His War: One Man’s Journey
My grandfather wasn’t what most would consider a war hero. He was a quiet, unassuming young man when he enlisted in 1940, and like many other young Canadians, did so under-age. Elmer Ernest Mahar of Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island enlisted on July 1st, 1940 for active service in the Canadian Armed Forces with the Prince Edward Island Highlanders, CASF under the regimental number F-60435. Elmer, a resident of Green Street, was an unskilled labourer whom had quit school after completing the sixth grade, as was common during the depression-era 1930s. He lived at home with his parents, and had listed his mother, Mary, as his next of kin on his Attestation Paper. Elmer stood only five foot six and one half inches tall with pale grey eyes and dark brown hair.
Elmer, the son of Irish immigrants, grew up in Canada and developed a fierce loyalty to her. Even throughout his childhood, he was a quiet, shy, and reserved person with his select group of close friends and his siblings for companionship. At the age of 12 he began working with his brother, a truck driver, until he was able to find independent employment as a shoe shining clerk in a general store, owned by one Fred Lambros. When war broke out, Elmer was just shy of sixteen years of age and thus too young to volunteer. Less than a year later is when he made the attempt at enlisting under aged, and the short Irish lad from P.E.I. did so by claiming his age two years older than it was.
It’s from here that the now Private Mahar embarked on what he undoubtedly expected to be an exciting military journey where he could serve the country that had given his family a home. Of course, this journey would be a little more strung out then he had hoped. Canadian troops were generally overlooked by British command, and as such the first sixteen months of my grandfather’s war with the P.E.I. Highlanders was spent manning garrison posts in Valcartier (Quebec), Halifax (Nova Scotia), and the with the majority of this time spent at the Botwood Air Base in Newfoundland.
Botwood was an important port and air strip in Northern Newfoundland, which at the time (and until 1949) was a colony of the United Kingdom and not a part of Canada. Botwood was an important hub for the region with an active port ferrying in supplies and housing patrol craft and also contained the important Air Base. The base was used by commercial aviation as a jumping off point from North America to Europe and played host to such infamous characters as Charles Lindbergh, Franklin D. Roosevelt, and Winston Churchill. The Prince Edward Island Highlanders were responsible for manning the anti-aircraft batteries and costal gun defences in the area. When converted to a military installation, the army units that cycled through the area (including my grandfather’s Regiment) constructed their own barracks, a water system, and a full-scale military hospital. It’s at this hospital that Elmer was admitted five times between October 29, 1941, and February 17, 1942 for reasons unclear. It’s worth noting that on February 14, 1942, Elmer was AWL – Absent Without Leave – for three days and twenty hours. Upon returning, he was immediately admitted to Botwood Military Hospital for the final time, and was also docked four days pay and five days of being confined to his barracks (C.B.), more than likely followed by hours of full-pack drills (intense physical exercise with full military equipment on).
Private Mahar’s last stint in the hospital and his punishment seems to have served him well. No other reprimands appear on his record, nor are there any further visits to the no familiar Botwood Military Hospital. The war in Botwood was fairly uneventful for all parties involved. The two squadrons of PBY Canso Flying Boats (naval bombers) would patrol the waters around Newfoundland on a regular basis with a handful of limited engagements with the enemy, but more or less to the South.
By this point in the war, no Canadians had seen action against the Germans with the very extreme exception of a handful of First Division men who landed in Dunkirk in 1940, only to be immediately evacuated again. It wasn’t until August of 1942 when men of the Second Canadian Division went ashore at Dieppe, a raid that proved disastrous and lead to more than 900 Canadians being killed with a further 2,462 being captured, wounded, or both. This introduction to war for the Canadian troops was appalling, but none the less didn’t sway the individual soldier’s determination to fight. Prime Minister Mackenzie King wasn’t entirely keen on sending what few divisions Canada had into engagements due to manpower shortages and the need for North American and British garrisons, but by 1943 Canadian commanders were eager to redeem themselves.
