Article & Images Submitted by Jennifer Shelby, Local Author and CAC Storyteller
2026 marks the Royal Canadian Legion’s centenary year. Founded in 1925, the Legion brought various Veterans groups that were created following WWl under one umbrella, and incorporated in July of 1926 as the Canadian Legion of the British Empire Service League.
This incorporation was more than just a formality; it allowed the Legion to expand support to Veterans, establish branches, advocate for the rights of Veterans, and take a leading role in Remembrance services.
This incorporation was more than just a formality; it allowed the Legion to expand support to Veterans, establish branches, advocate for the rights of Veterans, and take a leading role in Remembrance services.
Albert County Royal Canadian Legion Members (left to right) Peter Jubb, Barbara Haire (Chaplain), Kim Langer (Treasurer), and Rick Langer (President) For the Albert County Royal Canadian Legion, remembering is a longstanding tradition. As they planned their own 100th anniversary celebration to coincide with Canada Day, residents were invited to view displays highlighting Albert County’s role in multiple conflicts, and attend a special storytelling event, followed by an afternoon of fun and music. Legion members dressed in their best 1920’s garb as a nod to the Legion’s beginnings.
Photo of Wren Chief Petty Officer Irene Carter as she appears in the HMCS Coverdale display. Irene Carter and the HMCS Coverdale
The displays contained framed newspapers, retired weapons, and samples of rations from different decades. Quilts of Valor and tokens from recent conflicts mingled with historical artifacts.
“I don’t want you to miss this part,” Rick Langer, President of the Albert County Royal Canadian Legion, told me, leading me to a folded poster board. “This is one of the most significant events to have happened in Albert County.”
The display was dedicated to Irene Carter, who served as a Wren Chief Petty Officer during WWII. A Wren was a woman serving in the Women’s Royal Canadian Naval Service (WRCNS) during WWII.
“There used to be a Naval Radio Station in the flat, wetland area here,” said Rick, gesturing to the map of an area near Point Park in Riverview. “The HMCS (His Majesty’s Canadian Ship) Coverdale.”
At the HMCS Coverdale, Wren Chief Petty Officer Irene Carter had some two hundred Wrens working under her. This station was one of a chain of stations that listened for the wireless signals which allowed their operators to get a fix on enemy submarines as well as aiding the rescue of life rafts and downed aircraft.
“Because of the flat ground and the water, they found that sounds carried very well,” Rick explained.
On April 30th, 1945, Wren Chief Petty Officer Irene Carter intercepted a broadcast from German Admiral Karl Doenitz to the German forces advising them that their leader had died. “This is significant because Irene Carter was the first Allied person to learn that Hitler had died,” explained Rick. “And that happened right here in Albert County.”
The HMCS Coverdale station was closed in 1971 and Irene Carter passed away as Irene Mclean in 2006, but thanks to people like Rick Langer and the Albert County Royal Canadian Legion, their story lives on.
The displays contained framed newspapers, retired weapons, and samples of rations from different decades. Quilts of Valor and tokens from recent conflicts mingled with historical artifacts.
“I don’t want you to miss this part,” Rick Langer, President of the Albert County Royal Canadian Legion, told me, leading me to a folded poster board. “This is one of the most significant events to have happened in Albert County.”
The display was dedicated to Irene Carter, who served as a Wren Chief Petty Officer during WWII. A Wren was a woman serving in the Women’s Royal Canadian Naval Service (WRCNS) during WWII.
“There used to be a Naval Radio Station in the flat, wetland area here,” said Rick, gesturing to the map of an area near Point Park in Riverview. “The HMCS (His Majesty’s Canadian Ship) Coverdale.”
At the HMCS Coverdale, Wren Chief Petty Officer Irene Carter had some two hundred Wrens working under her. This station was one of a chain of stations that listened for the wireless signals which allowed their operators to get a fix on enemy submarines as well as aiding the rescue of life rafts and downed aircraft.
“Because of the flat ground and the water, they found that sounds carried very well,” Rick explained.
On April 30th, 1945, Wren Chief Petty Officer Irene Carter intercepted a broadcast from German Admiral Karl Doenitz to the German forces advising them that their leader had died. “This is significant because Irene Carter was the first Allied person to learn that Hitler had died,” explained Rick. “And that happened right here in Albert County.”
The HMCS Coverdale station was closed in 1971 and Irene Carter passed away as Irene Mclean in 2006, but thanks to people like Rick Langer and the Albert County Royal Canadian Legion, their story lives on.
