When she was in her ‘teens, she joined her older sister, Elsie, and the two of them went to “America” as “Nannies” in Boston. Her favorite family, had a son called “Edgar Carter Rust”, of whom Helen was fond…so much so,she named her oldest son,”Edgar”, and gave him an embossed cup. She stayed in Boston approximately, two years, and then returned to Scotland about 1920, to marry Alexander MCWilliam. He had been a friend of her brother, Willie, as the two of them had been Apprentice Machinists together. Willie Dawson had already decided to go to Saint John,N.B. and work for a company called MacAvity, and then transferred to C.P.R. Repair Shop, 80 miles away, in McAdam, N.B.

Newly married, Alex and Helen McWilliam, moved to McAdam,N.B. where Alex took the only job available of Town Constable. He was not happy being a Policeman, and shortly got a job (under Willie Dawson) in the machine shop of the C.P.R. It was a large repair shop for railway engines, as the main C.P.R. Line was between Montreal (through Maine, and crossed back into Canada, 6 miles from McAdam, at Vanceboro,Maine. McAdam itself was a “railway town: with the typical, C.P.R.Red, row houses (one of which was reserved for Uncle Willie and Auntie Jeanie, and son John born 1912. Edgar was born in 1920 and Herbert born in 1923.

McAdam, was unique in that the Station was a large ,granite building (which 1n 1996 was declared a National Preservation Site,and a commenorative stamp was issued.) The Railway was graded to rise about a mile west of the town, and this allowed a good sized dam to be created near the station (and supplied by a large pipe, from nearby Lake Walklehagen). Edgar and I would love to ski on the bank near the tracks; run in the wet steam as the trains would start their journey to Montreal(strictly forbidden). “The Dam” was an ideal place for skating in the winter; swimming in the summer, and watching the occasional airplane land and takeoff (“barnstorming” was very popular just after WW .) Whereas,the Dawsons lived in a “company house”, we had a small home nearby.

The small house in McAdam was satisfactory. It Had three “Balm of Gilliard” trees in the front; some various flowers, such as dahlias, and a cement walk along the house leading to the garage (we never had a car)but it had many tins nailed on the rafters, with the names of “Little Cigars” etc. Also two “woodsheds” which were the responsibility of Edgar and myself, to fill with split wood for the winter. Inside, there was a front porch (later glassed in); the main hallway, a parlor containing a Victrola with a collection of sundry opera records, sacred songs, played on very thick Edison Records; two of Dad’s paintings of Scotland; furniture and a furnace. The Dining room had a lovely curved bookcase; a large walnut table and a glass case for dished. The kitchen had the typical wood-burning stove, kitchen table and a pump (which Edgar and I would pump by hand, forcing the water from the well to the storage tank in the attic). The “basement” was rather an excuse, as it was very low, and could only accommodate a load of coal; some of mother’s eggs stored in “Eisenglass”…..

As McAdam was in a valley which got very warm in summer, mother was anxious to get a “summer place” in Saint Andrews (a delightful seaside town on Passamaquoddy Bay). By 1931,we had joined our friends,the Storrs, in buying a 130 foot lot there, On our half of the lot,we added part of a renovated house, which had a tall brick chimney, and dad was able to add a “back kitchen”,plumbing and a add-on bedroom with sliding doors.This was a delightful, summer addition with shutters that could be lowered when the weather was not conducive.

By 1930 mother would take brother Edgar and myself on the morning train from McAdam to Saint Andrews for the day. We had a “pass” so it was quite an adventure to take the ride down past “Waweig,” and Rolling Dam and Saint Gearge to the seashore. Once there, we would go to “The Point; a lovely sandstone and sand beach, which had interesting things, such as a WW 1 field gun (Ed and I would love to climb all over it, pulling the various metal shields and aiming the gun….it was taken away, at the start of WW 2 and melted down to make another gun. We would dig in the sand for clams and periwinkles; build fires in the sandstone with dulce and seaweed; and then have a picnic lunch; using pins to dig out the periwinkles and clams (they were delicious). Later in the day, we would go the short distance to the station and return home.

When we built the renovated cottage,we could spend the whole summer vacation there, and what a pleasure it was to walk on a summer evening down the “market wharf”; with a 5 cent chocolate bar; watching the 4th of July Fireworks over at Robbinstown,Maine. It was there, that I got my only glimpse of President Roosevelt, as he came over from his summer place on Campobello Island, aboard the official yacht, “Patomac”. He was riding in the back seat of a convertible,and I only remember,a smiling, cigarette-holder man riding and waving to everyone.

