Tag Archives: peace

happiness

A little update on “Jack the Soldier”

Thankfully there were other people who became invested in the life of Jack, and even though I said yesterday that “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 do have a little update on what happened to Jack and Eileen.

I had a family member (thanks Carolyn!) reach out who had done some searching and found Jack’s obituary from 2009 in Cochrane. It seems he passed away at the age of 97, and was survived by his wife, daughter, and a son and some grandchildren. From that I was able to find Eileen’s obituary and she passed away in 2016 also at the age of 97. So, they returned to Canada, to Cochrane, after the war.

It warmed my heart to know that that last letter, which wasn’t really a letter but a pre written post card, may have been the end of my story about Jack but nowhere near the end of his story, of their story. These letters, written by someone I never knew and never will know, have come to mean a lot to me, I’ve learned a lot from him.

Thank you Jack.

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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 – this time a letter from “Bill”

So we hear from this “Bill” that Jack mentioned in his letters. I think this letter was sent in 1940, maybe 41 but I’m not sure. He didn’t date the year, and it wasn’t legible on the envelope.

Bill is the man in one of the photos from yesterdays’ post and Jack has mentioned him a few times before. It’s fun to get to know him a bit through his letter.

PtE WHJ Harris M11295

A Coy 1st Calgary Highlanders

C/O Cnd 5th inf CASF

Base Post Office

Overseas

To Mr and Mrs Percy Copithorne

Just a few lines after a long while hoping they will find you and the family in the very best of health as it leaves me still in one piece. Well you will see by the address that I am quite a long way from Canada and it is needless to say I have wished myself back there quite a few times. I tell you milking cows and pitching bundles is not so bad after all.

Well we had a wonderful trip over here and I enjoyed every bit of it. Wasn’t even seasick. The people give us quite a greeting when we landed and they have been very good to us since. things are quite strange to me after being out there for so long I did not think it would be so different, and the Air Raids and Blackouts does not help it any, but however I am getting kind of used to it now and get a long not too bad.

I was home and spent 5 days with my mother. Something I have lived for ever since I joined up. I took her out quite a bit while I was home, to picture shows and concerts, so I had a grand time for 5 days.

Well Edna, how is the weather over there? It seems to rain about every half hour over here and it seems awfully cold. I have been damn near froze ever since I have been here. Jack Martin is over here, we quite often go downtown together.

Well Edna, I can’t give you very much news as you know, but however if I can still hang onto my scalp I hope to be back there some day and then I can tell you all about it.

Please remember me to the kids and I hope they are both ok. Well, I will say Cherrio for the present.

From your old friend Bill.

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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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happiness

Love is…

I was thinking the other day about “happiness” and how I started this blog seeking happiness in a time where I wasn’t seeing or feeling very happy.

Over the last 10 years there have been so many ups and downs in my life journey, moments of happiness, moments of despair, times of fear, feelings of freedom, times where the pain has cut so deeply I wasn’t sure I’d survive, and times where the sun shone brightly in my world.

I think what I was really searching for, what I really have been searching for wasn’t happiness (I mean, to some extent it was), but instead I was searching for love and the feeling of peace that comes with love.

For me, often (usually) love hasn’t brought a lot of peace. I’ve realized over time that is because I was trying to make things/relationships/people/situations that weren’t love into love. And this became confusing for me over my life. You can’t find love where love is not. It’s been hard to realize that many, many times in my life what I have thought was love was not love at all.

I think we all misuse love to some extent as humans. We can try to manipulate people into loving us, or into putting up with things that cause them pain because they love us, or by using each other in an attempt to relieve our own pain of not feeling loved.

I have realized I need to redefine what love is for myself. What does it mean to love? What does it mean to be loved? What does it mean to be a loving presence on the planet?

The best real-life examples I could come up with was how I have felt with my animals. Thank goodness for the connection humans have with animals, thank God for how animals put up with us and teach us love. Once I could take that as a baseline for love I could apply it to my human relationships and see things more clearly. Some relationships I have with people have been called love but weren’t and some were filled with love that went unrecognized. Lots of learning.

As I was thinking about love and trying to define love for myself I realized that of course there’s a place where I could go and find a definition of love that I could use with faith and confidence that it was, in fact, what love is:

1 Corinthians 13:4-7

4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

I have realized how important it is for me to follow this definition if I want to be a loving person, but I am realizing that it is equally important that I look at how others are treating me, and how they treat other people.

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A little story about the Hall

Yesterday I was standing in our community hall waiting to meet someone and I started reading the poster that hangs on the west end that tells some of the history of how the hall came to be. It’s really something I should know since that building has been part of my life, part of our community, for almost 100 years now. And yet, somehow I’ve never made it all the way through reading it.