Linda Fullerton holding the handwritten letter Keith "Buster" Steeves wrote before landing on Juno Beach on D-Day Keith “Buster” Steeves
From there, Rick escorted me into a different area of the Legion, where two more tables, heavy with photos and memorabilia awaited. “This is where the storytelling event will be,” he tells me.
A few things on the table stand out. There’s a tiny jar of sand from Juno Beach, some medals, photos of soldiers I don’t know. Books, and binders filled with hand written pages. I don’t understand their significance at first, but as Linda Fullerton begins to tell the story of her Uncle Buster, Edgett Landing’s Lieutenant Keith Lynn Steeves of the 27th Canadian Armoured Regiment Sherbrooke Fusiliers, I learn that they’re letters from WWII.
“We found the letters in a tin box in the attic. We opened it up and couldn’t believe it,” Linda explained.
Sent from Buster to his mother, the letters are a first-person account of significant events in Canadian history. “This one he wrote before landing on Juno Beach on D-Day,” Linda revealed, shaking her head at the wonder of it. “I think they were all encouraged to write home, you know, just in case.” She read the letter to the crowd.
CAO 6 June 1944
Dear Mum,
This will only be a short note, but if you receive it will be rather a good souvenir. At the present time we are just coming in sight of the European coast on the invasion morning. It’s getting noisier every minute and I presume our aircraft are giving the coast defences hell.
Been an awfully rough time coming over but thank God all my men are in the best of spirits and ready to go. I know they are all scared and I am too but nobody will ever know certainly not the Germans.
I suppose in a few hours from now the news will be broadcast all over the world.
It’s almost seven in the morning and we’re due to land in an hour and a half.
I can’t tell you how proud I am to be among those picked to make the first landing but we all feel the same and I know you’ll be proud of me too.
Well dear will have to go and see if my man are O.K. Don’t worry about me and just watch the Jerries go back to Berlin. Will write as soon as I have a chance and in the meantime I’ll say so long to the dearest mother in the world.
God bless you dear,
All my love,
Bus.
From there, Rick escorted me into a different area of the Legion, where two more tables, heavy with photos and memorabilia awaited. “This is where the storytelling event will be,” he tells me.
A few things on the table stand out. There’s a tiny jar of sand from Juno Beach, some medals, photos of soldiers I don’t know. Books, and binders filled with hand written pages. I don’t understand their significance at first, but as Linda Fullerton begins to tell the story of her Uncle Buster, Edgett Landing’s Lieutenant Keith Lynn Steeves of the 27th Canadian Armoured Regiment Sherbrooke Fusiliers, I learn that they’re letters from WWII.
“We found the letters in a tin box in the attic. We opened it up and couldn’t believe it,” Linda explained.
Sent from Buster to his mother, the letters are a first-person account of significant events in Canadian history. “This one he wrote before landing on Juno Beach on D-Day,” Linda revealed, shaking her head at the wonder of it. “I think they were all encouraged to write home, you know, just in case.” She read the letter to the crowd.
CAO 6 June 1944
Dear Mum,
This will only be a short note, but if you receive it will be rather a good souvenir. At the present time we are just coming in sight of the European coast on the invasion morning. It’s getting noisier every minute and I presume our aircraft are giving the coast defences hell.
Been an awfully rough time coming over but thank God all my men are in the best of spirits and ready to go. I know they are all scared and I am too but nobody will ever know certainly not the Germans.
I suppose in a few hours from now the news will be broadcast all over the world.
It’s almost seven in the morning and we’re due to land in an hour and a half.
I can’t tell you how proud I am to be among those picked to make the first landing but we all feel the same and I know you’ll be proud of me too.
Well dear will have to go and see if my man are O.K. Don’t worry about me and just watch the Jerries go back to Berlin. Will write as soon as I have a chance and in the meantime I’ll say so long to the dearest mother in the world.
God bless you dear,
All my love,
Bus.
Close up of one of Buster's wartime letters sent to his Mother in Edgett's Landing. Lieutenant Steeves survived the landing, and history tells us that his regiment successfully brought 63 tanks and 805 troops ashore on D-Day.
“He assumed command of one of the tanks within the Sherbrooke Fusiliers,” Linda continued, showing the group a map of the area. “As Allied tanks advanced toward the German lines believing they were undetected, several German tanks surprised them, opening fire.”
Uncle Buster’s tank was struck on June 7th. He writes about what happened in a later letter:
My tank was hit by a heavy shell. It came through the side of the turret and when it ricocheted a piece of the shrapnel hit me just above the left ear. I guess it knocked me out and only the pain of the flames when the tank caught fire brought me around. I was pretty badly burned by then and had a heck of a job crawling out. I knew the Jerry would be machine gunning the tank so I just rolled off the top and fell to the ground.
