Remembrance Day always gives me pause – it’s supposed to. I have no actual memories of what I’m remembering but my parents did and they used to remember in vivid detail – especially on Remembrance Day.
My Dad was seventeen when he enlisted in the Navy – World War Two was well underway. He was a kid by today’s standards but gung-ho nevertheless.
Dad grew up in Winnipeg, smack dab in the middle of the country. It made perfect sense for a landlubber like him to join the navy, he had sea legs that had never been tested and a stomach made of steel. He was assigned to a Corvette, the HMCS Rosthern, and did his service on the North Atlantic.
Dad hit the deck of the Rosthern with the gusto of a teenager tiger escaping the zoo.
I remember him telling us stories about being so seasick he thought he’d die, about chipping ice off the ship in the middle of the Atlantic so it wouldn’t roll over in a storm and about trying to smuggle rum onboard and getting caught. But our favorite story by far was the one about the mutiny he was thrown in jail for starting.
I don’t remember the details of this story like my brother might but I’m doing the telling so you’re stuck with this….
The Rosthern was headed back to Halifax after many weeks at sea – the crew had been promised furlough once the ship docked. Everyone was in high spirits – shoes were being polished, plans were being made. And then the pin was pulled – all leave was cancelled. The crew was directed to stay on board and detail the ship (swab the decks, batten the hatches and scrub the kitchen). All hell broke loose.
I have no idea what a twentieth century mutiny entailed – suffice to say several crew members were arrested and thrown in the clink.
Dad did six months in the slammer spending his time reading the Seaman’s Manual and The Bible and peeling potatoes.
Yup – we loved that story. Our Dad, the bad apple…
I remember and I am grateful for all the kids (Bad apples and all) who enlisted and made it possible for me to do the remembering…
THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE
