“They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them”
Eighty years after the end of the Second World War, those words, written 111 years ago, carry a greater weight than ever before. Over one thousand Hamiltonians gathered on Sunday, and again thousands on Tuesday, for the first Remembrance Day without any living World War II veterans remaining among the ranks of our famed infantry regiments.
Major (retired) Mike Rehill opened this year’s commemoration by noting the passing of Gerald (Gerry) Wagner, the last known WWII veteran of the Royal Hamilton Light Infantry, and Tony Mastromatteo, the last known WWII veteran of The Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders of Canada.
I grew up in the late 1980s and 1990s, a time when tens of thousands of World War I and II veterans still lived in Hamilton. Veterans’ Halls dotted the city, many dedicated to specific affiliations. I particularly recall the National Steel Car Veterans Hall on Kenilworth Avenue North. As those veterans aged and passed on, the number of Veterans’ Halls slowly diminished.
[At one time, there was the Firestone company association, the Glassworkers vets, the Hamilton Naval Veterans Association, and more. The City of Hamilton continues to grant the remaining Legions and associations full property tax exemption.]
Most recently, the Royal Hamilton Light Infantry Association closed its hall on Barton Street East. In an act of true community service befitting those who built it, the Association sold the hall to Kiwanis Non-Profit Homes in a below-market transaction.
As each year passes, I better understand why the strongest men I knew growing up, those veterans of the Second World War and Korean War, weep on Remembrance Day.
“They shall not grow old, age shall not weary them.”
Each year, those words carry greater weight for me, as I remember the fallen soldiers I personally knew as they were. They remain frozen in their early 20s, watching Jeopardy! every night in the junior ranks’ mess, making jokes, and full of life. I look at their comrades-in-arms today—married with children, taking in all the blessings of the freedoms their sacrifices earned. I weep with them for what could have been.
Today’s veterans are following directly in the footsteps of those who marched before them. They, as brave and willing to serve as the Greatest Generation was, are carrying their own heavy mental and physical tolls. They are mourning their comrades-in-arms, counting their own blessings, and trying to make sense of the true senselessness of war and the enduring necessity of defending our freedoms.
I look at the men and women I know who served in Afghanistan: the one who only began wearing his medals on the day in 2014 that Hamiltonians mourned the death of The Argyll killed standing guard at the National War Memorial; another, our most decorated Afghanistan veteran, who marched with others this year. I see them continuing the traditions of remembrance we’ve inherited, and how they weep.
“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.”
Much as those who fought in Flanders Fields passed the torch to those who fought at Normandy, they have now passed the torch to us. We continue to hold it high.
We will remember them.
“They died for peace. Let us live for it.” – Cenotaph inscription, Mahone Bay, Nova Scotia
Production Details
v. 1.0.0
Published: November 11, 2025
Last updated: November 11, 2025
Author: Joey Coleman
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v. 1.0.0 original version