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H. Vondette – My Naval Career – 1941-1978

My hometown was Pembroke , Ontario , located 100 miles north of Ottawa on the Ottawa River, opposite Allumette Island . My mother was a Fitzpatrick, her mother was a Kelly. Their families, Fitzpatrick and Kelly, to a large extent came to Canada from Ireland around 1840. In my father's family, both my great-grandfather and grandfather married Irish wives, Relehan and Scully respectively in 1848 and 1879, at Mount Saint Patrick's Church in Renfrew , Ontario .

Ursula and I were married at the Royal Naval College Chapel in 1948. Ursula's family have been in Canada since 1780. My father's family came from France . René Vandé/Vandet, born 1637, Poitou , France and Marie Hariot, born 1655, were the first to come to Canada . They married on April 11, 1671 at Quebec City . The name Vandé, or Vandet, has gradually morphed into Vondette.

I was baptized, confirmed and attended at St. Columbkille Roman Catholic Cathedral and was a member of the boys' choir. I attended a separate school and was taught by nuns. In Grades 9 and 10, boys were taught by a priest. I enjoyed school very much and did very well. After completing grade 10, I attended Pembroke Collegiate Institute for the better part of two years.

I joined the Navy as an Ordinary Seaman towards the end of 1941, when I was seventeen years of age and was trained as a Visual Signalman. Signalmen were in very short supply and, apart from short courses to upgrade/enhance my Signalman's qualifications, I stayed at sea throughout the war, on convoy escort duty in the Battle of the Atlantic, serving in the North Atlantic .

One of the best-known slogans of the Second World War was, “the walls have ears”; and “loose lips sink ships”. We were also instructed that we were not to keep a diary, nor were we to discuss our activities or say where we were, or what we had done. This advice was followed absolutely, especially by Signalmen whose duties involved the transmission of signal communications generally, and the use of codes and decodes. It was a matter of self-preservation. The Navy was, after all, the “Silent Service”.

Despite all this cautionary advice, it has never ceased to amaze me the large number of people, including high-ranking people, who have authored the most detailed accounts of their activities. After completing new entry training, which involved little more than learning how to march, physical training, and how to salute properly, I started signal training at the Signal School at St. Hyacinthe , Quebec . We had to learn to read semaphore, whether it was sent from in front of or behind its sender at the rate of 24 words per minute; we had to learn the Morse code, to read and transmit it; and special naval abbreviated symbols and their meanings by flashing light at a minimum speed of 14 words per minute. We had to learn the different flags of the Naval Code and International Code and their meanings. As well, Signalmen had to learn the meanings of naval manoeuvring signals.

Our instructors were highly trained and knowledgeable pensioned Chief Yeoman of Signals from the Royal Navy, because Canada did not have sufficient trained personnel to spare. After I became a trained signalman, I was sent to the manning depot at Halifax , where I was immediately assigned to HMCS “ Trail ” and sent to Levis , Quebec .

HMCS “ Trail ” was a Corvette, which was then on escort duty, escorting convoys in the St. Lawrence and the Gulf of St. Lawrence . HMCS “ Trail ” left Levis , Quebec , shortly after I joined the ship and I was assigned, when not on watch as a Signalman, as a member of the loading crew of a depth charge thrower.

HMCS “ Trail ” sailed shortly afterward and we became involved in the night action. In the ensuing action, we dropped a number of patterns of depth charges. A ship, SS “Donald Stewart”, had been torpedoed and was on fire and in due course one of the “Donald Stewart” lifeboats came alongside HMCS “ Trail ” . As I was nearby, I helped the survivors aboard. The first man on board came from my hometown (his name was Gordie Kahl) and he had been a classmate of mine within the last year. He had obtained employment with the Mcnamara Construction Company in the building of Goose Bay Airport . Goose Bay continued without his help – he and the other survivors were shortly afterward landed at Gaspé.

“On May 11, 1942 , a German U-Boat torpedoed SS “ Nicoya ” (off Gaspé). By the end of 1944, another 21 merchant ships and four Canadian warships would be destroyed. More than 300 men, women and children died by explosion, fire, or an icy drowning.”

“Until now (2004), there has been no accessible and accurate re-telling of this tragic chapter in Canadian war history”. See The Battle of the St. Lawrence – the Second World War in Canada – by Nathan M. Greenfield © 2004; Published by Harper Collins Publishers Ltd.

As Greenfield states in the Preface to his book, “The Battle of the St. Lawrence wasn't hidden from Canadians during the war. Rather, for three generations the nation's curriculum writers have been engaged in an ongoing act of forgetting. Forgetting in the darkest days of the Second World War, hundreds of men, women and children were killed by Nazis who plied our inland waters; forgetting that thousands of Canadians volunteered to defend our shores”.

I later transferred to HMCS “Arrowhead” which, under its Captain, Alfred Skinner, fought three actions in the St. Lawrence during 1942. “Arrowhead” arrived in St. John's , Newfoundland and I was drafted to HMCS “Trillium” in early March 1943. HMCS “Trillium”, like “Arrowhead”, was a “Flower Class” Corvette. “Trillium” spent the entire war in one of the mid-ocean escort groups, on the Newfoundland-Londonderry (Newfy-Derry) runs. Later, I was the Yeoman of Signals in a frigate, HMCS “Sea Cliff”, and later still in HMCS “Restigouche”.

Lookouts generally rotated in their duty, which gave them a change of scenery and provided respite from the weather. Signalmen stood their entire four-hour watch on an open bridge with the officer of the watch, and sometimes often with the captain of the ship. Signalmen prided themselves on the fact that they were the first to see things. Signalmen read all signals to the ship and interpreted them to the officer of the watch and the captain. Although the captain and the officer of the watch were responsible for the actions they took, signalmen felt that they shared their responsibility and that they were an important part of the bridge team and were respected.

Life during the war was strenuous. We never got enough sleep and slept fully clothed. We learned to catnap, except on watch! Exhaustion played a part. We could not complain of lying awake nights. We spent a lot of time at “action stations”. But we were young and life was always interesting. You did not lose interest. It was a matter of self-preservation.

With the war in Europe over, there was a call for volunteers for the Pacific. I volunteered and was sent to the Signal School at St. Hyacinthe to become familiar with USN Signal Communications and USN Signal Publications. That was where I met Ursula, my wife-to-be. She was training as a radar plotter. The bomb that was dropped on Hiroshima and followed by one on Nagasaki resulted in VJ Day.

