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happiness

Just a Thought at Twilight (A poem by Edna)

Just a Thought at Twilight When my Spirit’s Low

Music is throbbing in my ears

A Christian hymn sung at twilight

Faintly it dies with the breeze then nears

As the human notes gain in might

It’s Sunday evening and the first day of May

I’m thinking of my home in the foothills

And I wish I were there to enjoy this day

Where the meadowlarks voice throbs and trills

The city has many large and magnificent churches

Where the people gather in crowds to worship God for an hour or two

But all day in the country where’er your eye searches

Your heart humbly praises the Master of the picturesque view

I wish I were back to my kinfolk again

And to the hills and the mountains dear

To help plow the fields and to plant the rich grain

Which feeds all these mouths who at the farmers sneer

(On the back is written: Please return to me because this is the only copy I’ve got and I have promised to send Jean all my attempts at poetry. E.A.B.)

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Cochrane Hill – a poem by Edna

Grandma sure loved her hometown. She told so many stories , sharing her love for the little village where she was born, that is now a small city pretending to be a town. I am not sure when this poem was written, it was found with articles from the 1920s, but this was typed out, so I’m assuming it was later on that that. However, if Grandma could see now “the hill, now streamlined to follow the mode, as tourists go speeding….” It certainly isn’t anything resembling a cow trail anymore. The mountains and the view though, they’re the same. It’s still a beautiful little area, it’s home.

Cochrane Hill

The foothill country in the days that are gone,

Had trails that led you hither and yon.

And many a well worn path was trod,

Till great, deep ruts were buried in sod.

One of those trails is history now,

A trail that’s not forgotten somehow.

It’s a long, long slope that curves until

You know you’re descending the Cochrane Hill.

The hill, now streamlined to follow the mode,

As tourists go speeding where Natives once rode,

No more is a cow trail, but a road that will last

Though present day traffic is heavy and fast.

Decending this hill you come into view

Of the beautiful Bow, all misty with dew.

And the Rockies, majestic, mighty and tall.

Truly a sight remembered by all.

You may like the view from a plane in the air,

Or even the view from a Pullman chair.

But just about sunrise when morn is so still,

Oh give me the view from Cochrane Hill.

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Let’s Laugh Folks: Cochrane Eye Opener

Here are a couple more excerpts from the 1927 copy of the Cochrane Eye Opener. Grandma would have been 19 when this was published. As you can tell, it was some very serious journalism. I’m actually a huge fan of this kind of journalism.

Let’s Laugh Folks

Have you ever tried this dish?

Mrs W. Andison asked her husband to copy the radio recipe one morning. Mr. Andison’s did her best but got two stations at once. One was broadcasting the morning exercises, the other the recipe. This is what he got:Hands on hips, place one cup of flour on shoulders. Raise knees and depressed toes, and wash thoroughly in one half cup of milk. In four counts raise the lower legs and mash two hard boiled eggs in a sieve. Repeat six times. Inhale one half teaspoon of Baking Powder and one cup of flour, breathe naturally and inhaled and sift. Attention: Jump to a squatting position and bend white of egg backwards and forward over head and in four counts make a stiff dough that will stretch at the waist. Lie flat on the flour and roll into a marble the size of a walnut. Hop to a standstill in boiling water but do not boil into a gallop. In ten minutes remove from fire and dry with a towel. Breathe naturally, dress in warm flannels and serve with fish soup.

Here’s another article:

Locals:

We notice Santa has supplied the Cochrane Hardware store with a generous supply of beautiful toys and gifts! For those who have a sweet tooth there are chocolates and _____ candies are now artistically displayed in Allan’s Confectionary and all other signs of Christmas and suitable gifts for the occasion can be seen in the other stores.

We are glad to report that Mrs Turner is progressing favourably, being able to go back to the city on Saturday last.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year Folks!!!!!!!

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Love at first sight – a Percy Story

This holiday season I’m watching all the cheesy romantic Christmas movies, but I have to say they’ve got nothing on my Grandparents.

People often discuss their opinions regarding the question: what is a life well lived? I gotta say, reading my Grandpa describe his family life here, this to me seems like the best answer I’ve seen so far to that question. This, this is a life well lived. He accomplished a lot in his career as a rancher, but what he mentions here isn’t that at all. It’s only about his family and what he and my Grandma built there.

