The names of the fallen in the First and Second World Wars are etched in the granite cenotaph that stands in front of Lethbridge city hall.
They intrigued fourth-year University of Lethbridge Canadian studies student Brett Clifton. And intrigue is what he found when he began to document the men and their stories.
Some who died in the war are not listed. Some are listed who did not die. And some who are listed never existed.
Clifton attributes the errors to faulty records, transient populations, spelling errors and the foibles of human nature. He should know, because he spent an estimated 3,528 hours of research time looking into the histories of the 262 names of First World War casualties and 130 names of Second World War dead.
Read Also
Agri-business and farms front and centre for Alberta’s Open Farm Days
Open Farm Days continues to enjoy success in its 14th year running, as Alberta farms and agri-businesses were showcased to increase awareness on how food gets to the dinner plate.
Clifton published his findings in two volumes of They Never Came Home: The Lethbridge Cenotaph Project,which are available online at www.uleth.ca/lib. He also shared the information, along with photos of individuals and in many cases their gravesites, with descendants of the war dead.
“That was the most rewarding part,” said Clifton. “I couldn’t have imagined a better way to spend my time.”
But before the sharing came the research.
Inspired by a school trip to Vimy Ridge, the Canadian First World War memorial in France, Clifton decided to look into each name on the cenotaph back home.
He found 30 spelling errors in the First World War list and three in the Second World War list. Some of the errors had been there since 1931 and some were accidentally introduced when the cenotaph was refurbished in the 1980s due to weathering and vandalism.
J.P. Robertson had become I.P. Robertson, for example. Banter should have been Baxter and Muirhead should have been Moorhead.
Using census records, attestation forms, Commonwealth War Graves Commission records and dogged patience, Clifton forged his way to what he believes are truths about the list.
Yet mysteries remain. He found nothing about three people listed as fallen in the Second World War: A. Hunham, L. Cherberland and P.J. McCreig.
Clifton speculates they are accidental duplicate names referring to A. Huxham, L. Chamberland and P.J.M. Greig, who are also on the list.
He has been unable to identify five men from the First World War— J. Bird, W. Hill, A.N. Humphries, J. Wilson and C. Wood — and two from the Second — T.J. Russell and J.D. White.
As well, “a surprising number of people who were alive and well in 1931 are on the cenotaph,” he said. In several cases where two brothers enlisted, the survivor was listed instead of the deceased.
Then there’s the story of James Peter Robertson, who was awarded the Victoria Cross. He was from Medicine Hat and from everywhere else too.
“Robertson was working for the Canadian Pacific Railway and when he died (in the First World War), all the towns and cities on the CPR line from Medicine Hat to the (Crowsnest) Pass claimed Robertson on their cenotaphs,” said Clifton.
“So you see him in Medicine Hat, you see him in Lethbridge, you see him in Fort Macleod, you see him in the pass.”
James Wordie, who served with the 113th Lethbridge Highlanders, ended up on the cenotaph with the fallen, even though he died in Calgary in 1976, according to Clifton’s research.
“He was supposed to come back in 1919 and didn’t come back. His wife and everybody assumed he was dead. Then he turned up. He told everyone that he (had been) knocked unconscious, lost his dog tags, was left for dead, and then picked up. Since no one knew who he was, they couldn’t report that he was all right.”
However, it turned out that Wordie spent part of the war hospitalized with venereal disease and was loath to tell his wife, Clifton said.
It was one example of stories he uncovered involving human frailty, but his book is meant as a tribute, not an exposé, so he chose circumspection in reporting various details.
He also strived for universality of treatment in his book, so every account has the same structure and length regardless of rank.
Clifton believes the list on the cenotaph is incomplete and represents only about half of the locals who made the ultimate sacrifice.
But the transient nature of people in the early part of the 20th century, lost records and faulty memories couldn’t be overcome.
Even if all the names were known, Clifton said changing the cenotaph is an emotionally charged issue and better left alone.
As for those who want to undertake similar historical research projects, his advice is simple.
“The most important thing is don’t miss the chance to talk to people before it’s too late. It’s important to write the stories down from the people who were there.”
