Carole Ann Jean (McLeod) Cox (1940-2019)

Carole Ann Jean (McLeod) Cox was born 11 May 1940 in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada. She passed away at her home in Winnipeg on 7 October 2019 with her daughter, Janelle and her husband, John Cox by her side.

Despite many health setbacks (she was a breast cancer survivor and was also diagnosed with Chronic lymphocytic leukemia) Carole is remembered for remaining upbeat in the face of adversity. You can tell by that smile on her face! She explained...

I am a very strong believer that attitude will carry you along way, plus a very healthy dose of humour.

Carole (McLeod) Cox was the great-great-granddaughter of pioneers, John Culbert and Mary Ward who left Ireland in 1840 and settled in Biddulph Township near Lucan, Ontario. 

Carole's grandparents were George Arthur Culbert (1882-1978) and his wife, Jean McLeod Campbell (1884-1972). George Arthur Culbert was the son of John & Mary's youngest son, Richard Culbert and his wife, Jane Eleanor Fairhall.

Carole's grandparents on the occasion of their 50th wedding anniversary in 1957, Jean McLeod (Campbell) Culbert and George Arthur Culbert 

Carole said that all his Manitoba relatives called her grandfather, George Culbert. I told her that all his Ontario relatives called him Arthur Culbert. She replied, "I honestly never heard my grandfather called anything but George." So regardless of whichever name you choose to call him, George Arthur Culbert left his home on Poplar Farm near Lucan, Ontario when he was a young man to seek his fortune in Manitoba.

Carole was the daughter of Jean Elsie Culbert (1908-1975) and James Archie McLeod (1904-1979).
 

Carole's parents, Jean Elsie Culbert and James Archie/Archibald McLeod on their wedding day, 20 August 1938 in Winnipeg.

Carole's mother Jean (Culbert) McLeod moved to Winnipeg from Boissevain, Manitoba, and became a Registered Nurse. She met her future husband at a nursing school dance. Carole had planned to write her mother's story for us but her illness got in the way.

Carole's father, Dr. James McLeod was a parasitologist, and the Head of the Zoology Department at the University of Manitoba. Dr. McLeod received an award for his discovery of the organism that causes an uncomfortable rash known as "swimmer's itch." When he made the discovery, he was a young, post-graduate research worker at the University of Manitoba.

Headline from the Winnipeg Tribune, 26 October 1934.

I asked Carole about her father's discovery and she replied...

He discovered the microbe in the lake that made swimmers very uncomfortable. He infected himself with the microbe to prove his research. However, he was dating my Mom, and she wrote in her diary that she was dating a man that was constantly scratching.  I guess he explained as eventually they did marry.

Dr. McLeod was the authority on tapeworms and he authored two books on the subject including the definitive study, The Zoology of Tapeworms, a massive tome which he co-authored with Robert A. Wardle. 

I asked Carole about her father's tapeworm books and she said...

He did not make any money from these publications.  With the completion of the second book, I wanted him to put a "flashy woman" on the cover and call the book "The Sex Life of a Tapeworm," then maybe he would make a bit of money. He had a chuckle, but no go!

You may be familiar with Scotland's Loch Ness Monster or British Columbia's Ogopogo. But how many of you know about Manipogo of Lake Manitoba? Thought to be anywhere from 12 to 50 feet long, Manipogo is described as "a long muddy-brown body with humps that show above the water, and a sheep-like head."

Manipogo

In the early 1960s, Carole's father, Dr. James McLeod set out to try to locate the remains of the creature. He found none. 
 

Headline from the Calgary Herald, 18 August 1961

I asked Carole about her father's involvement with Manipogo and she replied...

Yes, it was my Dad that went looking for the monster. I have the original newspaper article framed and hanging in my kitchen, one of his favourite places to sit. The paper's cartoonist drew a pic of Dad in a boat. This cartoon headed up the article about his search. While Dad was out on the lake, someone phoned my Mom and asked why he was looking for monsters when he had two monsters at home? Needless to say, my Mom was not pleased. My sister and I thought it was hilarious!

Carole also mentions her father's involvement with the Manitoba Museum...

My Dad and two other academics started the Manitoba Museum in what is now the Manitoba Archives. I remember going with Dad to the Museum and seeing all sorts of jars with animal fetuses like a two-headed pig. The museum grew and the city built the museum a new building. Dad was given the honouree title of a founder and a lifelong member of the Board of Directors. His name is carved into the entrance wall along with other life members.