It was McAdam, that was our main base in growing up. When I remember the people there, they had often come after WW 1, and many of our neighbors were “War brides” with English or Scottish accents; wanting to hold on to their past homes and customs. Our schoolmates ,often had grandiose names like “Giles”,or “Merriam” or “Eloise”….There was Lizzie Page; Nellie Delaney married to Ernest Delaney ( she was a Scot.quite stout, whom they always had do “the Highland Fling” at Church Socials…)

Our life in McAdam was largely built around the United Church. Most Sundays would find the MacWilliam family marching down the quarter mile to the “stone church” (the St.Paul’s United) at 11.05 a.m. in time to rush into our pew, before the Doxology was ended. There we would sit while the Reverend McKay would give one of his interminable prayers. Uncle Willie Dawson usually led the choir; and dad was Superintendent of the Sunday school. Mother’s good friend was Miss Flora Grant, a fellow Scot, who was the Manager of the C.P.R. Hotel; who ruled that establishment with an iron hand; catered to all the “summer people”, with their Private Cars (attached to the regular train) and going to Saint Andrews. There were two or three private railway cars that I remember,belonging to Lord Shaughnessy; Sir William Van Horne and Sir Thomas Tate.

Mother’s other interest was “The Sewing Circle” whereby many of our neighborhood ladies would meet at neighborhood homes and make quilts ,etc. which would be sold to raise money for charitable events. It was a very worthwhile thing, and helped with the long winter afternoons. As a child, we spent a lot of time, skiing on the embankment next to the train tracks; running in the steam as the engines blew off the wet steam and headed to Montreal,etc. Also, with the dam adjacent to the railway station, winter saw us skating as soon as the ice became thick enough to be safe .One would build a fire ,we would gather “cattails” and skate through the dark with the cattails glowing as we skated along. In summer, we would spend an afternoon “walking the pipeline” which took the water from the nearby Lake Walklehagen (“Laughing Waters” as the Mic-Macs called it) to replenish the dam.

Mother would say: “we Scots are not “Tight”, just “Thrifty”… This trait was proven very often when the Depression struck us and my dad was reduced to working only 10 days out of the month….mother would take the evening train (we had a “pass”) the 20 miles to Fredericton Junction, where she could get eggs at 20 cents a dozen; bring them home and put them in a big jar filled with eisenglass, and those we would eat (they didn’t taste “fresh”, but were certainly edible…) .

After Dad’s death in 1945, she stayed on for awhile in the house at McAdam, but decided to sell the house and move to Saint Andrews. Edgar was in the Army; I was at Mount Allison University, and it seemed right to move. She reverted to her original status as a “Caregiver” and for a few years, cared for Dr. Hugh O’Neill ( a widower) and two ladies who needed someone to care for them. Later, she went and lived with Edgar and Kay in Rochester,New York and then Alec brought her to us at Ardmore. It seemed a very good idea for her to move into a Nursing Home, where she roomed with (and was a great help to two older sisters)there. We would go on a Sunday afternoon, and take them for a drive. She loved to sing the old Scottish songs, like “Loch Lomond” and “Ye’ll Tak the High Road” etc. At 81 years, she slipped away in her sleep. She was a fine lady; a”caregiver” in the true sense of the word. She loved children, and harkened back to being a true “Nanny” in every meaning of the word.

Here was I, the doctor for H.M.C.S Sioux, one of the three Canadian destroyers in Korean waters, and now the doctor of H.M.C.S. Cayuga had been declared and imposter ! It never occurred to me on my own, but now I had to admit that I knew that it had to be true. All the little things that had happened in the past six months fell into place and I wondered how I hadn’t realized he was a fake.

I thought of the first time I met him in Halifax in March 1951. He was in a black business suit with a collar with rounded points, and I felt that this big, smiling, jovial man would well have passed as a country parson. Surg. Captain Lee introducing us, told me Dr. Joseph Cyr had come to join us at Stadacona.

The next memory I had was about a week later when I got a “pier-head jump” to go from Halifax to Esquimalt, B.C. in 10 days to be the medical officer on H.M.C.S. Sioux for a year in Korea .Seven months out of Internship. A new baby ,a lease to break—I was sick at heart as I went home to tell my wife, Betty rose to the occasion like a true Navy wife, and the wheels were in motion. That afternoon, when I told” Joe Cyr” of my sudden posting, he said: “Gosh, Herb, I am single and I really want to go to sea, how about me replacing you, and you come over on the next destroyer?” Gratefully, I told him, I told him that if I had seen him that morning he would be in Sioux (and I in Cayuga) but we had already started our plans for transfer. I had second thoughts with all the confusion that resulted. I knew that I had 10 days to get to Esquimalt, so we drove to Ontario, where I left my wife, car and baby, an took a train for the West Coast. With time running out we came down through the magnificent Rockies, only to hit a trestle which delayed the train for two hours and a s a result, I missed my connection with the only ferry at that time to Vancouver Island. Not to be outdone. I flew over to Victoria, took a taxi to the Dockyard, came over the side of H.M.C.S. Sioux and saluted my captain on the appointed day. He looked up, and said, smiling “Hello Doc, we didn’t expect you for four or five days yet” So, checking later I found the West Coast had known for six weeks that I was to be their doctor— perhaps I should have accepted Joe Cyr’s offer.