Ursula returned to Halifax , where she was employed at the drafting depot at HMCS “Peregrine”, working out of the Captain's office. Until Ursula eventually left Halifax and returned to the west coast, I would accompany her to Evensong at the Cathedral, which I enjoyed very much. The order of service, even the canticles, was quite familiar.

During the winter of 1945-6, Vice Admiral G. C. Jones moved to Ottawa and replaced Admiral Percy Nelles. An ambitious man, Jones excelled at staff work but did not have a good reputation as a ship handler – his nickname was “Jetty Jones”, derived from the amount of time ships under his command spent in dock for repairs, following minor collisions. He died “at his desk” during the winter of 1945-6. His funeral was held in Halifax during February 1946 at St. Paul 's Anglican Church. Being a Haligonian, his funeral was the biggest ceremony in peacetime.

I was a member of the funeral firing party, a fifty-man guard. There was also another fifty-man guard, as well as an escort party, mourners and official mourners, etc. The funeral was well attended. This was my first experience in parade and ceremonial functions. We formed up outside of St. Paul 's Church and waited for the funeral service within to end. When the procession moved off, we “slow marched” along Barrington Street, wheeled up Spring Garden Road and led on to the entrance to Camp Hill Cemetery. The funeral firing party leading eventually formed lane, by ranks inclining outward three paces and resuming direction, being halted and turned so that the guard ranks faced each other. We “ordered arms”, then “rested on our arms reversed”. We finished up with the muzzles of our rifles resting on our left boot and the last movement of this drill required that we bow our heads.

Having marched on a cold day and then bowed our heads resulted in our noses collectively producing a running condition, which resulted in an involuntary sniffing reaction. I recall a number of ladies nearby, who were lining the road at the entrance of Camp Hill Cemetery remarking, “The lads are taking it very hard!” The streets were all lined by sailors and WRCNS. Ursula was one of those who represented the WRCNS (WRENS).

During the war, it had been suggested to me that I should consider becoming an officer, obviously a “Ninety-Day Wonder”, but I found my job as a signalman most interesting. However, after the war, I was recommended as a CW candidate (Commissioned by Warrant) and drafted to HMCS “Micmac”, acting Lieutenant-Commander R.L. Hennessy, DSC (later a Vice-Admiral). From “Micmac”, I joined HMCS “Warrior”, Captain F.L. Houghton, CBE, which went via Panama Canal to Victoria . The ship visited Vancouver and I was invited to Ursula's home in Kerrisdale for Christmas. At the Christmas Eve service at St. James' Anglican Church, Vancouver, we became engaged. The rector was Father Cooper, a most wonderful, kindly priest and gentleman.

The Executive Officer of “Warrior” was Commander K.L. Dyer, DSC, later a Vice-Admiral, for whom I coordinated the publishing of his daily orders. Because I had joined the Navy when I was seventeen, my education required enhancement. There was a policy in wartime that students joining the service were generally awarded their year. Although I was a good student, I did not get my year awarded to me. This didn't bother me at the time, but it was to prove a real hurdle later; in fact, I was required to meet university entrance levels. I was allowed, in fact I was encouraged by Commander Dyer and the captain, Commodore De Wolf, to meet the academic standards for officer training as an Upper Yardman. Captain F.L. Houghton, later a Rear Admiral, had been relieved by Commodore De Wolf, later Vice-Admiral, CBE, DSO, DSC and Chief of Naval Staff. I studied very hard, many hours each day and wrote the required exams during transit of the Panama Canal eastbound to the Caribbean during the spring of 1947. I qualified academically and when I left “Warrior” at Portsmouth , England , I was sent ashore in the Commodore's barge, having attended a lunchtime “RPC” in the wardroom in my honour, attended by Commodore De Wolf and Commander Dyer, together with the wardroom officers, who wished me well.

When I completed my Upper Yardman's Course at the Upper Yardman's College at HMS Hawke, Exbury House, at Baron de Rothschild's Estate near Beaulieu Abbey, I was promoted to Sub-lieutenant. My Commanding Officer at HMS “Hawke” during my Upper Yardman's course was Commander Sam Beattie, VC (he won his Victoria Cross as Captain of HMS “Campbelltown” when he took his ship loaded with high explosives and rammed the dock gates in Saint-Nazaire, thereby putting the dock, vital to larger German Capital ships, out of service for years). I then attended the Royal Naval College , Greenwich , for two semesters to complete the Junior Officers' War Course.

At the end of the first semester at Royal Naval College , in 1948, Ursula and I were married at the Royal Naval College Chapel at the Christmas fortnight vacation, using the appropriate service from the BCP. Because Ursula was arriving from Vancouver , I made the wedding arrangements at St. Alphege's Anglican Church, Greenwich . I was invited to a reception at the Captain's residence. When I arrived at the reception, I was asked by the captain's wife to tell her all the wedding arrangement plans. When I mentioned St. Alphege's, she asked, “What's wrong with the Royal Naval College Chapel? It has been good enough for kings and queens down through the years!”

She suggested the rector from St. Alphege's, whom she knew well, could be invited – so the venue was changed. The reception was in the head table area of the Painted Hall. A boys' choir from the Chapel sang during the service. The Royal Naval College staff wore their traditional Beefeaters-type dress. Expecting war rationing still to be in effect in England , Ursula had taken the precaution of having a small wedding cake made in Vancouver . This became the top layer of a splendid RNC three-tier wedding cake (I dwell on this subject not so much out of pride but out of gratitude and to acknowledge the manner of great cooperation and understanding extended by this high-level Royal Navy Institution on such an important and happy occasion).

When we returned from England in 1949, I was an officer in HMCS “Micmac” (Lieutenant Commander F.C. Frewer, RCN, later Commanding Officer of “Bonaventure”). It was the custom that officers joined their ship at 0900 on the day of their appointment, wearing their medals and sword. I had served in “Micmac” during 1946 and was taught seamanship by the Chief Boatswain's mate, Chief Petty Officer First Class Burns, including wire splicing. He was among the finest and most capable Chief Petty Officers in the Navy and I was very happy to be welcomed aboard by him.

From there, I became an officer in HMCS “Crescent” (Lieutenant Commander G.H. Hayes, DSC) in 1950, which had returned from China . From there, I volunteered for service in the Korean War and served in HMCS “Cayuga” (Commander J. Plomer, DSC, later Commodore, OBE, DSC). When HMCS “Cayuga” returned to Victoria mid-1952, I was sent to England to carry out naval gunnery courses, which included two semesters at the Royal Naval College , followed by one year at HMS “Excellent”, Whale Island , Portsmouth .

