“My dad’s name was Edward Joseph Mack”

In Dads later years, he told a brief story about running to escape enemy fire, and one of his comrades was running along side him. He said you could hear the ricochet of the bullets around him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his comrade was no longer beside him. In the blink of an eye, he had fallen to the ground. It took Dad many many years to tell that story, and I’m sure there are a million more that he tucked away…never to be shared. 

He also talked about the Dutch and how much he admired them. He had a soft heart for children especially, so I know seeing the suffering of the people there, was very hard on him. That’s why I believe his love for children was strong right to the end.

I’ll never know the mental toll the War did on him. I do know the physical damage was there. His hearing was badly effected due to the firing of mortars and the lack of ear protection in those days. Cupping your hands over your ears definitely wasn’t helpful. Dad wore hearing aides I believe, most of his life. 

I was informed by his one sister, that he had written letters sent back home, and that the whole family would sit and read them. Unfortunately, years later, his mother passed and several years later, his dad remarried, and she destroyed all Dads letters. I imagine those letters were all written with encouraging words as to not worry the family. We know better now. Breaks my heart not to have those letters.

There were times as a young girl, I would hear dad roaming around the house at odd hours of the night. I’m not so sure, but when I think back now, that he may have had an issue with PTSD or shell shock as it was known then. 

His moods would swing from happy to sad to anger. But back then, we just thought that was normal. All dads were like that. But, we know better now. But saying that, he truly had a heart of gold, and a good dad! Week days were for work, and Sunday was always church and family time. Summer picnics, boats, fishing, water skiing. Winters were tobogganing and skating. 

Honestly, his past life and what it involved, was never a topic around the house. I knew he was a war vet; I seen and admired his metals. Even took them to school with me in grade 1 to show and tell. The class would make such a fuss over them. Thinking back, I find it so terribly sad that I missed out on understanding the true meaning of those shiny metals. 

Happily, I have those metals in a shadow box, and I proudly display them for all to see.

I believe mom was always very supportive of anything dad did, and was proud to be the wife of a veteran! I’m sure there were times of struggle. But she never gave up. The odd time she would tease him about his Dutch girlfriends. And this is only because of a picture with him and 2 ladies! But dad always insisted,” I was there to do a job! I never had time for fun!” We’d all laugh, along with mom, because there’s one thing my dad wasn’t. And that a liar. He was far too honest and would never cause a problem.

My feelings on being the daughter of a veteran? Pure, deep pride! I so admire my dad, and all those men and women that signed up to serve!! I also have a deep sadness because of what I don’t know. Or do I really want to know??Some things may be best left alone.

I think about the sacrifices he made to serve his country and to help the thousands upon thousands of people that needed freeing from the terror of evil. I don’t believe that, we here in Canada, we can truly imagine that fear, as we have never had evil at our back door. I believe deep down, that dad was just a good ol farm boy, who did what needed to be done and carried on with life. Battle wounds aside, he made a life for his family.

As a child, I couldn’t say he was the way he was because of war. I only knew him as dad, and I loved him. 

Knowing what I know now, were there signs? Absolutely there were. I know of no one who could do and see what he experienced, and not be effected. 

All I know is, he was mostly quiet and a deep thinker.

How did others react to dad being involved with Operation Cannonshot? Well, to be honest, I was the one mostly surprised. And both our kids listened intently what I shared the story. Or son especially, who’s a WW2 buff, by far, was the interested as grandpa was his biggest hero. Others I told were very interested and wanted to hear all about it.

My reaction to his roll in Operation Cannonshot, left me in a state of sheer pride and wishing Dad were here to tell me about his experience. I have so many questions I’d love to ask him. But, we are so very grateful, to have had the opportunity to meet a few of the wonderful people who painstakingly take the time and bring this event to the people of the Netherlands and beyond, so that we never forget the sacrifices of those that were involved and to never forget how that pain and fear never happen again. “Lest We Forget!”

I want the youth to know and truly understand what these young boy and men experienced and why we cannot ever repeat the past. I truly admire the Dutch for their dedication to educating their youth about the war, and the terrible fall out from it. I only with that here in Canada, we were are diligent. It is up to all of us, to keep that torch lit, and pass it onto the next generation.

War is ugly; and everyone needs to know that! Let’s not repeat it.