Ideas - Pt 1: What Came After: Canadian Veterans Share Postwar Experiences

Episode Date: November 8, 2024

Even when wars end, they go on — transforming the people who fought them, their families, and even society. More than 200 veterans were interviewed for a project by the Canadian War Museum called In Their Own Voices. The initiative explores the profound changes that come after veterans return home. *This is part one of a two-part series.

Hey there, I'm Kathleen Goltar and I have a confession to make. I am a true crime fanatic. I devour books and films and most of all true crime podcasts. But sometimes I just want to know more. I want to go deeper. And that's where my podcast Crime Story comes in. Every week I go behind the scenes with the creators of the best in true crime. I chat with the host of Scamanda, Teacher's Pet, Bone Valley, the list goes on. For the insider scoop, find Crime Story in your podcast app. This is a CBC Podcast. The sadness wasn't because the war was over. The sadness was the good times came to an end.

Even at 98 years of age, Alex Poloan remembered the music he played back then. He remembered D-Day, and the moment the Second World War finally ended. For him, and for so many soldiers coming home, it was a moment both liberating and frightening, like staring into the abyss. The thought of

where now? What are you going to do for the rest of your life, that's very, very frightening. Why was that frightening for you? Asking the questions is Michael Petru, a former war correspondent and now historian of veterans' experience at the Canadian War Museum. He's spearheading an initiative by the museum called In Their Own Voices Oral History Project, gathering memories not so much of war experiences, but of what came after. And Michael is now joining

me here. Who are the veterans that you've been speaking to? Well, they're everybody. We've tried to capture the diversity of the Canadian veterans' experience. So this begins with veterans of the Second World War, and we've been very lucky. We managed to interview over 40 who served in the Second World War up to the age of 104 years old, right through to much younger veterans who returned from Afghanistan and Iraq and peacetime too.

So it ranges from centenarians to much younger men and women from all over the country. We've interviewed more than 200 and we've tried to reflect as best we can the entirety of the veterans experience that exists in living memory now. Welcome to Ideas. I'm Nala Ayed. Over the next two episodes, we'll be featuring excerpts from Michael's conversations, starting with veterans of the Second World War, taking him back to the moment when the guns stopped firing and the bewildering

days that came after. Advance Britannia! Long live the cause of freedom! God save the King! We were down among all the crowds down in Trafalgar Square and just with everybody just, oh, just, I don't know, going wild and screaming and just shouting and everything. So we just joined in. Edith McFarlane of the Canadian Women's Army Corps was in London after she was deployed there to serve in the Casualty Office.

How did you feel to get that news and to be there? Glad it was over and that there wasn't going to be any more damage like that because some of the damage was just, it was just so bad. Knowing that that was finished, it was really a good feeling. The world was happy. I am Ken Lett, a former member of the Royal Canadian Air Force where I reached the rank of Major General. And before that, I was a farm boy in the Ottawa Valley. And

everybody, particularly in Chester where we were, they couldn't do enough for you what did they want to do? anything as I say fill my car with gas didn't charge me of course it was Russian anyway if you

go into a bar you have a mug of beer it was a joy that a mug of beer. It was a joy that couldn't be repeated, I don't think. It was just a kind of relief. It's all over. Today is October 18, 2022. My name is Michael Petrou.

I'm a historian at the Canadian War Museum. I'm interviewing Mr. Aubrey Ingram, a Second World War veteran of the Merchant Navy. We are speaking as part of the In Their Own Voices oral history program at the Canadian War Museum. And we are meeting in Mr. Ingram's house in Middleton, Nova Scotia. Where were you when the war ended? Actually, the day the war ended, I was ashore in Halifax. Yeah.

Tell me about that day. Well, there was a riot in Halifax because the liquor stores were closed and every business window on cardigan street and baron street and hollis street every single window was broken there was probably a foot of plate glass on each street. I'm not kidding. You can probably get it from some other source. I actually was there and saw it. That's the first time in my life I ever saw a drunken woman. How did you feel personally about the war being over?

