The Veteran Internet Journal May 17, 2013

Why we should remember our good friend, Lieutenant Peter Worthington

Peter Worthington 1927-2013

A prince can mak a belted knight, A marquise, duke, an' a' that; But an honest man's aboon his might, Gude faith, he maunna fa' that! For a' that, an' a' that, Their dignities an' a' that, The pith o' sense, an' pride o' worth, Are higher rank than a' that.

- Robert Burns

A funeral service for Lieutenant Peter Worthington will be held in on Wednesday, May 22 at the Deer Park Christ Church at 1570 Yonge St. A reception will follow for attending veterans and friends at the Mount Pleasant Cemetery Visitors Centre. All Veterans who are in the vicinity and who are able, are encouraged to attend and to honour this worthy man. Veterans who attend should wear full or miniature medals, out of respect for Lieutenant Worthington and to honour his family. Please advise the Korean War Veteran or intentions to attend, with names of participants and service affiliations - [email protected]

There are many reasons why we should remember our fallen comrade, Peter Worthington. Canadian news media have been abuzz with legions of stories about his fame as a newspaperman, his uniqueness as an individual, even touching on his military service and on his voluntary civilian missions to Afghanistan. Every one of those stories is a gem – written by one of Canada’s very best reporters or writers, or “journalists,” which is a term both Worthington and I found a little curious and did not use as a credential. Those in the news business are diverse as the general population. Talents and motives are manifold, and skills and energies are of different categories and levels. There are no qualifying exams or professional boards to certify them, but within the hardest working bunch there is tacit recognition of those who are qualified, those who are fairly good at their pursuits, those who are very good, and the very, very few who are great – like Worthington. There are very special reasons why veterans should remember Peter, and participate in his funeral service next Wednesday in Toronto. In fact there are hundreds of such reasons. Long a supporter of veterans and their needs After I convinced Peter – my claim to fame – to return to for the first time in 2000, he would say later that until then he had put any Korean War memories to rest; that he hadn’t particularly thought much about the war and his service in Korea for some years. But that wasn’t quite a sound reflection, though I understood what he was saying. He was not being deceptive in any way; that was not his nature. It was probably that he thought all of the things he had done in connection with the war, or its veterans, were just commonplace stuff that he thought little about; nothing memorable or worthy of comment. Helping Herbert Wood with 'Jacket Coates' For one thing, early on in the years after the war he had met and befriended the former commanding officer of our Battalion, Lieutenant Colonel Herbert Wood. Herbert had not completed his full tour in Korea, being medically evacuated at a time when Peter was detached from his assignment as the Princess Patricias intelligence officer – before that he had been a front line platoon commander – to serve as an aerial observer with the . As a civilian, Peter helped Wood complete two novels about Korean War Soldiers. One of them was called “The Private War of Jacket Coates.” Wood did such a good job, aided by Peter who did proofing and editing, that later on some would-be “expert” historian would actually cite “Jacket Coates” in the bibliography of the Korean War history that he had written. He would allege him to be a source on record in the Princess Patricia’s 2nd Battalion War diary – which was absolutely untrue and says something about some of our historians and their work. Jacket Coates, the character, and the entire book were pure fiction, coming from the mind of Herbert Wood. The closest he got to his soldiers at the front in Korea or in training in Canada was when they stood before him on serious charges and he listened bemused to their excuses or the confessions for their often colourful misconduct. Sometimes in Canada, before the Battalion went to Korea, Peter had been standing behind Wood when he listened to those charges; Peter was, for a short spell, Wood’s Battalion Adjutant. Peter would later suggest it was not a job that he was suited for. Wood was quite proud of his literary contrivance – using “jacket” and “coat” to form his fictional hero’s name. He would never guess that some day Jacket Coates would be cited as an actual person in a military history that even was cited still later on by curators and historians associated with the Canadian War Museum. So beware of tales about the Korean War that come from those who were not there and who have never stepped foot in the country. Too bad Herbert Wood had not enlisted Peter’s aid to help him write his “Official History of the Canadian Army in Korea: Strange Battleground.” It could certainly use a touch of clarity and better selection of subject, although it is a useful reference, even with big holes in it and what seems a staff officer’s distance from the men who made that history. In Korea, Wood had been shocked when he first toured the front and saw the rat hole bunkers his men would have to live in, and was aghast that at one position there were still enemy bodies hanging in the barbed wire barriers. He said aloud that it he had any option he would never post his soldiers in such places. He also wanted, very badly, to mount a two-company attack on the enemy and show them the kind of war he and his veteran senior officers had known in Europe. Frankly, many Canadian soldiers would have preferred that to the trench and outpost warfare where a few fell as casualties every day or so. The thing is, the enemy was numerous and had amassed a huge arsenal of artillery and shells from the Soviet Union and such an attack would likely have been disastrous at that stage of the war. Besides, it would have gained no ground. Friends with Royal Canadian Regiment General Also, after Peter had been fired from the that he had founded, but quickly rehired as the editor of its newly formed sister paper, the Sun, he befriended another Korean War Veteran. Peter was an enormously strong champion of his own Regiment and in personal face to face situations he picked on those who had served in others; but never in print. In Ottawa he met Major General Danny Loomis, who was commissioned in the rival The Royal Canadian Regiment. A new lieutenant who had just graduated from the Royal Military College of Canada in June, 1952, Loomis had been shipped straight to Korea. He joined the 1st Battalion of his Regiment on the bloody slopes of Hill 355 in the front lines, at a time when the enemy was blasting upwards of several hundred shells each day onto the position. Danny was an instant hit and extremely popular with his men. Badly wounded early on leading a fighting patrol, he stayed back near the enemy until every wounded man was rescued and every killed soldier was recovered. He was awarded the Military Cross for bravery in the field for that action. Ordered to be medically evacuated he kicked up much noise and outrageously refused. His Battalion was taking extreme casualties on Hill 355. Danny worked out an arrangement with his commanding officer whereby he served in the trenches by night and went behind the front for physiotherapy by day. He was at the front when the enemy attacked with devastating force, including 5,000 shells fired onto the Hill 355 forward positions, on October 23, 1952. Danny had a horrid bad limp. Together he and Peter rehashed, reviewed the war, and the needs of veterans in Canada. This, of course, all became grist for Peter’s work and was put to good use. Danny also filled Peter in on some of the shortcomings he saw working in Canada’s evolving army and this, too, provided Peter with useful insights that were of great use to him. Writing the Preface for the Veterans Memorial Book Later on, in response to a request made in 1997 by another Korean War veteran, Major General Herbert Pitts, who had served with Peter in the same company in Korea, he authored the Preface to the Korea War Veterans Association of Canada Memorial Book. It contains the names of all 516 who are listed on the Korean War Honour Roll. As most veterans know, but reporters and commentators and speech makers imply in understandable error, not all of them fell in Korea. Peter’s preface in the Memorial Book is short, incisive, and probably the best explanation of Canada’s involvement in the Korean War ever written. He hammers down that the Korean War was the first in many military operations; that Canada played a key role that was much appreciated by the United States, which bore the brunt, and that Canada has since been involved in all of the UN military and peacekeeping missions. For the past few years in Korea, those who serve on the 60th Anniversary of the Korean War Commemoration Committee, of which I am a member, have been trying to define the war so succinctly. To do a better job, we should have plagiarized Worthington – or asked him to write it for us. The Memorial Book was not much read; it was sold to help raise funds to build the Korea Veterans Wall of Remembrance in Brampton, , which will be the site for Canada’s national Korean War Armistice Day 60th anniversary ceremonies this July 27. Peter did not like doing that sort of thing, writing on request. No writer does; no artist does. One famous Canadian painter, Jim Keirstead, who is also a Korean War Veteran drove an ambulance in Korea. Jim has to act a recluse at times to escape invitations to coffee klatches and other social entrapments. For one, such things interfere with his imagination regenerative time, and for two, people often ask him if he will paint a sign for a party, or for a campaign, or some mundane undertaking like that. Jim’s paintings are superb and draw him down significantly in strength because of the enormous effort he puts into them, and they sell for as much as $20,000 – for small ones! Peter also was not disposed to join veteran organizations or to wear his Korean War beret or medals in public, unless he felt it was essential. In fact, Peter’s medals were kept in frames on the wall in the Worthington residence; only his miniatures were available if he really wanted to wear them. Probably one reason for this is he needed to feel personally flexible; another had to do with his extreme individualism. Getting help for Kayong veterans at Tofino ceremony Following the preface to the Memorial Book, a year later Peter slugged away in his column extolling, then scathing the Canadian Government to urge them to stand taller and assist veterans from the 1951 Battle of Kapyong that was fought in Korea, to travel to Radar Hill near Tofino, British Columbia for a commemoration service. A stone and bronze monument to the battle and to the Canadian soldiers who fought in it was being dedicated on the hill. In Korea at the same time a celebration was being held on one of the Korean Hills that was dedicated to the Canadians. Peter's first revisit to Korea But back to April, 1950, the first time that I buttonholed Peter to come back to Korea. He came both as a “revisiting veteran” and as a totally independent news reporter. He carried a miniature camera and took copious photographs. He didn’t take notes. I don’t know that he ever did. He put it all in his mind. One photograph that he took of my wife and I attending the Veterans Awards Banquet in Seoul is on a shelf behind my desk and I look at it every day – sometimes more than once! And I remember always that Peter took it, as well as how much I love and adore Mak-ye. I met Peter that time when he arrived at the Kimpo airport, along with the other veterans. On the bus to the hotel I explained that I was trying to raise funds to build a monument to place in the Canadian Graves section of the United Nations Memorial Cemetery. It is located in the southern port city of Busan. Peter at once told me to give him details later and that he would ask his readers to make donations. Indeed, when the fund raising campaign began, the first donor was Peter and the donation was substantial – one of the highest made. Nobody topped it. Further, he did collect funds through his column that more than doubled it. He wrote about the veterans on that revisit – magnificent accounts, with excellent photographs. For the first time, those feature stories, so well written, opened the eyes of newer generations to some of what had happened in Korea half a century before, and how thousands of Canadians were still bearing the memory and the brunt – and the pride and in many cases, the hurt. Peter as a guest of the President of Korea In June that same year, 2000, Peter received a personal invitation from the President of the Republic of Korea, Kim Dae-jung, to participate in national ceremonies to mark the 50th anniversary of the start of the Korean War. He was flown over first class on Korean Airlines and this time he reveled at being one of and among and discussing the war and its aftermath with 500 veterans from 21 different nations! Peter’s fighting patrol Peter and I had served in the same unit in Korea, fought in the same battle, actually. I was part of a defensive team for Peter when he led a platoon-size fighting patrol one winter night and attacked a new enemy position. He got to them with uncanny stealth, considering the large size of his patrol, then hit them so hard with such devastating small arms fire that they up and withdrew from their newly dug positions - bugged out! It was very, very unusual for Chinese soldiers to concede; but the attack that went in had been ferocious and full on; not the textbook kind of thing. The enemy fled from Peter’s men but an enemy ambush team attacked me and my comrades at the same time. They were armed with an incredible number of light machineguns and the earth around us flashed with the striking bullets. Some touched the hair on my head. One soldier, Private Stanley Mudd, of Moosonee, Ontario, was hit several times. Two soldiers, Fred Schooley and a Private Sullivan, I believe from Calgary, rushed back into the enemy fire and brought him out. Stanley Mudd died while they carried him in their arms. In Peter’s platoon they had two casualties. A Corporal McKinnon was hit in the stomach with a ricocheting bullet and his signaler, Private MacNamara, from Chatham, Ontario, fell down and damaged his arm.

With the Veterans Affairs Pilgrimage in 2003 In July, 2003, I had the honour to be engaged by Veterans Affairs Canada (without pay) to serve as the Veterans Liaison Officer for the 2013 Veteran Affairs Canada Pilgrimage to Korea. Naturally enough I implored Peter to come with us. He was not overly keen on it, especially when VAC asked him to submit an application as a newsman. It was a formality, but Peter saw it as fawning for a paid trip abroad. He was a Korean War Veteran, well known, and rightfully VAC should have come to him. VAC had done that, through me, and I encouraged him to file the necessary request. On that visit – which admittedly was lavish and lasted 10 days, with the veterans staying at the best four star or five star hotels in Korea – Peter was superb. In many instances he took charge of events. He was looked up to by VAC staffers and by a contingent of Youth Canada high school graduates who traveled with us. He was also sought after by the VAC Minister of the day, Dr. Ray D. Pagtakhan, and when he arrived in Korea, Canada’s Chief of the Defence Staff, General Raymond Henault. He filled the General’s ears with good suggestions for improving Canada’s defence operations and he told Dr. Pagtakhan ways he could help Canada’s Korean War Veterans. At a huge dinner for the veterans, with 2,000 veterans and hosts and others seated, there was a Korean Ambassador for Peace Medal at every place setting that was reserved for a Canadian veteran. When Peter learned that one of the veterans at our table had been overlooked, he upped and went to another table – I believe a table with American veterans seated – and he swiped one as though he was empowered to pick it up. The host at the table was a senior executive with a Korean electronics company and he had a newly developed miniature cell phone with him. It had amazing clarity. He gave it to Peter to telephone home and he put through a call to his wife, Yvonne. He looked at me startled when she picked up. “She said ‘You’re drunk!’” he said. He wasn’t. Just then he was caught off guard by a haunting voice and the Korean lyrics of a new song never heard before, and for an instant his guard was down and he was captured by the music and listened a bit tenderly, the confessed that “she has a very pretty voice.” The singer was portrayed on a huge video screen and was wearing a white feather that completely covered the hair. Our host corrected that the singer was quite a sensation in Korea, with the professional name of Sally Garden, but whose real name was Lim Hyung Joo. The singer was a man. Worthington swallowed and his reverie ended. He feigned great embarrassment at his faux pas. Sally Garden does sing like a woman and the Korean young people of the day loved him, if he wanted to be known as a 'him.' The honoured speaker was retired American diplomat Henry Kissinger, and we were within arm’s reach of the head table and so very close to him. I forgot what he said, if I heard. I was far more interested in the quips and comments of my friend, Peter Worthington.

Grieving over the loss of two corporals Peter lost two of his corporals in Korea. One was killed and Peter held him dying, on the Hook position. Shrapnel had hit the young soldier’s neck and his blood was spraying everywhere. My platoon had served in the exact same position in November, and Peter’s had replaced ours in December. One of his other soldiers, a lance corporal, was killed on Hill 355 the following summer. Though Peter was prone to follow the old “Hemingway” pronouncement that “we don’t talk about casualties,” I saw him in Korea those many years later stiffen at mention of the names of those two good soldiers. He got uncharacteristically unfriendly for awhile, keeping questions about them from getting through his armor, where he grieved for those two men, and where he felt sorrow and some responsibility for their deaths. Good commanders usually do feel that way. He visited their graves in the United Nations Memorial Cemetery, without fanfare, almost slyly, so that others would not notice, for his celebrity was known among all of us. He later wrote about them in a column that focused on November 11 Remembrance Day. He did it a second time, in a future year as well. He wrote that he did feel responsible that they had died. He was impressed, on reflection, by how very young both of them had been. “Reminding” Canada about those who fought in Korea After the April revisit and the June visit as a distinguished guest of the Korean President, Peter wrote stories about his new experiences and his old in the war in the Toronto Sun and the other Sun newspapers. Canadians who read his columns got more understanding of the Korean War and the fact that nearly 30,000 Canadians had been involved in it, with the full backing of their government (to a certain point, at least in the earlier months). Yes, the war as it happened became unpopular after the first few months. Then it seemed just more of the same to an apathetic Canadian public during the full three years that it took to end it. If stories were published they cited strange, even weird sounding names of places nobody knew about, or cared about, and they chronicled colourless accounts of nameless hills, and of nameless men. Not all were nameless. Editors used casualty reports from the Department of National Defence as filler for news holes on various pages of their papers. Nobody ever looked deeply into the war while it was being fought, or why Canadians were there, or what they were doing there, or what they sadly faced when the returned home, if they did return. The brunt of most of the reporting was left to a single Canada Press reporter, the late Bill Boss. After those visits to Korea Peter took up in earnest the cause of the “forgotten” soldiers, sailors, airmen and women from Canada who had served in Korea, even in some cases extolling them for their resolve, their unflappable, dedicated conduct, and sometimes for their bravery – which we all know is fleeting. Moreover, he took on various Government ministries over some of their problems and brought constant pressure on them to “remember” that there were thousands of hurting Canadians who had fought in Korea, who needed support and help. Helping Kenneth Barwise, an army hero In the year 2003, when Peter had been a guest of the President of the Republic of Korea, only one other Canadian veteran had been invited there in the same status. His name was Kenneth Barwise. Ken had been awarded the Military Medal for bravery in the field for his service on Hill 677 in the Battle of Kapyong in April, 1951. They became near instant close friends, though Barwise had a long and ingrained dislike for officers and at six foot, seven inches and well over 300 pounds, was not bashful about joshing them. “Dislike” is too strong a term, for Ken did not dislike people. He felt sorry for those he thought did not measure up, but he did not dislike them. Still he was personally entertained knowing that sometimes the brass on an officer’s shoulders was not necessarily a badge that denoted highest intelligence. To this needs be added that Ken had the greatest respect for officers that he perceived as worthy of the leadership of him and his comrades – great, great respect. He would fight for them. And he had shown in Korea that he would die for them, if he had to. But he did try to spar with Peter Worthington, to feel him out. He found a match in Peter, whose hide didn’t permit penetration and whose steely eyes could look deep into any man. At that time in Korea Ken had just had his toes amputated because of diabetic complications. He was in pain, but masked it. A few years later Ken Barwise lost both legs, also because of the ravages of diabetes. Peter helped him through public comment in his columns, and by directly phoning various officials, to attain proper fixtures in Ken’s home in Penticton, so that he could safely evacuate in case of an emergency. Ken had been having considerable difficulty with the local Veterans Affairs Canada office trying to get the needed aid on his own. VAC assigned somebody specially to review the case and the alterations were made, as they should have been. A few years later, Ken died in the hospital recovery room after having surgery for colon cancer, which had been performed days after he underwent heart surgery. Peter then went to the aid of Ken Barwise’s surviving daughter, Jose Berckel, who had looked after him so faithfully. A technicality had prevented the Last Post Fund from paying for Ken’s funeral expenses. It had