Sing Me to Sleep

I am so grateful that I have been able to stretch this whole "treasure box" business out over three days because when I woke up this morning, the last thing I wanted to do was to write a blog post. But, then I was like:

Oh yeah! My great granddaddy, William, is covering for me today. 

Gosh darn it, I am really beginning to like this fellow!

 It is very fitting too that the title of his poem, which happens to be my favourite and has caused me to tear up a few times (hello . .. pregnancy!), is titled "Sing Me to Sleep" because sleep is all I want to do today. You see, Baby Girl got me hooked on the series "How I Met Your Mother", and I kind of stayed up late last night waiting for Mr. Level-Headed to return home from class and watched like a gazillion episodes. Why did I not know about this series sooner? It is hilarious! Seriously, I am not a huge fan of comedies, but this one had me laughing out loud with tears streaming down my cheeks. I am not kidding! Then, to top it all off, my not-so-little munchkins had woken up yesterday morning at a whomping 5am, which meant my day started way too early. It was also sunny yesterday so I felt like I had to really make the most of it; therefore, we went for huge walk and took the dog swimming. Also, yesterday happened to be one of those oh-wow-I-feel-great-today kind of days and I guess you could say I overdid it. I did school with the boys, which was no small feat since Mr. Man was off in la la land all day, I baked two desserts for a local fundraiser in support of my friend's Relay for Life team (which we sadly can't take part in this year), I made a chili for supper, I cleaned up the house, and then finally, the boys and I went to the chapel to help decorate for a youth dance our church is hosting this weekend. It was a great day! I felt like me again and not zombie mama, but now I am definitely paying for it. So, with my boys still sleeping and this foggy, rainy morning dampening any desire I may have had to take on the day, I will finally present to you William John Ring's "Sing Me to Sleep", and then I will crawl back into my big comfy bed with a warm cup of peppermint tea and I will give my boys, who just happen to be sleeping in my bed, a great big squeeze.

Sing Me to Sleep

by

William John Ring

Sing me to sleep where bullets fall,

Let me forget the war and all.

Damp is my dug out, cold my feet.

Naught but bully beef and biscuit to eat

And shrapnel and shells are a la mode.

Sing me to sleep where bombs explode.

Over the sandbags, helmets you find

Bodies in front of you, bodies behind.

Far, far away from Ypres I long to be

Where German snipers can't get at me.

Think of me crouching where the worms creep,

Waiting for someone to sing me to sleep.

Sing me to sleep in some old shed,

The rats are running around my head.

Stretched out upon my waterproof

Dodging the raindrops through the roof.

Sing me to sleep where camp fires shine,

Sticky with muck but never a whine,

Dreaming of home and nights in the West

Somebody's overseas boots on my chest.

Far from the star shells I long to be.

Lights of old King Street I'd rather see.

Think of me crouching where the worms creep,

Waiting for someone to sing me to sleep.

Spending this week poring over my great grandfather's treasures has strengthened my belief that families are indeed the greatest treasures we have. It is humbling to think that the actions of a man I barely knew, who lived one hundred years ago and who was in such close proximity to death for five years of his young life, played an important role in creating me. Without him or any one of the members of my family, "I", as I look and act today, would not exist. Think about it. Every single member of your family (and I am talking about over thousands of years), every choice they made, and every action they took, in some way helped shaped who you are today.Wow! I am so grateful for my family, and I am grateful for all their stories and their treasures that have managed to trickle down into my possession and have helped me to better understand who I am and to better appreciate what an amazing legacy we are all creating together. It may not be a legacy of fame, wealth or power, but it is a legacy of people, people leading seemingly "ordinary" lives with extraordinary eternal significance. Families are forever, and I am so grateful to be a part of this one.

