Memoirs of Gordie Bannerman

At this time, the allies were kicked off the continent at Dunkirk. I remember my Dad, a WWI veteran, with tears in his eyes saying, "If I were young enough I would go and see what I could do.” Summer came and four of us went to summer camp at Dundurn (military camp in Saskatchewan). We were there for about ten days when the 14^th Canadian Light Horse mobilized for active service. My buddies said they were to wait for the 60^th to mobilize, so we took the train home. And in a couple of days the 60^th Battery went active. I was 18 and Orme, my school buddy, the same. A couple of phone calls to each other, we talked to our parents, and away we went.

When we young fellows arrived in Aneroid, Saskatchewan to join the 60^th Battery RCA, we were some of the first arrivals and were billeted for a few days with the local people. This was due to not having tents or a kitchen set up. Then on July 23, 1940, we were medically checked, and if we passed the medical we gave our oath of allegiance to serve then HRH King George, to serve in the forces for the duration of hostilities and a year after as his Majesty saw fit. Now we had a regimental number, mine being L35064. The “L” signifying the Military district #12.

Tents arrived and we no longer were billeted or ate in the cafe. Tents were set up in straight lines, kits issued, summer drill pith helmets, puttees army shoes, pt shoes, underwear, shirts, shorts, shaving gear, razor, shaving brush, shoe brushes, and even sewing kit thread, wool for darning socks and needles, also spare buttons. We were four to a tent and we had blankets issued and a bag called a paillasse. This we stuffed with straw from a nearby farm for a mattress. The battery had some officers that were militia men, some sergeants, and a first war sergeant major. We now were truly in the army! Guard duty and kitchen fatigue were the start. Morning roll call! Training was not too much at the start, as men were coming in every day until we were up to battery strength of about 200.

The Mounties even brought a few so called hobos off the freight train to join up or be locked up for vagrancy. We route marched and drilled for a month at Aneroid getting to know who our fellow gunners were. Also we thought we were pretty good and smart. So the local girls, which there seemed quite a few, we tried to outdo each other for their attention. We had a good ball team here and I was the pitcher, and Orme, my school buddy, the catcher. Now we were in shorts and short sleeved shirts, but we wanted to get our battle dress that would show we were active service. Why in the heat of dusty, dry, hot Saskatchewan we wanted the serge? Well, we were issued it and I went to a dance to show it, the battle dress, off and had the worst under arm scalding anyone ever had. So much for vanity.

The Aneroid stay we felt would soon be over and bigger events were to come. The last few weeks were one of meeting new people joining up and most of them would be our friends and fellow gunners for the next six years, although we thought the war would be over before we were ever in combat. How wrong we were!

Orders came out that we could invite family members to visit the battery on the next Sunday which was the end of August 1940. On the Monday we were told that in the next day or so we would be moving to Indian Head, Saskatchewan where the 76^th Battery was mobilized and this was our sister battery. On the final day tents were taken down and rolled up and stored away. Kits were packed and we slept out in the open field so all we would have to do was have breakfast and catch the train for Indian Head. Morning came and we had our breakfast, marched down to the station and waited for the great adventure. Many had never rode on a train before, so it was waiting full of excitement, and of course letting on how we would write and never forget the friends and girls of Aneroid.

The train arrived, and on a hot summer day we were at last seated and on our way. It was a pretty slow train and, some of the fellows were very glum especially some of the married men who had left wives and family, teary eyed on the Aneroid station platform. Joe Schwarek and I were seated together and passed the time wondering what was in store for us, also watching the next station to appear. The rail line went along southern Saskatchewan and along the line turned north to Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan. Here the train had a long stop. Now we had quite a few Moose Jaw gunners whose wives and sweethearts were at the station to say hello and give and take a hug.

Some of the more thirsty fellows who knew the cabbies in Moose Jaw, pooled their money and brought a lot of beer on board the train. The run from Moose Jaw to Indian Head was a drunken comedy. On arriving at Indian Head and getting off the train, Sgt. Magor called us to fall in for the march to the barracks. We lined up and Major Jacobs called us to attention. Seven or eight gunners fell flat on their faces out like a light! The booze, not much food, and the extremely hot day caught up. What a sight! The sister battery and dignitaries were all there to see our arrival. We marched, some straggled, others were tossed into trucks and taken to the armoury. I think all eventually arrived and passed out. There were even a couple of broken windows on the train.

That was our introduction to Bombardier George Hegan. Our officers that came with us were in conference it seemed for days. The up shot of this conference was to combine the two field batteries into one. Disappointment was the result. The new battery was to be called the 60/76 field battery, with three troops A, B, & C troops and a battery headquarters. Our major Clive Jacobs would now be the battery captain. The officer commanding would be Major Boulter, who was known to quite a few of our battery as he had been a school teacher in many areas of Southern Saskatchewan. Orders were posted and the rush to the bulletin board to see what troop you had been assigned to.

