jail—all government buildings located just down the street from me; the Wellington Street Bridge beyond them; all the men I knew who could be called up for service. Eventually, I thought of their sweet heads.
Around eleven o’clock, I heard the front door open. A few minutes later, Ina opened the door to our room. “Where were you all this time?” I whispered after she had changed into her cotton nightgown and crawled into our bed. It was a sign of our maturing relationship that when she told me she had been with the McKechnies for the entire evening, I did not expose her. I knew who she had been with. I knew she should not have been with that person. But I was glad she was.
Chapter 2
THE FIRST CONTINGENT
The declaration of hostilities made on August 4th, 1914 epitomized the first days of the war. In Canada, at least, those days chiefly revolved around announcements, promises, and words. The prospect of a war had been known to the federal and provincial governments sufficiently long in advance to allow them following the declaration to make immediate promises, but not long enough it seemed, to allow them to take immediate actions.
The reality was that while the Canadian government had announced its intention to send twenty thousand troops to the aid of Britain, it had not yet determined the means by which to do so. Canada had a permanent army comprised of three thousand professional soldiers. It had a mobilization plan by which the best volunteers would be selected by such professionals. This, however, was not the plan of Colonel Sam, who did not trust the professional soldiers, or the “regulars,” as they were called. He envisioned the volunteer militia, not the professional army, selecting the fit among the Canadians who volunteered to serve. It was not then known whose vision for the expeditionary force would prevail: that of the professional army or that of Colonel Sam.
The situation was no different with respect to pledges made of supplies. Within hours of the declaration of hostilities, the government of Canada and the governments of her nine provinces raced to make commitments of goods to Britain. Details regarding how these goods could be acquired and delivered had yet to be determined.
It was the promises of goods of three of those governments that kept the Turners in Brampton longer than their usual four weeks—a matter that brought pleasure to all of our family members but one. Every additional day spent in Brampton was an agony to Roy, who was fearful of not being in Winnipeg when his militia regiment was mustered.
* * *
I rose late the morning of August 5th, my fears of pending doom having led to a poor night’s rest. Aunt Charlotte and Ina were in the dining room when I entered it, discussing the restored condition of Aunt Lil, who had just entrained for Toronto. Father had already left for his dental office. Jim was at the Dale Estate, the internationally known flower grower, where he worked in the summers. Uncle William was at a meeting with Richard Blain, our local Member of Parliament. Mother was upstairs making her bed.
I had nearly finished eating my cold toast when I heard Mother come down the maid’s stairs and go out the back door. Minutes later, she joined us in the dining room. After wishing me a good morning, she turned to Ina. “I see that you rinsed your dress out this morning. Why did you leave it in the bathroom? There’s a good breeze outside. I’ve put it on the line.”
Ina thanked her, and then Mother went on. “My, you were out late last night, Ina. Were the McKechnies in that much need of your society?”
“The McKechnies were fine,” Ina assured her. “We spoke about the war for a bit. They really don’t know much more than we know. We played cards for a time, and then Katie and I went for a walk.”
“A walk? Down to the park?” Mother asked.
“No. There were a lot of people down there cheering and singing, and I knew that Father did not want us to do anything very gay, so we walked to the flats.” The “flats” were the flood plain areas that ran next to the Etobicoke Creek in certain parts of Brampton. They were undeveloped areas. “We stayed there for a while. I must have sat on some wet grass. I noticed the stain this morning.”
“I see,” Mother said as though it was normal for Ina to notice such things. For most of Ina’s life, she had never cared or noticed how she looked. Of course, that had changed since her high school graduation dance a few months earlier.
“When were you there, Ina?” Aunt Charlotte asked. “I hope it wasn’t dark at that time.”
“It wasn’t dark when we walked to the flats. I suppose it was dark when we returned.” I said nothing as I watched her performance. All of the years of amateur theatrics had clearly stood her well.
“Ina, you and Katie can no longer carry on that way,” Mother scolded. “You aren’t fifteen anymore. You’re nineteen. You are young ladies. In addition to your physical safety, you have your reputations to protect. I will hear no more of late night unchaperoned walks to secluded areas like the flats.”
“Yes, Mother,” Ina agreed demurely.
“I have a mind to speak with Mrs. McKechnie. Surely she must be concerned for Katie’s safety and reputation too.”
“Oh no, Mother, there’s no need to do that.” Ina was quite emphatic. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again. With no men in the house, Mrs. McKechnie has so many other things to concern herself with.”
“She certainly does,” Mother agreed. “I’ll thank you both to remember that.”
Ina put down the knife she was using to peel an apple. She had lost her appetite for food requiring a steady hand. After glancing at her watch, she brought the conversation to an end, announcing her need to prepare for her shift at the telephone switch. She expected the day would be quite busy with calls, including those from people like Uncle William with wartime business to conduct. He would place most of his calls from Aunt Rose’s bakery. Our family could not afford to own a telephone. While Aunt Rose likely could have, she did not see the point of having such an apparatus installed in both her house and the bakery. Like most local merchants, she had come to understand the necessity of having a telephone in her business.
* * *
In those first few hours of the war, governments in Canada pledged 1,300,000 bags of flour to Great Britain. Valued at nearly $4,000,000, they were made by the governments of Canada (1,000,000 bags), Ontario (250,000 bags), and Manitoba (50,000 bags). Uncle William’s calls that week pertained to the fulfillment of those gifts. The three governments were not, of course, sitting on stockpiles of wheat or flour. It all had to be procured. Uncle William and others in the national grain industry were advising the governments on the means to grow the grain, to have it milled into flour, and to transport it both to the port in Montreal and ultimately to its delivery point in England.
“Why is this requiring so many meetings, Father?” Roy asked one night before trying again to convince his father to return to Winnipeg on an earlier train. “You deal with grain purchasing and milling every day. Why is this taking so much time?”
Uncle William would have been happy to answer that question if it had been posed by anyone else in the family. He thought his eldest son, who had been working as a part-time junior clerk at the Maple Leaf Milling Company for the two prior years, should have known better. “This involves enormous amounts of grain. You know how much wheat must first be purchased in order to create that much flour. And the milling of this wheat is in addition to the amounts that are being milled to satisfy existing customer orders. It will be difficult to meet the commitments made to Britain—particularly for Ontario.
