REMEMBRANCE

My maternal grandmother, Ellen Jarwick Francis, in her one-time war bride’s passport photo. She left North Shields in England via Liverpool on 17 March 1946 and sailed on the _SS Scythia_, a former luxury liner made over for troop transport during the war, and arrived in Halifax, Nova Scotia, 26 March. Then she and the other brides bound for ‘New Foundland’ caught smaller vessels and looped back. Nan’s little railway ship, the _Burgeo_, arrived in St John’s on the 28th. The St John’s newspapers at the time indicate that the men here were furious that the Scythia would not dock in St John’s en route to Halifax, as originally promised. I’m not sure why the _Scythia_ bypassed St John’s — fear of icebergs, perhaps.

The brides did get here, of course, met by various circumstances and often a surprise or two.

My Nan was sick when she travelled: pneumonia. She really wasn’t fit for such a voyage, but if she did not leave with the brides, then God knows when she might have been able to cross, and then at her n expense. With stern doctor’s orders to take naps, and noticeably underweight, she made the journey to be with my grandfather.

North Shields is on the northeast coast of England and had shipyards and a Royal Navy station — a prime target for the Luftwaffe, which did their damnedest to bomb the region off the map from 1941-43. Nan survived several air raids and also did war work. Then she faced a grinding and difficult existence in Newfoundland. I expect she had doubts; many war brides did. Yet she built a home and a family, and she was a huge part of her grandchildren’s lives, too.

So no, she didn’t serve in an armed force — but she *did* fight. And she was, in a Geordie phrase that’s often a high compliment, tough as old boots.

And she was far from alone.

Fierce respect and love for ya, Nan.