I’m shocked it’s taken me this long to find anything mentioned anywhere about Grandma’s teacup readings. She was so good at it, and did make up some pretty great stories on the spot about what she saw in the leaves.

One night on the dance floor in Cochrane, I was dancing with a girl whom I had known for a long time, Edna Brown. Something came over me at that time and as the saying goes I was never the same again. We were married two years later on the 11th of November, 1931. We took a short honeymoon to the coast. I had already built a cottage with a full basement consisting of 2 bedrooms and bath plus a kitchen and living room close by my Dad’s home. Mr Frank Fletcher from Cochrane helped to build it. We raised a family of three- Sheila, Marshall, and Margi, whom we are very proud of and they in turn all have families. They also had to ride to school just like I did which I think made them rather resourceful people as they had to look after their own welfare from the time they left home in the owning until they returned in the evening. No bus driver to do this.

Edna has been a very patient and loving wife and has stood by in several trials such as the time Margi got polio and we were almost beat for two years before there was any sure course to take. Margie was eleven years old at the time and through sheer determination she kept up with her studies and be a mobile person again.

Edna is called Grandma now, and is sure a big wheel in the Grandma world. I consider myself very fortunate to marry such a girl as she contributed so much to my happiness as well as success in my ranching career. We are living alone once more, a little lonely perhaps sometimes, but still have good health and many happy thoughts of bygone days. Our grandchildren do visit us quite often and this certainly does liven things up. Grandma is good at reading teacups and how she thinks of the big whoppers to tell is more than I can say.

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The Police were waiting for me (a Percy story)

I have discovered Grandpa’s written history. In his handwriting, which is some of the most beautiful handwriting (I’ve enclosed a sample at the bottom of this post.) I am presently reading/transcribing his description of how he built the barn that still is used here today, but this little story came right before and I quite enjoyed it.

Imagine driving cattle from Jumping Pound into Calgary and down Macleod Trail these days? Even back then, what a long ride!

Every fall we would ship our steers from Cochrane to wherever their destination was. These were usually three year old. Everything would be nice and quiet until we came to the bridge that crosses the Bow River. There was always trouble as they refused for a long time before deciding to go on the bridge. One year they absolutely refused and swam across below the bridge. The buyer was a tight fisted character and when we corralled them at the stockyards he accused me of watering them before they were weighed.

During the thirties when prices were low we sold to a feeder in Calgary and to save freight charges we trailed the steers to Calgary. Mr. W. Mackie had a feedlot in East Calgary close by the government elevators. He sent a drover Bert Bishop out to meet us on the outskirts of the city and steer us through the city to the feedlot. The cattle were getting more and more excited as we neared the residential districts and I remember Bert Bishop saying that all that needs to happen now is some lady comes out and shake her tablecloth. We crossed them on the bridge at Elbow Park and when turning the corner to approach the bridge there was a new house with newly made lawn and nice rope fence around it. We got the first few head around alright but those following up cut across the corner and what a mess they made of that lawn and fence.

The McLeod Trail was the next hurdle but we eventually got to the feedlot in good time. Upon arriving, Mr Mackie was waiting for us and also a policeman. Mr Mackie said the Police were waiting for me and I said I was not a bit surprised. However, he was just a personal friend. The occupants of the nice lawn etc must have been away at the time because I never did hear from them.

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Letters from “Jack the Soldier” during WWII – the last letter

This is the last letter from Jack. I’m left with so many unanswered questions. Did he survive the war? What happened to baby Julie (who would be 80ish now)? Did Eileen and Julie move to Canada to be with him? Real life, unlike TV shows and books doesn’t seem to wrap endings up in nice little bows so you know how things go.

I’ve included some photos at the end, but also there’s a post card kind of letter that was sent only 3 days after he sent this – what I’m assuming last – letter here to my grandparents. It’s definitely a different kind of letter .

I’ll miss Jack and his letters. These have been a real surprise for me and I’ve felt honoured to be able to read them and share them.

God Bless you Jack. Thank you for your service.

CPL J.S. Martin

6 Platoon Support Coy

Calgary HIghlanders

C.A.O.

