Firearms in The Great Liquor War

 

The tools presented in GLW and Homesteader

There are not many weapons specified in either “The Great Liquor War” or “Homesteader: Finding Sharon”. First, I’ll take a look at those mentioned specifically and then move on to those that would be probable.

Hank James and most of those he dealt with carried the Colt Single Action Army also called the “New Army”, the “Peacemaker”, the “Frontier Single Six” and a host of other names derived from the depths of some super salesman’s imagination. It was designed for the US Army which called for a 7 ½” barrel and chambered for .45 Government. This was quickly followed by .44-40 which allowed the user to have one cartridge for both his Colt and his Winchester Model 1873. During its first production cycle of 68 years, the “Peacemaker” was available in a total of 27 calibers and in almost any barrel length imaginable including perhaps a half dozen with 12” barrels for Edward Judson, Jr. who wrote dime novels under the name Ned Buntline. True West Magazine contributors have done extensive research and found that a few of these “Buntline Specials” actually did exist. Several more have been made for TV and Hollywood productions.

As a personal note, I have never seen or handled a Colt Buntline Special but I have fired a few rounds from a S&W Model 29 in .44 Magnum with a 10 5/8” barrel and I found the long barrel to be awkward though it did help to keep the barrel down during recoil. I have also put several hundred rounds through a similar weapon with a 6” barrel and found it much easier to handle and return to target and accuracy was not diminished, at least up to a hundred yards. For myself I don’t think the “Buntline Special” would be worth the bother.

In “The Making of Jake McTavish” I have included a “Sheriff’s Special” or “Storekeeper’s Model” which did not have an ejector housing (no room) and came with a 4” barrel although 2 ½” and 4 ½” were also made. Also mentioned in the “Jake” story is the Colt .36 Navy and since this was long after percussion weapons it would probably be the 1861 model.

Below,  the Colt SAA (This is a second generation model meaning it was made for smokeless powder. Popularity forced Colt to make them again.)

A Colt Navy .36, 1861

A Colt SAA Sheriff's Model.

   The British Columbia Provincial Police were not issued weapons until many years after the time depicted in these two novels but most (after about 1875) carried the Colt “New Army” although some preferred the S&W .44 American or the Remington Model 1875 Single Action Army. Some carried one of the many .38 calibers available at the time in both single action and (after the BCP Police had already been around for 25 years) double action revolvers. Since they often bought them out of their own money what was chosen could be almost anything. Prior to 1875 and during the era of black powder and the percussion cap the most popular personal weapon for the police officer was the .36 Navy Colt. Yes, the “Peacemaker” or “New Frontier” Colt was first manufactured in 1872 but the first created went to the US Army and it’s doubtful that any civilians – or the BC Provincial Police – received any before 1874 or ‘75

There were many other options. The Paterson Colt was first released in 1838, there were models manufactured by Manhattan, Ethan-Allen, a vast number of makers who were bought and absorbed by the brands we recognize today or simply disappeared for a variety of reasons.

Smith & Wesson made cartridge revolvers in .22 rimfire in 1858 and released the first large bore in 1870. It was designated the S&W Model No.3 First Model Single Action and was available in .44 American and .44 Henry Rimfire.

Here is a S&W Model #3 in .44 American and underneath it a Remington 1875 Army in nickel 

 

         The North West Mounted Police who also feature prominently in “GLW” where first issued the Snider-Enfield .577 carbine and a .455 Adams revolver. However, by the time of this story they had changed to the Winchester Model 1876 military carbine in .45-70 and the Colt Single Action Army.

 

Snyder breech mechanism 

Adams  .455

Winchester Model 1876 military carbine

            Near the climax of The Great Liquor War, Hank’s friend Harry Gilmore saves Hank with a shot from his “.50 Springfield”. From 1794 until 1968 many rifle models manufactured at the Springfield, Massachusetts Armory were referred to as “Springfields” but with the caliber specified it probably would be a .50 trap-door single shot US Army rifle Model 1873 made in the Springfield Armory starting in 1873. Designed for the US Army (with carbines for the Cavalry) many made their way into civilian hands.

 

Springfield trap-door breach

           Probably the longest production run for a “Springfield” would be the M1 Garand (4.5 million copies) (.30-06 produced from 1936 to ‘57) and the last would, I think, be the M14 in the NATO 7.62mm (.308 produced 1959 – ’64 and upgraded variations still made).