something to do with him getting back some money from the federal government; just enough to push him above the poverty line and so they would not pay the funeral director’s bill. His daughter Jose was stuck with the bill, although she had earlier been assured that Ken’s final expenses – he is a decorated war veteran – would be covered. Peter wrote about this indignity in his columns and got after Veterans Affairs and the independent Last Post Fund. Finding he was smashing his head on an impenetrable bureaucratic wall, Peter got on the telephone to Cliff Chadderton, himself a wounded and decorated veteran. Cliff was then the chairman of the National Council of Veterans Associations in Canada, although now, at age 94, he is in long term care at the Perley and Rideau Veterans Health Centre in Ottawa. Cliff Chadderton is a once promising hockey player who had been commissioned and decorated in the Canadian Army in World War Two. He had lost a leg fighting in Holland. Cliff was furious when Peter told him what was happening. He roared and blasted the system that was supposed to provide funds to ensure the final dignity for Canada’s War Veterans. He stormed in front of a meeting with Canada’s Veterans Ombudsman and his counselors. He took to the airways and was interviewed on radio and unleashed his fury. And in the end, he himself wrote a cheque and fully paid for Ken’s final expenses. Seeking Help for Major Henwood Ken was not the only double amputee that Peter Worthington assisted. He took up the cause of a Canadian officer, Major Bruce Henwood, who had lost both legs when his vehicle hit a land mine in Croatia in 1995. Major Henwood had been taken aback later to learn that his Service Income Security Insurance would pay nothing to compensate him from losing both limbs. His retirement benefits after 26 years of service and disability compensation payments from Veterans Affairs Canada were said to equal a high enough portion of his former income that the SIS insurance was not liable for paying additional compensation. Worthington took to the cause. In his columns he beat everyone, every department that he deemed needed beating, or intelligent reasoning – and Worthington could do it like no other! He had the skills and he had the compassion, and indignation that a badly wounded officer would be deprived of just rights because the Department of National Defence had an unsatisfactory insurance scheme in place for its soldiers. In these situations Peter would go beyond writing about them. He would interview the involved parties, of course, but he would also pick up the phone and directly scold anyone he thought wasn’t pulling his weight in getting things settled. Major Henwood later received a medal for getting DND to change its insurance scheme. Further, he received a commendation for doing it from Canada’s present Minister of Veterans Affairs, Steven Blaney. Peter, of course, a vigorous and strong supporter, received no recognition for his part – nor did he ever seek it. He just wanted right to be done. There were other cases where Worthington went into action to help Canadian veterans. Championing Warrant Officer Stopford Peter also beat many heads over the horrid situation faced by Warrant Officer Matt Stopford, who had come down with serious but mysterious ailments from causes incurred while serving in Croatia in 1963. It turned out, in 1969, that the military police investigating the situation finally advised Stopford that his own men had poisoned him, thus causing irreparable harm to many major organs, and the loss of one eye. At first Stopford had found the assertion ludicrous; even found courage to joke about it with some veterans. But when it was proven to him he understandably filed suit against the Department of National Defence for keeping the causes of his horrid maladies secret. Some of his men, fearing he was too aggressive in action in Croatia, had ignorantly wanted to “sicken him” so that he would be pulled out of battle. They did it by systematically and continuously drugging his coffee and food with small amounts of battery acid, eye drops, boot blacking. Horrid, indeed. The facts were known by 30 members of Stopford’s chain of command when it occurred in 1963, but he was not advised until six years later, in 1999. It was too late for any physicians to prescribe remedies. The physical harm was irreparable. Worthington wrote and he phoned and he put on the pressure throughout the whole terrible ordeal for Stopford. Stopford’s “victory” was not really a fair one by any means, but unable to fend for himself with his productive life gone, it was deemed better than none. It was trivial and shameful compared to his great loss and suffering. He reportedly was given $625,000 by DND as a buy out settlement from the $7.5 million lawsuit his lawyer had filed – less than $100,000 a year for his horrible suffering. Most writers would not touch such a scandal ridden, such an unconscionable and complex story, but Worthington got right into it - into its basics. He got into how horribly Stopford was physically injured, and how stupid the Canadian Army officers who knew about it had been. That they were members of Worthington’s own Regiment did deter him. He did not fear to tread where others would not go. He loved to go where others feared to tread! Defending Captain Semrau In these allegedly rights sensitive, politically correct times, few, indeed would have championed Captain Robert Semrau. Peter not only championed him but admired him