Armies of Peace: Canada and the UNRRA Years 9781442687370

Table of contents :
Contents
Preface
Introduction
Part One. The Diplomacy of Relief, Rehabilitation, and Repatriation
1. Creating UNRRA
2. Canada at the Council Sessions
3. The Politics of Procurement
Part Two. A World Uprooted: Canadians, UNRRA, and the Challenge of the Displaced
4. Personalities and Bureaucracies
5. UNRRA Takes Command: The First Field Operations
6. Soldiers of Peace or Agents of Repatriation: The Displaced-Persons Operations in Germany
7. Torch of Sadness: The Mothers and Children of War
Part Three. Carrying Florence’s Lamp: Canadian Nurses and UNRRA
8. Launching UNRRA’s Nursing Brigade: From the Middle East to Greece
9. Nursing with the Enemy: Germany
10. The Bridge of Sorrows: The Canadian China Contingent
Part Four. Life after UNRRA
11. Ties That Bind
12. Legacies
Conclusion
Appendices
Bibliography
Index

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A R M I E S O F P EA C E : CANADA AND THE UNRRA YEARS

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SUSAN ARMSTRONG-REID AND DAVID MURRAY

Armies of Peace Canada and the UNRRA Years

U N I V E R S I T Y O F T O R O N TO P R E S S Toronto Buffalo London

© University of Toronto Press Incorporated 2008 Toronto Buffalo London www.utppublishing.com Printed in Canada ISBN 978-0-8020-9321-9

Printed on acid-free paper

Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication Armstrong-Reid, Susan, 1950– Armies of peace : Canada and the UNRRA years / Susan Armstrong-Reid and David Murray. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-0-8020-9321-9 1. United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration – History. 2. United Nations – Canada – History. 3. International relief – Canada – History – 20th century. 4. Canada – Foreign relations. I. Murray, David Robert II. Title D809.C2A75 2008

341.23’71

C2007-906670-4

University of Toronto Press acknowledges the financial assistance to its publishing program of the Canada Council for the Arts and the Ontario Arts Council. University of Toronto Press acknowledges the financial support for its publishing activities of the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program (BPIDP). This book has been published with the help of a grant from the Canadian Federation for the Humanities and Social Sciences, through the Aid to Scholarly Publications Programme, using funds provided by the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada.

Contents

Preface Maps

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Introduction

3

Part One. The Diplomacy of Relief, Rehabilitation, and Repatriation 1 Creating UNRRA

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2 Canada at the Council Sessions

41

3 The Politics of Procurement 76 Part Two. A World Uprooted: Canadians, UNRRA, and the Challenge of the Displaced 4 Personalities and Bureaucracies 101 5 UNRRA Takes Command: The First Field Operations

125

6 Soldiers of Peace or Agents of Repatriation: The Displaced-Persons Operations in Germany 161 7 Torch of Sadness: The Mothers and Children of War

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Part Three. Carrying Florence’s Lamp: Canadian Nurses and UNRRA 8 Launching UNRRA’s Nursing Brigade: From the Middle East to Greece 225

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Contents

9 Nursing with the Enemy: Germany 249 10 The Bridge of Sorrows: The Canadian China Contingent 287 Part Four. Life after UNRRA 11 Ties That Bind

323

12 Legacies 343 Conclusion Appendices Notes

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397

Bibliography Index

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443

457

Illustrations follow page 210

Preface

This book, a joint effort by two authors, began life as a doctoral thesis prepared by one of us, Susan Armstrong-Reid, for the Department of History at the University of Toronto. That thesis focused on Canada’s conduct of its economic and diplomatic relationships within the first post-war international organization, the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration (UNRRA), which set the pattern for future, more permanent post-war security organizations and acted as a bridgehead to the restoration of normal trade channels. Early in the thesis’s preparation, the possibility of broadening its focus – from Canadians’ involvement within UNRRA’s governing body and procurement operations to the collective role of individual Canadians within UNRRA’s field operations in shaping the organization’s history – beckoned. However, Professor Robert Bothwell, the person responsible as thesis supervisor for overseeing such a sprawling study, offered sage advice: he recommended limiting the analysis to Canada’s formal relations with UNRRA because the time required to research individual Canadians and establish the specific political, social, and military context of each of UNRRA’s country missions where they served would be unmanageable. It could take years. The dissertation remained a study of policy and international theory. But the idea of expanding the focus lingered and, after the thesis’s completion, led to a gradual compiling of information about the Canadian UNRRAIDS, as UNRRA’s staff members were commonly known. Then, six years ago, the other member of our team, David Murray of the University of Guelph, suggested the idea of publishing a book based primarily upon the thesis. The result, Armies of Peace: Canada and the UNRRA Years, is also the product of extensive additional research within Canada and abroad focused on recovering the stories of Canadi-

viii Preface

ans who served overseas with UNRRA. Not surprisingly, its scope and thematic threads evolved as the individual vignettes were placed within the overarching political and socio-economic historical context. Canada’s contribution to UNRRA went beyond formal intergovernmental relations. Hundreds of Canadians from all walks of life – secretaries, transport officers, nurses, doctors, social workers, agricultural and industrial consultants – signed up believing that their humanitarian work would make an important contribution to winning the peace. Canadians served at every level of the organization and in every country where UNRRA established missions. Their experience kept creeping into our narrative in unanticipated ways. Collectively, their incredible stories offered another dimension to the shifting power relationships and exercise of leadership that shaped the destiny of the first post-war organization. Policy at the highest levels was affected by what was happening and, more significantly, as it turned out, not happening at the operational level – the speedy repatriation of the displaced persons to their country of origin and the distribution of UNRRA goods on what was perceived as a non-political basis. Over time, we realized that this unexpected intrusion of Canadian actors into the unfolding of the UNRRA story was no accident. Despite the careful planning for its inauguration, UNRRA, as the first modern international welfare organization on such a massive scale, had few precedents or guidelines to draw upon for assistance. Moreover, it had the unenviable task of meeting relief and rehabilitation civilian needs that remained undefined in the chaotic conditions left in the wake of the armies, before the fighting ended in either the European or the Pacific theatre. Administrative structure and policy directives emerged gradually as the organization gained experience in the field and as the military situation permitted. Yet UNRRA, under the terms of the agreement setting it up, was subject to several constraints. It could operate only under the military control of the Allied government whose forces occupied that particular area; and consent for specific country programs was required from the liberated nations, whose political regimes and war-ravaged economic infrastructure proved unstable. As a consequence of these factors, power relationships, leadership, and decision making were transitory, complex, and personal. UNRRA’s soldiers of peace discovered that a no man’s land could exist in a peacetime organization, and, to survive, they would have to rely on their own instincts, courage, and training. In the field, UNRRA’s destiny would to some degree be defined outside official policy directives. Another factor influenced the choice of subject matter. Everything that UNRRA did then remains relevant for Canadians today. Television

Preface ix

has brought Canada’s disaster-relief and aid efforts into the nation’s living rooms, and Canadians have taken considerable pride in their country’s long tradition of humanitarian aid. Yet Canadian foreign-aid policy today lingers under the shadow of ambivalence, as Canadian governments weigh the costs of meeting international commitments against the increasingly vocal demand for greater health and educational services within Canada. The UNRRA period provides valuable insights into the antecedents of contemporary debates surrounding Canadian involvement in international aid and relief efforts under the agency of the United Nations. Moreover, understanding the interplay of people and events that contributed to UNRRA’s triumphs and tribulations sheds light on the questions frequently asked about both the viability and the consequences of Canadian involvement in development and aid work, past and present. The issues of nationality, cultural diversity, gender, and professional identity that had to be worked out within the first international welfare organization remain relevant lines of inquiry for understanding the constraints of politics that infringe on international aid and development today. To tell the story of Canadians’ contribution required considerable detective work to uncover privately held letters, diaries, memories, and mementos from the UNRRA years. These previously unavailable sources complemented official reports and memos prepared on the job and located in the extensive manuscript records at the United Nations Archives in New York. Wending our way through all this material would not have been possible without the assistance of many people. Some of the private papers were obtained by what many colleagues at the time considered a somewhat questionable avenue – advertising in the Globe and Mail. The public response was overwhelming, however, and inevitably led to other names and sources. The enthusiasm and courtesy extended by the Canadian UNRRAIDS and their families, who generously shared their memories, letters, and photos, made this project particularly rewarding. Other leads about Canadians were followed in the private collections of UNRRAIDS, deposited throughout the United States, New Zealand, and Australia. We owe a great debt of gratitude to all the archivists who assisted us with online search inquiries and extensive photocopying. Donald Cochrane of the Presbyterian Church Archives, Knox College, New Zealand, and Penelope Whiteway of the Fryer Library, University of Queensland, provided invaluable and timely service in assisting us to meet deadlines. We would also like to express our appreciation to Francis Tapp at the Auraria Library Archives and Special Collections, Denver, Colorado; Catherine Reynolds at the Hoover Institute (Stanford

x Preface

University); Harold Miller at the State Historical Society of Wisconsin; Jennifer Richardson at the Howard Gotlieb Archival Research Center (Boston University); and Karl Kabelae at the Rush Rhees Library, University of Rochester Library. Research trips to the UN archives never seemed long enough to deal with its overwhelming collection of UNRRA documents, but the hard-working and knowledgeable staff, especially Marleen Buelinckx, deserve a great deal of credit for what was accomplished during these visits. We are indebted to other archivists across Canada but special thanks are due to Leslie Field at the University of British Columbia; Anne Crossin at Winnipeg General Hospital Health Services Centre, Nurses Alumnae Archives; Heather Home at Queens University; Alix McEwen and Glenn Wright at Library and Archives of Canada; Jane Zavitz-Bond at the Quakers’ Yearly Meeting Archives in Pickering, Ontario; and Janice Rosen at the Canadian Jewish Congress National Archives and Reference Centre in Montreal. We wish to thank, as well, the archivists at the World Health Organization in Geneva, Thomas Allen and Marie Villemin, who brought to our attention the existence of UNRRA files during a research trip for another project. We are also grateful to Dr Sonya Grypma for sharing documents discovered in the United Church of Canada Archives in Victoria University, Toronto, and to Dr Glennis Zilm, whose knowledge and passion for the history of nursing in British Columbia is unparalleled. Our manuscript benefited from the careful reading and comments of colleagues with different perspectives. Glennis Zilm and Wendy Mitchinson provided a multitude of suggestions regarding our discussion of the provision of nursing and other medical services. James Snell offered constructive advice for the manuscript’s overall improvement at various stages of the drafting. Andrew Reid, a young scholar of international relations, read the entire draft from the perspective of the popular audience. The errors or omissions are our own. In preparing the manuscript for publication, we were very fortunate to be able to work with two extremely capable and supportive editors associated with the University of Toronto Press. Len Husband guided the authors through the publication process. We are, however, especially indebted to Curtis Fahey, whose historical training and extensive editorial experience helped us immeasurably in improving the manuscript. And, finally, this book would not have been possible without the support of our spouses, Richard and Ann, who tolerated our creative partnership even when it imposed on family life.

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A R M I E S O F P EA C E : CANADA AND THE UNRRA YEARS

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Introduction

On an April afternoon in 1945, a senior member of the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration (UNRRA), Alex Edmison, was overwhelmed with excitement as four UNRRA trucks passed him on a road in Germany. Why all the fuss? Edmison had been appointed as UNRRA’s chief liaison officer at Supreme Headquarters Allied Expeditionary Force (SHAEF) to oversee the launch of UNRRA’s field operations in Germany. At the sighting of those four lone UNRRA trucks, dramatic images flashed through his mind, recalling all the obstacles already overcome to bring the UNRRA teams here ‘within a few hours of taking up the most strenuous social welfare campaign of all time.’ He could picture all so vividly what has gone before ... the Conferences at Atlantic City and Montreal – the endless desk work in Washington and London – innumerable interviews on supply problems, priority, personnel matters … those zealous lectures at the Reading Training School – the exasperating period in the United Kingdom – the final call up – the feverish search for equipment and kit – the delays of clearing and passports – the train and boat journeys – the arrangement of teams – the great and perplexing problem of first obtaining vehicles then of conditioning them – the excitement of the final departure day … the ruts and bumps on the war ravaged road system.

