Gwyneth Crompton – Memories of My Mother
by Judy Crompton
Gwyneth Price married LAC 2 Wyndham Crompton of the Royal Canadian Air Force on October 6, 1945 in Beckenham, Kent, England. Wyndham was demobilized in January of 1946 and returned to St. Catharines to continue running the Red and White Grocery store that he owned with his sister, Lou. Gwyneth followed the love of her life a few months later, landing in Halifax on July 1, 1946. On the advice of British officials, she was wearing a lovely, warm woolen suit to protect her from the Canadian cold.
Thus began my mother’s life as an English War Bride in Canada. She lived in St. Catharines until her death in 1992, but in all that time, when she talked about “home”, she meant England. On the other hand, she was a proud Canadian and when Canada’s flag officially changed in 1965, Mum was the first person on our block to fly the Maple Leaf.
Mum’s London accent was quite pronounced when she first came to Canada and had a significant influence on my brother, Gordon, and me. We grew up saying words like “lawd” for lard, “tomarto” for tomato, and “carki” for khaki. Even today, I find some of her quaint English sayings popping up now and then in my own speech — things like “I haven’t seen him in donkey’s years” or “five-and-twenty after two”. Mum’s accent mellowed over the years and when she went home to visit her brother in 1974, he referred to her accent as “mid-Atlantic”.
Finding a place to live was difficult in the years following the Second World War. My parents lived in three apartments before finally purchasing our family home on York St in the early fifties. Even more difficult for my mother, however, was learning to live without the family and friends that she had left in England. She kept up a constant correspondence with her mother and other family members and she exchanged letters with her childhood friends right until the end of her life. The correspondence was a tremendous emotional support as she made the transition to life in a very different country. Mum also talked constantly about her extended family and even though I never met most of them, I always felt a connection to them.
Mum always said that she was very grateful for the kindness she received upon coming to Canada. From my father’s family and from neighbours, friends, and even strangers, she found a warm welcome and hands extended in help and friendship. Still, there were times when even this kindness could not fill the void, for example, in the passing of her Dad and then her Mum. She was not able to be there for them and it left an ache of loneliness and regret for years afterward.
Luckily for my mother, she made contact with a wonderful group of women in similar circumstances. In 1946, she joined a local chapter of an association called the U.S. and Canada War Brides and Parents Association. Here, she met women experiencing the same challenges of transition from war-time England to peace-time Canada, and the same feelings of homesickness and loneliness. They offered one another the comfort of a shared background and culture, and created a strong and lasting network of support.
At the beginning, Mum’s War Brides group had about twenty members in a formal organization. They met once a month, had an executive, and minutes were taken and duly read. Dues were paid and put aside to provide for a Christmas party. Through the years, some members dropped out or moved away, but a core of ten women stayed together until the ends of their lives. They were “the girls”: Gwyn, Doris, Peggy, Millie, Joyce, Edna, Mavis, Irene, Linda, and Margaret. My mother was the first to die in 1992 and all of the War Brides were at her funeral. It gave my brother and me a tremendous feeling of warmth and support.
The monthly War Brides meeting was held at the home of a different member each month. I remember sitting on the stairs listening to the proceedings and it seemed to me that everyone was talking at once. There were frequently stories from the War years, usually funny, but occasionally providing glimpses into the fear, drudgery, scarcity, and yes, the horror of war.
The War Brides reached out to one another’s families, as well. Mum told me that during fifties, when England was still on rationing, the War Brides would put together a parcel for one member’s mother, sending to a different mother each month. When a War Bride was returning home for a visit, there was always a going-away party with little gifts for the children. While the War Bride and her children were in England, the husband would be invited to dinner at the homes of other members.
In addition to the monthly meetings, there were many social visits among smaller groups of members. My brother says that he doesn’t remember a time without War Brides. A week rarely went by without a visit of some sort, cups of tea and little sandwiches. Important events and occasions were celebrated with house parties attended by the War Brides and their husbands, with others included, among whom were Mum’s Irish Warbride friends, Pat and Kathleen. These were happy occasions when the rug was rolled up for dancing and the evening invariably ended with everyone in a circle, arms linked, singing all the old songs — Maybe it’s because I’m a Londoner … Doin’ the Lambeth walk … There’ll be bluebirds over the white cliffs of Dover … Knees up Mother Brown …
I am very proud of my mother. She and her friends set an example for their children of courage, determination, and making the most of what life offers. They were intent on being a part of Canada, but never lost their roots in England. They were, indeed, a remarkable group of women.