 

            At the end of the GLW Hank collects a set of Remington 1875 Single Actions with a nickel finish. (pictured above under S&W .44 American) In the early 1870s Remington lost out to Colt in the US Army contract (a year late) but they did manage to attain contracts for other government orders including one for the US Ministry of the Interior who issued nickel plated Remington revolvers to many of the tribal police forces. These were first issued in .44 Remington Centerfire and later in .44-40.

            My last release, “The Making of Jake McTavish” (There have been 3 more released since I originally wrote and posted this)  takes place in 1898 and by this time the bolt action rifle was becoming popular and available in new calibers. It was also at this time that smokeless powder was introduced. Another weapon that I introduce in this story is the Remington Double Deringer which was chambered for .41 rimfire short, about 150,000 made between 1866 and 1935.

          During the years depicted, the mid 1880s, there would have been a variety of weapons available in both British Columbia and over the mountains in the North West Territories and many where the same weapons found south of the 49^th parallel and most other places in the world. Most of those living in the area, aboriginal, European, rural or urban fed themselves from the available wild-life even though the beef and pork industries were well established in BC by 1870 and a few years later  they were trying to sell livestock. Victoria and New Westminster were actual towns so many people there would rely on others to supply their meat but most became familiar with aspects of preparing their own food. Some weapons where more popular than others, whether through availability, price or access to ammunition but any rifle that one may have heard of could be found somewhere in the west.

            Avocation could also have influence on what a person might want for a weapon. Trappers for example would want something of a small caliber to dispatch their “catch” both quickly and humanly without excessive damage to the pelt and therefore often chose something like a .22. If they could afford it (or thought they could) they might have a .22 revolver for trapping and a rifle in a much larger caliber for bringing down meat. I’ve heard and read stories where a trapper decided to back away from one of his traps and let “Mr. Bear” or “Mr. Wolf” clean it out since all he had on his hip was a .22 pistol.

            As pictured in “Homesteader” many of those working the wild cattle and horses of the time would want a pistol with a fairly large bore. An 800 lb. cow or steer can charge a man very quickly and it takes something with serious impact to slow him or her down. If you are being dragged through the brush by one foot hung up in a stirrup you don’t want that to go on very long. (I can personally attest to that!) Grizzly bears, timber wolves and coyotes can also view a 50 lb. calf as a very tasty morsel and although these species have been taken with small calibers it is probably best not to count on it. 

#1800s, #BC Provincial Police, #British Columbia, #North West Mounted Police, #North West Territories

 

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They're eating the dogs of the people who live in Springfield.

Why is it you can’t find comprehensive information about events in the news.

Why is it that news sources give us fantastic headlines but very few facts to support those wildly emotional headlines?

It’s because of you.

Yes, you.

You didn’t write a review to the paper saying something like, “I really appreciated the information about that drug bust 6 blocks away from where I live. Because of it I was able to make efforts to keep my family safe.”

Or perhaps it was, “Thanks for the story about the intersection at First and Main. We need to bring that up at council.”

Because you didn’t support him/her they couldn’t make a living doing what nature has designed them for and they’re now a cashier at WalMart ………. Or driving a garbage truck.

And now you can’t find out anything about what’s happening in your town/neighborhood/district. All you get is the sensationalism of headlines --- sometimes having very little to do with facts.

True, when you buy the newspaper/magazine/novel it shows support for that author. But that single purchase makes as great an impression on a North American writer’s world, for example, as the ticket purchase to a Manchester football game. Writing a review and posting at the point of sale has, in comparison, as much impact as buying a ticket to a hockey game in that writer’s home town.

Perhaps ten times the impact of the initial purchase? Fifty Times? And an even greater impact if you post it on all your social media accounts.

Very few movies win the prestigious awards because 2 million people bought tickets. They win awards because 1 million people said Very Loudly it deserved the award.

Yes, to the author, a dollar from that initial purchase is important because there may not be many coming in. But for a long-term life creating entertainment or supplying information for people it doesn’t help.

Have you bought a painting, book or music recording? Did you right a review? Was it a present and did you encourage the recipient to write a review?

Why is it that readers don’t understand how important a review is?

Why is it your favorite author doesn’t publish anymore?

Write a Review!

How many times during this past summer was a lie passed off as the truth and you didn’t say, “Horse shit!”

(Are the family pets all gone from Springfield?)

Write a Review!

How many times have you heard statements that start division, hatred, racism and destruction and you didn’t say anything to stop it?

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The Fabrication of a Despot

 

Heat Waves, a Mirage, a Vision

But in reality, a Void

Loving Father figure and TV star.

It started way back in 2004. Some TV executive took a failed business man and made him into a reality TV star.

