Lowe High School - Towers Yearbook (Windsor, Ontario Canada)

Page 27 text:

The Windsor-Walkerville Technical School Year Book 23 about it, and played on with our toys, blissfully unaware of the great turmoil which was tearing Europe asunder. But one day when we were in school, we were startled by the sound of the trampling of many horses. Looking out we beheld a great number of German cavalry¬ men, and. young as we were, we realized, that our town had been taken by the Germans, and that we were prisoners. This was my first recollection of the Great War. The Germans proceeded to take up their quarters in the homes of the villagers, many of whom refus¬ ing to submit to their wishes, were taken from their loved ones and made to work against their native land. Refusing to do this many of them were shot, or imprisoned. All this while, the deafening roar of the cannons, and the bursting of shells continued. Sentinels were posted about the town and the people were allowed to go only certain distances. Every day long lines of soldiers passed through our town, carrying guns, and ammunition to the Front. During the bomb raids, which were numerous, we were obliged to stay in concrete cellars, until the danger was passed. 1 remember one time when my father was taken prisoner, but he escaped by crawling through a small hole in his prison, and re¬ turned to us almost dead from ex¬ haustion. After about four years of this, we were given word to leave the town, as the allies were coming. Abandoning our beloved home we were forced to flee, taking with us only a small amount of food, ancl a few articles of clothing, tied up in a big handkerchief. My sister, and 1 brought with us a small wagon filled with a few necessities. I re¬ member well the starting. It was eight o’clock, in a September even¬ ing. 1918. and all the little stars were out. With tear-dimmed eyes wc hade our home adieu, and started out along the highway. Before and behind us, were long lines of the refugees, each carrying bundles of his property. It was a pitiful sight. to see old men and women stagger¬ ing along the dusty road, with their possessions in their arms. Tiny children hardly old enough to walk alone, trudged bravely on, carrying heavy bundles. One old man wheeled his crippled wife in a wheel barrow. About ten o’clock, we reached the home of an aunt, who gave us shelter for the night. Early in the morning, we started out again. The line of the refugees was now miles long. About noon we reached the city of Courtrai, but, to our dismay, we found that the cit y was being bombed. We sought shelter in a cellar of a large building nearby. We were obliged to keep damp cloths over our noses and mouths to protect us from the poisonous gas. Even then, many people died from the effects of this gas. Among them was my uncle. As soon as we were able, we continued our journey. From town to town, we wandered, always keeping a certain distance ahead of the scene of fighting. Once we had a narrow escape. We had taken refuge in a large house, on the edge of a little town. We re¬ mained there peacefully a week, but at the end of that time my father declared that we must move on. My mother protested, saying that we had been so peaceful that it would be well for us to remain longer. But my father was firm, and that night we set out. And it was well for us that we did. Immediately after we had left, a family of twelve moved in. The morning after their arrival a bomb shattered the house, and all were killed, hut a twelve year old boy. For over a month we wandered on until at last came the joyful tidings, that the Armistice was signed. The people of Canada well remember the joy that surged through the country, at the news that the war was over. But, to us in Flanders, homeless, and bereaved by the war, it was a god¬ send, and our joy knew no bounds. And now it is all over. May God allow no more world strife. ANNA P1NOO—C3B.

Page 26 text:

22 The Windsor-Walkerville Technical School Year Book ated the scene. In the flash of white light, the house was revealed as empty and half in ruins, but at least it would afford a night ' s shelter from the terrible storm outside, after my long, weary tramp across country. In the deluge of rain that followed, I ran for shelter. Kicking open the heavy door, that swung on rusty hinges, 1 found mvself in a huge hall. Evidently it was an ancient house, for all the walls were covered with black panels. 1 made an exploration of the rooms and found the house, or whatever else it was, to consist of three stories, and on each story were a large number of rooms, both large and small. About forty rickety, un¬ comfortable looking chairs, with funny little cavities attached, and one big table, with several drawers down the front was the furniture in most of the rooms. Some rooms appeared to contain chemical apparatus, but oh! how primitive it was! Still other rooms contained huge, bulky ma¬ chines that could not possibly be convenient to work with. On one room the floor was marvelously polished, and a balcony ran all around. At each end and side, there was a funny basket-shaped ap¬ paratus, and dangling from leather straps from the roof, were big iron rings. Whatever were they for. I wondered. Above the entrance to this room, I made out what appeared to he hieroglyphics of some ancient speech, and these were the letters ‘G-mna-ium.” What it meant 1 did not know, and being no scholar, 1 did not try to decipher it. 1 came upon a huge room with several wooden tables and chairs and what seemed a long wooden barrier. Be¬ hind this on long shelves, were the remains of some old crockery. Above the doors of this room I made out the words Caf—er—a. The rest of the third floor was fast crumbling into ruins, so I made haste back to the first floor. There l found a row of rooms on the left side of the main entrance for there were many entrances, and in there 1 found as comfortable a chair as the place offered and was soon fast asleep. When I awoke the storm was over and the sun was streaming in at the dusty, cracked windows. In the early morning sun the large building with its dusty dilapidated interior looked more lonely still. As I walked away, 1 turned to look hack, and fixed a picture of the place in my mind. It was like some ancient castle, grand and awful, with four towers, fast crumbling. All around for miles, were old, ruined houses, much smaller than the place where 1 had slept. Above the huge, heavy doors were written the words, “Win—or- Yalk—ille Te—ni—al Sc ol, 1922. but as some of the letters were obliterated it meant nothing at all to me. So I passed on. leaving the ancient structure.behind, pondering over what people must have in¬ habited that strange structure years ago. 1 visited the teacher in the next city and he with the “stori- optican“ showed me scenes of 2000 years ago. Before my eyes material¬ ized a lovely building. Reading the inscription. I learned that it was one of the greatest schools of two thou¬ sand years ago, and what I had thought were panels on the walls were blackboards, and the rickety chairs were desks. Turning off the machine, I ruminated, thanking my lucky stars that I had not lived in that crude age, when the process of learning had been so cumbrous. VICTOR LARKE. -o- LIFE IN FLANDERS DURING THE GREAT WAR “In Flanders Field where poppies grow!” Perhaps these few words mean nothing to you today, but less than ten years ago. Flanders was the scene of a great world strife such as had never before been witnessed. Of course when war was declared, it meant nothing to us children, and in a short time we had forgotten all

Page 28 text:

24 The Windsor-Walkerville Technical School Year Book MY TRIP TO CANADA I was born in Lublin, Poland, where my father had a business of liis own, but lie was dissatisfied with it and three years later found him with the store sold and on his way to Canada, leaving mother, an older sister and a younger brother and myself, lie left with the intention of sending for us as soon as he settled down here and about two months later we received a letter telling us of his safe arrival and that he was in Toronto, Canada. After that letters came regularly and one day we received one which told us that tickets were on their way for us to come to Toronto. But we were destined never to get those tickets for the Great War broke out and all means of communication were stopped. Meanwhile things were going from bad to worse in Poland. The Bolsheviki bombed Lublin and to safeguard the people, a rule was made prohibiting anyone from being out after six in the afternoon. Only doctors were allowed out after that hour. About ten minutes past six, large crowds could be seen marching to jail for a night’s sleep. And then one day it was said that the Ger¬ mans were coming into the city. Every door was bolted and locked and we all ran to hide in the attic. About two hours later they came. It was lucky for the people that the invaders were driven out before much harm was done, but there was enough for us to remember. As it would take too long to tell about the four or five years of fighting and, as I suppose most of you know about it anyway, I will continue with the story of our journey to Windsor. Ont. Receiving tickets and money from my father again when the war was over, we started out. There were no passenger trains so we rode in an open box-car with the prisoners of war. We were in great fear for we did not know when our last minute would arrive, because the Bolshevik bombs were falling from aeroplanes all the time. At last we came safely to Warsaw, the beautiful capital of Poland. As there were no taxis, we had to hire a horse and wagon to drive us to another station. We left Warsaw and came to Danzig where we spent the time shopping or exploring. From there we passed on to London. We saw the king’s palace. Westminster Ab¬ bey and other famous places, but we did not know then that these places were famous. To us they were just something new. From there we went by boat to Liverpool and we stayed there two months wait¬ ing for our boat and idling away our time. At last our boat the “Min¬ nesota” came. After we were ex¬ amined by the doctors, we boarded the ship. For two days our ship was tossed about on the stormy waters and we were expecting the worst and had our life-saving belts on but the waters gradually calmed down and we were safe again. We had became acquainted with the cook and baker and through them we fared on the best that the ship could afford as far as eating was con¬ cerned. It was near Christmas time when we came to Montreal, and having changed into a small boat we first saw Canada from the Montreal dock. We boarded the last vehicle of our journey, the C.P.R. train. On the train I learned to say the word “time” and was continually asking the conductor if it were time to leave the train yet. My sister and I were practising to each other how we would meet my father as soon as we got off the train. Meanwhile, my father had moved to Windsor and owing to a delay did not receive our telegram in time to meet us at the station. We stayed about three days. Then one morning I had got up earlier than the rest and was stand¬ ing in the front room when somebody knocked at the door and entered. He spoke to me in English and I ran to tell the landlady about it. She ca» and poke to him for a few minutes, then exclaimed, “Why this