as an accomplished and fit soldier, a Canadian who had first served as an officer with the British Army, and then with the Royal Canadian Regiment in Afghanistan. The 36-year old soldier, leading a mentoring team that was taking Afghan forces on a fighting patrol, came on the aftermath of a battle where Canadian soldiers had fought with the Taliban insurgents. A helicopter gunship had come to their aid and devastated the enemy fighters. Semrau and his team came on a horribly wounded Taliban fighter who could not be taken back for medical aid and whom some of the Afghan soldiers were disposed to torture and further mutilate. The soldier had lost his legs, was disemboweled, barely alive. Semrau shot the man to end his misery and spare him from those who would savage him more. He moved on with his fighting patrol. Not pretty, but done. Peter, with his own battle experience, could not come to grips with one of Semrau’s soldiers pressing charges against him. He also understood how the action, as expressed by liberal news media, would not have a fair hearing with the general public. He argued in his columns that combat action changes one’s psyche. One has to be there to know it. He wanted Semrau tried by battle experienced soldiers, not by administrators and others who had never been under fire. He rounded up combat witnesses, including me, and he volunteered himself to personally testify at the court martial. I would have told how on the first morning on the Hook position, following our counterattack, I sat eating a can of cold combat rations with blood under my finger nails from the wounded soldiers I had helped the day before, and a couple of yards from me was the body of a Chinese soldier whom I had shot in the darkness when he and his brave friends had tried to creep up on and shoot up my little firing team. The enemy soldier could not be moved by daylight. Trying to do it would have made one target for nearby snipers, or fodder for the too accurate enemy mortars. I could have said more than that about how one changes when he has walked on the bodies of friends and traded fire with an enemy intent on killing him and his comrades, and when he is deprived of sleep and under constant threat from the sudden, hissing mortar bombs that drop straight down and in our experience, chopped some of our men to bits. Captain Semrau at first has been charged with murder. He declined Peter’s earnest and enthusiastic offer, believing that the court martial officers, all well educated professionals, would accord him justice. They kicked him out of the Canadian Army with disgraceful comments on his documentation. We thought it was disgraceful for the authors. They took away his officer’s rank, medals and all of his pending pay, and set the young married man adrift. The head of the court martial who had never served in combat, even read a public statement, scolding Captain Semrau, saying he had committed a disgraceful act that had demoralized the men of his patrol. Peter and I both know that wounded enemy soldiers in Korea had sometimes been shot where they lay. Not always, of course, in fact very seldom, but sometimes, depending on the moment’s unique circumstances. I gave him testimony to use in that regard. Some soldiers had even shot wounded men with vengeful hatred and malice. War is not a game and war is not Bay Street in Toronto. Saying he had made a mistake, used bad judgment, would be understood. But a disgraceful act? All acts in war are disgraceful if measured out of their context. One does not ever shoot or blow up an enemy soldier with grace! I thought it was disgraceful in 1951 when Canada’s Minister of National Defence visited Korea and actually pulled the lanyard to fire a 25-pounder shell onto an enemy position – a civilian, likely killing and maiming Chinese soldiers. That seems wantonly disgraceful. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder On the matter of post traumatic stress disorder, something that laid low many Canadian veterans of the Korean War and other wars – and kept them down and corralled in their own memories and horrors and prevented their advancement and peace in many cases – I saw Peter change on that drastically. In Korea at lunch in 2003 he seemed to think it was a legendary malady; not that the soldiers were making it up, but that it wasn’t a proven medical condition and that he did not know anyone afflicted by it. He had said he didn’t think many veterans went to sleep at night and dreamt of or had nightmares about the war. Peter did not believe things unless there was strong and logically sound evidence for their existence. But along the line in future years he did meet others who did have the bad dreams. And of course, being of brilliant mind, strong convictions, and not one who would be swayed by one or two attestations, he researched the subject. I believe that he spoke with General Romeo Dallaire, now Senator Dallaire, who has suffered with PTSD since his horrible experiences during the genocides in Rwanda and that made a deep and lasting impression. Without making an “ah ha, I have discovered that PTSD really is a medical condition after all,” Peter’s columns began simply reflecting that it was. Bless that good soldier, that great Canadian, that very, very good man. His support for Canada’s servicemen was unequivocal and applied with fervor regardless of an individuals rank, gender, age, military affiliation. Scolding Korea Veterans Association officers Peter even fought the Korea Veterans Association