He took one last look. The transaction had transferred ownership of the property. The farm legally belonged to him now. But the old farmhouse had fallen into disrepair and would have to be demolished. So, Clarence Oancia made one last circuit around the house to see if there was anything worth salvaging. Then, Clarence remembered the attic, a loft in the top of the house, and thought he’d better check it too. He climbed the stairs, opened a closet door. And there it was.
“A World War II uniform jacket,” explained Bernie Wyatt, Clarence’s nephew. “[It was] in excellent condition.”
The RCAF tunic belonged to Bernie’s cousin, Stefan “Steve” Oancia, a genuine Second World War hero. But not until his uncle Clarence stumbled over it in that farmhouse closet half a continent away, did Bernie or any member of the family realize just how precious that heirloom was. Because of the history of its owner, it’s very possible that jacket had been packed in a suitcase for a transatlantic voyage aboard a troopship in 1942, cleaned for official wartime ceremonies in Britain, and in May 1943 worn by its owner at Buckingham Palace where Sergeant Pilot Stefan Oancia had a Distinguished Flying Medal pinned on his chest.
“Steve was one of the iconic World War II Dam Busters,” Bernie Wyatt said. Indeed, as a respected military writer himself (author of Two Wings and a Prayer and Maximum Effort) Wyatt corresponded with his famous cousin, after the war, but never met him.
Like so many of his generation, Stefan Oancia’s family had emigrated to Canada from Romania in search of land, opportunity and freedom; his parents – Katie and Demitru Oancia – had settled on land near Stonehenge, a village on the Saskatchewan prairie south of Moose Jaw. Stefan was born there in 1923. When war broke out, Oancia joined the RCAF, training as a bomb aimer and shipping overseas to Bomber Command in the U.K. in 1942.
When choosing airmen for the secret raid against the hydro-electric dams that fueled Nazi Germany’s munitions factories of the Ruhr River valley, Wing Commander Guy Gibson picked Oancia’s bomber crew.
Piloted by Ken Brown, coincidentally from Moose Jaw, on May 16-17, 1943, Oancia’s Lancaster attacked and damaged one of the three major dam targets that night, the Sorpe dam, and returned safely.
Mind you, “safely” is a relative word. When Bernie Wyatt posted a story about his cousin on his website five years ago, he explained that veteran Oancia – once repatriated – never truly left the war behind.
“There were times when he’d hear an airplane [even] a crop-duster fly over,” Stefan’s brother said, “and he’d dive for cover.”
Nevertheless, back on civvy street, veteran bomb aimer Oancia went back to school, earned a bachelor of science degree in civil engineering, and coincidentally got work for a time on dam construction in Quebec.
Amid all the hoopla of the 75th anniversary of the Dam Buster raid, last year, Stefan Oancia’s tunic got lost in the shuffle, until Bernie Wyatt learned about it and suggested to the family that the jacket truly belonged with other Dam Busters artifacts and documents at the Canadian Warplane Heritage Museum (CWHM) in Hamilton.
That’s when the nearly forgotten jacket began another unique journey. In May, Wyatt’s mother travelled from B.C. to Saskatchewan to pick up the jacket. In Regina, she packed it carefully in her luggage, flew home to Port Coquitlam, and mailed the tunic to her son in the East. Bernie Wyatt took advantage of the jacket being in his home in Oakville, Ont. He tried it on, this week, and except for the length of its sleeves, it fit him perfectly. Then, on the final leg of the jacket’s cross-Canada trek, Wyatt travelled down the road to Hamilton to present it to CWHM curator Erin Napier.
“The family is calling it ‘Steve’s Last Flight,’” Wyatt said.
Some might wonder that a family would fuss over something as simple as a wartime RCAF tunic. It’s only a jacket from a bygone era. But this week, when Bernie Wyatt told me about “Steve’s Last Flight,” he said he got emotional about it. I guess he idolized his veteran cousin.
Just after three o’clock in the morning, 76 years ago this past May, bomb-aimer Stefan Oancia lined up the Nazis’ war-harnessed Sorpe dam, and dropped the 10,000-pound bomb right on target. He watched the resulting explosion create a giant waterspout and the crumbling of the top of the dam. And, for his family, that jacket represents “mission accomplished” for Sergeant Pilot Stefan Oancia.
“I regret that I never met [Steve] face to face,” Bernie Wyatt said finally. “I’d want to shake his hand … and thank him, especially for his service during a scary time for him and other youngsters who went off to war. His generation helped save our butts.”
Am happy that Stefan’s last flight originated from Regina, Saskatchewan, near his birthplace and finally to Hamilton, Ontario, to the museum where it truly belongs.
Marianne Oancia Wyatt
This is fantastic. Steve was my uncle. My late father David Oancia, an award winning journalist, was very close with Steve. You spent much time with Steve and his wife Ruth In both Chicago and Ottawa when I was growing up.
Patrick, I lost track of David Oancia, your father. We were in the same grade in a country school Twelve Mile Lake in Stonehenge, Saskatchewan, until he continued on in his career of Journalism. I have many good memories of him. I last saw David at my parents’ home on the farm early 1949.
Thank you to the Wyatt family. I am Bill Oncea’s daughter Pat. I just found out about this from an old friend and plan to take my family over to the museum, so they can see the uniform.
I was a good friend of David in Regina 1957 to 1960. I remember David’s dad Stephan well. I also remember brother Steve well. I joined the air cadets in Regina on his advice.
Marianne, I would love to know more about my father’s upbringing…might I contact you directly?