20th Oct. 1944

Holland

Dear Folks

Here I am again with a little news from out here. Things have been a little static lately, and we are sitting tight at present. So there hasn’t been a great deal of excitement, at least not for me.

If the weather would clear up, it would help a great deal, but it rains very eerily at this time of year here, not only is it miserable for us infantry men, but it holds up the typhoons.

Gee you should see these boys go in. They really blast them again and after being in England so long and seeing the Jerry bombs come and go, and the long range guns from Calais bombard the costal towns, I just love it. I bet they make Jerry wonder why he ever started this war.

The papers have been full lately of how soon the war will finish, but it wouldn’t surprise me to see it go on until after the New Year. I would like to be home for Christmas, but I’m not very hopeful.

I am keeping very well at present, and doing fine. I guess you will be surprised at my splurge of writing as this is my third letter to you within a week. But seeing that at present I am not very busy, I thought it would be a good idea to catch up on my letter writing. I was sorry to hear about you being in hospital. I hope it wasn’t very serious and that you are all better now. The parcel you mentioned sending with shaving soap etc hasn’t arrived yet. Hope it comes along as I am just about out.

I hear them calling to come and get it. So I guess I had better hustle and draw my hardtack.

Will write you again soon. Hoping everyone is well and that this will be over soon.

Blessings to all

Sincerely

Jack

I’m assuming this is their wedding photo.
This seems to be a photo of Daddy Jack with Baby Julie
Proud Daddy Jack and Baby Julie
Assuming this is Julie and Jack and a whole bunch of turkeys
I think this is Jack but I’m not sure
Back of photo: Taken at Mawata Park, Calgary. July 19, 1940
Back of photo:Twa Bonnie Piper Laddies. Calgary HIghlanders. Camp Shilo
Back of photo: Pat Gillian. Calgary HIghlanders. Served 2 years in Spanish Civil War 1939-1939
This seems to be the last correspondence sent by our Jack. I hope he was ok.

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Letters from “Jack the soldier” during WWII – writing from the trenches in Holland

Well, this is a humbling letter. That’s pretty much all I have to say about it – his words say more than I ever could.

A couple of things – Boche was slang for Germans, and the Boche potato mashers were German grenades.

M11915 CPL Martin JS

6 Platoon Support Coy

Calgary Highlanders

C.A.O

16th Oct 1944

Holland

Dear Folks,

Thanks again for your super letter written Sept 28th. It arrived this evening so it didn’t take as long as the last one to get here.

I am writing this in my dugout and have only a flickering old candle made by myself out of some fat I scrounged from the cooks, so don’t blame me if you strain your eyes reading this.

This dugout I mentioned, is not very deep, as the ground is very sandy and it keeps caving in. I hunted up an old lumber pile and laid lots of heavy board on top, covered that over with soil, then placed the turf back on over the entrance. I have a couple of groundsheets which help keep the rain out. It also keeps this little light from shining. As you can imagine, I haven’t much room. But after I have been in for a while, it gets kinda cozy and it is a lot warmer than sleeping out on top.

Every place we go these days we carry a shovel, and dig ourselves below ground level. Then if we stay over-nite, we dig it deeper and try to get a top on it. The darn things won’t keep a shell out, but I feel heaps safer in one. Sort of ostrich like complex, if I can’t see out, I figure they can’t see in, and the top keeps a lot of shrapnel from buzzing in.

I remember the first time I was under shell fire. We had taken over positions from the Boche, and as he had been there some time, trenches had already been dug with roofs over them. The shells were coming over very thinly(?), and we could hear the whine a long ways off. I used to think it kind of a big joke to beat the shell to my trench. It was rather exciting, but at first not dangerous. It wasn’t until there were several casualties that I began to see the serious side of it, and still I hadn’t learned my lesson. Our next step was thru Caen. All our vehicles were perched very prettily on a hill and I had just stepped out of our jeep, when Bang. All hell broke loose. I dived for the lowest spot I could see, and in between shells I scooped out the ground with my hands to get a spot to bury my head in. For an hour they came over and I was a pretty scared boy. When the shells quit for a while, I beat the wind getting below ground. There was nothing around to use for a roof, so for the next three days I shivered in that hole. When it rained everything turned to mud, and the concussion of shells landing close, blew the sides of the trench in. So now next to my good old _____? I push my shovel.

