Private George Hiram Borman
643939
Born Orillia ON, 1889
Enlisted with 157th Simcoe Foresters Battalion
Dad to Marguerite
Private William McCall
690758
Born, Glasgow Scotland 1888
Enlisted with the 173rd Argyle and Sutherland Battalion
Dad to Elizabeth and Jesse
Private Henry Knight Eastwood
690764
Born Burnley, Lancashire, England
Enlisted with the 173rd Argyle and Sutherland Battalion
Dad to Robert, Winifred and Gladys
All three men are buried at Oxford Road Cemetery, Wieljte, Belgium
Spring finally arrived in the city of Hamilton when winter’s frosty hold finally lost its’ firm grip on the city. With the welcoming of the new season, a fresh draft of men lined up to be served as much needed resources for the war machine chugging away over there. The battles of 1915 waged an ever-growing tally leading to the colonies to be asked to help out in the supply of more men for the allied war effort. And thus…in towns, villages and cities across the country new queues of eager patriots began to form. On the 10th of April in 1917 whether it be by coincidence or chance itself one particular line began to form that ended up resulting in an example of the most tragic of coincidental circumstances. For within one that formed in downtown Hamilton, two men standing approximately six paces apart from one another, would in a little more than a year and half end up lying 3 paces apart, together, forever interred in Wieljte, Belgium’s Oxford Road Cemetery. Between them was a third man. All three were Canadians, fathers and privates serving in the 116th Ontario County Battalion. It was on the 23rd day in October when their war effort would each come to an end mere hours after arriving at the Passchendaele front.
Henry Knight Eastwood (Plot 1 G 5 at Oxford Road Cemetery), was the father of three and husband of Edith. At 37 years of age he was the oldest of the trio who fell that day. He left his job as a potter and took his place with the 173rd Argyle and Sutherland Battalion. (for the inquisitive, a potter was one who makes pots for a living. Pots…not pot) His service number was 690764. The man standing six digits away and hence possibly six paces ahead of him in line was the 29 year old William McCall (Plot 1 G 9 at Oxford Road Cemetery). He responded to Service Number 690758. Native of Glasgow and immigrant to Canada, he was the husband to Jean and father of one and one on the way. William left his job as a rivetter at the Steel Company of Canada to join the war. William was youthful looking, fresh-faced and sported a faint sparkle in his eye that hinted of regular bouts of comic banter. The odd coincidence of proximity of the pair would carry them through training, transport to England, transfer to the 116th and all the way to one unfortunate place and time.
George Hiram Borman (Plot 1 G 6 at Oxford Road Cemetery) was the third father to join the trio on that fateful day. He was a young 28 years old man. Married to Agnes Elizabeth, the buoyant, fresh-faced and ambitious lad worked at the Canada Wood Specialty Company in his hometown of Orillia. Many a turned spindle bore the makers mark of one George Borman. He signed up with the 157th Simcoe Foresters Battalion on Jan 27th in 1916. Like his mates from the 173rd, he too was trained in England before being transferred to the 116th a couple months prior to the battalion being shipped off to France.
Circumstance brought the three together on the 23rd of October. General Arthur Currie has been called by Lt. General Douglas Haig to help him put a win on the board. The year was coming to a close and the combined allied force of Great Britain, New Zealand and Australia has lost over 200,000 men to the mud at Passchendaele. With the winter rapidly approaching and Haig facing the combined prospect of a further entrenched German position hosting a million-odd troops that were soon to arrive from the Russian front meant that time was of the essence. The Passchendaele Ridge had to be taken and the only allied army with sufficient manpower, muscle and morale were the Canadians.
While the attack was planned for Oct 26th, Currie would not send his men over the top until he was good and ready. This meant he needed his men to be well-trained, well-entrenched and well supplied. With the 116th Battalion arriving in the theatre on the 22nd of October, it would be their job to help provide some of the muscle. Their job included moving tons of war supplies, ordinance and ammunition to the front lines atop a network of short rail tracks that also had to be built. The transport system was necessary to move the massive amounts of material up to the front. The men also had to construct countless miles of duckboard tracking that would give the men something to walk on as they approached the front. The job of the 116th and fellow battalions was as essential as it was immense.
And yet…on the 23rd there they were. Barely enough time for their boots to get encrusted in mud…eager, ready and willing to do their bit. To be there amongst the lads. Chance conversations bantered enroute to their next assigned task of hauling supplies. One can easily visualize the three dads flashing those ever so familiar smiles that always accompanied the mention of the names Jesse, Rob, Margurite, Winifred, Beth or wee Gladys. They were three dad’s who left their young in the care of their wives, hopeful, confident but entirely unsure they would ever return. And yet, tragically, they were three lads who were forever lost to another random shell that just happened to land where they just happened to be walking. Today they rest, shoulder to shoulder, in passing as when they were alive, together, emboldened by the shared awareness and knowledge that somewhere the descendants of the little ones who shared their name still think of them and thank them for what they did.
Remember them.