of Canada at times. One year the KVA took it upon itself to change the way allocations were made for veterans who wanted to participate in the Korean Government’s veterans revisit program. Korean legislation provides (at that time) that the Korean Government will pay the full expenses while in Korea of a Korean War Veteran and his wife or next of kin. The veteran at that time had to pay for their air fare to and from Korea. KVA Canada enacted a policy of its own whereby it refused to let wives or next of kin participate. It stipulated by its own edict in Canada that only the veterans could go. However, in many cases, veterans would not go alone, and at any rate, the KVA action was not in line with Korean legislation. Yet the veterans organization that was then managing the program in Korea winked at the Canadian action. They let it happen, instead of having friction. Peter beat many people up about it. Finally KVA Canada’s program of antipathy for wives and caregivers crumbled on its own. It was unsound. Now, with the program being managed by Korea’s Ministry of Patriots and Veterans Affairs, the Korean government also picks up half of the veteran’s air fare to Korea and 30 percent of the air fare of his wife, his next of kin guest, or his caregiver. On the most recent revisit in April this year, Veterans Affairs Minister Steven Blaney had his Ministry reimburse the portion of air fare that the veterans had paid for – to the delight of all participants. Peter wanted to visit Korea this year Peter was planning to return to Korea a couple of years ago and I had arranged things so that he and his wife, Yvonne, could participate in an MPVA revisit. Peter made the arrangement, even though he knew he would be having pacemaker surgery just a couple of weeks before the departing flight. A few days after the surgery he contacted me to ask if he could beg off. He said the aftermath was so severe that he could not take a cup from the cupboard without feeling intense residual pain – and Peter bore up under pain well. He could not see himself sitting for 13 ours on the flight to Korea. He had wanted to go there this July, and he had wanted to take Yvonne, but of course, Peter passed away and left us sometime on May 12, which was on Mother’s Day. The Order of Canada Many Canadians, veterans included, groused that Peter had never been awarded the Order of Canada. Without question he is and always will be one of Canada’s greatest newsmen. Probably nobody will surpass his most singular achievements, of which he himself was most modest. He told me that he did not deserve an Order of Canada; that he had simply been doing his job. But we all know that is not true. Doing a job is something the bread and butter type reporters who rely on news release handouts at press conferences do. Peter worked day in and day out. He was always covering the things going on around him and far, far away from him. He was working day and night. He was a great artist. He was not just writing the first page of history, chronicling something that had happened. He was there ahead of that history and in many cases he was trying hard to make the history happen – for the good! And sometimes he did. Peter would not mind, but alas, weeks before Peter left us, our good friend, Colonel (Retired) Chip Bowness, who has been resident in Bangkok, Thailand for many years, was preparing a recommendation to have Peter awarded the Order of Canada. I would have been one of the sponsors and there would have been little trouble naming two more who are luminaries in Canada, and whose endorsement would have made Peter a shoo-in. I think he would have accepted the award humbly, but would have commented that he wasn’t convinced he deserved it. Fighting the Canadian War Museum When the Canadian War Museum opened its doors in May, 2005 and all other reporters were singing its praises – it had cost a lot of money and the British War Museum, perhaps to our detriment, had been the consulting organization for establishing many of the exhibits – Peter tore into it with tenacity. Not only were the walls of the Korean War Room covered with inaccurate information and photographs – using statistical data that referenced the first soldiers who were accepted into the Special Force to serve in Korea, and applying it as standard for all soldiers who served throughout the three-year period – there was an infamous and egregious panel that alleged that a horribly high number of Canadian soldiers had contracted a venereal disease while in Korea. Nowhere else in the museum, not for any of the wars, was their any reference to soldiers contracting VD! We were stunned by this alleged “statistic,” that was presented to portray the character and makeup of Canada’s Special Force soldiers! Peter and I convened on this and agreed that, of the two companies we served in, we knew not of a single man who had contracted VD in Korea! Soldiers know of such things. Every platoon knows if somebody is on sick call, whether with a cold or the mumps or a sliver of shrapnel. We weren’t in Korea on a picnic, or on soirees, or carousing. Like the 1st Battalion troops that had landed the year before us, our Battalion went straight from dockside to the front. Within days our companies were launching a counterattack against enemy forces! Soldiers were killed and wounded. For us, Korea was hills and not communities where we could mingle with civilians; we never really knew where we were at. We lived in the dirt and in fear. It was war and it