It's too late for Europe (and for that I sincerely apologise), but it will soon be 11am throughout North America. Despite what any one person may think about warfare, or any particular war in general (and trust me, I'm not pro-war by any means), the simple fact is that men and women have died in the line of duty within our lifetimes. This same theme links us very directly to the "games we play" on EB, the confused and tragic struggle of man to both defeat and accept himself. The wondrous complexity of EB allows us to "role-play" our factions, and to feel a hint of what it really must be like to struggle for one's very existence. This powerful pathos is, directly or indirectly, a major part of EB's motivation and appeal.

This simple fact is sobering, and beyond the depth of thought and heated debates it may spark, it is a simple and profound act to offer our thoughts and sympathies to those who have passed on, or who have otherwise sacrificed themselves in the hopes that we all may live a better life.

And to those of you who might currently be in dangerous areas or situations, friend or foe, we are thinking of you, and we will always remember.

Further, I invite you all to post your inspiring war stories, favourite war movies, or other thoughts on this hopeful but melancholy day, whether your nation follows the holiday or not. I would consider it a personal favour to you all if this thread were to remain staid and solemn, although I'm in no real position to demand anything.

I have a glass of gin in hand (one of the many gifts the Brits shared with us Canadians during the World Wars), and I have three films ready to watch: The Dirty Dozen, The Devil's Brigade, and the History Channel's special on the Raid on Dieppe.

As a Canadian, I feel compelled to post the National Poem of Remebrance Day, "In Flanders Fields" by John McRae:


In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

— Lt.-Col. John McCrae


To all the men who came before us.

*drinks his gin*

-Glee