Standing from the Torchland in Sprucewoods, the first vision was a glance across the open prairie northwest of Shilo. The Friday night air was hot and dry with memories of childhood blowing through the air as though yesterday was now. The Nile mosquitoes were non-existent as dragonfly vertols circled under the sun. Sprucewoods Hall filled with movers and shakers in the early Friday evening. Beer and Canada Dry floated through centurion hands tipping sideways in accordance to signals and gaits. Unique faces peered through the millennia searching for recognition. The lino floor, the one-man band and the entire structure succumbed to the demise of hundreds. Hourly entrances and exits mixed with spirit water heated up the interior on the already hot August eve. Traveling toward the South gate of the 'boot' camp for a brief excursion, the first 'unarmed' and gentlemanly soldier kept his guard and photogenic sight on approaching entourage. The first north turn would be Royal Avenue, traveling east by missing the turn would land visitors in the restricted zones. Old World War II cannons were painted dark khaki green still glistening in the setting sun near the Canex. PMQ's stood half-vacant awaiting the arrival of the Winnipeg Princess Patricia troops. Roadway signs carried welcome home messages addressed to the Canadian peacekeepers returning from Afghanistan. The 2002 sixties reunion had become a special welcoming for children and grandchildren of World War I, World War II, Korea, Vietnam et al within Canadian Forces Base Shilo, of the Canadian Department of National Defense, Canada. Remembrance echoed through every mile, every building and every tree, picturesque documentations of traditional and historic laws.

The following Saturday morning began at Krang's, inside the Shilo Inn. The front entrance and an eastward glance indicated 'The Gates' of the military camp, now barricaded with cement blocks in lieu of September 11. Royal Avenue appears farther away without the notorious pig farm, finally dismantled.

The Shilo Inn sits on the old McCabe horse ranch, the trodden hay-ride trails barely visible inside the forest pine. After early morning showers, the Green became the next rendezvous with half-bedraggled golfers and beer-carts, fish tales of hole-in-one; 'The beer's a winner' whispered the west-coast tree planter on his premier drive. Soldiers, code-keepers and historians gathered outside the country club on unmarked wood picnic tables waiting for the last rusty golf carts with the last rusty golfers. To the wizened eye, sunlit shadows formed of horse and riders from pre-Shilo Saulteaux days. Otherwise there wasn't a sound on that beautiful sunny morning in the sun.

Dinner and Dance behind the Canex began at the 1630 with buffet served by more of the gentlemen inhabitants of the camp. Rocking to the sixties, seventies and eighties, the ageless dancers moved to the twist, shake, two-step and waltz. The women wore semi-formal dresses, slacks, shorts, mini-skirts or blue-jeans. The men wore jeans, pants, slacks, sweatshirts or denims. Lifestyles were from farming to professional, business, government, armed forces and aboriginal. Traveling was by jet, rental cars and those brave enough to travel on their own steam from the West Coast, Maritimes or the United States by automobile. The army brats fared well in civilian life having survived marijuana, city life and the solitary military childhood. The starry night sky removed all inhibition as groups attended after hour haunts reminiscing still on the good old days. Those were the carefree days of trips to Waggle Springs, Seul Lake, hiking across dry prairie with the sun beating down, dragging one foot in front of the other under the heat. Teenage playtime was smoking out behind Princess Elizabeth School seemingly away from parental control. Prom nights were especially memorable staying out all night, trying to stay sober and the next day finding out who ended up with who and what may have been worse, knowing who you ended up with.

On Sunday in Shilo, the malt shop was closed down; the high school, now a community center lay still, white and silent in the heat; old spirits still roaming the hallways, laughter still audible inside the walls, running shoes squeaking on the gymnasium floor and the sound of the lockers and bells.