Edmison had ‘no apology to make for reflecting on those four trucks and their significance.’1 UNRRA was the first post-war organization established to deal with international welfare on such a far-reaching scale, and the road towards a signed agreement and the mobilization of the first field operations had been strewn with casualties.

4 Armies of Peace

Planning for post-war relief and reconstruction had begun long before the war ended. As early as 1942, twenty-six nations joined in a ‘Declaration of the United Nations’ pledging them to continue a joint war effort and not to make peace separately. Subsequently, as the United Nations developed, one of the most pressing tasks was to organize a massive relief campaign to assist the invaded countries. In 1943 Francis B. Sayre, who later became the special assistant to UNRRA’s director general, warned of the unparalleled death, destruction, and suffering that the Allies would confront: ‘Battle, murder and criminal violence have blackened most of Europe and much of Asia. Men and women have been carried off into slavery. Homes have been destroyed. Cities have been pillaged; whole nations have been looted and plundered of their resources; the economies of entire peoples have been disrupted and exploited; whole races of people have been driven into exile and despair. The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse are riding through Europe and Asia today.’2 Against such a horrifying backdrop, UNRRA represented a promise to the victims of war that, once the Axis yoke was broken, medicines and clothing and other emergency supplies would be quickly sent to rebuild shattered lives and war-torn economies. On 9 November 1943, a year and a half before the surrender of Germany, representatives of forty-four nations travelled to Washington to sign the UNRRA Agreement. The new organization’s main job was to finance relief and rehabilitation supplies and services in those liberated countries that lacked sufficient financial means and that requested help. The ‘receiving’ countries, as they became known, would draw without charge upon an international pool of relief supplies and services contributed through UNRRA by countries that escaped invasion. Eventually, UNRRA would administer $4 billion in aid. By early 1946, it was delivering essential relief supplies to over twenty countries on a scale that surpassed even the movement of munitions by Allied forces during the war. China, Czechoslovakia, Greece, Italy, Poland, the Ukraine, and Yugoslavia were the chief beneficiaries of UNRRA aid. Operations in Germany were terminated by the end of 1946, while the China program closed down operations in November 1947. Another purpose of the agency was the repatriation and support of refugees who would come under Allied control at the war’s end. All countries that asked for assistance were to be given help to care for and repatriate displaced persons and to prevent the outbreak of epidemics. UNRRA assisted the military in relocating seven million refugees and displaced persons within the occupied territories in Europe, Southeast

Introduction 5

Asia, and the Pacific and provided camps for over one million who refused to return to their country of origin. The director general of UNRRA was obliged to negotiate separate arrangements with the occupying military authorities in each area where it operated, and the organization focused on the repatriation of those who wished and were able to return to their countries of origin. A separate international institution, the Intergovernmental Committee on Refugees (1939–46), was responsible for finding emigration opportunities abroad for other refugees. In December 1946 both organizations were succeeded by a nonpermanent specialized agency of the United Nations, the International Refugee Organization (IRO), which was responsible for all activities concerning refugees. The agreement of 9 November 1943 broadly set out the organizational framework and terms of authority under which UNRRA would operate. Under it, a Council composed of representatives of each member nation was to be the policy-making body. In practice, however, a Central Committee, whose membership was restricted to the Big Four (Britain, the United States, Russia, and China), wielded the real power, despite its theoretically restricted authority to operate as the decisionmaking body only in emergency situations between Council sessions. Although the director general was technically appointed by the Council, his nomination required the unanimous approval of the Central Committee, and it was well understood that an American would be appointed to the position. The agreement granted the director general strong administrative control to oversee the relief and rehabilitation operations. His approval was required, for example, before other international voluntary agencies could work in any area receiving UNRRA’s assistance. The former governor of New York State, Herbert Lehman, demonstrated great statesmanship as the first director general from 1943 to 1946. Born in New York City in 1878, the son of German Jewish immigrants, Lehman became one of the three founders of the Lehman Brothers investment banking firm. The flamboyant ex-mayor of New York, Fiorello LaGuardia, was named his successor and served from 29 March 1946 to 1 January 1947. LaGuardia, popularly known as ‘the Little Flower,’ was born in the Bronx to an Italian lapsed-Catholic father and a Hungarian mother of Jewish origin from Trieste, but he was raised an Episcopalian. A strong supporter of the New Deal, LaGuardia led New York’s recovery during the Great Depression and became a national figure, serving as President Franklin Roosevelt’s director of

6 Armies of Peace

civilian defence during the run-up to the United States joining the Second World War. The third director general, Major-General Lowell Rooks, presided over the winding down of the organization and the transfer of administrative responsibilities to its successor organizations that would carry on UNRRA’s unfinished work from 1 January 1947 until 30 September 1948. UNRRA was a child of compromise and concession right from its inception. Most notably, its scope and authority were strictly limited. Britain, with the backing of the United States, had made it clear that UNRRA was to provide only short-term relief, deliberately steering clear of any long-term commitment to reconstruct the devastated economies of the liberated European nations. Moreover, both countries agreed that the successful conclusion of military operations required that the provision of civilian relief would be a military responsibility during the initial phase of European liberation. UNRRA was effectively sidelined; it would be dependent on the goodwill and cooperation of the Allied military hierarchy in all of its field operations. The terms of the agreement further circumscribed UNRRA’s operating authority by requiring it to negotiate the scope of its activities with the member government in each of the countries where it operated. Finally, the agreement’s failure to define with clarity the financial arrangements or scope of the work to be done until operations were under way sowed the seeds of future discord at Council sessions. UNRRA’s mandate proved more difficult to implement than anticipated. It was to supervise the procurement and distribution of an uncertain quantity of relief goods to meet requirements that could not be fully ascertained in advance, and it operated within an international environment which it did not control and where it lacked ultimate authority over either the procurement or the distribution of supplies. In this respect, UNRRA was handicapped in its ability to ensure that relief was distributed effectively and equitably without discrimination by race, religion, or politics as required in its mandate. Its dependence, both on previously existing Allied bodies that controlled the allocation of supplies and on the recipient countries that developed relief-distribution priorities, left UNRRA in the unenviable position of being a referee without authority to impose penalties. UNRRA’s procurement efforts were shrouded in controversy throughout its entire existence. To mount the massive relief and rehabilitation programs envisaged demanded the sustained efforts of UNRRA’s member governments. In the case of Canada, there was widespread recognition that the coun-

Introduction 7

try’s own political and economic future was closely tied to how quickly the war-torn areas could be helped to recovery. Consequently, the Canadian government devoted considerable time and talent to the conduct of its political and economic affairs with UNRRA. In doing so, the government made clear that UNRRA was especially important to its efforts to leverage the influence gained during the war into a new and more multilateral approach to foreign policy in the post-1945 period. As the first post-war international organization, UNRRA was widely regarded as an instructive model for future and more permanent international organizations. In particular, it was seen as the cornerstone of a multilateral trading system. Through its involvement with UNRRA, Canada, for the first time, contributed substantial amounts of monetary and material aid via an international agency to other parts of the world. As the third-largest contributor nation to the UNRRA relief program (see appendix A), Canada was anxious to use its position as a major supplier nation in UNRRA both as a bridge from wartime production back to a peacetime economy and as a vehicle through which to ensure a competitive edge for Canadian goods in post-war overseas markets. By 1945, Canada had temporarily emerged as the fourth-largest military power, and as such it was anxious to curb the four Great Powers’ wartime habit of making decisions and expecting the smaller nations to fall in line. UNRRA became a test of Canada’s determination and ability to play a larger role on the post-war world stage as the power relations among the former Allies shifted. Accordingly, the Canadian government enunciated a new guiding principle for the conduct of its diplomacy. In its view, UNRRA was born of the errors of the League of Nations, whose failed collectivesecurity efforts were generally believed to have led to the outbreak of world war again. Based upon the interwar experience, Canada was anxious to ensure that the Great Powers were included in any future security system, but, equally, it did not want them to be given unfettered control. In this context, Ottawa fashioned an approach to protect the rights of individual nation-states while acknowledging differing capacities of influence among nations. This approach was termed the ‘functional principle.’ Designed to shape the development of post-war international organizations to Canada’s advantage, it held that power should be a function of a nation’s ability to contribute in a given area. Since Canada was expected to be a major supplier nation to UNRRA, the organization was viewed as an important test case for Canada’s bid to be recognized as a middle power.

8 Armies of Peace

The debut of the functional principle initially failed to gain Canada a seat on the policy-making body of UNRRA. At Council sessions, Canada continued to exert its voice for recognition, while, in the interim, Canadian diplomats and officials strove to find other informal avenues to influence UNRRA’s future course and to advance the country’s national interests. Their efforts met with mixed success. UNRRA’s operations were predicated on the assumption that relief could be insulated from the domestic politics of its member governments and from the onset of growing international suspicion and misunderstanding. This assumption proved unfounded. In the end, Canada’s relations with UNRRA would be shaped less by the functional principle than by character and circumstances. UNRRA’s history pivots around its attempts to confront problems occasioned by unforeseen circumstances in three key interrelated areas. The first centred on a critical shortage of supplies and their distribution within countries receiving UNRRA’s assistance. As the third-largest supplier nation, Canada’s procurement successes and fiascos mirrored UNRRA’s chequered career as a provider of relief goods. The second issue concerned the unanticipated number of displaced persons who, for a variety of reasons, experienced a sense of alienation from their country of origin and who consequently refused to be repatriated. Under the terms of the Yalta Agreement of February 1945, citizens of the Soviet Union and Yugoslavia were to be handed over to their respective countries, whether they consented or not. This proved easier in theory than in practice. Debates over the care and repatriation of Europe’s displaced persons precipitated continuous acrimony among the member states at UNRRA’s Council sessions, with the administration increasingly coming under attack for its alleged abuse of supplies and its treatment of the displaced persons in the camps. Finally, the belief that relief should be determined on the basis of need soon gave way to the demand that relief should be correlated to past or future political behaviour, or even to the willingness on the part of the displaced persons to return home. Lester Pearson, as the chair of the Committee on Supplies and, subsequently, as the chair of the special committee formed to sort out the prickly question of the treatment of displaced persons, was fully engaged in the growing rift between supplier nations and the receiving countries associated with Russia. This study examines the degree to which Canadian policy initiatives within UNRRA’s governing body aggravated or ameliorated UNRRA’s difficulties in these crucial policy areas.

Introduction 9

Membership in UNRRA tested Canada’s post-war diplomatic influence and economic capacity and, ultimately, its will to deal with the continuing problems of shelter and settlement among the world’s dispossessed on a longer-term basis. The same was true at the personal level. Hundreds of Canadian men and women, from every walk of life, volunteered to serve overseas with UNRRA. These Canadian UNRRAIDS, as the organization’s field staff became known, demonstrated a level of commitment to the work of relief equal to that of the soldiers, sailors, and airmen of Canada’s armed forces who had served in the military conflict with the Axis powers. Alex Edmison’s excitement as he watched the first UNRRA truck depart for the field captured the idealism, exuberance, and sense of urgency that engulfed many Canadians involved in the founding of the first post-war international organization. In this sense, Canada’s involvement in UNRRA is an immensely human story embracing humanitarianism, idealism, hope, and selfconfidence, all tempered by personal ambition, pragmatism, and a profound fear of failure. The opportunity to travel and to experience new career opportunities added to the humanitarian enticement to venture abroad with UNRRA. This was particularly true for women who feared that wartime employment opportunities would again vanish at the end of the war. Moreover, many Canadian women found the prospect of working for UNRRA, which was to be an equal-opportunity employer, especially attractive. Yet, in practice, despite UNRRA’s avowed gender equality, some of the organization’s officials doubted that women belonged in all aspects of field work. Alex Edmison’s witty account, incorporated into his weekly report in May 1945, is instructive of the gender tensions that prevailed: ‘The Female of the Species: Director Patterson of Granville threw a bombshell into SHAEF this week when asked if he could send out a woman in charge of an UNRRA team. Why this simple question should confound us is peculiar … Nevertheless we breached the subject … over the cross channel telephone and the gallant man replied: “UNRRA knows no sex discrimination. Tell Patterson he can nominate the ladies, if he thinks they deserve it.”’3 Most Canadians discovered that international relief work was more challenging, perilous, and, sometimes, even life-changing than they ever could have anticipated before joining UNRRA. Once in the field, the cost of war assumed a starker human reality; the scars of war, emotional more than physical, soon surfaced among the peoples they had come to help. Even though she was a well-trained psychiatric welfare

