The Christmas Concert

The first mention of the xmas concert by the teacher really caused the GIRLS from the rented house(see blog) to perk up. Their forte was acting and the words "shy" or"modesty"were not even in their vocabulary. They immediately volunteered to help out in any way, even to make up the costumes. Of course, they expected, and got, some leading roles. They even talked teacher into including a slightly risque English play they had a copy of.

Throughout the fall, Vallee and Cole often mentioned that as soon as their father became "established" at his shipyard job they would be moving, probably after Christmas. The GIRLS continued their teasing ways with the big boys, and the local girls, seeing the attention they were missing, began to emulate a similar approach although they could not hold a candle to the real thing. In other words the tone of school changed, never to quite return to the staid old ways.

There was a persistent rumour that circulated in the community saying the GIRLS sometimes "entertained" house guests from town at their parents' parties by putting on singing and dancing shows complete with costumes (a la Jon Benet Ramsey?) and accompanied by the oldest boy who could play guitar. The rumour said they expected and got paid for these performances by passing the hat amongst the partiers.

Rehearsals for the Xmas concert went very very well. As usual, every kid had one part or another to play, but the difference that year was the GIRLS were helping the teacher and they would not stand for anyone not knowing their part perfectly. This meant staying after school if necessary.

By the night of the concert, word had gotten around that it was going to be special. Everyone in the farming community was there,even if they didn't have a kid in school. The concert went off as smooth as silk and the parents could not believe the acting ability of their own children! The English play featuring the GIRLS was brash and sassy and the costumes were rather brief(causing some old farmers eyes to pop) however the skit was very funny and went over well.

At the end of the concert, the GIRLS, accompanied by their brother on guitar revealed some real singing talent, doing several Carols. When they tried to end the concert the crowd wanted more and Vallee said they were out of Christmas songs, but could sing something else. They sang a couple more popular songs and then did a tear jerking rendition of Danny Boy in which the brother produced a flute! The audience still did not want the show to end. The GIRLS put their heads together, giggled a bit then Cole said "we don't have any more decent songs, would you like In The Clover?"

Never having heard "In the Clover", the crowd cheered and clapped until it started.
In The Clover

This is number one
And the fun has just begun

Chorus
Roll me over
in the clover
roll me over
lay me down and do it again

This is number two
And he doesn't know what to do

Chorus

This is number three
And he has got me on his knee

Chorus

This is number four
And now I am on the floor

THATS ENOUGH! a farmer shouted from the audience and someone else turned off the lights momentarily. When the lights came back on, the teacher had closed the curtains and the concert was over! The farmers never heard the other six verses of that little ditty.

I never saw the family from the rented house again. By the time school started again after Xmas holidays, they had moved to town as Vallee had maintained they would. About a year later, one of the local farm girls mentioned she had run into the GIRLS in town. they had both left school after grade 8 (as was usual in the 1940s). Vallee was working in the 5c & 10c store and Cole was heavy with child.

NEXT-- The Gamewarden

"To err is human;
To forgive, divine."

--Alexander
Pope

The Rented House

There was no sex education in our country school. There was no need for it. All the boys knew all about sex, at least as far as animal husbandry goes. They had seen animals being bred, baby animals being born, and knew the gestation periods of the various animals( i.e. cows 279-292 days. pigs 112-115 days, horses 330-342 days and so on for all the animals.) As far as actual girls went, the local ones were all prim and proper and, well you might say plain, offering no sexual attraction.

All this changed just after the war when the new family moved into the only rented house in the farming community. They moved directly from England when the father, who was a welder, obtained employment in the shipyard in town. They arrived on August 30 th and no one was more surprised than our new school teacher(who was on her first day of teaching all 8 grades in our one room school) when all five of the new kids turned up for her class in addition to the expected 28 students. The two oldest were the GIRLS!!! They were both in grade 8 and easily as tall and as mature looking as the teacher herself. One of the boys was in grade 7 and the twins were in grade 6.

While I was too young as a fifth grader to do other than observe, the older boys were immediately falling all over themselves trying to get the attention of these "real girls". Firstly, the GIRLS had a strange new accent, secondly they both had dyed hair! Vallee was a peroxide blonde while Cole's was dyed pitch black. They even had some make-up on, but the big thing was their clothes. Compared to the local girls loose fitting blouses and ankle length skirts, Vallee and Cole both wore (shrunk on purpose) sweaters that displayed their wares to great advantage and their skirts barely covered their knees when standing and a lot less when they sat.