In her youth, Carole was a champion figure skater. I don't have any photos from her figure skating days but I have a few photos from her childhood that she sent to me...

Carole McLeod c1943, about age 3.

First cousins, Richard Revis "Dick" Culbert (left) and Carole McLeod c1941. Dick was two and a half weeks older than Carole. He grew up to be a legendary mountaineer. You can read about him in this previous post.

Four generations in 1946. Carole is about 6 years old. She's standing beside her great-grandmother, Jane Eleanor (Fairhall) Culbert. Carole's mother, Jean Elsie (Culbert) McLeod stands behind Jane. Carole's grandfather (father of Jean Elsie, and son of Jane) George Arthur Culbert is behind Carole.

Carole attended the University of Manitoba. She lived all her life in Winnipeg with the exception of one year in Toronto.

Carole was Chairwoman of the Pembina District Boy Scouts; President of the Clan MacLeod Association; and she was involved with the Manitoba Highland Dancers' Association. 

Carole had a long and successful career as a merchandiser with Lowney, Johnson & Johnson, and then L’Oreal. She happily retired in 1993. 

Carole loved to travel and her favourite destination was the United Kingdom. She was an avid reader, gardener and cook. Carole loved to entertain and her home was always the place to be for the holidays.

Carole took the Ancestry DNA test. For those of you who've taken the test and want to see how much DNA you share with Carole, type her username 71ccox into the Member Search directory on your Ancestry home page.

Here's what she told me about the DNA test...

I found "new" cousins. Thanks heavens they are as crazy and fun-loving as the Culbert family I have known most of my life. I could not get over the physical resemblance of the known and unknown cousins. Irish Culbert genetics alive and thriving.

Carole is remembered for her passion for good times and laughter. Carole is still with us in spirit so let's give her the last word...

All of my Culbert family are always up for a party. When we get together, it is just non-stop laughter! - Carole (McLeod) Cox.

Carole in a friend's kitchen in England

Carole Ann Jean (McLeod) Culbert's Family Tree:
Ancestors:
John Culbert & Mary Ward (great-great-grandparents)
Richard Culbert & Jane Eleanor Fairhall (great-grandparents)
George Arthur Culbert & Jean McLeod Campbell
Jean Elsie Culbert & Dr. James Archie McLeod (parents)
Descendants (Children):
James David McLeod (1966-2009)
Kristen Verin-Treusch
Janelle McLeod 

To view Carole's obituary, click here.

Shrouded in Secrecy: Forced Adoption

It's impossible to know how many young, unmarried women have given up their babies for adoption because until recently, the topic was shrouded in secrecy. Of course, some of these women willingly gave up their babies but thousands of women were coerced or forced to sign adoption papers. It's likely that we all have relatives who had to hide their pregnancies.

In post-war Canada between 1945 and 1988, approximately 400,000 unmarried women (mostly teenagers) were pressured to surrender their babies. The numbers are staggering. This period is known as the "Baby Scoop Era." Forced adoption also took place in other countries such as the United Kingdom, Ireland, New Zealand and Australia. In the United States, more than 1.5 million women were forced into giving up their babies.

For too long, these women have been seen as having voluntarily relinquished their children rather than surrendering them by force for adoption.

Until the 1970s, young people didn't receive adequate sex education. There was no Our Bodies, Ourselves to enlighten you. Parents were tight-lipped about how babies were made. If sex was discussed, it's unlikely any girl ever heard that it could be enjoyed for pleasure, not just procreation. You were expected not to do it.

Girls (and boys, separately) would be herded into the school gymnasium to watch a film. The girls' film focused mainly on menstruation but you'd also be shown a segment about reproduction. You'd see an image of a sperm fertilizing an egg but you weren't necessarily told about the events leading up to the meeting of egg and sperm. Birth control wasn't even on the agenda. Following the screening, you'd receive a pamphlet about menstruation but you still hadn't the foggiest idea about the sex act, itself. Many girls were left completely in the dark when it came to knowledge about conception.

Not surprisingly, many single, young ladies were shocked to find themselves pregnant.

Abortion wasn't really a choice in the past for religious reasons, philosophical reasons, health reasons or legal reasons. Abortion was illegal in Canada until 1969. Illegal abortions were performed but frequently led to massive infections and death. In the United States, abortion was decriminalized in 1973 but remains a controversial political issue to this day. Anti-abortion legislation is on the books in several states, and there has been a steady decrease in access to abortion.