Oh, this business man had seen successes, but only by ignoring integrity and morality. By leaving his partners, those to whom he had originally sold many ideas, who believed in co-operative efforts and loyalty, to try and complete whatever disaster he had originally talked them into. A project that, through the manipulation of facts sounded good but proved to be impossible under those circumstances offered by reality.

So, this new reality TV star led business graduates and real-estate agents through a variety of tasks that were often mean and impossible. On the rare occasions when they actually achieved success – seldom completely but often partially due to actual intelligence and tenacity superior to the host’s – they were instructed to “Move on to the next phase.”

However, most of the time, even when they achieved some of the success the host had never intended, they were told, “You’re fired!”

And the TV executives, even some of the competition said, “Isn’t that funny?” and others agreed with, “A real riot.”

It wasn’t funny. It was demeaning and destructive. It taught division and hate.

And there were many glaring inaccuracies.

And people said, “Well, it’s only TV. You can’t expect it to be the truth.”

“But it’s supposed to be reality TV.”

“It’s alright. Everyone knows it isn’t real.”

And then he heard that some people on the southern border where unhappy with the undocumented immigrants walking into the country. Rightly so, of course, because some of those avoiding the border, perhaps as much as half of one percent of the total are drug cartel members, thieves and murderers and should be squashed and eradicated like Ebola virus.

Suddenly our reality TV star, who knew absolutely nothing about the situation in the Southwest began describing the, “Six thousand murders. Thousands of slaughtered livestock. Ranchers going out of business due to the theft. Stolen vehicles used to transport cocaine into the country.”

And thinking people said, “Those are all lies. No one will believe such foolishness.”

But no one said, “Prove it!”

And when they did, he said, “Fake news.”

And a national broadcaster --- A NATIONAL BROADCASTER.

ARE YOU PAYING ATTENTION YET?

A national broadcaster also said, “Fake news”!

And he continued with another attack. “These thousands are using up our resources, medical and financial and costing us millions,” he said, when in fact, there where and are no real programs offering relief to these people, most of whom worked hard to pick fruit and vegetables at a price that made it possible for the producer to make a living and the consumer to be able to buy it.

Did anyone say, “Prove it!”? Did anyone say, “Show me the figures!”?

Once he had everyone’s attention and believing the absolute disaster that didn’t exist, and hating neighbors because they didn’t swallow the BS and thereby destroying a perfectly wonderful country, he said, “I’m going to run for President and we’re gonna build a wall.”

HALLELUYA! A WALL!

We pause for a moment for identification.

This “unregistered immigration” is the primary, over-riding concern for the US of A?

The fact that in a majority of cases, if the leader of a household, and in some cases, the secondary leader, develop cancer or have a stroke or heart attack that family is or soon will be homeless doesn’t bother anyone? The fact that in many countries, even underprivileged countries, you can recover from such medical misfortune and live for years, even decades, but in the US of A there is a very high possibility the great emergency room (and it is absolutely second to none) treatment will initially save you and within months or a few years you will die anyway  because you can't reach proper follo -up  doesn’t bother anyone? The fact that a work-place injury can lead to loss of employment even if that injury is due to poor standards maintained by the employer doesn’t bother anyone?

Perhaps it’s education or the lack of it that few understand. During the recent election there were many expressing the idea that the President of the country could change anything he wanted at any time. Suggestions by some, even outright statements that there are no checks and balances on government, civil, state or federal or that laws are changed to meet the circumstances.

That is just two subjects of dozens that are part of every nation. But they aren’t as important as the population being increased through immigration each year by 1% of the existing population?

I wonder what those of Nez Perce ir Cheyenne heritage think about that?

And everyone could envision the wall and could imagine how it would keep the dozen or two dozen cartel maggoty vermin out of the country --- out of the MAYBE 250,000 that were coming across to pick carrots and cabbage --- and they could see what a wonderful thing it would be and it would save the country and keep the drugs out and wages would go up and even the high school drop-outs cooking meth, making oxycodone, cutting and distributing coke, selling drugs on the corner, high-jacking cars and mugging tourist would have a productive job and contribute to society.

And the The Great Wall of the Trumpeter was built and it slowed border incursion way down from 250,000 to 300,000 and no one knows for sure what it cost but it was well over $3 million which would have hired and trained many, many border agents who, unlike a wall, would have been able to tell how dangerous the migrants were and if they intended destruction, mayhem and murder or just wanted a job and to contribute to society.

And the one National Broadcaster who supported The Great Wall of the Trumpeter with what proved to be complete fabrications and who made statements about an international company that was proven to be another fabrication was told by US courts to pay a fine far smaller than the damaged caused --- AND WAS STILL ALLOWED TO OPERATE!