Five months passed aboard Sioux. then one morning off the Korean coast we sighted Cayuga. Because of submarine danger, they couldn’t come alongside, but instead dropped a cutter and sent over a party, including their doctor.

I greeted him warmly but remarked that he must have dropped 40 pounds from his previous 260 ! His answer was that his cabin was back aft, just over the propellers and he couldn’t sleep well, and was living largely on chocolate bars and coke .Be that as it may, his main reason for coming aboard was to inquire if I could spare any of my narcotic supply. He mentioned that he was doing a lot of surgery; and ,knowing that I was not, I gave him half my narcotic stores ,getting his signature as “Surg.Lt. Joseph Cyr” in return .imagine my amazement later, to find that he had likewise signed for narcotic supplies from the Dutch destroyer, Van Galen; the British frigate “Charity”. And the British cruiser “Kenya”. I wondered if they found their way onto the black market….

People have asked if I didn’t “know” he wasn’t a doctor. I can only answer “no”—you don’t challenge people, especially if they are as pleasant and personable as Joe. The only time I remember talking “medicine” with him was once when we met in our base in Sasebo, Japan and we talked of penicillin. He was perfectly at home in the discussion with a full knowledge of dosage, reactions and so on.

It was later evident that he did not have a good knowledge of medicines. When I joined Surg.Lt. Don Willoughby in November to take over the Cayuga’s medical stores, we made an announcement over the P.A. system, asking anyone who had medicines from the previous “doctor” to please bring them to Sick Bay. Imagine our amazement when a sailor brought in a bottle of Chloromycetin with 88 capsules still present; PLUS a bottle of Aureomycin package with 92 capsules remaining! Both these drugs had been issued to us for the first time in the summer of 1951,and when we inquired of the sailor, his ailment—he replied he had gonorrhea! Today, we would call this overkill!!

Most often when Joe Cyr (as I still like to call him)and I would meet, if our ships were in Japan together, we would talk of home ,of Halifax ,of my wife (whom he had met) and the girl he planned to marry in June 1952. This brings me to the closest I ever came to unmasking “the great imposter”

I was talking in the wardroom one day to the Roman Catholic priest, Father Dick Ward, who serviced the three Canadian destroyers. He said, “Did you know the doctor of the Cayuga is going to leave Medicine, and become a priest? I was dumbfounded, and jokingly said, “Father, he is going to marry a physio in Halifax, and you don’t take married men in your outfit, do you ? He answered: “Well, I have taken him into my faith, and I am going home in two months and I will check on that…” This was September and he was unmasked in November.

But then, I wasn’t the only one who had vague doubts about Cayuga’s doctor. Surg. Lt. Chris West, my medical colleague, who looked after our third destroyer ,H.M.C.S. Athabaskan, had reason to doubt too. He had a delightful French Canadian medical assistant, who had come out to Korea in the Cayuga with “Dr.Cyr “prior to transfer to Athabaskan. One day Bouchier put the question to the doctor: “Dr.West, why do you use the microscope to diagnose Gonorrhea? “Dr. West asked his assistant: “Have you got a better way to diagnose it ?” to which Bouchier replied: The doctor of the Cayuga just holds the slide up to the light and says :”this man has the dose”. Or, this man does not have “the dose”. Chris immediately sent off a letter to Ottawa, but no reply was ever received.

