time, like a silent river (11)

Remembering a World at War

Remembrance Day 2013 is just a few days away. On November 11 two neighbours will join me for the walk to the cenotaph in downtown London.

I hope to see you there.

* * * * * 

Today's quote -

"Glasgow was a popular hangout for the Canadian Navy. It was then a

big dirty seaport but we always felt quite welcome. The Lacarno Dance

Hall was a favourite haunt where we were sure to find out what

Canadian ships were in port." Lloyd Evans, RCNVR,

Combined Operations re 1942

Today's story -

               The Cold, Cold Winter of 1941

A day after seeing an explosion, hearing cries from survivors of a sinking ship and helping fire one round at a submerging submarine, my father arrived safely in Scotland. Though he later wrote about the warm reception offered by the Scots, he says the UK winter weather served up nothing but cold:

     We spent little time at Niobe (barracks in Scotland) but entrained
     for Havant in southern England, to H.M.S. Northney 1, a barracks -
     formerly a summer resort - with a large building for eating and then
     cabins with four bedrooms. This was December, 1941 or January, 1942
     and there was no heat at all in the brick cabins. The toilets all froze
     and split. But we made out. Our eating quarters were heated.
     [pg. 11, "Dad, Well Done"]

Lloyd Evans, another member of the Royal Canadian Navy Volunteer Reserve and volunteer for Combined Operations recalls the cold at HMS Northney I as well in an online site:

     In the winter months there was usually an icicle hanging from the
     tap when we arose in the mornings! I used my navy mattress at night
     in an often vain attempt to keep warm. Meals were served in a large
     central dining room which was a welcome relief from the cold. The
     R.N. types couldn’t imagine why we complained about the cold since
     we came from the land of ice and snow - not appreciating that our
     Canadian homes were, out of absolute necessity, well insulated and
     properly heated. [Combined Operations website]

["Combined Ops insignia: from Comb. Ops website"]

While the young sailors adapted to the UK winter their Cobined Ops instructors, in locations in northern Scotland and southern England, served up more training, for the first time on navy barges that would one day be used for very serious business, i.e., the invasion of foreign shores, e.g., North Africa, Sicily, Italy and Normandy.

My father writes:

      So, as the navy goes, we went back to Niobe on March 21, 1942... 

     Thence to H.M.S. Quebec barracks in Ayrshire, Scotland on Loch

     Long. We were all in good shape and this was to be one of the more

     memorable camps, with our first actual work and introduction to

     landing barges. We trained on ALCs (assault landing crafts) which

     carried approximately 37 soldiers and a crew of four, i.e., Coxswain,

     two seamen and stoker. Some carried an officer. 

     We did much running up on beaches so soldiers could disembark and
     re-embark, always watching the tide if it was flowing in or going out.
     You could be easily left high and dry, or broach too, if you weren’t
     constantly alert. We took long trips at night in close single formation,
     like ducks closed up close, because all you could see was the florescent
     waters churned up by propellors of an ALC or LCM (landing craft
     mechanized) ahead.

[Assault Landing Craft, like 'ducks closed up':

Photo at wikipedia]

Lloyd Evans also recalls experiences concerning the early days of training that would remind him of the seriousness of war:

     Posting to Combined Operations - we discovered we had 'volunteered'
     to operate Landing Craft for future raids and landings under the
     auspices of Combined Operations. Portsmouth and Southampton came
     under heavy bombing raids courtesy of the Luftwaffe (while we were
     there). What an unforgettable sight it was with ack ack fire arcing
     upwards and bombs dropping. Large piles of timber, located in
     uninhabited places around the cities, were set alight during bombing
     raids. This was to confuse German bombers into thinking that the fires
     were part of the cities marked by their Pathfinders and to have them
     release their bombs where they would do little or no damage. Some
     nights I stood guard duty at the end of a long pier as lookout for
     German raiding parties. In the lonely darkness of the night this
     inexperienced 18 year old discovered the power of the imagination!
     It seemed that the end of the watch would never come.... I was
     gaining a sense of the terrible nature of modern warfare as I realised
     in my imaginings how easily they could be turned into brutal
     and bloody reality. [Combined Operations website]

["Doug Harrison stands guard (with a wooden rifle?)"]

As things turned out, 'brutal and bloody reality' was only a few weeks away for many young sailors and their barges.