And no one said the company is the “National Enquirer of the airwaves.”

And he said, “They come in here from the Caribbean …”  (Perhaps they swam?) “and they have homeless shelters …” (perhaps made of palm fronds?) “and they’re stealing and eating all the cats and dogs.”

And some thinking people said, “No one will believe something so silly.”

But no one said, “You are a liar.”

And no maggoty vermin from drug cartels entered ----- (Which may be true since I’ve seen publications claiming that the maggoty vermin of drug cartels, finding fewer trained personnel to oppose them simply land their Leer Jets, Bombardiers and Dassault Falcons at the most convenient airport.) ------or at least no such miscreants  were captured by The Great Wall of the Trumpeter

And no one called him out to make him prove these outrageous statements.

No one could envision he would be believed.

It was all a joke. “He’s a clown, unworthy of respect.”

For four years he held a position that should garner the utmost respect but instead the rest of the world  laughed.

If someone in the world shows some signs of having access to dollars (or Rubles) he treats them like great Maharajas or deities even though in at least two cases they are the most despicable creatures on the planet --- even more so than the maggoty vermin of the drug cartels.

There are a great many people desolate and depressed that he is once again headed for Washington DC and I say now unto them, “You brought it on yourself.”

YOU allowed his mis - representation of integrity and proper business practices to not only be portrayed on TV but to continue.

YOU allowed statements with no factual support, in some cases far exceeding even a glimmer of possibility (6000 murders? Stealing and eating all the cats and dogs?), statements that destroyed lives, societies, supportive companies and national unity.

You laughed at his outrageous antics thinking no one could possibly believe.

Apparently, something like 34% of the voting public did believe --- or at least wanted to.

Even when they have been proven wrong, people will still support a very bad cause because they don’t want to admit they’ve been duped. But despite this fact I truly believe that in this circumstance, morality, integrity and a great country are all too important to be abandoned. As a result, many of those now on the bandwagon will realize, in two or two and a half years that reality is far different than reality TV.

Adolf Hitler led million with lies

Benito Mussolini led millions wit lies

Idi Amin hid murder with lies

Good television NEEDS a writer and a director. So, all you people that didn’t say, “Prove it” or “show me the facts” or ‘you’re a liar” ------------ START WRITING.

And the two “sides” are about as far apart as your two hands so surely two decent directors can be found

It would have been much easier for you in 2015 but now you have about four years to make it work.

 You thought the first four where a disaster? You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.

Now that I've been serious for far too long - well, okay, semi-serious - you can get some entertainment by clicking on my picture off to the right or check out these two sites 
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and search for Dave McGowan

They Gave All They Had

The Eleventh Hour

 It is time, once again, to remember that for those things worthwhile, such as the safety and security of our loved ones and  descendants, it is often necessary to work and fight right to the Eleventh hour of the Eleventh day of the Eleventh month.

Here is a story and a poem, both of which  I've posted before on Remembrance Day and are also included in my short story collection "People of the West: A short story timeline". You can find a link to that by clicking on the right half of a picture of me on the right side of the screen. The collection is also available as an audio  (narrated by the author, which, surprise, surprise, is me) which you can download to your phone, tablet or computer and listen to while your working, driving down the road or simply laying in the sun.

The Battle of Britain story is my rendering of the story originally related to me by the main character whose name was mot Harry Burnside.

The poem is something I created from a story Francis Beaton Junior told me when we worked on the Penalty Ranch or Half Diamon D 4 in 1964. He related how he and several other aboriginal young men, either Cree, Beaver, Salteaux or Métis met in Grande Prairie, Alberta, in 1914, went to Edmonton and signed up for the Royal Canadian Army and went to Europe. Frank wasn't sure but he thought he might have been the only one that returned.

Deacon

By D.M. McGowan

 

 

 

Before men started shooting at him with 7.92 mm bullets Harry Burnside had been a singer. He stood in front of fifteen, twenty and sometimes thirty-man orchestras and sang the Dorsey, Kenton, or Ellington songs or whatever else the crowd in front and the band behind wanted to hear. He had worked his magic in Detroit, Chicago, Pittsburgh, Cincinnati and his home town, Windsor, Ontario. Harry thought it was only right to use his natural talent, his voice, to make at least part of his living. It had also been a great way to start a young life and learn the music and entertainment business from professionals. It was only incidental that it was the perfect place for a teenager to learn from the masters how to party.

