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One would think Jo�l Morin would have grown up a history buff, having an army major for a father who landed on the beaches of France on D-Day.

Not so, says the 54-year-old air traffic control manager from Edmonton, who felt that history lessons were nothing more than a boring exercise in memorizing names and dates and places.

But things changed when he travelled to Europe and had the opportunity to visit the memorials and cemeteries that permeate the landscapes of France and Belgium.

An avid photographer, Morin was so moved by what he saw that he took countless pictures at military cemeteries in Flanders, the Vimy Ridge memorial and the beaches of Normandy, among other sites, and posted them so that history might come alive for family and strangers alike.

"It was so much more powerful seeing it firsthand, and we don't learn about those things here, at least I didn't, growing up," Morin told CTV.ca in a recent telephone interview. "It was just kind of names and dates and obscure kinds of things that didn't resonate. Whereas seeing them firsthand, seeing the people going through the cemeteries, I was quite taken aback that they actually do that."

Dates and the names of long-dead historical figures may have been lost on a young Morin, but the dedication of and sacrifices made by Canada's Second World War veterans were not.

His father, Maj. J.A. Morin joined the military at 17 and became part of a unit that would eventually be known as Le R�giment de la Chaudi�re, which landed in France as part of the second assault wave on D-Day.

During his youth, Morin's family would occasionally visit with other veterans or attend regimental events.

But rather than regale the gathered youngsters with tales of war, the veterans refused to "relive the war publicly," Morin says, instead choosing to suppress the painful memories.

"They didn't respect the events," Morin said. "In fact, they hated war. They said, 'We did this and our hope was for it to never happen again. We're tying to suppress this thing. We want our happy life at home. And this is what we're fighting for. We're not fighting for the French, we're not fighting for the British, we're not fighting for the Belgians or the Dutch. We're fighting for our way of life, we're fighting for our country.'"

Morin's respect for the soldiers is clear and his pictures pay homage not only to those who came home, like his father, but those who did not, like his mother's youngest brother.

Lieut. Mark A. Corbett died when his jeep struck a landmine just two months after he arrived in Normandy.

Morin was able to visit his grave at the Bretteville-sur-Laize Canadian war cemetery in France on one of his trips. But visiting his uncle's final resting place did not just bring him closer to a long-gone family member.

"It also brought me closer to everyone who did go over there," Morin said. "It probably started out as being a family kind of thing. But seeing the numbers, seeing the names, seeing so many 'A soldier of the Great War' headstones, seeing the numbers of people and how young they are, it really became a Canadian experience, as opposed to just a family experience."

What also struck Morin, and what is clear in his photographs, is how well-tended the monuments and cemeteries are.

In particular, Morin was struck by the condition of the Ypres Salient in Flanders, Belgium, the site of a number of First World War battles, including the infamous Battle of Passchendaele, where 300,000 British and Commonwealth soldiers lost their lives.

The Canadians suffered more than 15,000 casualties.

"I'm not a particularly emotional guy, but I was struck by the numbers of young soldiers who lost their lives, how young they were and how many whose resting place is 'known only unto God,'" Morin said in an email.

"I was also struck by the state of the cemeteries. They are impeccable and are cared for very lovingly by the maintenance crews. It's also very impressive to see busload after busload of young European students visiting the graves and learning firsthand about their history. There's no running around or joking as you'd expect from kids that age. They're sombre and respectful. They will remember."

For North Americans whose memories of the war don't include the daily air raid sirens, bombings and cavalries of tanks and troops that marked the experience for so many Europeans, Morin hopes his online galleries "make them think for a few minutes" about the sacrifices made by so many young men, and young women.

And in remembering Canadian contributions to past military campaigns, Morin hopes a sense of pride extends to our troops currently serving in Afghanistan.

"It wasn't excitement. It was pain, it was drudgery, you really had to believe in what you were doing. And then you take that into today's context with what we're trying to do in Afghanistan, and why are we doing it? Is it our core values, is it what it is to be Canadian to say, 'Hey, we want the people there to have a better life, something resembling what we have?'" Morin asks.

"Of course, our cultures are different so their life wouldn't be like ours, but still, the freedom to choose. We have a freedom to choose and where did it come from? It came from our ancestors, our families, going out before to fight for our values. To say, 'Hey, I believe in what I believe, and I want to share that, I think it's important.' And I think that's what they were doing."