Not all girls became pregnant by their boyfriend. Some girls were coerced into having sex or they were raped. These girls were made to feel that the violation was their fault, and that they were responsible for luring a man into sexual relations.

There was a HUGE social stigma attached to sex outside of marriage and unwed motherhood. This cannot be understated.

Society marginalized the unwed mother, even in popular culture through books and films such as these...

Not Wanted, a movie released in 1949. After abandoning her home town to follow a travelling musician, a young woman is abandoned by him and then finds herself pregnant.

Unwed Mother, a movie released in 1958.
The plot concerns a country girl who moves from a farming community to Los Angeles. She falls in love with a smooth-talking grifter who gets her pregnant and then abandons her. After visiting a drunken abortionist, she decides to give the baby up for adoption but eventually comes to regret that decision and pursues the foster parents who adopted her child.

Single and Pregnant by Larry Maddock, a book published in 1962. "1 out of 7 unmarried girls will become illicitly pregnant this year."

According to society, "Good girls" did not have sex. Period.

Nonetheless, good girls were having sex. Some were exploring their sexuality while others felt pressured by their boyfriends to "go all the way." If their "delinquent" behaviour was discovered, they risked being labeled "bad girls" which would result in being ostracized from their families and friends. You could lose your entire group of friends and family if you admitted you were having sex. Single girls who had sex were considered "sluts" or "whores."

Many other girls were completely unaware about intercourse and how you got pregnant. One common myth was that you couldn't get pregnant the first time you had sex. So if a girl "went too far" on a date, she was alarmed to find out she was pregnant.

Some young men promised their girlfriends that they would "withdraw" during sex, one of the least effective methods of birth control. And speaking of birth control, before the late 1960s/early 1970s, birth control was very difficult to obtain. A federal law was passed in Canada in 1892 to prohibit the sale or advertising of birth control. Even married women were discouraged from asking for birth control.

The birth control pill became available in 1960 but for therapeutic reasons only, not as a form of birth control. Imagine how difficult it must have been for a single woman!

Condoms were condemned by some moralists and even by some medical professionals but by the end of the 19th century they were the most common form of birth control. Condoms were available in drug stores but were hidden behind the counter. A young man asking to purchase a package of condoms not only risked embarrassment, the pharmacist might call his parents and report his activity.

A single, pregnant woman could be fired from her job or expelled from school. She was severely judged by society.

Your choices then, came down to this: either get married (thus becoming a respectable woman) or give up your baby for adoption.

Some people in power had other ideas on how to solve the problem...

Headline from 1960 in the United States

Most parents were outraged to find that their daughters were "in trouble." Few supported their daughter's decision to raise the child on their own. Single motherhood just wasn't acceptable in our society. A girl could be thrown out of the house and left penniless to fend for herself if she wanted to keep her baby. Some angry parents tried to force their daughters' boyfriends to marry them. More often than not, the man refused or the man's parents insisted that he refuse. Sometimes, his parents shamed the young woman to her face and said the pregnancy was all her fault. On the other hand, some young men proposed to their pregnant girlfriends, married them, and they went on to have happy lives together. Quite often, however, they divorced.

Most girls' parents feared that their daughter's pregnancy would bring shame upon the family. The question "what would the neighbours think?" was more important than "what's best for our daughter?"

The answer to the situation was to send your daughter away to a maternity home for unmarried mothers. I use the word "home" loosely as there was nothing homelike or cozy about these institutions. Run almost exclusively by religious organizations and funded by the Canadian government, there were more than 50 of these maternity homes in Canada by the end of the 1960s, and more followed as time went on. It was expected that girls would be punished, rehabilitated and learn their lesson at the maternity homes.

Since maintaining your family's reputation in the community was of utmost importance, friends and neighbours were told that the girl had "gone to an aunt's" or that she'd been offered a job opportunity out-of-town.

Upon arrival at the maternity home, the girls would have aliases assigned to them. They were not to tell anyone their real names. They weren't allowed to make friends even though there were many other girls living there. Their mail was often censored, they couldn't make phone calls, and they were locked in at night. Occasionally, outings for the girls were arranged but if a group of girls was seen in public, eggs were thrown at them.