Out of all this, there was promotions and I ended up in B troop. The orders listing the promotions stated that on that date I was now an acting Lance Sergeant. Wow, this was a few days before my 19^th birthday! Looking back, the responsibility so early in life stuck with me all the years. I often in retrospect think a sense of responsibility was a curse. You were a non commissioned officer, and immediately, you were not a part of that group you were part of just days before. You took on quite a different role, and hoped that it did not get your ego so high that you were going to be despised by the gunners you, days before, shared a tent with. You now shared a tent with sergeants from B troop who were, in most cases, older than you with years of militia experience.

This is where you made friends for life, also found out who knew their stuff, who were brown noses, and who loved life. This latter group were the ones that really counted. Some did not survive, but they enjoyed life and lived for the moment. Some of my best friends were also promoted here, and one in particular was Orme Payne who went to school with me, and all through the war, and home together. We left Indian Head on the October 4, 1940 by train, and meeting up with another train at Portage La Prairie. This other train had the 37^th Field Battery on board. Our destination was Petawawa, Ontario, with the Ottawa River on one side, and the Petawawa River on the other. On arriving at camp we were soon in the furthest away lines of huts, as the camp was being expanded to house hundreds more. The lines were alphabetical and ours were the V lines.

Now the barracks were great to all of us who, up to now, had spent our first few months in the army under tents. They were the “H” huts, each leg of the “H” with at least 80 men in double deck bunks. The joint of the legs held the washroom and drying room. Each leg had a large coal and wood fired heater with a long line of stove pipe running to the outside. Hut orderlies kept the fires stocked up with fuel during the night. These stoves glowed red with heat, and on occasion someone whether by accident, or just being an ass, would get up and pee a bladder of Black Horse induced pee on this red hot stove. I will let you imagine the stench that assail the nostrils of all in the hut, followed with a lot of cursing the peeing individual.

I was in the 60/76th sergeants’ hut and ate in the sergeants’ mess and drank in the sergeants’ bar or mess. The other ranks had a wet canteen, and the officers had their mess complete with bar and gunners to do the duties in this area. Petawawa was a big camp and there were other artillery units there. The numbers were in the hundreds of all ranks. The RCE had a canteen called the Merry Sappers Canteen. Now this canteen had a couple of WWI engineers who were black. These chaps were in their forties and I can see them now. They were two of the most entertaining con men you ever met. Here we were a group of prairie boys who were not used to seeing blacks unless we had seen one as a sleeping car porter on a train or a touring ball team called the Colored House of David. These fine old fellows probably conned every one of us to buy them a drink. They were the greatest, and I will always remember their laughs, their humour, and they knew what war was all about and had survived.

Life in a large army camp was certainly new to most of us, and each day something else came up. The introduction to the down east strong, Black Horse, Molson's, Kingsbeer, and Carling Red Cap beers was something that took some getting used to, especially, as most of the beer was in quart bottles. Our training started to take a new turn. Most of our battery officers were attending classes to check their ability of the fundamentals of being an artillery officer. It seemed we were being given foot drill by officers from the 37^th battery who were not the most pleasant to we western chaps, and they seemed to be able to point out shortcomings in our non commissioned ranks, sometimes with malice. The garage and the gun shed were under the control of the 37^th Battery so things used to get a bit sticky when returning a vehicle to the garage, having every scratch or speck of dust pointed out to you. But we prairie fellows rode this out with pride and a silent curse under our breaths.

It seemed that we did hours of parade square drill, with little time learning the rudiments of the guns. The guns in question were a couple of 18 pounders, field pieces from WWI adapted to rubber tires. These were housed in a gun shed as winter was coming on and we were able, regardless of weather, to train on these guns. We were later to get 4.5 howitzers and more 18 pounders which we had outside in the spring, along with quads which were the name for the trucks that pulled the guns. All this we had lined up precisely in the gun lines.

Here is when a lot of the married men started to get home sick, a long way from home and their wives were likely writing how tough things were at home without them and the kids were being tough to handle. Or, in some cases, wives did not write and were seen at local dances with airmen from the Commonwealth training bases. Discipline came hard for a lot too. I took most of this in stride and kept a cheerful attitude, and found it much easier that way. The daily routine was steady and it soon became normal. You did your turn as guard sergeant, and orderly sergeant and drilled recruits. In between times you wrote a lot of letters, and drank your share of beer in the mess. All the time you tried to be a good soldier.

Arriving home was great. Mum of course had to feed me as she knew after that long train ride I would be hungry. How true. When I came home my folks were living on our farm and it was not too cold weather and no snow. I had brought home Maple Leaf hockey sweaters for my younger brothers and likely lockets and broaches with the artillery crest on them for my Mum and sister. I was in a hurry to get down to Aneroid to see Louise whom I had met in July of 1940 and I think I stayed a couple of days with Eric and Toots Corbin, friends of Louise and me. Eric Corbin at the time was also home on leave, he being in the same regiment as I. Louise was as charming as I had remembered and was glad to see me. Also her folks gave me a good welcome. I thought I was in love mind you. I think I wanted to get engaged, but Louise thought the war would and could last a long time. So we better wait until we saw how we felt in the ensuing years. Louise thought the dress blues made me look a handsome chap.

