his daughter and be by her side.
He had no idea how soon that pledge would be challenged.
Yosuke gave his blessing and Hideo went straight to the dress shop. He waited outside until Mitsue closed up and locked the door. When she looked at him she recognized his expression. She’d seen it before—four times before, to be exact. This time she said yes. They hugged and took the train home.
Mitsue was in no rush to marry. She thought that they could take the time during their year-long engagement to get to know each other better. That was the plan.
December 7, 1941, started out just like any other day. Mitsue woke up and ate a little porridge for breakfast. Her mother walked into the living room and switched on the CBC. The announcer spoke in a feverish tone. There had been a “Jap attack.” Tomi fell to her knees.
C HAPTER 3
No Good
Fourteen months before Pearl Harbor, on September 15, 1940, Ralph MacLean left Grindstone as a rifleman. He had had two months of hurry-up-and-wait basic training in Valcartier, Quebec. The men wanted to get out into the world, they wanted to fight. They got to do neither. Their first international garrison duty was guarding Gander’s airport for nine monotonous months. The only action Ralph saw was guarding the officers’ liquor chest.
Rifleman Ralph MacLean in Gander, Newfoundland, 1940
Finally, the call came. The men were buzzing with anticipation. They were being reassigned. No one knew where they were going. They had no idea what their campaign had in store for them.
Before their next scheduled deployment, the men from the Magdalen Islands were granted a brief leave to return home. It hadbeen months since Ralph had been with his family and he was keen to see them all, especially his mother. He knew she had been worried about him and that she would only be satisfied when she laid eyes on him and could see for herself that he was in good condition and well fed—even if it was not with her home cooking.
The night before they were to leave, Ralph’s cousin Henry Clark took them on a caper. Ralph had never really liked his cousin. Henry was a troubled guy. He had a short fuse and was quick to violence. He reminded Ralph of his own father.
But Henry was his cousin, so when he stole a turkey from the Officers’ Mess and needed a hand from Ralph to get it off the base, Ralph obliged. Family is family. The two of them snuck off the grounds and cooked the turkey at the home of an acquaintance of Henry’s just a few blocks from the barracks. Later they stumbled home drunk and full to bursting, singing old Maritime songs. They were headed home to the island and glad of it.
But Ralph did not return to a happy home. His father had fallen ill with tuberculosis. Not that it made much difference to Ralph. He had left the island in large part because of his father’s brutality. But he found his mother stricken with anxiety. He hated to see his mother in anguish. It left him puzzled—Stanley MacLean had been as cruel to her as he had to him. Why was she grieving? Ralph was not.
After a few more nights visiting friends and family and playing cards, it was almost time to go. Bur Ralph’s mother had a going-away surprise for him. She did something she’d never done before: she threw a party. Nothing big, nothing fancy, just a small gathering of folks, some baking, some tea, and a few fiddles. Ralph’s army pals were invited: Deighton, Bookie Leslie, Joe Delaney, and the Arsenault boys. His mother frowned on liquor, but Bookie saw to it that a flask was passed around discreetly.
The folks of Grindstone were proud of their boys. Not one of them over twenty-two, the boys puffed with pride as well. English and French floated through the house. As always, a fiddle waspassed down the hall and into the living room, a couch was pushed aside, and a jig was born. They danced into the night, oblivious to what awaited them.
Ralph knew that there was one formality he needed to attend to. He had to
He had no idea how soon that pledge would be challenged.
Yosuke gave his blessing and Hideo went straight to the dress shop. He waited outside until Mitsue closed up and locked the door. When she looked at him she recognized his expression. She’d seen it before—four times before, to be exact. This time she said yes. They hugged and took the train home.
Mitsue was in no rush to marry. She thought that they could take the time during their year-long engagement to get to know each other better. That was the plan.
December 7, 1941, started out just like any other day. Mitsue woke up and ate a little porridge for breakfast. Her mother walked into the living room and switched on the CBC. The announcer spoke in a feverish tone. There had been a “Jap attack.” Tomi fell to her knees.
C HAPTER 3
No Good
Fourteen months before Pearl Harbor, on September 15, 1940, Ralph MacLean left Grindstone as a rifleman. He had had two months of hurry-up-and-wait basic training in Valcartier, Quebec. The men wanted to get out into the world, they wanted to fight. They got to do neither. Their first international garrison duty was guarding Gander’s airport for nine monotonous months. The only action Ralph saw was guarding the officers’ liquor chest.
Rifleman Ralph MacLean in Gander, Newfoundland, 1940
Finally, the call came. The men were buzzing with anticipation. They were being reassigned. No one knew where they were going. They had no idea what their campaign had in store for them.
Before their next scheduled deployment, the men from the Magdalen Islands were granted a brief leave to return home. It hadbeen months since Ralph had been with his family and he was keen to see them all, especially his mother. He knew she had been worried about him and that she would only be satisfied when she laid eyes on him and could see for herself that he was in good condition and well fed—even if it was not with her home cooking.
The night before they were to leave, Ralph’s cousin Henry Clark took them on a caper. Ralph had never really liked his cousin. Henry was a troubled guy. He had a short fuse and was quick to violence. He reminded Ralph of his own father.
But Henry was his cousin, so when he stole a turkey from the Officers’ Mess and needed a hand from Ralph to get it off the base, Ralph obliged. Family is family. The two of them snuck off the grounds and cooked the turkey at the home of an acquaintance of Henry’s just a few blocks from the barracks. Later they stumbled home drunk and full to bursting, singing old Maritime songs. They were headed home to the island and glad of it.
But Ralph did not return to a happy home. His father had fallen ill with tuberculosis. Not that it made much difference to Ralph. He had left the island in large part because of his father’s brutality. But he found his mother stricken with anxiety. He hated to see his mother in anguish. It left him puzzled—Stanley MacLean had been as cruel to her as he had to him. Why was she grieving? Ralph was not.
After a few more nights visiting friends and family and playing cards, it was almost time to go. Bur Ralph’s mother had a going-away surprise for him. She did something she’d never done before: she threw a party. Nothing big, nothing fancy, just a small gathering of folks, some baking, some tea, and a few fiddles. Ralph’s army pals were invited: Deighton, Bookie Leslie, Joe Delaney, and the Arsenault boys. His mother frowned on liquor, but Bookie saw to it that a flask was passed around discreetly.
The folks of Grindstone were proud of their boys. Not one of them over twenty-two, the boys puffed with pride as well. English and French floated through the house. As always, a fiddle waspassed down the hall and into the living room, a couch was pushed aside, and a jig was born. They danced into the night, oblivious to what awaited them.
Ralph knew that there was one formality he needed to attend to. He had to
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