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Six Canadian Civilians Back From Europe

OTTAWA, MAY l. -— (C? - Rt- their

If H Convent in Quvbe gvho g2?! been interned in Fran‘???

ih kxgnlh the southern Atlantic; luv. Leo Verret 0i! Eldrnurlston, N 3..

Bret-agnevllle,

g _ u-sv ille. . ll/lslwsnd her son Paul of Vim- couver, who had been under Ger- man surveillance in Belfllum Sister Clare de Jesus is believed ‘an nun to return to

mom-controlled Belfllllm

The Sister told how she had been interned in December, i940. WW" nine French-Canadian 8nd n” British nun; st a wornens wnfiig; tretlon camp st Behscon, near v: sns Irontier We!’ 1B!" W" moved i0 Vii/kl. l the

she told also how nuns n‘ of different camps and other WA?” d occupied 13111000 hflped e pflssigemsaifiacllpewus me Ell-tiers 0* Charity in Metz. Fringe. 2M0 “elm 5°“ Hem Gm; haiku‘; from that fortress alongth l made French officers. “he Meant‘) aid their way w "Wiht-‘rflfs advance the Allies in their vico 0 and against the Nag ganisons forces there.

Says New Guinea Ii ilrinkied Hall 0i Bush, Swamp

UG HOW

(chill. ‘l3... sun wi-im-i

The“ are days in which Allied armies strike hard, often. hcaflltlo iently because they klwvll‘ 05m" right and they hav t Q with which to 11 111'»-

ex eriment. wllen the lives of the sacrificed to learn the lemme! 10!‘ the many who now are inexorable in their might and their knowledge. Dieppe was a bit of both, but mostly it was a slimy. unbeliev- aibie desperation “where WhiiE mm slipped and lllthered. pant- ed, lwated. bled. sickened. 4m)?- ped a/nd died in s sodden and crinkled hell ‘of mountain and lorest and swampy

It is of New Guinea that Osmar White writes in ”

Ailstraiian - educat- __wn:lcnt has im- experiences in

he achieves success. Thme, few of his sentences. may best lvrve to telescope and give the feel o! his story:

Incredible Prlvstiono

He leads 90 native bearers o1’

glglllies 120 savage miles over the h trail to Wau.

‘Without exceptions our carriers nave diseased skins. Nearly every- one has an enlarged spleen Their labor is incredible. .. there is a. war in New Guinea- and there are times when I be iieve any war against the face of this these are the people who are in: it zicm‘. The pr-i rivers sud swamps m. .| come and hire their bod lobscco and die of pneumoiu. posure, exhaustion in the mountains. .. .. .. They have never known liberty to want to save it. . .. .. I sm obeyed like a God."

Of New Guinea scouts:

"Men on patrol existed like am- phibious wild animals. They spent their days and nights in clinging

grlensdcs " in and still sa

their sacrifice launched the Allies on realistic training. Of irest'

“All night I kc t passinv lino: of wounded men. ‘llhey shuffled st a snail’: mice. holding each other in long pitiful strings. Men would ""09 off and iio isca down in the mud. The next string would help them into the bushes bv the side o! the trail. Borne died there. some recovered and moved on.

hat pure and shining courage when ihev fight for what they believe

Pr b: a lust came

rig l0 iaf/lreryau... '

The wards oi the Military Hospital are silent. Dim night lights keep vigil over long rows of beds. In every bed a Canadian boy has taken a furlough from pain in the blessed oblivion of sleep.

As the electric clock points to midnight, the silence is broken by a flurry of movement. Doctors andnurses hurry to a bed at the far end of the ward. Screens are swiftly wheeled into place.

A few boys awake,- and propped on elbows, peer through the half-light. They know the meaning of those white barriers.- They know that life and death have locked in final combat.

The Padre strides quickly through the ward. As he approaches, the Doctor shakes his head and steps back. A nurse rearranges the pillows with gentle hands. Then the Padre is alone with a boy far from home. Against the white pillows his damp, curly hair looks vividly alive.

“l’m glad you came, Padre,” he whispers. “Will you read me something?” Then almost as an afterthought he adds, “l’m dying a i l ”_

The Padre could only open his worn Bible and seek blindly for the 23rd Psalm:

“The Lord is my shepherd: l shall not want . . . ”

As the gracious words of the Psalm whisper out, the boy’s lips move in unison. ‘Then the Padre prays-a short prayer for an airman on his flight to God. Peace, like a benedic-

tion, lingers on the pallirl faca After a.

short silence, the boy looked at the Padre.

“I’m sorry to bother you ~. . so late at night," he murmured.

He died as the first light of dawn filtered into the hospital ward.- <-

He died thinking of others.‘ As you live, do you stop to think of the thousands of young men who face death daily-for you? Can your war effort compare with theirs? Can you ever say, "1 think I've done cnoug ’*

Think of these men when the Victory Bond Salesman calls on you. Yours cannot be a token purchase-it must be an “"0003 efiort.

_'I'he most you con buy is the least you can-do.

rzsuizxseruwwiowi-tufir».

‘This is the miestovyofa young aimzan from Southern Alberta as told by his Padre.

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NHQIIONAL WAR nuance couumse ~