The new girls were expert flirts and when they stood in front of a boy, they had this habit of standing too close. If the boy automatically stepped back, they would move in again.They would always look the boy straight in the eye and had a practiced habit of touching his arm or even his hair as they talked. Sometimes Vallee would say to the boy "oh, my heart is beating fast--feel it". She would then take his hand and place it on her breast! Within the first week, all the boys thought one or the other girl was in love with them personally. Needless to say, the poor new teacher had a lot of competition for the attention of all the bigger boys as school work was the last thing on their minds.

For some reason, memory work assignments were a common thing in those days, with a poem selected that had to be memorized each week. Vallee could take any poem and within a few minutes alter it into the lewdest piece of writing imaginable (along the lines of Fanny Hill). This would be passed around secretly during class.

Cole's specialty seemed to be book titles; some examples.

The Tiger's Revenge
by--Claude Balls

Spots on the Wall
by the chinese author
Woo Flung Dung

The Hole in the Mattress
by--Mr. Completely

As I remember, the list of books and their authors grew to over 70

The boys from the rented house were another story.

As usual, September was a time for all the school boys to determine the pecking order for the year. This was done by fist fighting. The local boys would challenge each other to fight after school and while the others watched, the winner would soon be determined, and a later handshake settled the matter of which one was boss at least until a new challenge was presented. Until the kids from the rented house arrived, all fights were fair and square with fists only. The new boys from the rented house had not heard of these unwritten fairness rules and fought to win at any cost, being inclined to use dirty tactics like kicking, hair pulling, using any handy weapon like a stick or lunch pail. If it became obvious that one of them was losing, his brothers would wade in to the battle. Soon the newcomers were kings of the schoolyard.

By October a kind of peace settled in that lasted until Xmas.

NEXT---The Christmas concert

Example of Vallee's altered poem (censored)

Oh she jumped in bed
and covered up her head
and swore I could not find her
I knew damn well
she lied like hell
so I jumped right in behind her
The white of an ---
------ ---- --- ---
--- ---- ---- ---- ------ -----

Going to the movies

To avoid being late, the two of us boys had gone directly from our saturday job to the new movie house in town. It was February 1948 and cold as hell. We lined up in the bitter cold and were the first ones in. We selected prime seats in the center of the theatre.

Mord Millard, the owner of the drugstore, justice of the peace, and multiple property owner in town must also have been a visionary in entertainment. His new movie house was an instant hit with the townspeople and surrounding farm families whose previous mechanical entertainment had consisted of the radio and a crank-up gramophone. Tickets were .15 cents for the movie, news reel, cartoon and previews. On Saturday the same price got you TWO full features. Usually, a cowboy and a musical. For another .10 cents you could splurge and get BOTH popcorn and a soda pop! While the total price of .25 cents equaled an hour's work at our Saturday job, we felt the 41/2 hour's entertainment was a good buy.

We settled into our seats, munching popcorn and soaking up the welcome heat in the movie house, oblivious to all the movement of people away from us. Finally, we noticed that despite the empty seats around us, a lot of people were standing at the back of the theatre. About that time, Mord himself came down the aisle and up our row of seats. He told us in no uncertain terms that we had to leave his theatre NOW.

Our job that Saturday had been cleaning the pig stye for a local farmer. While we had become accustomed to the head clearing odour clinging to our boots and clothes,(it was like a combination of ammonia and mustard gas) even seasoned farmers, some pig farmers themselves, were complaining as the heat brought out ever stronger smell.

While we never saw the movie, Mord did give us back our money and allowed us to keep what was left of our popcorn and pop.

Next---The Rented House

You cannot make a silk
purse out of a sow's ear

Irish proverb

The Last War Blog

It was ten years after the war, both my parents had died, I was working and my oldest brother had recently moved his relatively new bride into the farmhouse.

I had volunteered to help him with the haying on my day off and we were out in the "back fifty" with the tractor and wagon and had on a huge load of bales. All of a sudden he jumped down off the wagon yelling" FIRE!---FIRE!"" and stared running towards a column of smoke he had spotted in the direction of the house. "COME ON-- SOMETHING IS ON FIRE" he called back to me.

(Fire struck fear in the hearts of even the bravest farmers because of the losses suffered to it. In our own case,over the years, fire had taken 1) the barn--kids and matches, 2) the house--chimney fire 3) our father--gasoline fire.)

When we finally got within sight of the house, sure enough, there was a thick pall of smoke around it! He ran in the front door calling for his wife and I ran around back where the smoke seemed the thickest. There to my relief was my new sister-in-law tending to a large bonfire she had started.

