Most Canadians know of Lieut.-Col. John McCrae and his iconic poem, “In Flanders Fields.” Every year at this time, the poem is part of Remembrance Day ceremonies.
People familiar with the story of the poem’s origin know McCrae was moved to write it after his close friend Lieut. Alexis Helmer was killed in action in 1915 during the First World War. “In Flanders Fields” was published in a popular British magazine and became a universal eulogy for war dead.
Helmer wasn’t the only war victim whose death led to outpourings of grief through poetry.
Rudyard Kipling’s “My Boy Jack” was originally written for a friend who lost his 16-year-old son in the First World War, and then became a lament for Kipling’s own son, who was also killed in that war.
“This was My Brother” by Mona Gould was written for a soldier killed at Dieppe in the Second World War.
No doubt there were many other poems, written by heart-broken family members and friends of fallen service men and women – poems that never saw publication, but nonetheless helped those who wrote them, and those who read them and listened to them, through a very difficult time. Maybe some of them are still kept in family albums or are tucked away in drawers, brought out to be read once a year. But most are probably forgotten.
At least one, however, has been preserved. It was written for Sgt. Harold Thomas Penfold of the Royal Canadian Air Force.
Harold Penfold, known to family and friends as Buster, was the second of four children of Thomas and Mary (nee Colwill) Penfold. He was born in Guelph, and his family resided on Woolwich Street. Young Harold attended elementary school and then went to the Guelph Collegiate where he demonstrated an aptitude for mathematics and mechanics. He took a one-year industrial course in auto mechanics.
Penfold wasn’t a very big guy. As an adult, he stood just five-foot-five (165 cm). He liked to play tennis, softball and soccer. He was also an amateur photographer. Penfold was a member of the First Baptist Church, and was president of the Young People’s Union, as well as being a member of the
Resolute Young Men’s Bible Class.
Penfold worked in his family’s hardware store on Macdonell Street, but after graduation, he went to work at Steve Klein’s Garage on Woolwich Street as a gas station attendant and mechanic. He was still employed there when Canada declared war on Nazi Germany in September of 1939.
Unmarried, Penfold still lived with his parents.
Penfold had never been in an airplane. But when he volunteered for the armed forces in January of 1941, he chose the RCAF. Because of his background in mechanics, he was sent overseas as a member of ground crew.
However, Penfold wanted to join the fight in the air. He undertook extra studies in his spare time. After two years serving overseas, he graduated to flight engineer with the rank of sergeant. Thus, in September of 1943, he became part of the crew of a Halifax bomber in 138 Squadron and began flying
missions over Nazi occupied Europe.
On Nov. 4 of that year his plane was officially reported as missing. A few days later his family received a telegram informing them Sgt. Penfold was missing in action. Later came the letter stating all aboard the aircraft were presumed dead.
Initially, there was no further information because the operation was officially secret. But the following August the family learned Penfold’s plane had crashed into a mountain near Marcol-Les-Eaux in France. The wreckage was found and the remains of the crew were recovered and buried nearby.
The loss of Harold Penfold was reported in the Mercury. But there was something more. LAC (Leading Aircraftman) Harold A. Small of the RCAF wrote a poem dedicated to Penfold. Small was from Guelph, and like Penfold he was a soccer fan. They were stationed at the same RCAF base.
Small wrote in a letter to the Mercury:
“I was sad to hear about 'Buster' Penfold being reported missing … He was a grand chap and he took his air crew course at this unit. I saw him every day. In fact, I was in the next room to him and he was really happy when he passed the course. I never knew a finer guy.”
Small’s poem appeared in the Mercury on Jan. 15, 1944.
A TRIBUTE TO BUSTER PENFOLD AND A GALLANT CREW
They left their homes and crossed the sea, with but one aim in view,
To serve their King and Country in the gravest hour she knew;
From east and west these brave lads came, true loyal British sons,
To swell the ranks of thousands more to fight against the Huns.
The weeks went by, so slow to them who wished for haste and speed,
So that they too could ride the skies, for flying was their creed;
Each day they learned, with pride at heart, although the course was tough,
They’d show the Hun true British blood and prove it wasn’t bluff.
For several hours a day they flew, like fledglings through the sky,
They’d soon be “demons of the air,” they’d fight to win or die.
At last, their training finished, they gathered up their kit,
On posting to a squadron, the whole crew fighting fit.
One night they walked the runway, a plane was waiting there,
With one last glance around them, they took off through the air;
These brave, intrepid stalwarts were once more target bound,
Lords of the air as always, many miles above the ground.
One by one the planes returned, but amongst the missing few,
Was someone that we sadly missed … ‘twas “Buster” and his crew,
What happened on that moonlight night? We still have yet to know,
But we have faith that word will come, that good news soon will flow.
No matter what has happened, no matter where they be,
We’ll not forget this gallant crew who fought across the sea;
I knew them well, I saw them fly, they took their training here,
If every crew have got their “guts,” well we have naught to fear.
Oh Canada! How proud we are to have such men as these,
We humbly say a silent prayer, upon our bended knees,
“Oh God please guard and guide our boys who for us fly today,
Keep them always in your care and help them on their way.”
Dec. 11, 1943 Harold Small, R.C.A.F. Overseas
