Canada The Unknown Country


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All things Canadian: History, Politics, Culture, Legends, Folklore, People, Nature and Art.
“There can be no dedication to Canada’s future without a knowledge of its past.” -Prime Minister John Diefenbaker

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Gordon Clarance Jamerson, 47th Battalion
Born in Toronto, Ontario in 1897, the son of Gordon Jamerson and Florence English. Florence remarried to William Duke and they came to settle in the Horseshoe Valley near Stillwater, BC, where they had a nice homestead. Because Gordon didn’t really live in Powell River as it was then, he was not included on its Cenotaph. For this reason I’d especially like to include him here. When he enlisted at Vancouver on Sept. 28, 1915, joining the 47th Battalion, his occupation was listed as a “rancher,” and his residence was listed as “Stillwater, BC.” He was killed on Nov. 11, 1916 in an attack near Courcelette, during the Battle of Ancre Heights. Gordon has no know grave and his name in commemorated on the Vimy Ridge Memorial. He was 19 years old.


Cpl. Gordon Charles Cole, Canadian Engineers
Born in 1886 in Keewatin, Ontario, the son of Robert and Catherine Cole of Powell River. He enlisted at Vancouver on Nov. 9, 1914. He was a machinist in the Powell River Mill. Arthur Dunn wrote that “Gordon Cole was the first [from Powell River] to be killed. He was a machinist and worked in the shops here. Son of Bob Cole, mill carpenter who was also one of our three magistrates.” Gordon joined the 3rd Tunnelling Co. of the Canadian Engineers. He was “Killed in Action” in the “vicinity of Hill 60,” near Zillebeke, Belgium on Nov. 23, 1916. He would have been involved in the tunnelling operations around there, one of which was the Catterpillar mine which was detonated in 1917, and its crater is still visible today. He is buried in the Berks Cemetery Extension, Belgium. He was eleven days short of his 30th birthday.




https://youtu.be/QMZqXCReST8?si=3eeURZDG7bIUg9r5
This Poem/Song was written by Rudyard Kipling in 1916. They say the inspiration for it came from the story of young sailor Jack Cornwell who died in the Battle of Jutland. He was posthumously awarded the Victoria Cross. Many think he also wrote it as a personal expression of the loss of his son John in 1915. John disappeared and the Kiplings tried long and hard to find out what happened to him. John’s remains weren’t identified until 1992. Sung by English folk singer Peter Bellamy, it is a very poignant song when you think about all the men that never came back…




The Vimy Ridge Memorial was dedicated on July 26, 1936 by King Edward VIII in the presence of many Canadian and Allied dignitaries and civilians, over 50,000 people in all. Special passports were issued for the “Vimy Pilgrimage.” The names of 11,285 Canadian soldiers who have no known grave are carved on the base, including four men from Powell River.




Wartime Prime Minister Sir Robert Borden speaking on the occasion of the official dedication of the Vimy Memorial in 1936.


Lt. Henry Alfred Carter, 29th Battalion
Born in 1889 in Enfield, England the son of Alfred and Eleanor Carter of Park Avenue, Enfield. He enlisted at Vancouver on Nov. 9th, 1914. His height is listed as 6’0”, rather tall for the time. For his occupation he said he was a “Lumberman,” and Arthur Dunn wrote that “Harry Carter was a lumber yard foreman” and later became commissioned officer in the forces. He served with B Company in the 29th Battalion. Records state that Henry was “Killed in Action” on Aug. 21, 1917 near Lens, France, which corresponds with the dates of the Battle of Hill 70. He has no known resting place, and his name is carved on the Vimy Ridge Memorial. He was 27 years old.


Ralph Bryanton, 102nd Battalion
Born in 1898 in Charlottetown, PEI, the son of Charles Bryanton, of Powell River. Ralph was living at the Manitoba Hotel at the time of his enlistment on Feb. 3, 1916, he had just turned 18 years old. His occupation is listed as “finisher.” He was killed on April 15, 1918 during the German “Spring Offensive” that year. The cause of death is listed as “died of wounds in the field, France.” He is buried in the La Targette Cemetery near Arras. Arthur Dunn wrote “Ralph Bryanton was a mere boy when he was killed. He was the son of Charles Bryanton, woodmill electrician. Ralph didn’t have much of a boyhood…” He was 20 when he died.


