Tonight I felt I should write you a letter because it’s almost November 11th. Even though you are no longer here, I feel your presence and I know you would be happy to hear Remembrance Day is still firmly planted in my heart. It was always a hallowed event in the Knight family each year and we were up with the birds that day as Grammy used to say. Mocha cakes had to be finished for the Branch #99 Legion refreshments. Shoes and medals were polished, and bodies were trying to warm up in advance for the parade.
I remember that Grampy said I should always keep a stiff upper lip and a Knight family member respects and honours our Legions and veterans. His stories of how hard life was in the cold and the muddy trenches in France during World War 1 have not been forgotten. Not one word of what he and others went through during the first World War will ever leave my mind.
Each Remembrance Day I can still hear Grampy yelling out orders during the parade: ‘left right, left right’. I was always the last one in the parade every year. I never understood why the Brownies were placed at the end and I was always pulling up the rear in my too short Brownie outfit, bare legs with knee socks, and no boots.
Standing at the Cowansville High School cenotaph freezing to death and chattering with friends each year I always got the stink eye from Grampy who was always watching me. I could never avoid his stern gaze and I knew he was telling me silently,
‘Respect, Linda, respect, remember what these men did for you’.
The solo bugle playing The Last Post would always make the odd strange noise from the cold outside on the first few notes and the freezing November breeze would circle around my legs turning them bright red. I could see tears in my Grandfather’s eyes, remembering his friends that never made it home.
Each Remembrance Day I still remember the past November 11th services. I wish for a lot of things, but now besides remembering all the veterans I pray and hope for the continuation of our local Legions. As you said Grampy:
‘I have seen war. I hate war!’
For years Grampy lived in pain from being one of the first gassed in the trenches. As he said each time he had a migraine:
‘I’ll be okay, but in the meantime I just have to hold strong’.
We are trying Grampy to hold strong, we are trying to keep these Legions solvent and the memories continious, but in the meantime we try to inherit your great examples. We remember each and every soldier who gave up so much for our freedom and ensure they are never forgotten. As you always told me, it’s not just November 11th we should remember them, but every single day, and we should honour the dead best by treating the living well.
Someone asked me why I post so much about Remembrance Day. Yes, I do post for days, and believe you me; it’s full of love. I was raised by former military men from the past wars that taught me that yes, there was crying, lots of crying, on Remembrance Day, but absolutely no shirking. NO siree! You had better be ready at dawn to march in the Cowansville, Quebec parade where your grandfather was one of the dignitaries, and your father marched in the parade with the other World War 2 vets.
I was raised on pomp and circumstance- pointe finale, as they say in French.
Every Saturday morning I would awake to rousing military marching tunes by John Philip Sousa being played on the old Hi Fi in the family living room. John Philip Sousa was an American composer and conductor of the late Romantic era, known primarily for American military and patriotic marches. I have no idea how my father Arthur J. Knight found this musical passion, but he got it from somewhere. He loved the military so much that he joined the Canadian Army during WW II, but never made it past the training session in Georgia because the war ended. I often wondered if he wanted to follow my Grandfather Fred Knight’s footsteps as he returned from the trenches in France after WW1 with medals and and a lifetime encyclopedia full of stories.
I never remember asking my father to turn the death defying volume down as he chose to crouch next to the Hi Fi speaker with his ear glued to whatever was being played. I figured if he kept it up for enough years he was going to lose his hearing– and then there was the fact that he put up with my Beatle music. No teenager would ever want to mess around with their father’s views on their music. “The Washington Post” by Sousa was his absolute favourite, and then that usually followed with the “King Cotton March” with some added piping and drumming from the Grenadier Guards thrown in for good measure. This wasn’t a passing fancy- he would listen to music, and absorb it– but you would never hear about it in his conversations. I don’t think anyone knew except for my sister and a few others.
I can remember two things in my early life,besides the music. One sitting on a bed in the Allan Memorial Centre watching my mother playing cards, who had no idea who I was. The next thing I remember is a great commotion at age 3 in my grandmother’s bedroom on the night of November 11th.- Remembrance Day.
