After my mother died, I decided to make a project of organizing her brother’s war letters, putting them together into a book, “Love to All, Norm: A Canadian Soldier’s Letters Home From the Second World War.”
The letters were mostly written when he and his regiment, the Algonquins, were training in the United Kingdom, and contain stories about life in England, “Limey beer,” and how a young Canadian man felt camping out on the grounds of an English estate. But as deployment approached, the mood in his letters changes – though he always keeps his humour – and for Mother’s Day, 1944, he sent his parents an extraordinary note. It is almost as though he sensed he would not come home – which he did not, dying in August 1944, in France.
Norman Christopherson was a law student who could have stayed in school, but he decided to volunteer, to the worry and pride of his parents. His brother, my uncle Wilfred, also volunteered and survived the war. This letter, dated May 7, 1944, is one of the longest he sent home. I give you the last paragraph: “As for the war, I might as well say a few words on that, too. I couldn’t very well stay out of the army – I had to help somehow. If people are being bullied by someone, any decent person would take a hand trying to stop him. And joining the army means taking the risks involved, so though I’m afraid at times, I pray I’ll be brave enough to do my share. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t come back, and I probably will so there’s nothing to worry about. I’m glad I’m in the army where I feel I should be at this time. I thank God you were my parents. Your son, Norm.”
