Poetry and Prose is Yet Another Way to Remember
Barrington Street Patrol by T. C. Wood
As found in Ready Aye Ready Page 115
Introduction:
Each year on November 11 we are encouraged to remember the men and women of our armed forces, past and present. The arts of war assist our minds to look back, sometimes many years, to places or events both good and ill a family member or friend experienced. When possible I will present a few illustrations, songs, poems and more to help readers reflect on the many ways at our disposal to remember those very important to us.
E.g., many young sailors who volunteered for Combined Operations during the war patrolled Barrington Street in Halifax when leaves allowed, sometimes with beer money rattling in their pockets.
My father, training with RCNVR in the fall of 1941, writes the following about one incident in Halifax:
I met Omar Bucholtz of Norwich in Halifax and one icy evening we went to Capital Hill to an army canteen. We proceeded to get loaded and coming home we slipped at the top of Citadel Hill and slid to the very bottom and onto street car tracks. A street car barely had time to stop to avoid running over us. We sobered up very quickly.
One restaurant had a sign in its window - Dogs and sailors not allowed.
"Dad, Well Done" Page 8
Tom Wood captured an informative scene from the 1940s in the above painting or poster. So many other resources our at our disposal as well. I will list a few as I add entries to 'the arts of war'.
A short poem follows appropriate for Remembrance Day (with a nod to Combined Operations perhaps?):
TOGETHER
They went to war together
so our country would be free.
They fought together
on land, in air, on sea.
They died together
in muddy fields
in blazing skies
in deep, cold seas.
Let us remember them,
together.
By Edith J. Harrison, Norwich Ontario
A short poem follows, about being made to feel welcome in Newfoundland after service overseas (1941 - 1943), that was written by Leading Seaman Art Bradfield of Simcoe, Ontario. He was a member of RCNVR and Combined Operations, and enlisted in Hamilton before going to Halifax for further training in the fall of 1941. After two years overseas, including taking "part in the assault on Dieppe", he "served in North Atlantic convoys in the destroyer HMCS Gatineau... before (going) to Newfoundland (and) working as a rigger in the dockyard." (News clip, December 8, 1944)
THE WELCOME STRANGER
When you find that you're a Stranger,
In a far and distant land,
There is nothing quite so welcome,
As a friendly, outstretched hand.
It really means a lot to you,
When you're feeling mighty blue,
To have a thoughtful "Someone",
Just smile or nod at you.
You may never pass their way again,
But it's really nice to know,
That there was one who understood,
And smiled, and said, "Hello."
Now there was one who thought of this,
And, oh, I think she's grand,
Who made my life more pleasant ,
With my stay in Newfoundland.
So, Ruth, now let me thank you,
As your kindness I commend,
And may the god of happiness,
Always smile on you, my friend.
By Art Bradfield ("Brad")
November, 1943
Newspaper photo (Simcoe Reformer?), from
the collection of Art's son, Jack Bradfield
His friend Ruth was the subject of another light-hearted, untitled poem dated 19. 4. 44:
Spring, beautiful Spring,
When the boys are out all having their fling,
When the breath of perfume is in the air
But it's not coming from the buds out there,
It's a dab of "Chub's" perfume behind Ruth's ear,
It's Spring!
Ruth was likely the subject of the following lines as well, dated 4. 4. 44:
There is a girl who's very sweet,
She has a heart so kind,
And if she chews gum in my ear,
I swear I'll never mind!
Art "Brad" Bradfield was full of poems and though the copy I have (of the next offering) is not signed (nor is the same poem in Combined Operations by Londoner Clayton Marks), I attribute it to "Brad". It matches the rhyme schemes he leans on frequently and it appears in a binder of his poems (his son Jack lent me recently).
Naval Language
The Navy has a Language,
That each of us should know,
It's really quite peculiar,
Or, at least, I found it so.
The floor is always called "The Deck",
Upstairs is way "up top",
The "Bible" is a rubbing stone,
And a "swab" is just a mop.
A Sailor sleeps in a swinging "mick",
And never goes to bed,
When he is free to take a rest,
He just "gets down his head".
He is "adrift" when he is late,
The kitchen is the "Galley",
And they always use a "Bos'un's pipe",
When they want the lads to rally.
One Officer is the "Number One",
Another one is "Guns",
The Captain is "The Old Man",
To all your Naval Sons.
"Night clothing's" not for sleeping in,
Now does that seem quite right?
A "salty dip" is the tale he spins,
When on shore-leave for the night.
The rum he drinks is called a "tot",
The tea is known as "plue",
The dessert is known as "afters",
And porridge is "bergoo".
His collar blue, is called a "jean",
When drunk, he's "half-seas over",
A holiday's a "Make and Mend",
The boys are then in clover.
When things are done the service way,
They're "pusser" so they say.
And when they "Splice the Main Brace",
It's a very lucky day.
A depth-charge is an "ash can",
At least, that's what we're told,
A bully is a "bucko",
As he struts around so bold.
An Airman is a "Pigeon",
As he flies up in the sky,
A Soldier is a "Pongo",
On shore, there, where it's dry.
Each Miller's name is "Dusty",
Each Clark is "Knobbie" too,
Each Bennett's known as "Wiggie",
To the lads in Navy blue.
When he's on his ship he's then "afloat",
When on the land "ashore",
His cigarettes are "ticklers",
And "gash" means - anymore?
His best suit is his "tiddlies",
His oldest "number threes",
And he calls it "soogee-moogee",
Washing paintwork on his knees.
"Dhobi-ing" is the washing,
A rope is called "a line",
A "fish" is a torpedo,
The "Mess" is where they dine.
These are just a few expressions,
But don't you now agree,
That it's a very funny Language,
Used by the men who go to Sea?
More about Art Bradfield can be found at Five Canadian Sailors Make Headlines (4a)
Here is another way to look back on Halifax through someone else's eyes:
'Ful' in Line 5 is the flu, of course, just one more ill way to view the city!
Wow. Somebody sure had their nose out of joint about Halifax, eh!
HALIFAX?, by an unknown author, continues:
You don't speak English, you speak Haligonese,
And the stench off the Pond is what you call breeze,
You make us pay double for all you can sell
But after the War you can all go to "HELL".
And when you reach Hades and Satan greets you,
You'll feel right at home - - He's from here too.
Yes, Halifax, oh Halifax, it isn't all gravy,
To be planted on your doorstep by the Army, Air or Navy.
The WMC and the Draft Boards too
Have frozen us here and we're stuck with you.
The worst of it is that you think you are swell,
You think you are perfect, that gripes like Hell.
You're dead and rotten, you think you're alive,
You think you're a Palace, instead you're a dive,
You're not worth this Paper, you're not worth this Ink,
You can take it from us, Halifax YOU STINK.
Poem was found at - Stories We Remember
'Stories We Remember' is home to poems, songs (WW1, WW2), veterans' stories and more. Happy hunting, I say.
I thoroughly enjoyed two trips to Halifax by motorcycle and have
many photographs of lovely Barrington Street, above. GH
If you know of the origin of the above poem, please let me know at gordh7700@gmail.com or in the comment section below.
Please link to more of The Arts of War: Songs to Remember (1)
Unattributed Photos GH
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