By Randy Evans
On January 4, 1916, my maternal Grandfather Percy Bodaly enlisted to serve with the Canadian Expeditionary Forces in World War One. He was 19 years old at the time.
Initially as a Private but later a Corporal, his entire wartime career would be spent in the medical corps at the Canadian war hospital at Taplow, England.
Like so many of his colleagues from that conflict, Grampa did not speak much of his war time experiences. A few funny anecdotes perhaps but nothing of consequence. Except for one occasion during a mid 1970’s visit.
As it happens I was at the time reading Robert Service and thus came to my Grandparents’ home with a book of the poet.
As clear as if it happened today, I can recall my Grandfather upon seeing the volume taking the book in his large workman’s hands. Without opening even the cover, he began to recite lyrics from The Cremation of Sam McGee, The Spell of the Yukon and the yarn of Dangerous Dan McGrew and the lady who was known as “Lou.”
This spontaneous recital was followed by moments of silence – me in astonishment and my Grandfather clearly in first hand Remembrance. Thereafter, the obvious question was asked and responded to as follows.
After his daily shift at the war hospital, my Grandfather would stay and read to those patients who were blinded at the Front. Many of the now sightless would ask for works by Service so much so that his prose became a matter of memory.
Some 60 years later the poems remained fresh in the mind of my Grandfather. By observation, so to was his recollection of those brave souls seeking solace from the words of Mr. Service.
I will never forget that precious story received from my Grandfather. Arising simply by chance it gave to me a brief but lasting glimpse of not only my Grandfather in uniform but also of those wounded soldiers so richly deserving of our esteem and Remembrance.
Bless all their hearts and service.
Lest we forget.