It’s hard to describe things as they were during that first month around Caen. I watched a 1000 bombers blast hell out of Caen. Turning day into nite with the smoke they raised. Distances were measured in yards, and there was a dead body every yard. Every village was pounded and re-pounded until it was a heap of rubble, the stink, ruin, and cries of the dying and wounded just about drove me insane. There was no let up, day or nite. After we broke away from Caen, it was a little easier. When I went to hospital near Falaise, I figured I was lucky, and the two weeks out gave me a chance to rest up and stop my nerves from jumping. It used to be if I heard any sudden noise or if anyone spoke to me suddenly I’d jump a mile. But the rest fixed me up again. After coming out, it was a lot easier except for the odd day or two. I rather enjoyed the rest of the trip thru France. The people were very friendly and gave us all kinds of fruit and stuff they had been saving for years. Things got a little difficult thru Belgium as it, like Holland, has so many canals, and Jerry put a fight up at each one. This blasted country looks as tho it s going to be the worst of all, as on top of all the other things, it is cold and wet.

As for me, I have kept in quite good health, but I won’t be sorry when it is all over.

My job these days is to pick up mines, check on booby traps, and other fiendish contraptions, as well as doing the odd spot of stem? shooting.

The biggest percentage of the new recruits have never even heard of a booby trap. (God knows how they have been trained in Canada). So being a Cpl, I have to worry about them, as well as myself. One thing the most of them have is guts, and they learn pretty fast here, or they don’t last long. Things on the whole aren’t too bad. We usually manage to have lots of fun between times.

Don’t worry Edna about the mistake you made in my number. I noticed on the letter that came before this. If it is addressed to the unit, it will reach me. When I was in hospital all my mail went astray. Letters from my wife in England didn’t reach me until long after I returned to the unit. I didn’t know I was a “Daddie” until nearly a month after and a telegram that Eileen sent informing me of the news took 2 months to reach me. Now that I’m back my mail situation is better. But still some of the parcels you sent haven’t arrived, and you can bet that burns me up. But when they do I’ll let you know, when they come.

Tell Percy he hasn’t anything on me when it comes to fishing. I don’t need any line or reel. If we get near a canal, we drop half a dozen Boche potato mashers in, and if there is any fish around, they sure come up. But I believe I would rather do it his way.

Well folks, I guess I’ll soon have to finish this as my candle is getting very low. Thanks again for your letters, and I will drop you a line soon again. I hope it will be a fairly quiet night here, but I suppose that is asking too much.

My little Julie Ann is doing famously. I’m waiting on a picture of her, my wife tells me she looks like me, poor kid. It is over two months old now and is getting bigger every day. I can hardly believe it is true yet. But I’m longing for all this to end so that I can see her for myself. I tell the wife all about my times at the C.L. So don’t be surprised if some day, we all pay you a visit.

God damned guns have started up again and just about to blow my candle out every time they fire. So will say so long and All the Best to you all

Sincerely, Jack.

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Letters from “Jack the Soldier” during WWII – Get what Happiness we can out of life

This letter is a good reminder for me about how life is full of both positive and negative things. As Jack says, I know it is pretty hard to figure out very far ahead these days, but I think the best way is to try and get what happiness we can out of life while we can. I don’t know what happened to the letters in the couple of years between, it seems what I have is pretty sporadic, but fascinating even with the time gaps.

26th April, 1942

Dear Percy and Edna

Thank you ever so much for your letter and parcel of March 10th. I certainly was glad to hear from you again and to know you all are well back there.

At present I am writing this in a tent we have moved from our portable billets and into a new camp, but things are pretty good just now as the weather has been gloriously fine for the last three weeks.

We are doing rather tough drilling now, long forced marches, battle drills and all the rest, I guess they are trying to make Commandos out of us all. Since we are all together in one camp again, I have seen a lot of Bill, and he still is the same, I don’t think anything will ever change him, he is quite lucky as he has a lot of relatives close and can visit them quite often.

There are a great many changes in the battalion since we came over, quite a lot have transferred to other units, others have gone back to Canada, and a lot of new faces are to be seen now. I have met quite a few of the boys since coming here, that I haven’t seen for years.

