We’re often influenced by people from different walks of life. By men and women we respect, admire and look up to.
This is the story of one such person.
He was born to Raymond and Mary Windsor on the 29th November 1918 into a world recovering from a great war that had ended eighteen days before. He grew up in Tilt Cove near St. John’s, Newfoundland in an environment where mining was the lifeblood of the community and miners were at its core.
This man’s family moved to Montreal when he was still a boy and he and his brother would eventually leave for the far north to pursue a lumberjack’s life and run a small farm in northern Ontario.
The wanderlust in this man was ever-present. The desire to follow an opportunity, have an adventure, chase a dream. In his early twenties, this would manifest itself with the ultimate sacrifice and lead him away from his peaceful Canadian homeland to a region viciously tearing itself apart.
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His attestation papers for the Canadian Army. Photo credit: Mrs Joan Windsor |
An expat for country and for love
On the 20th June 1941, he enlisted with the Royal Canadian Engineers. Trained as a sapper, his role was to perform military engineering duties such as bridge-building, demolitions, field defence and general construction. He remained in Canada for three months before shipping out to the United Kingdom. Final destination: Continental Europe.
He served for 54 months during the height of the Second World War. He served in the UK, in France, in Belgium, Holland and Germany. He was awarded several medals for his actions but he wasn’t an entirely ‘model’ soldier, his military papers revealing an occasionally disobedient side that would cost him forfeiture of pay and allowances for relatively minor offences.
While serving in the UK, he was biletted to stay at a house in the small southern English town of Basingstoke. It was there that he met little Joan Tarr Davies, a shy Welshwoman and the daughter of his wartime hosts. The pair were soon smitten with each other and, on the 8th April 1944, they married.
Not long after, she fell pregnant with twins and the young family set sail on the Queen Mary for Montreal in 1945. Joan was now one of thousands of war brides leaving England for Canada, with her twins swaddled in Moses baskets close by. They lived with his parents in Montreal but Joan suffered bouts of homesickness and the family returned to the UK. For the second time, this man became an expat – the first time for his country, the second time out of love for his wife.
They would emigrate to Canada eight years later to support his father when his mother died but, again, returned to England after several years. Unselfishly, this man gave up his home for the third time and he would never see the Great White North again.
A life cut short
This Canadian expat who had fought abroad for his country before finding love on the British Isles developed an aggressive form of cancer and died in May 1972, still in the prime of his life and leaving behind a grief-stricken wife and three heartbroken daughters. He never met his grandchildren, the first who was born just two years after his death.
He was a man who followed his heart and made serious decisions that would affect the entire course of his life. He stood by those decisions, from enlisting in the army to marrying the love of his life in a foreign country, and he stayed the course in a country not his own during a long post-war period of uncertainty and unease.
He was a family man first and foremost. He may have missed his home, his own people, his Canadian family, but his priority was his immediate family and he embraced his new home and the British way of life as if they had always been his own.
His untimely death was tragic and unfair and, on that day in May 1972, a bright and beautiful Canadian light was extinguished.
His enduring influence
This man is a stranger to me and my biggest regret is never knowing him.
In the remaining black and white photos of him, I can see that we share a likeness in our height, some similarities in our faces, and possibly a seriousness in our attitude. I believe we also share something more profound. We share a particular outlook on life.
A love of adventure, a desire to take life by the horns and shake it hard to discover what falls out, decisions made by the heart over the mind.
We share a passion for Canada. I moved there seeking opportunity and adventure, exploring the country as he had and treading in the faint ripples of his wake. I am deeply connected to the country of his birth, yet like him I also hold dear to the love of my homeland.
We both gave up our homes for love yet gained infinitely more in the process. I married my lady from a far flung land and I adopted her home as my own. There was no backdrop of war, of devastation and crippling loss, but the decision had serious consequences and was made entirely out of our feelings for each other.
We share an outlook on the world around us. Both rebellious towards authority, above all we believe in right over wrong, fair before unjust. It guided him in his choices and it underlines everything I do.
I think he’d be proud of me. Proud that I didn’t sit still. Proud that I followed my dreams, that I came to his country and sought to understand more. Proud that I met my true love and committed to her, stood by her, and made her own home my own.
Yet, in all this, he continues to sit at the periphery of my vision. He is always out of reach, unfocused, not clearly defined. This is the way of things and this is the way it will always be. The sad reality is that he’s long gone even though he remains an important figure in my life and his influence is apparent in all that I’ve done.
