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Writer's pictureCharlie B

Farm War: 1939-1943

Updated: Apr 5, 2020

On September first Hitlers Germany invaded Poland, and Britain immediately gave Hitler an ultimatum which expired the same day and war was declared. Canada followed suit on September third. A strange quiet descended over our house. My parents were glum and were very quiet. I realized at age eight that something bad had happened but had no idea of the implications.

There was a scramble of activity on the farm and in the country. Rationing came in, especially for sugar. Farmers were ordered to switch production to emergency appropriate crops etc. My dad switched over to fields of high protein soya beans. More food animals were produced. Gas rationing was invoked early on except the farmers were given special supplies for their tractors etc. The gas was heavily dyed purple so if anyone was caught with this in their car gas tanks- and they checked roadside- there was a heavy fine.

Brother Don was in his early twenties and raring to go. He and two buddies went up to Calgary to join the Air Force. Don had been in bed for six months with rheumatic fever as a teenager and was left with a heart murmur. He was rejected for the Service and was broken hearted - no pun intended . He was told to go home to the farm and help the war effort raising food, much to my mothers relief. His two buddies were accepted, went overseas and were killed.

Many of the hired men left for war resulting for longer hours and heavier loads for those remaining behind. As the war progressed and there were increasing numbers of German prisoners an internment camp was established just outside Lethbridge about forty miles away. Many of the inmates were rabid Nazis from Rommel’s desert army and their officers ran the camp with straight arm salutes, clicking heels, and full military protocols. Dads hunting buddy the Colonel and his Veterans Guard were up to the job. There were no escapes. The Nazis ran a kangaroo court in the camp and one time they executed one of their soldiers by hanging in the camp allegedly because he was labelled a traitor over some issue. The head German officer who was identified as the judge was prosecuted by the military police, found guilty of murder and he was duly hung! Fun and games.


Prisoner of War Camp 133 in Lethbridge, 1942

Later in the war, by arrangement with the Colonel, any of the inmates who volunteered and considered no threat were allowed out of the camp to work on the farms. They wore bright blue overalls with a huge orange circle on the back for identification. Our cook for a while was called Franz, quite a well educated guy who actually emigrated to Canada after the war, as did a number of others. They were generally well behaved. One guy got depressed and hung himself in the barn .


When I was in grade five I left the one room school for the large one in Vauxhall seven miles away. Brother Don had an old truck and cleverly constructed a sort of a bus body on it with a back door entry. It held about a dozen kids. He obtained a contract to bus kids to the school from local farms. Seats were side benches. Since I was first on I sat at the back door and was responsible for seeing that the door was securely closed. The “ bus” circled around to multiple farms making the trip to school around twenty miles.


Truck used as a school bus

The roads were unpaved with gravel over a clay base. In wet weather they became rutted quagmires and riding in the back was like being in a cocktail shaker. Predictably there was lots of puking and we would arrive at school with a river of it in the aisle between the benches. From my position at the back door I was able to crack it open and get some air. When school was over Don would be waiting with the engine running to take us home. No after school games or activities. One day a kid who had to walk to the bus pick up had an encounter with a skunk. The bus atmosphere was impressive. It was winter so when we got to school he went and stood over a floor heat register and the whole school was sniffing and gagging. I don’t remember that the teachers found out where the stench was coming from.


So the war plodded on. One day I hitched a ride in a cart with an aged Russian neighbour  who had managed to get his family out around the 1917 revolution. The Russians had just repulsed the Germans at Stalingrad and I commented what a great job they were doing. He became agitated and in his broken English tried to convey that the Bolsheviks were very cruel- very bad- very cruel-no good !!  He was desperate to educate me about what he had escaped from and I guess you could say that history proved him correct in many ways .


   

My Brother Richard and I

School in Vauxhall increased my horizons. Not one teacher but different ones for various subjects. The government at war created an army cadet program. The 12 and 13 year old boys were outfitted with scratchy uniforms with a big red maple leaf seven on as shoulder patches. The uniform was to be worn on Friday only. In the afternoon we all marched around the school yard with wooden replica rifles on our shoulders. Once a month a Veterans Guard officer would appear from Calgary to inspect the troops aka the next cannon fodder if the was went on. I was a terrible soldier. I turned left when we were ordered to turn right. The uniform was ill fitting was very rough and itched and bound me in the crotch . Two strips of canvas with buckles were designed be placed around the ankles with the buckles on the outside. They were tapered so yo had to have them the correct way up also. I never seemed to get them on right. I guess they were a First World War invention to help keep feet dry in the trenches.

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