December 13, 1944 – ends the last letter

(Dodging Shells gave you Tommy’s letters to his sister, from the front. This is the end of the last of Kathy’s letters in response, telling of life in wartime Toronto.)

…..I heard today that a couple of the other girls in the Personnel Department actually made it in to work yesterday. They got in…but they were trapped there and couldn’t get back home. They’re still there!
…..They’ve been bunking in the furniture department, and I didn’t ask what they’ve been eating, but after their dedication in braving the storm, management wouldn’t have the heart to deny them the necessities. Nine floors, a city block square…there are plenty of necessities to be found, I’m sure.

I’m going to bundle up and try to find a mail box, Tommy. I still owe you a Christmas letter, and it’ll be coming soon. But as you’re sitting, shivering in a trench somewhere, I just wanted to drop you a quick note to remind you what a Canadian storm is like. I bet Italy can’t match that!
…..Of course, we aren’t actually sleeping out there. Actually…we’re quite cozy….
…..Poor Tommy.

Live…from the Frozen North…it’s
Kathy

* * * * *

Tommy arrived home in Toronto on December 15, 1944, in the aftermath of the worst snow storm Toronto had ever recorded. 

His sister was at the train station to meet him.

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December 13, 1944 – Part 1

(Dodging Shells gave you Tommy’s letters to his sister, from the front. Kathy’s letters in response tell of life in wartime Toronto.)

December 13, 1944

Dear Tommy,
…..The most horrendous blizzard hit Toronto a couple of days ago. We’re snowed in! Twenty-two inches of snow has fallen within two days. Visibility the first day was absolutely zero and the wind was so strong that it knocked a street car right over on Queen Street, trapping 170 people inside and killing one of them.
…..It’s terrible, Tommy. The radio has reported several other deaths already…many of them heart attacks. People are literally shovelling themselves to death!
…..They’ve managed to keep a few of the main streets open with volunteers shovelling but for a while, Yonge Street was just one huge drift with a single track cleared for pedestrians. People have been seen skiing down Bathurst Street.
…..When Dad opened the door to go to work yesterday morning, he walked into a wall of snow. It had drifted right over the doorway during the night. I cooked up a batch of porridge and he tackled the barrier. The first bit had to be brought into the house in basins and melted in the sinks and bathtub – there was nowhere else to put it – and even a few feet out, the snow was up to our waists. Dad managed to clear a two foot corridor out to the road, with help from me while he warmed up with a Blizzard Breakfast. That’s a huge bowl of hot porridge smothered in brown sugar…for energy. (I said so, that’s who!) It had been an ugly feeling, being trapped like that. The path was just a symbol of family honour by then. We knew from the radio that there was no point heading out to work. Most businesses were closed. Hell, even the munitions factories were closed that day.
…..They had firefighters delivering emergency milk and fuel because, of course, no delivery vans could get through. There are people running short of food all over the city, but don’t worry…we’re doing fine. Although we have had to nip into our Christmas supplies a bit.
…..About mid-morning, there was a knock at the door and an exhausted little woman asked to use our phone. She was a teacher at Grace School, over by Dundas Street. She’d fought her way this far, but she just couldn’t make it the last few blocks to the school, and she wanted to call them to say that she wouldn’t be there. There was nobody there to take the call. She had stopped here because it was the only house she could get to. All the others were still completely snowed in. I guess they had no emergency porridge on hand.

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November 22, 1944 – Part 2

(Dodging Shells gave you Tommy’s letters to his sister, from the front. Kathy’s letters in response tell of life in wartime Toronto.)

…..Apparently the German accusation that Canadian troops are altogether too familiar with venereal disease isn’t entirely unfounded. Lord Haw Haw must have gotten a line on some inside information (I won’t even guess how he might know) because we’re being warned against a potential epidemic of V.D. when you fellows return home.
…..The good news is that they’re proposing immediate action to provide appropriate clinical care, so somebody out there seems to believe that the war won’t drag on too much longer. The bad news is that they’ll be checking, and any returning soldier who has a ‘social disease’ will be kept in the army until he can’t spread the joy around.
…..So consider this a friendly warning. Oh, I know this can’t possibly be of any concern to you, of course…but you might want to alert your friends to watch their step, because when they’re ready to come home, they’re going to have to check any unwanted ‘baggage’ at the door!

…..About coming home…we’ve been hearing rumours that some of you fellows may get a chance to pick up your Christmas packages in person this year. Any truth in that, do you think? I’d sure like to see you again while I can still remember what you look like. If it’s a lottery, for God’s sake, buy a ticket!

