EDMUND IS MISSING.........

I wonder if everybody has an "Edmund."

My father had an uncle Edmund. Edmund was one of three brothers; he, William, who fell at Vimy Ridge in 1917, and Henry, my grandfather. So he was my grand-uncle and very little is known about him in the family. If there ever was a photo of him, I am unaware of it. William was the youngest, born in 1891, Henry was next, 1888, and Edmund was the oldest, born in 1882. If any of my cousins out there know anything about him, please share.

I do know that all three served in the First World War, what a horror that must have been for their parents. Makes you think of the Tom Hanks movie "Saving Private Ryan." My grandfather was mature for having enlisted, at 26. William was 23, and his story, though not uncommon, was sad nonetheless. He died on April 9th, 1914, which was Day One of the Battle of Vimy Ridge, a very strategic battle. He must have been among the first wave of Canadians who were sent in to pave the way with their blood and bones, so the following waves could gain some ground on the field. William's body is buried at Nord-Pas-de-Calais, France. His name lives on in the family. My father was named for him, my brother too, and one of my sons and a nephew also carries the name William.

This is an excerpt of the 1901 Census, which is a fountain of information.

And note: Edmund's father, my great grandfather, was sixteen years older than his wife, and she, my great grandmother was a whopping fifteen years old when Edmund was born. Nothing unusual at the time, as my father's parents, Henry and Elizabeth were eighteen years apart.

But the eldest Chaisson brother Edmund is still a mystery. He is listed in the Census during that time, so we know he isn't a made up brother. And we're unsure of the spelling of his name. Edmond. Edmound. Edmund. Chaisson. Chiasson. Chassen.....who knows, the Census was only as accurate as the person writing down the information. (Right, Maurine?)

And in the late 1800s and early 1900s, a lot of people were illiterate, and did the best they could, but a lot of mistakes were made.

About 20 years ago my father's youngest sister, Isabell started rooting around for information on her Uncle Edmund. She had never known him, but probably heard her father speak of him on occasion.

What she pieced together at that time was the following:

Edmund left home to enlist, but for some reason the family thought he went to Newfoundland to sign up. Newfoundland, as we know, did not join Confederation until 1949, so if he was there, and if he enlisted, he would have been signed up as a British subject, and not Canadian. This would certainly have muddied things.

No more word of him was ever heard.

Henry was the only brother left to carry on the family name. And he had four sons.

But whatever became of Edmund? There's nothing to base any facts of his disappearance on, there's only guesswork and assumptions.

Did he join the Navy? The Air Force? The Army? As a Canadian? Or a Brit? Or did he really enlist at all......

This past winter (2023) I made a phone call one evening to my cousin David Perry, Chair of the local Legion, to see if he could ever shed any light on the situation. And he was intrigued. He did a thorough search using the Canadian Expeditionary Force records, available on line to anyone, but it turned up nothing. Edmund had disappeared. It proved that he had not enlisted as a Canadian, but if he had indeed enlisted in England (Newfoundland) it would be a matter of an international search. So much is unknown.

If indeed, Edmund's intent was to disappear so as not to have to fight, well, who could blame him, it would have been pretty terrifying. And he was 32 years old the year the War started, so he wasn't a kid looking for adventure. But if he served in England, well, that changes everything.

Did he make it through the war? Or is he buried somewhere overseas in an unmarked grave?

Did he have a family? Is there a branch of Chaisson cousins I know nothing about? Is there some young man working in a shoestore somewhere in Liverpool who is a dead ringer for one of my brothers? I could make up stories all day. (And sometimes have.....)

But to me, they were heroes all. Those who came back and those who didn't. Those who came back with injuries, and those who carried injuries you couldn't see. Which I suspect was most of them, they endured some unspeakable things.

But they accomplished what they set out to do, and saved us all from tyranny. They paid a price. Most of those boys and men came back with their childhood missing.

Unfortunately one war doesn't stop the next one. We are living in a time of terrible global conflict. And over what? Who knows, everybody is right. No side in a conflict is ever going to say they're wrong.

My heart just bursts when I look at this photo of a 17 year-old Billie Chaisson. He had no idea that his stubbornness at enlisting too soon, would change the course of his young life forever. Although he would train and serve as a tank operator and gunner, his tragic death didn't happen overseas.

So this weekend, I will lay a wreath for my father at the Remembrance Day ceremony in Souris. I've done it each and every year since I was eighteen, after I graduated from high school and took over most tasks from my grandmother. When Darrell still lived at home, he was called upon too, and now sometimes one of my grandkids helps lay the wreath, and that makes me enormously proud. It's such a sign of respect.

It was a sombre time then and it still is, it seems the whole world holds it's breath. We become a quiet crowd, filing in to our familiar places around the Legion, at Legions all over the country. We've done it in wind, in rain, and in snow. Or all three. No one complains.

I will end off this week's Blog with this well loved poem, familiar to us all. For me, it is both a prayer and a warning.

"In Flanders Fields"

This poem was written during the First World War by Canadian physician Lieutenant-Colonel John McCrae. He was inspired to write it on May 3, 1915, after presiding over the funeral of friend and fellow soldier Lieutenant Alexis Helmer, who died in the Second Battle of Ypres. At that time he noted how poppies quickly grew around the graves of those who died in the battle. According to legend, fellow soldiers retrieved the poem after McCrae, initially dissatisfied with his work, discarded it. In Flanders Fields was first published on December 8 of that year in the London magazine.

"In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below. We are the Dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved, and now we lie In Flanders fields. Take up our quarrel with the foe: To you from failing hands we throw The torch; be yours to hold it high. If ye break faith with us who die We shall not sleep, though poppies grow..... In Flanders fields."