10

Armies of Peace

worker, Ethel Ostry was simply overwhelmed with emotion when she first encountered the human wave of refugees roving throughout Europe at Metz, France. ‘They walked with a wretched, weary air, some stooping, many falling behind. Here and there one bravely held aloft a French flag, torn and dirty.’4 For the most part, ‘their faces were vacant. Life seemed to have become meaningless.’5 This first sight of European displaced persons, ‘men, women and children in the flesh, massed like cattle, returning from nowhere to homes that perhaps no longer existed,’ stunned Ostry, who felt ‘deeply ashamed that in the twentieth century mankind still caused such things to happen.’6 The shame was especially acute in the case of the Jewish displaced persons, practically all of whom were concentration-camp survivors and ‘so were in a much worse state, both physically and mentally, than others who had been kept as factory, construction and farm labourers.’7 Canadian UNRRAIDS developed a profound respect and empathy for the survivors of Nazi tyranny as they faced renewed uncertainty in their struggle to reunite families and recover their own professional and cultural identities. Many Canadians consequently found their work both rewarding and exasperating as they battled against administrative inefficiency and indifference, political intrigues that sometimes erupted into civil war, and sheer human pettiness beyond their control. Their personal situation was further complicated by the fact that UNRRA did not have a well-established blueprint of operation; its administrative structure and policy directives emerged as the UNRRAIDS struggled to meet relief and rehabilitation requirements that could be accurately assessed only after the guns of war were silenced. As Edmison’s reflections clearly suggest, decisions taken within UNRRA’s policy-making body directly affected the performance of UNRRA workers in the field. An integral part of this study explores how successfully Canadians UNRRAIDS coped with the operational and personal difficulties that were associated with trying to launch a massive international welfare effort without a clear administrative blueprint, and with a limited time frame to achieve results. The success of this ground-breaking post-war international organization would ultimately depend upon the effectiveness of its staff. Since Canadians occupied a number of key administrative positions at UNRRA’s headquarters and in the field, their stories bear witness to UNRRA’s struggles and triumphs to build an administrative structure on an ad hoc basis to meet unanticipated logistical and human chal-

Introduction 11

lenges in an international environment where the vestiges of wartime Allied cooperation fractured with the onset of the Cold War. Moreover, recovering their stories bears poignant testimony that Canada’s contribution to post-war healing reached beyond its official diplomatic and economic policies to include the service of ordinary Canadians who served as administrators, nurses, doctors, or technical experts in wartorn countries. For many, the UNRRA years became a prologue to a personal odyssey that would continue long afterwards. The journey to do relief work overseas both altered personal lives and provided a new political lens to judge post-war Canadian society. For some, it was a stepping stone, either politically or professionally, to the international stage; for others, it was the gateway to national prominence. In part, the Canadian government was made aware of the dire plight of the refugees who remained in the camps by its UNRRA representatives. The voices of returned Canadian UNRRAIDS were added to the growing chorus of those demanding a more liberal approach to post-war immigration. Equally, dozens of these Canadians helped to pioneer new international initiatives to deal with the social-justice, humanitarian-relief, shelter, and resettlement issues that lingered long after UNRRA closed its doors. Canada’s, and Canadians’, involvement in UNRRA is explored in four sections within this book. The first part focuses on Canadian statesmen’s role in negotiating UNRRA’s formation and in shaping its work both at subsequent Council sessions and through Canada’s contribution to UNRRA’s procurement program. Part Two examines the challenges, contributions, and coping strategies of Canadians on UNRRA’s field staff as they navigated their personal and professional relationships within the organization’s displaced-persons operations. Part Three investigates the experiences of the Canadian UNRRAIDs who provided crucial medical services throughout UNRRA’s far-flung missions. Part Four assesses the formative influences of the UNRRA years in shaping Canadian post-war society, the country’s involvement on the world stage, and the lives of the UNRRAIDS after they came home. Through it all, the book endeavours to tell the story through the eyes not only of politicians, diplomats, and high-ranking officials but also of field workers. Our goal has been to provide the first comprehensive examination of Canada’s overall contribution to the international humanitarian relief effort from 1943 to 1947.

12

Armies of Peace

In doing so, we believe that we have broken new ground. CanadaUNRRA relations were generally lauded in the three-volume official history of UNRRA by George Woodbridge. Written in 1950, that study resembles more a public-relations effort, designed to buttress support for the newly founded United Nations and its umbrella agencies, than an exercise in rigorous scholarship. The desire to present UNRRA, and coincidently Canada’s involvement in it, in a positive manner served to obscure the complexities of the power relationships and uneven exercise of leadership at all levels that underscored UNRRA’s entire existence.8 More recently, national historians have adopted more critical analytical frameworks for examining what was once regarded as the ‘golden age of diplomacy,’ instead highlighting how vested self-interest and pragmatism shaped Canada’s post-war international behaviour.9 Their investigations, however, continue to focus on diplomatic and economic relationships, particularly Canada’s attempts to shape the post-war international order as exemplified by Ottawa’s failed bid for full membership in UNRRA.10 Similarly, recently published biographies of two key Canadian players in UNRRA, Lester Pearson and Mary McGeachy, are well-crafted and thoughtful contributions to the historical literature, but they, too, primarily examine the UNRRA years in terms of the ideas, principles, and practices of their subjects,11 rather than from the broad perspective that we offer here. Moreover, our decision to explore the legacy of the UNRRA years on the social fabric of post-war Canadian society marks another major departure from the current body of historical literature, where the primary focus is on Canada’s subsequent commitment to and its role in UNRRA’s successor organizations. In fact, even though Canadians held positions within every UNRRA country mission and at every administrative level, Canadian UNRRAIDS have received little attention in either academic or popular historical accounts. Grace Tomkinson’s article in the Dalhousie Review, in July 1945, claimed that ‘over a hundred of our leading citizens have joined UNRRA’s staff. Most of them are now in Europe. There are doctors, lawyers, nurses, technical experts, college professors, welfare workers and secretaries from every corner of the Dominion, who now hold some of the most responsible positions in the Administration. Each before being accepted had proved himself an expert in his own line, and his skill is now being applied to re-building hopeless ruins and solving insoluble problems.’12 She informed her readers that UNRRA’s staff were ‘expected to have adaptability, plain common sense and an inter-

Introduction

13

national mind, with a feeling of responsibility not to his own government but to the administration.’ The official history mirrored the Tomkinson’s glowing portrayal of the UNRRAIDS’ role in the field; it, too, was a portrait carefully airbrushed for public consumption.13 Recovering the Canadian UNRRAIDS’ stories illuminates the human tragedy and triumphs missing in the official institutional history of the organization.14 There was a vast gulf between the reality of the UNRRAIDS’ life and the public discourse of articles like the one written by Grace Tomkinson or Woodbridge’s official history. Against this background, our book represents an effort to document the complexity of Canadian social workers’ and nurses’ international roles outside the confines of traditional missionary or military work. A study of UNRRA’s field operations has meant a modification of the traditional policy-oriented approach to incorporate analytical constructs drawn from the rich body of social, gender, and nursing historical literature developed since the original thesis was written in 1980. Our study of Canada-UNRRA international relations was influenced in particular by recent trends in nursing historiography. Both fields of history – international relations and nursing – have moved well beyond the confines of institutional and legal histories that chronicled and celebrated, in the one case, Canada’s march to nationhood, and, in the other, the nursing profession’s search for professional accreditation and social validation. Nursing historians have refined or expanded their focus of inquiry beyond the nursing leaders and the profession’s universalizing experiences15 by incorporating analytical concepts derived from social history, particularly the history of women’s economic and gender relations in the workplace.16 The recent historiographical depiction of nurses, as a more complex and diversified professional entity, informed our study of Canadian UNRRA nurses as a prism through which to examine the larger international organization for which they worked. UNRRA tested in the field the well-established professional ideal that nursing was a universal experience irrespective of the geopolitical setting. Giving voice to Canadian UNRRA nurses’ stories provides an instructive lens not only into the cultural barriers encountered in the provision of international nursing services in the first post-war international organization but also into UNRRA’s demise. The combined stories of the Canadian politicians, civil servants, and UNRRAIDS afford a rich historical investigative tool for understanding the dynamics of decision making and leadership capacity in the first post-war international organization. The current study, then, strives to

14

Armies of Peace

offer a less romantic, more nuanced and textured – in short, more human – portrayal of Canadian international humanitarian and diplomatic history as the Allied community made the uncertain transition from war to peace. Nor is our study without significance for the present. Canadians today continue to face similar challenges in dealing with the seemingly insatiable demands for humanitarian aid to handle the ravages of war, natural disasters, and epidemics within the contemporary global community. The lessons of the UNRRA years still have relevance for contemporary debates over what role Canadians should and can play in the world.

PART ONE The Diplomacy of Relief, Rehabilitation, and Repatriation

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1 Creating UNRRA

In the middle of the darkest period of the Second World War, long before victory over Hitler was in sight, the Allied leaders were already thinking seriously about post-war reconstruction. As the Battle of Britain continued over the summer of 1940, British Prime Minister Winston Churchill, in an attempt to soften his uncompromising refusal to allow any supplies through the continental blockade, promised future assistance to the occupied countries of Europe: ‘We shall do our utmost to encourage the building up of reserves of food all over the world, so that there will always be held up before the peoples of Europe including – I say deliberately – the German and Austrian peoples, the certainty that the shattering of the Nazi power will bring them all immediate food, freedom and peace.’1 The pledge of post-war relief, designed to stiffen resistance to Nazi occupation, was more than a short-term military strategy. The Allies viewed post-war relief as a vital economic weapon geared to absorb the anticipated slack in demand as the wartime economies retooled for peacetime production. In addition, immediate civilian relief and the longer-term economic rehabilitation of war-torn countries would prime the trade pump among nations, facilitating a more rapid transition to a genuine multilateral system of international trade.2 In the interim, UNRRA’s task was to tide Europe over the dangerous period following the cessation of hostilities. The European landscape resembled ‘a giant ant-hill, disturbed by the ruthless Axis boot, with the inhabitants swarming in all directions after food, shelter, families, or just in sheer panic, swarming. Left alone this would end in some sections coming out with nothing. Prices would soar, and general chaos would be let loose.’3 The vastness of the task was equalled only by the potential cost of failure. The United States was determined to avoid

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Diplomacy of Relief, Rehabilitation, and Repatriation

repeating its mistakes after the last war, when vast quantities of American goods were sold overseas ‘by lending abroad the money with which to pay for them’ and by ‘raising our tariff wall to unprecedented heights.’4 That economic policy, it was widely believed, had culminated in a cycle of depression followed by the outbreak of war. Instead, the invaded countries without adequate foreign exchange would be given aid to rebuild their industrial and agricultural bases as the first step towards restoring trade.5 UNRRA was, then, a child of war conceived and financed by the Great Powers, and its immediate antecedents can be found in a series of wartime ad hoc bodies held under the auspices of the British and American governments. As originally conceived, the Allies’ wartime collaboration would have been extended primarily to deal with the supply aspects of post-hostilities relief. In late 1940 a committee under the chairmanship of Sir Frederick Leith-Ross, the British government’s chief economic adviser, began collaborating with the European governments-in-exile to determine their countries’ relief requirements for the initial six-month period following liberation.6 These discussions, held at St James’s Palace, London, led in September 1941 to the creation of the Inter-Allied Committee, formed from representatives of eight European allies, the Free French, the dominions, and Britain. In practice, since the Inter-Allied Committee on Post-war Requirements (popularly known as the Leith-Ross Committee) lacked any operating funds, the procurement and financial arrangements for the supplies were to be negotiated directly between the governments-in-exile and supplier countries. The sole dissenting voice at the St James’s Palace meeting was that of the Soviet Union’s representative. The Soviets feared that a British chairman, a British secretariat, and representatives from the governments-inexile in London would leave the newly formed committee open to British domination. Russia therefore abstained from the work of the committee, which reduced but did not entirely eliminate its effectiveness. Eventually, the Soviets looked to an international relief agency as an alternative to a British-dominated Inter-Allied Committee. In the meantime, following its entry into the war in 1941, the United States government also began to make its own arrangements for postwar relief, and in so doing it quickly made clear that its presence at the international relief table would come at a price. Within the State Department, a senior committee was established to make recommendations on post-war foreign policy to the president. The American subcommittees on economic reconstruction and post-war economic policies reviewed