Upon giving birth, they were required to immediately relinquish their child for adoption. Dr. Marion Hilliard of Women’s College Hospital stated that “when she renounces her child for its own good, the unwed mother has learned a lot. She has learned to pay the price of her misdemeanor and this alone, if punishment is needed, is punishment enough.”(Toronto Telegram 1956).

I remember someone who was sent by her parents to Bethesda Hospital, a maternity home in London, Ontario to have her baby in the early 1970s. She gave the baby up for adoption. A new building, the Bethesda Centre replaced the original structure seen in the photo above. In 1994, 18-year-old Pattie Mallette stayed at the Bethesda Centre while awaiting the birth of her son, Justin Bieber. Pattie kept her baby and raised him as a single parent.

Few young unmarried women had a choice as to whether or not they could keep their babies. Their parents, their church, and society saw to it that these girls were forced into giving up their children.

Girls at maternity homes were told that "the right thing to do" was to give up their babies for adoption to decent, deserving married couples; people who could give the child everything that the young woman could not offer her child. If a girl dared to argue that she wanted to keep her baby, she was told she would be an unfit mother, she would be shunned by society, and that her child would be called a "bastard" on the playground. Humiliation and verbal abuse broke these girls' spirits. They were told they were sinful and needed to be punished. They were not informed of their rights. The few young men who did want to take part in their babies' lives were not permitted contact with their girlfriends while they were in the maternity homes. These men were left feeling helpless.

February 19, 1951 cover of LIFE magazine.

Popular magazines of the 1950s and 1960s promoted adoption but led to misconceptions about the mothers. Life magazine's 1951 article, "The Adoption of Linda Joy" gave the impression that unwed mothers were shallow, immature girls who "had a long life ahead." Magazine articles such as this had a wide readership. They convinced the public that unmarried mothers were frivolous young women who didn't want to burden themselves with children, and that they wanted to get rid of their babies. This misunderstanding still lingers today.

Most girls had no idea what to expect physically or emotionally from childbirth. Hospital staff didn't explain anything to them about labour and childbirth. When the time came to give birth, girls' pubic areas were shaved and they were given enemas; shocking and embarrassing experiences for these young women. Because of the lack of sex education both at home and at school, some girls didn't even know what part of the body babies came from! In addition, the girls were not allowed to have the support of friends or family members present at the birth.

In many cases, the newborn babies were whisked away from the girls immediately after birth. Many girls weren't allowed to see or hold their babies at all. Some girls were tied down during the birth. In some instances, doctors covered the girls' faces with sheets so they couldn't see their babies. Some had their chests bound following the birth to prevent lactation. When asked the gender of their babies, some girls were told, "It's none of your business." Some girls were lied to and told that their babies died at birth.

Counselling was not available to the girls. They were told never to speak of the birth to anyone.

When the girls returned home, their parents acted as if nothing had happened. It was a family secret; never to be spoken of again.

Girls were instructed by their parents, pastors and social workers to forget the experience; to pretend that it never happened and to get on with their lives. They were told that some day they would find a husband and have "real" children, and that they would have no recollection of their first birth experience. Of course, forgetting the birth of your child was impossible. When they couldn't forget, as they'd been instructed to do, these young women felt like failures. Not only did they feel like they'd failed their families by becoming pregnant, and failed their babies by giving them up for adoption, they also felt like failures because they couldn't forget.

Many young women fell into depression after they left their babies behind. They suffered grief and sadness for the rest of their lives, and intense feelings of guilt, shame, damaged self-esteem, and health issues. They were told they'd "snap out of it" once they got married and had more children but the negative feelings persisted. These women were traumatized, and the pain never went away.

Support groups for mothers and for adoptees did not begin in earnest until the 1970s. Today, women also have the Internet to share their grief and their issues through chat rooms. However, even today there is ignorance surrounding adoption. There is still a common belief that most women gave up their babies willingly when in fact the percentage was quite small.

In 2018, the Standing Senate Committee on Social Affairs, Science and Technology released a report, The Shame is Ours: Forced Adoptions of the Babies of Unmarried Mothers in Post-war Canada. The report called on the federal government to issue a formal apology for this "disturbing chapter" in Canada's history. Australia's government apologized in 2013. So far, no apology has been offered from the Canadian government.

This episode in history was a violation of human rights.