Sometimes horrendous events are necessary to save a young man from himself. In Harry’s case it was the war in Europe that brought a young man’s party life to a close, at least temporarily. Of course it also accelerated the danger in that life.

Not that Harry rushed to a recruiting station in the autumn of 1939. Some of his young friends and even the older men he worked with certainly did. It was one of the older musicians who convinced him signing up for service was the thing to do.

“Folks ‘r sayin’ this here war is gonna be over in no time,” Marvin, a trumpet player said. “They is sorely mistaken. I bin readin’ up on these here Germans an’ they got ‘em an army. British ain’t got nothin’ an’ they’s gonna get whacked.”

“Are you suggesting we Canadian boys should go over there and get whacked, as you say, right along with them?” Harry asked.

“First off, I ain’t a Canuk, I’m a southern boy,” Marvin said. “Second, when things get tough they’ll be comin’ for us anyway. Might as well sign up for somethin’ you want t’ do instead o’ somethin’ the government thinks you’d be good at.”

“You’re country isn’t in it,” Harry pointed out.

“Not yet,” Marvin responded. “Now, you’ve been workin’ here an’ there along with singin’. I don’t got no income but my trumpet. A man signs up he’ll get three squares a day an’ a cot.”

Harry took a drink of his whiskey and water and cast his gaze around the musicians gathered in the late night or, to those who were not musicians, early morning booze hall.

“You know, Marv, I’ve always wanted to learn to fly a plane,” Harry said.

Marvin clapped him on the shoulder. “Now you’re talkin’, boy. Royal Canadian Air Force. What say we go sign up first thing in the mornin’?”

Harry looked at his watch. “Might I suggest early this afternoon? I might be awake by then.”

 

Somewhere between Windsor, Ontario and Ashford, Kent, Harry lost touch with Marvin, but not with men from the southern States. Almost half the men stationed on the airfield were Americans who had travelled north to Canada and signed on with the RCAF.

Though they wore Canadian uniforms and insignia they were technically in Royal Air Force squadrons. Their squadron commander was a British major, and Harry’s wing commander a Canadian Lieutenant or “Leftenant” as the British officers insisted. The other two Canadian pilots presently assigned to their understaffed wing were actually from Arkansas. In the two man barracks enjoyed by RAF pilots one of those southerners, Otis Tyler was Harry’s bunk mate.

“Ah hear we all getting’ new radios next month,” Otis said as the two pilots walked down the hall one early morning in late August.

Harry shrugged with one shoulder as he held the door open with the other hand and let Otis out into the humid dawn. “Be fine if they’re better than the T9. But if they aren’t, well, I’m starting to get used to being up there all by myself.”

“Mighty handy fur tellin’ somebody where you’s ‘bout t’ crash,” Otis noted.

“As long as they work and you’re no more than a mile away” Harry countered. “The T9 is good for about that far. You’re probably better off depending on a farmer seeing you go down.”

Otis chuckled.

As they approached the mess hall their wing leader, Lieutenant Mapes reached the door and opened it for them.

“Good news chaps,” the officer said as the two non-coms passed through the door he held open for them. “Just spoke with the CO. We stand down today.”

“Excellent!” Harry said. “Now I can have some real breakfast and more than one cup of coffee.”

“Yuh all worry too much ‘bout that coffee thing,” Otis said.

“Quite good policy,” the Lieutenant said.

“Nothin’ to it,” Otis responded. “Yuh all just take an empty cola bottle up with yuh.”

“I say, old boy, a bit hard to pee in a bottle when one is trying to avoid the 109 that is glued to your tail. Not to mention that bottle flying around loose in the cockpit.”

“Yuh all make sure yuh strap it in so it don’ fly ‘round,” Otis said. “As fur takin’ a leak when Gerry’s on muh tail an fillin’ my magic carpet full o’ holes, why ‘bout then I don’ have no trouble passin’ water.”

Lieutenant Mapes laughed. Harry grinned and shook his head in resignation.

“Since we aren’t going up to be shot at, perhaps we could talk about something else?” Harry suggested.

“Our Calm Colonial boy is right once again,” Mapes said. “We have a day to repair gear.”

“And talk about new radios,” Harry suggested.

“There isn’t anything to talk about,” Mapes said. “I’ve heard the same rumours as you men. However, I haven’t heard anything from the Old Man and I haven’t seen any radios. Other than the 9 in my Spit that quit working entirely the last time I was up.”

 

Later that day, Otis asked Harry to join him and some other airmen to study and review the local ladies and pubs. However, Harry had grown out of the need to wake up with a pounding hangover. He had already had years of partying. Besides, bringing in bullet scarred Spitfires had made the drinking bouts seem very unimportant. His mates, often a year younger or more, still asked him even though he seldom went with them.

