The charity that I am endorsing is the Jewish War Veterans Memorial. This project, after years of discussion, was finally approved after the City of Toronto agreed to provide land in Earl Bales Park for a Canadian first; a memorial to Jewish war veterans the world over. The structure is to be designed by the same architect who was involved in the redevelopment of the World Trade Center site. A Wall of Remembrance will be inscribed with the names of Jewish War Veterans from all around the world, including the names of the 16,000 Jews who served in World War II. Apart from relying on one major benefactor, the war veterans of Canada are poised to begin a public campaign to raise the $5 million needed to construct the memorial. The structure will be a living memorial, a place people can go on Remembrance Day and for educational programs.

The reason this memorial is so important to me, is my personal connection to it. My great uncle, Max Sucharov, was conscripted to go overseas in 1943, in the RCAF. He was killed in a plane crash in December of 1944, flying over France. Here is his story: The plane he was flying in began to experience icing problems en route to its bombing target. The pilot ordered the other crew members to evacuate, using their parachutes. One of the crew was afraid to jump, so my uncle took him down on his parachute. Unfortunately, the weight of both bodies was too great, and both men perished in the fall. The pilot was able to land the plane safely and tell his story. I have seen a copy of the original typed letter to my great grandmother advising her of her son’s death, and would like to quote the following from it. “May I now express my own deep sympathy and that of all the Squadron in your irreparable loss. Your son had made many friends with whom he was very popular. I know we will miss him badly. His constant cheerfulness, willingness, and obvious ability had endeared him to us all. He was a very valuable member of the Squadron. We all highly honor the gallant sacrifice your son has made so far from home in the service of his country and democracy.”

My uncle was only in his early twenties when he died, never able to return home to Winnipeg, to his fiancé, the rest of his family and his planned university education. My mother remembers his bicycle, stored on the porch of her parent’s house, waiting for his eventual return, a return that never occurred. My uncle is buried in France, and I hope one day to visit his gravesite in the Canadian War Cemetery near Paris.

I think that it is important to keep these stories alive, so that other Canadians will not forget who lived and died protecting us and keep us safe from harm. As this generation of war veterans dwindles, it will be up to us to keep their memories alive and their stories told.
— Sharon Walder