Branksome Hall - Slogan Yearbook (Toronto, Ontario Canada)

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The Branksome Slogan 27 About halfway up the mountain there was a collection of small caves in which it was decided to live until better shelter could be found. The men took turns in hunting for food. When Carl ' s turn came, he left early in the morning- with two other men. When they returned at night, they were surprised to find no fire burning.. A feel- ing of dread filled Carl ' s heart as he ran towards the cave where Nora and Olaf lived. A soft cry escaped his lips as he gazed into the cave. By the light of the pale moon he could see Nora and Olaf lying on the ground, bullet-holes through their heads. One of the other men who had been with him came to him after inspecting the whole camp. There was not a living person left. The Germans had killed all the women and children and taken away the men. The two surviving men and Carl joined a Guerilla band. Carl stayed with the band for five long years; but as soon as the war was over, he returned to Bergen, and waited there until he could get a passage for Canada. . . . The voice of the official cut in on his thoughts. Silently he re- ceived his passports, picked up the few bags he had and went out onto the deck. There before him was a free country, a country where a man could live his own life without an oppressor. Slowly Number Seventeen shouldered his bags and walked down the gang- plank towards his new home, a home where he could start a new life knowing that he would be among friends until death. Lunch Hour PAT MARRINER, Form 11.

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26 The Branksome Slogan Number Seventeen ' ' Number Seventeen; Seventeen next! As the voice rang through the crowded cabin of the lines, a slight, blond man stepped eagerly up to the official ' s desk. He was one of the many Norwegian refugees who were coming over to Canada to start life anew. They were given numbers to make it easier for the officials to check their papers. When he reached the desk the usual questions were asked: ' ' Name. Carl Norburg. Birth place. Bergen, Norway. Destination. Alberta, Canada. May I see your papers, please? While the official looked through his papers. Number Seventeen, alias Car] Norburg, turned and looked out a porthole. The ship had just docked at Queibec. He looked with interest upon the quays bustling with activity and at the old buildings which rose above them. He thought how different it looked from the streets of Bergen, many of which were made impassable by piles of rubble still to be cleared away. He thought of the pictures he had seen of the acres and acres of grain which grew so abundantly on the prairies. Then he pictured the fields surrounding Bergen, bare and desolate, dotted here and there with the rusty remains of war machines — machines which had been used in the war in which he had fought, the war in which he had lost everything that was dear to him, his family and his home. The picture of that terrible day when the Germans came was still very clear in his mind. It had been a bright sunny day. Carl had gotten up as usual to do the chores around the farm. He had been pitching hay down to the cattle in the bam when suddenly his neigh- bour burst in. Carl, quickly! quickly! We must flee! he cried. The Germans are coming and taking all able-bodied men tO ' work in their factories. Get your wife and son, and hurry ! We are going to the mountains ! Carl did not need a second warning. He ran intoi the house and told his wife, Nora, and son, Olaf, what had happened. In ten minutes they had made a bundle of essentials and the three started off quickly across the fields towards the mountains. They were soon joined by other people from the farms near-by.

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28 The Branksome Slogan GROPING Lies far beyond our sluggish minds, Our efforts, our desires, A land of love, of joy, of peace. To which each soul aspires. ' Neath bold impulse of rashful youth, In lover ' s patient heart. Secluded in the mother ' s breast, The same swift longings dart. All toiling men of low degree. All men of art and fame. All humans on the earth to-day Are, underneath, the same. For groping for a brighter world Amid chaotic care, All lift their eyes above the skies To what lies hidden there. JOYCE DIBBLEE, Form 11. FRIENDSHIP True friendship is a sacred thing That ' s built up with the years, That ' s dipped in many joys of life, And bathed in many tears. DIANE CROSS, Form 1. The scoffers said that it couldn ' t be done — The odds were so great, who wouldn ' t? But I tackled the job that couldn ' t be done, And what do you know? It couldn ' t ! DORIE BATES, Form V. i