The Biggs' Boys

By Ken Stofer

Copyright 2005-2007 Ken Stofer, All Rights Reserved

Biography of Peggy Steele (nee Moore )

   In the late 1930s my girlfriend Kay Yeo and I were running a little restaurant business strike business in the bus station in Duncan on Vancouver Island, B. C. Kay and I decided we'd like to go directly to England and volunteer.

   I had heard about captain Henry Seymour-Biggs, who was helping young men go over to join the R.A.F, so Kay and I decided to go and see him in Victoria, B. C. His office was on lower Government Street near the old post office building. Captain Biggs said he could help Kay get over OK because she didn't have any dependents. I was just out of a marriage, but I wasn't divorced. He asked me if I had any children and when I told him no, he said it would be better if I assumed my maiden name again, which I was entitled to do. I agreed, so he arranged to get the passports and set everything up for us.

   We went home and told our folks. The snag was we didn't have quite enough money. The whole thing was going to cost something like $500, for the two of us, train across Canada and ship to England. That was a lot of money in those days. So we went up to Parksville to see Kay's father Bill Yeo. Bill didn't want to give Kay any money because he really didn't want her to go. However in the evening I talked to Kay's Aunt Nell who lived with Kay's parents, and set up a meeting with him in the Sportsman's Lodge. You could go there for a drink. My father-in-law had built the building and I made it an excuse to go up there and see it . Anyway, Bill, Nell and I went up to have a beer, Kay wasn't old enough. Anyhow to cut the story short Bill says to me, “I'll loan you the money if you want, Peggy, in fact I'll give it to you, but I'm not gonna give it directly to Kay to send her to a war zone and put her in jeopardy.”

   It wasn't that he wouldn't give her $200. Anyway he gave it to me and when I got home I told Kay that her dad gave us the money. I said he gave it to me because he didn't want to give it to you (to place your life in danger).

   Well, we made all the arrangements, settled our affairs turning over our restaurant to another girlfriend who was in with us.

   The family took us down to Victoria. Everybody came down to see us off and we had a meal at the Poodle Dog Cafe, and then took the CPR ferry to Vancouver to catch the train. We left on March 5th, 1940. We traveled by coach on the train because it was the cheapest way to go. We were doing everything as cheap as we could. Somehow the trainmen found out that we were paying our way to England to join up - were they ever good to us.

   We had all of our meals in their quarters and they turned their beds over to us while they stayed up all night. They were wonderful. The end of the line for us was at the port of Saint John, New Brunswick., where we stayed overnight.

   The people in the hotel knew we were volunteering for the service overseas and were very kind to us. They asked us if there was anything special we would like to do. We said we had always wanted to have an old-fashioned sleigh ride, with bells and horses, so they arranged it for us. It was at that time we met Cyril Rodd and Allen Clegg other Bigs’ Boys who were going over to join the Royal Air Force. All of us went on the sleigh ride and it was great.

   The next day the four of us went to the dock area and boarded the old drunken flat bottom scow, Duchess of Richmond for our Atlantic crossing. The boys were very, very protective of us. It was very funny, because Rodd was what the English people would call a Victorian; quite conservative in his ways. On the ship we met up with 10 or so Canadian Navy P. O.'s being sent over to Portsmouth for gunner’s mate course. We had fun partying on the way over. It was rough, as you might expect weather at that time of year. Kay said, “I've got to go and lie down. I feel awful.” Most of the chaps said, “Don't lie down, you'll never get up if you do.” Kay said, “No way,” and she went to bed. Two of the boys, Walt Tapley and Curly Corbin, who incidentally, was blown up on his way back from his course, in England, took an arm either side of me and made me walk the deck. I was just crying to lie down and so I walked and walked until I began to feel okay and from then on I never missed a meal or anything.

   We got to the U.K. and Seymour-Biggs had arranged for us to meet Uncle Bill. Now I can't think of what Uncle Bill's last name was, but he was a Major with Enfield Small Arms. He took us to a little B&B Hotel because the Y was full; everything was full. After we had settled in, we put everything extra that we had, money and everything, in our suitcases, locked them and went downstairs about 8 or 9 o'clock to have supper. When we came back to our room, all of our money and jewelry was gone. We had only been in the hotel about an hour and a half. To this day I think it was the proprietor. So here we are with no money to keep us in London. The police were called in but could do nothing to help us. We went to Canada House and they told us to go to B.C. House. The B.C. House people were very good and gave us all of our meals until we got settled in the service. They also gave us a few pounds to tide us over.