One more afternoon to go at the barbecue, some of the visitors were beginning the journey home while an aroma of roast pork on the grill claimed the air. It was good to shake hands, smile and laugh with the innocence of youth, although perhaps all were not innocent in the usual sense but in the wizened sense, the melancholic, romantic, wistful and melodramatic sense. It was a perfect reunion, first saying hello then see you later, hasta la vista and ariva derchi. Cameras flashed for the last time, the last handshake, the last bear-hug. The dry earth moved in swirls of dust, ankle high. At the 'time of leaving', Grandfather Sun winked and motioned to silhouettes of standing sentinels on guard forever over Shilo, diehard witnesses to the fading cheers.

 

And now my account....

 

 

Well, another Reunion has come and gone. This was the fourth one and was a roaring success but sadly (in Otter's opinion) far too short. The 60's group had the strongest presence out of the approximately 400 guests in attendance. The weather was on the cool side but still very nice with only a short shower on Saturday morning.

I left Edmonton with Murray Booth on Thursday. We did an overnighter in Regina as neither of us wanted to arrive so bagged from the drive we wouldn't be able to enjoy ourselves. This turned out to be a wise decision as neither of got to bed much before 2:00-am the entire time we were there. By the time we crested the hill after the valley just West of Brandon my heart was already doing flip flops and it didn't stop for pretty much the whole weekend. I had forgotten how huge the sky was in Manitoba.

We pulled into Sprucewoods around 1:30 in the afternoon, checked in to the Torchland Motel and headed to the Meet and Greet at the community hall. There were not many people yet, so after a few hugs with the people we knew that were there we decided to tour the camp and then make our way over to Mike Pineau's place as both Murray and Mike had been thick as thieves in Shilo. Mike and his lovely fiancee were the consummate hosts. After 3 hours of laughing so hard I nearly peed myself we all packed up and returned to the community hall which was pretty full by now. The inside of the hall is only about 30' X 100', but it took over an hour to get to the back of the hall and out to the beer garden because of all the hugs and handshakes. This went on all night as new arrivals trickled in. Some had not changed much and it was easy to recognize them right away. Others looked so different it was difficult to see the person we knew back then. Thank god for name tags! At one point I decided to take my jacket back to the motel room and as I reached Shilo Road the smell of fresh sage hit me strong in the night air. To this day the smell of sage always reminds me of Shilo. Around midnight the crowd started to thin. At 1:30 we reluctantly called it quits even though both of us were so hyped we weren't sleepy.

On Saturday morning there was a steady stream of us through Krang's for the breakfast smorg. You can still count on the quality of the food there. It hasn't changed in 35 years. It was the only restaurant I ever heard of that you could call from any range phone, place an order, and have lukewarm processed eviscerated cardboard delivered to your bivouac area by grid reference. The golfers were the first in. Hot coffee and a bit of protein and out. There was a fine drizzle for the first hour of the event, but the participants toughed it out and were rewarded when the sun broke through and warmed things up nicely. I was watching as they slowly trickled in off the course. Murray had "golfing" on his retirement to do list, but decided after 18 holes and three miles of hiking he would strike that off the list…especially since he lost three of Mike Pineau's golf-balls in water hazards. Others spent the time visiting friends either in Shilo or Brandon or doing a tour of the surrounding countryside.

By 7:00 pm the dinner and dance at L25 (the old theater and cadet training hall behind the Canex) was well under way. Having been fed half a cow earlier in the afternoon (I wasn't aware they cut sirloins that thick Mike!) I never did have the dinner. There was a bit of a shadow over the event as we learned that Jim Gradwell's sister Lorraine had passed away that afternoon. This was a bit of a shock to me as I had been in contact with Lorraine only the week before and she had just come back from camping and sounded in rare form and was looking forward to the reunion. Our deepest sympathies go out to Jim on his loss. The anxiously awaited appearance of Miss Sheehan was not to occur either, but in spite of these setbacks we still managed to have fun.

