My dad's sister, aunt Laura Busby, was married to uncle Henry Steve, who fought with Canadian troops during the second world war. All the time I knew him, (between 1954 and into the first decade of the millenium...sometime before 2006), I found him to be a quiet, pleasant man who lived in the tiny village of Meskanaw, then the small city of Melfort, Saskatchewan, Canada. He worked in Meskanaw's hardware store for many years, and aunt Laura caretook the large one-room school house. The hardware store was owned by the Sinclair family, until it closed. In an Ethelton community book (which includes Meskanaw) and was published in the 1970's, they said she was the caretaker for 26 years. I knew he drove their car in a very limited way, because they were forever having to get someone to drive them or missing far away functions altogether. For instance, he would only drive if he could go slow on a short trip, or on a side road. In fact, he would far sooner stay home than be the driver on a long trip, especially if faced with a major highway. Everyone said the reason was "shell shock" from his time in the war. The couple eventually moved into smaller, seniors' housing facility in Melfort at the Pioneeer Lodge and later into the Legion facility.
He was a dedicated gardener and won an award for best garden at the Pioneer Lodge many years running...the "Golden Spade", I believe it was called. She canned and pickled, did crafts and cooked. Throughout all those years, I found her very talkative, while he was quiet and generally more subdued. He often told me of his life growing up in Warman, Saskatchewan. The original house is still standing on that windy little road between Warman and Martensville. He was proud of his association with his community, especially with the Seager Wheeler farm since they were neighbours. Please see the website, www.seagerwheelerfarm.org
Neices and nephews always played an important role in aunt Laura and uncle Henry's lives because they had no children of their own. Unfortunately, first our aunt passed away unexpectedly in the early part of the 2000 decade, (sometime before 2004). She had physically cared for him for a number of years prior because his health was failing miserably. I guess her body gave out. After her death, he was admitted to a nursing home where I was a manager and got to know him even further. However, within a year or two, (before 2006), he passed away himself, gone to be with her.
This weekend, my daughter and I drove back to Melfort for a visit. What we learned as we reminisced is that uncle Henry was born in the United States and received his Naturalization papers when he became a Canadian citizen. Another official document shows his release from the armed forces. On that document, I was stunned to learn that he was a member of the elite "Black Watch" regiment of the Canadian Armed Forces during World War II. Others in his family, like neices and nephews may have known this forever, but not me. Remember, my dad came from a family of eight brothers and sisters and today their offspring are scattered all over the country. My own mother is the last one of that generation left.
From the website for the Black Watch,
http://www.blackwatchcanada.com/en/heritage-and-history/a-brief-history
"During World War II, the Canadian Regiment joined with battalions of the Black Watch from all parts of the Commonwealth in the struggle to defeat the Axis Powers. The Regiment first saw action at Dieppe, where its "C" Company and Mortar Platoon were key components of the assault force. Landing in Normandy shortly after D-Day, the Black Watch participated in some thirty battle actions throughout France, Belgium, the Netherlands, and Germany. Members of the Regiment won 211 honours and awards for the campaign."
From the Black Watch War Time Memories Project Website,
http://www.wartimememoriesproject.com/ww2/allied/blackwatch1.php
"The Black Watch was formed as part of the Childers Reforms in 1881 when the Royal Highland Regiment (The Black Watch) was amalgamated with the 73rd (Perthshire) Foot to form two battalions of the newly named Black Watch (Royal Highlanders). During World War I the 25 battalions of Black Watch fought in France and Flanders, Mesopotamia and Palestine and the Balkans. In World War II, battalions of the Black Watch fought in almost every major action of the British, from Palestine to Dunkirk to Normandy and as Chindits (42 and 73 columns) in Burma.
The 1st Battalion was despatched to France in May 1940 and forced, under the assault of the German blitzkrieg, to withdraw to Dunkirk. Along with most of the 51st Highland Division, it was ordered to surrender at St Valery. In August 1942 the re-formed 1st Battalion along with the 5th and 7th Battalions arrived in North Africa as part of 51st Highland Division in time to take part in the battle of El Alamein, the turning point in the war. This was followed by pursuit across North Africa with hard-fought victories at Mareth and Wadi Akarit, and the entry into Tripoli. Still under the 51st Highland Division, the 1st Battalion Black Watch was part of the invasion of Sicily. After heavy fighting by the 1st Battalion at Gerbini and by all at Sferro, Sicily was conquered. The 1st, 5th and 7th Battalions, still in the 51st Highland Division, were all landed in Normandy on or shortly after D Day, 6 June 1944. All three battalions were employed in the operations to stem the last German offensive into the Ardennes in January 1945. It then fought in the battles of the Reichswald Forest on the Dutch-German? border, with the 1st Battalion being the first Allied troops on German territory. "
Once aunt Laura passed away, and uncle Henry was hospitalized and put into long term care, it was like he couldn't stop talking. Several of us visited him often and what I discovered was that he spoke almost continuously, hardly stopping to take a breath. He had alot to talk about. He wanted to talk about the war and it was in a way that seemed like he was viewing it from the inside out. When I look back, it was almost like a cathartic session for him, either that or like he was verbally writing his memoirs. He seemed to know that his time on Earth was almost over, because he had an urgency about him to get it all out. He spoke of tactics and operations, just like they were yesterday. His eyes would come alive, his mannerisms would match with arms waving and legs jumping. He would vividly be right there in the moment and be pulling you into the memory right alongside him. Indeed, you had to listen hard to keep up, knowing you would do everything in your power to support this incredible animated story of his. I wish I had recorded those visits.