On 30 May 1939 , King George VI had presented the King's Colour to the RCN in Beacon Hill Park , Victoria . This King George VI Colour, after the accession of Queen Elizabeth II to the throne, was then referred to as the “Queen's Colour” and continued to be used whenever a member of the royal family was involved. For example, on 24 May 1954 , “The Queen's Birthday”, a ceremony called “Showing the Queen's Colour” was carried out in front of the BC Legislative Buildings. It involved four “companies” consisting of three platoons of 30 men each, with platoon commanders, platoon petty officers, company commanders and the HMCS Naden Band. I was the “Colour Officer” and slow marched the Queen's Colour with escort in front of the Royal Guard and Companies. Such occasions were invariably well received by large numbers of the people of Greater Victoria. Showing the Queen's Colour was the only occasion when the colour was “let fly” and shown to the assembled company.

On 2 January 1956 , I was appointed to HMCS “ Ontario ”, Captain D.W. Groos, DSC and was Ontario 's gunnery officer under Captain D.W. Groos, DSC and later by Captain R.P. Welland, DSC and Bar. When I joined “ Ontario ”, her guns had been in a state of preservation for some time. I was asked to report to Rear Admiral H.F. Pullen, OBE, RCN, who was himself a gunnery officer and had been Captain of “ Ontario ”. He asked me, “Well, when are you going to do your first six-inch shoot?” I replied, “As soon as I possibly can!” He said, “You have a big job to do, but you will have my full support”. The raison-d'être for a cruiser is its main armament – its three turrets of triple six-inch guns with full charge are capable of thrusting nine shells with about a ton of armour piercing high-explosive shells over 24,000 yards (13.64 miles).

Early in January 1956, “ Ontario ” sailed on a cruise to the Far East, including visits to San Francisco , Acapulco , Pearl Harbour , the Philippines , and Yokohama , Japan . I realized that it was going to require a considerable amount of training time and that a lot of people would be required for training and to record the six-inch shoot. When I saw the executive officer, then Commander R.J. Pickford, later a Rear Admiral, he said, “I will make you a bargain. When the sun shines, we clean and paint the ship. When it rains, you can do all the gun training you want”. Heading off to Hawaii and the Philippines , my hopes sank. I replied, “That seems fair, but I may have to do a rain dance”. When we left California , it started to rain and it rained every day. After about a week he sent me a memo saying, “Name your required training periods, but call off the rain dance!” The weather, almost as if on signal, turned beautiful. The ship completed its painting program and its six-inch gun-training program.

When HMCS “ Ontario ” returned from our Far East cruise, we carried out a full-calibre shoot off Brotchie Ledge, off the Victoria waterfront. Our broadsides cracked a lot of plaster on the Dallas Road front and stopped the grandfather clock in the Oak Bay council chambers. Naturally, a certain number of complaints were raised. Admiral Pullen met the complaints head-on. He said the navy was here first, but if Victoria complained, he might consider moving the navy to Vancouver . The matter died!

I was told Admiral Pullen observed the firing from the top of the Flag Building in the dockyard while Commander R.W. Murdoch, Captain of the destroyer Sioux, later a Rear Admiral, was present for the firing and made a very complimentary signal, “All hits and straddles”. “ Ontario ” received a lot of congratulatory messages, including one from Flag Officer Pacific Coast , which reflected greatly on her Captain D.W. Groos, DSC. I believed that our gunnery team had performed very well.

After Ontario , I became very much involved in the BC Centennial Searchlight Tattoo. By this time, Commodore Groos was Commodore of the RCN Barracks, Esquimalt and Commanding Officer of HMCS “Naden”. The Flag Officer Pacific Coast was Rear Admiral H.S. Rayner, DSC and Bar. The Chief of Staff to Flag Officer Pacific Coast was Captain E.T.G. Madgwick, DSC and the Assistant Chief of Staff, Flag Officer Pacific Coast , Personnel and Training was Commander D.S. Boyle. When in 1961 I was appointed in command of HMCS “Stettler”, Captain Madgwick was my Squadron Commander initially and he was later relieved by Captain Boyle, who later became the Maritime Commander in Halifax as a Vice-Admiral.

Before Hellyer arrived on the scene, the navy had to contend with Brooke Claxton as Minister of National Defence. Claxton's drive to bring conformity in rank structure among the three services did have an impact on shipboard life. In order to match the army and air force, the RCN was ordered to introduce a number of new ranks. The rank of Commodore, previously non-substantive and usually honorary, assigned to a senior captain when he had command of a small squadron or establishment, became permanent. This much was easy, but the introduction of new ranks on the lower decks introduced chaos. Where before there had been five grades between ordinary seaman and chief petty officer, the navy now had to have seven, with new classes of chief petty officer and petty officer that had no role on board ship. It took some time to get these men posted ashore. At the end of the scale, it also created a new generation of leading seamen virtually overnight. The rapid turnover of personnel and, in 1949, changing rank structures broke down the divisional system by which ships' companies were organized and by which mess deck grievances were dealt. In short, we now had too many “Chiefs” and not enough Indians – “Able Seamen”.

Chiefs and petty officers, the crucial middle management of the service, were shifted around or took early leave from the services. Meanwhile, young leading seamen were pushed higher and faster in rank than their experience warranted. When General Pearkes, VC, PC, CB, DSO, MC, MP, became the Lieutenant-Governor of British Columbia in 1960, I became his first Aide-de-Camp and remained so until quite some time after I was appointed in command of HMCS “Stettler”.

The fiftieth anniversary of the Royal Canadian Navy was scheduled to be celebrated on May 10, 1960 and Admiral H.S. Rayner, DSC and Bar had asked Captain D.W. Groos, DSC to act as Parade Commander.

My duties included Parade Training Officer, which included tutoring Captain Groos in his duties as Parade Commander. He had recently been my captain in the cruiser HMCS Ontario and this was accomplished in a most pleasant and genteel manner. He had a fine bearing and word of command and we were impressed with his “command performance”. He had served twenty-five years in the navy.

In 1957, HRH Princess Mary, sister of the late King George VI and known as the Princess Royal, visited Victoria when a Royal Guard and the Queen's Colour were paraded in her honour. I was the officer who commanded the Royal Guard.