When things calmed down a bit, we asked her what she was doing and were told she was"house -cleaning". The fire was obviously made from a large pile of paper that she had soaked with kerosene and it was literally "burning like a house on fire."

Turned out that she had cleaned out the huge bureau in an upstairs bedroom to make room for her "stuff". Trouble was the bureau had contained my brother's collection of every weekly issue of The Starweekly Magazine covering the entire World War II. This magazine was printed in the style of to-day's "Hello" tabloid. It consisted of only pictures with a short paragraph under each to explain them. The pictures were either photographs by war correspondents, or mostly water colour paintings done by war artists. The front cover was always a painting of an attacking airplane, tank, or warship in full colour. The only advertising that I remember was of pin-up girls urging you to buy Victory Bonds. My brother was very meticulous and each copy was in perfect condition. They were all in order of date and tied in a bundle for each year with a red xmas ribbon.

I glanced at my brother whose face was pale despite his farmers tan and he seemed to be almost shaking. Thinking WW lll was about to start any minute, I decided to head for the house for a drink of water. Looking back, I saw him put his arm around her and heard him tell her how worried he had been and how happy he was that she was ok---I guess love conquers all.

NEXT ----Going to the movies


Always remember
to forget
the things that
made you sad.
But never forget
to remember
the things that
made you glad.

_Gaelic insight

Helping The War Effort

During the last week of school in June 1942, a large army truck arrived at our country school.
The two young soldiers unloaded two big bales of jute bags and dragged them right up the steps and into the school. Their appearance seemed to fluster Miss Davis, our 1st year teacher who was not used to dealing with brash young men like these. They took right over and explained to us kids that they were enlisting all of us to help out with the war effort and even better, we would be paid for our work. They then handed Miss Davis some papers and left as quickly as they had arrived.

After studying the papers for a minute or so, Miss Davis enlisted some of the big boys to haul the bales into the library room, out of sight. Curiosity had us all on the edge of our seats, but the teacher told us we would have to wait until the last day of school on Friday to find out more.

You can imagine how excited we were by Friday. Finally, just before we were dismissed for the year, she had the bags dragged back out to the front of the classroom. She told us our
contribution to the war effort was to provide the materials to make synthetic rubber tires for the army and also life preservers for the navy! To our amazement, the army wanted us to pick MILKWEED, leaves (for the milk) for the tires and seed fluff for life preservers ( I think they called the fluff Kapoc). Furthermore they would pay us .08 cents a pound for leaves and .18 cents for fluff!

Since we all lived on farms, and all the farm pastures were full of an endless supply of milkweed, we had pictures of being rich when we cashed in next September. Everyone took several of the huge bags and the instruction sheet. (the report cards we had just received were largely ignored)

It turned out that this project had to be put on hold until August when the seed pods were ripe. They had to be picked first and at just the right time so the fluff was fluffy, but had not blown away. The leaves were to be picked later.

I figured the trick was to pick the pods a little early, take them home and let them dry before breaking them open. This way none would escape on the wind. My disappointment grew as the bags filled with fluff but the scales hardly moved!

Next came the leaves. If you have ever picked a milkweed leaf, you will know that it is almost impossible to do without getting the "milk" on your hands,on face, in your mouth, on your clothes etc. Injesting milkweed milk also makes small boys sick. At least the leaves were heavier than fluff and in my minds eye I could see the money piling up a I weighed each days effort. My father put a pinprick in my dreams of wealth after he read the instruction sheet and pointed out the leaves had to be perfectly dried to avoid mould when packed in the bags. I spread the leaves out on the thrash floor in the barn and when they were dry they did not weigh up much better than the fluff.

I got a ride to school with my bags on the pick-up day. I had calculated my summer's work to be worth $12.60. I complained when the soldier paid me only $12.00 and was told they were rounding DOWN to the nearest dollar.

NEXT -- The last war blog

Life is like a
cup of tea
It's all in how
you make it

Irish Insight

The Soldier

I cannot remember my second oldest brother ever living at home. He and my two sisters left after our house burned down(see FIRE blog). Maybe that is why he seemed bigger than life to me when he returned home a couple years later in an army uniform!

He had obtained employment doing kitchen work at Camp Borden Army Base at age 16 and when WWII broke out, he joined up as soon as his age permitted. My first memory of him was his arrival at home on foot (we were snowed in) on Christmas day 1940. He was all decked out in his dress uniform and over every thing was this fantastic great-coat that swept almost to the ground. He carried a large duffel bag that contained among other things some Xmas gifts and a bottle of wine.

