Remembrance Day

 

Dad, in larger photo, wearing his Canadian uniform in WWII; smaller photo about 10 years old

Dad served in WWII, first in the Aleutians, then being sent to England to prepare for D-Day.  He was pretty much a pacifist, but he did his duty.

He was born in 1919 in Red Rock, BC.  The family had arrived in the US, going first to Grandpa Peter's brother, who was living in San Francisco, then making their way north and eventually crossed into Canada.  Two of dad's sisters were born on the prairies with dad the 'last' here in BC.  They obtained land under the Homestead Act (as I understand it - some family stories have been heavily 'edited' by my mother) and they carved some 'farm' land out of the forest on the east side of the Fraser River.  They actually did not do too badly for themselves with a large number of boys, hiring themselves out as harvest crews, making instruments and forming a band.  Plus the gold in the river to pan.

One story is about one of my uncles who had panned gold and bought himself an accordion from the Eaton's catalogue.  One night they were playing at a dance at a village called Woodpecker (I think), Uncle Emil met some buddies and after the rest of the band packed up, Emil and buddies continued to shoot the breeze and drink more beer.  Buddies assured Emil that they could give him a ride home and the rest of the 'boys' left Emil to his visiting and drinking.

Turns out the 'ride' was in a canoe.  Having had several beers too many the three of them were tipsy and well, the canoe did what canoes will do - it tipped the boys and the accordion into the water and away it sailed, never to be seen again.  And Emil set about panning for gold to replace it.

None of the other men in the family served in the war.  Dad was so much younger than the other 'boys' that by the time war was declared, they were married, with kids, most of them farming.  But dad had none of that.  So when he was told to report to enlist, he did.  

The first few years were 'easy' - he was sent to the Aleutians and served alongside US soldiers.  Because the family identified as 'German' - spoke German, read it, had family that had been left behind when they left Europe.  He was likely suspected of being sympathetic to Germans/Germany.  But dad was born here in Canada, and he hadn't learned to speak German much, especially after his mother died when he was 10.  About the time of the smaller photo.

Life on the farm was not easy.  Most of the stories were related by mother and are, therefore, 'suspect'.

But I do believe the one about what dad did when he was de-mobbed.  He stripped all the 'medals' he had been given, keeping only his regiment identification, and when he returned to Red Rock, he packed up his two hunting rifles and handed them to a nephew and never went hunting again.  I'm pretty sure this is true because I was 16 before I knew there was such a thing as 'rare' meat.  If there was 'blood' on his plate, he would shove the plate away and wrestle with nausea.  

As for the regiment badges, he kept one of his army jacket pockets and pinned the things he kept to that - which I still have.  A testament to his personal values.  Yes, he went to war; yes he did his duty; doesn't mean he liked it.  But he did go - and fought the fascists.

Yes, my father is one of the antifa 'terrorists' that the current crop of fascists are warning us all about.  He fought for democracy - as flawed as it was, and still is.  He fought for freedom of being bullied by others who wanted to control everyone else.  He fought for his life on Juno beach, and on into Holland.

And it left him with PTSD, an aversion to seeing blood, an aversion to being bullied.  When my brother stood up to a bully who was picking on one of Don's friends, dad supported him.  Was even proud, I think.  It was a bit hard to tell, at times.  But there was no punishment, from either of our parents, in the end.  It was a short, sharp lesson, and one I have not forgotten.  

Rest in peace, dad.  And Don.  And mom.  You all made me the person I am now.  I hope you think I'm doing ok.  And on this coming Remembrance Day, I vow to continue the resistance to fascists and bullies.  As best I can.