More to follow.

Photos, if not otherwise noted, by GH

***

Please click here to read time, like a silent river (10)

time, like a silent river (10)

Remembering a World at War

Who will you remember on Remembrance Day? Or, what will you remember?

William Anderson, Toronto remembers an explosion and a 'hapless pilot'. In Voices of a War Remembered (published in 1991) he says the following:

     Every year when Remembrance Day rolls around, I go back
     almost half a century to my days in the Second World War. 

On November 11, 1943 Mr. Anderson, a young RCN officer, was shipped to England aboard SS Bayanu, a tiny freighter, and on route watched two biplanes attempt to land upon a nearby aircraft carrier. The first landed safely but the second, because of heavy wave action, hit the ship's stern head-on.

     "The ship fell back into the sea like a broken toy. As we
     watched in horror, helpless and spell-bound, the carrier
     captain ordered full power and drove the ship away as fast as
     he could before the depth charge (loosened from the biplane
     on impact) reached its exploding depth. When the explosion
     did come, the resultant column of water threw the aircraft
     and the hapless pilot skyward. It was the end of the pilot and
     his machine. In little more than an instant, out idyllic cruise
     to Europe became a real and frightening experience." [pg. 307]

Every year fewer WW2 veterans are present at Remembrance Day services to recall the past, good or bad. But it is my hope that every year some other person will come to stand in their place.

["A veteran on the Parkwood Hospital bus, at

London's cenotaph, Nov. 11, 2011": photo GH] 

* * * * *

Today's quote - 

               "One restaurant (in Halifax) had a sign in its

               window - Dogs and sailors not allowed."

               L/S Doug Harrison, Navy memoirs

["Welcome to Halifax"]

Today's story -

More drills, oppos and a rare navy buzz (2)

By volunteering for the RCNVR in 1941 my father was required to move, initially, to Hamilton, then to Halifax. By volunteering for 'special duties overseas' while in Halifax he was required to undergo more specific types of training with Combined Operations in Scotland, a new part of the armed forces initiated by Winston Churchill and carried out, for the most part, by Lord Louis Mountbatten.

About the first time he caught wind of Combined Ops while in Halifax my father writes:

     One day we heard a mess deck buzz or rumour that the navy
     was looking for volunteers for special duties overseas, with
     nine days leave thrown in. Many from the Effingham Division,
     including myself, once again volunteered. (Will I ever quit
     volunteering?) The buzz turned out to be true and we came
     home on leave, which involved three days coming home on a
     train, three days at home and three days on the train going back.
     [pg. 7, "DAD, WELL DONE"]

Apparently, other sailors new to Halifax, arriving a month or two after my father, were also asked to volunteer for special duties, and my father indicates there was more than one type of volunteer:

     We met a lot of sailors, who were shortly to go through what
     we went through already, and they called themselves commandos.
     They sure were in for a rude awakening. We were never called
     commandos, only combined operations ratings, and we were the
     first from Canada to go overseas. [Ibid]

["Will I ever quit volunteering?": Doug Harrison,

part of the first Canadian draft for Combined Ops]

After celebrating Christmas leave at home, father returned to Halifax to board the Queen of Bermuda, a large passenger liner bound for the Firth of Clyde and Canadian barracks in Scotland. For some reason, the ship quickly ran aground and couldn't be moved, so - after many hours of fruitless bailing - the troops were transferred to a Dutch ship, the Volendam. With assurances from the captain that they would all arrive safely ("the Volendam had already taken three torpedoes and lived to sail", recalls my father), the men settled in for their first meal ("sausage with lots of grease") and many young sailors, "who had never been to sea except for a few hours in Halifax upon a minesweeper", promptly became seasick.

Seasickness, however, was the least of their worries. Many years after his first trip abroad, my father would recall the night he stood watch at the guns and saw an explosion off the starboard side:

     Late at night I was on watch at our stern (4.7 gauge) and saw a red

     plume of an explosion on our starboard quarter. In the morning

     the four-stacker (i.e., an American ship) was not to be seen. The

     next evening I heard cries for help, presumably from a life-raft

     or life-boat. Although I informed the officer of the watch, we were

     unable to stop and place ourselves in jeopardy as we only had the

     Firedrake with ASDIC (sonar) to get us through safely.

