I would like to take advantage of this blog article to pay tribute to all of the people who take care of veterans in retirement homes. We organize events to bring veterans together and interview them, but we also travel to where they are, in retirement homes or residences, to meet personally with those who may have a hard time getting out. I am thinking specifically about our recent event which took place in Montreal, this past January, where two of our teams travelled to four retirement homes. It’s with Wendy from the Griffith McConnell residence in mind, and her spirit and interest, which incited me to write this article. Of course, it’s the job of these individuals to take care of their residents, but they often do much more than that. They listen with interest to their stories of war and sacrifice and they take a great interest in their past. They admire these residents and make them feel like the important people that they are, and remind them that they hold a special place in our History, with a big "H". I will always remember this friendly and laid-back trip to Montreal. I would like to personally thank all retirement home employees for their warm welcome, their enthusiasm, and their spirit. Hyman Sazant, who took part in the Memory Project, poses with (from left) Helen Chehab, Jennifer Givogue, Céline Garbay and Anne Seignot.
At The Memory Project: Stories of the Second World War, we interview veterans both in person and over the phone. While the phone seems less desirable than a face-to-face interview, I very much enjoy it: the phone assures near-perfect sound quality and allows us to include veterans whose health is too fragile to attend an interviewing event, or who live in remote areas of the country. One of the most interesting aspects for me throughout the process of interviewing such veterans over the phone is my mental image of these veterans. We usually speak to the veterans to collect service-related details, to interview them and to discuss their World War Two-era artefacts. This process can take days or even weeks, depending on the availability of the veteran. Throughout the interview process, I imagine these veterans as young servicemen and women. After months with the The Memory Project, it still takes me by surprise to see contemporary photographs of the veterans, as almost all of them are octogenarians. As I interview the veterans over the phone and discuss their wartime experiences, I envision them as teenagers, or in their early twenties, landing on the beaches of Normandy, sailing the Triangle Run in the Atlantic Ocean or working in an office in Calgary. When I receive contemporary photographs of these veterans, I am somehow surprised that they have not remained eternally youthful. I suppose that one is only as old as one feels, and judging by the spirit, sharp memory and humour of many of our veteran volunteers, they have attained eternal youth in my eyes.
I met Second World War veteran Gerald James (ret. Sergeant) at a Memory Project event at the Okanagan Military Museum in Kelowna, BC. During his interview, Mr. James discussed many “stories of great coincidence” that occurred during and since the war. Being in reconnaissance, he moved out in front of the troops, exposing himself to confrontations with the enemy. He recounted the time he was taken Prisoner of War in Germany. His support squadron ran past a German anti-aircraft battery, which fired at them, blowing their vehicles off the road. “Some of us were rounded up, and that was it,” explained Mr. James, “They hauled us away, marched for a couple of weeks until the Americans caught up to us and released us.” He described how puzzled he was to hear one of the young German guards speaking perfect English with an American accent. Though he eventually was returned to his unit, the incident stuck in his mind. Some years after the war, a friend of his received a letter from a German man, Mr. Walter Schroder, who was writing his memoirs, and wanted to talk to those Canadian soldiers who were taken prisoner by his unit. Mr. James got in touch with Mr. Schroder and realized he was the same young soldier who spoke English with an American accent. Forty-five years after the war, Mr. James went to the home of his former German guard and shared a meal and conversation with Mr. Schroder. “This is the strange thing about war,” said Mr. James, “People on the other side are the same as yourself.” Mr. Schroder wrote a book of his time in the Germany army called Stars & Swastikas: The Boy Who Wore Two Uniforms. Mr. Gerald James (on left) with his former German guard, Mr. Walter Schroder (on right).