I love that old hall. We’ve had parties there, dances, Santa has come and given presents to generations of children, we’ve had Stampede breakfasts, and of course there have been family gatherings. Some of my family gathered there over the weekend to celebrate Thanksgiving and I’m grateful to have been able to attend and catch up with people I rarely get to see.

So, here’s the story of the Hall that hangs up high on the wall that I had never taken the time to read, but finally did so. I’m so glad I did too, it’s like a little love story about our Hall:

Jumping Pound Hall

By Margaret Bateman

The Hall sits on a hill visible from the Trans Canada Highway and was built in the year 1927. It has an excellent hardwood floor, its walls and ceilings are finished in “V” joint. Benches have been built along both sides of the hall with shelves built above the benches. There are electric lights since the year 1947 and in the year 1967 a propane stove and furnace were installed. It is a frame building sitting on sand stone blocks reinforced with cement. It is painted grey with white trim and the roof is covered with red asphalt shingles.

However, it wasn’t always like this. Before World War I, Arthur Cope, Leonard Hutt and the Bacon Boys planned to build a hall and the site was to be on Section 14 near the Pile of Bones Hill. The logs were hauled out but when the war broke out the idea was abandoned because some of the men did not return. The logs remained for some time and then Stanley Cope decided to make use of them and designed a corral in the shape of a cross and his cattle were able to seek shelter from cold winds in all four sections. About the year 1926, the district decided they needed a hall. Prior to that time nearly all social events such as card parties, masquerades, box socials, and dances had been held in private homes around the district. Some of the hosts for these parties were J.W. Copithorne, Hugh Robinson, Frank Sibbald, L.D.and E.E. Nicholl, Dave Lawson, Dick Copithorne, and John Bateman. The school and the post office were used for social events too. I heard of one event which took place in the Jumping Pound Post Office – a box social to make money for Red Cross during the first war when Grannie Bateman played the mouth organ for dancing.

When plans were completed for the Hall – John Copithorne donated an acre of land to be the site of the Hall. The lumber was obtained from Syd Chester in Cochrane and was hauled by team and wagon by some of the local boys, namely Percy and Harry Copithorne, Clarence Sibbald, Dave Lawson, Norman Edge, and Bill Bateman. The total cost of the Hall lumber was $1,479.35, hardware and furniture $654.75, labour $477.90, making a grand total of $2,612.00. Dan Fenton was chief carpenter and all the men in the district did the volunteer work. Charlie Cooley was responsible for the sandstone blocks and since the ground was frozen he used some dynamite to loosen the earth where the blocks were to be set in. As a result, a fair sized hole and considerable cussing but the job got done.

The hall was heated with a coal and wood heater – a bog one donated by McLynn; Coleman lamp lighted the hall.

About the same time as the hall was built the Ghost Dam was being constructed and the workers prioritized the hall – as did all the local people of the district. The opening night of the Hall was a gala affair – the walls were decorated with bear, wolf, and deer hides loaned by Mr. Frank Sibbald. A huge crowd attended and Mr. Sibbald was floored manager. Over the years the hall has been decorated in different ways, at one time Kleenex flowers were attached to shutters painted green and adorned the windows. These took a long time to make and was a project for the local ladies whenever they met to make flowers. Another time decorations of autumn leaves and foliage and Christmas decorations were obtained courtesy of Hudson Bay Co. Another time gay Chinese lanterns were hung from the ceiling to decorate the hall.

Card parties too were popular and the Xmas concert put on by the school children was looked forward to by all the community. Plays were preformed by people from Springbank and there was a popular minstrel show from Cochrane – Mr Brodie and Sam Allan.

In those days if one chose to have a nip or two the bottle was cached behind a willow bush or down a gopher hole. The police sometimes came out and checked on the dances. A few times there was a fight or two, no one was seriously hurt just their dignity. Lunch was served at midnight – a good one, sandwiches, home made cake and real good coffee made by Archie Maclean. He was a good coffee maker, but was very possessive with the kitchen, he liked it to himself.

Do you remember dancing to the music of some of these names? Does Henry Bolter ring a bell? What about the times we danced when Margy Buckley played the piano, Percy Copithorne the violin and Jack Copithorne on the drums. Other bands came from Calgary such as Vi Hopkins, “Ma” Trainor, “Blind Mac”, Jerry Cooke, Lee Lewis, Mrs. Foster, and more recently Lamberts from Cochrane.

The dances now are more modern living, rock and roll – not so many square dances or even waltzes. Supper is still served and there is often a Barr. The price to attend dances has greatly increased as has the cost of the bands.

