Volume |, No. I, November al 1944.

: June 20, 1944:
HAR MARK:

It’s been quiet for a -touple of days for us. We are “in the line,” but
@ ere isn’t much activity: infantry Patrolling and recce, that’s about all., So have
j bit of time to ourselves. I though you might like to know how we spend it.

After the last action it took us a day and a half to get “fiohting fit” again.
ese tanks, as you know, need a lot of attention. But for the first time in my
my life I find I don’t need to keep pushing and checking my boys to do it. We

d on every little cog and chain working just right, so eyvery-
¢ tends to check everyone else’s job.

And our “ground crews,” mechanics, fitter

th great care. So we are ship-sha
I said it was a “quiet day.”

s and electricians, etc., mother us
pe and sitting by for the next scrap.
And it is—except for the 25-pounders’ incessant

: ! ; and so do we at times, but not all the time. A regi-
ent of mediums has just dug in behind us. Every hour or two they shatter the

Wlative silence with an ear-splitting barrage. After the first couple of rounds

pve got our ears tuned we don’t notice them, but the initial barrage always
akes us jump.

usance. It’s a fact that the Hun far outnumbers us in that respect, but we make
) ten times in our artillery. Nevertheless he keeps us “tank-bound” for days
th the damn things. I’m writing this letter in my permanent “home.” We dig
xholes under our tanks, bank them up with earth around them and say, “Now
~ him blast away all day and night if he wants to.” We've grown to love our
holes. Eat, sleep and practically live here. At first we spurned the pick and
j-ovel till several of our boys “got it” from shrapnel. By now we've developed
new reflex action, as soon as the tank stops the shovels go into action.

One of the boys is sleeping, one writing home and the other two are fighting
at last battle all over again.

‘Time for lunch and the inevitable battle of who’s going to cook and what

cook. The food is excellent, a healthy balanced diet and plenty of it. .The
ly beef is that everything is canned. But once we get the old nose-bagz on we
aff ourselves like starved lions. I’ve never felt more fit, healthy and full of
vilment in all my life. :

Sleep is our biggest problem. We all stay on guard till last light, then each
es a turn of one to two hours on guard and then up at first light again—4:30 a.m.

And guard means guard for the first time. We sometimes wish there was a
ixed dine” like the last war-

As we sit out there at night every bush seems to rustle and we are certain
st inhuman Nazis eyes are watching, infiltrating our harbor, slinking every-
ere. I didn’t used to think I was afraid of the dark; now I’m not so sure.
So my finger’s on the trigger and it’s loaded. —VAL.

SAR MARK:

It’s 8:80 p.m. on the eve of our biggest attack. A break-through, we hope.
iese last two days have been hectic. Madly dashing from place to place, full of
eitement and expectancy. It’s going to be the big thing and Ruan a thrill it is
plan for it. We’re lucky to have two days to prepare. There'll be air support

Tanks become both weapon and home to tank troopers

beneath these vehicles.
damaged tanks ready for the mext scrap.

Letters from

But it’s the Nazi mortars and “moaning minnies” that are the damndest

who sleep in foxholes dug
Ground crews, mechanics, fitters and electricians work to get

nce

This is the conclusion of a series of letters sent by the author to
his friend in England. All through his experiences anti-fascist

convictions triumphed over every difficulty.

By Val Bjarnason

and all the latest weapons, some still secret. What a grandiose affair. I think
Ive worked harder “tee-ing” it up than I will in the battle itself. Made a recce
of the ground we'll be with, the artillery and so on.

The maps, air photographs and intelligence are superb. Seems nothing
could go wrong. The excitement and anticipation are terrific. Ive just briefed my.
Own troop—gave them every scoop of information I could lay my hands on.

Remember the schemes back in Canada, we used to wonder what the “real
thing” would be like. This is it. Most of my boys are taking it like veterans, they
are ready for anything. But each is an individual and has to be treated as such.
I’ve tried to get to know them all for just such occasions as these.

The odd one is a bit shaky and high strung, unless he is considered and helped
he ean be a bad influence on the rest. A pessimist, rumor-monger, or the like make
it very difficult. The odd one is a self-styled hero. “We get all the dirty jobs,
what about the Americans, a pushover job they’ve got.” “How about leaves”?
“Where’s those reinforcements, we’ye been taking it on the chin for weeks’?
I show absolutely no mercy for such opinions.’ We’ve had it tougls—but what about
the Desert Rats, the Red Army—and Tito? They soon come round.

The vast majority are the salt of the earth, boys from the farms and fac-
tories. They’ve fought all their lives to keep body and soul together. Fighting

comes natural. And how they fight! Tough, aggressive, they’re Canadians. I’m
mighty proud, Mark, to have the privilege to lead them into battle.

Dawn tomorrow all hell will break loose. But this evening, as the last rays
of sunlight stream in through the mouth of our little cave, where I’m writing,
everything seems so serenely quiet. :

Just an hour “ago rushing back from the squadron meeting I gave orders
to my troops with more enthusiasm than usual. This is going to be the big attack.
Everyone was keyed up. Not an ordinary thrill but something deep and moving;
everything is at stake. :

But now as I settle down for a few hours rest the tension relaxes. And
in the quiet, serene beauty of the sunset my mind«begins to take over from my
nerves. Ill continue on another page, Mark. = VAE-

DEAR MARK:

This is the continuation of the first page.

None of us want to die or to get maimed. Every natural instinct tells us not
to fight. There are any number of easy jobs back at echelon; brigade or division.
Every action is gripping, grilling—but every action means death and pain to some
of us who are bending down beneath these tanks tonight. I’d be downright dishon-
est if I didn’t admit that I feared death and for that reason I hated fighting. ;

It’s in the quiet of the evening that we think about it. Home: Madeline and
I had really begun to live. I figure I’m about the luckiest guy in the world.
What plans we have for the future—in the free, new world. She is ten times more
precious to me now—just as life seems to be, now that it is in danger.

It isn’t easy to face, and yet it’s easier than you might imagine, Mark. Our
folks always tell us that the folks back home have a much tougher= job than we

do. Every man has to tackle the problem and find some kind of solution. - Only
the odd one doesn’t He soon finds that w

rest camp. The vast majority take it in
solid, convinced that“‘he won’t get it.”

I can appreciate now hew fortunate those of us are who
have in our _own small way carried on the fight against
Fascism for many years; the studying, training, organizing
during the peaceful years is bearing rich fruit of understand-
ing and leadership now that the battle is joined.

And standing by, impatiently month after month we
have counted the heroic Sacrifices o

all over Europe and in the Red Ar
of friends and brothers.
been mounting within us,
finds an outlet.

f our comrades in arms
my as we would the loss
The great store of hate which has
seething for expression now finally

4

*t come easy. But once we- came
face to face with those inhuman bastards, squeamish sentiment

vanished like a flash. I couldn’t believe that killine would ever
become a pleasure, But if you could see the handiwork of the
master-vace at first hand you’ll readily understand: all the pic-
tures, newsreels and stories, even by Ilya Erhenburg suddenly be-
come real and yet seem tame compared to the monster in flesh.

The first taste of blood didn

The issue becomes so simple; black and white. Every grain of
logic; every feeling and emotion within you eried kill-Ikill!

My score is mounting—tomorrow it will go up, up—

But now I must get some sleep.

Hope you get here soon Mark, there are still plenty of
targets . : —VAL