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IN THIS ISSUE

• Les Davison continues his account of his war experiences
• Matthew Swanston resumes his appeal for more support
• Jean Sterling comments on Matthew's first instalment
• Geoff Goodship rides the buses in Toronto
• Elana has already chosen her candidate for US President
• Burke Dykes admires the resourcefulness of seniors
• Here is a persuasive argument for military insurance
• Don Henderson suggests an interesting garden site

Les Davison resumes his story of the great parachute drop over Holland in his

WARTIME MEMORIES

Our stick landed without incident and we were soon grouped with the rest of Battalion H.Q. on a heath known as Wolfheze. Apparently we were not expected, as there was no firing of weapons and the whole thing seemed like another of the many training operations in which we had been involved in England. Even the terrain was similar, which only added to the illusion. It took some time for the whole battalion to drop, and as we were one of the early arrivals, we had the unforgettable experience of watching waves and waves of planes disgorging the passengers and the whole sky seemed to be filled with parachutes.

Finally the whole battalion was lined up ready for the march to the Arnhem bridge and still there was no opposition. We had about eight miles to go and it was now three p.m. (four p.m. Dutch time) and the plan was to be at the bridge before dark. We moved off in the direction of the town of Oosterbeek, which is about three miles from the bridge, and it was on the outskirts that we first came under fire. The Germans were finally reacting to the invasion and were organising their forces to stop our advance. The result was that we did not get any further than the centre of Oosterbeek that Sunday and settled in for the night in a rather large house, which was still occupied by a local doctor and his wife.

The company commander was trying to find out what was happening but our radios were not operating for some unknown reason, so he asked the doctor if the phones were still working. On being assured that they were, he then asked if there was anyone the doctor might know who lived near the bridge that we could telephone. Our host dialled a number and, after some conversation in Dutch, told us that the second battalion had reached the bridge and were holding the north end. However, they were encountering very strong opposition and the enemy were entrenched at the south end and in pillboxes in the centre.

Early Monday morning the battalion moved out down the main road to Arnhem. Opposition was minimal at first but as we approached the outskirts of the city, we came under increasing fire and took to the houses for cover. The occupants were still in residence in most cases and were trapped; it would be suicide to venture outside. As we advanced slowly down the Utrechtseweg, the fighting got heavier and casualties were mounting. We established regimental aid posts in the houses as we moved along and left one or two medics in each one. The plan was to move the wounded into the St. Elisabeth Hospital after the situation stabilized. This was situated about a quarter of a mile ahead and was being used by the 16th Para. Field Ambulance as its main base of operations.

Unfortunately the situation was so fluid that control of the hospital changed hands frequently and we never knew for sure who was in charge at any given time. Battalion H.Q. got to within 150 yards of the hospital and that was as close as we ever did get to the bridge. It was now late Monday evening and we were in danger of being surrounded by the enemy and cut off from the rest of the battalion.

Just prior to this we had been visited by General Urquhart and his aide, who had resorted to this method of communication as none of the divisions' radios were working. The powers that be decided that H.Q. would retreat, temporarily, but as we had 17 wounded in the basement of the house someone had to look after them.

Our sergeant medic said, 'We need a volunteer to stay behind and look after the wounded and that's you, Davison!' Not having much choice in the matter, I resigned myself to the fact that I would probably be a prisoner of war in the very near future. I was left with a good supply of morphine ampoules, sulphanilamide powder and bandages and, of course, we each had our compo rations. We certainly weren't going to starve, although the compo rations were not very palatable. Oddly enough, I did not feel hungry. There were hard-boiled candies in the rations and constantly sucking on these seemed to alleviate any hunger pains.

There was a constant battle going on outside which didn't subside until dark, and even then there was intermittent firing of small arms and the odd mortar bomb would explode in our immediate vicinity.