was damned horrible. The sign in the Canadian War Museum was an obvious slur on our soldiers who had fought in Korea, for why was the subject even broached and plastered on a wall for the minions to see? It was outrageous, but the curators would not yield. I personally was prepared to bring a class action lawsuit for libel, if such could be brought for some 23,000 Canadians who had served on land in Korea. Many veterans would have kicked in to pay the lawyer’s fees. Peter bashed the museum, the curators, the alleged statistics. I think he got them on the phone as well, of course. Another veteran, Michael Czuboka, who holds two masters degrees and is a retired public school superintendent in also launched a bitter, penetrating letter campaign with the responsible curator. At one point that delighted Peter and made him say, “He’s a tiger!” Michael had demanded to know if the curator had any personal courage! That drew a response! The president of the Korea Veterans Association of Canada, the legendary Les Peate, also met with the responsible curator. The sign was cut out of the wall and something placed there in its stead. I think the replacement referenced something else almost as stupid, the number of accidental injuries that occurred in Korea. In Afghanistan in his mid-70’s These are only a few of the things Peter did for us, for our veterans, for our serving men and women. He fastidiously wrote about operations in Afghanistan, went their twice of his own volition, although he was then in his mid-seventies, and he rode with the front line troops on the backs of their armoured vehicles and wore the heavy body armor and helmet in the intense desert heat. I contacted him in the field and asked him to arrange to be photographed and have the picture e-Mailed to me. But for that we might not have a pictorial reference of that brave man with the troops in that long and controversial war. It is ironic that the first Canadian troops to serve in Afghanistan constituted the Princess Patricias Canadian Light Infantry 3rd Battalion Battle Group, under Colonel Patrick Stogran, who later became Canada’s first Veterans Ombudsman. The Battalion was the successor to the one Peter and I had served in in Korea more than half a century before. Peter had conversations with Pat Stogran that also gave him knowledge of some of the maladies soldiers face and need treatment for. We should not forget that throughout this, Peter was focusing on virtually everything that happened in Canadian federal government, in Toronto and in provincial governments as well, in American politics, and in nations all over the world, or that he was not a sedentary worker, but moved quickly all over the world, often with his wife Yvonne; but wherever he went, he kept working. Complimentary column about a book He wrote a column that focused on me about a year or so ago. It had to do with a book manuscript that I had written. It was published in Korea by the Ministry of Patriots and Veterans Affairs so that we could distribute it as a gift to Canadian veterans who are in long term care hospitals. Our good veteran friends, including Terry Wickens, then the KVA Canada national president, and Bill Black, president of the KVA Canada Ottawa Unit, did distribute many of the books to veterans in the various hospitals. So did Senator Yonah Martin, who not only delivered them to veteran hospitals in British Columbia, but in some cases read parts of the book to them. Peter told me that the manuscript was very good, that he had read it like in the days of Charles Dickens, when an excerpt would be published periodically in one of the newspapers. That is the way that veterans who were not in long term care hospitals were able to read it in Canada, in chapters on the Internet. Peter wrote a most touching article about the book and its distribution to veterans. I treasure it. Accolade about Internet journal When I became ill for awhile and indicated I would back off on publishing the Internet journal that is called The Korean War Veteran, Peter – who had encouraged me a decade ago never to stop publishing it – sent a personal message saying he had kept every edition on file and used the file for his references. That would be an amazing accolade, for he was not a file keeper or maintainer. Decades back, during the Trudeau era, when Peter had been charged under the Official Secrets Act for naming known Soviet dissidents in his paper, the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and others had burst into his newspaper office and did an impromptu search. His colleagues gleefully watched through the window glass, chuckling that his office was in such a perpetual mess that they would never find anything, since he could not. They found a certain letter they were looking for after tearing everything apart. It was in one of Peter’s desk drawers. To say he had kept and used my own columns from The Korean War Veteran for his regular use is probably the greatest accolade I have received for reporting, or writing, or whatever one night want to call that work. Greatest honour of all But there is still a greater accolade, something that cannot be taken away from me and it is one of the highest honours any man could ever receive. I am able to say with conviction that Peter Worthington and I were friends. I thank him for having known him. I thank him for that honour. I will miss him. I still cannot believe that if I phone his office or his home that he will not be there to answer the phone.

Vince Courtenay