Bombardier Ken Burr, 21, was in the midst of intense fighting, thousands of kilometres from his family home on Lakeshore Road, when he began receiving care packages from Sarnia. His mother, Hattie, had thoughtfully numbered each one and, from her son's many letters home from France and Holland in the latter half of 1944, she knew that he had received each package. Ken began each letter with his now familiar salutation “Dear Maw” and thanked Hattie for her kindness. He appreciated any comforts his family provided because he let them know the war was “no damn fun” and the Germans were “playing for keeps”.
Ken had arrived in France on July 26, 1944, after enlisting nearly two years before. According to letters that his parents later received, Ken had gone to France only a short time after the June 1944 D-Day invasion, and he had been in Germany with the Canadian Forces. Following the Allied breakout from Normandy in late August 1944, the Canadians were assigned the Long Left Flank and faced a series of less glamorous but vital tasks: clearing coastal areas in the north of France and Belgium of German occupiers; opening the English Channel ports for supplies essential to the Allied advance; and capturing the launching sites of German V-1 rockets.
In a series of stop-and-start advances against stiff resistance in fortified positions that continued into early October, the Canadians liberated ports and villages including Rouen, Dieppe, Dunkirk, Boulogne and Calais. In September 1944, Ken advanced from the rank of lance bombardier to the rank of full bombardier, with the Royal Canadian Artillery, 2 Survey Regiment.
About the time Ken attained his new rank, Allied forces had captured the inland port of Antwerp, Belgium, the second greatest port in Europe at the mouth of the Scheldt River; however, German forces still controlled the 45-mile-long Scheldt estuary (the Belgian-Dutch border area) that connected the port of Antwerp to the North Sea. Beginning in early October 1944, the Canadians were entrusted with liberating the estuary. The five-week-long Battle of the Scheldt, waged from October 1 to November 8, 1944, was one of the most gruelling struggles in the war as Canadians fought to liberate the German-controlled estuary.
Taking place in northern Belgium and the Netherlands, it was the beginning of the Liberation of the Netherlands. The bitter fighting in the Scheldt estuary against a well-fortified and heavily entrenched enemy was made worse by the harsh conditions. Bitter winter temperatures in a wet and muddy quagmire proved challenging, but the Allies prevailed. The cost of victory was high—the Canadians suffered more than 6,300 casualties.
Ken's regiment was always on the move, but he somehow found time to write home often. His personable, good-natured, and positive outlook on life shone in his letters. Without fail, he asked about his friends in Sarnia—and often mentioned soldiers from Sarnia he had met overseas. He especially wanted news about his father, Gordon, and his siblings, whom he referred to as “the angels.” He found time to write to all his siblings and remembered special occasions to send birthday, Christimas, and Valentine's Day cards. One letter he wrote to his five-year-old sister, Ruth Ann, began with “Dear Root” and asked if she was “big enough to beat up on Jerry [her older brother] yet?” He later mentioned that “I haven't seen any little girls over here as nice looking as you but I have seen some that behaved a lot better.”
He inquired about events in Lambton County, such as the Brigden Fair and duck hunting season, and disclosed that since he was cutting the hair of some of the men in his troop, he was known as the “barber.” With the harsh winter of 1944 approaching, Ken asked Hattie if she could send some warm leather or hand-made woollen knitted mittens to keep his hands warm. Hattie was up to the task. In Ken's time overseas she had sent him coats, cigarettes, and even a bottle of booze hidden in a hollowed out loaf of bread.
It was hard for soldiers not to think ahead. The victory at the Battle of the Scheldt had led Ken to think that the war would soon be over and that he'd be returning home for good. He told Hattie he was saving money to take her on a big trip when he got home. His six months of service meant he had earned a leave next January and he planned to visit sites in England and Scotland where he had trained. For the time being though, he was satisfied. He had a decent job with the survey regiment and knew a promotion was also upcoming. Part of his duty was driving a motorcycle ahead of the lines and doing reconnaissance work for his regiment. This suited Ken just fine. He loved operating any sort of vehicle, and with the bonus money owed him after the war ended he planned on buying a new motorcycle.