And so we come to the now famous story that led to his unmasking. Our task in Korea was largely to pick up and ferry Korean military personnel and civilians below the 39th parallel, the “bomb line” of the Korean war. These were often refugees who had some shrapnel wounds suffered from exposure and so on, who had fled to the beaches from mined areas. We would pick them up from the beaches, or boats, clean up their wounds and deliver them to refugee camps on Chodo or Sokdo Islands. Anyone familiar with the cramped quarters of a destroyer knows it is virtually impossible to get sterile conditions. In theory, for surgery, one could set up a table and operating light in the captain’s cabin; and so the scene was set one night when Surg.Lt Cyr, complete with cap, mask and gloves, entered the captain’s cabin to examine a Korean with an abrasion over his second rib. He swabbed vigorously with sponges and forceps. held something aloft.; and then dropped it in the wastebasket. His medical assistant, Bob Hoskins said: “Sir, what was that ?”to which Cyr replied: “I have just removed a bullet from above the heart !” One can imagine the hush as he stripped off his gloves and slowly going alone the campionway (lined by the ship’s company) was heard to mutter “That man has one chance in a hundred of lasting through the night!” The next morning, the Korean,(who spoke no English) was wandering about the deck, smoking a cigarette, awaiting a boat to take him to Chodo Island. No wonder, the public relations officer, Al Jenkins, wrote the story for the Saint John Telegraph Journal— the surgical triumphs of the doctor from Edmunston, N.B.. Unfortunately, the real Doctor Joe Cyr, was practicing in New Brunswick, as well.

Sometimes people ask “What happened to the impostor when he was unmasked? Well, in war a ship can receive, but cannot send radio signals, so the captain of the Cayuga was nonplussed, to say the least, when he received a message from Ottawa suggesting that Surg.Lt. Joseph Cyr was an impostor. He quietly called for the doctor and confronted him with the message; Cyr protested vigorously, and asked the captain to wait. He then went below and returned with his third year medical marks, his fourth year medical marks, his M.D . and L.M.C.C. No wonder the captain offered to get an apology for him from Ottawa when they got back to Japan in 10 days. He must have thought twice however, when the first lieutenant and the medical assistant, reported in the morning that they could not waken the doctor. The captain had to seek medical help from the medical office of H.M.S Kenya, a British cruiser within semaphore range. This doctor, with stimulants, got the medical imposter into fair condition ,transported him to his ship ,and thence to Japan. The Cayuga never saw “Surg.Lt. Joseph Cyr” again.

My belief is that the Navy recalled Cyr, and sent a medical officer to accompany him back to Canada. A Court of Inquiry later agreed that no real harm had resulted ;no deaths had occurred and they came to a “gentlemen’s agreement” with Cyr that no charges would be made by Canada, if the doctor said no more when he was deported to his homeland, the United States ..Hardly had he crossed the border, however, when he sold his story to whoever had the price, and the incident received wide publicity. No wonder, we who had no identification, other than a membership card in the Canadian Medical Association ,were given a lot of kidding when our allies saw the Red Stripe of the medical branch on our badges of rank ! But, interestingly enough, when we took over the medical stores of Cayuga, the ship’s attitude was extraordinary. On board, “Doc” whether phony or not was a most popular person. Everywhere were the stories of his kindness and generosity—how he pressed 50,000 yen into the hand of a padre going ashore, saying, “he would know best who would be in need, in the local populace’. And how he sent a man, transferred back to Canada from his ship, on his way by taking an expensive Japanese camera from around his own neck, and giving it to the sailor with best wishes from the Cayuga. A complex man, he was, who would have made a fine medical doctor.

“How did this happen?” was the first question I asked my superiors when I got back to Canada. The Surgeon Commodore gave a most interesting story. He was at his desk in Ottawa when the “doctor” in question came in requesting acceptance into the Royal Canadian Navy. He said he was a practicing doctor in Edmundstun, New Brunswick, was doing well financially, but bored with looking after little old ladies, and wanted to join the Navy and go to sea.

Commodore McCallum asked for his credentials, and as he was looking them over Cyr said: “You will see my third year medical marks were not too good, as I am not good at French. but my fourth year marks are better because they had bilingual professors…”

Commodore McCallum was impressed, but he said what really impressed him was the following incident. As Commodore McCallum’s wife was a dentist, he mentioned this to “Cyr” and asked if he knew a certain dentist in Edmundston, and the fake doctor answered “I know him well, but haven’t seen him for months”. McCallum tells the story that he said: “Well, this doctor is in Ottawa, would you like to join us for dinner tonight?” and, believe it or not, the fake doctor accepted and that evening showed up for dinner. And the Dentist phoned his regrets that he was not able to come!

And so it was in November 1951 when H.M.C.S. Sioux had left Japan for another three weeks off the Korean coast that we sighted the Cayuga, we knew that their doctor had been unmasked, but didn’t know whether he was aboard “in Irons” or off the ship. They sighted us as well, and sent over a message requesting medical advice as their Padre was ill. I asked the captain’s permission, after giving the appropriate medical advice, because it was a PADRE, to pull their leg by saying: “Clear lower decks, and Pray !” Quick as a flash they sent back—

“WHAT ARE YOUR DOCTOR’S CREDENTIALS ???”

