Reluctantly, Helen woke up at 6 a.m. when her alarm went off.
She’d worked until 12:30 a.m. the night before, on the evening shift, and knew
she would be tired, but she thought that the summer was almost half over and
she might not get another chance to visit Niagara
Falls. She’d been in the east three years now and
hadn’t made the trip yet, so when Ida suggested the outing, she jumped at the
chance. And she thought the fresh air would do her good.
“I guess you and the boys have made this trip many times,”
said Helen.
“Yes, we usually tried to go at least once a season – Harry
and Ross really got a kick out of it, we’d usually do something different each
time we went, like go out on the Maid of the Mist, or get our photos taken,”
said Ida.
The sun gradually came out and
the weather was totally clear by the time they reached Queenston. There was
quite a crowd gathered and they had to stand up in the buses that took them to
the falls.
“Oh, I forgot to bring my pen with me, do you have one Ida?”
Helen asked her.
“Oh well, I guess I’ll send them when I get home, he’s
always sending me postcards of all the beautiful places he’s been, so now it’s
my turn.”
23
Late August, 1944 – Things are Looking Up
After being away for four months, the band was finally back
in Bournemouth. They had been ordered to leave
the city in advance of D-Day on June 6 to make room for the incoming troops.
Getting off the train, they carried
their kit bags and boots through streets overflowing with rhododendrons to the
Knights of Columbus, their temporary quarters. Each claiming a cot, they draped
their belongings around their own sleeping spot.
“It’s good to be back in the most beautiful place on earth,”
Harry said.
“Why don’t we go out and celebrate?” Ossie suggested.
“What did you have in mind?
“Let’s take all our leave rations and hit the shops over in
Boscombe.”
 |
| The band travelled all around England during the summer, 1944 |
“Great idea!”
Several of them headed down to
the main street butcher and each bought 2 inch thick beef steaks – twice the
civilian ration for a week, then bought milk and Hovis loaves at the grocer’s.
“Let’s go back and get the B.W.S.O. to cook it up for us,” Ossie
said.
“What a lift a bottle of milk can give you after being
deprived of it for so long,” Harry said on their way back after drinking one of
the two quarts he bought. “I feel like a million, no kidding.”
They handed over their groceries
to the cook, then relaxed at the mess tables. Soon, dinner was served.
“This is the most delicious steak I’ve ever tasted,” Smitty
said, savouring every bite.
“A good meal can sure boost the morale,” Harry said.
“So, how much do you weigh now?”
“149 lbs., with my boots on – the most I’ve ever weighed in
my life.”
“Well, we all should get fatter now that we’re back in Bournemouth.”
“I guess we better check the newspapers and see if we can
find more permanent accommodations,” Harry said pushing his plate away.
 |
| Band members listening to jazz, Harry on right |
“I’m way ahead of you there,” said Smitty. “I picked up a
Bournemouth Times at the train station. But there doesn’t seem to be much
available – only rooms in the suburbs, which would mean standing in queues for
hours and taking the bus four times a day, to get to our practices and shows.”
“I guess we’ll have to put an ad in ourselves if we’re to
find anything half decent.”
“How about we do that tomorrow – it’s too nice a day to waste.
Look at that view – the channel is beckoning.”
“You’re on – let’s go down to the beach.”
As they walked down the Upper
Cliff road, they noticed that the barbed wire had been lifted from the beach so
they could walk along the two miles of sand towards what was left of the Bournemouth pier. They could see the white cliffs of the Isle of Wight off in the distance.
“It’s hard to believe all those ships left from here,” said
Harry.
“Yeah, that newsreel showed thousands of them going over to Normandy. It seems that
many of them left from Poole and Weymouth,
just over there.” Smitty pointed further west along the coast.
“Too bad we weren’t here to witness it all,” Harry said. “Do
you ever feel guilty that we aren’t fighting on the frontlines?”
“Sometimes – I did get rifle training, but my eyesight was poor
and when they knew I could play an instrument, they assigned me to the band.”
“I didn’t even try for combat duty – I knew my mother would
have had a fit – as it was, she didn’t want me to join up. My parents had just returned
from England
before the war started and knew it wasn’t going to be a pleasant scene. My
being in the band was the most she could tolerate.”
