Two local lads

This is the story of two local lads; my dad and uncle. My father, Donald A. Rick (Don) was born in Kirkdale on a large dairy farm nestled against the bank of the St. Francis River a few KM downstream from Richmond. When the call came to serve his country, he and his brother Ken immediately signed up; probably as this adventure seemed more interesting than milking cows at 5 a.m.! Ken was dispatched to a RCAF manning depot in Toronto where he remained during the war years and later raised a family.

My dad joined the RCAF becoming an instrument technician and so began an interesting career for him which later influenced me. He was trained at the Royal Military College (RMC) in Kingston ON and attended courses at Queens in 1942. At that time RMC changed its focus in an effort to spin out qualitied technicians. I remember stories of “friend or foe” devices on planes, radios and later he worked at installing and implementing air born radar which was credited for saving so many lives over the Atlantic on U-boat surveillance flights. He enjoyed being on the U-boat search and destroy sorties.

Serving as an instrument technician meant you were also part of the ground crew. Those additional responsibilities included: patching up air frames to get the birds back up ASAP, refuelling, putting out fires when severely damaged craft landed and the worst job, he would recount, was using a highpressure fire hose to flush out human remains in the gun pods of returning bombers. Nasty topic but we shouldn’t forget the tremendous sacrifice these young men made for our freedom.

Dad was part of the 1st group onto the Allied friendly Azores. Air force members were dropped in to build a runway incorporating airfield matting (mesh) rolled out as a temporary runway allowing larger aircraft to bring in heavier machinery to fabricate a better surface. This was back breaking work and his body reminded him his whole life of those special opportunities while serving!

Years later upon his return to Canada and settling in Sherbrooke, there were no employment opportunities for his skills in electronics, the area was generally considered heavy industrial manufacturing including cotton & weaving mills. His first job was with a wholesale food distribution company, eventually hired by and retired from the post office in Lennoxville. Dad became one if the founding members of the A.N.A.F. group which purchased land, an existing building and then built the “Hut” in Lennoxville.

In 1975 my parents went to England; from where my mother’s parents emigrated, she was curious; dad wanted to “relive” his air force moments. When he left England in 1945, the streets were full of people waving flags and profusely thanking the Canadian veterans. Upon his return, he was expecting the crowds to still be there! Time moves on and people’s memories diminish. He was most disappointed to say the least. We can understand this but for an elderly veteran it must have been emotionally difficult to accept.

Another uncle, my mother’s brother P.O. Gordon P. Waite lived at 1 High St. in Lennoxville. My parents eventually bought a house at 33 High. Gordie was popular amongst the ladies, athlete, good student and had a promising life ahead. He worked with his father Clifford at Fairbanks Morse in Sherbrooke. When the call came, he enlisted in June 1940 with the RCAF and became a pilot officer in February 1942. His mischievous nature got him reprimanded for flying a plane under a bridge in Ottawa. He was eventually stationed in England and flew a variety of fighter aircraft on coastal patrols in England and Northern Scotland before being transferred to the Middle East. In April 1943 he failed to return from an aerial mission. He is buried in a Canadian cemetery in Egypt, age 27. We have his log book and the specific location of his burial marker. My bucket list includes a visit to his grave site to pay a well-deserved last respect from his family.

There are the silent victims of war, so often either not understood or ignored. I am told, my grandparents were never the same people after losing their one and only precious son. I grew up with an aunt Marg, she was a nurse from Sherbrooke. Someone who was there for our birthdays, Christmas and other holidays. She was in our lives for decades, never married. As a child I could not understand why we had an aunt who was not a blood member of the family. She was Gordie’s fiancé who never recovered from their loss. She was always welcomed with open arms and never forgotten, even today.

As a teenager, constantly hearing about the air force from so many veterans in the Lennoxville area, I was intrigued one night watching a movie at St. Georges Anglican Church, “The Dam Busters”. Brave crews flying bombers whose mission was to destroy three strategically vital dams in the Ruhr valley, Germany—the industrial heartland of the Third Reich. As fortune would have it, I have toured the Canadian Warplane Heritage Museum in Hamilton ON. www.warplane.com. There is a scale model of the Ruhr Valley and the dams giving one a bird’s eye view of this critical, strategic suicide mission; an extremely fortified valley. Again, one cannot forget the courage and bravery of our flying heroes. There is a book next to the model, a very large book listing all our airmen from WWII. It is mind blowing to read how many men and women signed up for this service and gave the ultimate sacrifice. A final note, the museum is home to one of the last operational Lancaster bombers in the world. One can reserve sight-seeing flights on this beautiful, historic flying machine.

Never forget

The many women who served in the air force. A few examples include:

Jackie Moggridge: Transport pilot, who received her license at age 15, flew over 1,500 missions and proficient with 38 aircraft. One of only five women ever to receiver full RAF wings in 1953.

Aleda Lutz: Flight nurse, flying over 186 missions evacuating over 3,500 men

Jean Hixson: Air force service pilot. Flew B-25 Mitchell Bombers as an engineering test pilot during WWII

The Hut

Constructed in the 1950s by veterans with foresight and vision. Readers of the Record need no introduction to the importance this facility today. As a 7-year-old child, my dad dragged me to the site one Saturday to assist volunteers laying cement blocks when building the extension. My job, shovel gravel on to a screen, sifting out sand for the mortar under the watchful eye of veteran Bud Lane, Lennoxville’s postmaster. That probably was the beginning of my interest in construction which continues today. I am not a proponent of child labour though I am happy to have served my community!

My dad received his electronics training with the air force, though he never spoke about it or encouraged me to study such. One day when I was 8 years old, I discovered in the attic, his RCAF training books. Intrigued with what could be achieved with vacuum tubes and some wire, I taught myself circuitry, made radio transmitters and other in-house listening devices, so secret my parents never knew about them for decades! Perhaps his legacy rests in these military books and were my inspiration to seek a future career in electronics and electrical engineering.

Another book in the attic was on self-defence. For memorizing this book, I was severely punished and told I must keep the knowledge secret. I will say to be brief, it’s impressive what one can do with 1 M of piano wire!

Respectfully submitted and dedicated to the many men and women who served and have made our life richer, safer and with fond memories.