["On 17 Dec. 1942, while escorting a convoy, Firedrake
was torpedoed and sunk. The corvette HMS Sunflower
picked up 27 survivors."

Caption and photo at wikipedia]

     After some days we spotted a light on our port stern quarter one

     night. It was the light of the conning tower of a German submarine.

     How she failed to detect us, or the Firedrake detect it, I will never

     know. I was gun layer and nearly fell off the gun. I informed the

     Bridge and the Captain said, “Don’t shoot. Don’t shoot. It could be

     one of ours.” But as it quickly submerged we did fire one round to

     buck up our courage. (After arriving in Scotland) it was soon

     confirmed that the American four-stacker had taken a fish (torpedo).

And down the ramp and into the cold Canadian barracks he did go after his own less than 'idyllic cruise to Europe'.

More to follow.

Photos by GH

***

Please click here to read time, like a silent river (9)

Please click on the label below time like a silent river to link to the series of posts by this title.

time, like a silent river (9)

Remembering a World at War

"(Seventy) years have passed, and time, like a silent river, has carried away the Canada we knew then. The war - and Canada's great military achievements, as well as our astonishing industrial contribution to the war effort - changed the nation forever." From the Epilogue of The Veterans' Years by Barry Broadfoot

On Remembrance Day, six days from now, people from around the world will stop for a few minutes and recall times of great significance and sacrifice. In London, people of all ages, all affected directly and indirectly by the life-changing events and consequences of the World Wars, will meet together, and remember, at the Cenotaph in Victoria Park.

* * * * *

Today's quote - 

"The Dutch captain lined us all up and assured us we would arrive safely because the Volendam had already taken three torpedoes and lived to sail. This was vert heartening news for those of us who had never been to sea..." [Doug Harrison, O/D or ordinary seaman at the time - December, 1941]

Today's story -

More drills, oppos and a rare navy buzz (1)

While 340,000 English and French troops were being evacuated - to fight another day - from Dunkirk in June, 1940, my father, age 19, was working at the Norwich Co-op. While significant battles were being waged upon the Atlantic and in the North Sea, which included the sinking of the British battle cruiser Hood and German battleship Bismarck in May, 1941, my father, was picking up rudimentary seamanship skills at H.M.C.S. Star in Hamilton. And during October of '41, about a month after the siege of Leningrad (St. Petersburg) began and two months before the Japanese bombing of Pearl Harbour, father, then 21, began more serious training as an officially classed O/D (ordinary seaman) in Halifax.

[Wellington Barracks, on large training grounds,

later known as Stadacona, at aldershot1940.com]

While in Halifax he made a single important decision that would shape the way he participated in the war. Someone was looking for volunteers and, along with just about all his training buddies, father raised his hand. Though he may have put up his hand because he heard magic words to a 21-year-old - "nine days leave" - he never expressed one word of regret in later years.

About his two - three month and significant stay in Halifax father writes, "time passed quickly at Stadacona" (originally known as Wellington Barracks by the British Army), so it didn't seem long to him between the time he arrived, completed hard training, signed himself up for special duties overseas and stepped aboard a Dutch liner bound for Scotland shortly after 'nine days leave' and Christmas. A few of his sentences concerning that moment in time are filled with meaning to me today, more than 70 years later:

     Training was very severe in Halifax. We were now known as

     Effingham Division under the good old White Ensign. Names

     for divisions were taken from old battleships of the Royal

     Navy. We went six weeks before being allowed to go ashore...

     [pg. 6, "DAD, WELL DONE"]

With Admiral Horatio Nelson as one of his heroes, my father would have been keen on the name of his division. But I'm certain he would not have been keen about his inability 'go ashore', since his philosophy as a young sailor surely was - like 99.99 per cent of other sailors - 'all work and no play makes Jack - and Doug - a dull boy'. However, the constant training undoubtedly prepared him in many respects for what lay ahead and turned him into a good team player.

That father saw himself as a member of 'Team Navy' can be seen in part by his occasional use of navy terms or lingo. For example, he trained on dry land at Stadacona and had little opportunity to be aboard a ship of any size at the time, so when he says 'to go ashore' he means to leave the navy grounds. He also writes that during training "nearly everyone had paired off in threes, buddies, or in naval language, 'oppo'." I was puzzled about that term after I first read it but now know it means your opposite number, the fellow you often work beside (or fellows - if, as Dad recalls, you're 'paired off in threes').

