 His
full name was Angus Livingstone Martin.
Born in Dundas, Ontario in November of 1880, he was one of three
children, the other two being sisters. His father was a sailor
with not enough education to know how to read or write and when
required to sign any documents, he did so with an “X”.
Nothing is known of his mother at this time, but I
will surmise that since she was with him more than his father, she
must have played a great part in giving Angus a sincere love and
appreciation of nature and of life.
Healthy, and fairly good at sports, he was for a while, a sculler
on one of the rowing teams coached by Toronto’s Ned Hanlan in the
early 1900s.
When he and Cora were courting, their relationship seemed to cause
a problem with his parents. Since she was not a Catholic, but
Scotch Presbyterian, Angus senior threatened to disown his son
should they ever marry. Consequently, being deeply in love, they
eloped and true to his word, father and son never spoke again, nor
did Angus’ father ever see his three grandchildren. Through
contact with his sisters, who loved Cora and their children, Angus
(Jr.) did keep informed of his father’s well-being.
Angus was a non-violent person and did not subscribe to killing or
war in any form, his beliefs being so strong that he was a
‘conscientious objector’ when the First World War broke out in
1914. After seeing several of his chums and his two
brothers-in-law join the armed forces, and after learning of the
death of Hank Goodwin (Goodie) his best friend, he had a change of
heart and he enlisted, even though it meant leaving behind a
dearly loved family.
He joined up in October of 1915 with Toronto’s 74th Battalion
(having been with the 48th Highlanders Militia as a stretcher
bearer in 1912 & 13) and was sent to Camp Niagara for basic
training. After the War, the 74th Battalion became known as
“The Lorne Scots”.
He was there until the following March (1916),
when the Canadian Contingent marched from Niagara-on-the-Lake to
Toronto, then went by train to Montreal and Halifax where they
boarded troopships for England. Battle Cruiser “Carnarvon” led the
flotilla, followed by the troopships, “Adriatic,” “Baltic” and
“The Empress of India” on which Angus sailed (according to the
heading on the letter written on board ship).
By April 11, 1916, they were billeted at
Bramshott Camp, Liphook, Hants, England, and these letters are
filled with the thoughts and emotions of two people hoping to
someday be together again. He filled his letters with wonderful
descriptions of the scenery and villages of the area, as well as
poetry about them and about the war. Threaded through it all was
the longing wish to be home again with his loving family.
He wrote his letters in a fine, indelible pencil, cramming as many
words and thoughts as possible on to the small letter paper and
post cards.
He speaks of the heartbreak of war, and how “if anyone survives,
we’ll be a nation of cripples if it ever ends.” The mail service
from Canada to England and from England to the front, was very
poor to the servicemen, and the later letters reveal the pain of
letters not answered from each of them and their children. Cora
wrote continuously from May 22nd to July 24th 1916, but those he
never received.
He was killed on July the 9th but she was not informed until she
got a packet of her letters back, stamped “Killed in Action”, on
August 18th 1916.
Neither Angus nor Cora ever dreamed that their loving
correspondence would be read or copied, let alone published, but I
feel it is time that Canadians knew their story. This War was a
very important experience to ordinary people living here in Canada
and working hard to keep the bills paid and food on the table, for
their families, and all the while praying for the safe return of
their loved ones.
These letters that he wrote to Cora and his children, Flora
(Casey), Fergus (Fergums or Fergie) and Elinore (Babe or Babums)
were filled with the longing to be back with them, whom he adored
immensely. They were all very small when he left and Elinore was
but a babe in arms. My mother Flora could still recall later, when
she was nearly 70, standing as a child at the junction of Kingston
Road and Queen Street in Toronto’s Beach district watching the
soldiers march by on their way to Niagara-on-the-Lake, with their
kilts swaying and their white puttees over their boots, all in
step, and seeing her father saluting his cap to her. The sound of
the 74th Battalion Band stayed in her mind all her life, although
she was only seven years old when he left. Whenever she would hear
pipes and drums it would make her heart race as she would pause to
recall that very time.
In some of Cora’s letters she addresses Angus as “Daddy” and
enclosed all the children’s letters in the same envelope with her
own.
The name “Casey” and “Casey Girl” for his oldest daughter Flora
came about from the bedtime ritual of the children when, instead
of reading a story, Angus would read poetry to them. No matter how
long he read, Flora always would insist on hearing the famous
“Casey at the Bat” poem before she would go to sleep.
Angus died as the direct result of the repercussion of a Trench
Mortar. These were great, huge ammunition shells which were
detonated in to the trenches where the Canadians were; they snaked
along at a fast speed and then exploded. He never fired a shot. He
never killed anyone and there were no marks on him when he was
found. He lived only about 20 minutes after the explosion but did
not regain consciousness.
The transcribing of these letters that my Grandmother Cora Bell
(Jenkins) Martin saved was begun by my Mother Flora, while
Grandmother was still living in the early 1960s, but every time
Mother would try to continue, she would dissolve into tears as the
memories of her father were still so very real. Although she was
not quite nine years old when he died, she kept in her heart the
image of a wonderful father and man. I was asked if I would try to
type the letters for her, as they were written in very small
script and difficult to read. When my two daughters were quite
little, I took on the task. Even though I had never met the man, I
too, realizing the gravity of the situation, was reduced to tears
on several occasions.
I did succeed, however, and Mother was quite pleased, as was
Grandmother. The letters have been copied verbatim with no
corrections to spelling or grammar. Mother (Flora) had five copies
made; one for her brother Fergie, her sister Elinore, my late
sister Marilyn, and one for myself, Jean. The last one she kept
for herself.
I was born Jean Patricia Ward and am the youngest granddaughter of Angus Livingstone and Cora Bell
Martin.
This book is an actual accounting of events and
a true love story. |