Well, naturally, I was very happy but at the time I would have shot any German or killed any German I ever came across at that time that's how I felt well I've since, you know, got over that, but that's how you feel after a time like that. At least I did. It is November 29, 2022. I am meeting with Eleanor Thompson, a veteran of the Canadian Women's Army Corps during the Second World War. And today we are meeting in Ms. Thompson's home in King City, Ontario. Tell me about the day the war ended, the war in the Pacific ended.

We'd been 12 miles out in the ocean on a picnic. And we came back and we were putting the boat away. And they said, the war's over with us. So we partied all night, and then we had to go and change our clothes and go on parade without any sleep. What was the joke you told each other about why the Japanese had surrendered?

Well, they saw us coming, that's all. They saw these 12 girls coming, and they got scared. So, tell me about your emotions when the war ended. I mean, you partied and paraded, but how did you feel inside? Well, relieved, because a lot of our friends would not be killed. I mean, we had lots of friends in the Army and the Air Force and the Navy, and we knew they had less of a chance of getting killed. You stayed in the Army for a little while after the war, yes?

Yeah, well, to give them time to demob the men. We had that, and then when that was more or less eased off, then I was in Vancouver then, Army headquarters in Vancouver. And we took the prisoners of war coming back from Japan, and they came through us. And I had to go up to Vancouver Military Hospital and interview them. I had to go up to Vancouver Military Hospital and interview them. And the worst thing was, I mean, they were all very, they were thin and, you know, bones sticking out and everything, but they were jovial.

Okay, today is July 18th, 2022, and I'm here with Alex Polowin, a Royal Canadian Navy veteran of the Second World War, who served in the Battle of the Atlantic on the Murmansk Run at D-Day during the sinking of the German battleship, the Scharnhorst. And we are meeting today in Mr. Pullivan's home in Ottawa. You told me earlier that when the war ended, you felt a little bit of sadness. Why? The sadness wasn't because the war was over. The sadness was the good times came to an end.

And when you get into Halifax and you saw all those warships tied up with no crew on there, you know, the thought of where now? What's the rest of your life? What are you going to do for the rest of your life? That's very, very frightening. What am I going to do for the rest of your life? What are you going to do for the rest of your life? That's very, very frightening. What am I going to do for the rest of my life? Why was that frightening for you? I wasn't trained for anything.

I wasn't trained to go to university. I just, I was shook up. When you're on a gun like that, and it may be fire 50 rounds in a battle, it does something to you. I don't care what anybody will tell you. You're just not strong enough to handle it. You get, what do they call it, the first world war, shell shock. That's what happens. I believe that you're a bit shell shocked, if not a lot.

And you don't think the right way. You can't concentrate. You know, it's good, it's over, you're safe now, but what are you going to do for the rest of your life? The ballgame is over. I was happy the war ended. I was very sad. I cried and I cried and I cried for the boys who gave their lives that I and a few others were able to live to come home and see our mother. Those poor boys, they gave their all. I cried and I cried and I cried

and the Dutch people comforted me. That's how I felt. I don't believe in wars, and I hope it never happens again. Today is March 14th, 2023. I'm here with Reg Harrison, a Second World War veteran of the Royal Canadian Air Force. And we are meeting in Reg's home in Saskatoon. You had a nickname during the war. What was that? Crash. How did you get that nickname? Well, I survived four plane crashes,

so I guess I came by it honestly. And you came home after the 19th mission, right? Yes. How did you feel when you got back home here to Saskatchewan and your family's home? After being there even less than a week, I felt almost like I did when I joined the Air Force. It just seemed that I'd been lifted and moved

onto another planet. Everything was so quiet. And when you're on a squadron, there's always aircraft either warming up or they're testing them or they're flying overhead. And it was just something happening. Unless, of course, the weather was bad, which it often was. But after about 10 days or so on, I wished I was back in England. Because it was just, well, it was entirely different.

