(warning for those on dial-up. This diary will be relatively image heavy).
Confession.
I don't do ribbons. Red, white, yellow, pink, purple, or plaid. AIDS, cancer(s), peace, solidarity, no matter what the cause. I just don't do ribbons. I didn't say that I haven't contributed time and money to the causes behind the ribbon campaigns. I have, and do. I just don't have the need or compulsion to 'validate' my contribution to people I barely or don't know. I'm also sceptical of the real 'contribution' of many people who do wear these ribbons. Yeah, some of them are simply attempting to validate their own bona fides, deserved or not.
I do, however, do poppies every November. No need to review and examine the significance of that small gesture. I assume that our readership is comprised of rational, sentient people who know some history.
Second confession.
I am a pacifist. No, really, I am. But that's not the confession. Despite that professed view I can envision circumstances and situations where I might feel compelled to take up arms. Iraq and Afghanistan are emphatically not those circumstances and situations, but there are others I can imagine. To think otherwise would require that I turn my back on 350 years of family history on this oft frozen soil. I may come from a 'vieille souche' family, but it is one that has always felt a strong connection to this country even through that little episode where some of my forebears were ethnically cleansed. Despite 35 or so years in exile they still found their way back here because this land defined them. It defines me. This is who we are, this is where we belong.
The first line of O Canada? "Our home and native land". The first line of the French lyrics, originally written as a French-Canadian patriotic song, reads "terre de nos aieux" - land of our ancestors. Although we aren't the original inhabitants the connection between the land, people and history is unshakable.
Like most 'vieille souche' families we currently have ardent Quebec nationalists. But we also have a streak of strong, fervent support for Canadian, not just Quebec, nationalism that is a mile wide, and a mile deep.
I share and continue that heritage. Many of my forebears from both my father and mother's side of the family tree have answered Canada's call over the centuries, never more so than during World War II. It's a defining era for both my mom and dad. In short, both of my parents were left fatherless from that conflict. My dad last saw his own father when he was 6-years old. He was gone just before my dad turned 10 years of age. My mom was twelve when her own father passed. Those are losses that have shaped and informed the rest of their lives. It's part of why I can't forget and always remember. Je me souviens.
Of the many family members who served, I would like you to meet three of them.
That's a picture of a proud father with two of his three children, circa 1942. My mom's dad, her only brother, and older sister. Two of the three never returned. They were, from left to right, RCAF, Canadian Army (Van Doo), and CWAC. Although I don't know for certain, quite possibly the last time the three of them were together.
hat's my grandpa in mufti between the wars. The Colonel. Career military. Interesting for me to see that photo. Here he would be about 6 or 7 years younger than I am presently, but he looks to be about a decade older than his actual age. He had already been to hell and back.
That image also explains a few other things to me. Even though many people have commented IRL that I closely resemble my father I actually look more like the man in that photo. I look more like him than his own children. I'm the dark-haired, brown-eyed, dark-featured pebble in a family sea of blue-eyed blondes and redheads.
Grandpa was already a member of a Quebec City-based reserve militia prior to World War 1 while apprenticing as a commercial printer. When war was declared in Europe he volunteered for regular service. There were many political controversies at that time regarding French-Canadians in service. Without rehashing the issues of the time, many of them with racial overtones, despite having enlisted in 1914 and his desire to get overseas as soon as possible, he was not shipped over to Europe until 1917. Arrived just in time to join with the other members of the Royal 22e Régiment already there for the Canadian assault on Vimy Ridge.
Vimy Ridge was the least of it. As I mentioned above, he had been 'to hell and back'. Grandpa was also at the Third Battle of Ypres (Ieper) more commonly known as Passchendaele.
I have no idea what he witnessed and experienced there. My mother and my aunt never knew either. My grandmother never discussed it, and I don't know if he ever shared those experiences with my grandmother. What we do know is that he came back to Post-war Canada emotionally broken. Today we know this as PTSD. Plus ça change...
Still, he remained in the military for the rest of his life eventually reaching the rank of Colonel, and returned to full active duty at the age of 44 when war was declared again in 1939.
He passed away in March of 1944, and was interred in Quebec City in April of 1944.
Those are 6 of about two dozen photos I have of grandpa's funeral cortège and interment in Quebec City. They are from a photo book which belonged to my mom's cousin Jean-Yves. Jean-Yves' mother Eudora and my grandmother were sisters. Jean-Yves is also a WWII veteran. He passed this photo album to my mom in 2000, and is now in my possession. That (2000) was also the first time I had ever seen these photos, first time I actually fully understood the significance of his rank and his service. The band is the regimental band of the R22eR, and while no doubt there were dirges played I also have to assume that they also played 'Vive La Canadienne', the R22eR regimental march.
See this young curly-haired cutie-pie?
That's the Colonel's only son, my mom's only brother, my Uncle 'Frank'. I was named for him. The photo would be from flight training. He's about 18 or 19 years-old here. Dad may have been Army but young Uncle 'Frank' wanted to fly. After training he was assigned to the RCAF's 416 'City of Oshawa' Squadron with the rank of s/p (sergeant/pilot). Ad Saltum Paratus.