["The men of Effingham Division, Stadacona, 1941"] 

In another statement that includes father's use of Navy lingo I also discover how it is he ended up in Combined Operations, a part of the armed forces - perhaps little known about - linked to early, daring raids into Europe (two years before D-Day Normandy). As a member of Combined Ops he was sent to particular training bases in Scotland and eventually helped transport all manner of troops and war supplies upon Navy barges to various war zones in North Africa, Sicily and Italy in 1942 - 43.

More to follow.

Photos by GH

***

Please click here to read time, like a silent river (8)

time, like a silent river (8)

Remembering a World at War

Recommended Reading

As Remembrance Day 2013 approaches some minds may turn to stories related to World War 2. The following are informative books, three by veterans of that war:

The Veterans' Years by Barry Broadfoot

Voices of a War Remembered by Bill McNeil

2194 Days of War compiled by Cesare Salmaggi and Alfredo Pallavisini

"Dad, Well Done", naval memoirs of Doug Harrison

The first three I found at various used book stores. 

Photos by GH

***

Please click here to read time, like a silent river (7)

time, like a silent river (7)

Remembering a World at War

"Every year on Remembrance Day, with cold arthritic feet and a red and runny nose, I attend the services at the war memorial in Ottawa and think of my former buddies, those other aircrew members who died in the bloom of their youth. I grieve for all of those boys, for that's what they were..." James Cameron Lovelace, Sydney, Nova Scotia [page 21, VOICES OF A WAR REMEMBERED]

* * * * *

Today's quote -

When eight weeks of training were over... we really were proud
and put on a display of marching never seen before or since in Hamilton.
Shoulders square, arms swinging shoulder high, thousands watched and we
were roundly cheered and applauded. This was a proud moment long
remembered... Doug Harrison, Naval memoirs

Today's story - 

Important Days of Training 

Canada's population was between 11 and 12 million people when World War 2 began and the professional nucleus of the armed forces numbered less than 10,000 professionals. The number quickly grew to over half a million by 1941 and approached three-quarters of a million in 1944, including 37,000 women in uniform. The war effort benefitted from the eagerness of the raw recruits who in turn were rewarded with important new skills.

Bob Robinson, Regina, says the following about what good training meant to him:

     Now, I joined the infantry in November of '42, a year out

     of high school. I knew nothing. By some fluke, somebody

     who pushed the buttons and cranked the levers said... (I)

     wasn't the right sort for infantry, so after my advanced

     training at Shilo I was put into the RCE, the engineers.

     That reduced my chances of going overseas because engineers

     were needed in Canada, too. I learned carpentry, and it

     wasn't rough carpentry either. Finishing work. Who do you

     think put in the officers' mess at Vimy Barracks and at Shilo?

     Us. Me. I learned carpentry and welding and plumbing and

     other trades, too, and I got a trades education. It was a form

     of college. I was learning something which would help me on

     Civvie Street and I'm damn glad for it.

     [pg. 21-22, The Veterans' Years]

[Toronto Transit Commission Reserve Army Float, April 10,1943

Photo from National Archives of Canada]

Training experiences, locations and outcomes greatly varied. Few could imagine where all of it would lead. Reg Knight from Huntsville tells the following story:

     Back in January... (1943), I had just finished a general

     reconnaissance course at the RCAF station in Summerside, PEI.

     A group of us were sitting around a common room, yakking up

     a storm, and waiting to find out... where we would be posted.

     A flight lieutenant walked in came up to me and without

     preamble said, "Knight, where do you want to go, Patricia Bay,

     British Columbia, or Nassau in the Bahamas?"

     I just sat there with my mouth wide open, required to make

     a decision which would determine my future and whether my

     life even had much of a future. I said, "What's at Pat Bay?" He

     replied, "An operational training unit for torpedo bombers."

     ...This didn't seem to auger well for a long and happy life with

     the girl I intended to marry as soon as they gave me some time

     off. I asked, "What's at Nassau?" He said, "An operational training

     unit for long range anti-submarine patrol in four engined aircraft."