An hour after the other pilots had gone into town Harry walked off the base and caught a ride into Ashford. He walked the streets for awhile admiring the buildings and the history.

Occasionally a Junkers 88 would fly across the English Channel very close to the water, start a steep climb to miss the Cliffs of Dover and release a bomb mounted to its belly at the end of that climb. The speed of the bomber combined with the force of the climb would cast that bomb for a very long way and it would land wherever the laws of physics, geology, and aerodynamics might decide and no man could say. On that beautiful day in late August, 1940 a building Harry had admired moments before and at that moment was no more than a block and a half away, disappeared in a cloud of dust, smoke and noise.

Harry Burnside had been flying over Britain for three months. He had been as far as France on a half dozen occasions. He had no idea how many dog fights he had been in but had shot down three Me 109s and crash landed twice. He had landed successfully in Spitfires that probably should have quit flying several minutes before. He had been scared out of his mind on those occasions but had worked his way through it.

That day, on the streets of Ashford, after the completely random bombing of a very historic building, Harry Burnside could not control the choking fear.

Looking around he saw the sign for a pub, the Anvil and Hammer. He stepped through the door and saw ale glasses stacked on the bar. He turned the pint glass over and said to the barman, “Whiskey.”

The barman could see by the look on Harry’s face that discussion might be dangerous. He poured a shot into the ale glass.

“Fill it,” Harry ordered.

The inn keeper complied.

Harry downed the whiskey and noticed only in passing that it was smooth, a single malt.

          He put the glass back down on the bar and said, “Again.”

          Once it was full, he downed the second glass.

          He remembered opening the door to his barrack, but very little after that.

          Much later Otis Tyler returned to find his bunk mate, the man who usually refused to go drinking with his mates, passed out on the floor.

          “Burnside,” he said, as he picked Harry up and placed him on the bunk, “yuh all just like them travelin’ preachers back t’ home; Preachin’ hell fire an’ brimstone then next thing yuh got some farmer’s daughter out behind the tent.”

          And that is how Sergeant Pilot Harold Burnside became known as “Deacon.”

 

 Native Sons in World War One

By D.M. McGowan and K.L. McGowan

© 2018

 

Seventeen native boys left the Upper Peace

The only land they’d known, all in their teens.

They’d all grown up wild out among the trees.

Knew where to find pelts, beaver ponds or streams.

They hunted for their supper, trap or single shot

And only their mothers gave safety a fleeting thought

 

After two hundred years of Scott and Fleur de Lis

They knew some other talk, sometimes two or three,

English, French and German were spoken in the land,

And whatever tongue was spoken by their particular band

Some of them could read and write more than just their name

But the army didn’t care, green privates all the same

 

An amazing great adventure for young trapper men

From freedom of the wild to a Canadian Army pen

Across the land in trains, something never seen.

Mistreated by a Sergeant, but still bright and keen.

Dropped off in camps and marched around a square

“Dig some dirt from here and put it over there.”

 

On the trains again east to Canada’s Maritimes

March down to the docks in perfect double lines

Then up a gangplank to a big steel canoe

Then told to put their kit where you couldn’t fit a shoe

A dozen ships in convoy from the Bedford shore

But count on German U boats sinking two or more.

 

More camp time in England, weeks without the sun

Then finally sent to France to show them how it’s done

Trenches that collapse from rains that never end

Bodies on the wire or sprawled out in no man’s land.

All caked in mud, “Are they ours? Are they theirs?”

Days and weeks of boredom, then terror and despair.

 

 

Vimy Ridge, the Somme or maybe Regina Trench

Maybe English on the left other times the French

High Wood or Kitchener’s, Avion as well

With the Aussies at Gallipoli, some lived to tell

Passchendaele, Arras, knowing each the end

If not for the war, surely for the men

 

Métis, Cree and Dane a total of Seventeen

On a great adventure, young, naive and keen

But the Great War wasn’t a great place to learn

For seventeen go but only two returned.

 

 

 

 

Why Would You Write That CRAP

 

       Why Would You Write That CRAP

Reconstructed Viking Longhouse 

I believe that the building of the Canada that exists today was as exciting as the building of any country in the world. Filled with explorers and builders who had the same human phobias, characteristics and destructive urges as people anywhere and at any time. And those pioneers in whatever field they happened to be pioneering, made some great advancements that in many cases are shared by peoples around the world to the benefit of all.