Showers and special anniversaries are well attended and looked forward to. Turkey shoots are also popular.

Our hall has been our meeting place, events looked forward to and been a source of enjoyment to all of us who reside in the district.

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Dancing Skies

Last night I was actually organized enough to get myself to bed early. I’ve been exhausted and not sleeping well, so figured if I was going to wake up early I’d trick myself by going to bed early.

When we went outside at 8 to grab the last running dog, my daughter gave a little squeal and told me to look up in the sky. The whole sky was dancing and it was absolutely amazing. It was just settling into darkness, so you could still see some actual sky and clouds – but also colours bouncing everywhere.

We ran out of the yard and into the field so we could stand amongst the beauty of the universe and enjoy the light show. God really gave us something to appreciate last night, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen one quite like this – and the girl has never seen northern lights that you didn’t have to look through the phone camera to properly see.

It was a real honour to be able to stand outside for an hour or so taking in the beauty and wonder of the moment that nature was providing for us. Stop and be still, listen and hear, see and be seen, love and be loved.

By the way, I went to bed much later than intended and slept like a log. God is Good.

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I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately….

Thoreau has always been one of my favourite writers. I fell in love with Walden when I was 18 or so in a university English class and my life has never been the same again.

Back then, as a teenager living in Alberta, going to Concord, MA where Thoreau lived and wrote seemed like an impossibility. It’s a good thing that through God, the impossible becomes possible – because 20 years later I was walking around Walden Pond after a short drive from the home where I was living. Life is definitely like a box of chocolates – you never know what you’re going to get!

My photo memories showed me that today, 14 years ago on 10/10/10 we did a forced family fun trip to Walden Pond, and through Concord to take a peek at some of the great American writers.

I think of Thoreau often as I am seeking the peace and quiet of my own woods to clear and calm my mind. The insights and wisdom I get when I unplug from the chaos of electronics and life and plug into the sounds and space of nature is about as close to God as I can get (bonus if there’s a horse around).

The writings of the transcendentalists – many of whom lived in the Concord area – are some of my favourite things to read. Especially when I need a bit of inspiration or need to feel closer to God. Emerson is another one of my favourites. His poem “Give All to Love” is the poem that made me like poetry.

But Walden Pond itself was also a spectacular place. There were people who had made rituals of swimming in the lake, walking the path around the pond, and just being quietly in nature. It was really inspirational and peaceful.

So now I walk my woods with my dogs, working at living more deliberately myself, seeing if I can learn what my woods have to teach.

Walden Pond
The foundation of Thoreau’s cabin

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Sammy Blue Jay

When I was a little girl, sometimes my mom would read me some Old Mother West Wind stories before bedtime. I always loved Thornton W. Burgess’ accounts of the adventures of the creatures of the Green Forest, but Sammy Blue Jay was one of my all time favourites. Perhaps because he was always getting in trouble just for being himself.

When I became a parent and we were living out East, I bought a set of the Old Mother West Wind books for my family and the tradition continued. This time, when we read about Sammy Blue Jay, we could see him right outside the window. I loved many things about living in the East, and by far one of them was the birds – the Blue Jays and the Cardinals being my favourite.

This last year, we suddenly have a yard full of Blue Jays, all of them named Sammy. I have never seen so many here, and don’t remember them being part of my youth on the ranch at all, and I am loving it! They sit in the beautiful tree that is my direct view out of the kitchen window and eat the seeds I put out. I have spent many hours watching and enjoying these birds.

I remember many people disliking the Jays, saying they were loud and obnoxious, but I never felt that way. I did, however, feel that way about our local Magpies, and I remember being shocked when someone I knew saw one for the first time and went on about what beautiful birds they are. I thought to myself (maybe said out loud) “how could anyone like Magpies? They’re so loud and obnoxious”.

Yesterday I was sitting outside and I heard the weirdest sound. After much investigating I discovered it was one of the Sammys singing the song of his people (the song of his birds?) and it was pretty horrible. For a moment I could start to see how they could possibly also be obnoxious. But then, I heard a Magpie go by screeching away and I was reminded that no, in fact, the Magpies are their own special creatures.

Whatever the case, whatever the sounds, I am loving the birds that come to my feeder. They now come up to the windowsill and do a hard stare inside to let me know when their food supply has been depleted. The resident squirrel, not so much. He prefers to throw objects at me from the safety of his tree perch to let me know that his tummy needs to be filled.

Even with the occasional screeeeeech, I find the sounds of nature so soothing. It’s good to remember we all are here sharing life on the planet, we are all part of the same experience, equal in importance and value.

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