We rarely saw her. But we always saw her handiwork. She came to work at the college where I taught after we’d all left for the day. And when we arrived the next day to resume our tutorials, labs or classroom sessions with students, all those rooms were spick-and-span. Then, one evening when I happened to be working late, I met her – a member of Centennial College’s custodial staff – and I stopped to chat.
“Thanks for all the cleaning you do in our classrooms,” I said.
“You’re welcome,” she said. “Just part of the job.”
“But we never see you. It’s nice to acknowledge what you do.”
“Yes, well, we’re kind of invisible,” she said. (more…)
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.” (more…)
They called him “Doc.” But Fred Sutherland told me that he didn’t know anything about medicine. Somebody who came to see Fred off at the train station, when he left to join the Air Force in 1941, decided because Fred’s dad was a family doctor in that part of Alberta, that the son ought to be nicknamed “Doc.”
“He called me ‘Doc,’” Fred told me, with some embarrassment in 2017. “So, it stuck. All through the war they called me that.” (more…)
Just as I finished a presentation, last week, my cellphone rang. The readout said, “Air Force.” It’s silly, but almost instinctively I straightened by back and my tie, as if duty were calling. It turned out to be a retired Air Force lieutenant colonel, Dean Black, who’s also the executive director of the Royal Canadian Air Force Association on the line. Not quite the Air Force, but, as it turned out, just as important.
“The RCAF Association has decided to recognize you and your new book with the NORAD Trophy,” Black said.
“I’m flattered,” I said, “but what’s the NORAD Trophy?” I knew that NORAD stood for North American Aerospace Defence Command and that the U.S. and Canada had formed it originally in 1957 when Cold War tensions between the Soviet Union and the West were at their highest, to ensure the protection of North America. (more…)
Everybody was new at this. Royalty meeting members of the public at such close range hadn’t really happened much before. The organizers of the meeting, however, went so far as to paint a white line on the grass – like marking side lines on a football field – to keep the planned inspection orderly. Two Royal family members walked on one side of the painted line, and members of the military being inspected stood on the other, including a Royal Air Force pilot named Dave Shannon.
“It’s Flight Lieutenant Shannon’s 21st birthday,” his commanding officer told the King and Queen as they paused before him.
“You seem to be a very well preserved 21,” King George VI told Shannon. “You must have a party tonight.”
The King could probably have spoken for the entire British Commonwealth that day, three-quarters of a century ago. (more…)
It’s a repeating theme in much of his published work, but this week perhaps more than most, Ted Barris’s focus on unheralded Canadian heroism during the Second World War appears to have some resonance.
In recognition of the 75th anniversary of the famous bombing raid against the Ruhr River valley war munitions factories of the Third Reich, Ted Barris offered his first ever talk/presentation on the story of the famous “Dam Busters” raid at the Canadian Warplane Heritage Museum in Hamilton.
About 500 museum members, history buffs, some veterans and the general public filled seats in front of the museum’s WWII Lancaster inside the main hangar to hear the talk. Barris borrowed a comment from one of the Royal Air Force officers featured in the 1955 movie The Dam Busters who told Guy Gibson, the wing commander of No. 617 Squadron, “We mustn’t forget the English” when hand-picking airmen for the raid.
“We mustn’t forget the Canadians,!” Barris emphasized in response.
During the 50-minute presentation, Barris drew on research, interviews and narrative featured in his forthcoming book, Dam Busters: Canadian Airmen and the Secret Raid against Nazi Germany, to be published by HarperCollins this year. The raid on May 16-17, 1943 required 19 specially modified Lancaster bombers to travel at treetop altitude – less than 100 feet off the ground and the water – from Scampton air base in Britain to the Ruhr Valley in the heart of Germany to attempt to destroy the Möhne, Eder and Sorpe dams. They breached the first two and damaged the third, but in the course of the combat operation lost eight bombers including 56 airmen.
Barris pointed out that of the 133 airmen specially chosen and trained in seven and a half weeks prior to the raid, nearly a quarter of those were Canadians. Thirty aircrew – pilots, navigators, flight engineers, wireless radio operators, bomb aimers and gunners – came from nearly every province in the country. What made the story equally important as a Canadian story, Barris pointed out, was that nearly half those chosen for the raid received their training in the British Commonwealth Air Training Plan operated principally in Canada between 1939 and 1945.
“The elephant in the room is that almost half the Dam Busters received their air training in Canada,” Barris said, “and that’s not been recognized before.”
The Canadian Warplane Heritage Museum, who staged the presentation, houses among the largest collections of air-worthy wartime aircraft, including the Mynarski Memorial Lancaster, which towered over Barris and the audience during the presentation.
Dam Busters: Canadian Airmen and the Secret Raid against Nazi Germany is due for release in September, as a Patrick Crean Edition book from HarperCollins Canada.