Then in 1958, HRH the Princess Margaret visited Victoria on the occasion of the BC Centennial. She arrived from Vancouver in HMCS “Crescent” at the Black Ball ferry wharf, near the Empress Hotel. We again paraded a Royal Guard and the Queen's Colour. She was positioned on a small dais centred in front of the guard and as I dipped the Queen's Colour in front of her for the Royal Salute when we presented arms, I noted that her gaze followed the Colour where she seemed to dwell on the Royal Cypher and that of King George VI. She was said to be very fond of her father. During her stay in Victoria , she stayed in Government House and was squired by John Turner, the stepson of His Honour the Lieutenant-Governor Ross of British Columbia .

Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth the Second visited Canada in 1959 and presented her Colour, Queen Elizabeth II, in Halifax . The officer commanding the parade on that occasion was Captain W.M. Landymore, OBE, RCN. The Canadian visit included a visit to Victoria , BC .

On 10 May 1960, in the presence of the Honourable George R. Pearkes, VC, PC, CB, DSO, MC, MP; Vice-Admiral Harry De Wolf, CBE, DSO, DSC; Chief of Naval Staff, Rear-Admiral H.S. Rayner, DSC and Bar, FOPC; Commodore H.V.W. Groos, Commodore of the Barracks and CO HMCS Naden and others, the fiftieth anniversary ceremonies were carried out. This involved the retirement of the King's Colour (KG-VI), and the consecration of the new Queen's Colour (QE-II). Captain Groos was an excellent choice for Commander of the Parade. He had a fine military bearing, a clear and distinct word of command and performed in an outstanding manner.

During the consecration of the Queen's Colour, the spectators were invited in the program to join in the singing of the naval hymn. I also had to prepare the program when the question dawned on me, “Who were the congregation joining with in their singing?” The answer was obviously – the parade! So I decided to teach the sailors on parade the words of the Naval Hymn. I had copies made of the first and last verses of the Naval Hymn and distributed them to every member of the parade. Then, the week before the parade accompanied by the navy band, the parade took turns in singing the naval hymn. Two companies and the Old Guard sang one verse, and then the other two companies and the New Guard sang the last verse. The Chief Gunner's Mate of the parade judged who had done best. The winners returned rifles, the losers were required to sing again. The Commander of Naden telephoned me to confirm that he was not losing his mind. He was located almost half a mile distant and he queried me about hearing the naval hymn. By the day of the parade, the parade sang the Naval Hymn beautifully and led the spectators in the traditional Naval Hymn.

That evening the fiftieth anniversary mess dinner was held at Royal Roads Naval College , including as many as possible former Chiefs of Naval Service, Flag Officers–Atlantic Coast and Flag Officers–Pacific Coast . At this mess dinner it was announced that Admiral De Wolf was due to retire and that Admiral Rayner would become Chief of Naval Service (CNS). By way of entertainment, there was a barbershop quartet competition, which was won by the admiral's staff, of which I was a member. Various toasts were made, including the loyal toast and the toast of the day, which was given by the junior officer at the mess dinner, Sub-Lieutenant Pat Crofton of Salt Spring Island . He later became a member of parliament.

He related how then-Rear-Admiral De Wolf, as Flag Officer–Atlantic Coast, was in his office on a Saturday morning. He was dressed in flannels and sports coat and was wearing a “pork-pie” hat. He recognized the ship secured alongside at Number Five Jetty and, as it was nearly noon and the bar would likely be open shortly, decided to drop aboard! The officer of the watch had told the quartermaster to let him know if any officer approached the ship, but Admiral De Wolf was in civilian clothes, called in the navy, “dog robbers”. As Admiral De Wolf was on the gangway, the quartermaster or the bosun's mate, a young French-Canadian sailor challenged him with, “Halt! Who goes dare?” Admiral De Wolf admiringly responded and identified himself with, “I am De Wolf”, to which the response came, “I don't care if you are de tree little pigs, I said halt!” At this moment, the officer of the watch appeared on the scene and invited the admiral aboard, who good-naturedly commended the young sailor for his alertness and attention to duty.

The barbershop quartet was highly competitive but other competitive quartets were not as well crafted as the admiral's quartet. We subtly lampooned Hellyer's prediction of wiping out the navy to the tune, “Poor Judd is Dead” from the musical “ Oklahoma ”. We had rehearsed our quartet and had been coached by the Naden Band's director of music. We also wore black beards and were dressed as undertakers. We also used choreography to demonstrate ‘the bobbing in his hammock' as the pistons in a car engine.

To the tune of “Poor Judd is Dead”.

The Old Navy is Dead He's bobbing in his hammock

Yes, the Old Sailor's Dead In the deep,

in the deep

Second verse, same as the first with different lyrics;

Third verse, same as the first.

Last verse:

No! The Navy is not dead! For the spirit of the Navy

Do not listen to those lies! Never dies! Never dies!

As an encore and finale:

While we say farewell to ‘Arry'* And to ‘Erb' ** we wish success

In our ‘arts he'll ever tarry As CNS, as CNS (Chief of Naval Staff)

* Admiral Harry De Wolf

** Admiral Herbert Rayner

The political fallout of the Cuban Missile Crisis profoundly shaped the history of the Canadian Navy. The crisis itself deepened divisions within the country. By the end of 1962, the Liberal Party and the New Democratic Party were boisterously anti-nuclear and Diefenbaker's minority government was divided. The Tories had bought weapons systems but many in the Cabinet could not bring themselves to buy the warheads. On 3 January 1963 , the recently retired commander of NATO, General Norstad, landed in Ottawa and immediately criticized Canada for failing to meet its NATO commitments. Nine days later, the new leader of the Liberal party, Lester Pearson – in a fit of political opportunism – suddenly declared his party in favour of nuclear weapons. The USA then took the unprecedented step of issuing a press release critical of Diefenbaker's speech and correcting many of the facts. Twice in a month, Americans had called the Canadian Prime Minister a liar. It was insensitive, tactless, and true. The Minister of National Defence, Douglas Harkness, resigned on 3 February and two days later, the government fell.

