The Beleaguered. Lynne Golding

Were the McKechnies in that much need of your society?”

      “The McKechnies were fine,” Ina assured her. “We spoke about the war for a bit. They really don’t know much more than we know. We played cards for a time, and then Katie and I went for a walk.”

      “A walk? Down to the park?” Mother asked.

      “No. There were a lot of people down there cheering and singing, and I knew that Father did not want us to do anything very gay, so we walked to the flats.” The “flats” were the flood plain areas that ran next to the Etobicoke Creek in certain parts of Brampton. They were undeveloped areas. “We stayed there for a while. I must have sat on some wet grass. I noticed the stain this morning.”

      “I see,” Mother said as though it was normal for Ina to notice such things. For most of Ina’s life, she had never cared or noticed how she looked. Of course, that had changed since her high school graduation dance a few months earlier.

      “When were you there, Ina?” Aunt Charlotte asked. “I hope it wasn’t dark at that time.”

      “It wasn’t dark when we walked to the flats. I suppose it was dark when we returned.” I said nothing as I watched her performance. All of the years of amateur theatrics had clearly stood her well.

      “Ina, you and Katie can no longer carry on that way,” Mother scolded. “You aren’t fifteen anymore. You’re nineteen. You are young ladies. In addition to your physical safety, you have your reputations to protect. I will hear no more of late night unchaperoned walks to secluded areas like the flats.”

      “Yes, Mother,” Ina agreed demurely.

      “I have a mind to speak with Mrs. McKechnie. Surely she must be concerned for Katie’s safety and reputation too.”

      “Oh no, Mother, there’s no need to do that.” Ina was quite emphatic. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again. With no men in the house, Mrs. McKechnie has so many other things to concern herself with.”

      “She certainly does,” Mother agreed. “I’ll thank you both to remember that.”

      Ina put down the knife she was using to peel an apple. She had lost her appetite for food requiring a steady hand. After glancing at her watch, she brought the conversation to an end, announcing her need to prepare for her shift at the telephone switch. She expected the day would be quite busy with calls, including those from people like Uncle William with wartime business to conduct. He would place most of his calls from Aunt Rose’s bakery. Our family could not afford to own a telephone. While Aunt Rose likely could have, she did not see the point of having such an apparatus installed in both her house and the bakery. Like most local merchants, she had come to understand the necessity of having a telephone in her business.

      * * *

      In those first few hours of the war, governments in Canada pledged 1,300,000 bags of flour to Great Britain. Valued at nearly $4,000,000, they were made by the governments of Canada (1,000,000 bags), Ontario (250,000 bags), and Manitoba (50,000 bags). Uncle William’s calls that week pertained to the fulfillment of those gifts. The three governments were not, of course, sitting on stockpiles of wheat or flour. It all had to be procured. Uncle William and others in the national grain industry were advising the governments on the means to grow the grain, to have it milled into flour, and to transport it both to the port in Montreal and ultimately to its delivery point in England.

      “Why is this requiring so many meetings, Father?” Roy asked one night before trying again to convince his father to return to Winnipeg on an earlier train. “You deal with grain purchasing and milling every day. Why is this taking so much time?”

      Uncle William would have been happy to answer that question if it had been posed by anyone else in the family. He thought his eldest son, who had been working as a part-time junior clerk at the Maple Leaf Milling Company for the two prior years, should have known better. “This involves enormous amounts of grain. You know how much wheat must first be purchased in order to create that much flour. And the milling of this wheat is in addition to the amounts that are being milled to satisfy existing customer orders. It will be difficult to meet the commitments made to Britain—particularly for Ontario. That province doesn’t produce enough grain to support its own population, let alone the amount required to meet the commitment it just made to Britain.” Ontario’s days as Canada’s wheat king had ended in the prior century.

      “The Ontario government will urge its farmers to devote as much acreage as possible to fall wheat, but it’s August. Decisions like this need to be made in the spring. Ontario will not be able to grow enough wheat to meet its commitment. It will have to purchase wheat from the west.”

      “Or from the States,” Roy said, now applying more of his knowledge.

      “Oh, no. Not from the United States. We’ve been working hard with the federal government on this. Canadian wheat! We are quite clear on this: the government orders must be filled with nothing but Canadian wheat.”

      “Unless it is more expensive than American wheat,” Father said.

      “Even if it is more expensive than American wheat,” Uncle William replied firmly. By this, we knew that it was likely to be just that.

      Then, showing his interest in Canadian families, Uncle William went on. “One million, three hundred thousand bags of flour—that much demand will certainly increase the price of wheat, flour, bread, and everything else made with flour and sold in our bakeries. That is to be expected. But if we don’t procure this properly, there will be some real price-gouging. Farmers and mill owners will be seen to make unrealistic profits from these generous commitments. All Canadians will pay the price. We don’t want that.”

      Fortunately for consumers, the other provinces pledged other gifts. Quebec pledged 4,000,000 pounds of cheese; New Brunswick, 100,000 bushels of potatoes; British Columbia, 1,200,000 cans of salmon; Prince Edward Island and Alberta, collectively, 150,000 bushels of oats; Nova Scotia, 500,000 tons of coal; and Saskatchewan, 1,500 horses. But all the gifts—the flour, potatoes, salmon, oats, coal, and horses—had to be transported. Uncle William was concerned about that as well.

      “Trains and ships,” Uncle William said in response to a question about the method of conveyance. “And of course, they will both be required for use at the same time we need to transport overseas twenty thousand men, all of their equipment, and thousands of horses—not just the fifteen hundred pledged by Saskatchewan. The federal government is preparing to commandeer a number of ships for its use during the war. That is one of the things we have been discussing with Dick Blain.” Uncle William was again referring to our Member of Parliament. He went on, “But the ships—they raise another concern. They could be threatened by the German navy.”

      “Surely the Germans would have no ability to pirate our ships,” Mother said.

      “Don’t be so sure of that, Mary,” Uncle William replied. “It’s for that reason we currently have over seven million bushels of wheat in our Montreal ports that we cannot ship east.”

      “Because you’re afraid of the wheat being stolen?” I asked.

      “Because we’re afraid of the gold necessary to pay for the wheat being stolen. We fear an attack on the ships carrying the gold. It has affected trade between Canada and the United States with England—and others too. But a new scheme is being proposed. Our minister of finance is going to act as trustee for the Bank of England. It will no longer be necessary to ship gold. The ships in our port should soon be able to depart.”

      “William, you seem to know a lot about the goings-on of our Conservative government,” Father remarked in a not very complimentary way.

      * * *

      While Uncle William was using the telephone in Aunt Rose’s bakery to conduct his communications. Roy was using the more traditional method—the telegram. In Brampton, telegrams were sent and received by our family friend and Brampton Excelsiors Lacrosse Club executive member, Thomas Thauburn. From his general store premises on Main Street, next to the jewellery store of Mr.