900 Canadian soldiers died in a stupidly botched attack on France in 1942, the historians called it the failed invasion at Dieppe. A plane was dispatched from Ottawa filled with maple leaves, to scatter on the graves of the fallen as part of the rememberance ceremonies in November of '42. (Unlike other countries, Canda rarely re-patriates the war dead, they are normally intered in special cemetaries in Europe) This poem appeared in the Ottawa Citizen, written by a journalism student whose brothers were "over there".
Ainslie's younger brother eventually forged his father's signature, and went to war, came back, had a long and excellent career in the public service, and is now a resident of the veterans home here in Ottawa. Through his Alzheimer's, he quoted this poem written by his older brother to a citizen reporter, Kelley Egan. Thank you Mr. Egan for salvaging this piece of doggrel for us. Doggrel it may be, but it IS heartfelt, and illuminates an instant of history.
After Dieppe.
We sent you Maple leaves today
To strew upon your grave
'Tis little, to be sure, and yet
What matter what we gave
There are no words to tell our love
For strong Canadian sons.
No words to thank those stalwart men
Who traded games for guns.
No gifts to pay the debt we owe,
For Death denies remittance
And all our tribute, all our wealth
Were but a puny pittance.
But there are thoughts more deep than death
When hearts are fraught with woe,
The heart of Canada will call
And reach to where you go.
You were so brave, so young, so true;
You had to keep the trust,
For brave young hearts had died before.
You only thought it just.
The rich green fields will miss you, men,
Now that you choose to stay:
And forests, hills and woodland streams
Will weep for many a day.
Now English pines will shelter you
And whisper English grief,
And we who cannot go, we send
A precious maple leaf.
by Ainslie Kerr, August 1942