“If we had gone to the continent, chances are you and I
wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”
As they got closer to the
Pavilion near downtown Bournemouth, they found
a spot on the beach, and joined the other sun bathers.
“Outside of those planes passing overhead
and the almost continuous artillery practice, you’d hardly know there was a war
on,” Harry said.
 |
| Smitty (left) & Harry |
“Here, have a cigar – I’ve been saving them up for just this
moment – to our safe arrival back in Bournemouth.”
Smitty lit both their smokes.
“I guess some things are getting back to normal, but it does
make you wonder how long this war will last.”
Bournemouth, Sept. 7,
1944
My Darling Helen,
I hope you will
have more luck in finding a room than we are darling . . . We’re going to see
about some furnished flats tomorrow and hope we have more luck.
I
played a job in Boscombe last night (a suburb of Bournemouth)
and I was the only sax with three rhythm. Boy did I sweat! I’m working tomorrow
night if I can contact the man. By the way I played alto and can still get a
good tone on it so the tenor hasn’t done it any harm. I’m afraid I smashed up
the tenor a bit when I threw it on the floor one night; it works with a couple
of elastics though.
Well
our leave is almost over – it seemed very short really . . . I spend my leisure
time walking through the gardens here and along the sea shore when it isn’t too
cool. That’s about all there is to do outside of shows and dances. I think
we’ll be going to London
in a couple of weeks for nine days to relieve the #1 band. The authorities seem
to agree that London
is now safe from any attack the enemy might think up. I think the Germans will
be in for an even greater ordeal when the air force really starts to work on
them.
Well, sweetheart, I’m getting a little sleepy and all
the other boys are in bed. It’s another day closer to the end of the war and
you angel; that’s how I look at it. Good night sweetheart. All my love forever.
Harry
Bournemouth, Wed. Sept. 13,
1944
My Darling Helen,
I haven’t received a letter from you this week, I hope
you’re not mad at me angel or are you busy looking for a room? Al and I found
one in Winton, 10 minutes on a bus from the Square with a nice old lady who
can’t seem to do enough for us. The room is very nice with two single beds and
ridiculously cheap – 28 shillings a week with breakfast and dinner, we’ll have
to rustle up our own supper at night as she’s working until 8:30 p.m. every
week day. She didn’t want to take anything for the room while we were
travelling but we talked her into taking a shilling every day we were on the
road. One of the chaps got talking to an old lady who wouldn’t let him pay a
cent for her room – how about that!
Well
darling, we’re going up to Liverpool tomorrow morning but will be back here
Saturday night to play an officer’s dance and church parade Sunday; rather a
busy weekend. We’re moving into our room on Monday and I think we’ll be very
comfortable. We hired a taxi this afternoon to take our kit up and what a load
it was.
Al
and I spent a very enjoyable evening just sitting on the sand watching the
waves break while we smoked a cigar. Great life eh? Now that we’re in the money
again it puts a new light on things in general. Now that I’ve saved £200 I’m
going to do all I can to save £300.
We’ve
been doing a little rehearsing this week on some new music; we’re playing a
show at the Regent theatre Sunday night for the boys.
I
really must close for now sweetheart; we have to get up at the ungodly hour of
seven and it’s nearly twelve now so, I’ll be seeing you. All my love angel.
Harry.
24
Visiting the Wounded
“I’ve never been in a hospital before, imagine that,” said
Helen.
“I was only in once, when I had scarlet fever as a child,”
said Ida. “Both boys were born at home.”
“Even when my brother spilled hot gravy all over me and I
was burned badly, the doctor came to the farm and bandaged me up,” said Helen.
The two were on their way to Christie Street Veterans’ Hospital*
to visit a young man Helen knew from Saskatchewan.
“Do you have the room number Helen?” Ida asked.
“Yes, Florence
gave it to me,” she said, fishing it out of her pocket.
“What did you say
happened to him?”
“Well Florence
wrote to tell me her brother Ray had been wounded in the Italian campaign and
was sent here shortly afterwards. I think his arm was badly damaged. He hasn’t
had any visitors – he doesn’t know anyone in Toronto, so she asked me to go to see him,”
Helen said.
Walking down the long corridor, they searched for his room, when
a kindly nurse offered to help. She took them to the lounge, where Ray was
sitting up, with bandages over most of his body.