Business, the press, urban Canada and the Americans lined up against Diefenbaker, while many of his key cabinet ministers refused to run again. The Liberals, now committed to nuclear weapons, promised sweeping changes in everything from a new flag to a new defence policy. Despite all that, the Liberals eked out only a minority government in the 1963 election. The new Minister of National Defence, Paul Hellyer, the Liberal Defence Critic for many years, had his own ideas on how to reform the armed forces. Hellyer's ideas about the reforms needed in the military were formed largely from his own military experience! Struck from the Air Force in late 1944 as surplus air crew in the second lowest rank in the Air Force, LAC, Hellyer joined or transferred to the Canadian Army in the second lowest rank as a Lance Corporal.

Here was a person whose experience in the Air Force and the Army in positions in the most junior ranks was very limited. He nonetheless felt that unification would work well – that sailors, soldiers and airmen were interchangeable.

The only person who achieved such infamy also served as a corporal. I understand that he, too, was quite arrogant. His name was Adolf Hitler.

In the summer of 1966, Admiral Landymore was not the only senior officer deeply upset by the Minister's unification juggernaut, and the impact it was having on both the traditions they cherished and the operational effectiveness of the forces themselves. When a committee of senior officers, struck to report on the viability of unification reported in the early of summer of 1966 that it would not work, Hellyer remained steadfast in his commitment. On 4 July 1966 , it was announced that the Chief of the Defence Staff, Air Chief Marshall Miller, the Vice-Chief, Lieutenant-General R.W. Moncel, the Chief of Personnel, Vice-Admiral Dyer, and the Comptroller-General, Lieutenant-General F. Fleury, would all retire early.

Hellyer then summoned Landymore to a meeting in Ottawa on 12 July 1966 . Landymore raised the matter of naval identity, but Hellyer offered no concessions. Landymore asked that anyone who could not serve under the new arrangements be allowed to resign without penalty. Hellyer asked Landymore for his resignation. When Landymore refused, Hellyer informed him that he would be retired. As Landymore left the Minister's office, he met Rear-Admiral Mickey Sterling, who had come from Esquimalt . He had come to tender his resignation as Flag Officer of Pacific Coast. Landymore went directly to his old navy colleague, David Groos, Chairman of the Parliamentary Defence Committee, and together they visited the Prime Minister's office. When they explained to Pearson that the armed forces were losing their most senior and experienced people to Hellyer's intransigence, Pearson phoned the Minister himself. According to Landymore, after the Prime Minister had finished talking to Hellyer, Pearson said, “I give you my personal assurance that the traditions of the Royal Canadian Navy will not be altered”. Landymore later regretted that he did not get that promise in writing.

In 1966, as Chairman of the Canadian Defence Committee, when David Groos decided to go with Admiral Landymore to see the Prime Minister, there can be no doubt where his sympathies lay. To what extent he may have agreed with Admiral Landymore's assessment of the Prime Minster's honesty and sincerity, I do not know. I have no doubt of his own integrity, nor that of Admiral Landymore. Perhaps because of Landymore's direct appeal to the Prime Minister, Hellyer moved to remove Landymore promptly. He was relieved of command on 16 July 1966 . On the 19 th , he was given a hero's send-off by Maritime Command: the streets of the dockyard were lined with personnel from all three services and civilian dockyard employees, and every ship in the harbour flew “Bravo-Zulu (well done) Landymore” from its signal halyards.

With the sacking of Admiral Landymore, all serious resistance to unification from within the Navy ended. In fact, over the previous two years, the Navy had been effectively decapitated. Admiral Rayner, Admiral Dyer, Admiral Brock, Admiral Landymore, Admiral Fraser-Harris, Admiral Sterling and Admiral Welland all retired early, rather than endure unification. And so, after Landymore, there were no more high-profile retirements and Pearson did not stop unification. The Navy's choice for a replacement on the East Coast was Commodore John Charles “Scruffy” O'Brien, Senior Canadian Office Afloat ( Atlantic ).

O'Brien was a tough, no-nonsense Naval officer and a natural leader, but he had to be persuaded to take the job. Both Landymore and Hennessy called O'Brien and talked at length with him, arguing that he was the tonic the fleet needed. In the end, he relented but not before exacting a few promises from Hellyer and the new Chief of Defence Staff, General J.V. Allard. O'Brien wanted assurances that the Naval programme announced in December 1964 would not be tampered with or delayed, and that no charges would be brought against Admiral Landymore for his open opposition to Hellyer's policies. With that assurance, O'Brien took the job and got down to restoring morale.

On at least two occasions during these final intense months, Hellyer threatened to resign but Pearson came to his defence. Whereas Pearson was Prime Minister, his government was a minority. And Hellyer had a sufficient following to threaten Pearson's minority. As a result, perhaps fearing a Hellyer mutiny, Pearson weakened and upheld Hellyer – and avoided his minority government falling.

It was some time later that Pearson confided to Landymore, “If one more Admiral had resigned, I was going to tell Hellyer to stop unification”. None did, and Pearson failed to protect the traditions that Landymore and many others held dear.

I believed the Prime Minister of Canada was an honest, thoroughly sincere man, Landymore many years later concluded. But he wasn't. Before the end of 1967, Lester Pearson decided to retire. Hellyer decided to run for the leadership but lost the leadership to Trudeau on the fourth ballot. Pierre Trudeau had his own ideas on the future of defence and these, too, would profoundly shape the peacetime navy.

John Anderson, from Vancouver , then a young Lieutenant, RCN and later Chief of the Defence Staff, arrived in Halifax in the summer of 1966 to find it a veritable “hornet's nest”. (He was one of my officers in HMCS “Bonaventure” in 1969-1970).

When in March 1961 I was appointed in command of HMCS “Stettler”, my Squadron Commander was Captain E.T.G. Madgwick, DSC. We took a lively interest in surface gunnery firings and, as a result, my ship ‘Stettler' was awarded the Admiral L.W. Murray Trophy for Gunnery Proficiency. Commander D.S. Boyle, who was Assistant Chief of Staff to Flag Officer Pacific Coast, was promoted to Captain and eventually relieved Captain Madgwick, and thus took over as my Squadron Commander. He later became the Maritime Commander as a Vice-Admiral in Halifax .

