On November 11 in Canada, Remembrance Day, we commemorate those who made the ultimate sacrifice for their country in the line of duty. Remembrance Day also celebrates and supports veterans of combat. To understand more, please visit Remembrance Day Facts.
I’m fortunate to receive WWI and WWII mementos from my grandmother and mother. The following is a nonfiction story about war postcards sent “From the Front”, but I added a twist of fiction from a young girl’s perspective. I’ve also included pictures (taken by me) of the cards and hankies received by my grandmother and mother, and the letters written by their fathers.
This story was shared on Facebook before and on my website blog, but I’d like it to give it a new home here for those subscribers who haven’t read it yet.
Somewhere in France – Postcards Home
A little girl under the age of five, dressed in a knit jumper, sits on a stool beside a frosty living room window. Swinging her legs, she waits in anticipation for the letter carrier. She is my Grandmother, Mary Jane, nicknamed Queenie, and her Daddy went off to war. Edgar Kelly enlisted in the Canadian Army Service Corps (C.A.S.C.) in Winnipeg, Manitoba on February 12, 1915 and served in the 3rd Canadian Divisional Train, C.A.S.C. February 12 is also Queenie’s birthday and if it weren’t for the postal carrier delivering ‘Post Cards from The Front’, how would little Queenie know Daddy is safe and thinking of her on her special day?
The 3rd Canadian Division arrived in France by January 1916. The C.A.S.C provided supply services, transportation and a support element to the many Canadian Divisional Train troops who found their way to The Front (France) between 1915 and 1920. Promoted to Staff Sergeant Major 1st Class Warrant Officer on December 14, 1916, Kelly served in the 10th Canadian Field Ambulance Division from March 3rd, 1917, until he was discharged by reason of Demobilization on April 1st, 1919.
From 1914 to 1918, post cards were sent throughout the world and had worldwide popularity. Families and soldiers avidly sent and collected these small non-descript notes from home and cherished them with love. Canadian soldiers waited over three weeks to a month for news from home, as the mail was processed through England first. During the First World War, news always came from soldiers who were ‘from’ the front, but never who were ‘at’ the front. No matter how the mail made it from soldier to family, any news, even a signature or small love message, buoyed feelings of well-being and safety.
There’s a sharp tap-tap-tap on the door. Queenie pulls it open and giggles shyly at Miss Colleen, the postwoman, eyeing the thick letter package in her hand. Miss Colleen took over her brother’s job of delivering the mail after he joined the forces and went off to war, Queenie knows, as that’s what Mammie told the ladies after church last week. Sneaking her hand up, she reaches for the letter and snatches it out of the post woman’s hand.
One of the most popular souvenirs of WW1, first produced in 1907, were silk postcards. With so many soldiers arriving at the front, postcards gained much popularity in 1915. As part of a cottage industry, mostly made by women, it’s estimated that up to ten million cards were produced during the war. Silk mesh strips were used to hand embroider various designs, repeated up to twenty-five times on a strip. The embroidered art pieces were then sent to a factory. They were mounted and glued onto embossed-bordered cards, made into postcards and greeting cards.
The backs were printed with, ‘Fabrication Française’, or ‘Carte Postale’, with space for a message and address. Some were blank on the back. Often the cards were inserted into a protective sleeve or envelope and sent along back home with a letter.
“Mary Jane! Mind your manners,” Mammie nods at Miss Colleen and eases the door shut. She holds out her hand and Queenie drops the letter into it, staring at the floor. “Let’s open it and see what’s in here.”
Queenie holds her breath, mouth tight, as Mammie slips her thumb into the letter and edges it along the fold, opening the end. As she turns it over, out falls a postcard. Queenie gasps, bending over to pick it up, but Mammie is too quick and snatches it up first. She gives it a quick glance front and back. A huge smile lights up her face, taking away the traces of tiredness that linger there. “I believe this is for you,” she says with a wink.