At the Quebec Conference in August of 1943, the Canadian contribution to the Mediterranean Theatre was solidified. Allied commanders chose Italy as their next target (as North Africa was almost entirely secured) as it would open a second front in Europe, helping alleviate pressure on the Soviet Union and to further draw troops from the Northern European coastline. The allies wanted not as much to conquer Italy and beat them out of the war (although this was accomplished anyway), but desired strategic air bases in Italy that would help Allied bombers reach Southern German, Austrian, and Hungarian targets more safely.
Private Mahar, now transferred to the Carleton & York Regiment (an algimated unit of two New Brunswick regiments) as a part of the First Canadian Infantry Division. These soldiers would play a vital role in the years to come in Italy, my grandfather included, and would again lay the groundwork for the awe-inspiring reputation that Canadian soldiers develop during war.
The men embarked from England in late June, 1943, for staging in North Africa. En route, the troop and supply convoy was attacked by a German U-Boat and suffered the loss of 58 Canadians and the loss of 500 vehicles and guns, the bulk of the Canadian motor pool. This attack would have been the first definite sign that war was more than just reports and sand tables for enlisted and inexperienced men such as my grandfather.
The men of the Carleton & York Regiment and the rest of the Canadians embarked on Operation Husky, the invasion of the island of Sicily, Italy. Reconnaissance photos and reports indicated a highly fortified landing area that would prove a deadly obstacle. My grandfather and the all soldiers must have felt a feeling of utter dismay, knowing that they would soon face certain death from concrete pillboxes, barbed wire, and tank traps. In the early morning hours of July 9, 1943, the Allied forces landed in Sicily. The landings were plagued by rough seas and poor weather and a number of the landings were late. One could only imagine the thoughts going through any soldier’s head as his flat-bottomed landing craft smashes into the waves and the mist flies over their heads. The men were expecting bloodshed, and with craft landing on wrong beaches, hours behind schedule, and in poor weather, the situation could only be made worse.
As it turns out, they couldn’t have been more wrong. The First Canadian Infantry were able to breathe a sigh of relief as they landed on the beaches to find only stone houses and farmer’s fences as opposed to something more comparable to Hitler’s “Atlantic Wall” of strong fortifications. Only a few scattered shots were fired as the few Italian defenders rapidly broke down and retreated. It would have seemed almost comical, but the ease of the landings would quickly turn into a fleeting memory in the days to come. As Canadians began to push up from Pachino Beach, making up the left-most flank (with five British divisions to the right), they were to face the harsh realities of the Italian terrain. Italy, Sicily included, is dominated by rolling hills, mountains, and deep-cut ravines and valleys. With very little transportation due to the U-Boat attack, Canadians found themselves hitching rides with tanks and walking the heavily mined roads in an effort to trap the Italian and German forces on the island. The nature of the chalky soil in Sicily with the hot summer sun made conditions very difficult for the Canadians. The air was filled with fine dust kicked up from the soldier’s feet and passing vehicles, and the heat is something Canadians weren’t accustomed to as they had spent their entire war in Newfoundland and England (unlike the British and Americans who were battle-hardened in North Africa).
Resistance quickly began to stiffen as the Germans were fighting several delay actions to facilitate the evacuation over the Strait of Messina to mainland Italy. The first such action for my grandfather and the Carleton & York Regiment was at Valguarnera. Valguarnera was a small village nestled in the Sicilian hills. The terrain gave the defending German troops a very strong advantage, and it would take nearly five days from July 15 to July 20 to dislodge the Germans. Eight Regiments, including the Carleton & York with support from the Three Rivers Armoured Regiment, fought a fierce battle up dangerous terrain with mines and obstacles. Carleton & York, along with the other Regiments, suffered heavy casualties during this and other battles. My grandfather’s regiment saw no more combat during the Sicilian campaign and would have stayed in reserve while they licked their wounds sustained during the Battle of Valguarnera.
The Canadians distinguished themselves valiantly during this campaign, advancing 240 kilometres through Sicily, the longest advance in the entire British Eighth Army (which the First Canadian Infantry Division was assigned to). During this time, 562 Canadians were killed with a further 644 wounded and 84 captured as prisoners of war. My grandfather, Elmer Ernest Mahar, was not amongst the wounded, killed, or captured. He would survive to make the push into Italy itself.