For his full and wholesome life, the ultimate sacrifice for his country and the love of his wife, his strength of character, and his big ole Canadian heart, this tall and well-built man from the far reaches of Canada is for me the greatest expat of them all.
His name was Victor Gordon Windsor. This man was my grandfather.
Who or what have been the major influences in your life? Did someone or something trigger your own expat / travel / life journey?
I really liked this post – I was racing through, eager to confirm my hunch that this inspirational character was related to you in some way and you kept doling out the clues, one by one, but held the answer back until the last line. Brilliant!
I don’t really have an influence like you and nothing has driven me to take the path I have in life. My story is born from a willingness to just “go for it” and a knowledge of what I DIDN’T want
I remember both my parents complaining about the burden of expectation from their parents and society. Both felt constrained by decisions they made at the instigation of others. If anything, I guess that taught me not to let anyone or anything dictate the way I live my life. Exposure to the expat experience as a child made me resourceful and unafraid of trying new things and so I’ve led a very different life from all of my family. I hope it gives my children the courage to blaze their own trail too.
What a poignant, touching tribute to the grandfather you never met. Seriously among your very, very best. Just lovely.
Hi Russell, always follow your posts but this one was so close to my experience I felt compelled to comment! I knew immediately that it was your grandfather! In my case it was my grandmother and her life journey slightly different but it did start in Canada, through California and then Scotland. And I was very lucky to have known her. She continues to be a huge influence on my life many years after she left this world. Thank you for sharing, really reminds me of my roots and my inspiration as to why I have explored the world and found myself here too! Caroline
Lovely. Just like an episode of ‘Who Do You Think You Are?’
Funny that I only watched that a couple of nights ago. The one with Seb Coe. It must have inspired me 😉
Thank you. That’s lovely praise. I do hope the piece does him some justice. I hear from others that he was a very special man.
Hi Caroline, thanks for your comment. Lovely to hear from you. You’re lucky to have known your grandmother – I bet she had some fabulous stories to tell.
I’m not kidding but the expats of old were seriously brave souls. They generally set off on a one-way journey, had little or no contact with their former home(s), and rarely returned. A very different situation to nowadays so we are fortunate in many respects. Like her, do you plan further moves or is this it?
I guess it wasn’t much of a surprise in the end as the clues were mounting up but I wanted to show my grandfather up front as a regular guy doing extraordinary things. I’m pleased you liked it.
Sometimes knowing what you don’t want/like is as important as knowing what you do. You learn from your mistakes and those of others, you tweak and refine based on experience, and you pick and choose what you want out of life (if you’re able to or fortunate enough to have the freedom to do so). I think your children will have piles of courage, support and love to blaze many trails – and you’ll probably be hot on their heels! Thanks again.
A very moving and beautifully written piece Russell – it touched my heart (and yes I did well up!). Your grandfather’s story is very inspiring to me, thank you for sharing it (and it seems to have been quite timely for me to read it).
Nice story! It is great that you know so much about your grandfather and his life even if you did not get the chance to meet him… For my part, love triggered my own expat to Sweden very recently 🙂
Very touching and inspiring story! Me too love made me travel the world… I am now living in Argentina.
Thanks Sabine. Hope you’re enjoying love and life in Argentina.
Obviously I learned about him from immediate family but I also spent a bit of time researching his war records and history, and speaking with Canadian relatives, so I have a fairly good picture of him. I hope your move to Sweden is going well.
Thanks Carrie. I’m pleased you enjoyed it. It is an inspirational story and, to this day, I’m still in awe of the decisions and sacrifices he made during those times. What I wouldn’t give for five minutes with him…
Loved this, I loved the fast paced writing style, the passion that showed through, and the way you connected yourself to him. I share this urge to see the connections between me and my ancestors (near and far in generations). I love the narratove that we can find in our ancestors information, and although you will know a lot of your grandfather’s story from other living relatives, we can fill in the blanks when we find the connections between us and them by thinking ‘what would I have felt in that situation?’ Great post, great idea.
As far as my influences? My dad probably is the biggest, always encouraging a world view and a wanderlust to see what’s down the next road. and probably my grandparents as well who often took me on the road with them, caravaning around the States when I was young.
I look forward to seeing a post on your ancestors in the future then 😉 I found it to be a great way of re-connecting with him – and setting the scene for my own moves. Glad you liked it.