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The Late Freda M.P. Fisher

This story is submitted by Nancy Willison of the District Office in North Bay. Shortly before her mother passed away, she wrote of her experiences during the Second World War overseas. Nancy shares her mother's story with us.

"While serving in the CWAC (Canadian Women's Army Corps) during World War II, I was posted to Farnborough, England. We were billeted in an old army garrison called Grant Square. There were 20 of us to be working at the field post office. As I was the only one who knew the English money, I was put in the Registration room. We sold stamps, money orders and registered mail. Our main object was to keep the mail moving to the units. After a few weeks there, we started to hear and see tanks and military vehicles 24 hours of the day, so we knew that D-Day was close. One tank got stuck outside our barracks; it made a big hole. Some of us were asked to volunteer to go to London, but we knew the V2 rockets were going there, so half of us declined. Later on, the rest of us were sent to France at Deliverande. We went across the English Channel on a landing craft, and we were living in tents in an apple orchard. Many a time we fell into a slit trench in the dark, as we worked from 11:00 p.m. to 7:00 a.m. We only stayed there a short time, then moved on to Antwerp in Belgium. We were told that we would be living at the Queen's Hotel. That sounded great until we found out the beds had no mattresses, so we slept on the floor. We were right near the Schelte River and at night we could see the gunfire and shelling. We were attached to the Postal Tracing Section, 2nd Echelon. Our job was to redirect mail to the troops. The addresses mostly came from Daily Orders. Little did we know that just a few weeks after we got there, the Germans started to send the V2 bombs there. The building we worked in had no heat so we wrapped mail bags around our legs to keep warm. When the bombing got real bad, we were moved to a small place just outside Brussells, called Loth. We lived in a wooden Nissan hut, the post office was in a sawmill. Our living quarters were not finished, but we were happy that we had moved, as our old building was bombed the next day. We have to be lucky to live in a country like CANADA, and hope we never have to see things like that again. You can overlook the tough times and remember the good ones and the good friends we made. Some have gone to higher ground. God Bless Them. They will never be forgotten..."

The Late Freda M.P. Fisher.
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