The Carleton & York Regiment boarded their landing craft once again and landed near the Italian coastal town of Reggio di Calabria on September 3, 1943. Again, the troops were met with absolutely no opposition on the beaches. The Italians had abandoned their positions with the only German troops, a section of the 29th Panzer Grenediers, had pulled back to defensive positions two days prior. On their retreat, they had demolished all bridges and mined the roads to slow the Allied advance.
Over the next few days, the Canadians made a slow and cautious advance through the Aspromonte region of Italy, proving to be a very demanding campaign for the Royal Canadian Engineers whose job it was to repair the bridges and clear the roads. During this time, the Carleton & York Regiment stayed mostly in reserve, supporting the Engineers and forward units in the advance.
The Canadians were ordered to push toward the town of Ortona, a coastal town on the East coast of Italy. The Sangro River Valley was heavily cultivated with Olive groves, vineyards, and orchards augmented by the now familiar rolling hills and cliffs of Italy, and it lay directly in the path of Ortona. By this point in the Italian campaign, the German troop strength was nearly equal to that of the Allied armies in Italy, and they also had the distinctive defence and terrain advantages. As the first snow began to fall on November 19, 1943, my grandfather and the Carleton & York Regiment along with the “Van-Doos” (Le Royal 22e Regiment) and the West Nova Scotia Regiment pushed hard on the Sangro River.
The Adriatic coastline was typical of Italy with deep-cut ravines and steep hills and mountains, and as such would prove a difficult battle for the Canadians. After nearly two weeks of relentless artillery barrages, raids, and attacks, the defensive line was finally broken and Pte. Mahar arrived safely on the opposite side of the river bank.
There was little downtime for Elmer during this campaign. The Canadians slowly advanced northward, encountering the Germans at the Moro Valley, and a place that became to be known as “The Gully.” The gully was a virtual dead-end in the Italian terrain. The gully was a deep, narrow ravine that was impossible to be bridged and tanks had absolutely no way across, yet it still had to be done. To make matters worse, the 90th Panzer Division was heavily entrenched in it with several machinegun fox holes and mortar pits with a commanding view. The positions were exceedingly well defended due to the steep slopes, and as such Canadian artillery proved useless against them. Casualties were high as several ill-fated attacks were made on the area and were eventually forced to retreat on December 19, 1943. Despite being in the waves of attacks, my grandfather walked out unscathed from the relentless German mortar, machinegun, and small arms fire.
The Carleton & York Regiment took to defensive duties as the rest of the first Canadian Infantry division made the assault on Ortona. Ortona was a costly battle for the Canadians, being dubbed “Little Stalingrad” as a homage to the severe house-to-house fighting the Soviets engaged in against the Germans. By this point, Canadian troop strength was at its highest concentration at 76,000 fighting men, but at a costly figure of 9,934 casualties by the end of the Battle of Ortona, 2,119 of which were fatal.
Torre Mucchia was an ancient tall-standing tower dominating the Italian landscape. Despite the town of Ortona being taken, Germans were still pounding the area with about three bombardments a day with heavy artillery, although it proved ineffective against the already demolished town. The Carleton & York Regiment along with the Ontario Armoured Regiment and the Van-Doo’s made the push to Torre Mucchia where the Germans had retreated to from Ortona a few days earlier.
On December 29, 1943, heavy contact was made with the Germans who were dug in and well-defended. The Carleton & York Regiment made the frontal assault on Point 59 (Torre Mucchia), but the attack failed when the two forward companies came under heavy and accurate artillery and mortar fire. In the final hours of New Years Eve, 1943, the Germans sent in a hard counter-attack that broke the Carleton & York Regiment’s forward lines. The situation was quickly restored with the now exhausted men, my grandfather included, holding on in their water-filled trenches until further orders. On January 4, 1944, the Carleton & York Regiment made one last-ditch effort to attack Point 59 after one of the largest artillery barrages during the entire campaign weakened the German defenders. When my grandfather’s regiment attacked this time, they managed to easily clear out the German defenders from both Point 59 and the beaches to the East. Pte. Mahar and the men of the Carleton & York Regiment fought from mid-November through poor weather, impossible terrain, and against a battle-hardened enemy and survived.