After the days solemn occasions the Branch #99 Legion in Cowansville had a huge party that same night. Children of course were not allowed, and they spent the evening drawing tickets for various prizes among other things. I remember the bedroom being very cold as it always was because it was heated by the woodstove downstairs. My eyes were blurry and they were all crowded around me shouting that I had won a kettle at the Legion. My grandmother of course probably put my name on some tickets and here was this kettle two inches from my face being waved around. Was it to be mine?
I never did see that kettle again, except on my grandmother’s woodstove. I remember they soon turned the lights off and told me to go back to sleep. Go back to sleep? After winning a kettle at the Legion? How does one do that LOL? Anyways, there was to be no sleeping because my father had gone downstairs and turned on my grandfather’s Hi Fi and blasted the Massed Pipes and Drums throughout the house at full volume. I think that is the first time I cried hearing the pipes; more likely because I was scared. Today, and every day I remember all of those who lost their lives for us in past wars and I thank them.
“Remembrance Day is when the country stops for two minutes of silence, to pay respects to those who gave their lives and our veterans who fought for our freedom.”
—Douglas Phillips, Canadian writer
Cowansville, July 4 – The Canadian Legion, Cowansville branch, will ignaugurate Monday at 8.30 p.m., a drive to erect a fitting Cowansville Veteran’s Memorial Hall building in this city.Members of the Cowansville Branch, No. 99, of the legion are seeking premises containing necessary rooms for meetings and recreation. The site for the building has been given by Miss Nina M. Nesbitt, of Cowansville, and plans for the building have been provisionally approved.On the evening of the inauguration the speakers will be His Worship Mayor E.A. Boisvert, Maj. Gen. C.B. Price, D.S.O., D.C.M., E.D., president of the Canadian Legion, and Capt. Henry Gonthier, past provincial president.Veterans will then parade through the streets of Cowansville and a street dance will follow. The board of trustees is composed of Mayor Eugene Boisvert, L.L. Bruck, H.F. Vilas, A.G. Scott, D.J. Barker. Co-chairmen of the Cowansville Legion Memorial Hall Building Fund are, R.L. Brault and J.H. Wood, M.B.E., E.D. The president of the local legion is F.J. Knight.-The Montreal Gazette, July 6, 1946
All my sister’s children are sick with the measles, and she has a stepson 14 years old
who is now delirious. I think he had a setback, no doubt caught cold with it. I have
an idea he took a cold bath I am not sure tho’ because I heard him say that if any
one should get sick, they bathe in cold water and will always get well.
He heard some Indians talking in that fashion and no doubt believed it, because one day, I was cooking dinner and he came in the kitchen and was trying to get warm and his hair was wet. and I asked him where he had been and he said, he was down to the creek, so I scolded him because he was not well enough to go to the creek. But that is always the
way that the Indians talk, and now it will be no doubt a death to the little orphaned boy.
Her next letter of October 29 reveals that the young boy is dead. The letter is
rich with the significance of that death to her personally and talks about how
Margaret’s family purifies themselves and their property in response to that death.
What is shocking is that a white doctor is charging $50 to treat Indian patients
during the midst of an epidemic :
Measles has been raging at our house now for six long weeks. My own little niece
that lives with me has taken down for the last four days, and she is the last child of
the bunch to have it. And I hope to goodness, I never hear of measles again. My
sister had a relapse and we had to have an American doctor come up and he
charged us $50.00 for one visit, but she pulled through all right. He said she had
black measles. So we had to wean the baby, while the other two kids were sick a bed
too. “Believe me”, we had our hands full. I mean my brother in-law and I. I am in
hopes he does not get the disease. The little boy I was telling you about, my sister’s
stepson died a few days after writing to you. I am almost positive he took a cold plunge
in the creek.
You know how superstitious the Indians are. I had to clean house and rake the
yard and burn everything which the boy came in contact with. My sister wanted me
to burn the single buggy and I wouldn’t do it. So now I will only wash the thing with
rose bushes, which they claim drives the evil spirits away, of course I do not believe
all that, but I will have to do it to satisfy them. I even had to wash the milk cow with
rose bushes, so she will not fear me to milk her. Ain’t that funny, but my sister is
thoroughly Indian, more so than Julia and I. She is the one whom my aunt raised.
I told you about her before. And the funniest part of all this deal is that I feel creepy
to go outdoors alone at night.