Alexander Dickie Black, 7th Battalion
Born 1891 in Edinburgh, Scotland
Died on 24 September, 1917 at Leivin, France, when he was shot by a sniper while walking through a shallow trench. His obituary says that he had a high sense of duty and fairness towards his fellow soldiers. He is buried in Aix-Noulette Cemetery. Arthur Dunn, long tome Powell River resident wrote in 1960: “Alex Black was the only son of W. Black, who was “colour boss” in the beater room [at the Powell River Mill]. Alex was just a youth and his death was a terrible blow to his parents.” He was 19 years old.


THE GLORIOUS DEAD
THE Great War is past ; the war that tried through and through every quality and mystery of the human mind and the might of human spirit ; the war that closed, we hope for ever, the long, ghastly story of the arbitrament of men's differences by force; the last clash and crash of earth's millions is over now. There can be heard only sporadic conflicts, the moan of prostrate nations, the cries of the bereaved and desolate, the struggling of exhausted peoples to rise and stand and move onward. We live among the ruins and the echoes of Armageddon. Its shadow is receding slowly backward into history.
At this time the proper occupation of the living is, first, to honour our heroic dead; next, to repair the havoc, human and material, that surrounds us; and, lastly, to learn aright and apply with courage the lessons of the war.
Here in the heart of Europe we meet to unveil a memorial to our country's dead. In earth which has resounded to the drums and tramplings of many conquests, they rest in the quiet of God's acre with the brave of all the world. At death they sheathed in their hearts the sword of devotion, and now from oft-stricken fields, they hold aloft its cross of sacrifice, mutely beckoning those who would share their immortality. No words can add to their fame, nor so long as gratitude holds a place in men's hearts can our forgetfulness be suffered to detract from their renown. For as the war dwarfed by its magnitude all contests of the past, so the wonder of human resource, the splendour of human heroism, reached a height never witnessed before.
Ours we thought prosaic days, when the great causes of earlier times had lost their inspiration, leaving for attainment those things which demanded only the petty passing inconveniences of the hour. And yet the nobility of manhood had but to hear again the summons of duty and honour to make response which shook the world. Danger to the treasury of common things — for common things when challenged are the most sacred of all, — danger to these things ever stirred our fathers to action, and it has not lost its appeal to their sons.
France lives and France is free, and Canada is the nobler for her sacrifice to help free France to live. In many hundreds of plots throughout these hills and valleys, all the way from Flanders to Picardy, lie fifty-thousand of our dead. Their resting-places have been dedicated to their memory forever by the kindly grateful heart of France, and will be tended and cared for by us in the measure of the love we bear them. Above them are being planted the maples of Canada, in the thought that her sons will rest the better in the shade of trees they knew so well in life. Across the leagues of the Atlantic the heartstrings of our Canadian nation will reach through all time to these graves in France ; we shall never let pass away the spirit bequeathed to us by those who fell ; 'their name liveth for evermore.’”
-Speech given by Canadian Prime Minister Arthur Meighen at the unveiling of the Cross at Thelus Military Cemetery near Vimy Ridge, France, July 3rd, 1921.


“The Glorious Dead,” a speech given by the eloquent Canadian Prime Minister Arthur Meighen at the unveiling of the Cross and the Thelus Military Cemetery in France, July 3, 1921.




Coming up to the 105th Anniversary Remembrance Day, I have some interesting posts and videos planned. More than 100 years on, and with our societies changing more and more by the day, it is paramount that the memories of these men be kept alive by us. Many of these men never had any children, and as they may have no living descendants today, our duty for all of us to remember them should be even stronger. But first we must know who they were. I’d like them to not just be a name, carved or engraved, only to be read out once a year. So, I’ll be presenting some information and research that I’ve found about the men who died in WWI, who are listed on my local cenotaph. I also have several poignant war poems in mind as well. Lest We Forget…


An Old Nova Scotia Superstition for How to Make a Magic Bullet on Hallowe’en Night 👻(not recommended 😅💀):
Take the skull of a man and set it down on the ground. Fire one shot at the moon and three drops of blood will come down from the moon and fall into the eye of the skull. Take a bullet (really a musket ball, this is an old, old superstition) and place it into the eyes of the skull. Take this bullet and put it in your gun (musket) and you can fire and hit any enemy “at all.” If you do happen to miss your target, the bullet will return to you and land back in your own pocket!
~Source: “Bluenose Magic: Popular Beliefs and Superstitions in Nova Scotia,” by Helen Creighton, 1968.



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