Finding Treasure in a Modest, Brown Wooden Box

Going through my great grandfather's "treasure" box was humbling for me, and very exciting for my kids. Avery could not contain his excitement as he impatiently waited for my father to work his way down to the bottom. From the look on his face, I knew he felt like he was on a treasure hunt and that he had visions of finding                                                    something valuable and something dangerous like a bejewelled sword or an early WWI gun. Inside this modest, brown wooden box, however, were treasures that an old man could not bear to part with, treasures that have very little monetary worth but are priceless to a man who wants to show the world that he was here and priceless to his family that want to know more about his story. As I go through William John Ring's box, I can't help but feel like I am glimpsing into the heart of a man I barely knew and that  by opening this box, I am entering a very private, meaningful space.

Throughout my life, I have heard snippets about Bill's life, and I have a few faint memories of him, but by the time I came along he was a very frail man, confined in a wheelchair. I know he and his brothers owned a boat yard in the North End, and his treasure box is filled with receipts for boats he bought and sold. I also know that he married a woman named Minnie and they had three daughters and one son. Minnie had contracted polio at some point in her life, which weakened her legs. One of the most touching stories I have heard about Bill, along with the belt story I told yesterday, is that he strategically placed wooden pegs on the walls of their home so that Minnie could lean on them and move around. From what I gather, William John Ring was a quiet man. It sounds like he loved his wife, his daughters and his grandchildren. He was a sailor, a speed skater, and, as I just recently discovered, a poet. I pray that someday I will have the opportunity to sit down and talk to my great grandfather when my journey here on earth is through, but for now, I will continue to piece together who this man was through the stories I hear and the "treasures" he left behind.

Some of the mementos this "treasure" box holds include his army issued comb, mirror, and straight razor, which the boys loved! We also found coins in a change purse from Germany and France. There were two pocket watches, one of which dad and Zoe were able to get working again, pocket knives, buttons from his uniform, and a few medals and ribbons.

Baby Girl's favourite "treasure" is a tiny catalogue for men's suits. After examining Bill and Minnie's wedding certificate, Zoe discovered they were married in 1920 and since the catalogue was dated the same year, she surmised that this is the catalogue he used to order his suit from for the wedding. She thought it was adorable that he kept it!

The treasure box also holds a ton of photos from the war, and it is interesting to note that most of these pictures are from the beginning of the war, probably from a time when Bill felt most optimistic and slightly excited about the adventures his teenage self was about to embark upon.

William John Ring in his uniform, or at least we thought so until about an hour ago . . .  tee hee! We assumed this was my great grandfather because of the ears and the shape of his face (c0mpare with older photo), but upon closer inspection of the soldier in this photo, my father realized that this man's uniform has sergeant stripes, and Bill was only a private. So, here is a photo of a young, nameless soldier, who resembles Bill, and who was clearly important to him because his picture was placed in the "treasure" box:

Folks, I think we can learn a valuable lesson from this. First, a writer should always double check their "facts" and second, everyone should write names on the back of their photos. Seriously! Go do it now!

I don't know, though, I really think this may be Bill. Not only are the ears and the shape of his face the same, but look at the nose . . . hmmmm. Clearly, I need to do a little more investigating.

Anyhoo . . .

My great grandfather and the other Canadian soldiers travelled on a ship called the Caledonia to get oversees. He belonged to the 26th Battalion. According to a Christmas card we found that was Army issued and the soldiers sent home to their families, the 26th Battalion fought in the Battles of Ypres, Kemmel, St. Eloi, and La Somme:

This photo reads: "on the hurricane deck watching for submarines"

Here they are posing with a machine gun. The photo reads: "ready for action!"

This is the torpedo boat, The Princess Alice, that escorted them into Plymouth:

This is a picture of the men lined up to "shower" on deck. My boys love this picture because of the naked guy under the tarp . . . tee hee!

This is a training ship the Caledonia docked beside as they entered Plymouth. Look at how many soldiers are on deck!

