Tanks, Planes, Boats, Military Stuff

[old honda rider]

Last summer a buddy of mine and I were doing a short motorcycle tour around our area. Just after 2:00 we were feeling rather peckish and turned into an Arby's to get something (whatever that stuff is) to eat.

As we were pulling into the parking lot, a huge boat of a car pulled behind us. I noticed that he had veteran plates. They look like this:



Entering the restaurant this elderly fellow and us two just got to chatting. I shook his hand and said, "Thank you for your service" or something similar to that. We shook hands and that was pretty much it.

Or so I thought.

We ended up in a booth next to him and we continued our chat. Turns out he was a Canadian tank commander but fighting for the British.

He started by telling us some truly funny stuff. Lots about how difficult the tanks were to see out of, the ungodly smell of diesel fuel and sweaty men.

He was in the first wave of tanks that liberated Bergen-Belsen.

Here we were, sitting at something resembling food, our thoughts off to those countless lost in the mire of German concentration camps. We sat in silence a moment, finished our meals and said our goodbyes.

I have never, ever felt more closely connected to our living history as I was in those few moments. It wasn't at a museum, it wasn't at a Remembrance day ceremony, nor at a historical lecture at a university. It was at, of all things, an Arby's in Brantford, Ontario.