Everything was so quiet and no excitement. It's just changed. I think it just changed me completely. One thing the war did was open Reg's eyes to the world and to a whole army of new friends. You met some special people during those years, too. Can you tell us about your friend, Buddy? Yeah, I often think of Buddy. Every day he goes by, I don't think of Buddy. Yeah, I often think of Buddy. Hardly ever days go by that I don't think about him. He was just like he was born,

raised in Ottawa, and he was tall, a good-looking guy. Just the opposite to me. He was about at least a foot taller. I just considered myself average, but he always seemed to be able to do things better than I. I used to kid him he wanted to play table tennis and of course I'd never seen a table tennis on the farm and although he had a

pool hall in Lorley I never played any pool but he liked to play pool and played to play snooker. I used to kid him. I said, the reason you like to do that is because you always beat me. So Buddy had a fiancée. Yes, yes. Apparently they went to school together. They lived in the same neighbourhood in Ottawa.

And they went to the same, I don't know whether they went to the same public school, but definitely went to the same high school. And he would often ask you to add a note to Jean in his letters to her. Yeah. Yeah, I often wondered just what prompted him to do that, because every time he would write to her, he'd say, Okay, I'm writing to Jean. He said, I want you to put a footnote on there.

And I'd always say, Well, I don't to Jean. He said, I want you to put a footnote on there. And I'd always say, well, I don't know Jean. He'd always say, and he always emphasized this, he said, you never know, someday you might meet her. Put something down. I just don't even remember what I wrote. But I always put something down. But then, just like that, Buddy was gone, killed in an airplane accident. Reg wrote to Buddy's fiancée, Jean, this time on his own.

Yeah, I wrote to Jean then and told her that I was really sorry to hear about Buddy had been killed, but I said if I survived the war, I said, well, I'll stop and see you. Well, a lot took place from the time I made my first trip until I did the 19th trip because there were three other crashes in between, but when I did get back to Lachine, Quebec, on my way home, I made up my mind I wasn't going to stop because I didn't know what to say to Jean. And I'd already wired my folks at Melville and told them when I'd be there. I phoned, it was a Saturday afternoon, and Jean wasn't home. Her sister Angela was there she said well when will you be arriving

in Navarroa and I said well I won't be arriving Angela, I said well I've worried my folks and I said I told them when I'd be there so I'm sorry I won't be able to stop she said well my sister

is going to be so disappointed she wants to talk to you about Buddy and I said well I'm sorry but I won't be able to stop. She said, well, my sister's going to be so disappointed. She wants to talk to you about Buddy. And I said, well, I'm sorry, but I won't be able to. So I hung up the phone. And then some little voice said to me, you know, your good friend Buddy, he gets killed in the only accident he's in. You survived four plane crashes. The least you can do is go and see her. So I got up and I occurred then.

It took about two hours, I think. I called back again and Jean was home. And she said, oh, my sister told me you weren't going to stop. And I said, well, I've changed my mind. I said, I'm going to stop. So when will you be coming? I said, Gene, I have no idea. There's hundreds of airmen here.

I said, we're at Lachine Quebec. I said, they have to sort us all out, put us on a train. So I said, I'll let you know when the trains are going to arrive in Ottawa. When we got to Ottawa, I'd never been in a station before, but there's huge pillars, and the place was full of airmen greeting one another, and I was sitting on my kit bag, and I looked across, and I saw two women, and they were looking at a picture, and I thought,

hmm, maybe that's Jean and her sister. I'll go and check. So I got my kit back. It was quite heavy. And I remember dragging it across the floor and go there. And I said, are you ladies looking for someone? They said, yeah, we're looking for a flight lieutenant, Harrison. Oh, I said, I'm a flight lieutenant.