The 416 was based in Scotland and England and achieved battle honours in Defence of Britain 1942-44, Arnhem Fortress Europe 1942-44, English Channel and North Sea 1943, Dieppe Normandy Rhine France and Germany 1944-45. Uncle 'Frank' flew Spitfires in 1942-1944.
Some of the 416 Squadron in Scotland 1942, Uncle 'Frank' top row at far right.
And in Surrey, England 1944, Uncle 'Frank' top row, far left.
Uncle 'Frank' received his officer's commission, as o/p (officer/pilot) on June 5, 1944. Does that date sound significant? Possibly. That would be one day prior to the launch of Operation Overlord.
Sometime in mid-June of 1944 my grandmother received a visit from some officials. Uh-huh, dreadful news. Reported that Uncle 'Frank' had been shot down over Normandy on June 8, 1944, was missing and presumed dead. He was 21.
I can't imagine how this was received. First, her husband in March of 1944, now her only son three months later (one of her brothers was also taken a month later).
There is more, however, to that story. Information that we did not learn until 1999. Cousin Jean-Yves also figures in that story.
My grandmother and mother had always held out hope that Uncle 'Frank's' body had been found and buried somewhere unknown to them. A chance meeting between cousin Jean-Yves and a British serviceman in Varadero, Cuba in 1998 unravelled the mystery. The two veterans exchanged war stories during their Cuban vacation and the British veteran promised to look into the matter of Uncle 'Frank's' status.
Jean-Yves received a letter from England almost a year later. As it turned Uncle 'Frank' was not shot down on June 8th. That was a just a cover story as the truth had been 'classified'. His Spitfire was hit near the mouth of the Seine, not far from Sword Beach, on D-Day (June 6th). American soldiers on that beach had witnessed the incident. Uncle Frank had bailed out and was killed as he attempted to parachute to safety. His body was hurriedly buried on the beach by American soldiers, but never recovered post Normandy operations. His name appears on the Runnymeade War Memorial just outside Windsor, England. I have copies of the correspondence and documentation forwarded from Jean-Yves.
The third story is fortunately much happier.
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My mom's sister, who had already performed in the Montreal area live and on radio as a big band singer, followed her father and brother into service by enlisting in the CWACs and was assigned to the Canadian Army Show (she's named in that last link).
Wayne & Shuster
At first a musical revue produced during World War II for the Canadian army, and later the operational name for entertainment units serving with the army. Through the perseverance of Brig James Mess, the Dept of National Defence sanctioned the creation of a radio series produced in Montreal by Rai Purdy and known generally as the 'Canadian Army Radio Show'. It was broadcast weekly by the CBC from 13 Dec 1942 until 5 Sep 1943.
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Work on the touring show began during the winter of 1943 in Toronto. Wayne and Shuster wrote most of the skits, lyrics and music, the last in collaboration with Robert Farnon who, as music director, was responsible for all arrangements and orchestrations.
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five units reached England 21 Dec 1943 and there became part of the Canadian Auxiliary Services Entertainment Unit, with Rai Purdy as commanding officer. The units also were subdivided into small concert parties which could perform in hospitals. Tony Bradan, music director for all units, recruited additional musicians and provided arrangements. Stationed first at Aldershot and then at Guildford, these units entertained the troops throughout Britain and, after the 1944 Allied invasion of western Europe, at the front lines in Holland, France, Belgium, and Germany. (Unit B, with Eddie Sanborn as music director, had already been assigned to duty in Italy after the Allied invasion of that country in November 1943.)
This is my Aunt in a production shot from 'The Army Show'.
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She did have the opportunity to see her brother while in England. I have old newspaper clippings that mention the meeting. Actually, I have her entire scrapbok of WWII memories and memorabilia. She was performing in England when the deaths of her father, brother and uncle were reported. Service being what it is she was not able to attend her father's funerals and had to 'soldier on' with entertaining troops in England and later on the continent after the Normandy Invasion. She remained with The army Show through 1947.
(She's at top, far left)
But her service did not end there. In memory and respect of her departed relatives she remained in the CWACs through 1950 with post-war postings in Montreal and later Goose Bay, Labrador. It was there at the joint Canada/US air base in Labrador that she met, and later married, an American airman and eventually relocated to his hometown of Queens, NY.
She took post-service employment with the now defunct TWA (Trans-World Airlines) in the role of a 'Mary Gordon'.
What was a 'Mary Gordon'? This obit, not my aunt btw, explains:
''Mary Gordon,'' a name given to account executives who promoted the airline by appearing before women's organizations.
Mary Gordon's were also resource people who would assist women travelling solo in North America on business. Auntie was based in Manhattan. She became an American citizen in the late 1950's (dual US/Canadian citizenship was not an option at the time and has never since exercised the duality option).
Auntie was a Mary Gordon for about a decade and then she and her husband relocated to Dallas, Texas (she was there during the JFK assassination). She has since lived in the Los Angeles area and Tucson, AZ and now lives in Northern Arizona. Ummm.. she's 80-something and still an absolutely beautiful woman. Outlived three husbands.
These three 'I Remember' as well as all the many other family members who have served. I hope I have honoured your service and your memory.
I also wish to dedicate this to a very special person in the Deeeeeeeep South. Historian, US Army veteran, and honourary Canadian. I hope you are well. I (and we at A Creative Revolution) think of you.
If you have someone that you particularly remember, please tell us in the comments.
In Peace,
FF