My clothes were all on fire and I rolled around for what seemed like hours trying to get them out. I began to realize that I’d burn to death if I didn’t get them out soon so I took a chance in standing up and took them all off. I had a box of morphine injections in my tunic which I managed to get a hold of and shoved one of them in my arm.
By that time my driver and gunner crawled over to where I was (my wireless operator had been killed by the shell). and as the morphine eased the pain I began to realize that we were in a jam. Three of us all badly hurt, four miles in front of our main body and medical aid and the Germans between ourselves and our regiment and all around us besides.
I decided we’d better start right away so we began, sometimes crawling, sometimes on our hands and knees, sometimes running, and believe me, Mom. That was four miles of hell. We sneaked through the German patrols and snipers and once we had to lie in a ditch for a half an hour while the area was being shelled. On top of it all, I didn’t have a map, and the roads were all strange, but I finally got us back and when I got to our own M.O. I didn’t give a damn anymore. They fixed us up a bit and they finally took me to the dressing station on the beach.
By that time I was blind… Here Linda took a moment to explain, “you know when you get burned, that serum that comes out of your body, well his eyes and everything were all burned, so they were glued shut with the serum.”
…but I remember laying there all night with enemy planes bombing the hell out of us. Finally I passed out and I laid there unconscious for three days.
“I believe that the people checking the bodies thought he was dead so he just laid there for three days before they realized he was still alive. I think,” said Linda solemnly.
“He assumed command of one of the tanks within the Sherbrooke Fusiliers,” Linda continued, showing the group a map of the area. “As Allied tanks advanced toward the German lines believing they were undetected, several German tanks surprised them, opening fire.”
Uncle Buster’s tank was struck on June 7th. He writes about what happened in a later letter:
My tank was hit by a heavy shell. It came through the side of the turret and when it ricocheted a piece of the shrapnel hit me just above the left ear. I guess it knocked me out and only the pain of the flames when the tank caught fire brought me around. I was pretty badly burned by then and had a heck of a job crawling out. I knew the Jerry would be machine gunning the tank so I just rolled off the top and fell to the ground.
My clothes were all on fire and I rolled around for what seemed like hours trying to get them out. I began to realize that I’d burn to death if I didn’t get them out soon so I took a chance in standing up and took them all off. I had a box of morphine injections in my tunic which I managed to get a hold of and shoved one of them in my arm.
By that time my driver and gunner crawled over to where I was (my wireless operator had been killed by the shell). and as the morphine eased the pain I began to realize that we were in a jam. Three of us all badly hurt, four miles in front of our main body and medical aid and the Germans between ourselves and our regiment and all around us besides.
I decided we’d better start right away so we began, sometimes crawling, sometimes on our hands and knees, sometimes running, and believe me, Mom. That was four miles of hell. We sneaked through the German patrols and snipers and once we had to lie in a ditch for a half an hour while the area was being shelled. On top of it all, I didn’t have a map, and the roads were all strange, but I finally got us back and when I got to our own M.O. I didn’t give a damn anymore. They fixed us up a bit and they finally took me to the dressing station on the beach.
By that time I was blind… Here Linda took a moment to explain, “you know when you get burned, that serum that comes out of your body, well his eyes and everything were all burned, so they were glued shut with the serum.”
…but I remember laying there all night with enemy planes bombing the hell out of us. Finally I passed out and I laid there unconscious for three days.
“I believe that the people checking the bodies thought he was dead so he just laid there for three days before they realized he was still alive. I think,” said Linda solemnly.
Linda Fullerton pointing to the picture of her Uncle Buster from his time as President of the Albert County Royal Canadian Legion. The next thing I remember is when a doctor cut open my eyes so I could see and told me not to worry, that I was safe in an English hospital.
This letter, like many that followed, was dictated to one of Buster’s nurses as he endured numerous surgeries and skin grafts. “He always downplayed how bad it was,” recalled Linda, “and when he finally did come home, his family was not prepared for the extent of his burns.” She touched her own face with tears in her eyes. “He’d left for the war a handsome young man, and when he came back…” she shook her head.
She invited us to look in the hallway of the Legion where his picture hangs, from his years as President of the Albert County Royal Canadian Legion after the war. The physical scars he carried from the fire are still clearly visible on his face.