The day that the boy died, I went to the post office, with the thought I would call
a priest to come and see him since he is of the Catholic faith, and it was night when
I was on the way home. I wasn’t thinking much of anything when I saw a bright
light flash up a tree, which attracted my attention and I saw a flimsy white form go
up towards the heavens, and then I was so frighten, even my horse was afraid, and
when I reached home, he had been dead fully half an hour and that was about the
same time. I had the presentment. Ain’t that stränge? but it is true Big Foot. The
the little boy always thought so much of me. And he knew I think that I went to town
for his interest, poor fellow. He was a very good boy. He was as innocent as a small
child. And I think God wanted him away from this evil world and took him away.
By November 19, 1917, she could write that all was finally well, although clearly
she had not yet recovered from her own near death experience.
During the severe winter of 1917–1918, many troops were housed in crowded and poorly heated wooden barracks or tents. Many recruits had experienced measles as children and were thus immune; however, many others, particularly families from the rural areas had not been infected and were immunologically susceptible. During the winter of 1917–1918, there were large outbreaks of measles and nearly 2,000 measles-related deaths, mostly in mobilization camps and aboard troopships bound for Europe. Most measles-related deaths among soldiers were caused by secondary bacterial pneumonias.
MOURNING DOVE’S CANADIAN RECOVERY YEARS, 1917-1919
By 1917, Britain had over a million horses and mules in service, but harsh conditions, especially during winter, resulted in heavy losses, particularly amongst the Clydesdale horses, the main breed used to haul the guns.
How Many Canadian Horses were killed in World War 1
Col. Harry Baker, the only MP killed in action in the First World War. He was the member of Parliament for Brome, Que. Canada sent about 130,000 horses overseas during the First World War, according to Steve Harris, chief historian of the directorate of history and heritage at the Department of National Defence
How many horses were killed in the First World War?
Eight million horses, donkeys and mules died in World War I, three-quarters of them from the extreme conditions they worked in.
A war horse is often thought of as a huge cavalry charger or a smart officer’s mount. But during the First World War (1914-18), horses’ roles were much more varied. Their contribution included carrying and pulling supplies, ammunition, artillery and even the wounded. Without these hard-working animals, the Army could not have functioned.
The “pack horse was more important than the cavalry charger” in the First World War, noted Cook, pointing out that moving supplies of food and ammunition to the front lines was a constant need whereas waves of armed riders on galloping horses — both virtually defenceless against machine guns — had mostly become a thing of the past.
The film version of War Horse, he added, is sure to offer Canadians an informative glimpse of a little-remembered feature of the First World War.
Thousands of horses pulled field guns; six to 12 horses were required to pull each gun.
Eight million horses, donkeys and mules died in the First World War, three-quarters of them from the extreme conditions they worked in.
At the start of the war, the British Army had 25,000 horses. Another 115,000 were purchased compulsorily under the Horse Mobilization Scheme.
Over the course of the war, between 500 and 1,000 horses were shipped to Europe every day.
Dummy horses were sometimes used to deceive the enemy into misreading the location of troops.
Many horses were initially used as traditional cavalry horses but their vulnerability to modern machine gun and artillery fire meant their role changed to transporting troops and ammunition.
Veterinarians treated 2.5 million horses; two million recovered and returned to the battlefield.
The British Army Veterinary Corp hospitals in France cared for 725,000 horses and successfully treated three-quarters of them. A typical horse hospital could treat 2,000 animals at any one time.
Well-bred horses were more likely to suffer from shell shock and be affected by the sights and sounds of battle than less-refined compatriots.
Horses on the front line could be taught to lie down and take cover at the sound of artillery fire.
In muddy conditions, it could take up to 12 hours to clean a horse and the harness.
One-quarter of all deaths were due to gunfire and gas; exhaustion and disease claimed the rest.
Horse fodder was the single largest commodity shipped to the front by some countries, including Britain.
Fearing their horses would face terrible and terrifying conditions at war, some owners took the drastic measure of humanely putting their animals down before the army could seize them.
In a single day during the 1916 Battle of Verdun, 7,000 horses from both sides were killed by long-range shelling, including 97 killed by single shots from a French naval gun.
Losses were particularly heavy among Clydesdale horses, which were used to haul guns.
Britain lost over 484,000 horses — one horse for every two men.
Horses were considered so valuable that if a soldier’s horse was killed or died he was required to cut off a hoof and bring it back to his commanding officer to prove that the two had not simply become separated.