Creating UNRRA 19

the findings of the Inter-Allied Committee and started the preliminary drafting of what would become the UNRRA Agreement. During the months following the St James’s Palace meeting, there were three separate proposals advanced for the formation of a relief agency and three major attempts to draft the agreement. While the details of the negotiations lie outside the focus of this study, one aspect bears comment. The various drafts represented two competing and contradictory approaches to structuring decision making within the new international organization: the British stressed the need for a traditional decisionmaking authority, and the Americans favoured the creation of a strong administrative bureaucracy with wide discretionary latitude. As the largest financial contributor and predominant supplier nation, the United States believed that formal legal or political guarantees were unnecessary to guarantee its future influence in the new international body. The debate would continue at UNRRA’s first Council sessions as the barebones of the agreement were fleshed out.7 Following the Allied invasion of North Africa in 1942, the need for civilian relief became a more immediate concern. President Roosevelt appointed Herbert H. Lehman to the position of director of the Office of Foreign Relief and Rehabilitation, in charge of coordinating the American relief program. Lehman was elevated to this post without any prior consultation with the Allies, though his appointment was generally understood in Washington and London to indicate that he was the president’s choice for the position of director of the pending international relief organization.8 Lehman and his special assistant, Hugh R. Jackson, visited London in April 1943 to hold conversations with Allied military and civilian authorities, including representatives of the Soviet and Chinese governments, that laid the groundwork for the preparations for the post-war relief program on both sides of the Atlantic. Following this visit, Lehman figured prominently in the preliminary drafting of the UNRRA Agreement and in the lengthy negotiations that followed. He and his staff wrote position papers, shaping the policies on most of the major problems that would confront UNRRA. Indeed, in many cases, the authors of these preparatory papers emerged as leading administrators of the new organization. When the UNRRA Agreement was finally signed, Lehman became the director general of UNRRA. By then, it was becoming apparent to all that the United States was determined to play the same dominant role in relief efforts that it had assumed in the Allied wartime procurement and allocation machinery. Although the tendency for parallel structures and overlapping prepara-

20

Diplomacy of Relief, Rehabilitation, and Repatriation

tion was not as yet fully apparent, the ongoing rivalry between Washington and London had already been foreshadowed in UNRRA’s founding documents. Its continuation contributed to the administrative chaos that would fester within the fledgling organization throughout its existence. Canada and the New World Order The Canadian government had certainly been kept up to date on the early discussions in London and Washington about plans to create an international relief organization. Canada had decided not to join the Inter-Allied Relief Committee on Post-war Requirements when it was created in 1941, preferring to reserve its entire position on food questions.9 It did, however, send observers to almost every meeting, indicating its more than casual interest in the issues of post-war relief. The Canadian government finally began to formulate its policy on these matters after the U.S. draft proposals for the new international agency were forwarded to it confidentially by the British government in May 1942. Ottawa reviewed the American draft with its wartime experience of dealing with the other Allies clearly in mind. By now, the Canadian government was becoming increasingly frustrated by what it viewed as a lack of adequate Canadian representation on the Combined Boards, which Churchill and Roosevelt had established early in 1942 to coordinate the production and distribution of war materials. Most serious, in Ottawa’s view, was Canada’s exclusion from the Combined Food Board, despite the fact that Canada probably had the largest reserve of surplus exportable food.10 Canadian diplomats continued to press this claim for over a year, to little avail, and its failure made the government, somewhat belatedly, more determined than ever to obtain adequate representation on the directing body of UNRRA, where it again would be expected to be a principal source of relief supplies. The Canadian government found itself in the unenviable position of being pressured by Great Britain to accept what Ottawa could only view as a totally unacceptable American draft. The American proposal envisaged UNRRA acting largely in an advisory capacity and controlled by a four-power executive, consisting of the United States, Britain, the Soviet Union, and China. The British exerted considerable pressure upon Canada to accept this arrangement, hoping thereby to ward off similar unwanted claims for representation on the policymaking body from the governments-in-exile in London or from Brazil

Creating UNRRA 21

or Australia. Officially, the British opposed Canada’s inclusion on the grounds that a greatly expanded membership would make the Central Committee11 an unwieldy body. London also wanted to avoid any American displeasure at what would be perceived in Washington as an over-represented British side – still more evidence, if any were needed, that the myth of a British Empire common front continued to hold wide currency in Washington circles, despite Ottawa’s efforts to debunk it. While the Canadian Cabinet War Committee approved the American proposal in principle at the beginning of June 1942, Ottawa reserved the right to raise the question later on of Canadian representation on the key Central Committee. From the very beginning, therefore, Canada attempted to meet the demands of the major powers while simultaneously protecting its own interests.12 Canada was the only government other than those of the Big Four to receive the July 1942 American draft proposals for UNRRA, something Pearson credited as ‘recognition of our important position on this matter.’ Throughout the summer of 1942, Canada forcefully argued its position in both Washington and London. In Washington, Lester Pearson actively pressed for full information on all related post-war economic issues, carefully assuring Prime Minister Mackenzie King that, in informal conversations to date, ‘we have emphasized that Canada’s very special interest in post-war food questions should be adequately recognized in any organization set up for this purpose.’13 Pearson, who was predisposed to be conciliatory, carefully avoided defining ‘adequate’ for his prime minister. The British government eventually did reverse its position, only to find strong opposition to Canada’s inclusion from the Americans, Russians, and Chinese. For Britain, it was not a propitious moment to incur Canada’s wrath: in March 1942 Canada had provided Britain with a billion-dollar gift to purchase war materiel, and from April to June 1942 Canadian financial aid was two-fifths that of the United States. With the British Dominions Office concluding that, unless Canadian demands were met, future Canadian cash aid to Britain might be jeopardized,14 arrangements were made for Sir Frederick Leith-Ross, chairman of the Inter-Allied Committee, to visit Ottawa in person in order to discuss the plans to create UNRRA. Leith-Ross’s four-day visit to Ottawa underscored Britain’s endorsement of Canada’s claim to be treated as an equal partner in UNRRA, or as close to an equal partner as could be negotiated. The visit came as the Canadian Cabinet wrestled with its response to the American draft proposal, which denied adequate recognition for

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Diplomacy of Relief, Rehabilitation, and Repatriation

Canada’s role as a principal supplier nation within the new relief organization. Within the Cabinet, the minister of national defence, J.L. Ralston, maintained that the time had come to destroy the old argument that the admission of Canada to full membership would open the door to similar claims from other nations, including other dominions. He reminded his Cabinet colleagues that ‘the Canadian people expected Canada to take a full part in international undertakings of this kind and even assumed they were doing so.’ Prime Minister King was quick to point out that Canada would be ‘expected to contribute substantially to post-war relief’ and this ‘constituted a strong argument for representation.’15 Following the Cabinet War Committee meeting on 29 July 1942, Norman Robertson, the under-secretary of state for external relations, told Leith-Ross that Ottawa’s opposition to being denied any representation on the executive of UNRRA was adamant and that ‘a spirit of dictatorship’ seemed to inspire the proposals to deny Canada its place in the sun.16 This hard-line approach initially proved effective. During his visit to Ottawa, Leith-Ross had developed a great respect for Robertson’s views on this question and he took care not to soften the Canadian position when he relayed it to Washington via the American minister in Ottawa. ‘The Canadian attitude,’ Leith-Ross warned the minister, ‘was very clear-cut. If the four nations want to run the postwar world that is all very well, but they cannot expect the other nations to give freely or to make their full contribution unless they are brought into the picture as principals.’17 Robertson’s views, conveyed by LeithRoss, caught the attention of U.S. Under-Secretary of State Dean Acheson. At the same time, the Canadian government instructed its high commissioner in London, Vincent Massey, who was never centrally involved in the negotiations, to emphasize that the Canadian proposals ‘limited our requests to bodies in the work of which we are inevitably called upon to play a large part.’ While informing Massey that the Canadian government looked forward to full representation on the policy-making body rather than just being ‘afforded [the] means of protecting our direct interests when they come up for consideration,’ Ottawa noted: ‘The problem is to find a means whereby sound and speedy decisions can be taken (involving concentration in a few hands), while at the same time sharing responsibility for these decisions among the Governments which are mainly concerned in them.’18 This was an early statement of what would later become the Canadian govern-

Creating UNRRA 23

ment’s guiding maxim on the issue of post-war international organizations, the functional principle. By articulating this principle, Canada served notice to the international community that it had come of age as what the former diplomat John Holmes would later term ‘a large small power.’19 UNRRA would become a test case of whether this principle could be translated into something meaningful in the practice of international relations. The functional principle encompassed a two-pronged approach towards international organization: functional internationalism and functional representation. Functional internationalism prescribed ‘international economic and social co-operation as a means of reducing the likelihood of conflict and of building human accord, ultimately to the point of world government.’20 It prescribed an indirect approach to world peace and prosperity by lowering the temperature of nationalism, which had sparked global conflagrations in the past. Functional representation in turn has been delineated into two basic propositions: ‘first that the Great Powers are entitled to take the lead in international affairs, but not to dominate them; and secondly, control should be shared with such other powers as are able and willing to make a definite contribution to the particular object in view.’21 The distinction between functional internationalism and functional representation was clearly understood within the Department of External Affairs. Taken together, the two components of the functional principle allowed Ottawa simultaneously to pursue world peace and prosperity while protecting Canada’s national interests. Indeed, the functional principle permitted Canadian officials to custom-tailor the Canadian argument to target the differing concerns of Ottawa and Washington.22 Drawn from a series of commonly perceived past national experiences, it appeared to provide a wide umbrella of consensus among Canadian policy makers for the direction of Canada’s post-war diplomacy. Its application, however, in the upcoming debate about Canada’s role in UNRRA indicated that the approach was flexible enough to shelter subtle differences in individual perspectives on Canada’s international role. Canadian nationalists stressed functional representation or the national-self-interest component, and those of a more internationalist persuasion were stronger advocates of functional internationalism. The functional principle was attractive because it could be presented as a formula for limiting or discriminating between Canada’s future international commitments – a useful tool in overcoming both Norman Robertson’s and Mackenzie King’s reluctance to

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Diplomacy of Relief, Rehabilitation, and Repatriation

assume new international commitments – while at the same time providing a mandate for a more active post-war international role.23 In devising recommendations on post-war foreign policy, one of Canada’s ablest diplomats, Assistant Under-Secretary of State Hume Wrong, would be the prophet of functionalism within the Department of External Affairs. Wrong, a tall slender man with an academic turn of mind, was regarded by his contemporaries as a ‘realist who understood political forces better, unfortunately, than he does politicians themselves.’24 As a consequence, Norman Robertson, because of his special influence within the Cabinet War Committee – influence ‘unprecedented for a civil servant in Canada’ – would be the political broker to gain Mackenzie King’s approval.25 Robertson possessed a rare intuitive ability to know when he should solicit the support of King alone or approach the Cabinet directly, an ability that was crucial for marshalling the prime minister’s acquiescence to Canada’s involvement in post-war relief programs.26 King was never an ardent exponent of postwar internationalism, preferring to keep close watch on the domestic political pulse rather than plunging the Liberal Party into uncharted international waters. Robertson and Wrong shared a deep mutual respect, and, working together, they raised the functional principle to the level of a cardinal tenet of Canadian foreign policy. A third key figure, Lester (he preferred to be called Mike) Pearson, ‘was to be the idea’s salesman.’27 Pearson was known for his colourful bow ties and similarly pleasant manner, but, behind the carefully cultivated public persona, was a shrewd and intelligent young Canadian diplomat, determined to leave his mark on the international community. During the negotiations surrounding UNRRA’s formation, it would be Pearson’s job to convince Washington and London of functionalism’s value and Ottawa that the asking price not be too high. Pearson talked in strong terms of limiting national sovereignty to achieve a stable post-war world, which predisposed him to propose exactly the kind of concessions that King found politically awkward. In all of this, while Mike Pearson was politically ambitious for his country, he was equally mindful that furthering Canada’s international reputation would have important consequences for his own future. Canada found it increasingly difficult to sell the functional principle to the Great Powers and its chances of success steadily diminished in late 1942 and early 1943. The adamant Soviet opposition to the inclusion of Canada potentially threatened Britain’s continued backing of