Many of the grand children had never seen, or at least remembered, their cousins. They were generally between 8 and 15 years old. A great time to be able to get to know their cousins. We had 17 direct family plus a friend of Matt’s and Sirje’s mother with us. While it was a great opportunity to catch up with one another, it did take a bit of planning to find a restaurant that was ready for a reservation for 19 people.Although this was ahead of the time of digital cameras, it was one of the first opportunities to get both a hard copy of one’s photos plus a CD with the Kodak images on it. Here are a few photos of the family from December 1996, looking a bit younger than they do today.

Some shots of the individuals follow:

CAPTAIN AND MRS. J. P. MATTERN. JACK – MATTERN – in Cambridge (Sept. 1954) A marriage of interest took place in Appleton Chapel, Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass., when Miss Nancy Margaret Jack, of Boston, became the bride of Captain James Philip Mattern, U.S. Army, of Kalamazoo, Mich. The bride is the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Charles Henry Jack, of Vankleek Hill, Ont., and Captain Mattern is the son of Mr. and Mrs. Philip Peter Mattern, Kalamazoo. Rev. Robert Vaughn, Chaplain of the U.S, Navy officiated and white gladioli, flecked with coral, were used on the altar. Given in marriage by her father, the bride was attended by her sister, Mrs. Herbert MacWilliam, of Montreal, as matron of honor; by the bride-groom’s sister, Mrs. Charles Muncatchy, of Dearborn, Mich., as brides­maid and by the bridegroom’s niece, Miss Linda Muncatchy, flower girl. Master David MacWilliam, nephew of the bride, of Montreal, was ring, bearer. Captain Graham G. Kent U S Army, Fort Monmouth, NJ, was best man. The bride’s gown of ivory satin, was designed with a fitted basque with long sleeves and a pleated skirt ending in a wide train. Her imported silk illusion veil fell from a Juliet cap, embroidered with seed pearls and bound with the same satin as the dress. She carried a bridal cascade of white Illini chrysanthemums. A reception was held at the Smith House, Cambridge, Mass., after which the bride and bridegroom left for Cape Cod. They will reside in Cambridge.

The main source of income for the people of Saint Andrews was the Algonquin Hotel;

owned by the C.P. R. and built about 1900. Associated with it was the Algonquin Golf Course; and there, for a few years, Edgar and I caddied in the summer to earn some money.. The pay was 50 cents for 18 holes ; and , after a Strike by the caddies, it was raised to 75 cents (I caddied for Lord Bessborough, the Governor General; who was a “snob” as was his equerry, Sir Michael Clum Seymour, and I received a 10 cent tip) Edgar and I found one of the nicest players was a Mr.Robert Lynch Stailing, president of Sun Insurance Company of Canada (the oldest Insurance Company in the world)- – - He liked to play by himself(his wife was an invalid, whom he would take for drives in his McLaughlin Buick) and he loved to pick and eat Puffball mushrooms (avoiding the “deadly amanita” and the “Fairy-ring” mushrooms) It was Mr.Stailing that took Edgar and myself to the Canadian Open at Saint John,N.B. to see the likes of “Jug” McSpaden and Horton Smith win (I wish that I had kept the Entrance Ticket, as it was the only time the Canadian Open was played in the Maritimes (1937) We also enjoyed Sunday Night Band Concerts in the bandstand below the Courthouse. Sid Anning was the band leader and he insisted every Sunday Night in the summer in singing “When My Dreamboat Comes Home”. When we would rather hear “The Beer Barrel Polka” or something ! The town itself was interesting: the Theatre was called “The Marina” after Princess Marina of Greece who was killed in a car accident. Nelson Eddy and Jeanette MacDonald were in their prime with “Naughty Marietta”; ”New Moon” and “Girl of the Golden West”. We also had favorites like “Roberta” with songs like “Smoke Gets In Your Eyes”. Across the street was Bill O’Neill’s lunch counter and ice cream parlor. Up the street was Cockburn’s Drug Store, established 1876. Across the street was Fraser Keay’s Hardware, and next door Ed Finegan and “the China Chest”. Nearby was “Charlotte County Cottage Craft” with one of Betty’s MacDonald teachers(Miss Charlotte Wren); and it was taken over by the Ross brothers (one had married Liz Mallory, who had gone to Mount A. too) The only other drugstore in town, was the Rexall Drugatore. At the end of the street was “The Blockhouse, built for the War of 1812 complete with the blockhouse, two muzzle loading cannon facing the U.S.A of Maine. Fortunately, they were never fired in anger. The comparable cannon and fortifications at Fort Tipperary were strictly for “show only”.