Many of the men and women who returned from the war and who had experienced raw, emotional events were reluctant to dwell on their memories to others. That had been uncle Henry to my knowledge. My whole life, I had heard him talk only minimally about his life during war time. We saw his medals, because aunt Laura proudly showed them to us..I knew he was honoured for several somethings, just not what. The many other neices and nephews had a different relationship with him and may know much more than me, but I can only speak for myself. In the past, he had never drawn attention to himself in any way, more than any other person. To my knowledge he was just another man, my uncle. I know he participated in Remembrance Day services because he was a veteran. I saw him in his uniform and saw pictures of him in his uniform. He did not say he was a hero, he did not even hint at being one, or breathe a thought that he was a hero. I didn't know he was a hero. But now I do... By process of elimination, if he was a member of the Black Watch and holds several medals, that constitutes heroism in my books.
As the days wore on in the nursing home, his congestive heart failure worsened and his voice became affected. That did not stop him from trying to get his story out. Every time I went near him, his words poured out from the heart and all in a rush. He had been shot in the fleshy part of his leg. "Some little nipper got him", is what he told my brother.
What I also remember is that the Canadian veteran's association was after him every so often to make application for the benefits and monies they assured him were his due. I remember him dismissing the whole idea over and over...but never with bitterness. He just humbly thanked them. We all encouraged him to take them up on it because in our eyes, all veterans are in our debt. In fact, no amount of money can make it up to them. Some things money just can't buy. Close to the end, I believe he might have started entertaining the idea, but maybe just to appease us. Amazing.
There are others in my dad's family who went to war, but their stories belong to their own children to tell. These men and women have returned from the war praising God that it was over, but not wanting to colour the lives of those around them with the strife and sadness they witnessed. They slipped back into civilian life and made every attempt to live it with dignity. They had to have experienced many days and months of terror and sadness at watching their friends and comrades fall all around them. They were lucky we think...able to return home to their loved ones. Yet, they are changed forever and carrying a burden of guilt at having survived and a far heavier grief load at their losses. At all costs, they have sacrificed everything to keep us safe and free. They are the proudest Canadians I have ever known.
He was a dedicated gardener and won an award for best garden at the Pioneer Lodge many years running...the "Golden Spade", I believe it was called. She canned and pickled, did crafts and cooked. Throughout all those years, I found her very talkative, while he was quiet and generally more subdued. He often told me of his life growing up in Warman, Saskatchewan. The original house is still standing on that windy little road between Warman and Martensville. He was proud of his association with his community, especially with the Seager Wheeler farm since they were neighbours. Please see the website, www.seagerwheelerfarm.org
Neices and nephews always played an important role in aunt Laura and uncle Henry's lives because they had no children of their own. Unfortunately, first our aunt passed away unexpectedly in the early part of the 2000 decade, (sometime before 2004). She had physically cared for him for a number of years prior because his health was failing miserably. I guess her body gave out. After her death, he was admitted to a nursing home where I was a manager and got to know him even further. However, within a year or two, (before 2006), he passed away himself, gone to be with her.
This weekend, my daughter and I drove back to Melfort for a visit. What we learned as we reminisced is that uncle Henry was born in the United States and received his Naturalization papers when he became a Canadian citizen. Another official document shows his release from the armed forces. On that document, I was stunned to learn that he was a member of the elite "Black Watch" regiment of the Canadian Armed Forces during World War II. Others in his family, like neices and nephews may have known this forever, but not me. Remember, my dad came from a family of eight brothers and sisters and today their offspring are scattered all over the country. My own mother is the last one of that generation left.
From the website for the Black Watch,
http://www.blackwatchcanada.com/en/heritage-and-history/a-brief-history
"During World War II, the Canadian Regiment joined with battalions of the Black Watch from all parts of the Commonwealth in the struggle to defeat the Axis Powers. The Regiment first saw action at Dieppe, where its "C" Company and Mortar Platoon were key components of the assault force. Landing in Normandy shortly after D-Day, the Black Watch participated in some thirty battle actions throughout France, Belgium, the Netherlands, and Germany. Members of the Regiment won 211 honours and awards for the campaign."
