An uneventful wartime trip aboard a French luxury liner with terrible food

A couple of years ago, I wrote a column recounting how a number of our military veterans spent their first Christmas overseas, either during the Second World War or the Korean Conflict.

This year, I would like to relate to you how one Canadian soldier spent his first Christmas on his way overseas, aboard a former French luxury liner, converted into one of the most famous troop ships of its time. The Louis Pasteur.

My dad, Jean-Paul Hebert, recently celebrated the 90th anniversary of his birthday, so I thought it was time to get some of his stories down and add it the the thousands of stories which hopefully will be documented out of sheer respect for what members of the military had to go through.

Dad was born in Montreal in 1919, the year the Paris Peace Conference got underway as allied nations attempted to punish Germany for the losses accumulated during the First World War. He spent the early part of his life aboard the salvage barge Londonderry, where his father, Lodias, was ship's master as well as a salvage master. His mother, Maria, served as cook aboard the vessel, while raising four children at the time.

When he received his "call to the colours" in 1941, he was a stoker/mechanic aboard the canal boat, Redwood, one of four vessels commonly known at the time as "the Red Barges," which also included the Redcloud, Redfern and Redriver. The vessel had just delivered a load of salt headed for Canadian Industries Limited (CIL), and was then sailing into the Cornwall drydock to be put up for the upcoming winter.

He had called home to confirm he had received his notification and was soon headed to Sherbrooke, PQ for his first pre-enlistment assessment. By May of 1942 in Farnham, PQ, he was fully enlisted with the rank of Private in Le Regiment St. Hyacinthe and reached the rank of Sergeant by August of 1943. The same year he married my mother, Monica Boucher.

The military training at the time required qualification in several areas, from motorcycle rider, various teaching methods as well as proficiency in the weapons of the time which included the Lee-Enfield rifle, Bren gun, Sten gun, PIAT (portable infantry anti-tank), various types of grenades and the legendary Thompson submachine gun.

The regiment was called up for overseas transport in late November of 1944, so they boarded the train to Liverpool, Nova Scotia. They spent most of their time in platoon drills before being shipped to Halifax to board the Pasteur.

Upon seeing the Pasteur, he was quite impressed by its size and was expecting to be quite comfortable for the seven day Atlantic crossing. But that's where the dream ended."Once on board, we were shown to a cargo hold which had been supplied with hammocks" he recalled. "You also had your choice of sleeping on a table or right on the floor."

There was a bit of irony at the moment as dad had received a letter from his mother, telling him that his father was in Halifax Harbour doing some salvage work. He hadn't seen his father for over two years, but he could not get permission to leave the ship, seeing as they were under orders. "It was a pretty sad day. I can remember going out on deck and I could hear the familiar sound of the steam-powered crane and I knew that dad was there. But what can you do?"

The HMTS Pasteur (His Majesty's Troop Ship) had been seized in Canada following the fall of France. It's maiden voyage to Canada was to transport 213 tons of gold bullion from the French gold reserves and stored in Montreal.

It was one of few troop transports that did not have to be escorted and protected from German submarine wolfpacks. With an estimated 60,000 shaft horsepower, driving quad-screws (propellers), she could easily cruise along at 25 knots, more than double the speed of the fastest U-Boat on surface.

So just before midnight, Dec. 24, 1944, the Pasteur let loose her mooring lines and set sail for the North Atlantic and eventually to Liverpool, England.

For their Christmas meal the 5,000 plus troops on board were served a meal most wanted to forget, and none could stomach. "They gave us a can of mutton floating in oil and some kind of vegetables. It was terrible," remembers the former sergeant. But this was only a sample of the other disgusting items they were served. "Other meals were corned beef and cabbage and that was so bad, even the seagulls wouldn't eat it when thrown over the side."

Unfortunately, the ship's galley was run by British cooks, so the poor Canadians were stuck with their type of food. Including bangers and mashed.

Apparently there was a bit of animosity among the Canadian troops, as the British, still very much treating them like "colonials." They insisted the Canadians do all the dirty KP duties and that started to ferment into a confrontation. "We all had a quiet discussion and things got back to normal and we all shared duties."

The Atlantic crossing was relatively smooth, considering that ocean can turn real mean quite quickly. On board, the soldiers exercised and drilled as part of their daily routine. Although one day, the routine was broken as the speedy troop ship passed a huge convoy, complete with a screen of destroyers and corvettes. "Everybody on deck immediately went over to the starboard side and the shift in weight caused the ship to list," noted the former sergeant. "Right away you heard the loudspeaker come on and we were ordered away from the rail."

After waiting for the tide, the ship docked in Liverpool on December 31 and as the troops were descending the gangway, the steam whistles were blowing, welcoming the new year of 1945. Just five months before Victory in Europe or V.E. Day.

Most of the troops were shipped by train to Wheatley and eventually to Belfast, Ireland. "It wasn't much of a New Year's celebration," he remembers. "We were basically in cattle cars with no heat, lights, water or latrines. But we did get a sandwich with maybe Spam in it. Who knows what they fed us?"

The balance of dad's duties overseas dealt mainly with training Belgian and Polish troops. Being bilingual, it was a bonus when dealing with the Belgians.

He was rotated home aboard the troop ship Cynthia in late 1945, when his final duties had him trained in military police matters in Belfast.

Returning to Cornwall, he spent 19 months at the Howard Smith Paper Mill and eventually went back to sailing.

He spent 38 years sailing the Great Lakes, mostly as chief engineer. He then served on various ships with the Canadian Coast Guard, most notably the cable repair ship CCG John Cabot, on which he crossed the Arctic Circle in 1968.

His last duty was onboard the search and rescue cutter CCG Spume, in the Georgian Bay area.

On the overall, I'm kind of glad dad didn't have to see combat. Because, chances are, I may not be here to relate his story. Something children of all veterans should take upon themselves to document. Their devotion to duty, regardless, is one to be treasured and never forgotten.