It's important for the women who surrendered their babies to know that they're not alone; countless other women shared these experiences and were told to "get over it" and to keep it a secret. Many women have gone to their graves without meeting their child or daring to talk about what happened. For those of us who know a mother who lived through this heart-wrenching experience, we can help by listening to these women and understanding. Men who were robbed of their role as fathers have suffered, too. And for the adoptees, especially those adult children dealing with feelings of abandonment, it's important to know that in many cases, their mothers had no choice.

Recommended reading:

Gone to an Aunt's: Remembering Canada's Homes for Unwed Mothers by Anne Petrie. McLelland & Stewart, 1998. (Canadian)

White Unwed Mother: The Adoption Mandate in Postwar Canada by Valerie J. Andrews. Demeter Press, 2018. (Canadian)

The Girls Who Went Away: The Hidden History of Women Who Surrendered Children for Adoption in the Decades Before Roe v. Wade by Ann Fessler. Penguin Press, 2006. (American)

Ivan Culbert Gives Vivid Description of Normandy Invasion

This year marks the 80th anniversary of the start of the Second World War in 1939. We're also marking the 75th anniversary of the Normandy Invasion (D-Day), the Allied invasion of western Europe with the simultaneous landing of U.S., British and Canadian forces on five separate beachheads in Normandy, France. 

By the end of August, 1944 all of northern France was liberated, and the invading forces reorganized for the drive into Germany, where they would eventually meet with Soviet forces advancing from the east to bring an end to the Nazi Reich.[1]

Sergeant Ivan Hector Culbert of Lucan, Ontario fought in this historic battle.
 

Sergeant Ivan Culbert of Lucan, Ontario, Canada.

The photo above was taken during Ivan's service in Italy. It's the photo used in this London Free Press front-page article dated 26 August 1944, where Ivan recounts his experience during the Normandy Invasion in France.

Headline: Into Battle With the Canadians: London Soldier Gives Vivid Description of the Normandy Invasion.

Ivan describes the invasion in a letter to his former employer, E.J. Cossey whom you read about in this previous post. Ivan uses the word "Jerry" throughout the letter which was a WWII nickname for for the Germans.

I've transcribed the article, as follows. The first paragraph was written by a London Free Press editor, followed by Ivan's letter:

Just what it means to go into battle is vividly described by Sgt. Ivan H. Culbert, a former Londoner and son of ex-Reeve and Mrs. Myron Culbert, of Lucan. Veteran of the campaigns in Sicily and Italy, and now in the Battle of Normandy, which he describes as “the daddy of them all,” Sgt. Culbert tells about “this different kind of war” in a letter to E.J. Cossey, local merchant. In his hour-by-hour description word picture of the fight in Normandy, he told of being taken from the lines for special training, they being told they would soon “take part in one of the greatest drives yet made by Allied troops in France.” The events he tells of, he says, have taken place within “the past 48 hours,” and the letter is written on August 10.

It was “a new job for us foot sloggers,” he wrote, “this time we were riding well into enemy lines in armored vehicles. On the day before the big push, officers and men alike were brought together and were shown real photographs of the ground we were to pass over. Everything was wonderfully planned and each man knew what job he had to do.

With the aid of many tanks, air support and thousands of artillery shells, we were to push about four miles into the enemy lines, bypassing any resistance on either flank as we went along. We imagined ourselves as paratroops landing four miles behind Jerry’s line, taking up an all-round protection and holding out for 24 hours when other troops would push through us, mopping up those we bypassed as they went along, thus relieving our pressure from all sides.

I will now try to describe as far as censorship will allow, exactly what took place from about 1900 hours that same day, up to the present time, or the time those much looked-forward-to-troops arrived and passed through.

At 1900 hours on the day of the big push, I looked back on what seemed miles of armor. Everything was lined up some distance back of the start line. The men from several infantry battalions were sprawled out by their vehicles, some writing letters, some playing cards, and others reading books. There were, of course, some not interested in any of that and they lay snoozing in the shade of giant armor. Soon jeeps with a hot meal pulled up alongside us like barges beside huge ships. The men were fed and each given enough rations to carry him through the next 24 hours, a 24 hours of possible hell.

H-hour was set for 2330 hours, (11:30 p.m.), and we were to cross the start line at H plus 5. Those next few hours of waiting seemed like days. On every man’s face could be seen an expression of “I wonder how we’ll make it out.” There was no doubt in any of our minds as to whether we would reach our objective or not. We felt confident in those who planned this show and knew little could go wrong.