          However, the recording of, presentation of and acknowledgment of these inventions, developments or improvements by those pioneers are often underplayed and sometimes not acknowledged at all. Sometimes discoveries made by Canadians are attributed to peoples who had nothing to do with this development.

Fort Victoria, Colony of British Columbia, 1864

          In many cases this is the fault of those reporting their findings or those recording and presenting the history. Immigration, growth, construction and industrial developments are written in such a way as to be as exciting as watching grass grow.

Old Fort St. John in 1875

At St. John Post an earlier version of this post situated about a mile away, 3 Hudson's Bay employees where killed during a battle with Dane-zaa (Beaver) warriors in 1824

       

   Exciting? Certainly, it was!

          How many people died while rafting logs down the Ottawa River? For those who survived while poling those logs, it was as exciting as you could possibly get.

          The trappers who found themselves being threatened, assaulted and perhaps shot at by those who considered that particular area to be their trapping area(of ALL races) would have been very excited as would those who were trying to run them off.

          The hundreds of Chinese men who survived the construction of the railroad through the western mountains as dozens of their fellow workers died, would have been very excited by that survival.

Chinese immigrants entering BC

          With my stories I attempt first to entertain. Second, I try to show people building their own small piece of Canada. I try, whenever possible, to include in my stories, pieces of actual history in an attempt to show that it isn’t the history that is boring, it’s the presentation. I feel it’s a double bonus if I can tie two or more historical events together so that the reader can, without memorizing the date, realize the relationship of these developments. In “Homesteader: Finding Sharon” for example, I’ve tried to link the timing of the completion of the railroad to the Crown Land Homestead Act and the beginning of Western agriculture, along with the contributions made by immigrates from south of the border.

Here are some of the items of Canadian development mentioned in specific stories.

Packtrain in Revelstoke 1890

“The Great Liquor War”

Available entertainment --- A prize fight in the town of Rossland

The development of Canadian law enforcement --- The British Columbia Provincial Police and the North West Mounted Police.

A few of the laws in existence in the early days that made the country possible.

The building and completion of the Canadian Pacific Railroad.

CPR workers driving their own "last spike" on the same day as the official ceremony but far to the East near Donald.

“Homesteader: Finding Sharon”

The Homestead Act

The impact of the CPR on Western growth

A small example of the crime the NWMP dealt with including murder and a stage hold-up.

The fact that items designed to be fair and equitable in Ottawa could be anything but, depending on how they were applied in the field.

The ranches of vast acreages  known as “combines” owned by absentee investors/landlords

The devastating winter of 1886/87 which marked the beginning of the end of open range.

 

The ranch of John Ware, undoubtedly the most famous of the black cowboys to settle in Southern Alberta

“Partners”        

The complete disregard for life and particularly indigenous life

The end of the era of the Bison

A small mention of the Blackfeet peoples

The “greatest scout of the west” Jerry Potts.

The “Manifest Destiny” temperament that existed in the southern neighbor

Fenian raids in Eastern Canada

The second British Columbia Policeman to killed on duty, Constable Jack Lawson and the apprehension of the man who shot him.

The town of Barkerville

 

Calgary, District of Alberta, North West Territories, 1885

“The Making of Jake McTavish”

How some became pioneers by accident.

The early Saint Lawrence Seaway

Commercial fishing on Lake Winipeg

Massive livestock deaths during the winter 1886/87

The clean-up of carcasses after that devastating winter.

The development of the small family ranch

The building of branch – line railroads

The policeman who just does enough to get by and the one who does the job

The early existence and lack of recognition of mental trauma

The development of firearms from “cap and ball” to cartridge.

The lack of security within immigration

Calgary, Province of Alberta, 2013

 

“Gunfighters, Thieves and Lawmen”

Some of the changes in rank designation, equipment, command structure and retirement possibilities within the North West Mounted Police.

Early recognition that a red serge coat isn’t bulletproof

The death of Almighty Voice, four Mounted Policemen and a civilian and the wounding of two more policemen and a civism

The building of branch – line railroads

The beginning of early telephone systems.

The shortage of police officers in an exploding population.

The development farm machinery

 

“Boundaries”

The beginnings of organized crime in Briitish Columbia

Valient attempts to police an area larger than the US states of Washington, Oregon and California with two dozen Provincial Policemen, some part time officers and volunteers including responsibilities ranging from mining and land registration to marriage licenses.

The building of the Mountain Section of the Canadian Pacific Railroad.

The importation of Asian workmen for railroad construction

The “off and on” connection and interaction between BC and the western US.