When I left Esquimalt in November 1962, I was posted to Halifax , where I was promoted to Commander on 1 January 1963 and became Commander Sea Training for the next two and a half years. As such, I headed up a first-rate team of “Work-Up Trainers”, all officers and chief petty officers selected for their specialized knowledge and proficiency. This involved a lot of pressure on each ship's company with simulated/real tough and emergency team training. I reported to the Maritime Commander through Captain A.L. Collier, DSC, who later became a Vice-Admiral and also Maritime Commander. For example, every man had to demonstrate that he knew his ship “in the dark”. Each ship's company had four weeks of individual, followed by concentrated team training, including fire drills, steering gear breakdowns, man-overboard, etc., all combined, followed by a “pass out” exercise which combined various breakdowns and emergencies. There was then a rehearsal exercise called “Little Puff”. This was followed by a full “Knock-Down, Drag-Out” exercise that included every possible combined exercise called “Mighty Smoke”, which every ship had to complete before being qualified to gain entry to the fleet. It was most gruelling on each ship and extremely tiring on the work-up team. One could see the morale of the ship's company increase as the work-up progressed, never higher than when they completed their work-up.

After 2½ years, I remember receiving a highly classified message, which was confidential, from Admiral Landymore, who was then Maritime Commander, informing me that I would soon be appointed in command of the destroyer “Restigouche”.

In 1965-66, I was appointed Commanding Officer of the HMCS “Restigouche”. The ships from the Pacific Command, based in Esquimalt, came through the Panama Canal and joined up with the Atlantic Command ships in the Caribbean . Then the Joint Fleet under Commodore O'Brien went on a South American cruise, including stops at Brazilian and Argentine ports, including Rio de Janeiro , Montevideo and Buenos Aires . Commodore O'Brian transferred by jackstay from Bonaventure to “Restigouche” for transit of the Rio de la Plata, some 200 miles to Buenos Aires for an eight-day port visit. After we returned from the South American cruise, “Restigouche” took part in the Standing Naval Force Atlantic (STANAVFORLANT). “Restigouche” represented Canada and took part in the NATO Squadron operating out of Belgian, French, Dutch and English ports, including ships from Britain , America and Holland .

I was then appointed Executive Officer and Training Commander at HMCS “Cornwallis” and was responsible for Communication and Bosuns' Trades Training, Petty-Officer and Junior Officer Leadership Training and, particularly, Recruit Training. We had regular Mess Dinners, including one for the Chief of the Defence Staff, General J.V. Allard. We chose Saint Patrick's Day and an Irish theme on which to dine Vice-Admiral and Mrs. J.C. O'Brien. After a hilarious evening, we presented the Admiral at the Mess Dinner with a Royal Doulton figurine called “The Captain”. It looked much like he had posed for it.

From “Cornwallis”, out of the blue I was selected as a student for the US Naval War College at Newport , Rhode Island , for a one-year Senior Staff Course. This course had representatives from several South American countries, including Colombia , Venezuela , Mexico , Brazil , Argentina , Uruguay , England , Australia , Pakistan , Japan , Korea , Turkey , Greece , the Philippines , Indonesia and Thailand . There was no shortage of prominent lecturers, including Kissinger, Rostow, and Minoru Genda, Minister of Defence in the Japanese government. Genda had planned the attack on Pearl Harbor and later was Minister of Japanese Defence. The War College illustrated for us and General Genda the complete battle of Midway. Genda was unaware of USN intelligence at the time of Midway!

The War College course was run in conjunction with the George Washington University , which whetted my appetite for further academic studies. When I left the USN War College in 1969, I was appointed to HMCS “Bonaventure” as Executive Officer.

During this time, “Bonaventure” was fully operational, including their Tracker and helicopter squadrons. The Parliamentary Defence Committee visited the ship during which Bonaventure's operational effectiveness was demonstrated to the complete satisfaction of the Defence Committee. Before they could return to Ottawa and file their report, the decision to pay off the aircraft carrier was announced. When her captain was appointed to a senior staff course, Vice-Admiral O'Brien decided that I should stay on as Commanding Officer of Bonaventure.

Both of our then-relatively new Operational Support Ships, Preserver and Protecteur, suffered engineering casualties and Bonaventure was required to fill in as the replenishment ship for our Canadian and American ships during the spring training exercises in the Caribbean . Later, when the Canadian Army required the services of an Operational Support Ship to return their 200-plus Army Support Vehicles from Narvik , Norway , it was decided that Bonaventure should provide the sealift to Canada .

After Bonaventure, I was appointed as Director, Naval Reserves. This was a complete change of pace for me (expecting that I would not want this posting, I was advised that it was a Captain's position). The promotion to Captain did not occur, however. I was told this was because the forces were “cutting back”. I had sixteen Naval Divisions to administer, from Saint John's , Newfoundland , through St. John , New Brunswick ; Halifax , Quebec City and Montreal , Kingston , Ottawa , Toronto , Windsor , Thunder Bay , Winnipeg , Regina , Calgary , Edmonton , Vancouver and Victoria . Each Division was commanded by a Commander or Captain in the Reserves. They performed their duties at least one day per week and their performance required liaison and administration. I had a small staff, which administered the Naval Reserve budget and their individual budgets and training, especially their sea training on both coasts.

This was the first time I had served ashore where there were universities located within reach. I enquired at Saint Mary's University, which is run by the Jesuits society, whether they allowed evening courses. Besides normal university hours, they ran regular courses, which were scheduled, from 5 p.m. until 9 p.m. In order to complete the requisite number of courses, I had to undertake two classes per week on two different courses, so after my naval day, each Tuesday and Thursday from 5 p.m. until 9 p.m. I undertook university courses. Their only proviso was that I maintain their required standard.

Having completed my Upper Yardman academic training under strenuous conditions, as well as my studies over four semesters at RNC, Greenwich , I found that I was able to cope with my studies with ease. Having worked very hard to cope with my naval studies, and by endeavouring to “not let the side down”, I achieved high grades. In addition, during the usual summer holidays, four months plus, I was able to complete a further two courses. Each summer course involved a five-days-per-week class schedule over two months without a break. By continuing this somewhat hectic pace over three years, I managed to achieve “straight A's” and was one of only two students who finished with “Summa Cum Laude” level graduation.

I have dwelt on my somewhat belated formal academic education. I do so to acknowledge my family's support in this endeavour. My three eldest children attended Dalhousie University and King's College, near where I worked at Maritime Command headquarters. They understood the workings of the Dalhousie Library much better than I. At my request, they would obtain the list of books of required reading that I prepared. Then Ursula, an avid reader, would speed-read and highlight the points she knew I would be interested in. I would read the section that she had highlighted and prepare the requisite paper(s), suitably footnoted. As a result, the marks accorded were most acceptable, for which I must thank Michael, Christopher and Nancy, my library research team and, of course, Ursula. To me, it was very much their assistance. In hockey terms, I was allowed a “goal”; they, particularly Ursula, earned “assists”.