“Ray, it’s Helen from Tisdale, and this is my fiancé’s
mother Ida Culley,” Helen explained. “Florence
wanted us to come and see you. How are you?”
Ray looked at them groggily, trying to make out who she was
and what she was saying. After a moment, he smiled.
“Not too bad considering.”
“From what Florence
said, it’s amazing that you’re alive,” Helen said.
“Yes, the Gerries rained down pretty hard on us. I jumped
out of the way just in the nick of time. My buddy wasn’t so lucky.”
“I’m so sorry. Is there anything we can do for you?” Helen
asked.
“No thanks, they’re treating me pretty well here. How are
things in Saskatchewan?”
“Fine, I guess. I’m working in Toronto now at the TTC, not far from here.”
“I’ll leave you two to talk,” Ida said, spotting a piano on
the other side. As she started to play, the patients sitting around the room
perked up.
“Where is your fiancé stationed?” Ray asked.
“Harry’s pretty safe – he’s down in Bournemouth most of the
time, but they do go to London
regularly, so I worry when he’s there.”
“He’s one of the fortunate ones.”
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“Yes, Rose back home, if she’s still waiting for me.”
“Oh, I’m sure she’ll be so happy to see you again.”
Helen could hear Ida playing “An Hour Never Passes” and she
fell silent for a few moments, as she listened to the beautiful melody.
* during World War II so many injured soldiers came to the
Christie Street Veterans’ Hospital (also known as the Military Orthopedic
Hospital) that it became overcrowded. As a result, in 1948, construction began
on the new Sunnybrook
Hospital.
 |
| Harry's Civil Defense Diary |
Toronto, July 9, Sept. 5, Sept. 13, Oct. 22, Nov. 9/44[compilation]
My Darling Harry,
I just read your letter over again and listened to their
[Harry and Ida’s] radio program, so now I shall write you a few lines. I was
going to sit in the easy chair to do it but I always get too sleepy there. It’s
a chilly damp night, hasn’t rained but looks like it – must be like the weather
you’ve been having.
Last night the two of us went to the Hospital. Ray was
sitting on the sofa so we sat with him for a few minutes then your Mother
played and we walked down with him to see the first part of an entertainment
show, left around nine and I went home with her for an hour or so. He was
wounded badly, but his arm is all right. He seems very cheerful and isn’t
suffering much now.
. . . Are you still up in Glasgow? You should like going there; at
least it’s safe anyway. I bet you wouldn’t get over that episode in London for a few days. If
you were actually confronted with it all the time, you would be accustomed to
it like the boys in the fighting lines. I don’t know how they can have any
nerves at all. Those robots [i.e. V-1 and V-2 pilotless rockets] are the most
terrible menace yet; they [the Allies] seem to be doing all in their power to
combat them though. I hope you don’t have to go back [to London] for awhile. Those poor people go
through so much.
On the news this morning there were reports of more
bombings on the south coast – well, that starts me wondering. It’s impossible
to keep up with current events the way our troops are progressing now – it’s
great.
Mrs. Roosevelt and Mrs. Churchill* just spoke on the
air; thanking Canadians for their hospitality and speaking words of encouragement
in both English and French. There will be much excitement at Quebec this week. So far, their plans have
been carried out – if only the final phases don’t last too long.
My days are filled with just little things, and I’m
not in a position to see something different as you are, although there’s lots
in this city I have yet to see. I know you have influenced me in my interests,
outlook and naturally, my thoughts – that fact just came to me dear.
Have you heard that song “An Hour Never Passes?” –
it’s nice.
So long sweetheart, All my love and kisses, Helen
*The Second Quebec Conference took place in Quebec
City from September 12 – 16, 1944, to develop the Morgenthau Plan
for postwar Germany,
other war plans,
Hyde Park Agreement involving Winston
Churchill, Franklin D. Roosevelt and Mackenzie King.
An Hour Never Passes by Jimmy Kennedy, performed by Jimmy Dorsey, 1944
An hour never passes but I think of you
An hour never passes but I miss you too
Every day from dawning till the moon rides low
You’re beside me darling everywhere I go
An hour never passes, the clock never chimes
But I keep recalling those old happy times
Without my prayer for you in each lonely sigh
An hour never passes by.
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