Creating UNRRA 25

Canadian demands for a seat on the policy-making body of the new relief organization. Like a skilled surgeon, Hume Wrong quickly sliced through the Soviet objection that admitting Canada would make unanimity more difficult to achieve or indeed that unanimity was desirable: ‘If unanimity is essential it ought not in fact to be more difficult to secure in a committee made up of the four large powers and say Canada, Brazil and Belgium than in one composed of the four large powers alone ... A unanimity rule in the Relief Council would be absurd.’28 Norman Robertson and Prime Minister Mackenzie King both agreed. Wrong’s opinion became the official Canadian line put forward in London and Washington. Yet the timing of Canadian government’s move towards a hard-line position was not propitious. By mid-January 1943, several developments in the Washington negotiations among the Big Four made Canada’s position even more tenuous. First, the United States withdrew its earlier provisional approval of Canada’s inclusion on the Central Committee. Without American support, the Canadian government now found itself singled out as the only remaining obstacle to establishing the international relief agency. Moreover, the long-term political significance of granting the Canadian demands for full representation grew when the Soviet Union declared that the solution adopted for UNRRA would be regarded as a precedent for all future post-war international organizations. The Canadian government found itself wedged into an increasingly uncomfortable political corner. Not only did the Soviet commissar for foreign affairs, Maxim Litvinov, oppose Canadian membership on the Central Committee for the same reason Canada was espousing it, but Canada itself recognized that fighting too hard for greater representation might jeopardize its position on other more pressing issues in the middle of the war. Canada’s bargaining room was becoming narrower by the day. To overcome the impasse, Dean Acheson, on behalf of the United States, proposed two face-saving compromises. Either would meet the Canadian demands on a symbolic level while leaving the essential configuration of power still in the hands of the Big Four. Acheson proposed that Britain and Canada be represented on the Central Committee by two members who would share one vote, or, alternatively, that a committee of supplier countries be established.29 Neither Britain nor Canada had any enthusiasm at all for Acheson’s first proposal, which revived the outdated idea that all parts of the empire thought and voted alike, and Canada reacted strongly against the other proposal as well.30

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Diplomacy of Relief, Rehabilitation, and Repatriation

Norman Robertson pointed out for the prime minister and the Cabinet that far more was involved than Canada’s possible role within UNRRA, for this was the first time that the question of the post-war configuration of power in international organizations had emerged in a specific form. He advised his government to fight any acceptance of the fourpower plan, even going so far as to suggest that Ottawa’s objections should not be confined to the form of economic bodies alone since the precedent would certainly be used for all other post-war organizations. Early in February 1943, the Cabinet War Committee approved a document to be given to the U.S. secretary of state, Cordell Hull, conveying the views of the Canadian government on its representation in UNRRA. The language, according to Jack Granatstein, ‘was as tough as Canada talked at any time in the war.’31 Ottawa’s recalcitrant mood reflected its reading of the perceived swing in Canadian public opinion, which had already questioned ‘the place accorded to Canada in the various inter-allied bodies, which have been set up for the direction of the war,’ when the common front forged by the desire for victory and necessity of secrecy meant that ‘problems of this nature are to some extent disguised.’ After the guns ceased firing, ‘it will be very difficult, or even impossible, to persuade Parliament and the people of Canada to accept the financial burdens and other sacrifices ... unless they are satisfied that their representatives exercise their due part in its direction.’32 The Canadian diplomatic initiative failed when Acheson raised the political ante, threatening to abandon the whole UNRRA plan if a way around the stalemate could not be found. Canada was unprepared to shoulder the burden for the failure of the negotiations. Canadian policy makers differed on what Canada’s next step should be. In Washington, Pearson, realizing that the stakes were now too high, looked for a compromise to end the stalemate. But his conciliatory approach ran up against strong opposition in Ottawa, led by the powerful deputy minister of finance, Clifford Clark. Clark urged Norman Robertson to stiffen his spine in this diplomatic struggle, emphasizing that ‘Thank you boys, but count us out’ was the only possible response by the Canadian government: ‘We are still trying to run a democracy and there is some historical evidence to support the thesis that democracies cannot be taxed without representation. We have tried to lead our people in a full-out effort for the war, and we had hoped to lead them in such a way as to get their support behind the provision for relief and maintenance for battle-scarred Europe in the post-war years. We will not be able to secure their support for such a program if it, as well as the

Creating UNRRA 27

affairs of the world generally, are to be run as a monopoly by the Four Great Powers.’33 In Ottawa, the civil servants and the politicians were digging in their heels, unwilling to settle for anything less than full representation. In Washington, Lester Pearson was quietly working with the British, searching for a compromise that the Canadian government might accept. In light of Ottawa’s unwavering demand for full representation on the key Central Committee, a senior British diplomat, Noel Hall, suggested to Pearson that Canada be appointed the chair of the Committee on Supplies and therefore entitled to participate in the work of the Central Committee when matters of supply were under consideration. Even though Pearson subsequently took credit in his memoirs for the idea, at the time he was astute enough to let Ottawa believe that the initiative had come from a British diplomat.34 Initially, the Canadian Cabinet War Committee was prepared to stand its ground and refuse membership in UNRRA on any basis other than full membership in the Central Committee. In the words of J.L. Ilsley, the minister of finance, ‘no other basis would be understood or accepted by the Canadian people.’35 It would take a personal visit by Anthony Eden, the British foreign secretary, to persuade the Canadian Cabinet, and especially Prime Minister King, to accept a compromise solution. The visit itself, at the end of March 1943, signified the growing nervousness among British officials that Canada’s claim could jeopardize the relief organization’s actual establishment. Eden made it explicitly clear at a meeting of the Canadian Cabinet War Committee and in subsequent private conversations with the prime minister that the proposal permitting Canada to be the chairman of the Committee on Supplies was as far as Britain was prepared to go.36 Even prior to another War Cabinet meeting on 7 April, King had already decided ‘that the only thing for us to do was to accept. We would have gained nothing by refusing to accept except the ill-will of the four great powers, and in particular the U.S. and Britain ... The whole business is very involved and is one of the cases where it is clearly impossible for a lesser power to really do other than be largely governed by the views of the greater powers. What we could gain by staying out of co-operation with them, simply to decide how Canada’s relief would be distributed, I do not see.’37 The prime minister even feared an adverse public reaction if Canada refused to participate in UNRRA. The Cabinet followed the prime’s minister’s direction, acquiescing in

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Diplomacy of Relief, Rehabilitation, and Repatriation

the proposed compromise with certain understandable reservations. Ottawa served notice that it did not view the four-power pattern as an acceptable form of post-war international organization, and that it had no intention of abandoning its demand for full representation in future international bodies deemed vital to Canadian economic and political interests. Moreover, Canada’s acceptance was clearly predicated on the understanding that a Canadian would be selected as the chair of the Committee on Supplies.38 The Canadian selected was Lester Pearson. Although happy about the outcome, Pearson later wrote that he felt ‘left out on a limb by my political masters. I had told Mr. Eden and his officials that they were going to hear some really strong, tough complaints from the Canadian ministers about the way Canada had been treated. The Cabinet’s reluctance to make any complaint at all made me look rather foolish and their own strong telegrams to the mission in Washington more or less meaningless.’39 Pearson was shrewd enough to pass the compromise off to Ottawa as a ‘British recommendation,’ but he was politically ambitious enough to want Washington to view him as the real political broker with an intransigent Ottawa. Pearson was never entirely candid with Ottawa about his conversations with the State Department’s key representative, Dean Acheson. Had King known, it would only have increased his doubts about Pearson’s tendency to act on his own authority. He ‘was not obviously, Mr. King’s ideal of a prudent bureaucrat.’40 There is no doubt that Pearson acted outside his formal instructions by indicating a willingness to compromise. During his conversations, Pearson had gone so far as to suggest to Acheson on 26 January 1943 that Canadian representation on the Central Committee might not be necessary if the director general selected ‘his staff from a sufficient number of nations vitally concerned so that they would feel that they would have a place in taking of decisions.’ Acheson also recorded that Pearson was interested in a compromise solution involving the creation of a suppliers committee but held that the compromise as formulated would remain unacceptable to his government.41 Later, on 4 March 1943, he indicated in a private conversation that ‘Pearson was not prepared to say that the Canadian Government would push its position of actually refusing to join the proposed relief organization.’ Nor did Pearson reveal that he had suggested to Acheson that King’s ‘knowledge of this subject was slight’ and that the prime minister might be more amenable to the compromise if Acheson made a personal visit to him in Ottawa.42 Pearson was willing to exchange the traditional decision-making

Creating UNRRA 29

authority embodied in UNRRA’s political organs for greater influence over the strong administrative bureaucracy envisaged in the American draft of the UNRRA Agreement. Aware that the Americans viewed UNRRA primarily as a supply operation, where the major decisions would be made by those who controlled the procurement channel, he was prepared to compromise. His actions during these negotiations also reflected reservations about the effectiveness of the Central Committee and the Council that were based upon his experience at the League of Nations, a view he held long before his appointment to Washington. Pearson, in short, was already looking for avenues of influence beyond the legal guarantees of representation on the Central Committee.43 And, in fact, when given precisely this opportunity in UNRRA, Pearson quickly gained a reputation, as his biographer, John English, notes, as ‘a skilful negotiator and chairman.’44 UNRRA was to be a significant stepping stone for his political reputation at home and abroad. Seeking Approval for UNRRA at Home The Canadian government now had to convince the public, whose opinions vacillated about Canada’s future international role in a world vastly changed from that of 1939, that UNRRA would be good for the country. The prevailing uncertainty on this point presented the government with both peril and opportunity; it was the job of politicians and publicists to obviate the one and promote the other. The government’s chief spokesman was Brooke Claxton, parliamentary secretary to Prime Minister King, who was selected to head the Canadian delegation at the opening UNRRA conference in Atlantic City in November and December 1943. In fact, Herbert Lehman had tried to recruit Claxton at Atlantic City to work for UNRRA, but Claxton, after consulting King, prudently decided to remain in Canadian political life.45 The prime minister delegated to Claxton the job of shepherding the legislation implementing the UNRRA Agreement through the House of Commons. The bill was introduced on 18 June 1943, but the major debate on Canadian participation in the relief organization did not occur until the bill’s second reading almost a year later, on 17– 18 April 1944. Despite minor concerns that Canada’s financial commitment be limited, the bill had a fairly smooth passage. Few members questioned Canada’s moral obligation to aid the liberated nations – Canada, after all, had escaped the ravages of actual invasion and was

30

Diplomacy of Relief, Rehabilitation, and Repatriation

therefore able to provide assistance46 – or doubted Claxton’s assurance that the designated recipients of relief would be Canada’s export customers of the future and that, in the meantime, relief purchases would provide much-needed employment for Canadians.47 This note was struck by speakers from all parties. John Diefenbaker, who, along with Gordon Graydon, was one of the Conservative Party’s main spokesmen, expressed the hope that UNRRA might provide a laboratory where the nations of the world would be able to work out plans for international peace and economic well-being. But Diefenbaker’s comments primarily focused on making sure that the economic opportunities presented by Canada’s participation were correctly exploited. This, he believed, could be done only if ‘the contribution that we shall make will be, in the main, one of our agricultural products, to the end that our farmers will be assured in the post-war period a security of opportunity in the world markets for Canadian agricultural products.’48 Characteristically, the needs of Diefenbaker’s Saskatchewan constituents came first. Despite the general consensus across political parties that Canada should make a generous contribution to the relief and rehabilitation of the liberated nations, concerns were raised on two issues. Some MPs were disturbed that subsequent decisions relating to UNRRA could be made through a Cabinet order-in-council, thus bypassing Parliament.49 Others criticized the Liberal government for not insisting that Canada be included on the Central Committee directing the policies of UNRRA. Claxton deftly deflected both criticisms. He pointed out that orders-incouncil would be primarily used to purchase supplies. Any other method would result in the ridiculous situation of Parliament having to approve every bushel of wheat sold. The complaint that Canada should have been a member of the Central Committee was more serious. Claxton countered it by saying that Canada’s place in UNRRA was second only to that of the Great Powers. ‘We can apply the functional principle too far. We cannot be on every board there is in the world.’50 Part of Claxton’s assignment was to prevent the legislation from being sidetracked unnecessarily. This involved removing any misconceptions of what UNRRA realistically could be expected to accomplish towards Europe’s recovery or of what Canada’s role would be in the relief organization. He spent a considerable amount of time squelching the rumour that relief would be used as a political weapon and in allaying the fear that UNRRA would infringe upon Canada’s sovereignty. Claxton had the best grasp of anyone in the House of Common of the

