CP24.com readers were asked to share their Remembrance Day stories with us, whether they participated in the war or grew up with a loved one in service. These are their memories and the photos that have defined their experience.
Memories
The story of my parents is quite a remarkable one, and one I honour each Remembrance Day with pride and astonishment. My mother, Brenda Wiles, was born in England in 1924. At the age of 5, her mother died of TB, and following her death, she was abandoned by her father, who left her to be raised by an elderly aunt. At the age of 18, during WWII, my mother joined the Women's Royal Enlisted Navy as a telelphone operator. She often tells the story of answering a call one day, and there was a gruff, familiar voice on the other end, realizing very quickly that she was speaking to Sir Winston Churchill.
The WREN's often attended dances and get-togethers attended by Royal Canadian Air Force enlisted men, taking time out of a very dismal and frightening period in their lives, to put on some perfume and a little bit of make up to laugh and flirt with the Canadian airmen. It was there she met my father, Cyril Paquette, who was one of those flyboys in the RCAF.
His job was a very dangerous one as the Upper Middle Gunner in the Lancaster, a huge tank of a plane that flew bombing raids over Germany. They hit it off instantly, my mother feeling sorry for his lack of dancing skills. After a civil wedding in England, my mother in her uniform, carrying a tiny bouquet of violets, and my father in his RCAF finery. The war ended and my father was dispatched back to London, Ontario, very relieved to be one of the lucky ones coming home alive.
He tells a very haunting story of one particular weekend, he was scheduled for a bombing run over
Germany and one of his good friends asked if he switch duty with him so that he could have the next day free to see his girlfriend. My father did the switch, and sadly, his friend never returned. Their plane went down during the run.
A few months later, my mother followed him to Canada and made the long arduous trip by boat with several other new war brides, each of them nervous and afraid of the endless days on the sea. As it turns out, it was the last time she would see her home country as she was never able to return to England. She finally arrived and was re-united and made their home in London, Ontario.
They proceeded, over the next several years, to have 6 daughters. My father rarely spoke of his war days but the scars were there. He often suffered from night terrors, and could be heard often calling out in the dark, reliving scenes of the bombing raids. I don't think he ever really got over that part of his mission.
Sadly, my father passed away in 2004, at the age of 83. My mother is still healthy and living in the Veterans Wing of Parkwood Hospital in London, surrounded by many pictures of her and my father on the walls of her cheerful little room.
We are immensely proud of our parents, their life was not an easy one, meeting in the midst of a long, painful world war, and making a wonderful life for their 6 daughters.
Jacki, Cathy, Elizabeth, Debbie, Wendy and Kelly
Please click below for the next story in our "We Remember" series