I was 5 years old and had a very loose baby tooth. When mom mentioned that it was interfering with my eating and that no one could get near me to pull it, I guess he took it upon himself to get it from me before dinner. He took me into the parlour and we played the new game he had brought me. He said if I didn't tell anyone, I could have a sip of his wine. After a couple tastes, he told me he knew how he could remove my tooth without pain. The idea was to tie a piece of thread to the tooth and the other end to the door knob. When someone opened the door the tooth would be gone. After a couple more sips of his wine, I agreed to this scheme. We got a long piece of thread which he carefully tied to the offending tooth. When this was completed, he just gave a big jerk on the thread and the tooth was out!! I was pretty mad about this but after a little more wine, we were friends again. I ate up my Xmas dinner, but shortly after began to feel ill. I remember going to bed and then so violently throwing up that some dinner came out through my nose. When I woke up in the morning, he was gone and I never saw him again until the war was over in Europe.

H e was shipped to England where they trained him to be a motorcycle despatch rider responsible for getting messages from field headquarters to the front line. They then waited for the invasion that would be known as D-Day.

He later described the events leading up to D-day as follows: "we were loaded into our landing barge so tightly packed that we could just stand shoulder to shoulder, however the distance across the English Channel is not great and we expected to soon be on the other side. They took us out a short distance then stopped and dropped anchor. Unbeknown to us a huge two-day storm was blowing up that we had to wait out. The boat bounced around like a cork and sprung a slow leak. Soon a lot of us were seasick. By the third day while we were crossing, there was at least 6" of seawater, puke,urine and excrement swirling around our feet. There was no way we were not getting off on the other side."

While he sent irregular letters home, they were heavily censored to the point many of them made little sense.

He later told us his only promotion was to lance corporal, however, it was short lived because he and another chap took his bike and went back to a liberated town to celebrate. On the way back to field headquarters that night, they unexpectedly came upon a square turn in the road and had no choice but to put their feet down and let the bike crash into a stone wall. The new promotion was rescinded the next day.

Although he did not often talk about his war experience, he did tell this story of his only actual combat. "Contrary to what you might expect, the front lines (which I had to visit almost daily with messages) were not very solid, especially if the enemy was in retreat. Such was the case on this particular day. While I knew we were advancing rapidly, I did not know exactly how far the front line was ahead of our temporary field head quarters in an old barn. For safety, I liked to take back country roads (trying to avoid the "piano" wire that was often strung across main roads in an effort to decapitate despatch riders) I also travelled as fast as possible, trying to avoid any sniper fire. I popped over a hill and there before me in the middle of a small pond was a lone German soldier taking a bath! Obviously, I was ahead of the front. His jeep was blocking the narrow road and as soon as he saw me, he started for the shore where I could see his clothes piled up, with his rifle laying on top. It appeared obvious it was going to be either him or me so I started to struggle to get my previously unused pistol out of its holster. By the time my gun was out and cocked, he was almost to the bank. I fired and HIT him with my first shot! He went down momentarily, but was back up in an instant, still thrashing his way to his gun. I kept firing and he kept coming until all I could hear was the clicking of my empty chamber. He was now on his knees in the shallow water and still flailing around in the mud and blood. Having no more bullets, I just stood there and watched for what seemed to be forever until he finally collapsed onto his face and did not move anymore. When I finally got my wits about me, I jumped on my bike and wheeled around the way I had come. The message never got delivered that day and the Sarg. let me stay back for a few days to recover from the shock. "

In another instance, my brother and another biker got ahead of the line and were the first allied soldiers back into Dieppe. The townspeople welcomed them with open arms and kisses and even some spirits they had hidden away during all the years of occupation. This got their names in the papers because Dieppe had been a disastrous pre- D-day raid to test the German defences that ended with many allies captured or killed before being pushed back into the sea.

During the freeing of Holland my brother billeted for a time at a Dutch family's house. The Dutch were well known for their cleanliness and always lined their shoes up outside the front door. Unfortunately, a soldier had to be ready to go at a moments' notice so my brother not only wore his boots in the house, but slept in his uniform (including boots) in one of their beds. The family had a daughter about his age who could speak and write english. I don't know of their relationship, if any, but she started corresponding to my oldest brother at home. She sent him a soap carving of an owl.(which I now have.)

When the war in Europe was over on June5, 1945 the soldiers had an option to either stay in Germany as part of the occupation army or volunteer to go to the Pacific theatre to fight the Japanese. If you volunteered for Japan, you got a 2 month leave at home before going. My brother volunteered.

