A FAMILY LEGACY
Recounting the life and times of a man who served his country proudly
One contributor recounts the life and times of a father who served his country proudly.
Iam writing this story for my grandkids, Theo and Colette, to tell them about my father, their great-grandfather, and how a certain old pair of gloves came to be hanging on my wall:
PETER’S STORY
Your great-grandfather’s name was Peter and he was an adventurous young Englishman in the 1930s, who dreamed of coming to Canada. He set out with his best friend, Pat Wright, and together they got on a boat and sailed to Eastern Canada. They then rode the rails, along with many others, to Alberta. Those were tough times back then, but they built a log cabin and started homesteading at Bear Lake, near current day Grande Prairie. War broke out in 1939 and Peter and Pat, both 25 years old, hitchhiked to Winnipeg where they enlisted in the Canadian army. Peter joined the Queen’s Own Cameron Highlanders. Shipped by troop carrier to England, they trained for the day they
would be called upon to fight. The Cameron Highlanders took part in the Dieppe Raid in August 1942; Peter was one of the very lucky ones to fight, survive and return to England. Less than half of his friends ever returned. In June 1943, Peter married his childhood sweetheart, your great-grandmother Joy, but had to leave her behind in London as his training carried on. Later he went ashore on Juno Beach in Normandy and fought through the liberation of Holland, finally halting in Germany as the war ended. He had been promoted to major by then, and was second in command. Later, he had an audience with the King and was awarded the title “Member of the British Empire.”
After the war, things went badly in England. There was no housing for the young couple and jobs were scarce. They immigrated to South Africa for a couple of years, but didn’t like the political situation, so decided to settle permanently in Canada. They had enough money for the voyage by ship, and then, with two small kids in hand, took the train to Winnipeg, where Peter got a job in Shay’s Brewery. It didn’t last, as the Red River flooded its banks and Peter volunteered to leave to fill sandbags. Their own home was ruined in the flood, and the only thing they salvaged was that old dining room table that my sister, your greataunt, has in her home.
A friend came to their rescue and loaned them money to move to Vancouver where Peter and Joy worked, raised a family and lived peacefully until they both passed away.
THE GLOVES
Now about those gloves. They’re a lovely pair, beaded and fringed moose hide. They were given to Peter by his grateful First Nations neighbours in Bear Lake. He had helped out by using an auger to drill a fishing hole in the thick lake ice during the winter. With a fine wide hole in the ice, people could take fish from the lake once again.
I knew nothing about those gloves until my cousin, Martin, a farmer in Manitoba, mentioned them to me one day last year:
“I’ve got this pair of your dad’s gloves hanging on my wall. He had given them to my mom (Dad’s sister) years earlier. Do you want them?”
“Yes,” I eagerly replied. Martin shipped them to me and they are now proudly displayed on our wall.
Theo and Colette, look for those gloves on the wall next time you visit. They serve as a visual reminder of our collective past, and a link between generations. We’ll look at those old black-and-white photos together, and I’ll tell you the story of your great-grandfather. Lest we forget.