A Welcomed Opportunity

by J. Murphy ('45)

     Fifty-seven years ago, I was a student in grade XIII at Runnymede Collegiate. It was 1945, and only one month ago I had my eighteenth birthday. I knew that it would not be long before I received my call-up papers to join the armed forces.

     Although I was eager to get into the war, I particularly wanted to finish successfully my thirteenth year at school, for I believed it would be my last. In those days, all students had to write the final exams that were set by university professors. Most students hated the idea of writing these exams, for if they failed to get the pass mark they would not graduate.

     One day a notice on the bulletin board outside the principals' office seemed to be drawing a crowd. It was an offer from the government of Ontario to grant any grade XIII student a pass standing if he would agree to work on a farm for thirteen weeks during the summer holidays.

     As I approached the crowd, I could hear some remarks, such as, "They've got to be kidding." "Not on your life would I give up the holidays." I'm no farmer. I realized that these students weren't thinking how the harvest could be gathered in, with so many workers away in the armed forces. The government was offering the students of grade XIII an opportunity to help the war effort and they would be rewarded by not having to write the final examinations. I thought it was a wonderful opportunity and went straight into the office for an application form.

     My parents were willing to give their permission when they read in a footnote of the application form that the government planned to set up farm camps, which were to be operated by YMCA personnel who were 4F for the armed forces.

     With this hurdle completed my next move was to get my teachers to give me a pass mark and to sign the form. I was taking eleven subjects but, of course, I only needed nine. I stared by going to the teachers I knew had given me a pass mark on the recent report card. Although most of the pass marks were rather low, I was encouraged when I received the ninth signature. I then approached my German teacher, Miss Hildred.      She asked what I planned to do in the autumn. I replied that I would be looking for a job. She said, "You know, Jack, you do not have a pass mark in German lit or comp., but you are a good lad and I would like to help the war effort."

With these words, she signed the paper- and I was off to the farm.

A Weather Delay

     Soon after sending my completed application to the Department of Agriculture, I received a letter explaining that the opening of the farm camps would be delayed due to poor weather conditions. The letter also suggested that local farm work could be founded by volunteering at the local pick- up areas. Mine seemed to be the streetcar loop at Jane & Bloor streets.

     Every morning I was up early to catch the Jane bus at St. Clair and Runnymede, which would carry me to the designated pick-up area: There I found farmers waiting to hire help for the day. These farmers were really marked gardeners, who had a small area for growing market garden crops. Much of the land in the area known as Etobicoke was owned by these market gardeners. They grew crops of beans, peas, lettuce, radishes, cabbage, and turnips.

     When we arrived by truck at the market garden, we spent the day weeding or hoeing what seemed to be endless rows of whatever was being grown. We worked through the coolness of the morning and through the heat of the day B stopping only to consume our packed lunches at about 12 o'clock. Finally at about 5:00 PM we were paid off at ten cents an hour and driven back to Jane and Bloor.
     I decided I would only do this work for five days each week, and that I would get the market garden owner to sign a paper stating when and for how long I had worked for him.

The Farm Camp

     I was longing for the start of the farm camp because I believed I would be with other students my own age, rather than any farm worker who was willing to work for only ten cents an hour. When the letter came with the instructions for the trip to the farm camp, I had already worked for three weeks of the thirteen I had promised to complete.

     It was now the middle of June, and I was on my way to a farm camp in Harrow, Ontario. We travelled to this village near Windsor by train and bus.

     The camp was in the grand-stand at the Fair Grounds. Joe, the YMCA custodian had it all ready for us when we arrived. There were double bunk beds in the largest room. We were told to choose a bunk, upper or lower, and to stow our bags below the lower bunk.

Paul, a young man, my age, whom I had met on the train chose a lower bunk near a window and I chose the upper bunk. We thought being near the edge of the room might be a better location than near the centre in case of flying objects or pillows.

     It turned out though, that because of our long arduous days in the field, we did not have the energy for high-jinx or pillow fights.

