Description
Mr. Robertson recalls having nightmares upon his return home.
William “Bill” Robertson
Mr. William “Bill” Robertson was born June 13, 1921 in Toronto, Ontario. He was raised in a family of five with three brothers and one sister. Growing up in the province of Ontario, Mr. Robertson received his grade 12 education and with the awareness of war, had a keen desire to join the Air Force. In 1942, he attended observer training and in April of that year received his wings. He held the rank of navigator with the RAF 158 Squadron. On May 13, 1944 during a routine flight towards Belgium, his aircraft was shot down and he and the surviving members of the crew spent many months in hiding from the Germans in the hopes of one day being free. As freedom became a reality, Mr. Robertson returned home to Canada with his wife Violet. He and his family reside in Belleville, Ontario.
Transcript
During all of this, the four and a half months there, it was like sitting on a powder keg. You never know when the rap would come on the door and the sound of military boots or that. You were always ... I will give you a little example, maybe this will answer better. I told you, I think before the interview that I lived on Bloor Street, right across from Honest Ed’s. We lived in an apartment building up over the grocery store, Jack’s grocery store, it’s not there now, of course. And, there was a hallway that went upstairs and then a little flat that you went to the right to our apartment or to the left to the apartment over the other store, a dress shop. Then, there was more stairs going up to the top floors, same thing with the two apartments up there. Well, in those days, they would deliver milk and this is just after I came back from overseas, they would deliver milk to the door. You’d put your empty milk, glass milk bottles out and he would put the full milk bottle, replace it with the full milk bottle. Well, they started very early in the morning, like 4 or 5 a.m. or something. I hadn’t been home from overseas too long. And what must have happened, he dropped one of the milk bottles and there was a tile floor just inside the doorway as he stepped in and it smashed. I heard this sound and I jumped out of bed and I was dressed. I was heading down the hallway in our apartment, heading out the back door and my father caught me and said, (excuse me, I’m emotional), he said to me, “It’s okay son, you’re home.”