My name is Harrison. Maybe you're looking for me. So that's how we met. Second World War veteran Reg Harrison, in conversation with Michael Petrou, historian at the Canadian War Museum. You're listening to Ideas on CBC Radio 1 in Canada, on US Public Radio, across North America on Sirius XM, in Australia on ABC Radio National, on World Radio Paris, and around the world at cbc.ca slash ideas. You can also find us on the CBC News app and wherever you get your podcasts. I'm Nala Ayyad. Hey there, I'm David Common.

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In 2022, the Canadian War Museum began an oral history project aimed at recording the experiences of war veterans in their own voices. That's the name of the project, In Their Own Voices. Michael Petroux, who leads the project, spoke with veterans of all of Canada's wars, not only about the combat, but about the profound changes that came after they returned home. Michael Petroux joins me now again. These were not typical veteran interviews. They were not purely about what they did during war. Your focus was on what happened after the war. Why?

What I wanted to get at was not necessarily, you know, these troops moved here and this is how the battle unfolded. It's what do you remember? How did it smell? How do you feel now? How does that affect you even today? So the battlefield history, I mean, that's important and there's a role for oral history there.

But this was a different history. It's the history of the echoes of war and military service, those ripples of a war that continue to shape the lives of people that participated in it for years and decades after, and even generations. So it's just a different history than, you know, it's not the history of war or military service. It's the history of what happens afterwards, how the war and the military service shapes you when it's not the history of war or military service. It's the history of what happens afterwards,

how the war and the military service shapes you when it's done. You asked, I think, most of the veterans how their war experiences changed them. Was there one theme that was more common than others that emerged in answer to that question? Only that everybody's changed. I mean, everybody pays a price. Everybody has changed in some ways,

but not necessarily in painful or damaging ways. I think one of the really important themes emerged in the course of these interviews is a number of veterans, their life trajectory was shifted because of their service. And it could be in subtle ways, such as opening up to new perspectives and new people. A number of Second World War veterans I talked to benefited enormously from the Veterans Charter. This was, you know, a series of legislation after the Second World War that helped veterans go back to school. It helped veterans maybe buy a house or buy land. And you have to imagine if you're someone that had a grade four, grade five education, your life was likely going to unfold

in one way. And now all of a sudden you have access to opportunities that weren't there before. one way. And now all of a sudden you have access to opportunities that weren't there before. So everybody's changed and, you know, we tackle, you know, post-traumatic stress and some of the other traumas that are an after effect of conflict as well. But I think it's important to reflect the full picture. And the full picture also involves veterans who enjoyed what they did, are proud of what they did, whose life is likely benefited from their service. Karine LaChapelle is a veteran, and the way she phrased it is, she said, you know, we're not broken. And I think she's alluding to this stereotype. There are people that feel perhaps more uplifted by their service than other people who have paid a harsher price, I suppose.

What kind of impact are you hoping that these interviews and the project as a whole will ultimately have? In Canada, I think we have a tendency to wall off, I think, conflict to the extent that we do confront it and examine it and think about it, which we probably don't as much as we should. I think there's a tendency to think that a conflict happens between this year and that year, that a conflict happens between this year and that year, and maybe we'll study that very narrow element, and then it's over.

But it's not over for the veterans. It's not over for their loved ones. But it's not over for our communities and our country as well. Canada has been shaped profoundly by war. The Second World War had radical impacts on the way Canadian society is structured, on the political and social rights of certain marginalized people. During the Second World War, the fact that Chinese Canadians and Japanese Canadians had served was instrumental in their post-war struggle for greater equity. So those ripples from war reshaped Canadian society.

It's not a discrete thing, war. It continues to have these impacts, not just on the veterans, not just on the families, but on entire communities and countries as well. It's a lifelong injury to me, PTSD. It does go away. My name is Hilliard Kapiswat. I'm from North Balfour, Saskatchewan, currently. But I grew up in Cotian, Saskatchewan,

and that's by the Provincial Park in North Balfour. I come from a First Nation community called Musman First Nation. I'm Cree, and right now I am at 55 years old. What happened was when I got back from Afghanistan, I had a lot of issues. I started having PTSD. I couldn't sleep on a bed. I had to go sleep outside on a deck. I used to get these hot flashes. I'd be driving down the road. I'd see a hole inside the road. I'd kind of swerve off, almost cause an accident.