He arrived home in July and would have to report for duty again on Sept 1. All during his time overseas in Europe, he had a pay assignment in favour of our mother and she had saved every cent for him. I don't know much cash was involved, but it certainly would have been more than he had ever had before! Based on the assumption that his wartime good luck could not hold out forever, he and my older brother went into a party mode like few people had seen! War rationing was still on with gasoline and alcohol (as well as other things) in short supply. My oldest farming brother had a car, and as a farmer, received extra gas ration coupons. These were like gold to townfolk who would readily trade their booze coupons. This combination of car, gas, booze coupons and a ready supply of man hungry girls (especially for one in a uniform) plus the soldier boys' money led to what I am told was quite a summer!

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end and on Aug 14, 1945 (with the money starting to run low), the atomic bombs brought an end to the war. This left soldier boy without a job and no money. Luckily for him , he had met another armed forces member who very shortly became his wife and together they raised a family of ten!

Next-- Helping The War Effort

"a drink precedes a story"

Irish proverb

Digging Indian Relics

When the first white men arrived in the area of the farm in the early 1600's, the Huron Indians already lived, fought and farmed right where our farm became located in the early 1900's. The French explorers (Champlain and Brule) soon brought out the Jesuit priests to convert the "savages". They were somewhat successful, unfortunarely, they unknowingly spread the white mans European diseases against which the Indian had no immunity. This killed off many Indians and so weakened the tribe that their traditional enemies, the Iroquios, from south of lake Ontario were able to defeat them. During the last battles, the Iroquios martyred two of the priests (fathers Bebrouf & Lalemont) by tying them to a stake and burning them alive. They spiced up the event by placing red hot hatchet heads around their necks like necklaces. After this, the remaining Hurons escaped by water and settled several hundred miles away near Sault Ste. Marie. The Jesuits returned to France, the Iroquios back to what would become USA. For over 150 years after this event the area was virtually vacant of humans.

Evidence of the old Indian villages was easily detected by the blackened earth from their campfires that showed up when our fields were ploughed. There were at least 3 such sites on our farm. Most farmers ignored the sites, but my oldest brother took a keen interest in the tobacco pipes, arrowheads, beading, pottery etc. and he accumulated a large collection of these relics. He also did some research of the detailed records left by the Jesuits. Taking their descriptions of Indian village locations and using an arial map of the area, he was able to come up with the approximate location of the villages. His hobby became the actual finding of the villages by way of pick and shovel. He located 16 villages, many not in farmers fields, but in the bush. The latter were the best for finding artifacts as they had not been disturbed by the plow.

Many years after leaving the farm, I would,when visiting on a week-end, accompany my brother on one of his "digs". We would carefully clear off the surface debris and using shovels and trowels, sift through the soil to a depth of about one foot, or until the earth was no longer black from the long ago fires. I guess we were essentially digging through the Indian's garbage of broken tools and containers. Can you imagine the feelings of the Indian whose finely-crafted pinch- face tobacco pipe somehow got broken? (he threw the damn thing into the fire). Most of our finds would be nondescript pieces of broken pottery, animal bones etc. Once in a while, a fine piece would be located and the trip would be declared a success.

My best find was what appears to be some sort of idol in the form of a person crouching on his hands and knees. Aside from being something completely different from all the other artifacts in form, and material, it is carved from some kind of stone that is foreign to the area. Archeologists who have seen it lick their lips in anticipation of somehow obtaining the piece from me. They all say the piece appears to be of a soapstone substance similar to that used by the eskimo and would have to have been traded through many hands to arrive in Huronia before the year 1600

My brothers collection grew until it rivaled The Toronto Museum's. Unfortunately, he met a smooth American trader who wheedled many of his best artifacts in exchange for material goods i.e. movie camera, projector, fine fishing rod etc. (just like other white men traded trinkets with Indians years ago for fine furs and even land). After his death, his remaining collection went to my nephew who is keeping it in good care.

In addition to the above described rare piece, I also have the remains of my friend Aggie's family collection (see blog--Neighbour) . This past year the curator of the Huronia Museum made a valiant effort to obtain this small collection from me, going so far as sending me a $200 heritage receipt for tax purposes in exchange for a few tiny pottery shards I gave him instead of throwing them out for cluttering the bottom of my box. At that rate, the whole collection must be almost invaluable.

Next--The Soldier

"he who comes with a story
to you brings two away
from you"

Irish proverb