A few years ago I was lucky enough to spend a week or so alone with my grandparents. It was a fortunate time for me because Grandpa Clare was finally in a mood to share me the amazing story of his life at sea durring WW II with me, among other things. Here's a very inadequite attempt to paraphrase his story in honour of Remembrance Day. I appologize for any factual errors.
When war came Grandpa enlisted in the Navy. Maybe it was because he was a prairie boy and had never seen the sea. I’m not too sure what his motivation was, other than he wanted to serve his country and the war effort to the best of his ability. It was the same with a lot of men in his generation. I cannot really hope to understand the magnitude of their decision—in large part due to the sacrifice of veterans, and the abhorrence of war they preached so effectively upon their return from Europe and Asia—but I will always honour my grandpa, and all the men and women who answered the call in the name of Freedom.
Grandpa was lucky enough to have a good brain so that he passed all the IQ tests, and so forth, that they gave to determine in what capacity the men would serve. He and Nana came out to Vancouver for part of his training and enjoyed the city a lot; this is when they decided (or dreamed more like) that this is where they wanted to retire to.
Grandpa trained to go to sea in an anti-submarine boat. They used equipment and charts to track U-boats and destroy them if they threatened the convoys. This part of the conflict is known in the history books as The Battle for the Atlantic. He went to King’s College at Dalhousie (I think) to learn the anti-sub trade. He was one of the few guys that wasn’t fresh out of University. But because he was smart and hard working he finished near the top of his class and got to choose what ship he would serve on. He and Nana went to Quebec City while they waited for it to be built and equipped. He was hoping to have some time off there, but then he got called back for more training. Finally he and the ship were ready for active duty.
The first thing they did with the ship was to take it down to Bermuda to do some exercises. It was there that they discovered who was fit for the job, and who had to be reassigned. Every seaman had to know his role, and had to be sharp as a tack. As they were returning to Halifax the Communication Officer sent the wrong signal and had to be removed from the ship. There was no room for clumsy errors, even in friendly waters.
Grandpa’s ship guided the Merchant Navy vessels through the dangerous Atlantic crossing. He was good at his job and was fortunate to be able to come up from the lower decks after about two years to work with the officers. Grandpa’s unit was never responsible for the sinking of a sub, but they almost had one once off the coast of Ireland. A U-boat had collided with one of the ships in the convoy and had retreated into the neutral waters off the coast of the Irish Republic. They hunted for the sub all day until they were called back into the fold. About twenty minutes after they left they got word that the sub had been located and sunk.
Grandpa served right up to the end of the war. After V-day he continued to work on a different ship and told me a story of how that ship went to New York. The Canadian forces were treated like royalty in New York, and everywhere they went people wanted to talk to them and buy them drinks.
Luckily for me, and the rest of the Mc Burney clan, Grandpa made it back to Halifax alive and well in body and spirit, and was honourably discharged. Many of Nana and Grandpa’s friends and acquaintances were not so fortunate. Today is the day we remember them, and everyone else who has lost their life to defend the rights and freedoms of people the world over.
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