Invisible goodness

Veteran John Watson shares a lighter moment before my book talk in Swift Current, July 19, 2023.

I was told he was coming. John Watson arrived a few minutes before I began a presentation about a major Second World War story, last Wednesday night in Swift Current, Sask. Watson is a tall man. He wore a red jacket, a scarf, and had a twinkle in his eye as we shook hands.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Watson,” I said. “I understand you’re a veteran, that you served overseas in the last war with the Regina Rifles.”

“Yes, I did,” he said. “But don’t forget the ‘Royal’ part.”

“The Royal Regina Rifles,” I corrected myself, then added, “No doubt ‘Royal’ because of you.”

He laughed and said, “I was just a rifleman.” (more…)

True reconciliation

Authors connect with readers at the Saskatchewan Festival of Words.


The festival began the way most events do these days in Canada. With respect. Last Thursday evening, the creative director of a festival in which I was participating, came to the microphone at the lectern, looked at the assembly of novelists, non-fiction writers, poets and all the other festival-goers. With appropriate sincerity and solemnity, she read the local land acknowledgement.

“We acknowledge that we are on Treaty 4 land,” she said, “encompassing the lands of the Cree, Saulteaux, Dakota, Nakota, Lakota and on the homeland of the Métis Nation.”

That’s the way the 27th edition of the Saskatchewan Festival of Words began in Moose Jaw, last week. (more…)

Bigger’s not better

The first indications were the odd-coloured new signs. All of a sudden, the regular logo where we normally make our deposits, pay our bills and withdraw our cash, began disappearing in literature, pamphlets and, as I say, on the signage inside and outside the building. Then, we received email notification.

“We’re making changes so that you can experience the good in banking,” the email said. “We’re transitioning banking systems.”

As of the July 1 holiday weekend, the Credit Union, at which we have conducted the majority of our financial dealings since we arrived here in 1988, is no more. (more…)

Friending versus finding truth

MP Erin O’Toole speaking in the House of Commons. Hamilton Spectator.

He almost could not speak, the response around him seemed overwhelming. But he finally raised his hands in gentle protest to the standing ovation and when the applauding stopped he offered these words:

“Today, I rise for the last time in this chamber,” MP Erin O’Toole said in the House of Commons on June 12. “It’s been the honour of a lifetime to serve Durham in Parliament.” (more…)

In the face of cultural destruction

Allied troops march past what remained of Ieper’s Cloth Hall after German bombardment during the Great War.

I’d got lost in the main square at Ypres, Belgium. I’d asked for directions from the man at a reception desk inside the town’s massive Cloth Hall. As I thanked him for getting me reoriented, I asked him about the story of Ypres’ recovery and restoration after the Great War in 1918.

“You know that the war levelled the city, yes?” I nodded, and he continued. “It was the forethought of the mayor and aldermen and others that saved our city after World War I.”

“I’d heard that,” I said.

“They gathered all the diagrams of buildings in Ieper (as Belgians call Ypres) and hid them in France,” he said.

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Pilgrimages of loss and remembrance

Robin John prepares notes to remember her uncle’s service in the Great War. Photo Tom John.

We are virtually alone down this back road in northern France. A breeze rustling new spring leaves and chirping birds overhead provide the only sounds here. Nevertheless, because the lawn and flowerbeds look so immaculate, we know gardeners have tended here recently. At a headstone engraved with a maple leaf, our group gathers to listen to fellow traveller Robin John.

“John Alexander Edward Hughes enlisted in the Canadian Forces on May 22, 1917, five days after his 18th birthday,” she said of her uncle.

Which meant that Hughes was just legally eligible to enlist. (more…)

Do battlefield anniversaries still resonate?

D-Day vet Simeon Mayou leads into a conversation of his wartime experiences.

It’s the way he cajoles strangers into friendly conversation. And at age 99, it seems to have worked pretty well for Simeon Mayou. He points out some of the commemorative pins and service medals he wears on his Royal Navy blazer. Then, he pulls his beret off the table and asks for help.

“Just hold the edge of the beret,” he says, “and help me put it on.” (more…)

Wayne and Shuster legacy under fire

Johnny Wayne and Frank Shuster helping the war effort on CBC and in-person behind the lines in Normandy 1944.

It’s June 1944. Two men in Canadian Army battledress are hunkered down waiting for orders. One’s a soldier with sergeant’s stripes. The other’s a private in a greatcoat.

“Time to move out,” says the sergeant.

“I won’t do it,” retorts the private.

“You will, too. When an order is given, it must be obeyed!” And the sergeant points a gun at the enlisted man. “Do it or else.”

At precisely the same moment, there’s the sound of an artillery shell exploding nearby, and the two soldiers dive for cover. Sgt Johnny Wayne then turns to Pte Frank Shuster and says, “And we’re still in Canada! Imagine what it’ll be like when we get overseas!” (more…)

None for hire

The place looked almost as if it were closed. When I entered the reception area of a local auto-repair shop, I didn’t spot any service personnel right away. But when I called out, a receptionist quickly responded and I had my car problem attended to right away. Then, by coincidence, the shop owner mentioned out loud:

“It’d sure help if I found some new hires,” he said.

“Short of tradespeople?” I asked. And when he nodded, I added, “You know you could probably put an ad in this week’s edition of the Cosmos.” (more…)

Tempest in a passport

Abandoned target range where 116th Battalion recruits honed their marksmanship for war in 1915.

Last April, about the middle of the month, I took a detour from my regular travels. I turned down a dirt road south of town, got out of my car and wandered into the bush. There, just a few feet into the woods lies a bunker containing the rusted frames of century-old shooting targets.

It was here young men, three generations ago, prepared to become part of Canadian wartime history. And as I imagined those young recruits of the 116th (Ontario County) Battalion, practising on their Ross rifles, I think of the photograph – at our township museum and depicted in our downtown mural – of troops leaving for the Great War in 1916.

Volunteers depart Uxbridge for overseas in 1916.

“God bless our splendid men,” the sign over Brock and Toronto streets reads in the photo and the mural. “Send them safe home again.”

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