts.
The room was silent. Because at this moment it was the eleventh day, month, and hour. He looked over at Bethany's long curly blond hair and then at everyone. As they all bathed in the silence. They all came even though they had not experienced everything that he has lost. When the minute was up Owen whispered in the most sincere voice he could muster
"I wouldn't have it any other way".
Foot, Richard. Five Major Canadian Battles of the First World War. 29 May 2014. http://ww1.canada.com/battlefront/five-major-canadian-battles-of-the-first-world-war.14 October 2018.
Lyra Fletcher - Port McNeil
First Place Intermediate Essay Winner
I Will Always Remember
Deafening roars, and earth shattering explosions echo through the air, pulsing. All around me the screams of my fellow comrades pierce through the deafening thunder of war. Something explodes just to my left, instinctively sending me rolling away, coating my body in the thick sludge of debris and mud littering the battleground. Rising from a crouch, I look up to survey the area. Explosions rock the earth beneath my feet, and trenches run lines throughout the field. Despair, and depression hang thickly in the air as this war, seeming so pointless now, lives to wreak havoc yet another long day. Then as if in slow motion, a small black orb rolls to a stop at my feet. The slow tick tick screams loudly in comparison to the now muffled battle field. With wide eyes I turn to run.
Barely suppressing a scream, I sit bolt upright, breathing laboured and heavy. Frantically I look around, kicking off the sweat drenched sheets, and trying desperately to make out my attacker in the dark. Slapping the night stand I find my glasses and slip them on, seeing my surroundings with calming clarity. I am home. I am lying in my bed, my wife soundly sleeping beside me, with the moon shining brightly in the cold night air outside. It was just a nightmare. Though it is a nightmare that I have had every single night since the day I was discharged, nearly sixty years ago, it was especially bad tonight however.
There are somethings in life that you never forget. Sometimes things do not just "go away with time." Not a day goes by that l do not remember the four years I spent in that long war, in which so many, too many of my friends did not return home from. Even the ones that did were never the same, I suppose I was not either. Despite how much I hate it, how much I loathe it, the time I spent away in Europe has shaped my life severely, and I remember that now as the click and scrape of my prosthetic leg rings throughout the room.
As quietly as I possibly can I make my way to the sliding glass doors on the other side of the room, slipping through onto the snow covered porch. Breathing in the crisp November air, and looking at the cloudless sky calms, brings me back to reality. I know that my nightmare was not real, but at the same time, it was. Those same screams had rung my ears before, and that same black orb had rolled to my feet, only it was nearly six decades ago, but to me it was happening all over again.
Quietly, so that I do not hear, a warm shape comes and presses into my side, wrapping a comforting arm around my waist. Leaning into that touch helps me to remember that I am home, that I am safe, and most importantly, that I'm not alone.
Neveah Blacksmith - Ladysmith
First Place Junior Essay Winner
Why We Remember
In 1939, my great Grandpa Frank went to fight in a war. The war that he fought in was World War Two. He went to war with his brother. I don't know his brother's name because my grandpa will never talk about him. I think my grandpa never talks about him because he is sad about it or he just forgot because he is getting old.
Whenever I see Grandpa Frank, I remember that he does not want to talk about his brother, so I just don't ask. I don't see my grandpa very often so when I do, I make sure to respect him and that he has been through a lot in his life, so I make sure to not talk about it.
Sometimes I wonder what a world war was like, but I wonder a lot of things. I also wonder what would happen if nobody would remember what happened or who fought for us.
My grandpa Frank is now 92-93 years old and he still lives in the town, somewhere. I have not seen him for at least 2-3 years now, which is a long time. I still want to know what happened to Grandpa's brother that made him not want to talk about him at all. My Grandpa's full name is Frank. J. Sam and I do not know what the J stands for.
Now I finally know why we remember.
We remember because the people that went to war, sacrificed their lives for us to have freedom, to have peace, and to have the right to do things we would like to do. Some people have no choice about their lives or what they want their lives to be like. We should all show respect to those who gave their lives just so their families can have one too. We should always remember, not just to respect them, but to say thank you for all they've done for us.
Let me ask you a question, Would you have done the same?