In the same manner as the Meet and Greet, it took forever to get across the floor. You had to stop at every second table and share a bit of conversation with old friends. Some people had to leave early to catch flights back and I was getting a preview of some of the tears I would see the following day when the majority departed. The committee managed to find a gem of a musician who was a very good one man band. It's amazing what you can do with computer technology now. To all of those who had never met me before, I would like to express my sincere appreciation that you took the time to seek me out and compliment me on the web site. I'm beginning to truly understand how important it has become to so many now. Once again the crowds began to thin appreciably at midnight. By 2:00 am the last hanger-on's stumbled home.

The following morning we opted to eat at the All Ranks Mess as we had been told it was good, inexpensive fare and that everyone else was going there around ten. The breakfast was very good and the $3.00 price tag even better, but evidently we were either on Alberta or BC time or something because no one else showed up. Since you couldn't smoke in the Mess we decided to take a more extensive tour of the camp. This was a real eye opener. Almost 50% of the PMQ's are vacant. Streets that would have been full of people in our day were vacant. Several houses had apparently suffered fires and were now derelict and boarded up. At the end of Quebec Street about ten or fifteen houses simply aren't there any more. Only a portion of the driveway marks the fact that there was ever anything there to begin with and we found lots of other "holes" like that too.

We knew about the water towers and the jump tower, but the old fire hall and fire chief's residence was gone. The building that housed the bank and post office still stands but is vacant. The Canex has been radically altered. The Q Lines are in the process of being destroyed and hauled away. Only one Jr. Ranks Quarters building still stands. The others have been torn down and replaced with more modern structures. Several other new housing structures have also been erected in that area. Although there are several new, ultramodern buildings in camp such as the new RCEME building, Shilo is now nearly a ghost town. Rasunah Marsden drove out to Rivers just to see her old home there. There is no evidence that Rivers ever existed other than remnants of roads and driveways. All that stands there now is a farmer's home. The military is in very serious decline.

We ended the tour with the RCA Museum which has been considerably expanded and is certainly worth the visit. They have far more vehicles and equipment in storage than are on display, but they lack both space and funds to restore and display them in. By this time it was 2:00 pm and the BBQ was in progress so everyone headed over there. Quite a crowd was already there and the smell of roast pig had me drooling all over the car before I could even open the door. The first order of business was food. To be honest with you, if you are what you eat then Otter is no longer an Otter….I'm either potato salad or a pig and I'm not sure I like being either. I don't think I'm all that little now either and it will take a few weeks to work the extra weight off.

It was a perfect day being neither too warm or too cold. This was our last chance to circulate and say our goodbyes, so although it was a wonderful BBQ it was also quite sad too. I'm a pretty emotional little Otter so it was a good thing I could hide behind very dark sunglasses. Will we ever see each other again? The remainder of the day was spent with the rest of the die-hards at the now famous #4 Citadel Street…..AKA "Pineau's Classy Eatery and House of Naughty Bits"…. and once again closed down around 2:00 am. The only remaining excitement was when we got back to the motel room. The days of late nights were catching up to me. I nodded off and Murray went out to the vehicle for something forgetting the room key. Not even a bomb under my bed could wake me at that point. At least Murray now knows how comfortable his vehicle is to sleep in.

 

There is nothing left now but the remnants of our carousing and some very good memories. The memories are yours to keep, but I'd be willing to bet Jim et al is out there today and cleaning up all evidence of carousing as I type this. We all owe him and the rest of the staff….Pat, Mike, Ken, Zoe, Faith and others I probably never even met a huge debt of gratitude. Without their planning and efforts none of this would have happened. Without compensation or thought of reward they labored to make this happen for the rest of us. That alone earns them a place in our hearts. Jim is a different case. He is as much a part of the history of Shilo as are the very unique rocks and soil of Shilo. He was born there and will probably die there. In spite of his own personal difficulties he was there to make sure that we all carried good memories home. I hope that one day I will return there and find a Gradwell Street.

For the fourth time Jim says "Never again!" as far as reunions are concerned. I hope this is not so, but you need to think about this. It is time for the grads of the 70's and 80's to realize that we need to back up what Jim has already started. In the next few years some of us will return to the Goddess. Will you allow such a special thing as the reunions to die? Time to take up the torch and carry it for us all.