The wounded kept pretty quiet, wrapped up in their own thoughts as to their fate, and I kept them well sedated with morphine. It was my intention to try to get them to the St. Elisabeth Hospital as soon as conditions were favourable, but about two a.m. on the Tuesday morning I heard army boots right outside our cellar window. I should explain that the cellar abutted right onto the sidewalk and had a window below ground in a window well which had an iron grate at sidewalk level. I could see outside to some extent but could only look upwards. After hearing quite a number of boots clattering across the grating, I looked up and discovered that they belonged to soldiers in field grey uniforms, obviously not our lot. I whispered to the wounded who were awake to keep very quiet as there were Germans outside, and after about 15 minutes they had left and things became very quiet.

However, just after dawn I saw boots running past our window again. Two soldiers stopped right on the grating and I cautiously looked up to see that they were dressed in khaki. I shouted to them, which gave them a bit of a fright, asking who they were. They replied 'South Staffs.' This meant that they were troops of the glider-borne South Staffordshire Regiment who had dropped in the second lift of the operation on Monday. My spirits rose immediately as I figured we were now getting the upper hand. I informed my patients of the developments and this raised a quiet cheer. Obviously they were thinking that maybe they wouldn't be going to Germany after all.

This hope proved to be short-lived. About 10 a.m. on the Tuesday morning there were khaki-clad soldiers outside our cellar again, but unfortunately they were going the wrong way. I called up and said, 'Who are you?' The reply was again 'South Staffs.' It was obvious they had made an attack in the small hours and had been beaten back as soon as daylight arrived. I decided that my strategy was to remain put until the situation stabilized, one way or the other. There was no point in trying to get these patients to the hospital, considering the racket that was going on outside, and most of them were reasonably comfortable. I kept the three most seriously wounded under constant sedation and they slept most of the time. These conditions lasted until about two p.m., when everything turned quiet. I figured it was worth a recconaisance outside to see what the situation was.

To be continued.

Matthew Swanston, who holds two Canadian swimming records in his age group, continues his argument in favour of more

SUPPORT FOR AMATEUR SPORT

Why is it that other countries perform so much better than us at the international level, not only in swimming, but any other sports as well? The truth is that our athletes do not receive enough support, financially or spiritually. I will begin with the financial aspects.

First are the facilities. Sydney, Australia, has a comparable population to Toronto. Sydney has around 48-50 Olympic-size 50-meter swimming pools; Toronto has two.

In order to produce great athletes, the country must have great resources. That is something that Canada lacks. The towns and cities in this country are much too concerned about ice pads and hockey rinks to give any consideration to pools, or gyms, or track fields. How can the country blame summer Olympic athletes for not performing as well as intended when they don't give them any resources?

Here in Canada, hockey comes first on the priority list for resources. There are a great number of kids involved in hockey programs, even here in Newmarket. That is all fine and great, except the town pays little or no attention to the efforts put in by athletes in other sports fields. The town is turning a blind eye to the fact that here in Newmarket we are producing potential world-class swimmers.

My friend and I traveled to Victoria, B.C., a few weeks ago to compete in the Senior National Swimming Championships. That means that we were racing men who were mostly between the ages of 18-24, many of whom were six and half feet tall. This competition also included past and present Olympians. Despite these facts, we both placed in the top eight for our best events, beating people from across the country. In fact, the time I did to come seventh in the 200 backstroke is actually one of the fastest times in the world for my age.

Yet when we returned home and scanned through the Era Banner, there was no mention of our accomplishments. I suppose a top eight finish at nationals is not worthy of mention, while I could plainly see in the newspaper that "Timbit A" team beat "Timbit B" team.

I know from personal experience that it is tough being an elite athlete when your country doesn't appear to support you.

Getting back to the point, even though there are high performance athletes coming from Newmarket, the town is doing nothing to help. If I were living in Australia, I would without a doubt be training in a facility containing two 50-meter pools, with a set of stands that could hold thousands of spectators. Here in Newmarket, I train in the Ray Twinney Complex where we can hardly get enough pool time to keep fit. Time allotted for swimming lessons is more important than time allotted for my team. Not only does the town not care, but it seems they want to impede our progress.