As time passed on I heard a rumbling noise in the air. My watch said 11, and I knew those bombers were on time. Before long that rumbling noise went from sky to ground. No less than 1,000 1,000-pound bombs were being dropped on targets over which we would soon pass.

This was followed by huge flashes to our rear and the glorious tune of artillery guns. Like a sprinkling can they poured shells over the enemy’s position and one would wonder how anything could ever live through it. I looked at my watch again, when I heard engines start up and the men began to pile in the vehicles. It was 2330 hours. Five minutes to go and we would cross the start line.

All of a sudden night turned into almost day. Searchlights from our rear provided this light to guide us. At almost the same time tracer bullets were fired high overhead to give us the right direction, and so it continued until our objective was reached.

The cross line was reached and by now every man was wide awake and ready to take on anything that got in his way. I’m sure everyone, like myself, had that certain nervous strain which one gets at times like this. At the same time we all felt confident that God would see us safely through.

Now if you will put yourself in Jerry’s place, sitting there in a trench with his machine gun or mortar and hearing that rumble of some odd thousand vehicles approaching, it would really make you wonder. So it did just that; Jerry was confused. As we rode further and further in we could see him wandering all over the place. He fired a few rounds but they were not accurate. Our shells continued to pass over our heads and advanced a few yards ahead of us, all the way along.

Simply to let us know he still had artillery left, a few shells from his side could be seen bursting around us; they were not accurate. All of a sudden, very near by a terrific explosion, then another, I put my hands to my ears to see if they were still there. We knew what it was immediately, nothing less than a Jerry tank, known to us as an 88. It’s very accurate and a weapon that does not give one much time to duck. He was trying to hit some of our thanks, or even a vehicle in which we were riding. Soon our own leading tanks got wind of its presence and not long after we saw 88 go up in flames.

It was no 3 a.m., so far so good. We knew we had passed by many Jerry positions and also that they would be looked after by the troops who were to pass through us later on. The moon, which was half full, was up by this time, and it sort of put our searchlights to shame. Our tracer guides continued to pass overhead and we wondered how much farther we had to go.

At a certain point before our objective we were to fan out, each battalion going to its allotted spot. Occasionally we were forced to stop, because of rough ground, and it was during those minutes of waiting to move on that my mind wandered back to pre-war days, wondering how soon those days would be back again. A fellow certainly learns to appreciate the finer things of life in times like these.

Two more hours passed, but not without excitement, until finally we began to fan out and we knew then were nearly there. Our objective was a huge piece of ground with trees and buildings, used by an airport to our right. Two companies dismounted and went forward; soon we were all in our allotted positions, and shovels were at work without hesitation.

Our next job would be to stop a counter-attack. Jerry always does try one whenever we stop pushing him back. The morning brought a heavy fog, an ideal morning for a counter-attack. Sure enough, an hour after we got there, word came through to stand by – he didn’t let us down.

Tired and all as we were, with the assistance of tanks and dive bombers, who were now up and at work, we held it off. Like a dog that has been scolded, he put his tail between his legs and beat it back.

From then until the time when those fresh troops pushed through us, everything went well. The enemy we passed in our rear gave us no trouble. They walked into our lines by the dozen.

Now that part of the show is over we are able to get some rest. Here we are as fresh as ever again, waiting for further orders for the next drive. Why Jerry hangs on, I do not know, he will surely crack before long.

I experienced many attacks with my old regiment in Sicily and Italy, but this one has been the daddy of them all. It’s a different kind of war altogether here in Normandy.

As far as the civilians are concerned, they seem to have sufficient food and clothing, unlike those in Italy. The fields of grain that escaped war scars are waiting to be harvested.

All for now, hope everything is going well with you. Hope to be back with you all again in the not too distant future, (signed) Ivan.

 - end of letter -

The article continues...

Joining the army five years ago, Sgt. Culbert went overseas one month after with the R.C.R. He was in France at the time of its surrender, in Sicily and Italy, as far as Ortona [Italy], and is now back in France.

Two days after writing this letter, Sgt. Culbert was wounded, and is now in hospital. His injuries were to his right thigh, which was pierced by shrapnel.

 

Ivan Culbert's name is included in this list of casualties. During the war, these lists were regularly printed in newspapers from coast to coast. Ivan recuperated from his injury, continued to fight, met and married his "war bride," Elvira Hutchings, and returned safely home to Canada.

Footnotes:
[1]Encyclopaedia Britannica, Normandy Invasion World War II.