Dieppe

For several years I worked for the Aylmer Express. While it was a small town newspaper, it was also a commercial printer. (The division I worked for.) The newspaper was bought by Arthur Hueston, after he came home from the war, and was its publisher for many years and turned it into a thriving printing company. By the point I got there, his son had been running the company for many years, and he was just writing a weekly column, some of which touched on his experiences in WW2. He served with the Essex Scottish Regiment, as a platoon leader, at Dieppe. He was quite open about his experiences and once we sat and talked about it. 

He was on a landing craft with a Churchill tank, that ground to a halt on the potato sized stones on the beach, leaving it half in and half out of the craft. They were meant to follow it, but with no way around it, they had to go over the sides. With no one having come ashore before the landings to ascertain the unsuitability of the beach for tanks, no one had bothered to check that there was a deep drop right at the waters edge, not a gradual incline. His platoon dropped over the edge of the landing craft and he lost about a third to drowning, because they were so laden down or unable to swim. The ones that survived had to ditch most of their gear to come up again. On shore without weapons, ammo, etc. they couldn’t do much. With a whole bunch of men wounded or dead, his superiors yelled at him to get back on a boat and get out. No one would have though any less of him if he had, but he called back “No. I have wounded men I need to look after.” And with that, he languished for years in a POW camp, hungry and bored.

It was a good thing he needed a really powerful magnifying glass to read, so he couldn’t see me wiping away the tears. 

The Germans found documents after the raid, from the Canadians, stating that German prisoners were to be handcuffed until they got them back to England. As a reprisal against the Canadians they forced any that were captured at Dieppe to wear handcuffs all day. At morning roll call they were put on and at nighttime roll call they were removed. Of course, as soon as they got back to their barracks they quickly picked them and as long as they were inside, they went without them.

And the city I currently live in, one of its regiments, the Royal Hamilton Light Infantry suffered casualties at Dieppe as well. Of the 582 soldiers who landed that morning, 197 were killed, 174 were captured and 194 wounded (including 85 also captured). Only 102 were not among the casualties.

Never forget.

Bibliophilia: Lore and Legends of Long Point by Harry B. Barrett

Lore and Legends of Long Point – Harry B. Barrett

(Very thrilled to say that this is the first book I’ve featured on here that I had a hand in producing. Originally published in 1977, back in 2000 it was re-published for the 4th time at my old job, the Aylmer Express. I took the old film and re-stripped it for a different press, may have had a hand in making the proofs, may have had a hand in making the plates.)

Goes into the formation of this 40 km long sand bar, some of the native tribes that inhabited the area, early French explorers who wrote about it, some of the United Empire Loyalists who settled this fertile area, the role it played in the war of 1812, the treacherous conditions that caused so many shipping disasters in the area (I think the area around Long Point may have one of the highest concentrations of sunken wrecks in the Great Lakes), the early light houses (the wildly shifting sands made it necessary to build several over the years), the purchase of most of the area by the Long Point Company, a consortium of wealthy businessmen who turned it into a private hunting domain, (which did much to stop the over hunting and logging that threatened to have a very deleterious effect on this fragile habitat), the use of the area by rum runners during the era of prohibition, tales of buried treasure and some murders.

Love books like this. Being a bit of a history and natural history dork, books like this are right up my alley.

Three Port Tour

The Hueston’s, of the Aylmer Express where I used to work, had their first Three Port Tour this past August.

There are three races to choose from: 160 km, 100 km and 50 km. The shortest takes you from Aylmer to Port Bruce and back. The middle distance takes you to two Ports from Aylmer, Bruce and Burwell I guess. And the longest one takes you to Port Stanley as well.

East Elgin is a lovely area and perfect for cycling. If you’re in the area and into cycle touring or racing, mark it on your calendar.

http://www.threeporttour.com/

http://www.lcw.ca/filemgmt_data/files/3_port_tour.pdf

Sosoetry – Aylmer Express

I spent a few years living in the lovely little town of Aylmer, working at the Aylmer Express. (Highly recommend them too if you need to get anything printed.) I worked as a film stripper/pre-press tech. I loved the job, and then there was the fun side bonus of messing with people by telling people I was a stripper.

When I left I wrote a little poem about all the fun characters I worked with there. Great bunch, and my leaving there was bittersweet. I definitely didn’t leave cause I didn’t like the job or the people or the company or the town. I’d written about some of them before, but this time got the whole crew in. A rhyming couplet about each one of them.