     Our days stared at 4:30 when we were called to get up and be ready to leave by 5:30. We needed to wash, dress, and have our breakfast. The food was set out by Joe who had arranged a bag lunch for us also.

     At 5:30 several trucks came roaring into the Fair Ground to park near the grand stand. As we trooped out, the truck drivers came over and selected the men they required. The boys were divided among the drivers and instructed to board the trucks.

     We were in the fields by six every morning doing whatever was required. Sometimes it was weeding or hoeing and occasionally it was loading wagons with hay, but whatever was required of us went on until lunch time at noon. Then we would always seek out a shady spot to enjoy the food and drink that Joe had provided in our lunch bags. After eating we had some time to rest, for after the hour was up we would be back at our tasks until five o'clock. When work stopped at five, we boarded the trucks for our return trip to camp. We had given our ten hours and earned a whole dollar, with at least half of this going to Joe for our keep.

     The first work day at Harrow established the routine we would have to follow for six days of every week, while we were there. The seventh day was given over to rest and recreation. This was the day that we could wash our clothes and to explore near the camp. Most of us however, were content to spend the day sleeping.

     The farms in the area near Harrow had fertile soil that was workable. A few had a unique quality that disturbed some of our crew. We noticed that when the soil was disturbed when weeds were pulled out that there was an unpleasant odour wafting through the air. The smell on these farms was so offensive to some of us that we connived to be chosen for any farm but the smelly ones. Paul, our scientist, said the unpleasant smell was caused by sulphur deposits in the ground.

The Beach Camp

     After six weeks at Harrow, we were told that we would be moving on to another camp near a town call Blenheim. The following Saturday was chosen for the move. We would have two days off work in order to get used to our new camp. We were all very excited as we boarded the bus for the trip to the new camp near Blenheim.

     When we arrived in the town, we continued south in the direction of Lake Erie. Soon we saw ahead a low building that was situated on the beach. This was the new camp.

We couldn't have been more delighted for we realized we could cool off by swimming in the lake. That week-end proved to be the best one of the whole summer. We swam, we played in the sand and we swam some more. Some of us even used the rowboats that were tied to the dock. The routine here was the same as we were used to following B up at 4:30 B etc., etc. We found, however that some of the work was different. There was weeding and hoeing, but there also was working on some machinery. Here there were machines that were used to dig potatoes from the ground. Men and boys standing on the sides of these machines, as the machines were pulled along by a tractor, would pick off anything from the moving belt except potatoes. The potatoes dropped into a sack at the end of the belt.

     One had to keep one's wits about one, when working on the sides of these diggers. If we were to complete our thirteen weeks we could not afford to have an accident. Concentration was very important. In the heat of the day the work became very tiring. Much more so than idly picking weeks. We kept going each day, longing for the five o'clock finishing time. The heat was very severe, but the thoughts we all had of the lake in the front of the camp kept us all going.

When it was finally five o'clock we boarded the trucks for our trip back to the camp. On the way, we took our shoes and socks, and tying the shoe laces together hung the shoes around our necks. When we finally arrived we could not wait to get into the water. Pell-mell (yah-hoo) we raced, dropping our shoes, shirts, pants, hats and even underpants to get into the cooling water. And there we soaked our aching muscles until we heard the gong that would call us to dinner. While we were at the Blenheim camp, time seemed to pass very quickly. It was September. Several of our groups were upset, for they had not completed thirteen weeks work but they had to report for the beginning of university. They took their problem to Joe, who said that he had the authority to give them credit for the missing time, if he felt their attitude warranted it. They of course got their time. I was in a better position since I had the papers giving me extra time from the market gardeners.

     We celebrated with a special dinner on the last night of the camp. The next day, after we had said our goodbyes to Joe and thanked him for his generosity toward us, we boarded a bus for Blenheim. When we arrived there, we said more goodbyes for we were all going in different directions. Paul and I travelled together to Toronto where we would both receive our Honour High School sometime in October.