Things look ever so nice just now around the country, all kinds of wild flowers are growing, but I still like Canada best and my accent is not getting English – yet.

I’m sorry to hear that you have had tough luck about getting mail over. It seems to come over in spurts, some of the boys have a good system of numbering their letters from one to ten, then starting over again. This way you can tell just how many letters have gone astray, and I don’t know whether it makes any difference or not, but most of their letters manage to turn up.

I just came back from a good weeks leave not long ago. I sure enjoy a break away from the army life once a in a while and I wish I could get away for good sometimes.

Maybe you will think I’m pretty crazy, but I think if all turns out well I will be getting married in June 6th. I know it is pretty hard to figure out very far ahead these days, but I think the best way is to try and get what happiness we can out of life while we can. So I guess I will be getting hitched soon now.

If I can scare up the price I’ll send you a cable within the next few days, telling you I got the parcel, which I enjoyed greatly. Wonder if you could send a cigarette lighter and some razor blades please. Matches are scarce, but not matter what it is, everything is welcome. Be sure and write, and I do like to hear from you folks. I am still keeping well, hope you are too.

Best of Luck, Jack.

PS I sure would like any addresses of people you know if they are not too far away, possibly zI can visit them. Sincerely Jack

M11915

PtE J Martin

Calgary Highlanders

Headq. Coy. 5 Platoon

CA (Overseas)

Back of photo: Merry Xmas To Percy and Edna from Bill
Back of photo: I wonder if you will recognize me
Back of photo: This looks like an ad as to what the well dressed soldiers will wear.

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Letters from “Jack the Soldier” during WWII – descriptive Army Vocabulary

This letter sounds a bit more ominous even though for the most part Jack sounds pretty upbeat. It’s hard not to be affected thinking of these men heading off to fight battles where so many people died and were injured. I’m assuming the next letter I read will be when he’s overseas in the war zone.

20th August. Tues (1940)

Dear Percy and Edna

Here is the nuisance again, I have not much to do right now, so thought I would drop you a line. I have just had another inoculation, so am entitled to a twenty four hour without dusty. This is the fourth inoculation and one vaccination I have had so far, so I should be pretty much immune against any disease that may come floating around.

At last I found Bill Harris, and I guess I must have passed by his tent a thousand times and didn’t know he was around, but by having his number which you gave me, I was able to hunt him up in a few minutes. He is just the same old Bill, but he is getting plump, he sure looks fine.

Bill had I had quite a time, talking about everything I certainly enjoyed myself. You know how he talks and since he joined up, he has an added Army vocabulary which sure sounds descriptive. On the whole it was big treat listening to him.

Just now Bill is working in the quartermasters stores so doesn’t have to drill very often which suits William fine. It would be hard to find another job, more agreeable to him, which suggests a lot if you know Bill.

I haven’t as yet been able to hunt up C, Robinson, but Bill tells me he is doing fine and has gained weight enormously, so therefore the army life must suit him fine.

Have you heard that Robert Moody is going to be married? Bill showed me a letter he received from him, and by what he writes, she is one in a million. Perhaps you may see him, and he still is in Currie Barracks.

We have been having gas drill lately, and it sure gives a guy a choking sensation to put on the gas mask, especially the first few minutes. I have been trying to get leave to go to Calgary, but can’t manage to get any more than three days, which should hardly give me time to get up there for any length of time.

Probably you will have thought that I have been a little neglectful in not writing you sooner, but we have heard for the last two weeks that we were moving, and I waited to see if these rumours would materialize, but I think this will be the last letter I will be writing in Shilo, so I’ll write my new address on the last page.

Sorry I haven’t any more snaps to send you, I have some films waiting to be developed, and as soon as we get settled I’ll fix them up and send them to you.

We had a rare treat yesterday, Gracie Fields, the famous English singer, sang for an hour before the thousands of troops, she sure is wonderful, and I’m glad I heard of her before I left camp.

Well Percy and Edna I’ll say so long now as it will likely be a long time before I see you again, but I’ll still keep on dropping a line o matter where I go, so as Gracie sang on Sunday, I’ll say, Wish me Luck as you Say Goodbye.

