Maurice White didn’ t think he’ d last longer than 12 days when he entered the Second World War in Sicily-a long way from his home in Grassland.
Maurice White didn’ t think he’ d last longer than 12 days when he entered the Second World War in Sicily-a long way from his home in Grassland.
“Why 12 days, I have no idea,” the now 91-year-old told the POST last week, after the veteran was awarded one of North America’ s most prestigious awards. “But when that twelfth day went by, I thought, ‘OK, I’ m here for the whole works.’ ”
Months later, the man who had been until just recently a farmhand in Grassland, was recruited into an elite and top-secret First Special Service Force, a Canadian-American unit better known as the Devil’ s Brigade.
His original plan wasn't to join the Devil’ s Brigade. When he, his father and his older brother left Grassland in 1941, they intended to join the Air Force.
White was only 17 years old at the time. The Air Force recruiters told him to come back when he was older, but instead he just strolled over to where the Army was recruiting.
“The officer there asked me how old I was and I told him 18,” White said. “He asked me what year I was born and I told him 1925. I didn’ t really do the math right.”
The recruiter just smiled and went along with it, and White was accepted for training.
It took another year before White traveled overseas with the Loyal Edmonton Regiment to join the Canadian campaign in Sicily. Once there, it started to sink in just how far he was from the family farm.
“Everything is an eye-opener when you come from a town like Grassland,” he said. The training he’ d been given only prepared him so much, he added. “It was very, very scary. You do all these drills and training, but you don’ t have bullets firing at you when you’ re in training. Every day, it just kept getting harder and harder.”
White volunteered to join the Devil’ s Brigade two months after he and his Loyal Edmonton comrades survived one of the hardest-fought battles of the entire war in Europe: the Battle of Ortona.
“I always felt the regiment should have been awarded something for that,” White said. “We lost more men in Ortona, just in the town itself, than the Canadians lost in Afghanistan in the 12 years they were there.”
He volunteered to join the up-start Devil’ s Brigade while in an Italian hospital recovering from a bout of malaria. Someone came looking for willing recruits, and White put up his hand.
The Devil’ s Brigade was a commando unit that gained a reputation for covert operations behind enemy lines. Their faces often smeared with black boot polish, the unit’ s members were a thorn in the German military’ s side until the force was disbanded in 1944. According to legend, the unit’ s name comes from a German soldier’ s diary that references “Black Devils” in the night.
He says the switch from an open regiment to an elite unit with secret missions and a reputation as being almost supernatural didn’ t register at the time. It was a job to do in a scary time.
“You’ re always so frightened, you don’ t think of those things at the time,” he said. “You just do what you’ re told to do and do it well. You’ re a soldier.”
White’ s first combat experience with the Brigade was on Port-Cros, a German-held island south of France. White’ s company could only move at night, and the only way into the island’ s fort was “a great big front door, where they were always waiting for you.” It took bombardments from the sea and the air to breach the defenses.
The Brigade was formally disbanded in southern France in December 1944. After years of combat, returning to Alberta felt “very, very nice,” White says.
“I didn’ t think I ever was going to get back,” he said. “I spent almost two years on frontline duty and was in many, many battles but I never got a scratch.”
There were close calls, though.
“People do have premonitions in battle,” White said. “In Ortona, I was standing with my back against a wall, looking out a window. It was just like someone pulled me out of the way. I just moved and then there was a burst of machinegun fire. I’ d have had about ten bullets in my chest. I don’ t really know how to explain something like that. You just feel like someone grabbed you and pulled you out of the way.”
All these years later, White is very modest about his service and his sacrifice. He didn’ t join just because he’ s a patriotic soul, he says. In a practical sense, he saw it as a job to do - and back in those days, it was a job that paid. The economic climate in Alberta wasn’ t the friendliest, and being a soldier in wartime meant constant, gainful employment, he said.
“We had to get some income from somewhere,” White told the POST. “There was no absolutely no work anywhere, so each of us would send some of our pay home to support the rest of the family.”
Last week, more than 70 years after the elite force disbanded, White and the surviving members of the unit received the Congressional Gold Medal from the American government in a special ceremony in Washington.
“It’ s hard to describe how proud we feel,” White told the POST, “and how thankful we are that we could be there for the boys who couldn’ t. Some of us have passed on; some are still over in other countries. That’ s why (the medal) went to the unit. We accepted the honour for them.”
In the time since the Second World War came to an end, the Devil’ s Brigade has received honours from both the Canadian and American governments, but last week’ s Congressional Gold Medal is the highest so far. The recognition from Canada’ s government has been sparing, White says.
On both sides of the border, though, more and more people are realizing what he and his comrades did and what the war was like, he says.
“Finally, after all these years, our children are starting to learn what we went through,” he said.
The Congressional Gold Medal is one of the highest civilian honours that can be awarded in the United States.