These pictures are of Dover Beach:

This is the train that took the 26th Battalion to East Sandling Camp:

This photo reads: "my comrade in battle"

Since this post is already quite long and my boys are starting to tear the house apart, I am going to have to save my favourite poem for tomorrow. Yes, I am annoying like that, but I will leave you with the final stanza of a poem titled "A Sailor's Prayer". Unfortunately, the paper this poem was written on is very worn and water-stained; therefore, I can not make out most of the poem. Thankfully, though, the last stanza is clear as day, and I think it is a fitting end to this post because it shows a dramatic change has occurred in the young soldier, William John Ring. Where the pictures suggest a naive teenage boy enjoying his first journey oversees with other equally naive young men, who are eager for their first taste of battle; the poem, on the other hand, gives us a glimpse into the mind of a frightened, young man who is worn out, probably very dirty and hungry, and wants nothing more than to get home.

A Sailor's Prayer

by William John Ring

Take me back into the land

Where they don't scrub down with sand,

Where no demon typhoon blows,

Where the women wash the clothes.

God thou knowest all our woes,

Feed me in my dying throes.

Take me back - I'll promise then

Never to leave home again.

Of all the stories of his I have heard and the momentos of his that I have held, nothing has given me a better glimpse into the heart of my great grandfather like his poems have, and for this, I would have to say that these poems are indeed the treasure buried at the bottom of a modest, brown wooden box.

Lest We Forget

Baby Girl spent the weekend doing a project on the Battle of Ypres for her Social Studies class. The assignment was to pick a battle from either WWI or WWII, and Zoe immediately knew which one she wanted to do. It sounds funny for a fifteen year old girl to have a favourite battle, but if you asked any member of my family what battle interests them the most they would probably all respond the same way - The Battle of Ypres. Our fascination with this battle derives from the fact that my father  holds in his possession a belt that his grandfather, William John Ring, always wore, but rarely talked about. This is no ordinary belt. This is a German belt, and it is a belt William, or Bill as he was known, acquired almost one hundred years ago in one of the trenches of Ypres. According to the story, somehow my great, grandfather, Bill ended up in a trench with a dying German soldier. I assume the battle must have ended, and the German soldier asked Bill for a cigarette. My great grandfather gave him one, and there they sat together, quiet because they did not speak the same language, and probably pretty solemn since these were the dying soldier's last few minutes of mortality.This image has always touched me because unlike all the black and white footage we see of bombs going off and guns being fired, this image is remarkably human. They were just two young men, supposed "enemies" now sharing a trench, shaken up from the horrors of the day, smoking a cigarette together. It pleases me to know that my great grandfather did not lose his compassion in the war, and it pleases me to no end that he made this dying German soldier's last few minutes on earth a little more comfortable. After the soldier died, my grandfather took his belt, carved on it "1914" and "Ypres", and then proceeded to wear this belt for the rest of his life. Bill knew that this battle was one of those significant moments in his life, and he never wanted to forget it. Why did he feel it was so significant? I will probably never know the answer to this, but I like to think that it is because this was the day, the battle, that my great grandfather, William John Ring, decided that no matter what horrors the war inflicted upon him, he would not allow them to rob him of his humanity.

My great grandfather, Bill

His belt. The belt buckle when translated reads: God is with us.

The engraving - 1914 Ypres

On Sunday night, when the kids and I went to visit my father to pick up the belt for Zoe's presentation, we were thrilled to discover that not only did my dad have the belt in his possession, but after his own mother had died a couple of years ago, he was given a box that his grandfather, Bill, stored his most treasured possessions in. My kids were giddy with excitement! Inside we found tons of war memorabilia, pictures, documents, ribbons, medals, and one of the greatest treasures of all, some poetry he wrote during his time at war, which happened to be the entire war (1914-1919). Poetry! I never knew my great grandfather was a writer. How cool is that?

If you would like to read more about my great grandfather, William Ring, and the treasures we found in his box, check out these posts:

Finding Treasure in a Modest Brown Box

and

Sing Me to Sleep

Happy Remembrance Day!