As Ever, Jack

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Letters from “Jack the Soldier” during WWII – Thanks for the Candy

This is the kind of stuff that makes history so fascinating to me. I have always been much more interested in social history than political history – although these letters are a bit of both, it’s the humanness of the time, the emotions and personal stories that go with the incredible hard times of war that interest me. The human sprit is amazing.

4th August, 1940

Dear Percy and Edna

Thanks for the small box of candy, it sure hit the spot alright. I must say I was too surprised for words when my name was called at mail parade, as I had not been expecting anything and I can barely explain just how pleased I was to hear from you both and I must admit that I never tasted or made better candy. A fact which everybody who tasted it admits. Boy of boy, how some of my pals liked it, and they told me to tell you it sure was good.

Well the old army life is still going strong, although there has been quite a change at the camp. Most of the tents are gone now. Almost a thousand workmen have been busy since we came here erecting new huts and most of the men are sleeping inside now, at least there is a roof over our heads, but windows and doors are lacking just yet, but I suppose by the time this reaches you these will all be fitted in.

It sometimes is hard to write a letter and give all the news that you would like, but we have to be extremely careful what we write, as letters might possibly get into other hands, before reaching their destination, so I’ll try and give you an idea just of what we do, without mentioning any dates, or rumours or what we hear. I have been taking rifle and machine gun practice lately, and I must confess that with a rifle I am not just what I’d like to be, although I suppose with more practice I might possibly become a fair shot. With the machine gun I tested good so far, and do I love to run one of those babies. Hitler better not let me get a lock on him, unless he want so to die sudden like. Drilling hasn’t been very much stressed so far, but more emphasis on rifle and machine gun practice. I suppose the idea is that to be expert in shooting and knowing your machine is much better than to be able to do a left or right turn correctly, and anyway these things are more important.

Troops in the more advanced stages enact field maneuvers, in fact do everything here that would be essential in a hostile country. In every kind of weather that happens to come, they stay out for two or three weeks at a time and act out just as if they were in the front line, all kinds of maneuvers. And talking about the weather, this part of the country can be changed from the driest, dustiest hole to the wettest, coldest, most miserable spot anywhere or anyplace.

I’m afraid if you keep mentioning hot biscuits again you’ll have a deserter on your hands. When I read your letter, I just imagined I was back there again, wolfing hot biscuits by the dozen into me again, and it was only by experiencing every ounce of self control that I didn’t go out and jump the first train west, for that is one thing the army doesn’t positively make hot biscuits. I get hungry just thinking about them.

I haven’t heard of either Bill Harris or Charlie Robinson in camp so far, but I’ll try and find out at Headquarters just where they are, and give you news. As this camp is so large, it is like trying to find a needle in a haystack for any one person unless you know on good authority just where he is.

So you have a little red-head Scotch lassie helping you now. Well I always had a crush on little red-heads especially if they are Scottish so you might give a guy her name, you might possibly coax her to write, letters are always welcome, providing of course if the boyfriend doesn’t object too much.

I went up to see Mel Jones just before I left Calgary and he told me all about Kay getting married to the Watkins salesman. He didn’t seem to think much of it. Kay wrote me a long time ago when I was down at Picture Butte, and told me she would probably be getting married. I hope she gets along ok. How is my old, or should I say young friend Claudia, the school marm? I suppose she will be married by now and living in the house on the hill. Tell her I was inquiring about her if you happen to see her.

Often I stop and think about the times I had out there on the ranch. Is old Dolly or whatever her name is still alive? I remember now it’s ______? And she is a he. It was the only horse that I could stick on and not be scared to death that I would get bucked off from. I laugh to myself now, how I used to think what a cowpoke I was. These days seem so far away now, tho in reality it was not so long ago, but things have changed so fast in the last year that when you start reviewing everything it seems almost impossible that they would happen in such a short space of time.

Well this letter seems to be taking on the proportions of a book, so I had better wait a few days and write you another letter, I don’t know whether I’ll be able to send any snaps of myself this time, as I haven’t had them returned yet from the studio, but I’ll see about them if they come before I mail this letter.

Give my regards to everybody especially Sheila and Marshall. Oh, don’t forget the redhead either. Thanks again for the wonderful candy and to Hell with Hitler.

Sincerely Jack

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