The custom of handing over war memorabilia is the flicker of a bygone era, and museums are seeing a boom in donations. “It’s sad to see the disconnect between the families moving on and anyone who was there [in the wars]said Hugh O’Donnell, a retired sergeant major for Canada’s Queen’s Own Cameron Highlanders, based at the Minto Armory in Winnipeg. “But at the same time, that’s what these guys fought for.” They fought for peace so that the nightmare of war would be forgotten, he said, but added “unfortunately, the world is not peaceful.” What disappears, however, is the link with those who wore the uniforms in the great wars. Many children of WW1 soldiers are dead or old and the grandchildren are now carrying on. “In some cases it’s their turn soon, so they want to make sure these things go to a good home instead of being abandoned to whoever cleans the place up after they’re gone,” O’Donnell said. Hugh O’Donnell sits next to Andrew Duncan’s First World War kit. After his death, Duncan’s items went to his two daughters and their families, eventually ending up with two of his grandchildren, who donated them to the Winnipeg museum. (Darren Bernhardt/CBC) Often, returning soldiers never talked about what happened in the war, so their children knew little about it and grandchildren even less. When memorabilia stored in trunks and attics reaches the descendants of fourth-generation soldiers, there is little connection left. In other cases, the lineage ends with no one left, said Gord Crosley, curator of the Fort Garry Horse Museum and Archives, a regimental museum in Winnipeg. “We’ve seen an increase in families who either don’t want to keep these things or in some cases, they don’t know what they’re coming to see us at the museum for,” said Crossley, who is also the heritage officer for the Canadian Forces Base. of 17 Wing in Winnipeg. “I would say probably the last five years [donations have increased]and mainly because of the death of World War II veterans.”
Objects tell stories
The items that come in tell fascinating stories, Crossley said. An aluminum tin came in a few years ago with two names engraved – one of an American soldier and one of a Canadian. Both were captured by the Japanese military at different times during World War II. US pewter was first marked by the American who owned it. Later the Japanese took it and it was given to the Canadian, who wrote his own name. “It’s really warped on the bottom from scraping with their spoons to get every bite of what little food they were given,” Crossley said. The Canadian soldier, a Winnipegger, brought it home as soon as he was released. He later lost his sight because of the diseases and malnutrition he suffered as a prisoner, Crossley said. Canada’s Queen’s Own Cameron Highlanders Museum curator Grant Tyler, right, shows a trench model at the museum. (Darren Bernhardt/CBC) O’Donnell said he noticed a spike in donations shortly after the pandemic began and people stayed home, turning their attention to organizing and cleaning. “We had [souvenir] plates … commando daggers since the kids came up [Scotland] to train for the Dieppe Raid, various other items of clothing,” he said. “It’s a real mix of what’s out there.” There has also been a mix of emotions as people abandon the items, he said. “Some have a really, really hard time parting with them, but they know their time is coming. So others don’t really want them anymore, but at the same time, it’s the last link.” Tyler holds up the jacket from Duncan’s uniform. Horsehair sporran is held in the foreground. (Darren Bernhardt/CBC) For Ian O’Connell and Clinton MacKenzie, sending their grandfather’s First World War uniform to the Queen’s Own Cameron Highlanders museum in Minto marked a homecoming. Andrew Duncan served overseas with the 43rd Cameron Highlanders from 1914 to 1919 and was twice wounded by shrapnel at Vimy Ridge in France before returning home to Winnipeg. After his death at age 85, his items went to his two daughters and their families, eventually ending up with O’Connell in Washington, DC and MacKenzie in Ottawa. The near-complete kit – from wool kit and jacket to leather eyelets, horsehair sporans and Glengarry bonnet – arrived at the armory in September 2021, returning to Winnipeg. Spats, a brass-topped Glengarry bonnet of the 43rd Battalion (Cameron Highlanders of Canada) and a pair of medals — British War Medal (with wide orange stripe) and Victory Medal — that once belonged to Duncan. (Darren Bernhardt/CBC) It was also accompanied by a pair of medals, plaques and embroidered handkerchiefs, the latter of which Duncan created while recovering from his injuries. “I’m going to retire here in a year or so and I have three daughters, all of whom have very small parts and none of whom were particularly interested in the uniform because they never met my grandfather,” O’Connell said. he said. “So I thought, what am I going to do with this? I wouldn’t want my daughters trying to figure this out after I die at some point in the future.” Their research led him to the Highlanders museum website. O’Connell then contacted MacKenzie, who was in a similar situation, with a daughter who knows little about Duncan. Soon, all of Duncan’s once scattered pieces were reunited in one collection. Needle that Duncan made while recovering from an injury. (Darren Bernhardt/CBC) While it was a little sad to see the uniform go, “it felt so much better to put it in the hands of an organization that will take care of it,” O’Connell said. McKenzie agreed. “I’m not going to be able to keep them and take care of them forever, so if I can find a good home for them, that’s great. And it looks like we did.”