I could not help but notice in your list of those who made the ultimate sacrifice in World War II, an error in a family name That is the name of Frank Cavers, misspelled as Frank (The C Cavers name has become familiar to me because of a visit to the Cavers family home here in Ramsay recently. The farm holds a great deal of interest for me and I have come to learn a little of the people who lived there. Fortunately their history is fairly recent and easily obtainable. It is through this interest that my attention was drawn to your list of men and noticed that Frank Cavers was not remembered. Please let us give proper credit where it is due. Yours truly, Daphne Stevens Carp
November 1980- Almonte Gazette
Author’s Note: When I came upon this letter to the editor from 1980 I knew Frank Caver had to be documented for posterity.
CANADIAN VIRTUAL WAR MEMORIAL
Robert Franklin Cavers
In memory of:
Warrant Officer Class II Robert Franklin Cavers
March 23, 1943Yarmouth, Nova Scotia
Royal Canadian Air ForceCitation(s):
1939-45 Star, Atlantic Star, War Medal 1939-45, Canadian Volunteer Service Medal and Clasp.
April 23, 1916 Appleton, OntarioEnlistment:
March 14, 1941 Vancouver, British Columbia
Son of Thomas Edgar and Bessie May (nee McNabb) Cavers, of Almonte, Ontario. Brother of Harold, Melville and Agnes.
1957, Thursday January 10, The Almonte Gazette, page 6 Obituary THOMAS EDGAR CAVERS The funeral of Thomas Edgar Cavers took place December 26th from the Fleming Bros. Funeral Home, Lake Ave. West, Carleton Place to the United Cemetery for interment. Rev. J. Ray Anderson of Almonte conducted the service. Mr. Cavers died in the R. M. Hospital, Almonte, on December 23 after a short illness. He was 74 years of age and was born February 9th, 1882 in Ramsay Township, son of the late Thomas Cavers and his wife, Margaret Miller Thom. He had farmed for years in Ramsay and attended Appleton United Church. He was married in June, 1915, to the former Bessie May McNab. Surviving besides his widow are two sons, Harold of Toronto; Melville of Almonte, a daughter (Agnes), Mrs. Tudor of Perth, a brother, James of Carleton Place and a half sister, Miss Margaret Cavers of Almonte. The pallbearers were Messrs. Ollie Stewart, Victor Kellough, Duncan Stewart, Stewart Cavers, John Lowe and Edward Lowe. Among the beautiful floral tributes were pieces from Almonte Legion, Weaving Room of Collie’s mill, Appleton W.I.. Appleton W.A
Bessie May McNabb Cavers
23 May 1892Carleton Place, Lanark County, Ontario, Canada
18 Apr 1980 (aged 87)Carleton Place, Lanark County, Ontario, Canada
1980, Wednesday May 7, The Almonte Gazette, page 2 Bessie May McNabb Cavers, Nel-Gor Castle Nursing Home, Carleton Place, died April 18, at the age of 87 Mrs Cavers was born May 23, 1892. in Ramsay township, the daughter of the late David McNabb and Agnes Kellough On June 30. 1915, she married the late Thomas Edgar Cavers, a farmer, in Appleton Mrs Cavers was a member of Zion Memorial United Church, a charter member of the Appleton Women’s Institute, and a life member of the Ladies Auxiliary of the Royal Canadian Legion, branch 240 She was the mother of the late Frank and Harold Cavers, and the sister of the late David, George, and Welland McNabb. Mrs Cavers is survived by her daughter Agnes Tudor, of Toronto, and her son Melville Cavers, of Almonte A public funeral was held April 21 from the Alan Barker Funeral Home The service was conducted by Reverend Mitchell. Burial took place at the United Cemeteries. Ashton Mrs Cavers pallbearers were Tom Proctor, Delbert Barr, Art Fulton, Doug Stewart, Bert McRae, and Bill Struthers
From the North Lanark Museum ( Appleton)
Only two years after the Collie Woollen Mills began production World War Two began. The war was a major boost to the local economy. The mill shifted to 24 hour a day production in order to fill the military contracts. The mill produced woollens for uniforms, blankets and other military needs.
