More on Uncle Roy, the War Hero

When the Cummer family history was being updated in the 1970s, Carl B. Cummer — the youngest of the seven Cummer siblings — wrote this about Royden (Roy) Cummer, the subject of the blog about the family piano.

“Roy was born in Ontario where he received his schooling. On the arrival of the family to Calgary, he was employed as a mail sorter at the old sandstone post office which stood on the southeast corner of 8th Avenue and 1st Street East, and which was subsequently destroyed by fire.

Back Row: Jack, Harold, Roy; Front Row: Wilda, Fred W., (father), Carl, Ada; abseent: charlie, the eldest who who lived in Edmonton; margaret robertson Cummer (mother) who died in 19112.

“He was a handsome and lovable fellow with an extraordinary personality. He had a host of friends, was admired and respected by both sexes, particularly by the girls.

“Prior to the war of 1914-1918, for recreation and pleasure he had a motorcycle which he handled skillfully. He wanted to enlist but was short-sighted in one eye and in consequence was unable to read the the eye chart with that eye. He overcame that problem by memorizing the chart, passed the eye examination and enlisted in the 82nd Battalion. Soon thereafter he was on his way to Camp Petawawa in Ontario for military training, then overseas with the Canadian Expeditionary Forces. As was the case with many Canadian units, the 82nd Battalion was dispersed and its members amalgamated into other units on their arrival in England. Roy was transferred to the Yukon Machine Gun Brigade where he was trained as a motorcycle despatch rider and made a Corporal.

“He distinguished himself during the war by volunteering for dangerous missions, one of which was rewarded by the Military Medal and another by the award of the Belgian Croix de Guerre, an honour bestowed on only seven Canadians. He was a modest person and only divulged the details of that exploit on his return from overseas, after a considerable amount of coaxing by his youngest brother who was bedridden at the time. A Belgian unit was about to be surrounded by the Germans. It was imperative that a despatch rider get through to them with a message. Other means of communication had been cut off. The only access to the endangered Belgians was by way of a shell-torn road which was under heavy artillery fire as well as machine gun fire from enemy planes. By dodging shell holes and zig-zagging the line of fire from the German aircraft he managed to get through with the message which saved the Belgian unit from being captured.

“He had numerous narrow escapes during the war. One night when he was behind the front line, carrying a full can of gasoline under his arm, he was puzzled to find it getting lighter. When he went to fill the tank of his motorcycle he discovered that an enemy bullet had gone end-to-end through the can and about half of his gasoline had leaked out. But for that quirk of fate, he would surely have lost an arm.

“Several times he was offered promotion in the ranks which he turned down, preferring not to be placed in greater authority over his pals in the unit whose friendship and the spirit of camaraderie meant more to him.

“Roy was severely wounded by shrapnel during the last push toward Germany in 1918.

“Many of the Canadian soldiers billeted in England following the war, pending their return home, met and married English girls and brought their war brides back to Canada with them. Roy billeted with the family of a British industrialist whose daughter fell in love with him. The father encouraged the romance and made him an offer of a responsible position in the business should the romance culminate in marriage. Roy was neither sufficiently enamored by the girl nor the offer and returned to Calgary to resume working at the post office, where he was placed in charge of the night sorting staff.

“He contributed generously from his income to the well-being and upkeep of the family home and was responsible for many of the amenities the family had been deprived of, such as a Victrola and a piano.

“His sudden death at the age of 29, caused by a cerebral hemorrhage resulting from his war wound, was a shock not only to his family but to his many friends.”

Irish Decameron

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