KANDAHAR, Afghanistan - The cenotaph will be freshly polished and surrounded by soldiers in immaculate army dress. The ceremony will be sombre but touching. And when it is over, the war will resume.
But for Canadian soldiers in Afghanistan, and increasingly for the rest of the country as well, Remembrance Day does not end as that minute of silence expires on Nov. 11.
As several troops here have said: "Every day is Remembrance Day."
In this war, as in wars past, soldiers are constantly developing new ways of remembering their fallen comrades. Many simply don't have the luxury of waiting for the appointed day.
Graffiti litters the walls of many a Canadian combat outpost. Look closely and it's not hard to find "R.I.P." followed by a spate of names and a rotation number.
Asked about the meaning of Remembrance Day, one soldier simply rolled up a sleeve to reveal a tattoo the length of his forearm: a half-dozen poppies, each for a friend killed in action, intertwined with the words "We Remember."
But in a country littered by the remnants of war, the act of remembrance is often accidental.
As the head of a unit of Afghan army mentors, Capt. Pete Reintjes frequently patrols the narrow, dusty streets of the village of Nakhonay in the restive Panjwaii district. When he rounds one particular corner, it is hard not to think about Aug. 22.
"I'll always remember that corner taking the life of one of the guys I lived with for 22 days," Reintjes says.
That guy is Cpl. Brian Pinksen, whose section of Bravo Company was based with Reintjes' ANA mentors in Nakhonay during the summer. Reintjes was just metres away when Pinksen was struck by shrapnel from an IED blast. He died of his injuries the following week.
"When I was laughing and joking with him, I never realized that I would be calling his vital signs on the radio an hour later," Reintjes says.
"So that's Remembrance Day. That's remembering."
It is perhaps the fate of a nation at war that the act of remembrance can no longer be contained to one day a year.
Back in Canada, the Red Fridays movement -- an ongoing cross-country campaign founded by Lisa Miller and Karen Boire, two military wives from Petawawa, Ont., -- urges people to don red clothing on the last day of the work week as a way to pay tribute to the men and women of the Canadian Forces.
Red is also a common colour whenever the remains of slain Canadian soldiers are repatriated at CFB Trenton, east of Toronto.
The stretch of Hwy. 401 between Trenton and Toronto, which has been officially christened the "Highway of Heroes," has frequently borne witness to moving scenes of support and solidarity, said Brian Muntz, who has organized similar -- but unaffiliated -- tributes of his own along the route.
Muntz says the images of flag-waving Canadians lining the highway during repatriation ceremonies have done much to unite different generations touched by different wars.
"Having the highway renamed, and being on the bridges during a repatriation -- I think that, in collaboration of all those events together, will be a single memory that everybody will remember from this mission after it closes."
The "Highway of Heroes" has already inspired musical tributes that have found receptive audiences across the country.
An eponymous song by Toronto's Bob Reid climbed to the top of the Canadian singles chart last Christmas and spent months in the top 20. Another song of the same name by indie darlings The Trews currently sits in the top 10.
Reid said the outpouring of support for the military inspired him to try and immortalize what he describes as a uniquely Canadian approach to commemoration.
"It's un-orchestrated, it's authentic, it's understated, but as a result, I think, way more powerful than any scheduled or mandated display could ever be," Reid says.
"We're not a flag-waving people by nature, but we put that normally shy patriotism on full display when one of our fallen comes home.
"I'm sure that is a tradition now that will continue on into the future."
The year-round appreciation of tribute songs makes it likely that they will figure into future Remembrance Day ceremonies, adds Reid, noting that several schools have already sought his permission to use his composition in their classrooms on Nov. 11.
Remembrance Day ceremonies will only grow in importance once the Afghan mission is over, says Randy Young, president of an advocacy group called Friends of Veterans. More Canadians have been visiting cenotaphs or taking part in Nov. 11 ceremonies across the country in recent years, he says.
"You know, before when there'd be 100 or 150, now there's a thousand," Young says. "So I think that's one of the more enduring images in my understanding of the day."
Boir agrees, saying the war in Afghanistan has galvanized support for the military that will endure long after the mission has concluded.
A generation of Canadians has been forced to grow up with a heightened awareness of the horrors of war, she said, adding that such knowledge will bolster efforts to commemorate veterans year-round.
Boir said she and Miller are personally dedicated to ensuring that Red Fridays continue to thrive beyond the end of the Afghan mission.
"We're certainly not going to let it die. We will definitely push as hard as we can to keep it up. Whether they're home, wherever they are, they always need the support, their families always need the support, and we will most definitely continue to make sure people know that."
As important as such communal acts of remembrance may be for a country at war, however, formal ceremonies are ill-suited to the hurly burly of the war zone itself.
Only a fraction of the 2,800 troops in theatre will be able to attend the service at Kandahar Airfield. Most, especially those outside the wire, will struggle to find the time to stage anything more elaborate than a minute of silence.
Reintjes points out that both his birthday and Thanksgiving went by unnoticed.
"So I think Remembrance Day will come and go," he says. "We probably won't know too much unless they call us and say there is a parade."
That makes the untold other Remembrance Days all that more important; those quiet thoughts stolen between patrols, the inadvertent glimpse of a tattoo or line of graffiti.
War, after all, is relentless. It doesn't stop to remember its dead. Not even for a minute.
-- With additional reporting by Michelle McQuigge in Toronto.