     Well, since I always liked to have a comfortable number of

     engines out there, all working, Nassau seemed like the place

     for me... (and) when I had absorbed all the training they could

     pour into me on this side of the Atlantic, the next step was

     England. My job was navigator on a B-17 Flying Fortress which

     most airmen simply called, "The Fort." Our job was anti-submarine

     patrol and convoy escort, which could often be very routine.

     Often but not always. (Great adventures followed for Reg.)

     [pg. 27 - 28, VOICES OF A WAR REMEMBERED]

["Sign up, then shut up"; Photo of war poster

from National Archives of Canada]

Though my father was considered 'lower deck' in 1941 (i.e., an ordinary seaman), a short story by someone trained for the 'upper deck' runs parallel to some of his own:

     My own navy days were relatively happy. I went in as an officer.

     I was one of the fortunate people who, after having graduated

     from Royal Roads after four months of hard concentrated training

     in everything having to do with the navy, was in terrific shape

     both mentally and physically to do battle...No soon had we finished

     our training than we were all aboard ships, and I sure as hell found

     out that there was indeed a war on. I joined a Banghor minesweeper,

     the Chetibuctou, which was an escort vessel engaged in accompanying

     vessels from Halifax up to Quebec City.

     [Jack McClelland of Toronto, pg. 283, Ibid]

Shortly after leaving Halifax for Quebec City, Mr. McClelland was introduced - explosively - to WW2. Though going in the opposite direction when he left Halifax, my father was introduced to the war in the same way.

More to follow. 

Photos by GH

***

Please click here to read time, like a silent river (6)

To read the series entries to date, please click the label below, i.e., time like a silent river

time, like a silent river (6)

Remembering a World at War

Round about the time my father left home in Norwich and got down to serious training with the Royal Canadian Navy Volunteer Reserve at H.M.C.S. Star in Hamilton in 1941, the following news was coming out of Europe:

German U-boats played havoc with Allied shipping in the Atlantic.

["H.M.S. Ark Royal torpedoed and sinking";

photo from SEIGE: MALTA - 1940 - 1943]

The German battleship Bismarck was sunk at 6:00 a.m., May 24.

["Survivors from the Bismarck, covered in oil, are picked up by

a British ship"; Photo - pg. 133, 2194 DAYS OF WAR]

The Blitz was continuing in England's capital city

["Every night London is devastated by countless incendiary

bombs"; Photo - pg. 109, 2194 DAYS OF WAR]

Malta was being ground into dust the Luftwaffe.

["A building in Malta takes a direct hit from a German bomb";

pg. 90, FORGOTTEN VOICES of the Second World War¨]

Canadian men and women would have had much on their minds while doing countless new drills.

More to follow.

Photos by GH

***

Please click here to read time, like a silent river (5)

time, like a silent river (5)

Remembering a World at War

Remembrance Day 2013 is less than two weeks away. Though November 11 is still a day off in most provinces (according to Wikipedia), the expectation to attend a public service seems to be declining. I would like to see expectations go the other way.

* * * * * 

Today's quote -

"The theory behind convoys was that there was at least some safety

in numbers. Huge armadas of merchant and navy ships would depart

together and head across the Atlantic for Britain, with the knowledge

that while many would be sunk on the way across, at least
some of their numbers would make it through."

[pg. 270, Voices of a War Remembered]

Today's story -

Early Days of Training in Hamilton

In the spring of 1941, news coming out of Europe related to World War 2 would have mentioned the following: The blitz continued in London; Malta was being ground into dust by The Luftwaffe; German U-boats played havoc with Allied shipping in the Atlantic; the British battle cruiser Hood and German battleship Bismarck were sunk at 6:00 a.m., May 24 and 10:40 a.m., May 27, 1941, respectively. Three sailors survived the sinking of the Hood (of 1,400); less than 200 survived the destruction of the Bismarck (of 2,000).

It was during this time my father left home in Norwich, moved into his sister Gertie's apartment on Bay Street, Hamilton and got down to his first helping of serious business related to training for his future role with the Royal Canadian Navy Volunteer Reserve. In later years members of the armed forces could easily recall training experiences, the associated hard work and free-spirited humour, likely because the work and military setting were brand new to just about all of them. My father wrote about those days and while doing so created, in my opinion, the most-illuminating and funniest run-on sentence in our family's history.

