It's terrible to think that we lost four men just, not long
before we're, not long before we were set free. And it didn't
have to happen, it was madness. There was eight of us and we
were loading forty gallon drum, dirty, old forty gallon drums.
And for once the guards left us. Why on earth, they never left
us before, even when we were loading pig iron, they never left
us. And here they left us when we were loading these dirty, old
forty gallon drums. And, and Mack Hawes from Selkirk, worked in
the rolling mills at Selkirk, he was leuitentant, he was a
corporal, and he said, "I wonder what's in these?" And one drum
had a loose bung, why did it have to have a loose bung? Why? He
opened it up and he said, "I think this is, this is industrial
alcohol." Whatever made him think that I don't know. I, I
smelled it and I said, "For Heaven's sake, don't touch it." He,
and three other men drank from that one drum that had a loose
bung. This was Mack Hawes, and there was Jimmy Gard from Fisher
Branch, and there was Roy Kirk from, Riding Mountain, and there
was Bobby McLeod, used to work on picardies (sp) on Portage.
Four men drank and we had a terrible time getting them into camp
‘cause they were staggering, falling, staggering, falling. And
they, this, there was a platform that high we, we, we slept on,
Tatami, thin layer, woven straw, and Mack Hawes sat down and he
said to me, "My hands are paralysed." He said, "I've got no
feeling in them." He said, "Take off my putties, and roll them
up." And he said, "Undo my laces, pull my shoes off." And he
threw himself back on the platform and you could hear these four
men right through the whole end, one end of the hut to the
other. They were having trouble breathing, and, and someone ran
to the first aid hut and said what happened and, and all they
would say there is, "Keep them moving, keep them moving, we have
nothing here, we have nothing here, we've got no stomach pump,
we have nothing here to..." And we were tired from working all
day but we took turns trying to keep those fellows moving but
they were a dead weight, they were unconscious, they were
absolutely unconscious. And we tried, well, we were dragging
them up and down the centre of the hut back, up and down, and,
and they were unconscious, and all four died about four o'clock
in the morning. And Mack Hawes had got married on that two
weeks leave, and he had his wife's picture and he used to talk
to it at night after, after, he used to say, "Dora, I'm coming
home, I'm coming home Dora." He never made it. And I spoke to,
to Dr. Harrison Verdun when we got back and he said, "What was
in those drums? What was in those old barrels?" I said, "Well,
the interpreter found out it was antifreeze." And Harris said,
"If you had had a stomach pump," he said, "it wouldn't have done
any good." He said, "That," he said, "I know what's in
antifreeze." He said, "It goes right in the bloodstream." And he
said, "The bloodstream goes to the brain, goes through your
body." He said, "There's no antidote for what
was in that, in that antifreeze."
We stopped at Calgary on the way home for about fifteen minutes,
and we were out stretching our legs, and Mack Hawes' mother came
along and she said, "Where's Mack?" Oh my heavens, I couldn't
speak to her, I couldn't, I couldn't do it. Carl Unison from
Glenborough walked up to her and he tried to tell her, he tried
to tell her. He, he tried. How can you tell a mother that her
son threw his life away after, after living through all the
fighting? He deliberately threw his life away.
How can you tell a mother?