He had always liked driving. Family members recalled that Ken owned both a Harley motorcycle and a car. He'd often park his car at the side of the road near the family home, and holler, “Maw, I’m home” before he came into the house. Then Ruth Ann and Jerry climbed into the rumble seat and Ken drove them to the corner store to pick out a treat. He had plans after the war to learn arc welding, but he eventually planned on starting his own trucking business.
Enlisting was, of course, a major decision in his life. He was only 19 and was in a serious relationship with a young woman from Sarnia, but serving Canada won out. When a letter from the government arrived encouraging him to enlist, Ken did so. He reasoned that if he enlisted early, he'd get to choose in what capacity he would serve. Ken didn't want to fight with the infantry; he much preferred the technical aspects of the war, so serving in the artillery suited him best. Part of his military training was taking driver's and motor mechanic's courses in Woodstock and London after he enlisted on October 23, 1942. Later, he passed his motor mechanic trades tests in both Ontario and England. He became the mechanic who looked after his regiment's vehicles during the war.
Now, at 21, he was a seasoned veteran of the Canadian army whose soldiers had earned a well-deserved rest after the Battle of the Scheldt. This so-called “quiet time” was misleading since the front, the site of constant patrols and large-scale raids, was never quiet.
By mid-November 1944, the Royal Canadian Artillery, 2 Survey Regiment had joined thousands of Canadian troops stationed along the Nijmegen salient in the Netherlands, close to the Germany border and north of the Maas River. Defending the Nijmegen bridgehead was crucial. This piece of ground held the only bridge across the main course of the Rhine. With access to the bridge, the Allies could use it as a starting point for crossing the Rhine in February.
The Germans did their best to push the Canadians out of the area by flooding the land and constantly harassing them with mortar fire, artillery, and aggressive patrols. Constantly vigilant, the men dug deep slit trenches, covered them with whatever was handy, and tried to keep warm from the snow and cold during one of the most frigid winters on record in northern Europe. During this supposedly “quiet period” between November 9 and December 31, 1944, approximately 1,239 Canadians were killed or wounded.
Unfortunately, Ken was one of them.
On Thursday, December 28, an enemy shell exploded close to where Ken had been standing. The shell fragments knocked him unconscious and the young Sarnian died minutes later. The news stunned the entire Burr family. Eight decades have passed, but Ruth Ann still remembers the phone call at her parents' house on Lakeshore Road. The family waited quietly as her father took the news that a telegram with details of Ken's death was waiting to be picked up.
Perhaps their grief was eased a bit by the letter they received a few days later from Lieutenant R. W. Emmans, Ken's commanding officer. Emmans knew Ken better than any other officer and wanted Gordon and Hattie to know what a fine person their son was. The officer wrote that Ken “was admired and liked by everyone who came into contact with him and without exception he was considered by all to be a man, a fine soldier, and a gentleman. During our period of fighting he had become irreplaceable.”
Hattie also received letters from Dutch citizens who expressed their gratitude for how Ken had assisted their families. In early February 1945, a memorial service for Ken was held in Trinity Anglican Church in Sarnia Township, conducted by the Rev. G.C. Stone.
Shortly after the war ended, the Director, War Service Records sent Hattie a photograph of Ken's grave and the marking sitting atop his burial place in Nijmegen, Holland. Hattie was very upset and disappointed that she was never able to personally visit Ken's gravesite. She corresponded frequently with a minister's wife from Holland who took flowers to the cemetery on behalf of her and her family. Hattie had really hoped to be selected as one of the Memorial Cross mothers to go overseas for a memorial service. She had even begun the process of getting her birth certificate if she was chosen. Unfortunately, she had young children at the time and the committee selected older mothers.
A number of Ken's relatives, however, visited his grave in the Netherlands. In March 1963, Ken's brother, Jimmy, and his wife, Yvonne, named their son Ken in honour of his uncle.
Twenty-one-year-old Kenneth Burr is buried in Groesbeek Canadian War Cemetery, Netherlands, Grave II.F.7. On his headstone are inscribed the words, AT REST.