The shortage of employment opportunities for women

The shortage of trained nurses and teachers in BC

The non-existence of inspectors in the early BCPP

The need to make “short term” or “expedient” decisions when there is a shortage of manpower and space for criminal incarceration.

“People of the West: A short story timeline”

Each short story moves us through time from the 1790s to the 1960s. Within each story is a historic event relevant to that time. There are 9 short stories and 14 poems expressing an opinion or feeling or event.

What in Hell would make you think that?

 

IDF soldiers return to northern border

 

There seems to be a serious effort afoot in both Europe and North America to stop the sale of weapons to Israel.

Who is going to stop disrupters, haters and extremists in Iran, Somalia, India, North Korea and China from selling weapons to Hamas thugs, Hezbollah and other Palestinian terrorists?

Hezbollah missile system in Southern Lebanon

Has everyone forgotten that Palestine was a British creation, an attempt to maintain some control in the Middle East and ensure access to the Suez Canal? That Britain was forced by Jewish militants to relinquish control of the area to those it had been taken from centuries before?

That area never was Palestinian. It was British for a time – a very short time in relation to the history of the area – and those directing the British government at the time put some local tribes they thought they could control in charge. However, several years of insurgence, terrorism and strife from the people who had inhabited the area 2000 years earlier, the Jews, convinced them that the cost of maintaining the area under British control and maintaining easy access to their traditional trade routes for spices, drugs and silk was just too expensive. It didn’t help that those they thought were their puppets, the so-called Palestinians they had put in charge, where every bit as troublesome as the Israelis.

It also developed that the original settlers, the Jews, could look after the area better than the British did anyway.

Funeral for IDF soldier 

The State of Israel has proven over and over again that they can manage the area at least as well as any other government can in their area of control and in many cases much better than those other nations. They have also offered the interlopers, the tribes placed there by the British that call themselves Palestinian, an opportunity to participate in that governance.

What became of those attempts to communicate and recognize the needs of other parties?

The USA released Iranian monies which had been frozen and unavailable to Iran due to their terrorist activities. Iran uses that money to fund terrorists and thugs sighting the need to “support Islam”, actions for which, if the writings are to be believed, Mohamed would condemn the whole lot. Having been defeated a half dozen times, the “Palestinians”, or more accurately, Gaza Insurgents, attack Israel on a Holy Day, killing and kidnapping primarily non-combatants.

Japan was condemned for a similar sneak attack December 7^th, 1941. Is it suddenly alright because Vladimir Putin did it to the Ukraine and then some ungrateful immigrants did it to Israel?

Refusing Israel access to weapons is the way to make the area safe? What in hell would make you think that?

Some things happening in the world can be upsetting. However, entertainment can go a long way to releasing the stress caused by events in the world. Some of that entertainment is available in audio at 

https://www.amazon.com/Audible-People-West-short-story-timeline-ebook/dp/B0CRLQZVK7?ref 

OR

https://www.amazon.com/Audible-Partners-David-M-McGowan-ebook/dp/B0CRN86F97/

The Great Liquor War trailer on YouTube

 Grady MacTavish and the crew at MacWood Productions, with some background from Dawson Creek's "Walter Wright Pioneer Village" put together a book trailer for my oldest published novel and here it is. Grady wrote a narration script for me to read and I see it as a good production that explains the basics of the story.

The story/novel in question is "The Great Liquor War" but the sequel to it, "Homesteader: Finding Sharon" is also available as an audio.

I'm also recording "Partners" - should be available by mid-June and "Wester People: A Short Story Timeline", hopefully available by July 15, 2024.

I had this done to kick off the audio version. Yes, it is the oldest published novel, but it has only recently been released as an audio - narrated by the author. Apparently there are many listeners of audio novels out there including a bunch of commercial drivers, a group that I was part of for twenty two years before I retired.

Yes, I write novels, usually with some actual history within the pages, but the most important part of any story I write is entertainment.

Enjoy!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DRSN9Ys3eJs 

Mister Spock, logic has died.

I can't get over anyone having the gall to make these claims and the stupidity of Canadians to suck this crap in.

It's no wonder people (well, 30% anyway) have been accepting the actions of the Federal Liberal party and voting for them. After listening to the twisted logic of Hamas Justine aTruedope might even sound logical.

The Palastinians launched a sneaky, no-warning attack on non-,military targets and killed a couple of thousand people and it's Israel's fault.

??????????

Where are the umpires?

Where is the Geneva Convention?

The world has come to know that the UN is an ineffective waste of money, but surely they can at least make some noise. 

Beam me up Mister Spock. Logic has died.