I received a letter from the Director of Graduate Studies congratulating me on my academic achievement and suggesting that I should consider graduate studies. I was encouraged to keep up the good work by the Director of Graduate Studies, Dr. Mary Sun.

I knew it would be difficult, if not impossible, but I applied to Dalhousie University and was accepted by the head of the Political Science Department, Professor Murray Beck, acknowledged as the greatest authority on Joseph Howe, who was a Father of Confederation. I was able to arrange classes twice a week, after completion of my day's naval work, on subjects including Canadian Government and Politics, Strategic Studies, US Foreign Policy. I studied under Professor Beck and other professors and was required to write papers on a myriad of questions on political and government subjects. When I had completed the required number of subject courses, I was then required to write a thesis. I chose as my topic, “National Defence Policy – An Area of Irresponsibility”. I submitted a number of chapters to Professor Beck, who found them quite satisfactory. Then an Associate Professor, who had been granted a one-year sabbatical by the government, returned to the university and he was assigned to act as my thesis advisor. Having returned from a sabbatical granted by the government, he found my approach to be somewhat “polemical”. To make a long story short, my thesis was changed to, “The Logic and Rhetoric of Defence Policy Debates from Confederation to the Present” (an early example of political correctness!). This involved considerable adjustment and “softening” – and subsequent delay. I eventually completed my thesis during my command time in HMCS Preserver and was awarded a Master of Arts degree in Political Science from Dalhousie University during the 1976 convocation. My suspended academic education towards the end of 1941, when I was seventeen, was completed over thirty-five years later!

My next posting was to the position of Queen's Harbourmaster. I was involved in a number of unusual events. One concerned a somewhat old and derelict ship, to which the Canadian government gave free grain for its delivery to a needy country, Bangladesh . This ship endeavoured to flash its boiler and developed a boiler-room fire that got out of the ship's crew's control. The ship called the municipal fire department that arrived and could not control the fire. Because the ship was secured at a non-naval fuelling dock, it was decided to cast the ship off the dock, which proved to be a blunder. This occurred in the very early morning and the ship drifted off the dock and through a dense fog until QHM's office became aware and took charge, using naval berthing tugs. A mooring buoy was laid in a remote part of the harbour and the fire was eventually extinguished.

Another event involved a Sea-King Helicopter exercising with a second Sea-King Helicopter, carrying out dunking sonar exercises, about twenty-odd miles off Chebucto Head. It lost power and gradually lost altitude until it reached the surface of the sea. The crew of four were recovered by the second helicopter, but the recovery helicopter was so preoccupied that a reliable and precise fix of the position was not obtained. QHM was requested to locate and recover the submerged helicopter.

The location of the submerged helicopter was “luckily” obtained by grapnelling in the general area in which the helicopters were exercising, by the navy's diving tender. This position was buoyed and the precise location noted by Decca Radar. By ensuring that the Decca coordinate settings were not altered, we were able to return to the grapnelled position, which was buoyed for good measure.

The RCN submersible SDL1 (Submersible Diver Lockout) was operated from the Dockyard Floating Crane. The SDL1 was quite versatile and managed to connect the lifting line to the helicopter's rotor. The recovery lift was commenced and lifted the helicopter until it had reached a position about fifty feet below the surface. When the lift was recommenced, we found that only the helicopter's rotors remained (the helo had returned to the seabed!).

Our luck held. A second attempt was made and this time, the helicopter was located and photographed in an upside-down position. The rotors had been connected to the airframe with a magnesium ring and the magnesium connection had eroded in the salt water and was in a weakened state, caused by the scending of the helicopter as it was lifted by the nylon lifting line.

The lifting line was ingeniously redelivered to the helicopter by the submersible and by using a “snatch-block” was able to secure it to an aileron on one of the wheels of the inverted helicopter.

In the meantime, and as a precaution, we had a heavy net constructed and when the helo was lifted to approximately fifty feet below the surface, we deployed the constructed net under the helicopter so that, if anything gave way, the helicopter would be in the net.

This entailed a tricky operation, lifting a twenty-ton helo using a nylon lifting hawser, which involved ‘scending' or ‘plunging' by the helicopter as it was lifted from the seabed over 250 feet below the surface, to the deck of the floating crane. Whereas the nylon hawser was strong and provided elasticity – its elasticity added to its tendency to ‘scend' or ‘plunge' throughout the lift.

The operation was, however, successfully carried out and the helo returned to the dockyard for detailed investigation of the cause of the accident.

One of the DEW-line Stations, on the northern coast of Labrador located just south of the entrance to Hudson's Strait, suffered an oil spill located at a place called Saglek (very remote). Another DEW-line Station had borrowed the filling coupling and non-return valve to their large fuel tank from Saglek and had not returned it. When the tanker arrived to “top-up” Saglek with their fuel to last over the winter and beyond, Saglek was lacking the requisite valve. The providing tanker landed the fuelling line, but, incredibly, proper measures were not taken and the fuel tank overflowed and its contents began to spill into the sea. The northern char run had commenced and this problem had to be corrected. The admiral sent me to resolve the problem. Our quickest way to get to the site was to fly, using two Tracker aircraft, which had the capability of landing on an aircraft carrier underway. It was as well that they were naval aviators, because the runway was somewhat elevated by a few degrees, but this was within the capabilities of the pilots. The spilled oil had collected in a natural pool. The pool of oil was lit by flares carried by the aircraft and burnt off, preserving the arctic char run.

The Canadian government decided that Canada would award its own Canadian awards and decorations. The Orders consisted of the Order of Canada and the Order of Military Merit, both at three levels: Companion, Officer and Member. I was awarded the OMM at the Officer Level by the Governor-General at Rideau Hall. The Chief of the Defence Staff was one of the principals at the investiture. He saw me later in the day at his office at National Defence Headquarters. He had reviewed my file in some detail, then phoned the Maritime Commander, Admiral D.S. Boyle and asked the Admiral a very few questions. Could you use another captain? And receiving a positive reply, I assume, he indicated that I was thus promoted to Captain. When I returned to Halifax , Admiral Boyle told me that I was to be the Command Personnel and Training Officer, which I was for two years. Then, when I least expected it, I was appointed Commanding Officer of the Operational Support Ship HMCS Preserver, which I carried out for two years. During my time in Preserver, we supported the Fleet each year in their operational exercises in the Caribbean and the Atlantic . In those days, the Canadian Army had a large contingent in Lahr , West Germany and Preserver delivered their yearly ammunition, a very large load of high explosive ammunition, to Nordenham in Northern Germany . On completion, Preserver again proceeded to Narvik , Norway , and returned over 200 Army transport vehicles to Canada .