["Father's girlfriend - later my mother -

visits him in Hamilton; circa 1941"]

     June 21, 1941, I went on probationary strength at HMCS Star in
     Hamilton, corner of McNab and McNutt streets... and took
     instructions on semaphore, rifle drill, marching, compass work,
     bends and hitches, knots and splices etc... During the day I was
     employed at James St. North Hamilton Cotton Mills... (and) at
     Locke St. potteries before going to cotton mills.
     [pg. 3, "DAD, WELL DONE", Naval memoirs]

Father was chewed out at the potteries and quit, almost in the same instant one day. I think one of his sentences, however, lasted a bit longer than the whole affair. See for yourself:

     I quit my job at potteries because of a small misdemeanor of
     taking a smoke. I was called to the office and reprimanded but
     the foreman wanted me to stay on, but when I quit, I quit, and
     he knew where he could stuff his clay, (wait for it... GH) which
     was formed and molded, then enamelled and heated at high
     heat for use as electric fence insulators, toilet and sink bowls
     and for electric stove elements.

Ouch. Lesson learned - things can get pretty hot sometimes when my father is involved. But he knew how to work; details concerning his training follow:  

     Space at H.M.C.S. Star was not large enough for all-out training

     as (it) is now. Rifle drill, route marches, frog-hopping up hills with

     60 pound sacks on our back (frog-hopping is hopping in a squat

     position), and gunnery under the gunnery officer who always wears

     black garters. Everything is done on the double. It was a madhouse.

     They really toughened us up. Hold a Lee Enfield rifle (approximate

     weight - 12 to 14 pounds) in front of you in one hand and double

     change to the other hand, over your head, behind your back, then

     watch black garters walk away and forget all about you and you are

     still running. 

["Lee Enfield rifle found at www.guns.com"]

Fortunately, new recruits had a bit of fun along the way to make the hard work go down a little easier. Father writes:

     Comedy too was all part of naval life. We had to scrub and wax

     and polish the ward room floor, and after waxing we put a rating

     in a clean pair of overalls onto the floor and dragged him by his

     arms and ankles to polish it. Needless to say, corners were tough

     on his head.

Again, ouch. After his time in Hamilton father moved to Halifax where he reports the training was even more demanding. It was in Halifax, I believe, he first heard about Combined Operations, an organization (directly under British Prime Minister Winston Churchill and Lord Louis Mountbatten) that would play an integral part in training him still further and then transport him to significant battle fronts. Before that though, he describes one last proud moment related to his early training:   

     When eight weeks of training were over we were shipped to Halifax,

     but not before the 80 of us, led by our mascot (a huge Great Dane

     led by Scotty Wales who was under punishment) and headed by a

     band, did a route march through Hamilton in early evening. We really

     were proud and put on a display of marching never seen before or

     since in Hamilton. Shoulders square, arms swinging shoulder high,

     thousands watched and we were roundly cheered and applauded.

     This was a proud moment long remembered, but soon we were bound

     for Halifax after a goodbye to Mum and family.

["...the class of '41 (march) across the C.N.R. bridge on
McNab St." Photo attributed to D. Harrison,
H.M.C.S. Star, 50th Anniversary Edition"]

More to follow.

***

Please click here to read time, like a silent river (4)

Click on the label below (time like a silent river) to read all parts to date.

time, like a silent river (4)

Remembering a World at War

My father walked with a limp and occasionally used a cane in his later years. The limp was not the result of a war injury (he returned from Europe, on leave, in 1943 after two years of 'hostilities only' unscathed, at least physically) and it didn't much deter him from getting to where he wanted to go. One determined man he was. About three weeks from now, on November 11, I'll walk to the cenotaph in Victoria Park, London and back, about an hour of easy walking all told. On November 12, however, I'll walk with a limp for the first hour or two of the day because my right hip is getting temperamental. (Thirty year's worth of jogging and marathoning are exacting a price, I think). I guarantee that on that day, after getting up and walking even a short distance (e.g., behind the counter of a local coffee shop to sneak a refill), I'll be remembering my dad.

