By Stanley Scislowski
This can be the tale of a tender man's trip via global struggle II. It covers a large pass component of the strengths and weaknesses of younger males no longer attuned to killing, and never mentally ready to stand the horror of seeing their shut buddies die violent deaths in conflict. the tale is ready the hopes, the prayers, the fears, the day-by-day miseries or even the lighter moments that the aspiring heroes of the Perth Regiment skilled at the Italian entrance as a part of eleventh Infantry Brigade, fifth Canadian Armoured department. because the identify indicates, from his first conflict inoculation deepest Stan Scislowski realizes he's not destined for the heroic function to which he as soon as aspired. His fears impact him deeply: his burning dream of returning domestic a countrywide hero turns into an increasing number of inconceivable, and his makes an attempt to return to phrases along with his un-heroic nature make the warfare as a lot a psychological conflict as a actual one. His tale is way like that of the overpowering variety of Canadians who stumbled on themselves within the cauldron of warfare, serving their state with all of the energy they can locate, even if that power was once fading quick. no longer we all have been courageous focuses now not at the heroes, yet at the usual squaddies who persisted the dust, the distress, the ever present worry, the foundation, and the degradation. The narrative holds not anything again: the soiled linen is aired in addition to the fresh; the sunshine is proven along the darkish. It exhibits what warfare is all approximately.
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Additional resources for Not All of Us Were Brave
Surer than hell, Gord was a lot stronger than he looked. He was my kind of guy, but I never really got to know him that well until we did our eight-week stretch of static front duty on the winter front inland from Ortona. As for George Simeays, from Canada's fertile truck-garden farmland around Kingsville, Ontario, where the best tomatoes on the whole continent are grown, he had to be in a class of his own. How he ever made it past the medical board with an A-l category I'll never know. Organically I guess he was as healthy as the rest of us.
The bacon was almost all fat, and what little lean there was was stringy and indigestible. The broiled potatoes tasted like they'd been stored a little too From the Holding Unit to the Perths 31 long in a basement or root cellar. I actually gagged trying to eat the stuff, and finally had to give up. It was a wonder the men who sat down here before us hadn't rioted. Famished though I was, I walked over to the swill cans by the exit door and dumped the works. Even the tea was lousy. All four of the garbage-can sized receptacles were full of the slop.
After a while in Italy I came to the conclusion Jim was straight after all, not only as a man, but as a friend. Bill Robotham came from the cheese country around Ingersoll and was a bit of a character in his own right in the country hick sort of way. Bill's ongoing problem, especially after our arrival in Italy, was his feet. He could never seem to keep them warm enough for his liking. He was forever moaning about how cold they were. To look at him you'd hardly think he was the lover-boy type. Bill was gaunt, sallow, sad-eyed, spare of frame, not athletically coordinated, and had a voice with a trace of a whine to it; you wouldn't think Bill could ever latch on to a girl and have a torrid relationship going.