Civilian’s seeking out a living, generally bought the postcards from the factories and made sure they made it into soldier’s hands in the battle field. Costing as much as three times the daily pay of an average soldier, a single card was not inexpensive, but they had the appropriate sentiments someone would want to send to a loved one back home. There were the usual Birthday Greetings, Miss You, Thinking of You, and Friendship messages. A mounted fabric pocket could hold a small sentiment card, or one with a festive greeting. Soldiers also purchased silk hankies to insert into the pocket of the card. These often had their regimental badge embroidered across it, or the flags of the country they were in. A “From the Front” message with a festive holly and flags of both Britain and France were usually stitched on them too.
Queenie takes time to settle into a small child-size rocker, the card pressed against her chest. Mammie slips the thick envelope into her apron pocket and kneels down in front of her.
“There’s no alphabet on the back,” Queenie whispers.
“There’s words on the front though,” Mammie turns the card over. “See, it says Happy Birthday.”
The little girl’s fingers dance across the blue embroidered words, and the pretty pink flowers. Under the letters is a flap of silk that Queenie lifts up and sees a tiny card inside. She pulls it out, shrugs her shoulders, and pushes the card into Mammie’s hand.
“It’s stamped, see that? It says, ‘TO MY DEAR GIRLIE’,” Mammie points to the alphabet letters. “Look! Daddy wrote your name, ‘Queenie’.” Mammie hands her the tiny card.
With the best gentle care a little girl can muster, Queenie slips the little message card from Daddy back into the silk pocket, but only after she gives it a little kiss, right where Daddy wrote her name.
Mail processing was a huge part of the war. By 1917, twenty-five tons of outbound mail to the Armed Forces was being sorted every day. Up to twelve million letters and newspapers were delivered each week to two thirds of the troops in France. These amounts would double at Christmas time, and didn’t include all the parcels that also flowed through the system.
Included in the deliveries were three kinds of postcards. There were the official ‘field postcards’, which were inexpensive, and had a commercial picture on the front. In this category were the embroidered keepsake cards, which were pricier. Mass produced ‘military issue’ postcards were free and convenient. ‘Illustrated postcards’ were great for all tastes and occasions with their varied designs. It was the hand-embroidered cards though, which were most popular with the British and Canadian troops and eventually the US troops in 1918.
Postcards were perfect because sentiments could be written quickly when a soldier’s time was limited. Security force members could monitor the messages, ensuring no warfare intelligence was leaked, or came into the hands of the enemy.
Queenie celebrated five birthdays when Daddy was overseas, eventually outgrowing her child rocker while waiting patiently for Miss Colleen, whose brother never did come home to assume his postal carrier duties. Queenie’s most favourite embroidered postcard with pretty lilac ribbon stitches, said, “Not absent in thoughts” and also had a flap with a tiny card hidden inside stamped with the words “Forget me not”. It wasn’t the front of this card that she loved so much. It was the message on the back, handwritten in black ink, by a man’s scrawl which read:
July 14/18 France
Darling and how do you like going to school my little girl must be getting big now do you think Daddy will know you when I come home again and are you looking after Mammie till I come back and have a good time and enjoy yourself down at the beach Lots of love and kisses Daddy xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Queenie treasures this postcard, and the few more she receives from Daddy. In 1940, World War II postcards and love letters begin arriving from her husband, William (Bill) Gagnon. She saves all the letters and silk handkerchiefs from overseas, along with the postcards in a tartan pouch which has her husband’s regimental insignia on the front.
Growing into a beautiful, strong, young woman, Mary Jane sits at her desk waiting for the arrival of the postal carrier. She plants a small kiss against each loving signature on the small stack of cards received from both Daddy and Bill, praying with hope to add yet another embroidered postcard and hankie to her growing collection.
Queenie watches Mary Anne, her young daughter, (this author’s Mom), and smiles with fondness. Long ringlets tied up in ribbons circle her freckled face as she peers out of the window and down the street, feet dangling against a tall stool waiting on her fourth birthday for any news from Daddy who went off to war.
Author’s Note:
The photo’s above are a sampling of what I received and shall treasure. I hope you enjoyed this story and appreciate a share if you like.
On November 11 - Remember those who fought so fiercely for our freedom.