This letter, like many that followed, was dictated to one of Buster’s nurses as he endured numerous surgeries and skin grafts. “He always downplayed how bad it was,” recalled Linda, “and when he finally did come home, his family was not prepared for the extent of his burns.” She touched her own face with tears in her eyes. “He’d left for the war a handsome young man, and when he came back…” she shook her head.
She invited us to look in the hallway of the Legion where his picture hangs, from his years as President of the Albert County Royal Canadian Legion after the war. The physical scars he carried from the fire are still clearly visible on his face.
Barbara Haire (Chaplain) and Peter Jubb, standing beside the display of letters and memorabilia of Barbara's father Frank Willett and his time in Nijmegen. Frank Willett
After Linda’s story was complete, Rev. Barbara Haire, Chaplain of the Albert County Royal Canadian Legion, took her turn. She wore a 1920’s flapper dress to commemorate the centennial and began by showing the crowd a photograph. “This is my dad,” she said, the pride in her voice as she said my dad, unmistakable. “This is Private Frank Willett.”
From Riverside-Albert, Frank “was short, he was fast, and he was strong, so he ended up being a motorcycle dispatch rider,” Barbara explained.
Frank soon found himself in Nijmegen, a Netherlands city that borders Germany. “This was the front lines. The city was surrounded by German encampments.” But Frank had dispatches that had to get through.
He soon met a 12-year-old girl, Truus Janssen, who lived in the area and asked her for directions. Truus had no reason to like the Germans. “The Germans had starved these people to death, they had taken all of their animals, they had taken all of their crops. They had blown up their houses,” explained Barbara.
“Wait until dark and I can take you,” she told Frank.
Once it was dark, Truus kept her word, leading Frank and his motorcycle “through the woods, past all the German encampments” to the Allied front line.
When Frank returned some months later, the city had been devastated. “Dad rode up and down the streets many times on that motorcycle until he found Truus again.
“During the winter of 1944 it was too cold for the boys to be sleeping in tents, so the families in Nijmegen took the soldiers in and billeted them while they were moving in and out of the area.”
The Janssens “lived out on a big farm, so they had a lot more room to take in more of the soldiers.”
The Canadians shared all their rations as the people were starving. Barbara heard many stories of the “wonderful pancake meals with the boys. And so many of the soldiers the people of Nijmegen met for breakfast went off in the next battle and never returned. Dad was one of the lucky ones.”
Frank didn’t come through the war unscathed, though. “The German snipers would shoot to blow up their gas tanks under the dispatch riders and kill them,” said Barbara, dread creeping into her voice.
“But when they shot Dad, it went through his leg and then through the gas tank. It didn’t explode.
“They put him to work in the dispatch office in Nijmegen while he was healing and he got to stay with this family that he’d already befriended,” the Janssens.
Frank’s bond with the family grew. “He taught all the girls to drive truck.”
Barbara bit back a smirk as she went on, “once, he put them all in uniform, snuck them into a jeep, and drove them to the next town to see a sick relative. You see, they weren’t allowed to travel around because of the Germans. He probably would have gotten hung for that one if he got caught, but he did it.”
After the war had ended, the bonds that Frank Willett established with the Janssens endured. Truus sent regular letters to Barbara’s mother over the years, sending news, photographs, and making sure the families remained connected.
The letters were all written in Dutch, of course. “Mom would ask a Dutch lady here in Hillsborough, Mrs. Brahm, to read all the letters and cards that came.”
The language barrier was never enough to keep the families apart. 2008 was the first overseas visit the Janssens made to Albert County, then Truus herself came in 2010.
In 2015, Barbara was set to marry Peter Jubb, formerly a Corporal in the British Army and so they travelled to Europe to meet his family. “We did a side trip to Holland so I could see where Dad was.” Her old friends in the Janssen family showed her the sights.
“It’s amazing to think that the bonds Dad formed during the war have lasted over 80 years.”
After Linda’s story was complete, Rev. Barbara Haire, Chaplain of the Albert County Royal Canadian Legion, took her turn. She wore a 1920’s flapper dress to commemorate the centennial and began by showing the crowd a photograph. “This is my dad,” she said, the pride in her voice as she said my dad, unmistakable. “This is Private Frank Willett.”
From Riverside-Albert, Frank “was short, he was fast, and he was strong, so he ended up being a motorcycle dispatch rider,” Barbara explained.
Frank soon found himself in Nijmegen, a Netherlands city that borders Germany. “This was the front lines. The city was surrounded by German encampments.” But Frank had dispatches that had to get through.
He soon met a 12-year-old girl, Truus Janssen, who lived in the area and asked her for directions. Truus had no reason to like the Germans. “The Germans had starved these people to death, they had taken all of their animals, they had taken all of their crops. They had blown up their houses,” explained Barbara.
