It's the day of the year, where we remember the sacrifices made by people in the past, and now, in the present. While I remember people from other wars, this day always makes me focus on WWII.
Both of my grandfathers were involved in the war, but very differently. One was in the military, the other a conscientious objector.
My mom's dad served in the war. He was a farm boy from Melfort, SK... most boys/men from that area went and served. He couldn't be a regular soldier: they found a heart murmur that should've removed him from serving. Somehow (and we'll never know how), he convinced them he could drive truck overseas. He followed units in Greece, Italy and the UK. All of this, I learned after he died. He died when I was 12, and was told he served only when I was 10 or 11. He became an alcoholic due to his experiences, and apparently only told war stories when he was drunk and with other vets. He must've had PTSD, but no one dealt with it then. He was proud to have served (he always marched at Sask Place when he could) but refused to talk about it. He always said the only good thing that came from the war was meeting Grandma, when her mother billeted him in Scotland.
My other grandfather has a vastly different story, and really, my grandmother was part of it too. Dad's dad was a devout Mennonite, which means in this case he was a pacifist. Under no circumstances would a Mennonite man ever give military service (this pacifism is one of the reasons Mennonites were persecuted throughout Europe for centuries). Obviously, when conscription came about, this wouldn't work. The government solution? Send them to work camps. The history is fuzzy - little research or records (hmm, coverup. Imagine that). However, my understanding is these were almost voluntary internment camps. They had done something similar in the 30's to keep single men from rioting during the depression. My grandparents moved to Love, SK to work in labour camps. This allowed the men to not serve, yet be "productive." There are a few pictures of my grandfather hunched over a huge saw in the forest. I know some of Dad's siblings were alive/born in that time. These grandparents were a bit more open - they talked about living in/near Nipawin, but never why they moved. I guess silence was the way to deal with things...
Both of these experiences shaped my grandparents' lives, way of thinking, and in turn affected my parents. Mom's parents dealt with the alcoholism, stress of being a foreign wife in a "godforsaken prairie" (within two years, my grandmother slept through a tornado that destroyed the house around them), and general life struggles. Dad's parents had 11 children, living on a farm, raised in religion, but Grandpa was always a bit contemptuous about the government. When a scandal of sorts happened at their church, instead of confronting it, my grandparents stopped attending. How much of that reaction was due to personalities, and how much was due to the past? Again, because no one told the stories, we'll never really know.
I have other things to post, but I won't wreck the intregity.
Thank you Grandpa, Papa, for your role in creating the world I enjoy now.
Lest we forget.
Both of my grandfathers were involved in the war, but very differently. One was in the military, the other a conscientious objector.
My mom's dad served in the war. He was a farm boy from Melfort, SK... most boys/men from that area went and served. He couldn't be a regular soldier: they found a heart murmur that should've removed him from serving. Somehow (and we'll never know how), he convinced them he could drive truck overseas. He followed units in Greece, Italy and the UK. All of this, I learned after he died. He died when I was 12, and was told he served only when I was 10 or 11. He became an alcoholic due to his experiences, and apparently only told war stories when he was drunk and with other vets. He must've had PTSD, but no one dealt with it then. He was proud to have served (he always marched at Sask Place when he could) but refused to talk about it. He always said the only good thing that came from the war was meeting Grandma, when her mother billeted him in Scotland.
My other grandfather has a vastly different story, and really, my grandmother was part of it too. Dad's dad was a devout Mennonite, which means in this case he was a pacifist. Under no circumstances would a Mennonite man ever give military service (this pacifism is one of the reasons Mennonites were persecuted throughout Europe for centuries). Obviously, when conscription came about, this wouldn't work. The government solution? Send them to work camps. The history is fuzzy - little research or records (hmm, coverup. Imagine that). However, my understanding is these were almost voluntary internment camps. They had done something similar in the 30's to keep single men from rioting during the depression. My grandparents moved to Love, SK to work in labour camps. This allowed the men to not serve, yet be "productive." There are a few pictures of my grandfather hunched over a huge saw in the forest. I know some of Dad's siblings were alive/born in that time. These grandparents were a bit more open - they talked about living in/near Nipawin, but never why they moved. I guess silence was the way to deal with things...
Both of these experiences shaped my grandparents' lives, way of thinking, and in turn affected my parents. Mom's parents dealt with the alcoholism, stress of being a foreign wife in a "godforsaken prairie" (within two years, my grandmother slept through a tornado that destroyed the house around them), and general life struggles. Dad's parents had 11 children, living on a farm, raised in religion, but Grandpa was always a bit contemptuous about the government. When a scandal of sorts happened at their church, instead of confronting it, my grandparents stopped attending. How much of that reaction was due to personalities, and how much was due to the past? Again, because no one told the stories, we'll never really know.
I have other things to post, but I won't wreck the intregity.
Thank you Grandpa, Papa, for your role in creating the world I enjoy now.
Lest we forget.
Thank you for these stories. My family avoids talking about the past, too, but there are so many stories I wish I knew. I'm going to start asking more questions. Each tid-bit they share is a gem in itself. :) Thanks.
ReplyDelete