The Canadians and the British Eight Army were moved in secret to the base of Monte Cassino and the Liri River Valley which constituted a large portion of the Gustav Line. Pushing through the Gustav Line was important to link up with the Anzio Beachhead, a beach landing south of Rome which quickly developed into a quagmire. Initially, the Canadians were held in reserve as they recuperated from the Ortona campaign with the 13th British Corps. The Americans, British, and Polish troops managed to conquer the dominating mountain-top and open the route to the Liri River and the Adolf Hitler Line where the Canadians were ordered to position on May 16, 1944.
It was in the Liri Valley where my grandfather’s war would come to an end. On May 19, 1944, orders were given to the Carleton & York Regiment to attack the Adolf Hitler Line in two phases. When dawn broke that morning, both A and C Companies were ordered to advance and managed to reach their first objective without difficulty or opposition. Continuing their advance, the Regiment came under heavy enemy DF (Defensive Fire) of mortar and artillery before they could take a covered position, and here suffered casualties. B Company moved up past A Company on to the last cover before the Hitler Line itself with D Company moving up with armoured support in preperation to launch an attack, but due to shifting positions on the line, was aborted and fell short 800 yards of their attended goal.
The already intense artillery and mortar fire intensified even more at this point and harassed the Canadian positions and headquarters causing heavy casualties. It was during this shelling that my grandfather, Private Elmer Ernest Mahar, received a shrapnel wound from a mortar bomb to his right arm, also causing deafness in his right ear from the explosion itself. He was evacuated off of the line with the slew of other casualties to Batallion Aid, and eventually back to England.
From the War Diary of the Carleton & York Regiment, 19 May 44.
Weather – clear in the morning, clouding up around noon with rain in the afternoon and at night. The C.O. (Lt.-col E.D. Danby) was called to HQ 3 CIB at 0100 hrs and on his return held an “O” Group. Orders were given for an attack in two phases which was to carry us through the ADOLFH HITLER LINE. At first light A & C Coys advanced to the first objective without opposition but ran into concentrated enemy DF, mortars and artillery before they could consolidate and suffered casualties. B Sqn of the 51st R.T.R. were in support. The R.C.E. and Pioneers bridged a small stream for transport. B Coy pushed through A Coy and took up a position the reverse of the last slope beofer the HITLER LINE. D Coy moved forward with the tanks in preparation for an attack on the line but heavy opposition on the R 22e R front caused a change in plans and the rifle companies consolidated about 800 yds short of the line. During this time the enemy artillery and mortars really opened up and continued to harass the companies and Bn HQ the rest of the day and night causing heavy casualties.
Elmer returned home on November 9, 1944 having seen the last of his combat on a rainy May day in Italy, preparing for the push to Rome. It was my grandfather’s desire to return to civilian life in service of Canada Post, the Canadian postal service, but would eventually take any odd job he could find in order to support his budding family. The Mahar family would raise nine children and settled between Kentville and Wolfville, Nova Scotia, and Hamilton, Ontario. Elmer died in 1977 at the still young age of 54 and is buried in the Willow Banks Cemetery in Wolfville, Nova Scotia. His daughter, my mother, Dorothy, lives next to that grave yard today. Every year, she places a hand-made wreath on his graves and makes sure it remains clean and respectable.
I never knew my grandfather, but I know what kind of man he was. He was a good man, a man who fought for his country and fought to give his family everything they could have ever desired. He may have had a short time on this Earth, but in that life he accomplished great things. He leaves behind his legacy in his family and the lives he touched both as a soldier and as a civilian. It’s our duty as today’s generation to remember men like Private Elmer Ernest Mahar and all of the fathers and grand fathers who fought for our freedom and to oppress tyranny.
We shall never forget.