The war deeply affected the community of Appleton as sons and daughters enlisted to protect their country while families worked extra shifts at the mill
When the war was over, the community prepared an honor roll that hung in the Appleton Community Hall. The honor roll now resides at the North Lanark Regional Museum in Appleton:
This honor roll, which hung in the Appleton Community Hall until it was destroyed by fire, commemorates those Appleton residents who volunteered for active service during World War II. A silver star denotes those soldiers who gave their lives.
Frank Cavers (*)
Robert Duncan (*)
William B. Hopkins
Russell James (*)
James Pye (*)
Rank: Warrant Officer Class II Trade: Air Gunner Service No: R/97637 Date of Death: 23/03/1943 Age: 26 Regiment/Service: Royal Canadian Air Force, #113 Bomber Reconnaissance Squadron (Yarmouth,, Nova Scotia) Citation(s): 1939-45 Star, Atlantic Star, War Medal 1939-45, Canadian Volunteer Service Medal and Clasp
Killed at Yarmouth airport, N.S., with 3 other aircrew, when their plane crashed after take-off and then exploded. Son of Thomas Edgar and Bessie Cavers, of Almonte.
The following is a letter from Second Lieut. H. A. Powell, to his uncle and aunt, Mr. and Mrs. Samuel H. Lowry, of Pakenham.
“At present I am in a very nice place and a good many miles behind the lines. We are busy building roads. My company is all steam so I am right at home. I have thirty steam wagons, fifteen Fodens non-trippers, 13 Sentinel Hydraulic tip and two Garret’s screw tippers. So you see I have a pick and choice. Their capacity is 5 to 8 tons, without trailers. The Sentinel wagons are 70 horse power poppet valve engines. Speed five to twenty miles an hour. Just now we are trying some plan to keep the frost away from the pumps but I think we will succeed. Yesterday I was at a steam conference and arguments were comical, mostly by men who only knew the difference between steam and petrol engines by seeing the smoke and steam.
The weather has been very wet for some time but now it is clear and cold, but not too cold for comfort. I have a very fine billet with a French count, his wife and daughter. They are extra well educated people and much different to most of the people I have met. Well, I suppose you have heard that I got married last 30th Oct. to a girl in London. We had a fine time at the wedding and went to Ventnor, Isle of Wight, for our short trip. We were married in St. Mary’s Cathedral, West Ealing, and then went to lunch at the Frocaden Hotel, supposed to be the finest place in London. My best man was a Capt. Harry Driver, Bachelor of Science, D.S.O. and M.C., the two bridesmaids were Dimple and Winnie Middleton, daughter of a multi-millionaire. Their father is manager of the Universal Motor Co., Universal Insurance Co. (automobiles), and a large stockholder in the Phoenix Life Insurance Co. He gave us our lunch, also supplied all the cars to take us to church and back. Flo has been his secretary for ten years and two months.
She still goes up two days a week to look after the paying of the men and do the banking. I expect to leave here some time soon to take over the duties of workshop officers at a base shop. I will be in charge of repairs to Caterpillar and Foster Daimler engines. I have passed all my tests as a work shop officer and the knowledge will be very useful in civil life. It is hard to say when we will finish up out here but I may be home in the fall of 1919. Fighting may finish next fall but it is hard to say.”
Hi Linda, I’m sending a pic of Pt Norman Turner, from Almonte who had emigrated from England with his family in 1912.
He was brother of Edna Fraser who with her husband, Gordon, ran Fraser’s Snack Bar. (see Community Comments — Memories of 46 Queen Street.) Norman enlisted at Montreal with his best friend, Leslie Owrid was also from Almonte. Norman was shot and Les killed during the horrendous gas raid March 1917.
Les’ name is on the Vimy Memorial. Norman was shipped from the field hospital to Aldershot, then sent to Kingston War Hospital where he met and married his nurse.
I have a letter also that was sent from Norman after he was shot, from the field hospital. Edna, his sister, was my grandmother. Another soldier had to rewrite it for him because it was near illegible, writing with his wrong hand. He was shot from behind, went through his arm, which severed the main nerve so he lost the use of his arm permanently.
The Turners emigrated from Yorkshire, England a month before the Titanic sank. Edna was chosen to recite the Sinking of the Titanic to a packed Almonte Town Hall. If you’re interested, I can send you a copy of the letter. It describes in-depth the the day, much like the chapter in Pierre Burton’s book. Thanks very much for posting the pics tomorrow. Norman never got over losing Les. He died at 45 in Kingston from malnutrition.