Keeping my fingers crossed,
Kathy the Incurable Optimist

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November 22, 1944 – Part 1

(Dodging Shells gave you Tommy’s letters to his sister, from the front. Kathy’s letters in response tell of life in wartime Toronto.)

November 22, 1944

Dear Tommy,
…..We’re all concerned over here. Hitler hasn’t been looking well. The armchair diagnosticians have been working overtime:

…..He must have an ear inflammation…
…..No, he looks paralyzed on that side…
…..Maybe he has coronary thrombosis…
…..It could be concussion of the brain…has he taken a fall?
…..His ranting sounds different…has he damaged his vocal cords? All that screaming, you know…
…..Oh, maybe it’s just tension…
…..No…it’s a throat tumour…
…..He seems a little paranoid to me…is he seeing somebody for that?
…..Maybe he’s dead, and that’s just a cleverly made-up double!

…..For what it’s worth, here’s my analysis:
…..He’s mad as a bloody hatter! Hasn’t anyone noticed? I know I’m not on the scene, but sometimes distance lends a certain perspective. And in any case…an earache and a sore throat would be the least of his problems just now, don’t you think? It’s pretty certain that crazy is something he brought to this get-together, and maybe dead would be his best way out at this point. Continue reading

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October 20, 1944 – Part 3

(Dodging Shells gave you Tommy’s letters to his sister, from the front. Kathy’s letters in response tell of life in wartime Toronto.)

…..I barely had a chance to take it home and hang it up when who should gallop up but Prince Charming! Okay, it was actually Larry, the Accounting Manager, and he just kind of strolled into the personnel office…but rumour has it he’s rich, and he certainly is easy on the eyes. And he asked me out for dinner, and dancing at the Palais Royale. (I’m sure you see the connection now.) Well, why not? After all, I already had an elegant evening wrap, didn’t I?
…..I knew better than to wait for a fairy godmother to wander by and spruce up my wardrobe for the occasion. I transformed that silk altar cloth you sent me into an elegant evening blouse, and whipped up a long black velvet skirt to wear with it. I figure if you make the stuff yourself, you can be pretty sure it’s not all going to disappear at midnight. I mean, I don’t mind walking home barefoot if my shoes disappear, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to take the risk of running around Toronto at night in my underwear. Continue reading

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October 20, 1944 – Part 2

(Dodging Shells gave you Tommy’s letters to his sister, from the front. Kathy’s letters in response tell of life in wartime Toronto.)

…..Fate, it seems, was distributing elegant outerwear that day.
…..I was reorganizing some files, so I was still at my desk that evening when Flo made a discovery in the personnel manager’s office. Florence is our supervisor.
…..“Oh, shit!” she blurted. “There it is. Sonofabitch!” Flo can swear like a trooper when she thinks nobody’s listening.
…..“Something wrong?” I asked.
…..“Oh. I thought everybody was gone.” She pulled a smart black velvet evening coat out of the back of his closet. It had an ermine collar, and didn’t seem quite his style.
…..“It’s mine,” she said. “I remember now. I wore it to that charity thing I attended with Mr. White up at the Arcadian Court last spring. It rained that night, so I tucked it away here afterward rather than let it get all spotty. And then I completely forgot.
…..To tell the truth, she can be a bit scatter-brained sometimes.
…..“Well, now you found it. That’s a good thing, right?”
…..“You don’t understand! My husband bought me that coat for my birthday just before he went overseas. It was expensive.”
…..“I can see that…but now you have it back. So what’s the problem?”
…..“Well, I couldn’t let Bob think I just went out and lost it, could I…like I didn’t even care about it? So I went out and bought another one just like it. Now I have two. I can’t have two…when he comes home, he’ll notice! What am I going to do?”
…..I had no experience with this kind of problem.
…..“Here!” she said. “You have it.” She bundled it into my arms.
…..“I can’t….”
…..“Of course you can. You’d be doing me a favour. Just don’t wear it anywhere Bob will be”
…..Well, who was I to defy fate? “Thank you so much! But wouldn’t you rather keep the one he bought you?”
…..“Oh no…the one I bought is actually nicer…and he’ll never know the difference.”
…..So I now have an elegant evening wrap. I just have to avoid Bob.

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October 20, 1944 – Part 1

(Dodging Shells gave you Tommy’s letters to his sister, from the front. Kathy’s letters in response tell of life in wartime Toronto.)

