They lined us up - upon the street
We just had been in a sad defeat,
And now facing a three mile trek -
Into the City of Dieppe.
We started off across the hill
and tried to march with all our will.
The marching caused our blood to ooze
then began our blood to lose.
We had just arrived at the edge of town,
when I felt faint, and then fell down.
The German yelled, "no one must stop!" -
So they left me there - where I had dropped.
I sensed that someone else was near,
and opened my eyes in a kind of fear.
There - on the cobblestones she knelt -
An Angel in a tartan kilt.
As she looked down, I heard her say -
Mon poure grand blesse,
and pressed the wine to my lips,
but only managed a couple of sips.
The biscuit too I could not eat
as she kept saying, mange, mange mon petite.
She was doing her best to bring help for me -
And I could only answer - "merci - merci".
She tossed her hair - her nostrels flared,
"Sal boch", she spat and dropped my head -
It struck with a bang on that cold hard stone!
She fled, and left me on my own.
What caused a girl to risk her life?
In the midst of chaos and human strife,
What moved her - to give aid to me -
She could easily have been shot - you see.
Madonas become sacred as old they grow,
It's then they develop a kind of glow,
and I know that this occurred with mine -
For over the years - she began to shine.
I searched for her twice in thirty years.
She's gone forever, now I fear.
Perhaps this is the best for me -
As I would like to live - "my re'verie"
In July of 1987, I was Sec/Treas of the S.S.R. Ass'n, B.C. Division, and as Murray Osten was President, the Reunion was held in his home town - Chilliwack. I was visiting with Murray and Betty at their home the day before the Reunion commenced, and of course he had some great stories to tell me - as he was one of the orginal Officers of the Regiment. He was A/Major of "A" Coy during the Dieppe Raid, was wounded during the action at Pourville and taken prisoner. He told me the story of a young French girl who attempted to bandage his wound - and offered him some wine and a bite to eat, but the German guards chased her away. During the evening, Murray showed me some of his keepsakes - one, a carved replica of a S.S.R. Cap Badge, which was done by an Australian Officer friend in Colditz, and also showed me a 'photo of himself - (about 18 years of age) dressed in coveralls, complete with the wide braces, a tweed cap (every farmer wore one in those days - he told me). And his trusted friend - his dog "Rags". Murray presented me with a "hand written copy of his poem" - MY DREAM - which I still have in my Files/Records to this day.
Murray was arwarded the Military Cross, for his leadership and bravery in action - on 19 August 1942 at Pourville. Murray was a fine gentleman - and well liked by all ranks in the Regiment.
He was known to enjoy "a wee dram - or two"
Everyone misses Murray - and shall never forget him.
P-7521
P.T. Maule,
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