See people on phones. I'd feel so uneasy. If they're staring, you'd have that feeling that they're talking about you. You always had that feeling that they're talking about you. You always had that feeling. It was uneasiness, and you kind of secluded yourself and then started going back to drinking. I started drinking lots. To me, I always thought I had a survivor's guilt.

Like, why was it me that my friends, some of them got killed over there, but why wasn't it on me? When I had a friend tell me before we left, my mom was sitting there, that the day the bus picked us up, and he said, he was crying to me, he said, I don't want to go die over there, I don't want to go die, like, are you going to take care of me if we go over there? And his girlfriend was standing there, and told me, I'm going to take care of you, you know? I assured him that he was. And yeah, he went and died over there.

I found myself sitting in the back of a lab, not unable to hear, unable to stand. And my soldiers were still out on the ground fighting for their lives. And at that moment, and even now, part of me feel that, you know, I failed them, that our team failed them. And the fact that I wasn't on the ground to help them is something that I live with every day. live with every day. It's July 5th, 2022. I'm speaking with John Burns, a veteran of Cold War, of the first Gulf War, of peacekeeping missions in the former Yugoslavia, end of the war in Afghanistan. You've, again, had a long and varied military career, but it seems that Afghanistan and Operation Medusa had a unique impact on you. Is that fair to say?

Absolutely. I mean, I say it was the best and the worst days of my life. And people kind of don't know, how can it be both? Well, I mean, the worst days of my life, because I lost friends, I lost soldiers, I saw them die in front of me, I saw them bleeding out in front of me. But I also saw young Canadian men and women be heroes. Things that, you know, we only hear about in movies, watching these young kids running through a hail of bullets to help somebody else was very, very enlightening for me. So the best and the worst days of my life. When you left Afghanistan, you write that you felt both relief and joy, but again, that sense of guilt.

I wonder if you can explain that. And the guilt, you know, there was one specific soldier that died who was a friend of mine that I really feel guilt towards because I had an opportunity that I had an opportunity beforehand to perhaps change the outcome of that one incident I mean one officer Frank Mellish was a good friend of mine and I had been asked several times about not sending him to Afghanistan, that his family didn't feel he was in the right place to go. From a leadership perspective, we saw none of that. Warrant Officer Mellish was at the top of his game, the best warrant officer we had. And then, you know, I'm sitting in the back of the lab and he's laying dead on the ramp.

That guilt never leaves me. If I had maybe listened a little better, if I had spoken to somebody, if I had made a different decision, if I had spoken to the right people and said maybe we shouldn't take Warren Mellon with us, then he'd be alive today. Everybody, including his family, his wife, his parents, have all said that none of this is my fault.

And I hear them, but there's always that little part of me that always believes that, yeah, that it's something I could have changed. My name is Annie Tetreault. I served in the Canadian Forces from 1996 to 2017. My name is Annie Tetreault. I served in the Canadian Forces from 1996 to 2017. Then I had several deployments, first to Bosnia in 2001, then Afghanistan in 2004. I returned to Afghanistan in 2007 and returned a third time in 2009. Then finally I was on a deployment to Haiti in 2010 following the earthquake. Can you please tell me about leaving?

Leaving. The part that I still have a hard time accepting. In fact, the first reason I left is apparently because I was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder in 2015. I knew full well that I had it before, but I never wanted to admit it, to myself first, then to the military system. Because I knew that when you have that, well, you have to leave the forces. You're taken out of the forces. I didn't want to leave. It's my career. I enjoyed it. So I wanted to stay. I didn't want to be kicked out. So I waited, maybe too long, because my mental health was suffering, and it had repercussions on my family. I'd just had two children.