October 20, 1944

Dear Tommy,
…..So after all that bother, the Germans are still there! They really cannot take a hint, can they? You know, if this war carries on very much longer…well… I’m afraid you’ll find that it just won’t be fun anymore.
…..And you’ve met up with the First Parachute Division again.
…..I know they’re tough, Tommy. But there’s something puzzling me. They’ve become something of a legend. Some Allied journalists are even describing them as the best fighting division in any army. But it seems to me that every time they meet up with the Canadians…they get the worst of the battle. Am I missing something?

…..Of course journalists will write almost anything if they think it will make a sensation. Last month, the Toronto Star treated us to rumours of a new secret German weapon – newer and more secret than all the other secret weapons we have been warned about up to now. The rumour-mongers are not in agreement about the nature of the weapon…maybe a death ray, or better yet, freeze bombs designed to stiffen every living being for hundreds of yards around. It was unclear whether it was to be used against you fellows over there or against us at home (although that freeze bomb idea seems a bit redundant here, with the Canadian winter on the horizon). But it was definitely going to be unleashed on September 29th. Well, we waited up, and nothing arrived. How about there? Anything resembling a death ray? Or a freeze bomb? No?
…..I understand that one journalist actually approached inmates in a prisoner-of-war camp over here with the rumour.
…..Their response: “Please…don’t kid us about ‘secret weapons’. We know such talk is just silly.” Continue reading

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Toronto – August 15, 1944 – Part 3

(Dodging Shells gave you Tommy’s letters to his sister, from the front. Kathy’s letters in response tell of life in wartime Toronto.)

…..I still haven’t developed a passion for frolicking in the waves, but I have no serious objection to lounging, scantily clad, on the sand and reading a good book. So I was able to summon a becoming appearance of enthusiasm when the girls in the office suggested a picnic on Centre Island. (I’m aware that every other healthy, normal human being on earth just adores splashy horseplay and fun in the sun.)
…..So I struggled out of bed much too early on my day off and threw together something that would be edible, and still fit in a convenient tote bag with the book I was currently reading and a spare in case I lost that one. I was not going to risk being stranded bookless on a beach! I tracked down a suitable sunhat and was on my way. (I’m still not convinced that sun rays wicked enough to lure out my freckles will content themselves with that small destruction. I’m sure they’ll do worse if they get the chance.) Continue reading

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Toronto – August 15, 1944 – Part 2

(Dodging Shells gave you Tommy’s letters to his sister, from the front. Kathy’s letters in response tell of life in wartime Toronto.)

…..Every year, the Canadian National Railway has its annual picnic at Crystal Beach, and May Cameron’s dad works for the CNR so May invited me along this year. We took the train (naturally) from Union Station, and Mr. Cameron ever so discreetly disappeared as soon as we entered the gates…not to be seen again until we met him for the trip home. I don’t know what he did with his time…but I’m sure it varied dramatically from our day.
……When we arrived, we could hear the tell-tale sounds of organized games – three-legged races and the like, I dare say. You will appreciate just how little I would be attracted to that particular brand of fun, so I promptly steered May toward the Peace Bridge beckoning us from Fort Erie into the United States. I must say, she wasn’t at all hard to convince. We walked across the bridge to Buffalo, just for the excitement of saying that we’d been out of the country for a bit, and then decided to do a bit of window shopping while we were there. Wouldn’t you know it, as we were browsing through an appealing little clothing shop, a stunning natural linen blouse leaped right into my hand, quite against my will.
…..“Oh, Kathy,” May suggested, uncooperatively, “it’s beautiful! Try it on.”
……“No. I’m not buying anything.”
……I tried it on. Continue reading

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Toronto – August 15, 1944 – Part 1

(Dodging Shells gave you Tommy’s letters to his sister, from the front. Kathy’s letters in response tell of life in wartime Toronto.)

August 15, 1944

Dear Tommy,
…..It’s been such a long time since your last letter! But it warms my heart to know that you guys have to learn a little something about cooking for yourselves. It will make you attractive husband material some day.
…..I was surprised to be invited to Lil’s wedding last month. I don’t see as much of the elevator operators as I used to – socially, at least – since I started working in the office. Lil was the homely one.
…..Lil was so worried that all the other girls would snap up the soldiers when the war ends…I think she was determined to beat us to the punch. When we heard that Eleanor’s fiancé was being shipped home soon, she may have panicked. (He’s been wounded, but he’ll recover and they’ll be able to get that home Eleanor has her heart set on.) Continue reading

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