Good souls and a Great War soldier
The long and curious service of a long-passed serviceman
Not far from Vancouver, in an apartment in Pitt Meadows, Yvonne Mcdonald was helping her elderly neighbour pack up her things to move to new accommodations.
Progressing to the packing point of putting away knickknacks and other delicate things, Mcdonald carefully lifted a large but light photo from the wall.
The framed photograph with bubble glass and ornate framing was of a handsome young soldier. “For King and Country,” said the frame of the rosy-cheeked unnamed man in a well-pressed uniform.
Mcdonald asked her neighbour who the soldier was. Growing up in a Royal Canadian Air Force household herself, she knew this antique image must have significance.
“I don’t really know,” answered the neighbour. Mcdonald’s interest piqued and the neighbour noticed.
“I never knew my father,” she explained. It was a sore spot for her. Spending what’s crawling up to a century without a father figure has been an emptiness carried for just as long.
A few decades ago she was shopping at a thrift store. When she saw the photo of the soldier, she took him home and put him on her wall. “I would pretend he was my father.”
The soldier's service was now twice fulfilled and the neighbour was ready to let him go. Mcdonald, a genealogy and history sleuth asked if she could take him home and maybe find his.
And she did.
All that was on the back of the photo was “Pembroke.”
After doing some surface searches of war records Yvonne had narrowed down some possibilities to the young man’s identity.
She decided to post the photo on some genealogy groups to look for others' input.
“Pembroke” is very vague when it comes to the military. Is it his last name? Is Pembroke the place of military training? Is it the British Pembroke regiment?
The comment section filled up. Even I felt like popping popcorn as kindred spirits who dig for historical facts and clues with the same excitement as some mine for gold, started their work.
I put notifications on. I started searches myself. Rushing and screenshotting and saving documents just like every other historic soldier of fortune in the group.
This would be next to impossible. There was no identifying regiment. Or era. It appeared to be from World War One where 650,000 men were sent to war and 66,000 died, many without the opportunity to leave a lineage.
And that’s if the soldier was a Canadian. WWI British uniforms would be nearly identical without patches or badges.
But about a week later my notifications pinged.
Mcdonald had identified the soldier. Within seven minutes of her post, we were on the phone. Moreso, I was half screaming, thrilled, excited and impressed by Mcdonald’s commitment and skill.
The soldier is Private Hector Pembroke.
Private Pembroke, just barely 18, first joined the 94th Victoria Regiment in his hometown of Glace Bay. On December 21, 1915, he enlisted in the 106th Battalion of the Nova Scotia Rifles, now the Nova Scotia Highlanders.
Reading Hector’s war records, I find it as no surprise that his chaotic spirit continues to cause a commotion. As someone who browses the publicly available service records of old soldiers, let’s just say Private Pembroke was very busy. His paperwork has a few more pages than usual and uses much more ink than one would expect.
Within a year of his enlistment, Private Pembroke found himself in the No. 6 Special Service Company and was also discharged as medically unfit. But he wasn’t done. Private Pembroke went to Halifax on February 12, 1917. He enlisted in the 246th Battalion, now the Nova Scotia Highlanders.
On September 15, 1917, Private Pembroke, all five-footthree and 130 pounds of him, was off to England to be mobilized to France.
In the Spring of 1918, Private Pembroke survived the bombardment of artillery being blasted by the Germans. However, when the Germans followed their attack with multiple gas attacks, Pembroke breathed it in.
He would walk off the battlefield, but he would never fully recover.
Guns went silent on November 11, 1918. A month later, Hector Pembroke was demobilized and sent home. He finished his service as part of the Forestry Corps.
After the war, Hector Pembroke found himself in Drumheller, Alberta.
Hector Pembroke had left the theatre of war but his last healthy breath stayed in France.
On September 24th, 1925, Private Hector Pembroke died of pneumonia, his lungs compromised from the attacks years before.
In the December 29, 1925 edition of the Evening Mail someone would ask for the first time if anyone knew Hector Pembroke. There was a notification of his death looking for a next of kin in Halifax, who may not know that he was dead.
Ninety-nine years later Yvonne Mcdonald asked again. The post was sent to Amanda Pembroke of Glace Bay, Nova Scotia. Her great-grandfather was a cousin of Hector. And the resemblance was obvious.
Never expecting such a revelation to find her, Amanda was surprised to be approached and have Yvonne offer her the photo. She accepted. However, she is considering giving it to her brother who is interested in militaria or her sister who collects antiquities. Her siblings have children and she hopes gifting forward will keep the last remnants of Hector in the family.
The photo now is wrapped up in paper and bubble wrap and securely stored in a box.
How it made its way to the opposite side of the country that Hector Pembroke was from is a mystery. But most fitting for the soldier who went on leave when he saw fit, moved around regiments and battalions at a surprising rate.
This week Private Hector Pembroke, though just in an image, will cross the country he fought for and would eventually give his life. He will arrive back to his enlistment city of Halifax, and then be transported back home, to Glace Bay, nearly 100 years and several wars after he served in the war to end them all.