Paul Tomelin

My name is Paul Tomelin. I was born in Canora, Saskatchewan on September 28th, 1925. I grew up initially in a small town called Queenstown [Alberta], then we moved to Arrowwood [Alberta] where I spent most of my time and that’s when the Second World War began, while I was in Arrowwood. And while going to school there, I had a friend of mine a couple years older than me had joined the air force and he was killed, a pilot and he was killed. And I more or less was inspired to join the services and later on, when I became 18 -and-a-half, I was in Calgary and I was eligible to become a member of the Canadian Forces, so I wanted to contribute to the defence of democracy but not wanting to kill anybody. So I applied with the Canadian Army to become a member of the medical corps and was told that there were no vacancies in the medical corps. But there were lots of vacancies in the infantry and since everybody had to go through the basic training of the infantry, why not join the infantry and apply to become a stretcher bearer once you got overseas. Which is what eventually happened. I invariably ended up in the upper bunk and this is the thing that sticks out in my mind throughout my early training was that I invariably ended up in the upper bunk and even back in basic training and advanced training, we had these huge wood or coal stoves to heat the barrack block. And sleeping in the upper bunk, there was a pallor of smoke from the people who smoked. And I slept in that smoke and I strangely enough, more recently, I had an x-ray and my doctor at that time asked me when did you quit smoking. I said, I never quit, I never smoked. So I can only assume that whatever was in my lungs had indicated I had smoked must have been breathing that smoke that I slept in. I mean, that’s all I could assume. Around Christmas or around New Year’s, I was on leave in London and I recall bombs that were sent over, V bombs. You could hear the things coming over and then all of a sudden, they would stop buzzing and all of a sudden, there would be silence and then there would be a big explosion where it landed. And I could recall those when I was outside hearing those. And also, I can recall the fighters, planes attacking the bombers that flew over London. Of course, we couldn’t see them, they were too far up. But you could sure hear them. A Salvation Army service officer presented me with a 1945 pocket calendar, on the back of which was a verse. It influenced the rest of my life and has to be shared. Titled Builders [A Bag of Tools] by Author Unknown [R.L. Sharpe], it reads: Isn’t it strange that princes and kings and clowns that caper in sawdust rings. And common folk, like you and me, are builders for eternity. To each is given a safest mass, a bag of tools and a book of rules. And each must make ere life is flown, a stumbling block or a stepping stone/ Life is a mirror, a king and a slave. It is what we are and do. So give to the world the best that you have and the best will come back to you [Madeline Bridges].