   I think it was only two nights before we were accepted in the service. We joined the Fanys - Field Ambulance Nursing Yeomanry which came into effect during the Boer War and it was really for daughters of the Gentry. Well the only claim we had to gentry was that I was a direct descendant of Nelson and that got us in, although they thought I should join the navy. I had had enough of that rammed down my throat when I was a kid, so I wasn't going to join the navy. Anyhow they accepted us and we went down to Rottingdean, about four miles from Brighton, to a supposedly luxury hotel for our training. We had to learn how to read maps, because there would be no road signs. All we knew was right and left and front and back. Later the Fanys were taken into the ATS and we lost our nice uniforms. I think our first posting was to R.O.C. Ammo Depot. They put me in the bar to learn the British money. Here I realized that Canadian women and British women are treated differently in their rank; I mean being a private and who I could associate with. For example I had a boyfriend in the camp who happened to be a Major and a doctor.

   My commandant asked “You’re going out with an officer?” I said, “Well he is only a man . Just because he's got something different on his shoulders...” She interrupted, “You can't do that in the British army.” Later, having been reported, I was called before her again. “You've been seeing the Major,” she said, “Yes,” I said, “I have, but I don't leave camp with him, I meet him outside.” Oh, they had a time with me. I always used to say, “My contention is,” and I would tell them what my contention was. This officer evidently got a kick out of it but she didn't let me know of course.

   I met Princess Elizabeth. She came down to take a mechanics course. I was driving ambulance out of that big officers training camp in England... can't think of the name of it offhand, but all the top brass go there... and I was introduced to Elizabeth, well both Kay and I were, as we were the only two Canadians there and because we were the oddities we met lots of interesting people.

   When we left that camp we were going on ambulance duties. They sent us first to outposts, the two of us together with an ambulance. Everybody liked us. I still have a Sterling silver compact the officers there gave me when I left.

   We were sent to a place near Cambridge. We had an ambulance there. Kay left me here to transfer to the Canadian army which was now in England. I was sent to London and billeted in a lovely old hotel.

   There was a comical incident in London. I could never accept class distinction. I had an order to pick up a Brigadier and take him where they had been where there had been a bombing [he was a doctor] and so I go around to pick him up and I'm sitting there waiting for him. I could see this man in uniform standing on the steps. Of course insignia didn't mean too much to me then either. He’s standing and I'm waiting. Finally I rolled down the window and said “You don't happen to be Brigadier ‘so and so’?” He says in a very posh English accent, “Yes, I'm waiting here for my driver.” I said, “Well I'm your driver.” – “Well,” he says, “I'm waiting for you to open the door.”

   “That’ll be the day,” I said. “I'm used to men opening the door for me.” Well I'll tell you he just about had a fit. I thought he was going to drop dead.

   Anyway he came around opened the door and got in. Halfway to where we were going he started to laugh. I asked him what he was laughing at, because I was quite serious and he was quite serious. I wasn't being smart. Anyway when he put in a report on me, ‘my little Canadian’ spelled CAN-EYE-DIAN quote as he called me, he said they might need to impress on me that I might not meet others who were as tolerant as he. I enjoyed the British army, except it was hard at times. Our clothing wasn't so nice as the Canadians.

   I was in so many air raids I can't think of anyone incident that was worse than others. It was the days of the Battle of Britain. I remember one time in London during the bombing we were sent to pick up the injured. We were picking up the ones who were alive. I couldn't get over the fact that the dead look so peaceful, looked like they were sleeping, but their lungs had exploded and they were dead. We had orderly's who selected who was going in the ambulance and who wasn't. Sometimes we were sent out of the area for a rest, because we work 30 days straight shift shifts and if we were lucky had a weekend off.

   I remember it was quite scary when I was sent to drive for a mental home, Brookwood. There wasn't much to do really, it was more for a rest. I was sent to pick up a soldier from a given address. Usually when we went on a pickup we had an orderly with this. I went to the house and the lady, possibly the young soldier’s mother, came to the door. I asked her if he if ‘so and so’ was there and she said yes. This young soldier comes to the door. As there was no orderly I got him to sit up front with me. No sense in putting him in the back, I thought. We left for our destination, the neurological hospital. I offered him a Canadian cigarette - he smoked it. We talked and I asked him if he would like a cup of tea and he agreed. We had tea. On arrival at Brookwood Hospital I went first to the soldiers quarters.

