In this article, Tim Cook reflects on the legacy of Canadian soldiers who were killed during the Second World War and who are now buried in distant cemeteries, such as in Reykjavik, Iceland. Iceland was pivotal for maintaining control of the North Atlantic and defending sea lanes from German U-boats. Both Canadian and American forces were stationed there as part of a larger Allied effort, facilitating not just naval operations but also fostering greater logistical cooperation and intelligence-sharing among Allied forces. Canadian forces worked to forge strong international ties to defend western democracy and contribute to the global war against fascism. Cook’s recent book, The Good Allies: How Canada and the United States Fought Together to Defeat Fascism during the Second World War, emphasizes the importance of the close coordination between Canada and the United States, as well as the strategic importance of distant locations like Iceland in shaping international stability and security. Some eighty years later, the headstones of soldiers stationed on the island continue to attest to the grief of their families, and is a touching reminder of their sacrifice.
“WE DO NOT THINK OF YOU AS DEAD BUT JUST A FEW SHORT STEPS AHEAD.” So reads the epitaph on the headstone for Able Seaman Leonard Watson, who served in the Second World War aboard the Royal Canadian Navy destroyer, HMCS Skeena.
The message to future generations was chosen by his parents, Robert Frederick and Edith May Watson, to mark their 21-year-old son who died on 25 October 1944. As a parent of three daughters, one of them only two years younger than Leonard, I felt a choke in my throat as I read the inscription aloud to my wife as we stood holding hands in a Commonwealth War Graves Commission Cemetery in Reykjavik, Iceland.
I often walk with the dead. As a historian, I seek out those Canadians who have served in uniform and who never made it back to their loved ones.
Over 120,000 Canadians have been killed in wars and service, most of them in the two world wars, and even more came home wounded in body and mind. For those cut down in battle or succumbing to their injuries, they are often named on monuments like at Vimy or buried in Commonwealth War Graves Commission cemeteries around the world.
After the First World War, Canada agreed to allow its fallen service personnel to be cared for by the war graves commission in these silent cities, and it continues to pay for the upkeep of headstones, gravesites, and monuments, on average about $13 million a year.
When I travel, I make time for these cemeteries. And so, when in Iceland recently, I went looking for Canadians who served there and never left.
The story of Iceland’s importance to the Allied war effort against Hitler’s Nazi Germany is recounted in my new book, The Good Allies, which examines the many ways that Canada and the United States worked together during the Second World War to first defend the northern hemisphere, and then take the fight to the fascist forces abroad.
HMCS Assiniboine in Iceland, May 1942. Iceland allowed warships and vessels a place to refuel and seek shelter from brutal storms. The RCAF also stationed squadrons there to take the fight to the German U-boats. [LAC Item ID 4950936]
At the start of the long struggle, Canada chose to stand by Britain. The United States stayed neutral, much to the anger of the western democracies. But Canada’s prime minister, William Lyon Mackenzie King, along with senior officers and diplomats, understood the importance of working with the Americans to strengthen defence, security, and trade.
The White House also came to respect the Canadians who pulled their weight as dependable allies. The two countries were anxious to keep the Germans at bay and they were fighting together after the Japanese surprise strike on 7 December 1941, followed by Hitler’s ill-advised declaration of war against the US.
Facing the brutal Axis powers, the North Americans learned to work alongside one another, with the Royal Canadian Navy helping the US defend the east and west coast against German and Japanese submarine threats. Royal Canadian Air Force squadrons and anti-aircraft guns operated out of Alaska to defend against the encroaching Japanese forces. The separate British dominion of Newfoundland was critical to defence of the east coast and the Battle of the Atlantic, and both Canada and the US found ways to work together there, as soldiers, airmen, sailors, and other service personnel came to know the Rock and its people. Raw materials, minerals, and finished goods passed freely across the border, with both sides seeking to aid and amplify rather than horde and hinder. Together, the US and Canada was stronger.
As part of the death struggle to secure North America and fight abroad, Canada had 1.1 million Canadians in uniform, about one tenth of the country’s population. As part of a global war effort, several thousand Canadians were stationed in Iceland.
The desolate island, almost 3,000 kilometres from Canada, was no prize destination in the summer of 1940 when the first army battalions arrived. The volcanic landscape was barren and alien, and the Icelandic people were not happy about this friendly if still unwelcomed Allied invading force, which also eventually included some 30,000 Americans. But Iceland was critical to defence of the sea lanes, especially in driving back the German U-boats that prowled the Atlantic seeking to sink warships and the merchant navy fleet. The Allies paid the price but turned the tide, eventually victorious.
Some 80 years later, we set off for the Reykjavik (Fossvogur) Cemetery, where most of the Canadians are buried on the island.
Etched in stone, one can read the service of the 48 Canadians who lie there.
We found a seventeen-year-old, Lucien Paiement, who served with Les Fusiliers Mont-Royal, his headstone indicating he died on 1 October 1940. Like many underage soldiers, he must have added a few years to his age when he enlisted, although in death his proper age was recorded. His bereaved parents inscribed an epitaph on his headstone, TON SOUVENIR RESTE GRAVE DANS NOS COEURS. TES PARENTS ATTRISTES. (Your memory remains etched in our hearts. Your grieving parents.)
Iceland allowed warships and vessels a place to refuel and seek shelter from brutal storms. The RCAF also stationed squadrons there to take the fight to the German U-boats.
25-year-old Pilot Officer Gordon Douglas Hay of Ottawa died on 28 May 1943. His parents chose this epitaph: “TO HIM LIFE CAME TO A SUDDEN END: HE DIED, AS HE LIVED, EVERYONE’S FRIEND.” He is buried with his crew, who also went down with him. Twenty-year-old Pilot Officer Donald Eugena Woodfield left behind his parents, who, in their sorrow, wrote his epitaph: “SOME DAY WE’LL UNDERSTAND.” Their son’s stark end was too much to bear.
Grave of Pilot Officer D.E. Woodfield. [Author’s photo]
Each of these headstones tells a story. Grief continues to radiate from the stone. Having died too young, these Canadians left behind wives, children, siblings, parents, and others who loved them.
On this isolated front in the global war against fascism, they gave their all.
It is up to us to seek out that history, to remember the dead and what they fell for in that necessary war that continues to cast a dark shadow, but also provides evidence of how Canada stood by its allies, aided the oppressed, and understood it was a force for good in the world.
Tim Cook is Chief Historian and Director of Research at the Canadian War Museum, where he curated the First World War permanent gallery, as well as temporary, travelling, and digital exhibitions. He received his PhD from the Australian Defence Force Academy in 2005 and is the author or editor of nineteen books on Canadian military history, including his latest, The Good Allies: How Canada and the United States Fought Together to Defeat Fascism during the Second World War. Cook has received multiple history and writing awards and for his contributions he is a fellow of the Royal Society of Canada and a member of the Order of Canada.