Working on the Memory Project: Stories of the Second World War is incredibly rewarding. In meeting Second World War veterans and listening to their stories, I realize that every story is vastly different and every person has a unique perspective and experience. When I first starting my work with the Project, I felt shy and took on a very formal style in my approach with the veterans. I was perhaps overly sensitive and mindful of the fact that I was asking someone in their 80s to dig up what were probably some of the darkest memories of their lives - events that occurred over 65 years ago. Now, with a number of interviews under my belt, I continue to be taken aback by the number of times a veteran will turn to me and say “thank you”. I realize now that while we are asking for something from them, the very opportunity to sit and have someone listen to their stories gives them a deep sense of affirmation as well. This is a project that is mutually beneficial beyond words.
“These things stick with you.” I hear this said regularly. Wet uniforms, slit trenches, back-to-back sorties, hammocks, civilian casualties, facing the enemy, losing comrades. These things stick with you. I joined The Memory Project: Stories of the Second World War as a Research and Collections Officer in July of this year, just as the project was getting off the ground. My job is to find Second World War veterans, and record their stories about their time in the services. Everyone on our team knew, even before we had spoken with our first veteran, that completing this project was going to be an intense, inspiring and deeply moving experience. I don’t think I understood, however, just how important this work would be. Three months into the project, I have interviewed close to fifty veterans in three provinces. Their stories cover almost every theatre of the war, with many veterans recounting their experiences within the same battle. Yet no two narratives are the same: Col. (Ret.) Bernard Finestone from Montreal recounts his armoured unit’s role in the brutal battles throughout Italy, including Ortona and Monte Casino – and about the constant stress involved with ground battle; Private Helen Jean Crawley talks about the girls she worked with on the searchlights and about learning to ride a motorcycle as a dispatch rider in England; Pilot Officer Malcolm Andrade, originally from British Guyana, now in Toronto, recalls an operation with his Tactical Flying unit, #127 Squadron, to attack a German SS column on the ground and the one German dispatch officer who tried to get away; Corporal John Franken, an air mechanic trainee with the Dutch Naval Airforce is haunted by the cruelty he witnessed and endured during his three and a half years as a Prisoner of War in the Japanese camps, and about the number of times his life was spared by fate, chance or plain old luck. The stories are amazing, almost unbelievable- the things ordinary people were made to endure. What moves me the most, though, is the generosity and courage the veterans show in sharing these memories. It becomes obviously difficult for many to relive some of their darker moments, but they do it. They take us there, back into the cockpits and trenches, the engine rooms and mess halls. I feel honoured to be on the other end of the phone or sitting across the table - to be the one with whom they share their stories. Often, their own families are unaware of these stories. Many times a veteran will say he or she feels honoured that I’m even asking. To me, that’s the real value of The Memory Project: we’re asking. Each veteran holds a piece of the puzzle, each story is important when trying to understand the impact war can have. We’re asking. We want to know. It’s extremely easy to romanticize this period of history and the battles fought and won, but that seems of little value to the vets I’ve spoken to. They are unsentimental in their telling, and pull no punches about the good times the war provided, as well as the difficulties, challenges and horrors they experienced, and in some cases, continue to experience. They just want people to know what happened, and to remember the people that died. I have learned more in these three months, than from all the history classes I’ve ever taken, combined. I’m learning about the sheer geographic scope of the war, which I didn’t understand; about the strategies utilized and politics involved. I’m also learning a lot about Canada and about what it means to be Canadian. The people we are interviewing for this archive – now in their 80’s and 90’s - have an entirely unique perspective on just about everything. They are the last generation, en masse, who understand what it means to protect something, to lose and to win. They know what it means to sacrifice and they know about the real costs of war. These things are sticking with me.
Welcome to the Memory Project: Stories of the Second World War project blog! This space will be home to a behind-the-scenes look at the work of our interviewers and researchers as they travel coast to coast collecting the stories and memorabilia of Second World War veterans. Fresh off the road from Montreal, the Memory Project team is gathering steam as we launch into our busiest time – the season of Remembrance. We met with and collected many amazing stories from WWII veterans at Sunnybrook Hospital in Toronto at the end of September. Next we were off to meet with Montreal veterans at the VAC Hospital in Ste-Anne de Bellevue in the West Island of Montreal on October 1st where the Liaison-Day Centre staff treated us like gold and made for a smooth day of interviewing and documentation – thanks again guys! Finally we hosted luncheon at L’Hôtel de l’institut in downtown Montreal on October 2nd where vets caught up over a delicious meal and shared some of their memories with our team. With the stories and memorabillia gathered at these events, we are excited to see our new website go live. Keep checking back for updates as our team works around the clock to get new profiles recorded and online!
I started working for The Memory Project: Stories of the Second World War on Wednesday, September 16, 2009 with no real idea of what it would be like to actually record veterans’ stories from the Second World War. A week later, I was at Sunnybrook Hospital in Toronto interviewing veterans for the first time, and I learned quickly that recording stories is quite different from listening to stories. Simply recording stories implies we do not listen and share in the story; on the other hand, listening to stories means we connect with the storyteller and become involved in his/her story. At Sunnybrook, I interviewed my first veteran of the entire project, then Flying Officer Joseph Hawkins, RCAF. Mr. Hawkins’ story of how he was an air gunner in the belly of a Halifax Bomber clarified to me the difference between recording and listening. He survived 36 sorties, and described for me what the world looked like from the aircraft as bombs were dropped, “What a jungle it was down there. Fire, fire, bombs flying and aircraft lying down, being shot down. It was just a great big furnace down there.” His words made me listen, and fully appreciate the stories that I am recording for this project.