I broke down during my second maternity leave. That's when my husband strongly suggested I go and see a doctor because things were really not going well. I had no choice. I don't regret it because it was the best move in the sense that I took care of myself and I slowly started the healing process. But I knew at the same time that I was practically signing the end of my career by doing that. I want to understand exactly what happened.

Was it something you chose? Did the army say you had to leave? It was the army that showed me the door. It was the army that said that since I had PTSD, I was no longer deployable. And at the time, the standards were that if you're not deployable, you cannot be in the forces. So they sent me to a transition unit to eventually leave the forces. I already had a document that said I had a date that told me that I was going to get out, even though I didn't want to get out.

Unfortunately, I didn't have much support from the medical chain of command. Instead of encouraging me and supporting me in my process, my immediate chain of command simply pushed me down. So I went to this transitional unit there. Then my husband found me a placement in army headquarters. So they sent me there, and it was a really good position. I worked on commissions of inquiry, and I did different things. But I still felt useful to the military system.

But my date was still coming. The fact remained that I was still non-deployable. So when November 9, 2017 came, I had a meeting with Human Resources, very coldly, at 7 a.m., with a civilian lady who took back my identity cards and made me sign some papers. It lasted five minutes. No good luck, no thank you. The door is there. I didn't even get any recognition. And that, even today, it bothers me. Because I say to myself, people who choose to leave, they leave with fanfare, congratulations and thanks.

I didn't want all that. I just wanted a thank you from someone in uniform. And I think the system was badly designed at that time. And unfortunately, it happened as though through a back door. Today, I think they're making efforts to ensure that this does not happen again. But unfortunately, I have several veteran friends who experience the same thing. When they are injured, the rug is pulled up, and it seems as if we are shamefully pushed aside. But I found it a little, a lot difficult.

I did not have the ending I wanted, that I would have wanted. So the transition is difficult. It's been six years, and I think I've not yet cut the cord. You know, I became almost a recluse in my own home. I didn't want to be around the kids. I didn't want to be around my wife. I didn't want to be around my wife. I'd go home from work, and I'd go into the basement. I was happy in the basement. If my headaches were really bad, I would turn off the light, and I could sit in the basement

for hours, and my wife and kids knew not to bother me. I stopped socializing only when I was forced to go to some military function. Otherwise, I stopped socializing, you know, only when I was forced to go to some military function. Otherwise, I stopped socializing completely, never saw my friends. Yeah, and I almost became a hermit in my own home. I did what I had to do to survive in the military and keep going ahead, and everything else was kind of pushed aside and it affected, I know it affected my family. I mean, I was very lucky to have a very loving wife and two great kids who never let it change

how they felt about me. I mean, they stood by me from the day I returned till today. They've never not stood by me. You mentioned you got some help as well. Tell me about that. It was a long time coming. I was trying to get help for the physical illnesses that I had or the physical symptoms I had, the massive headaches, the memory loss, dizzy spells, the memory loss, dizzy spells, hearing loss, all the things that were the result of my head injury. And one of the doctors that I was dealing with sent me to see somebody for some cognitive testing.

And two days of cognitive testing, the results came back saying, you know, not the right word, but they believed I was either suffering from PTSD or some kind of depression, anxiety, something. And my doctor read that out to me, and I just said, no, they're wrong, and I walked out of his office. A few weeks later, he called me back. And that was the first time where he booked me an appointment to see somebody. I lied, said it was fine. They gave me a bunch of pills because I was having nightmares and stuff. I stopped taking the pills after a few days. A few weeks later, I go back to see the doctor for my symptoms again. And he asked me how I was doing with the after a few days. A few weeks later, I go back to see the doctor for my symptoms again.