   Out prances a guy wearing lipstick . Didn't take me long to figure out his problem. He was very nice and told me where to go. Late I later learned his name was Victoria. Some of the guards in the guardroom said, “where is the orderly?”

   “There isn't one,” I said. “I am on my own.” They looked at me kind of funny and then took my young soldier boy away. I wondered why they were taking him all the way down into the padded area. When they returned I asked “What did you take him down there for?” They asked me, “How did he behave with you?”

   “Fine. Just fine,” I said, “A nice kid.” Evidently he was very, very violent. An orderly should have accompanied me, with the soldier locked in the back of the ambulance. They told me different things about him and after they had finished telling their story, I nearly fainted. Later, while I was still there, I heard this young soldier calling out asking for me, “Peggy, Peggy.” I asked if I could go and talk to him for a few for a few minutes through the door. They agreed. I talked to him and said I would bring him some cigarettes. He was okay and calmed down. The guard said it was because I had no aura of being afraid of him. I treated him like any kid, gave him cigarettes, took him for tea and talked about Canada and all that sort of thing.

   I don't really know why I picked him up at his home or why they hadn't sent Service Police up for him. I don't know if he had had fits or was A.W.O.L. from his unit. They hadn't told me any of that, but he was calm while he was with me.

   It was rather a long drive back so I asked to stay in quarters at the hospital for the night. At breakfast I was seated with the guards and some nurses around the table when this guy ‘Victoria’ comes in. He said good morning and pranced on by. I said good morning and “Oh God.” The girl said, “Oh, you don't need to be afraid of him. He isn't interested in women.”

   I remember when they were conscripting 18-year-old-girls. I was at Queen's camp driving for Dr. Christine Moody. Some of those kids had never had a bath. They had lice. We used to give them shots, drive them to the showers, literally dragged them in. They were petrified we were going to do something terrible to them.

   I went to Aldershot for a bit and then down to Plymouth and that was a bit rough, more than a bit. Lots of raids.

   I remember when I was with No. 8 Holding Unit. I got to be friends with the R.E.M.E. Colonel. He was really nice and used to ask for me when his driver Moe wasn't available. I used to take the Col. to the American camps. “I'll arrange for you to eat in the sergeants mess Peggy, to have your meals,” he would say. “Don’t worry about me sir I’ll look after myself.” I told him. Yes I even learned how to say sir. Anyway, I used to head for the kitchen, to the cooks. The Americans had lovely food. They’d give me cans of corn, butter and coffee, a real big CARE package. I guess one day the Colonel smelled the coffee. He said, “Why is it you always go to the cooks?”

   “Well,” I said, “I’ve got coffee, butter, corn…” He was just about drooling. He asked if I could get him some butter. “We mess good,” he said, “but not much butter. Oh I had lots of fun time too.

   I went for “Eleven-zees” (tea time) with the Colonel in his office everyday, while I was in the garage. I looked at and read everything. One day he said, “Peggy, you can look at anything you like, but don’t go into THAT drawer - you might be upset – so don’t go into it.” Anyhow he was called out for something and the first thing I did was open that THAT drawer to see what was in it. Well he walked back in just in time to see I had opened that drawer to see it contained condoms (for issue to his soldiers). Was my face red. Well, in those days girls didn’t know about those sort of thing, like today. He started to laugh. “I told you not to go in there,” he said.

   It was coming up Christmas. The Colonel asked me, “What would you like for Christmas that we can make you?” He said “make you” because there was really nothing that one could buy. I said, “I would like to have a Teddy bear.”

   “A Teddy bear? How on earth are we going to get a Teddy Bear?”

   “That’s what I want,” I said. “I don’t want anything else.” He said, “Well, alright.” Christmas came and there was my Teddy bear. They had taken a brown blanket to make the Teddy bear, stuffed it, taking the lining out of gloves to make its ears and Oh, I just worshipped that thing. I called it B.C.