Creating UNRRA 31

significance of UNRRA’s creation and he offered the most perceptive analysis of the international relief that it would administer. He simply dominated the debate. M.J. Coldwell, the leader of the Co-operative Commonwealth Federation (CCF), urged the government to widen the scope of UNRRA’s activities in order to align that organization more closely with a larger social-democratic vision of the new world order. He looked to UNRRA to lay the ‘foundation of a finer type of world citizenship,’ whereby the world would come to be regarded as ‘more of a unit in relation to the production and distribution of the good things with which it is endowed.’51 Elaborating his view of UNRRA as a deterrent to future wars, he argued in a speech to the American Labor Conference on International Affairs in December 1944 that the roots of the Second World War could be traced to the rampant economic nationalism of the 1930s. ‘International peace begins at home ... If there is an arch-enemy of peace in the world today it is the recurrent menace of mass unemployment.’ Thus, UNRRA was a ‘stepping stone to peace,’ for only by ‘working together could nations relieve the tensions which will otherwise find release in war.’52 The familiarity of the themes and images that underscored Coldwell’s speech is understandable given that he consulted the Department of External Affairs prior to writing it! More significantly, Coldwell’s consultation with External Affairs makes clear that the general consensus around this aspect of Canadian foreign policy crossed party lines. Outside Parliament, too, neither opposition party took issue with the government’s plan for Canadian participation in UNRRA. The first statement of the new Progressive Conservative Party leader, John Bracken, on post-war foreign policy came in an interview given to Maclean’s in May 1944. Bracken believed that Canada should accept international obligations ‘which we would expect would be fair in relation to [its] strength.’ Had this principle been accepted during the lifetime of the League of Nations, he argued, the Second World War might have been avoided. To Bracken, it was equally clear that ‘the agents of the Canadian Government must be active in all the markets of the world to promote the sale and exchange of Canadian products.’53 Because of his friendships, his background, and his influence inside the King government, Claxton was a pivotal figure in presenting the case for UNRRA and a new world order to the Canadian people. He both reflected and manipulated the public mood in the late war period and read it with a sensitivity that rivalled that of the prime minister

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himself.54 Claxton well knew how variable the breeze of popular favour was in the fall of 1943. As victory in war drew nearer, Canadians were beginning to worry that their own war-induced prosperity and the full employment it had brought with it would be doomed when peace and normality returned. They had seen enough hard times during the ‘Dirty Thirties’ and now were looking for ways to extend their economic security beyond the outbreak of peace. In September 1943 a public-opinion poll indicating that the socialist CCF had pulled ahead of both Liberals and Conservatives in popular support gave both pundits and politicians a rude awakening.55 This news, coupled with the defeat of the Liberal government of Ontario in August, concentrated the minds of King’s Cabinet ministers on the search for post-war solutions that would put them back in favour with the Canadian public. In this effort, Claxton’s public speeches masterfully established a connection between UNRRA, relief, aid, trade, employment, prosperity, and, for the Liberals, electoral votes. Although UNRRA was a small component in the government’s program, it too could play its part to promote continued peace and prosperity for the Canadian people. Claxton’s task was to make the Canadian public understand why supporting UNRRA’s humanitarian work was in the country’s own selfinterest. His speeches on UNRRA are instructive about his views on the proper course that post-war Canadian policy should follow. They also provide a tool for understanding Canadian politicians’ and diplomats’ future actions at UNRRA Council sessions and in behind-the-scenes manoeuvring for UNRRA contracts. Three cardinal ideas shaped Claxton’s approach to post-war diplomacy. The first was that isolationism was neither desirable nor necessary. Claxton argued that Canada’s position had changed dramatically during the war as a result of its contribution to the war effort. He had no doubt that ‘Canada’s position as the fourth industrial power, the fourth naval power and the fourth air power in the free world, her membership in the British Commonwealth, her close association with her friendly American neighbour, her geographical relationship with the Soviet Union, all give her world-wide interests and major responsibilities and opportunities.’ Equally, he realized that ‘Canada’s resources, geographical position and dependence on world trade give her as great a stake in the peace of the world as any nation’s.’56 Claxton, an ardent advocate of Canadian-American cooperation, told his audiences in both Canada and the United States that neither country could ever again take shelter in a ‘Fortress America’ mentality during another global confrontation.

Creating UNRRA 33

Instead, both countries had to work together to promote the conditions that would lead to a lasting peace. Claxton’s speeches were symptomatic of the deeper anxieties pervading official circles within Canada that the United States would once again abdicate from its position of international responsibility as it had after the last war. Securing American involvement in international organizations like UNRRA was a form of insurance against this possibility. The second idea, rooted in memories of the Dirty Thirties, was that the seeds of a future war might lie in renewed depression. ‘Full employment and the hope of economic improvement will create a favourable atmosphere for international collaboration. On the other hand, the fear of unemployment leads to policies of additional protection which produce the downward spiral of depression and unemployment.’ Claxton advocated trade liberalization and the creation of a stable international monetary system as prescriptions against the onset of another depression.57 Lastly, Claxton believed that prosperity and security were indivisible; ‘the security of nations will make trade among nations flourish.’58 His public addresses were carefully crafted to convince Canadians that it was in their own self-interest to support the short-term economic measures designed to bridge the gap until a new economic world order could function effectively. ‘The work of UNRRA is the work of humanity. We are fighting this war for the right of humanity to be humane. There is no reason why we should stop with victory. No one worthy of the name of Canadian would wish us to do less than our full share. Moreover, here self-interest coincides with decent feelings. Canada is interested more than any other nation in seeing that the peoples of other countries are put in a position to buy our goods again.’59 UNRRA’s role as the link to both domestic and international prosperity reappeared in a radio speech that Claxton gave in April 1944. ‘The work UNRRA will do will help to restore friendly relations between nations that have been isolated by war, and in providing assistance to liberated countries, we shall be assisting ourselves by providing employment to those who produce in Canada the goods which will largely make up our contribution.’60 Claxton’s public-relations efforts on behalf of UNRRA were also helped by a growing recognition among the public that Canada would have to take an active part in helping to maintain world peace. A Gallup Poll in November 1943 indicated that 78 per cent of those Canadians surveyed were in favour of a more activist role on the international

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stage, even if this meant ‘sending Canadian forces to keep peace in other parts of the world,’ a point Claxton used in his speeches on foreign policy.61 Claxton’s public pronouncements captured the fundamental anxieties of Canadians as they began to contemplate their economic prospects in the post-war world. Their memory of the Depression was still all too vivid; fear of unemployment and of inadequate market demand was widespread. Canadians wanted to be reassured that what they had achieved during the war would be carried over to peacetime. Against this background, Claxton’s public talks on Canadian participation in UNRRA were designed to demonstrate that the King government was actively engaged in creating the conditions that were required for prosperity and full employment. One of Claxton’s friends, Mike Pearson, shared many of the same views on the role that Canada should play in the post-war world, and he was even better placed than Claxton to promote these views internationally. His appointment as the Canadian ambassador to the United States at the beginning of 1945 allowed him to speak and write for a much wider audience than the Ottawa bureaucracy, and it also provided opportunities to impress his own government as well as the British and Americans with his skills in international diplomacy, already evident in the negotiations that led to the UNRRA Agreement and to the creation of the Food and Agricultural Organization.62 Pearson was convinced that hollow legal doctrines, such as the sovereign equality of nations as embodied in the League of Nations, had proven impotent without the Great Powers’ backing. These outmoded legal constructs should now be shunned in favour of constructive cooperation on international welfare and economic issues. Pearson also took the view that strengthening the collective sense of a community of interests would help to forge a habit of international cooperation. For Pearson, finally, the increase of global interdependence in the aftermath of the atomic revolution made it all the more imperative that the United States never again retreat from the responsibilities of world leadership. At the same time, the realities of the atomic age rendered the old legal concept of sovereign equality even more antiquated. In notes for a speech on UNRRA, Pearson wrote that ‘our concept of national sovereignty needs overhauling. Independence is a rightly cherished possession among nations and individuals alike, but even more important for our civilization is our steady evolution from independence to interdependence.’ In place of sovereign equality and all that it implied, Pearson advocated a new concept of ‘co-operative nationalism’ for which

Creating UNRRA 35

UNRRA was to be a test case. He argued that ‘if co-operative nationalism cannot work in this field, then it is not likely to work in any other.’63 In a pamphlet written for the Wartime Information Board entitled ‘Canada and Post-War Organization,’ Pearson lauded ‘the workmanlike approach to practical problems’ followed in the shaping of UNRRA in which ‘the countries most concerned will play the most important, though not the only part.’64 It was preferable to construct a new world order from the ground up to one predicated on the concept of a balance of power, for the latter offers ‘no security ... peace balances precariously on the tips of bayonets and is easily knocked over.’65 Ottawa closely monitored public opinion towards UNRRA, while also carefully cultivating the growing awareness of the importance of post-war planning. The Canadian Institute of International Affairs, for example, held an unofficial conference on Canada’s post-war policies at the Seigneury Club at Montebello, Quebec, and considered the question of relief in a special session on 7 December 1943. Following a report on Canada’s role in UNRRA, the delegates agreed that, in supplying relief, Canada would also help to solve its internal post-war problems.66 Academic journals also reflected this growing interest in Canada’s new international role. Murray Tevlin wrote an article on ‘Canada and UNRRA’ for Canadian Affairs in September 1944, heralding the part that the new organization would play in reorganizing Canada’s industrial sector as well as ensuring long-term peace and prosperity. After generally reassuring his readers that ‘relief work carried out by the Allies will pay for itself many times over,’ Tevlin then detailed the economic advantages that would accrue specifically to Canada.67 Post-war aid would definitely be a two-way street. With the business sector, the Canadian government took care to spread the word that UNRRA, Canada’s contribution to international relief, and a return to a prosperous post-war world were interconnected. In 1944 C.F. Wilson, the chief of the grain division within the Department of Trade and Commerce, heralded the benefits of participation in international organizations, like UNRRA, for businessmen and farmers alike. Writing in the Canadian Banker, Wilson stated: ‘Through the permanent organization which is expected to follow upon the efforts of the United Nations Conference on Food and Agriculture, Canada is looking to the building of an expanding world economy, in which increased food production will be required to meet adequately world food consumption needs.’68 The following year, the deputy minister of trade and commerce cal-

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culated that ‘about 75% to 80% of the enormous export business belongs in the category of temporary, abnormal wartime trade. Canada’s normal pre-war export business became to a large extent a war casualty.’69 The production of civilian export goods had largely been replaced by wartime production for guaranteed export markets, and during the course of the war Canada’s private trading system verged on extinction.70 In this context, the early introduction of Canadian relief goods was intended to give Canada a head start in capturing post-war markets, with participation in UNRRA being only one of a series of initiatives sponsored by the King government to facilitate the transition to competitive international trade.71 Exporting relief goods would pick up the decline in demand in the wake of the termination of wartime contracts until permanent overseas markets could be re-established. The preference of the Canadian government in trade, as in other areas of foreign policy, was for a multilateral, liberal system, but, until such a system could be established, interim measures were necessary. Michael Hart, author of a recent study of Canada’s trade policy, states that ‘the multilateral urge’ at this time was ‘ubiquitous.’72 The malaise at the end of the war stemmed from the fact that businessmen found themselves cut adrift from the familiar laisser-faire economic theory and a national economic policy that relied heavily upon the tariff. Trade liberalization, increased government intervention in the economy, and Keynesian economics would be the watchwords of the next generation of businessmen. Yet the transition would be a difficult one to make and the government committed itself to assisting business, in part through its overseas relief programs, to help create a post-war climate conducive to Canadian exports. Business editorials took a positive view of UNRRA and, in doing so, repeated the arguments used by Claxton and Pearson. Canadian Business told its readers that ‘enlightened self interest’ required that Canada sign ‘a blank cheque on her future.’ The article continued: ‘Canada depends on external trade to a greater extent than most countries. She has a very real interest in seeing the countries freed from the Axis domination set on their feet as soon as possible. The sooner world trade gets back to normal, the better for this Dominion. Lastly, the $90 million which is supposed to pay Canada’s share in UNRRA during 1944 is a fleabite compared to the goods which Canada will actually supply to UNRRA and for which she will be paid.’73 The Canadian Exporters’ Association (CEA) claimed to represent business opinion. Indeed, its very formation in 1943 was symptomatic