And he asked me how I was doing with the psychologist I was seeing. And I said, I stopped seeing. I stopped taking the pills. And he sent me to a civilian psychologist in Ottawa. And I just felt comfortable with her. I don't know what changed. I don't know why all of a sudden I decided to open up. know why all of a sudden I decided to open up.

It may have had to do with, you know, having grandkids coming. My daughter was pregnant and I wanted to feel better. And I opened up to her and I was eventually diagnosed officially with PTSD and depression. Can you tell me a little bit about your, when you did retire and when you did transition to being a civilian again, what was that process like for you? The day I retired is probably the most significant. The day I walked into NDHQ here in Ottawa and gave them my ID card and walked out that door, a civilian, it felt like to me that a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, that I was now in a place where I could start being honest with myself. I had lied to myself. I'd lied to my chain of command for years about injuries and things that I was suffering, my headaches, terrible headaches, memory loss. I had a brain trauma from Afghanistan that was affecting me more than I let on. And when I walked out that door, it was like

somebody just lifted a weight off my shoulders because I no longer needed to lie to people. It was like somebody just lifted a weight off my shoulders because I no longer needed to lie to people. You had a depart with dignity ceremony. What was that like? I didn't want one initially. And I always felt after Afghanistan that anything that was positive for me brought me sadness. And it sounds a little weird perhaps, but whether it was watching my kids graduate from high school, whether it was celebrating a birthday for me, or whether it was my depart with dignity, I always felt a little sadness because my friends and my soldiers didn't get to do that.

And that always sort of came back to not haunt me so much as just being there enough in my memory to bring sadness to those events that should have been really joyful. This is a bit of a philosophical question, but how do you think your time in the war changed you? What sort of impact did it have on the rest of your life? In many ways, it changed me in that first I felt I belonged you know, here, right here in this country secondly, I became educated in other people's cultures and values

and other places that they came from I became, I learned a little more. Everything is not settled by fists. You've got to be a little smarter than that. Before, it wasn't that way. Bad words would create a fist fight. You know, I was on the boxing and wrestling team in high school, and part of that stayed with me.

So, but all that changed. If somebody insults me, I walk away. And no, nothing furthermore. How has it changed you? Well, it made me grow up, I guess, is the main thing. I mean, when you're younger and you just don't worry about things,

but after going through something like that, you realize that life is a little different than it was before. You have to take care of it better. different than it was before. You have to take care of it better. Do a little bit be a little more serious about life. What do you mean by life is a little bit different than it was before?

I think before it was a little more carefree. You didn't think anything would happen. But then you realized afterwards that anything could happen. What people were going through, and it could happen to you too. All that damage and everything, it could be yours. Yeah. It changes. It definitely changes a person.

It really does. It It definitely changes a person. It really does. It made me into a person. I was an 18-year-old kid when I joined the Air Force and had never seen anything. The furthest I'd ever been was to Ottawa from Carp. That's 20 miles away. And all of a sudden, I'm in Brandon, Manitoba in Manning Depot and from there all over the world, literally. And it made me a totally different person.

I got ambitious. I attempted to educate myself largely because of the environment. With a high school graduation in the Air Force, here at the bottom of the list, that's the minimum standard, sort of. And I wasn't interested in a minimum standard. So I went to school, which I never would have done if I hadn't joined the Air Force. How do you think your time in the war has shaped who you are?

What sort of impact did it have on the rest of your life and who you are today, do you think? My life was sad. It was things you couldn't think about, but my life changed when I met Fern and we were married and she helped me tremendously. It was a big change. It was like two different things. change. It was like two different things. I was glad to be a civilian, but I never forgot the war. To me, I think I'm more of a better person. I went and found myself over there. Honestly, that's what I always tell people. I went and found myself there. And I'm still on the journey.