All too soon leave was over, and the thought of going back was just a day away. I had gone into Swift Current to be there to catch the early morning train going east, which would transport me to Petawawa Camp. I had on my dress blues as I had a photographer take my picture while wearing them. Going into a cafe I came under some ridicule from some other soldiers who thought the blues must be the Salvation army. I went back to the hotel and changed into battle dress to show these fellows I was regular active service, and doubted if they were.

My Dad was in Swift Current and saw in the photographer's window a framed picture of me in full colour, hand painted by the photographer. Dad bought the picture for my Mum, and Mum gave it to Edith and it hangs to this day 62 years later in our bedroom. The time came to catch the train at 5 a.m. and I was back to join our unit at Petawawa, taking with us just the memories of being home.

We always had the thought in mind what was going to happen next. More training, live ammunition shoots, and winter in Ontario. The month of January was rife with rumours that we were going to become a regiment instead of two batteries the 37^th and the 60/76^th batteries, also it took awhile for the Christmas leave rotation to complete. Meaning there were fewer troops around to do all the guard duties and other assorted duties, and at the same time try to do gun drill in a gun shed. Sometimes a troop would have only seven or eight to do this drill the rest were scattered on other duties.

January passed with some learning to ski patrol, others snowshoeing. The days passed quite quickly. The highlight of this was a firing demonstration by a crew of gunners from England, firing hundreds of 40mm shells out across the sky over the Ottawa River from a Bofors anti-aircraft gun. The automatic system that they could put the gun on were amazing.

On February 1, 1941, our first commanding officer arrived. His name was Lt. Col. W.C. Thackray. Along with the Colonel was Freddy Wright who would be our regimental quarter master sergeant major, title RQMS. Also the Colonel had our first regimental sergeant major with him. This was WO1, I. A. McLeod, title RSM. The regiment became known as the 17^th Field Regiment Royal Canadian Artillery. We did finally and for all time be known as part of the 5^th Canadian Armoured Division. The mighty Maroon Machine, as our shoulder patch was Maroon colored. The day we became a regiment was quite something with everyone reading great long lists of orders designating which battery or regimental Headquarters you were placed in. The regiment consisted of the Regimental HQ 60^th battery, 37^th battery, and the 76^th battery. I thought I was fortunate to be posted to the 76^th Field Battery and spent most of the next five years there with a short posting to Regimental HQ 17^th Feb to July 22, 1944 as duty sergeant. Then on July 22, 1944, I was promoted to sergeant major and posted to Fox Troop 76^th Battery.

At the time the regiment was formed, a lot of discontent hit some of the fellows who hated to leave old friends in the battery they joined up with. As the years went by the regiment was second to none in esprit de corp, appearance, fighting expertise, gunnery, and anything that ever was asked. So from internal bitterness at the start, we soon melded into a first class fighting machine. A regiment we were all proud to have served with and we could not have had a better group of officers and men. Bless you all that have passed through the regimental roll. It was something to belong. The regiment was family and still in our hearts, it will always be!

Battery discipline and regimental orders could be a bit much sometimes as everyone in authority was feeling his way, and getting his spot established on what he could or could not do. The warrant officers and sergeants seemed to get a lot of control, as the RSM had the Colonel's ear so to speak. Spring in Petawawa burst upon us and we welcomed the change in weather as it meant that we now did our training outdoors. Discipline and pride in ourselves was hammered into us. Soon we were believers that we were second to none in smartness and parade square soldiering. Soon the intensive training culminated in live ammunition shoots. We took to the ranges for this type of exercise and the thrill of, (we new sergeants), obeying fire orders, and firing the first live round. This was using shrapnel shell left over in great abundance from WWI. These were fixed rounds and had a fuse called T&P 80, or time and percussion 80. Here our officers were trained in observing the fall of shot and correcting this observation by degrees and yardage to finally have the rounds hit the target. All quite a lot of practice to get good. Some officers had a natural talent in making spilt second corrections relayed back to the guns and the results were a target hit very quickly.

Not all was training. Gunner Ooms, a Saskatchewan chap, was swimming in the pool caused by a back eddy in the river. Well he went under and did not resurface. Someone came running into camp for help. George Hegan and I heard the call so ran down to the river just in time to see Ooms' body being tumbled along the fast flowing river. George and I went to get him and we managed to get him onto the rocky shore. I was worried about covering Ooms nakedness. George said we are here to try and save his life not to worry about him being naked. George, using the methods of resuscitation, could not get any sign of life and the medical staff from camp came with a stretcher and took the body away. After it was all over I checked my watch. It was stopped, ruined by the water. A sweep hand watch was a must for a gun sergeant. It was a sad day when Ooms died as it was one of our first deaths and not by enemy action. As the years went by we were to experience many more.