Creating UNRRA 37

of uneasiness within the business community about the prospects for post-war prosperity. The association made certain that the prime minister knew the content of the resolutions passed at a meeting of its directors held in Toronto on 3 June 1944. The directors recommended that, in view of the importance of exports as the foundation of national income and of the fact that ‘the links of peacetime commerce [had been] largely severed for the past five years, that it is of the utmost importance that Canada have a voice in all United Nations Councils and Committees and other international arrangements which are planning and allocating the requirements of countries now being supplied or will be supplied with civilian goods.’74 Representation on these councils, the CEA believed, was the only way to guarantee that Canada would get its fair share of post-war trade. Canadian businessmen were looking for signs that the King government was responsive to their demand for post-war economic security and full employment. The government was equally anxious to reassure the business community that its opinions were being taken into consideration in Ottawa. The annual meetings of the powerful Canadian Manufacturers’ Association (CMA), which Liberal Cabinet ministers regularly attended, provided an excellent opportunity for both the business sector and the government to achieve their objectives in this regard. In its special Post-war Planning Conference held in Toronto from 12 to 14 June 1944, the CMA endorsed the Liberal government’s position that UNRRA would help Canadian business to capture future world markets: ‘UNRRA is not just a charitable institution ... As the new channels that will be paved through trade on a relief basis are likely to become permanent where European customers get used to products and trademarks which they will continue afterwards to buy from the same sources, it is important that Canada should have not only a fair share in the volume of UNRRA operations, but also some discretion in the selection of relief customers which will be our future trade partners.’75 The support of the CMA helped to strengthen the hand of the King government as it bargained to protect and expand the interests of Canadian manufacturers abroad. The Liberals spread the gospel on the benefits of international relief to another nervous but politically important interest group, Canadian farmers. ‘Canadian agriculture,’ they were told in the Farmers’ Advocate and Home Magazine, ‘has much to gain in the work of UNRRA.’76 Here, too, the relationship between UNRRA and better marketing for farm products was made explicit: ‘From a national viewpoint, we should be

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ready to contribute to rehabilitation so we can sell more in the future.’77 Similarly, the Country Guide took up the cudgels on UNRRA’s behalf. It pointed out to its readers that ‘since Canada has more food to spare than any other country in the world in proportion to its population, UNRRA is very important to Canada ... Therefore, Canada, perhaps, has more at stake in UNRRA than anybody. We’re the country with the groceries.’78 Farmers were especially anxious about the prospects for post-war markets. Canadian agriculture had expanded and prospered dramatically during the war, in contrast to the drought and disaster of the Great Depression. The price of farm goods rose appreciably, especially in the case of wheat and livestock products. The war had accustomed Canadian farmers to the federal government intervening in the economy to stabilize prices and to guarantee market outlets.79 Since agriculture at this time was ‘the most important single industry of the Canadian people,’ any reorientation in the external trade in agricultural products would have far-reaching results for the Canadian economy.80 UNRRA provided a convenient solution to any potential marketing problem posed by the wartime expansion of agricultural production. It also gave the King government time to develop plans that would reassure the farmers of Canada that their economic security and prosperity were not to be short-lived. King was keenly aware of the increasingly vocal demand of farmers – especially those dependent on external export markets – that the federal government continue to intervene in the economy in order to provide income security.81 He was certainly willing to meet that demand if it would assist the Liberals to steal the CCF’s political thunder. In his diary on 22 June 1944 the prime minister confided his concern that the forthcoming budget ‘contain something that would make clear our aim in the international field and our intention to assist producers and consumers in the domestic field.’82 He was determined not to let the CCF be seen as the sole party committed to providing relief to Canada’s primary producers. Conclusion UNRRA was the war baby of the fledgling United Nations, the earliest of what would become a steady proliferation of UN agencies, but, in contrast to some of the later organizations, it had both a limited scope and lifespan. The Allied leaders viewed the Administration’s functions of relief and rehabilitation as essential for a speedy end of military oper-

Creating UNRRA 39

ations and for a successful transition from war to peacetime economies. It was the child of a generation determined to avoid the errors made at the end of the First World War. If successful, UNRRA would open the door for European and Asian economic regeneration and a peaceful, prosperous, post-war society; its failure could mean the return of the boom-and-bust cycle that followed in the wake of the Versailles Treaty of 1919 and led to renewed war in 1939. UNRRA was an attempt to establish new patterns of world order before old national loyalties and hitherto dominant economic patterns could reassert themselves. In promoting Canada’s full participation in UNRRA, policy makers fine-tuned the general Canadian approach to the post-war world. Specifically, they enunciated a new principle that differentiated between varying degrees of international power in a manner that was both efficient and equitable – the functional principle. What this meant in concrete terms was that Canada sought to shape the power structure of post-war international organizations in a way that accommodated Great Power leadership with the growing public expectation for a more visible Canadian international role. It attempted to inject rationality, predictability, and coherence into an international system whose consequences Canada, as a trade-dependent nation, could not escape. In sum, the functional principle sought to reconcile the vivid memories of the Great Depression, and the legacy of being sidelined in the Allied direction of the war, with Canada’s current liabilities, assets, and future aspirations for a higher international profile. It was an approach to international affairs forged in pragmatism but tinged with idealism, born of both fear and hope. Enlightened selfinterest had guided Canada’s policy towards UNRRA during its formative stage. As the first experiment in international organization began its work, it remained to be seen if the assumptions upon which it was founded would prove illusory. If they did, the Canadian government’s goal of balancing its genuine concern to extend relief, not only on humanitarian grounds but as a first step toward international cooperation in other areas, and its own more limited national interests might be unattainable. Already, Canadians were coming to realize the magnitude of the tasks that faced UNRRA and the cost of failure. The Canadian government had given clear notice through its actions and public pronouncements that domestic political considerations would be carefully weighed against future international commitments. Would short-term economic goals conflict with unforeseen requirements for long-term economic

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planning? UNRRA’s ‘armies of peace,’ moving into action in the Middle East, Europe, and Asia, could be successful only with the moral as well as material backing of its member nations. As Grace Tomkinson concluded in her article in the Dalhousie Review on Canada’s participation in UNRRA: ‘The emergency for which UNRRA was created has proved bigger and more ominous than we contemplated.’83 As the third-largest contributing country to UNRRA, Canada would play a vital role in its success or failure. The new agency, as Tomkinson stated, was seen as ‘our instrument’ in that Canadians both collectively and individually took ownership through the participation of government and private individuals. And, having fought so long and so hard and at such cost to win the war, no Canadian wanted to contemplate its failure.

2 Canada at the Council Sessions

The first meeting of the representatives of the forty-four nations that had signed the UNRRA Agreement in Washington on 9 November 1943 took place the very next day and closed on 1 December in Atlantic City. In all, there would be five more Council gatherings: in Montreal, London, Atlantic City again, Geneva, and Washington (the last dealing with all the administrative, financial, and legal issues involved in closing down the operations and liquidating the assets). The first four meetings, where the major policy decisions were taken, provide the focus in this chapter for an evaluation of Canadians’ contribution to the work of the Council sessions. In many ways, the heated policy debates at UNRRA’s Council sessions foreshadowed the ongoing challenges that awaited the United Nations’ future attempts to launch long-term aid and refugee programs throughout the world. More immediately, however, the policies adopted at these meetings compromised the Administration’s ability to carry out its mandate in the chaotic aftermath of war and, in the end, heralded its demise. Equally important, the meetings furnished an early warning of the challenges of post-war multilateralism awaiting the Canadian government and its diplomats. Canada’s diplomatic representative, Lester Pearson, would work tirelessly and with commensurate skill to script a larger role for Canada within UNRRA’s governing body and to find constructive solutions to some of the most controversial problems confronting the organization. These Council meetings provided him with an international forum where he could showcase and hone his already indisputable diplomatic talents.

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Atlantic City I Intended primarily as an organizational session, the Atlantic City meeting continued until 1 December 1943 as the delegates worked feverishly to turn the vision articulated in the Agreement into a viable organization. The results of the meeting’s work, embodied in forty-one resolutions, set out the main principles that were to guide the Administration. UNRRA would ‘help people to help themselves’ by providing relief to those countries that were unable to pay, and, to prevent relief from being used as an instrument of international politics, it was to be distributed on an equitable basis irrespective of race, creed, or political belief. The resolutions reflected the dominant influence of the two principal supplier nations: Britain and the United States. The Americans, many of whom had played leading roles leading up to the conference, chaired crucial subcommittees at Atlantic City and held key administrative positions, allowing them to continue to exercise a major influence on the subsequent work of UNRRA. The Americans and British regarded civilian relief, especially in those areas that would be used for staging the final campaigns, as crucial for expediting the successful conclusion of military operations. Both nations developed plans for civilian relief during the initial phase of the liberation, even before the UNRRA Agreement was signed.1 In order to ensure a continuity of policy on supply operations in the liberated areas, the resolutions confirmed that the Administration would work within the terms established by the occupying military authorities right from the beginning. Prior to the opening of the conference, Canadian officials had made excellent use of personal contacts with their British and American counterparts to monitor the preparatory discussions for any developments adversely affecting Canada’s national interests. By October 1943, the British and the Americans were in agreement that UNRRA would be a temporary operation limited to providing short-term relief and rehabilitation. In late October 1943, when the head of the British delegation informed Canadian representatives of Britain’s position, Pearson added his own heartfelt viewpoint: ‘We should ourselves resist any tendency which there might be to magnify the Administration into a great international authority controlling the economic life of Europe and of the world.’2 Officially, Canada did not raise any objections to this philosophy. As a major supplier nation, Canada was far more concerned with securing a fair proportion of relief contracts than with the length of time the organization would operate.

Canada at the Council Sessions

43

Accordingly, Canadian officials had prepared a vigorous defence to protect Canadian interests at Atlantic City. The role assigned to the Committee on Supplies, which Pearson would chair, was regarded as the key safeguard for Canada’s position as a principal supplier nation. Well before the conference opened, Ottawa had been disturbed by rumblings that the United States and Great Britain were planning to perpetuate their wartime control over procurement of supplies for civilian relief. Both were strong proponents of extending the wartime Combined Boards’ authority over relief questions, thereby excluding the Committee on Supplies from any role in recommending the source of supplies. Since Canada was not a full member of the Combined Boards, it was extremely reluctant to relinquish control to these bodies. Moreover, the Canadian delegates were conscious of the potential for conflicting interests between receiving and supplier nations, and, accordingly, they wanted to settle supply issues of particular concern to Canada at Atlantic City. Canada thus approached the Atlantic City meeting in a somewhat ambiguous position – that of a principal supplier nation which had not been admitted to the company of the Big Four. There was another area of special importance for Canada at the upcoming Council session. Canadian officials generally concurred that UNRRA would establish precedents for the treatment of smaller powers at other international conferences. Hume Wrong had warned Pearson that ‘it is extremely likely that the administrative procedures, which will come before the Relief Council, will be used as precedents and will, therefore, have to be examined in this connection.’3 At the same time, the Canadian attitude at Atlantic City was equally determined by a genuine desire to create a truly effective relief agency as a stepping stone to future international cooperation in other socio-economic areas. Pearson’s moving speech, delivered to the UNRRA staff on the first anniversary of the organization, warned that the cost of UNRRA’s failure would be much greater than the loss of relief for the liberated countries: ‘The cause of international collaboration itself would suffer. If UNRRA, which makes its appeal both to our highest feelings of human compassion and to our instinct of enlightened self interest, cannot prove by its actions and its results that nations can work together, effectively and harmoniously, then, believe me, the outlook for international peace and progress is bleak indeed.’4 The Canadians would have to be adept at seeking every avenue to advance Canadian interests deftly without prejudicing UNRRA’s performance.