Anne Dwyre is no shirker,

I’ve really enjoyed being her co-worker

Rick Cooper drives a big white van,

when he gets home he opens a cold beer can

Chris Semchism sometimes stutters,

when I screw up he always mutters

Dave Friesen will soon discover parental joys,

then he’ll learn the real meaning of soggy bottom boys

Tamara David won’t shop at Joe’s No Frills,

and continually suffers from the chills

John Hueston likes sports with an element of danger,

but to most of us he remains a stranger

Anna Chirico Roes works on a magazine for heavy metal flakes,

and calls her Dutch coworker a mangia cakes

Tina Zacharias manages the payroll and the books,

and at times gives her bratty girls disapproving looks

Judging from the griping coming from her orifice,

Wanda Kapogines would be a natural to run for office

Dave Torr was here when I was hired,

now I fear he may be involuntarily retired

Pete Bartsch has quite a range of different voices,

he’s forever uttering quirky noises

Andrew Thompson is quite adept at fixing the QM’s kinks,

but I think he’d rather spend his time on the links

Rob Perry is a fine Aylmer reporter,

even if he is a native New Yorker

Annie Enns blushes quite easily,

especially when we talk about the birds and the (they’re wasps, not) bees

Neil Jeffery runs one of our presses,

Sonya needs to tame his unruly tresses

Ken Russell sucks on a chuppachup,

while cutting jobs that are four up

Carrie Thiessen is a nice christian lass,

but to her mother she displays too much sass

I still scratch my head about Bill Buck,

he sure is a mighty peculiar duck

Judy Hope orders the paper and the stock,

but I doubt she ever dances to any funky rock

Gene Mooney writes about human triumphs and failings,

but I suspect he’d rather be out sailing

Karen Hueston is constantly busy,

runs around so much it makes me dizzy

Doug Kestle keeps the SpeedMaster rollin’,

I sure hope he never again has his vehicle stolen

Bill Dowson sure is an upbeat fellow,

his friendly greetings he always bellows

Dave obviously found Mary Friesen yummy,

that’s why she now has a growing tummy

Working on the paper sends Pam Mortons head a throbbin,

then she goes home to a little handful called Robin

Michelle Barrett frequently says basically,

at least she doesn’t work lackadaisically

Hark do I hear a deep sigh,

it must be Bety Hahn from Delhi

Judy Minor plays the bagpipes,

and is a genius with the brush swipes

I know Julie Zacharias won’t cause any scandals,

it’s because she always wears her jesus sandals

Brenda Miller is very devoted to her duty,

which makes her a huge pain in my petuty

Kelly Klassen’s kids only eat fake cheese,

all I can say to that is “oh please”

Denise Ward is here at all times and at all hours,

which makes me think she has superpowers

Dave Helsdon constructed a really fine camping hammock,

maybe one day we’ll sit around the fire and eat some bannock

Brett Hueston goes really fast on his bikes,

and that punk rock he really likes

Dawn McClintock is my old friend,

I hope she stays that way until the end

Arthur Hueston has a very positive attitude,

to him and others we owe our eternal gratitude

Sosoetry – Otto

My friend Dawn kept going on about this guy Otto she worked with who had tattoos. When I started at the Aylmer Express I see a guy with a bunch of tattoos on his arms, so I go over and say “hi you must be Otto.”
“No, I’m Ken.”
I ask Dawn, “so who is Otto?”
“That’s Otto. That’s just what I call him cause he reminds me of Otto the school bus driver on the Simpsons.”
Gee Dawn thanks, for making me look like a total ass.

He had spent more than twenty years working there, since he was in high school. In that time he had never once taken a sick day, which I find incredible since his diet consisted of Chuppa-Chups, Vachon products, KFC and McDonalds. Loved heavy metal and classic rock, although he would constantly surprise me by his knowledge of a lot of very obscure stuff. He never, ever invited anyone over to his house, but I have to tell you, I would pay good money to see what his place looks like. It must be absolutely packed to bursting point with records, CDs, DVDs, videos, tapes, magazines.
He claimed to have almost a thousand T-shirts. He had dozens of KISS shirts, and once said that he had over 70 (!) Jethro Tull T-shirts.  He would come to work in one of dozens of Rush shirts, with one of many Rush baseball hats. He not only liked Weird Al Yankovic enough to buy his records, but a shirt and matching hat as well. Very cynical, but likable and knowledgeable guy.

He’s the man with thousands of t-shirts
And possibly kookier than Colonel Kurtz
He has dozens of different hats
And his arms are sprinkled with tats
He’s gathered many a  DVD horror movie
And lots of music, some of it actually groovy
He likes bands ranging from the obscure
To hackneyed dinosaurs that endure
I have a tendency to mock
His taste in classic rock
Even though most folks think they’re dull
Ken can’t get enough of Jethro Tull
He sure loves that rock and roll
His CD collection is out of control
Some might say he’s a heavy metal maniac
But he’s really an entertainment trivia brainiac
Is his collecting obsession considered clinical
No, but he sure as heck is cynical
I think operating that infernal cutter
Is what turned Ken into an utter nutter
He’ll be at this job longer than English royalty
He’s forever on vacation as a reward for his loyalty
He operates the guillotine
And loves to eat KFC poutine
If you can’t batter it and deep fry it
It’s not likely to be a part of Ken’s diet
He’s addicted to those Ding Dongs
But he’ll never own a big bong
Ken disapproves of any drug
But I sure hope he sometimes gets a hug