In preparing this narrative, I have accepted the factual coverage presented by the author, Mark Milner, who teaches at the University of New Brunswick and who has written extensively on Canadian naval and military history. I do not, however, share his sentiments or approach, particularly where politics and government are concerned. He states that the wartime navy were drawn from the broad range of Canadian society, which was decidedly North American in flavour and temperament. Unruly and ill disciplined by British standards, very much preferred the United States Navy over the Royal Navy. No blasted way! This is patently a wrong conclusion.

3 September 1939 . The US war began over two years later, on 7 December 1941, with the infamous Japanese attack on Pearl Harbour and was against the Japanese until much later. The Canadian Navy had no love for the US Navy.

The RCN at the beginning of the war in 1939 consisted of 1700-odd (in numbers) officers and men, some of whom had received their training from the Royal Navy. It was then the only place where they could obtain professional training. By the end of the war in 1945, the navy had reached almost 100,000 personnel.

While it may be true to say that “knitting together this relatively small pre-war, if Royal Navy flavoured professional ‘RCN' with a large intake of wartime veterans and young recruits who had not done their training with the Royal Navy and who could be termed ‘unprofessional' was a difficult task … “ but to continue the statement that, “… the tension between the two elements of the service did not disappear until the Old Guard was crushed by the unification of the Armed Forces in the 1960's…” is ridiculous and illustrates the approach taken by the author in relating his skewed version of naval affairs.

As shown on the cover of his book, in the RCN the new Maple-Leaf flag replaced the White Ensign, which had flown from the stern of Canadian warships since 1910. For the RCN, it was a time of truly mixed feelings. “If there was a sense of loss, and for most there was, there was at the same time a sense of pride in a trust well discharged. (Flying the colours of the greatest navy the world has ever known through peace and war) and a new obligation happily undertaken”.

(Nowhere is this slant indicated more clearly than in the cover of his book. Here we have displayed the dull, greyish, uncoloured, white ensign. In fact, the combined flags of England, Scotland and Ireland forming the upper canton of the flag of St. George, a truly Christian flag, being displaced by our red, politically motivated, maple leaf flag.)

David Groos does not need me to vouch for his good name. He commanded the respect of all who knew him as a fine and highly capable officer and gentleman. It has, however, given me great pleasure to relate some of the points where our service combined, if only in a small way. I have served in a goodly number of ships, both East coast and West coast and in ships of the Royal Navy, as well. My service was always “at the sharp end” or “the coal face”, which made my service life interesting and challenging. When I was Gunnery Officer of the Cruiser “ Ontario ”, my Explosive Accounting Officer was Lieutenant Nigel Brodeur, later a Vice-Admiral. When I was Commanding Officer of “Preserver”, my Deck Officer was Lieutenant-Commander Tim Porter, later a Rear-Admiral and my Operations Officer was Lieutenant Ron Buck, later a Vice-Admiral. In Bonaventure, my Navigation Officer was Lieutenant Charles Westropp, later a Commodore, while my Operations Officer was Lieutenant-Commander John Anderson, who later became our first and only full Admiral as Chief of Defence Staff.

I have had the honour to command four of our ships, Stettler, Restigouche, Bonaventure and Preserver. We were happy ships, and we thought we were also efficient! I feel proud to have been associated with all the fine officers, Chiefs, Petty Officers and men who struggled valiantly and gallantly to build, operate, and maintain the Navy in which I had the honour to serve.

APPENDIX “A”

(Added as part of Parishioner Profile – Hank Vondette for St. Timothy's Gazette, February, 2006.)

My career in the Navy ran from 1941 through 1978, 37 years from Ordinary Seaman to Signalman to Yeoman of Signals throughout the Second World War. Then as a CW candidate, recommendations from captains of ships in which I served, Upper Yardman's training in England; officers training in technical courses at Royal Naval College; officers watch-keeping duties in ships of the Royal Navy and Royal Canadian Navy; HMCS “Cayuga” during the Korean war; officer's training over two years at the Royal Naval College, followed by one year at HMS Excellent for Naval Gunnery Specialist training at Whale Island, Hants. I then did further duty at Watch keeping in RCN destroyers, plus command of four ships on West and East coasts; two and one half years as Commander Sea Training plus involvement in considerable parade and ceremonial occasions, including the Princess Royal, Princess Margaret and Her Majesty, the Fiftieth Anniversary of the RCN which included the consecration of the Queen's Colour.

My service was always operational, at the so-called “sharp end” with the finest and best officers of our navy, from whom I tried to learn. Often with a government that opposed the thinking of its naval leaders whose best interest was its defence, a subject on which Canada does not have to hang its head, but who, nonetheless, depended on England for many years and, more recently, the USA; in fact, freeloading on its defence policy, while trumpeting our sovereignty.

My early life was very much church-oriented and involved in Christian teachings; certainly such was the case with Ursula. I met Ursula during the war and enjoyed going with her to Evensong at the Halifax Cathedral. We were engaged in Ursula's parish church at the Christmas Eve service in 1946, married at the Royal Naval College Chapel almost two years later.

We have always enthusiastically supported our church from St. George, the Martyr, Cadboro Bay (choir, vestry, synod); St. Peter's, Birch Cove, Halifax (choir, vestry); All Saints' Bedford (choir, vestry, warden for three years); Immanuel, New Port, Rhode Island; at Cornwallis and in England.

When we arrived in West Vancouver , the rector at St. Stephen's called on us and invited us to attend. I was invited to be a Sidesman and was later asked to take on the job of Chairman of Sidesmen, which I did for a number of years. I decided to resign from Sidesmen when, during our short visit to the UK a motion by the rector resulted in Sidesmen becoming “ushers”. We stayed on for a number of years, but the dominant use of the B.A.S., the hypocrisy of the same-sex so-called dialogue, which was nothing short of a diocese-controlled monologue, a high-handed attitude from the diocese and some of the follower acquiescent clergy, and an increasingly head-in-the-sand parish, have caused us to move on. We are more than happy that we did.