   Later I was up in Scotland at OCTU (Officer Cadets Training Unit) working on my commission, when a request for transfer to the Canadian Army came through and I went up to the War Office. Transferring to the Canadian Army meant I had to go back to being a Private, which I did because I wanted to come back to Victoria when the war was over. We didn’t think the war was going to last that much longer. There was no way I could save enough money for my return trip after I was demobbed from the British Army.

   I went up before the British Commandant to get my pay book. She handed it to me and I read it: Military Conduct – EXEMPLARY. I started to laugh and said, “How come this,” referring to the ‘EXEMPLARY’.

   “Well,” she said, “it wasn’t what you did. It was what you didn’t get caught doing. You were a good soldier. “We enjoyed you.” They nicnamed me CONTENTION, because everything I said was, “My contention is…”

   After I transferred they sent me to London for a while and later to Aldershot to a holding unit driving staff cars. That was the wrong thing for them to do to me. I had a marvelous mechanic, Shep, an older man, he was wonderful. He looked after my vehicles, polished my brass for me; a really nice man, and Russ his helper was good to me too.

   Unfortunately some of the Canadian staff officers used the vehicles just to visit their girlfriends. I was getting more and more uptight about it, because I had paid my way over to do my bit in the war effort, not to chauffeur officers no useless trips to girlfriends. One day after taking some of these officers on unnecessary trips I was waiting ever such a long time for this Major. I guess I just cracked. I stormed in and said, “Where the hell are you?” I didn’t even call him Major or sir. Well he came out and said, “Oh Peggy, would you like something to eat or drink.”

   I told him to come out and get in the car now and come back to camp or I’m going to leave. He just looked at me, he was horrified. He had obviously been drinking heavily. He came back with me and I got him into camp. His batman came out and helped get him into bed. I couldn’t sleep that night and in the morning went into the company office and said that I wanted to see the Commandant. The sergeant said, “You can’t. You’ll have to wait.”

   “No me,” I said, my anger from the night before still with me, and I just walked by and into the office and started screaming and yelling at him, “Do you think I’m going to drive your ‘blankety blank” officers here and there so they can screw around.” Oh I was mad. Well he tried to comfort and console me. I finally ended up in hospital – all I wanted to do was go back into the British army and then I would be fine.

   Well, they had a board and I was told they couldn’t let me go back into the British army because they would lose face. I was told, “If it’s too hard on your nerves, we will send you home.” I said, “Well, send me home, I’m not driving these men around to see their girlfriends and other officers’ wives. I came over to contribute something to the war effort.”

   So, I was sent home. I heard later that one of the officers I had been taking out on joy rides was sent to the front, so he probably has me to thank for that. I don’t know if he survived the war or not. Anyway, that ended my career. They sent me home. I really hated that, because it could have been good you know.

   I came home on the Queen Elizabeth and there were only nursing sisters and me (a private) and of course the nursing sisters had priority over me, with better quarters.

   There were a group of Americans on the ship and they really liked me and couldn’t imagine a girl paying her way over to join up. There was this one Colonel who said, “Peggy, I’m going to see the conducting officer of the Canadians to see if they will allow me to give you my quarters and I’ll move in with one of my men.”

   He had a beautiful stateroom, bathroom and everything. He saw the conducting officer and it was all arranged. He moved out and I moved in. I came home in style.

   The Queen Elizabeth was fast and came home alone (no convoy). We were chased (by subs). It was jerk, jerk, jerk, as she changed course. It was a really bad sea. I don’t think I got sea sick it was so hard to tell as everyone was giving me drinks.

   I remember the padre always attended all parties with me as my companion to make sure I was okay with all the Americans aboard and to see there was no hanky panky.

   I remember one time this padre says, “You know Peggy I have a little brown jug someone gave to me and I think I'll crack it open for you. All I can remember about that night was saying, “Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition,” while I held out my glass for him to pour another drink. We docked in New York. They had a little trouble locating all of my luggage at first but finally I found it and I was soon on the train. It was an interesting trip across the country and so wonderful to be back in Canada.

   It was a wonderful experience, although I wouldn't want to go through it again. There was too much destruction and people dying, but I had tried to do my bit. If I do anything I do it properly or not at all that was the way my dad taught us.

   I was home again and it was late 1944.

----- Peggy Steele (Nee Moore)

Copyright 2007 Ken Stofer, All Rights Reserved

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