Harold "Dutch" Percy Pammett — Lest We Forget

This morning, on Remembrance Day, I'm thinking of my Dad, Harold "Dutch" Percy Pammett, because it was on this day in 1981 that he passed away — on the golf course, living the life that he always wanted to live. Little did I know, at the young age of 61 (I was 30), that for him it was a blessing because he never had to suffer or grow old. For me, the reality was that other than my uncle Gord Pammett... Nov 11, 1981 left me at the root of the Pammett family tree.

Harold "Dutch" Percy Pammett grew up in Peterborough, Ontario, Canada. And by some quirk of 25-cent photography, my Mom kept this picture of Dad close to her heart for 40 years. This treasure of a picture was taken by my Mom when "Harold" took her out canoeing, at the young age of 17 — just shortly before Dad served in the Canadian Navy during World War II. He served for 6 long years, keeping the engines running on Destroyers such as The Restigouche, and married Jean Audrey (Carter) Hickey as soon as he got back from liberating Europe.

But we didn't hear very much about the war growing up in Southern Ontario; Dad's mind's eye was always more forward-looking than watching over his shoulder. Dad wanted us kids to grow up, attend university, and live the good life because he never made it beyond the 10^th grade. Those were the tough years when common sense and the work ethic prevailed.

Click to activate the YouTube player and then click the "Play" button... It's A Pittance of Time They fought and some died for their homeland, They fought and some died now it's our land. Look at his little child, there's no fear in her eyes. Could he not show respect for other Dads who have died? Take two minutes — would you mind? — it's a pittance of time. For the boys and the girls who went over. In peace may they rest; may we never forget why they died. It's A Pittance of Time. God forgive me for wanting to strike him. Give me strength so as not to be like him. My heart pounds in my breast, fingers pressed to my lips. My throat wants to ball out. My tongue barely resists. But two minutes I will bide; it's a Pittance of time. For the boys and the girls who went over. In peace may they rest may we never forget why they died. It's A Pittance of Time. Read the letters and poems of the heroes at home. They have casualties, battles, and fears of their own. There's a price to be paid if you go if you stay. Freedom's fought for and won in numerous ways. Take two minutes — would you mind? — it's a pittance of time. For the boys and the girls all over. May we never forget our young ... become vets at the end of the line. It's A Pittance of Time. It takes courage to fight in your own war. It takes courage to fight someone else's war. Our peace-keepers tell of their own living hell. They bring hope to foreign lands that hate mongers can't kill. Take two minutes — would you mind? — it's a pittance of time. For the boys and the girls who go over. In peace time our best still don battle dress and lay their lives on the line. It's A Pittance of Time. In peace may they rest; Lest we forget why they died. Take A Pittance of Time.

Enjoy the song, provided gratis via YouTube — http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2kX_3y3u5Uo — by Terry Kelly.

Today I — together with my brother John Hickey, and my sisters Nanci Phelan and Gaye... all remember our Dad with fond memories, love and respect. And we give thanks for the many years that he brought us his support, his security, and his love. "Thank you, Dad!"