Yeah, it changed me a lot, you know. And then my brother told me, he said, my older brother, he said, when I got back, it made you grow up, he said. You don't go around partying and all that and trying to, you know, you're more stable now. Actually, when you say you found yourself over there, do you mean you found yourself in Afghanistan or in the military more broadly? If I didn't join the military, I'll probably go over there

and see that there's a whole new, another world, and there was a purpose for me being there, and to see other similarities, I guess, with faith and that, and to bring that home now, I think for me it was like, it's an eye-opener. Like, you know, I felt like after that I got to pass on this knowledge that I got. Oh, well, you know, you got to have it hard before you open your eyes. Everybody has to have it hard. But sometimes you don't go the right direction.

So for me, if I didn't join the military, I probably wouldn't have went that direction. I'd be still in North Balfour going around drinking. Maybe I would be into drugs by now. I don't know. Maybe. How do I know? I always think that now, as I get older, what's my purpose? Like, what's my purpose as a veteran?

I always say I was put on this earth for a reason. I think I was put here for a guidance. And that's what we call knowledge keepers. So for me now, that's my knowledge. I always say I'm going to pass it on to the youth that nothing is impossible. You know, we might have our hold downs, trauma, but that's what makes you stronger. If I didn't have the rough, hard life that I had as a child coming up, you know, the luxuries of what most people have, I wouldn't have been prepared for Afghanistan or the army

itself as a whole. Like, you know, it's, and now when I see young people, they don't know who to turn to. And I'm that person. I always say, like, oh, gee, I'll talk to them if they allow me, you know. And then you hear their side of the story and what's really egging them and which direction they really want to go. So that's what I always say. For me, that's what I think I'm here for. That gives me purpose. How do you think the war changed your life?

Oh. It changed it in many ways. I often wondered, if it hadn't been for the war, what would I have done? I have no idea. If it hadn't been for the war, what would I have done? I have no idea. If it hadn't been for the war, you wouldn't have met Buddy? Nope, wouldn't have met Buddy. Nope, never met Gene. It almost seemed that it was meant to be. That's the way I can describe it.

Maybe that's the wrong term, I don't know. It certainly changed my life. It was a profound change, and a deeply conflicted one. Reg had gone to meet Jean, Buddy's fiancée, after Buddy had died. And shortly after meeting her, he proposed. They got married and went on to have three girls and a whole life together. But neither of them ever forgot Buddy. And one day, they went looking for his grave together.

looking for his grave together. And I just could not believe that there were so many airmen in that cemetery. That would be in 1978. But there were thousands and thousands in that cemetery. We went down the road where Buddy's grave was, and I just don't know how to explain the feeling I had when we got to the foot of Buddy's grave and could see his name. And I said, well, Buddy, Jean and I are here to say hello to you.

I said, you always said that when I put a footnote on your letters that you never know someday I might meet Jean. I said, well, I didn't meet her. And then I left Jean there. And I often wondered what her thoughts would be. It just seemed that things had come full circle. And yet it seemed so strange that after I'd said my

goodbyes to him at Bournemouth and then never seeing him again and then standing at the foot of his headstone. It just... I felt really bad. And I often wondered how Jean felt too. She never said anything while I was talking to Buddy. But I just felt I should say something. and when I think about it

I often wondered I often wondered if Buddy had a premonition he wasn't going to come back because he used to emphasize that you never know he always said that

you never know someday you might meet her. You've been listening to What Came After, the first of two episodes based on interviews with war veterans conducted by historian Michael Petrou. Audio clips were generously provided by the Canadian War Museum as part of the In Their Own Voices project, a collection of over 200 interviews. Many thanks to Michael Petrou, Ava Gibbs-Lamey, and the entire team at the Canadian War Museum Project, as well as all the veterans who appeared in this episode. For more interviews and photographs, visit the Canadian War Museum's

website, warmuseum.ca, or visit our website, cbc.ca slash ideas. Voice over by Nikola Lukšić. Our technical producer is Danielle Duval. Our web producer is Lisa Ayuso.

Senior producer Nikola Lukšić. The executive producer of Ideas is Greg Kelly. And I'm Nala Ayed. Thank you.