Canada’s most impressive tribute overseas to those Canadians who fought and gave their lives in the First World War is the majestic and inspiring Vimy Memorial, which overlooks the Douai Plain from the highest point of Vimy Ridge, about eight kilometres northeast of Arras on the N17 towards Lens. The Memorial is signposted from this road to the left, just before you enter the village of Vimy from the south. The memorial itself is someway inside the memorial park, but again it is well signposted. At the base of the memorial, these words appear in French and in English:TO THE VALOUR OF THEIR COUNTRYMEN IN THE GREAT WAR AND IN MEMORY OF THEIR SIXTY THOUSAND DEAD THIS MONUMENT IS RAISED BY THE PEOPLE OF CANADA
Inscribed on the ramparts of the Vimy Memorial are the names of over 11,000 Canadian soldiers who were posted as ‘missing, presumed dead’ in France. A plaque at the entrance to the memorial states that the land for the battlefield park, 91.18 hectares in extent, was ‘the free gift in perpetuity of the French nation to the people of Canada’. Construction of the massive work began in 1925, and 11 years later, on July 26, 1936, the monument was unveiled by King Edward VIII. The park surrounding the Vimy Memorial was created by horticultural experts. Canadian trees and shrubs were planted in great masses to resemble the woods and forests of Canada. Wooded parklands surround the grassy slopes of the approaches around the Vimy Memorial. Trenches and tunnels have been restored and preserved and the visitor can picture the magnitude of the task that faced the Canadian Corps on that distant dawn when history was made. On April 3, 2003, the Government of Canada designated April 9th of each year as a national day of remembrance of the Battle of Vimy Ridge.-Information courtesy of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission.
Hi Linda : I found this in the my dads old scrapbook and thought it was a good time to send it just prior to Remembrance Day . I found my dad in both articles as he served with the RCAF in England . Roger Rattray
Sandra Rattray My husband ‘s father, Howard Rattray, and his father, John Rattray and their predecessors, owned part of Indians’ Landing. The story that was passed down was that the Indians used to trade their furs in there (at the former Patterson’s Furniture Store and Funeral Home or embalming room) This was common knowledge to many of the older locals-The Little Door by the River
To help people stay healthy while rationing food, the government put together Canada’s Official Food Rules, that told people how much of each of the six food groups — milk, cereals and bread, meat, fruits and vegetables, fish and eggs — they should eat every day. You know it today as the Canada Food Guide.
These cards above permitted Mrs. McColl of Carleton Place to purchase rationed food from a local shop. Eleven million ration cards (lead image) were issued in Canada. Inside there were coupons issued for such things as sugar, butter and meat
People were willing to deal with it because we were very clearly attacked by another nation’s military and were presented and for Canadians, it was the ultimate exercise in sharing. Since Great Britain was virtually cut off, our food exports provided an essential lifeline to the mother country. By the end of the war Canadian exports accounted for 57 per cent of all wheat and flour, 39 percent of bacon, 24 percent of cheese, and 15 percent of eggs consumed in Britain.
I don’t think vegetables were rationed as they didn’t require much resources to cultivate them (no grain to feed them, etc), and they started the dig for victory project which increased the amount of ground growing food dramatically (basically anywhere that was a decent patch of soil was use for planting). People got inventive, things like carrot cake were popular (grow your own carrots).
Weekly ration for 1 adult (~1944)
Bacon & Ham
~ 1/2 lb minced beef
1 lb every 2 months
1 fresh egg per week
12 oz every 4 weeks
Here, the past, and its culinary turns, could be more instructive then we might think. Certainly puts things into perspective, doesn’t it?
Frugal Wartime Recipes to See You Through Challenging Times!
The more I think about it the more I think it’s a terrible, terrible thing. I think about war a lot and I think about how all over our world it has effected every day families regardless of colour or creed.
I made these WWII ‘Glory Buns’ today after I had observed the Remembrance Day silence and while I listened to the full Remembrance Day service from Bridgewater, Nova Scotia, on my local radio station, CKBW.
First of all I listened to Pierre Allaine
Pierre Allaine: Was a 14 year old when war broke out. He used to ferry people, lying flat on a barge during the night, across the river, by pushing the barge silently with a long pole to the free side of France. Pierre recited Flanders Field at the service in Bridgewater today.