From the Black Watch War Time Memories Project Website,
http://www.wartimememoriesproject.com/ww2/allied/blackwatch1.php
"The Black Watch was formed as part of the Childers Reforms in 1881 when the Royal Highland Regiment (The Black Watch) was amalgamated with the 73rd (Perthshire) Foot to form two battalions of the newly named Black Watch (Royal Highlanders). During World War I the 25 battalions of Black Watch fought in France and Flanders, Mesopotamia and Palestine and the Balkans. In World War II, battalions of the Black Watch fought in almost every major action of the British, from Palestine to Dunkirk to Normandy and as Chindits (42 and 73 columns) in Burma.
The 1st Battalion was despatched to France in May 1940 and forced, under the assault of the German blitzkrieg, to withdraw to Dunkirk. Along with most of the 51st Highland Division, it was ordered to surrender at St Valery. In August 1942 the re-formed 1st Battalion along with the 5th and 7th Battalions arrived in North Africa as part of 51st Highland Division in time to take part in the battle of El Alamein, the turning point in the war. This was followed by pursuit across North Africa with hard-fought victories at Mareth and Wadi Akarit, and the entry into Tripoli. Still under the 51st Highland Division, the 1st Battalion Black Watch was part of the invasion of Sicily. After heavy fighting by the 1st Battalion at Gerbini and by all at Sferro, Sicily was conquered. The 1st, 5th and 7th Battalions, still in the 51st Highland Division, were all landed in Normandy on or shortly after D Day, 6 June 1944. All three battalions were employed in the operations to stem the last German offensive into the Ardennes in January 1945. It then fought in the battles of the Reichswald Forest on the Dutch-German? border, with the 1st Battalion being the first Allied troops on German territory. "
Once aunt Laura passed away, and uncle Henry was hospitalized and put into long term care, it was like he couldn't stop talking. Several of us visited him often and what I discovered was that he spoke almost continuously, hardly stopping to take a breath. He had alot to talk about. He wanted to talk about the war and it was in a way that seemed like he was viewing it from the inside out. When I look back, it was almost like a cathartic session for him, either that or like he was verbally writing his memoirs. He seemed to know that his time on Earth was almost over, because he had an urgency about him to get it all out. He spoke of tactics and operations, just like they were yesterday. His eyes would come alive, his mannerisms would match with arms waving and legs jumping. He would vividly be right there in the moment and be pulling you into the memory right alongside him. Indeed, you had to listen hard to keep up, knowing you would do everything in your power to support this incredible animated story of his. I wish I had recorded those visits.
Many of the men and women who returned from the war and who had experienced raw, emotional events were reluctant to dwell on their memories to others. That had been uncle Henry to my knowledge. My whole life, I had heard him talk only minimally about his life during war time. We saw his medals, because aunt Laura proudly showed them to us..I knew he was honoured for several somethings, just not what. The many other neices and nephews had a different relationship with him and may know much more than me, but I can only speak for myself. In the past, he had never drawn attention to himself in any way, more than any other person. To my knowledge he was just another man, my uncle. I know he participated in Remembrance Day services because he was a veteran. I saw him in his uniform and saw pictures of him in his uniform. He did not say he was a hero, he did not even hint at being one, or breathe a thought that he was a hero. I didn't know he was a hero. But now I do... By process of elimination, if he was a member of the Black Watch and holds several medals, that constitutes heroism in my books.
As the days wore on in the nursing home, his congestive heart failure worsened and his voice became affected. That did not stop him from trying to get his story out. Every time I went near him, his words poured out from the heart and all in a rush. He had been shot in the fleshy part of his leg. "Some little nipper got him", is what he told my brother.
What I also remember is that the Canadian veteran's association was after him every so often to make application for the benefits and monies they assured him were his due. I remember him dismissing the whole idea over and over...but never with bitterness. He just humbly thanked them. We all encouraged him to take them up on it because in our eyes, all veterans are in our debt. In fact, no amount of money can make it up to them. Some things money just can't buy. Close to the end, I believe he might have started entertaining the idea, but maybe just to appease us. Amazing.
There are others in my dad's family who went to war, but their stories belong to their own children to tell. These men and women have returned from the war praising God that it was over, but not wanting to colour the lives of those around them with the strife and sadness they witnessed. They slipped back into civilian life and made every attempt to live it with dignity. They had to have experienced many days and months of terror and sadness at watching their friends and comrades fall all around them. They were lucky we think...able to return home to their loved ones. Yet, they are changed forever and carrying a burden of guilt at having survived and a far heavier grief load at their losses. At all costs, they have sacrificed everything to keep us safe and free. They are the proudest Canadians I have ever known.
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