* * * * *

Today's quote - 

"The lights of Halifax were fast disappearing and my thoughts

were of my wife of ten days, and how the distance between

us was increasing every hour." [Reg Knight, from Huntsville,

Ontario; 2 AM, on the deck of the Louis Pasteur, July 1943]

Today's story - 

Signing Up Means Leaving Home (2)

Families deeply missed their freshly-recruited boys and girls as soon as the front door of an empty nest closed behind them. And the boys and girls destined for armed forces' manning depots or training centers across Canada missed their families almost as soon as buses and trains - loaded with the raw recruits - left the station in their hometowns.

Many had strong feelings about leaving home or could, in later years, recall clear memories of their first few nights away. 

Reg Knight writes: 

     "Few, if any, soldiers left Canada for the battlefields of Europe

     with the belief that they wouldn't return. I know I didn't.

     I was married to a very lovely girl ten days before leaving, and

     I sure didn't want to go but I most emphatically intended to come

     back, as did all those others whose short time on earth ended

     thousands of miles from the homes that they longed for."

He did not want to leave, but leave he did, aboard the Louis Pasteur out of Halifax in 1943, feeling the distance grow between himself and his new wife, nautical mile by nautical mile.

John Grimshaw, one of thousands of 'adventure-seeking youngsters' who joined the Royal Canadian Air Force, waved good-bye to home and then travelled to Number One Manning Depot (for a well-remembered physical exam, an early step in the recruitment process), found in the 'recently vacated home of the Royal Winter Fair - the Coliseum building of Toronto's Canadian National Exhibition'. He vividly recalls the first night in his new surroundings: 

     "... disillusionment set in quickly. The lingering smell of horse

     manure didn't help... 

     At night this cavernous room was bathed in an eerie blue light

     and it was filled with the night noises created by a thousand

     sleeping bodies... Occasionally, if one were awake and listening,

     you could hear the soft sniffles of some lonely youngster who

     couldn't get used to being away from home."

     [pg. 66, Voices of a War Remembered]

Many women signed up for various duties as well (my mother made an attempt but was turned down) and experienced their own hardships related to leaving home and settling into new and oft-times very strange quarters.

Kitty Hawker, later in life a resident of Don Mills, Ontario says she was propelled into the war by "the attack on Dieppe in 1942... Most (of the hometown regiment, the Essex Scottish) were either killed or captured. On the streets of Windsor people were openly crying. I simply couldn't wait any longer to get into the fight," so she volunteered to take a trade course in Filter Ops (radar usage, with the RCAF). She recalls the following mixed reactions to her leaving home in September, 1942 and her first thoughts about arriving in Ottawa:

     "My parents were very proud but my sister was upset because...

     she wanted me to be there (for her upcoming wedding). Some of

     my mother's friends were horrified, because there were many false

     stories going around about the looseness of women in the services.

     The train ride to Ottawa... was quite unreal, and when we were

     met at the train station, herded into buses and urged to sing, "I've

     got sixpence," we were all left wondering what we had got ourselves

     into. Everything was strange and new, almost like being put down

     on another planet..." [Ibid, page 32] 

Having to get used to another world quickly was quite common for many recruits. Ann Farrell, an English woman with boarding school experience, and after the war a resident of Toronto, remembers her first morning in Gloucestershire, England among members of the Women's Auxiliary Air Force (WAAF):

     "Nearly all of us were middle-class girls and some had never

     been away from home before... I remember the first morning

     in the air force. The place was full of crying girls who were so

     lonesome for their mothers. Some of them had never put out

     their own clothes before and they were completely baffled as

     to what they had to do. Every little thing that came up would

     start them crying again. It was hilarious in a way, if it hadn't

     been so tragic for them." [Ibid, page 70]

["My father and his mother Alice, Christmas 1941. A

week or so later later he was training in Scotland"]

Compared to many others my father had it easy. He likely said good-bye to his mother and some brothers and sisters on the front porch of the family home or from the rail platform at the west-end railway station just across the street. After a two-hour journey he landed safely in Hamilton and moved into an older sister's apartment on Bay Street, not too far from his training center (H.M.C.S. Star) and the James Street cotton mills, an early place of employment. 

That being said, surely not one person hearing "Good-bye... good-bye... good-bye," while clutching a tightly-packed cardboard or leather suitcase had a full idea of what the upcoming days of anticipated training were going to be like or what new adventures lay ahead in a strange Canadian city, and then later, an even-stranger foreign shore.

They would soon learn. More to follow.

Photos by GH 

***

Please click here to read time, like a silent river (3)