Two years ago, we were opting for a 50-meter pool to be built here in Newmarket. I myself and a great number of swimmers from my team attended a large number of town council meetings to support our cause. We asked questions, gave input, and showed we really cared about what we were fighting for. However, the town councilors still came up with some crazy idea that more swimming lessons and other activities could be done in a 25-meter pool than in a 50-meter pool. Let's think about this logically for a second. 50 meters is double 25 meters. Therefore, there would be double the pool time. Apparently common sense isn't very common for leaders in politics. So we lost the fight and instead the town decided to put in more ice pads. What a joy.

Not only do the towns not support our athletes, but the universities do not either. Canadian university coaches work hard with a small budget to try to make it the best experience possible for those swimmers who choose to attend a Canadian university. However, a great number of future top swimmers in Canada still head off to the U.S. after they graduate from high school. Why? Well, it is very obvious. The attraction of a full scholarship at a university in the States, as well as competing in the NCAA, is enough to do it. While many want to stay loyal to Canada and represent their home country on the world stage, it is tough not to move. Coaches from American universities have budgets that allow them to ship swimmers down south for recruiting trips (as well as potentially offering them full scholarships). This means that usually Canadian swimmers are made offers that they can't refuse. Sometimes coaches will even show up at your front door with incredible offers that are nearly impossible to pass up.

I shouldn't say that Canada doesn't try, however. There are limited offers such as minor scholarships and carding money, but that doesn't even come close to comparing with receiving a full paid scholarship to an American university.

Quite often, swimmers are not given enough financial support here in Canada to reach their full potential, or even to motivate them enough to succeed. An example of a country supporting their athletes is Singapore. Li Tao, a 16-year-old from Singapore, was given $250,000 for winning the Asian games in swimming. A quarter of a million dollars, and she is only 16! This really shows the amount of support that is needed for our athletes if we want to try and compete against the best in the world.

To be concluded.

CORRESPONDENCE

Jean Sterling, an enthusiastic swimmer, comments on Matthew's plea for more support for amateur sports:

o About the only time swimmers in the States get their due is every four years. The University of Florida won the NCAA basketball championship last week, which was a great achievement, and news of their feat and their welcoming party and their prospects with the NBA was splashed all over the media. Ryan Lochte is a swimmer who swam for University of Florida and graduated last year. He is a native Floridian who grew up in Daytona Beach. Ryan recently set a world record in the 200-meter world championship where he beat the Olympic champ who hadn't been defeated in more than four years. Ryan got a small mention on page three of the sports section.

o I would like to see swimming get more press as it is a sport that can be done by all ages. People with arthritis who find running or walking difficult can still get their exercise in the pool.

o When my kids were in school they learned how to square dance and how to play flag football in physical education classes. There was no provision for teaching these Florida kids how to swim. My kids learned because we had the wherewithal to provide for swim lessons, but getting swim instruction for some people is extremely difficult, if not impossible. Sometimes knowing how to swim can be the difference between life and death.

o I wish Matthew the best of luck. In addition to being a good swimmer, he is an excellent writer.

Geoff Goodship and his wife, Freddie, will be visiting Toronto shortly. He wrote this observation after their last visit to that city:

IMPRESSIONS OF THE TORONTO TRANSIT SYSTEM

Us country and small town folk from the West must try to keep our cool when mingling with the inhabitants of Canada's largest city. While passing through Toronto recently, Freddie and I gained new impressions of Urbana. Now that we are safely back at home on the range we've come to the conclusion that THERE REALLY ARE ALIENS AMONG US.

We're not what you would call Trekies, even though we probably watched an episode or two of the Star Wars series. This has convinced us that some of those bus and light-rail travelers must have originated outside the solar system. Clothes with a dozen chains and zippers; metal rings through eyebrows, nostrils, lips and navels; orange and green hair in vertical spikes - styles that must have been conceived somewhere beyond the orbit of Pluto. One fellow with purple hair with a spiked collar was dragging so much chain he had difficultly getting aboard.

