Maybe at one time it was considered important and treated with reverence. But for as long as anyone can remember, it's been just another plaque on the wall.

It's prominently displayed in the legislature Press Gallery. And it's utterly ignored.

It commemorates, in grandiose verbiage, the contribution B.C. newspapermen made to the Great War. There are no clues about when it was made. It could be anywhere from 60 to 90 years old.

"Hereunder are inscribed the names of fifty six writers on the Press of British Columbia who hearing their Country's call forsook the pen for the sword and took up arms in defence of the Empire against an unscrupulous foe. Fourteen of them bravely died. Their names are engraved also on the hearts of their comrades who came back."

I studied it with fresh eyes this week. Each enlistee's name is listed with the newspaper he worked for. Old newspaper names hold a certain appeal for me. The Pacific Coast Lumberman, the Vancouver World and the Comox Argus are represented. So are the Portland Canal News and the Point Grey Gazette.

There seems to be an extraordinary number of Nelson News editorial staff represented -- five.

Closer to home, 14 writers from the predecessors to this newspaper, the Victoria Times and the Daily Colonist, also enlisted.

As a group, they didn't fare well. Six died in the war.

The Times of Nov. 30, 1915, told the story of Lt. Frank Coffee.

"Telegraphic advice this morning from his father, Frank Coffee, of Sydney, tells of the death in action in the Dardanelles of Lt. Frank Coffee, of the Australian Expeditionary Force.

"The news will be received with particular sorrow by a large number of intimate friends both in Victoria and Vancouver. The late officer was formerly a member of the editorial staff of the Times and was well known to practically every newspaper man in the province."

Coffee newspapered in the Kootenays prior to his stint in Victoria, then moved to the World in Vancouver. He quit to become the first mayoral secretary in Vancouver, but only lasted six months before returning to newspapers.

He eventually moved back to Australia. When the war started he enlisted as a private, but rose through the ranks until his death at 28.

The local stories of his death seem to have been written by reporters who knew him.

"Of a sunny, philosophical disposition, generous and open-hearted, he made friends wherever he went," noted the Province.

Coffee's life is recounted on a Gallipoli memorial website at www.anzacs.org. There are no details of his B.C. experience, so I forwarded the obits kindly dug up by the Legislature Library off to the Aussie webmaster, who was pleased to get them.

Another series of clippings tells a story repeated countless times in local newspapers across the country during the wars.

The Colonist was pleased to note in July 1917 that its former "sporting editor," Frank Dunn, had been granted a commission. He'd left on active service with the B.C. Hospitals Unit.

The paper offered more details in August. Dunn, son of Victoria Times editor Robert Dunn, had become an officer with the Durham Light Infantry.

In September he was reported to be in France.

Two weeks later he was dead. He met his death "while gallantly leading a patrol over No Man's Land into the enemy trenches," according to the Times.

His commanding officer wrote a "regret to inform you" letter to Dunn's father on Stannard Avenue in Fairfield. (Coincidentally, I used to live practically next door.) "He was hit by a shell which hit the parapet of the trench and he was killed, I believe, practically instantaneously."

The stories of Dunn and Coffee -- close to home as they are -- raise the question that faces post-war generations every year at this time: What would I have done in their circumstances?

Would I have done the right thing?

What was the right thing?

It's hard to project old causes onto modern situations.

But every Remembrance Day, I conclude again that those old boys standing at the cenotaph this morning set an example for us all, for all time.

lleyne@tc.canwest.com