Next I watched Frank Hammond who shared his thoughts… Quote: Conflicts today are not being resolved through power and the only real way is through negotiation…
And then Bert Eagle… Quote: Bert Eagle: There should NEVER be another war again, EVER, yet if I were a young man again and we went to war I would serve my country gladly…..
Above all I’ve been thinking of the BRAVE men and women who have taken part in a war and lived through it or given their lives and the BRAVE families at home battling to keep their children safe and fed and holding things together…
And the Glory Buns? It was such a glorious day that it needed to be celebrated with simple glorious food on my best glorious tray….. it reminded me just how lucky we really are.
Recipe for Glory Buns
12 oz of wholewheat flour (or white)
2 oz margarine
2 oz sultanas/currants/raisins (optional)
2 oz sugar
8 fl oz warm water
3 teaspoons of quick rise dried yeast
1 teaspoon dried cinnamon powder
3 tablespoons water
3 tablespoons sugar
Method Place all the dried ingredients in a bowl (apart from dried fruit) and stir Rub in the margarine Mix in the dried fruit Add in the warm water Knead well (use extra flour if mixture is too sticky) Divide dough into 12 balls Place on greased deep sided tray (I like to use the 8 x 8 inch foil trays and place 4 balls in each) Cover with plastic film or plastic bag Leave to rise somewhere warm for an hour or so When risen place in oven at 180 C for 15 minutes or so until golden brown When cooked remove from oven onto a wire rack to cool When cool prepare glaze by heating the water and sugar together until dissolved Using a pastry brush apply the glaze generously
The street that connects Coleman Street to the new subdivision near Walmart has a name now: Christie Street, in honour of a young man who played an unusual role in the history of Carleton Place before he died in battle in 1917.
He was John H. H. (for Hatchell Halliday) Christie, who came to the town, and to Canada, to be a student minister at the Methodist Church on Franklin Street (what’s now Zion-Memorial United Church). He was born in Ireland, in a village called Glenavy in County Antrim, and interrupted his studies to cross the ocean to help meet an urgent need.
It was a difficult time for churches in Canada, with the population growing faster than the church leadership could find ministers to look after them. The problem was worst in the western provinces, and would continue until three denominations merged to create
the United Church in 1925, but the shortage hit home in Carleton Place when Dr. J. H. Sparling, the well-liked Methodist minister, died suddenly. (To be precise, he dropped dead while out on a bicycle ride.)
The best that could be arranged for a replacement was John Christie, the 23-year-old student who came over to serve as the congregation’s minister. He was quickly very popular, perhaps especially with the mothers of daughters, and he was well known
for his charming tenor voice. Someone noted that one of his favourite hymns was “When the Roll Is Called Up Yonder”. But World War I was starting, and within a year the roll call he was answering was that of the Canadian Army Medical Corps. He headed back across the Atlantic with the Canadian Expeditionary.
Force; starting out as a private, he was soon a corporal, then commissioned as a lieutenant, and in early 1917 he was assigned to the 2nd Canadian Mounted Rifles. Within three weeks he was dead, killed near the village of Givenchy-en-Gohelle during the Battle of Vimy Ridge in April 1917.
John Christie was one of five young men from Carleton Place who never returned from Vimy. He and other fallen soldiers were remembered at a service in the Methodist Church, where the four men’s photos were displayed at the front of the sanctuary, wrapped in a Union Jack. His body was buried in La Chaudière military cemetery near Vimy.
John Hatchell Halliday Christie
2nd Canadian Mounted Rifles Battalion
10th April 1917, aged 25.
Plot VII. C. 2.
Son of the Rev. William John Christie and Emma Jane Halliday Christie, of Barnbidge, Ireland.
It took until 1918 before the Methodist church found a new minister. After the war, in the 1920s, the area near the corner of Franklin and Beckwith Streets, which had been standing empty since Carleton Place’s great fire in 1910, was developed as Memorial Park. And when the Cenotaph was put up there, one of the names engraved on it was that of the Rev. John Christie.
Newspaper Clipping – From the Perth Courier for 4 May 1917
Lt. Rev. John Hatchell Halliday Christie was 25 years of age when he lost his life on the second day of the Battle at Vimy Ridge. He too is buried in a Canadian war cemetery in France.