Some carry on animated, silent conversations with other unseen persons, complete with gestures. Perhaps they are radio controlled, or maybe they are just holograms. I'm sure many of them originate outside the realm of the nine planets.

Freddie and I have yet to meet a truly hostile transit rider, although folks like us who live on the outer reaches of Canadiana have to work at keeping our fright meter in check.

ED. NOTE: The "outer reaches" refers to Campbell River on Vancouver Island.

Elana has already chosen her candidate for President of the US in 2008:

Here we are already discussing the future President of the United States in the Year 2008. Well, I have my own candidate and I'm sure that once you know who I'm voting for, you will also agree. It is probably time we have a woman as President My choice, and I hope yours as well, is a very special lady who has all the answers to our problems:

MAXINE FOR PRESIDENT!

Maxine on "Driver Safety" - "I can't use the cell phone in the car. I have to keep my hands free for making gestures."

Maxine on "Housework" - "I do my housework in the nude. It gives me an incentive to clean the mirrors as quickly as possible."

Maxine on "Lawn Care" - "The key to a nice-looking lawn is a good mower. I recommend one who is muscular and shirtless."

Maxine on "The Perfect Man" - "All I'm looking for is a guy who'll do what I want, when I want, for as long as I want, and then go away. Or wait nearby, like a Dust Buster, charged up and ready when needed."

Maxine on "Technology Revolution" - "My idea of rebooting is kicking somebody in the butt twice."

Maxine on "Aging" - "Take every birthday with a grain of salt. This works much better if the salt accompanies a Margarita."

Burke Dykes thinks we should not underestimate the ingenuity of

OLD PEOPLE

A farmer stopped by the local mechanic shop to have his truck fixed. They couldn't do it while he waited, so he said he didn't live far and would just walk home.

On the way home he stopped at the hardware store and bought a bucket and a gallon of paint. He then stopped by the feed store and picked up a couple of chickens and a goose. However, struggling outside the store he now had a problem - how to carry his entire purchases home.

While he was scratching his head he was approached by a little old lady who told him she was lost. She asked, "Can you tell me how to get to 1603 Mockingbird Lane?"

The farmer said, "Well, as a matter of fact, my farm is very close to that house. I would walk you there but I can't carry this lot."

The old lady suggested, "Why don't you put the can of paint in the bucket. Carry the bucket in one hand, put a chicken under each arm and carry the goose in your other hand?"

"Why, thank you very much," he said, and proceeded to walk the old girl home.

On the way he said, "Let's take my short cut and go down this alley. We'll be there in no time."

The little old lady looked him over cautiously then said, "I am a lonely widow without a husband to defend me. How do I know that when we get in the alley you won't hold me up against the wall, pull up my skirt, and have your way with me?"

The farmer said, "Holy smokes, lady! I'm carrying a bucket, a gallon of paint, two chickens, and a goose. How in the world could I possibly hold you up against the wall and do that?"

The old lady replied, "Set the goose down, cover him with the bucket, put the paint on top of the bucket, and I'll hold the chickens."

MILITARY LIFE INSURANCE

Airman Jones was assigned to the induction center, where he advised new recruits about their government benefits, especially their GI insurance.

It wasn't long before Captain Smith noticed that Airman Jones was having a staggeringly high success rate, selling insurance to nearly 100% of the recruits he advised.

Rather than ask about this, the Captain stood in the back of the room and listened to Jones' sales pitch.

Jones explained the basics of the GI Insurance to the new recruits, and then said: "If you have GI Insurance and go into battle and are killed, the government has to pay $200,000 to your beneficiaries. If you don't have GI insurance, and you go into battle and get killed, the government only has to pay a maximum of $6000.

Now," he concluded, "which group do you think they are going to send into battle first?"

INTERESTING WEBSITES

Don Henderson suggests this site for frustrated gardeners. Just click on the screen, or click and drag: http://www.procreo.jp/labo/flower_garden.swf

"It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it." - Aristotle