My Best Friend Clifford Cushing

Heroes Remember

My Best Friend Clifford Cushing

Transcript

My best friend, Clifford Cushing, he was killed. We’d been to Ireland together a couple of times, and he was a... his mother lived in Regina, and she had two sons. I don’t know whether they were both in the service, but I know she used to send a lot of parcels to her son, and he was very generous. She loved peanut butter and, this was training in England… he got a parcel, we’d go and buy a loaf of bread, and everybody would sit around eating peanut butter and bread. But you know, he was a real friend. Interviewer: I understand you wrote a poem for your friend. Yes, I have it here. It’s called just, “Clifford Cushing Killed in Normandy, July 1944.” In Normandy where beauty reigned, I see what’s left by war machines. The trampled fields and broken towns, and the soil red with mens’ blood stains. Today, I lost one of my friends To death upon the battlefield. He died with courage in his heart, From duty did not flinch or yield. Two comrades had been wounded By the shrapnel from a mortar shell. While tending to their mortal wounds, Himself by enemy fire fell. One could not find a truer friend, And he lived life in to the full. A ready grin, a generous heart, For him life was not ever dull. He was my friend, I’ll not forget The good times we had, the things we dared. As descendants of the Irish race, A special comradeship we shared. War rages on, we cannot stop To mourn our comrades’ loss of life. Death stalks our ranks, who will be next To pay the supreme sacrifice?

Description

Mr. Young speaks about his strong bond of friendship with his fellow soldier and recites a poem he wrote about his friend killed in Normandy, 1944

Joseph Young

Mr. Young was born in 1919, on a small farm in Moosomin, Saskatchewan. He was raised in a family with three brothers and two sisters. In 1941, Mr. Young decided to join the army and travelled to Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, to enlist. There he joined the 8th Canadian Reconnaissance Regiment, 2nd Division, a regiment better known as the suicide regiment. During combat in Normandy, Mr. Young was seriously wounded by a large piece of shrapnel, which perforated his upper back. Despite his injury, he was still able to serve until the end of war. After the war, Mr. Young married and began farming, a passion instilled in him by his father. Mr. Young has written a book of poetry, “My Thoughts in Rhyme” sharing his special times in life both as a soldier and a farmer.

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