“Wait until dark and I can take you,” she told Frank.
Once it was dark, Truus kept her word, leading Frank and his motorcycle “through the woods, past all the German encampments” to the Allied front line.
When Frank returned some months later, the city had been devastated. “Dad rode up and down the streets many times on that motorcycle until he found Truus again.
“During the winter of 1944 it was too cold for the boys to be sleeping in tents, so the families in Nijmegen took the soldiers in and billeted them while they were moving in and out of the area.”
The Janssens “lived out on a big farm, so they had a lot more room to take in more of the soldiers.”
The Canadians shared all their rations as the people were starving. Barbara heard many stories of the “wonderful pancake meals with the boys. And so many of the soldiers the people of Nijmegen met for breakfast went off in the next battle and never returned. Dad was one of the lucky ones.”
Frank didn’t come through the war unscathed, though. “The German snipers would shoot to blow up their gas tanks under the dispatch riders and kill them,” said Barbara, dread creeping into her voice.
“But when they shot Dad, it went through his leg and then through the gas tank. It didn’t explode.
“They put him to work in the dispatch office in Nijmegen while he was healing and he got to stay with this family that he’d already befriended,” the Janssens.
Frank’s bond with the family grew. “He taught all the girls to drive truck.”
Barbara bit back a smirk as she went on, “once, he put them all in uniform, snuck them into a jeep, and drove them to the next town to see a sick relative. You see, they weren’t allowed to travel around because of the Germans. He probably would have gotten hung for that one if he got caught, but he did it.”
After the war had ended, the bonds that Frank Willett established with the Janssens endured. Truus sent regular letters to Barbara’s mother over the years, sending news, photographs, and making sure the families remained connected.
The letters were all written in Dutch, of course. “Mom would ask a Dutch lady here in Hillsborough, Mrs. Brahm, to read all the letters and cards that came.”
The language barrier was never enough to keep the families apart. 2008 was the first overseas visit the Janssens made to Albert County, then Truus herself came in 2010.
In 2015, Barbara was set to marry Peter Jubb, formerly a Corporal in the British Army and so they travelled to Europe to meet his family. “We did a side trip to Holland so I could see where Dad was.” Her old friends in the Janssen family showed her the sights.
“It’s amazing to think that the bonds Dad formed during the war have lasted over 80 years.”
Conclusion
I’ve lived in Canada my whole life, but this is the first Canada Day I’ve spent remembering. Of adding such depth to familiar names; Coverdale, Edgett’s Landing, and Riverside-Albert. Places where important things happened, and heroes lived.
As the Albert County Royal Canadian Legion turned on the grill to serve barbecue to the listeners, more stories were shared. It was easy to feel the presence of history, of Irene Carter, Keith Steeves, and Frank Willett there in the room.
After lunch, the family festivities began, children playing games set out on the lawn and picnic tables filling with people. President Rick Langer welcomed everyone to the Royal Canadian Legion’s Centenary Canada Day celebration. After a few words from Fundy Albert mayor Jim Campbell, it was time for the local musicians to take the stage. For the first song of the day, Shane Douthwright began O Canada.
The crowd stood to sing, their voices carrying over the hills and wetlands where so much history lives.
I’ve lived in Canada my whole life, but this is the first Canada Day I’ve spent remembering. Of adding such depth to familiar names; Coverdale, Edgett’s Landing, and Riverside-Albert. Places where important things happened, and heroes lived.
As the Albert County Royal Canadian Legion turned on the grill to serve barbecue to the listeners, more stories were shared. It was easy to feel the presence of history, of Irene Carter, Keith Steeves, and Frank Willett there in the room.
After lunch, the family festivities began, children playing games set out on the lawn and picnic tables filling with people. President Rick Langer welcomed everyone to the Royal Canadian Legion’s Centenary Canada Day celebration. After a few words from Fundy Albert mayor Jim Campbell, it was time for the local musicians to take the stage. For the first song of the day, Shane Douthwright began O Canada.
The crowd stood to sing, their voices carrying over the hills and wetlands where so much history lives.
Jennifer Shelby hunts for stories in the beetled undergrowth of Acadian forests. She fishes for them in the dark space between stars. As a part of her ongoing catch-and-release program, a collection of her short fiction is being archived on the Moon as part of the Lunar Codex.
You can learn more about story hunting, the Lunar Codex, and Jennifer’s books at https://jennifershelby.blog
You can learn more about story hunting, the Lunar Codex, and Jennifer’s books at https://jennifershelby.blog
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