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Ottawa had chosen its delegation with these considerations in mind. Pearson was named head of the delegation and the Canadian member of the Council. But the man with the prime minister’s ear was his parliamentary secretary, Brooke Claxton. He assessed the quality of the Canadian delegates in a report for Mackenzie King, starting with Pearson – ‘as you know, there are few to equal Mike’ – before going on to be equally laudatory about the other members, taking special note of the close contacts many had with their American and British counterparts in attendance. His reassurance to his anxious prime minister that the Canadian delegation was ‘small but good and apparently better prepared than many others’ was carefully crafted to soothe any fears King may have had about the ability of Canadians to operate in a new, multilateral world. As a major supplier nation, Canada was particularly interested in the financial arrangements. The UNRRA Agreement had established the principle that contributions by member governments were to be made voluntarily. Claxton related to King the difficulties in working out the financial arrangements in a manner satisfactory to Canada, one that would ‘spread the burden fairly and permit exceptional cases being dealt with without loss of face.’ The Canadian delegation gave strong support to the American proposal that each member country devote 1 per cent of its national income to UNRRA’s operations, but they argued that even that had ‘too many loopholes for the escape of anyone who doesn’t like to pay ... The U.K. and ourselves go further in supporting the U.S. proposal than anyone else.’5 Later, Claxton confided to his prime minister that the final compromise formula, which attempted ‘to avoid specific escape clauses or escape procedures,’ had been forged during a private meeting of Commonwealth delegations, held in the Canadian rooms.6 This was an early example of what became the hallmark of Canadian diplomatic initiatives at UNRRA Council sessions: constructive suggestions designed to advance Canadian interests while laying the administrative groundwork for a viable international organization. These same objectives influenced the delegation’s attitude on several other outstanding issues. Next, UNRRA had to translate each nation’s financial contribution into supplies without jeopardizing the ongoing war effort controlled through the Combined Boards. The Canadian delegation protested strongly against the paramount role originally envisaged for the Combined Boards and instead backed the new director general’s idea of ensuring that UNRRA had authority for all programs of relief in liber-

Canada at the Council Sessions

45

ated countries whether or not the receiving countries were in any position to pay for this relief. Canada feared that, if the Anglo-American control of procurement and shipping was not challenged, its chance of securing an early advantage in capturing post-war foreign markets would be lost. In the end, however, Canada was not entirely successful in its efforts to curb the power of the Combined Boards; they retained more authority over the allocation of supplies and shipping than the Canadians originally intended, and Lehman would still have little leverage to advance UNRRA’s claims for scarce commodities before the Combined Boards over those of the other Allied nations. Nonetheless, the final compromise more closely suited the Canadian desire to utilize UNRRA as its own bridgehead for post-war markets. The need to translate money into supplies also pushed to the forefront the divergent Anglo-American views about the director general’s authority. The Canadian delegation, opposed to the American disposition to grant broad discretionary powers to the director general, attempted to preside over ‘a marriage of the American and British conceptions’: ‘We will have an UNRRA ... with effective representation of its members on a functional basis, and we still have a strong executive free to carry out its tremendous task, but in accordance with general lines of policy laid down by the representatives of the forty four nations.’7 Behind the scenes, the Canadian delegation spent considerable time persuading Director General Lehman that, while he must ‘secure the backing of the regional and supplies committee in which the interested nations are represented,’ he could still be left free to execute policy. At the Council sessions, Brooke Claxton invoked the functional principle, albeit clothed in domestic politics, to strengthen the Canadian position: ‘This functional principle can be applied with special advantage to questions concerning the organization of relief and rehabilitation. It may be that – even after the guns have long ceased to fire – some nations may have to continue on limited rations so that others may be saved from starvation. No government of a supplying country will find this easy to do, unless it is in a position to tell its people that it has an effective voice in the policy of governing supplies.’8 The Canadian delegation cleverly resorted to arguing the merits of the functional principle on grounds with which the American delegation, facing its own struggle to secure funding for UNRRA from Congress, could more easily identify. In advancing this principle, Canadian representatives sought to reconcile Lehman’s desire to gain effective administrative control with Canada’s desire to be a player in determining policy relat-

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ing to supply questions that were vital to its national political and economic interests. They did so by advocating the separation of the administrative and policy-making levels. Canada was trying to divorce the administration of relief from Great Power politics. Claxton claimed that ‘we are objective. We want UNRRA to be an effective international organization that will work. We are not interested in questions of status for Canada or for anyone else. Canada’s reputation stands high and her position seems assured.’9 The Canadian delegation, however, was hardly the disinterested bystander suggested by Claxton. Fortunately for the Canadians, Canada’s so-called ‘objective’ requirements dovetailed nicely with the Canadian government’s short-term economic goals. Its role as chair of the Committee on Supplies was seen as vital to protecting Canada’s position as a leading contributor nation, one for which UNRRA purchases would be an important economic safety valve against high unemployment during the difficult transition from war to peace. Constraining the power of the Combined Boards which Britain and the United States had created and that of the director general of UNRRA were the logical corollaries of Canada’s aspirations; the commanding roles originally proposed for both were unacceptable to Canada because they placed the formulation of procurement policies beyond the reach of Canadian influence. From the beginning of the Atlantic City meeting, the Canadian delegation struggled to strengthen its position as chair of the Committee on Supplies, even though other countries did not see the role in the same way. John Deutsch, a member of the Canadian delegation, reported that ‘little thought has been given to this matter by other delegations.’ He went on to highlight the quandary of obtaining ‘any clear idea of the United States view of the role of the Committee on Supplies, except that they appear to be somewhat at a loss in stating just what it would do.’10 In Ottawa, Hume Wrong argued that the British proposals diminished the policy-making role of the committee, substituting instead functions ‘which are intermediate and shadowy.’11 His cynicism was shared by Deputy Finance Minister Clifford Clark, who had been sceptical right from the beginning of the wisdom of Canada accepting the position of committee chair. Clark argued that ‘the Great Powers have whittled down the functions of the Committee on Supplies to a point where it means nothing at all and they are in the process of whittling down the functions of UNRRA in the getting and distribution of supplies in the same way ... I am afraid the new developments merely make my prejudices stronger.’12

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Pearson was designated the chair of the subcommittee that eventually worked out a more acceptable draft of the functions of the Committee on Supplies. The essence of the changes as reported to the Canadian government was that the committee had been given important functions and ‘will play a larger part in the affairs of the Administration’ through advising the Council and the director general on the provision, financing, and transportation of supplies. Moreover, Pearson would be included in meetings with the Combined Boards and attend Central Committee meetings whenever supplies were under discussion.13 Yet Clark remained dubious of the long-term value of ‘the dolled up’ functions of the Committees on Supplies.14 In contrast, Pearson was more confident that ‘skill and careful cultivation of influence in Washington and London,’ rather than the formal powers of the committee, would be the crucial factor in protecting Canada’s interests as a major supplier nation. The Canadian delegation had already relied upon the support of the British to obtain several concessions that were crucial from the Canadian perspective, even while maintaining a public posture of independence. For the prime minister’s benefit, Claxton went into considerable detail describing the Canadian delegates’ friendships that facilitated the exchange of confidential information with the other delegations: ‘Dean Acheson, Chairman of the Conference, spent three hours in our room Saturday night, discussing everything with utmost frankness. Many members of the secretariat are close personal friends of ours. The Englishman, who had the most to do with working out the details of UNRRA’s operations, stayed with us in 1931. Through him, I got a copy of the secret instructions of the British delegation. The British have prepared extraordinarily well for the Conference. They have forty-four people here and many of them have been working together like a team for months.’15 The detailed information obtained through these sources provided the Canadian delegation with a sophisticated understanding of the political and economic factors that limited the ability of the United States and British delegations to compromise their positions. Understanding these constraints gave the Canadians a considerable advantage in preparing briefs to refute resolutions that were contrary to Canada’s national interests. In its report to the Cabinet War Committee, the Department of External Affairs went out of its way to be positive about this first Council meeting in Atlantic City: ‘The difficulties were approached in an encouraging spirit of co-operation and with a minimum of emphasis on

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prestige. There was no attempt at domination by the large powers or obstruction on the part of the small. Consequently, in all cases it was possible to find satisfactory and workable solutions.’16 The functional principle had provided a protective mantle for Canada’s position as a major supplier nation while strengthening the voice of the representative bodies in the organization: it was ‘found to be a highly appropriate criterion and received widespread support. Consequently, in the final decisions of the Council, the role of the representative bodies of the Administration in the formation of policy was firmly established.’17 At the request of the smaller powers, the original version of the Agreement, which had concentrated policy making in the Central Committee, was amended to make that committee an agency of the Council. The limited purpose of UNRRA was also reiterated. ‘The scope of relief and rehabilitation is to be narrow. The purpose is to meet an emergency and to provide the food and supplies which are essential to prevent starvation and disease ... The resources of the Administration are not to be used for long-term reconstruction.’18 The crafters of the report knew their Ottawa audience; Canada’s influence had been maximized and its financial commitments limited. Yet Claxton was careful not to overstate the importance of the Canadian delegation’s contribution; ‘these are not world-shaking contributions but they do show activity which was not without its usefulness. No one must exaggerate our importance, but no Canadians should fail to recognize our opportunities.’19 How important were the concessions gained by the smaller powers at Atlantic City? Claxton was not alone in detecting a trend towards democratization which would permit an enlarged role for the representative organs of UNRRA and also for the smaller countries through these committees. Philip C. Jessup, a renowned expert on international law, commenting upon this meeting, wrote that ‘it now seems likely that the real discussions will take place in the Committee on Supplies, the Committee on Financial Control and the Committee of the Council for Europe and the Far East.’20 Jessup also clearly saw that, while smaller powers could aspire to exert a greater influence within an international organization like UNRRA, their influence would never be sufficient to ensure their own immunity or that of the organization from the ramifications of power politics. The Canadian delegates realized this, too, and their actions at Atlantic City demonstrated their ability to navigate these new international waters effectively. As another commentator observed, once the United States had made sure that the director general would be an

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American, it was prepared ‘to go most of the way in meeting the demands of the smaller powers for “democratization” of the structure.’21 The United States could afford to be flexible when it had a virtual monopoly over funding and supplies along with the control exercised through the director general. Equally important, the Combined Boards, controlled by the United States and Britain, remained the ultimate allocating authority. The net result of the procurement arrangements was that the receiving countries felt that their interests were inadequately protected. This resentment would continue to fester deep within UNRRA and poison the receiving countries’ future relations with the supplier nations. Pearson’s brokerage role between member governments in the Committee on Supplies would not be easy. Taking his lead from the Americans, Pearson lobbied to ensure that the correct Canadians received key staff positions within the Bureau of Supply at UNRRA’s Washington and London headquarters. Advance information from carefully ensconced Canadians would be the key to managing difficult and complex controversies over the procurement and distribution of supplies for UNRRA before they reached the Committee on Supply. In establishing its post-war position on the international stage, Canada in particular had to debunk lingering stereotypes of a unified imperial voice. Hume Wrong warned that the Canadian delegation could not to appear to be too closely associated with the British, for fear that the Americans would again raise the old objection that all parts of the Commonwealth acted and thought in unison. His warning was well founded. In February 1944 Pearson reported to the prime minister that the U.S. senators who opposed the resolution enabling the United States to participate in the work of UNRRA objected to the United States having only one vote. ‘This complaint about the United States having only one vote was related, in the speech of one of the Senators, to the fact that nations of the British Commonwealth will have more than one vote. I think this pre-occupation of Senators with the voting power of the United States is of special interest to Canada.’22 Canada’s desire to establish its position as a small great power, however, left it vulnerable to the charge that it was less sensitive to the needs of other small powers than it should have been. While the Canadian delegation believed that its actions were objectively intended to create an effective organization, some of the other delegations argued that Canada could have done more to protect the rights of smaller nations. Allan G.B. Fisher of the Australian delegation contended that there was little evidence from the deliberations at Atlantic City of Canada’s self-

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proclaimed role as the leader of the small powers. To a ‘philosophical and detached observer’ at Atlantic City, as Fisher described himself, the most intriguing part of the experience had been the opportunity to watch ‘a country preening its wings before the world in preparation for its first flight as a near Great Power.’ And while the behaviour of the Canadian delegation was for the most part ‘dignified and effective,’ its attention was apparently ‘so fully occupied by the immediate necessity for establishing its new-found position that there was little time on this occasion for working.’23 Whether or not preening had occupied more Canadian time than the less public diplomacy on behalf of smaller powers, this comment suggests a marked difference between the assessment of their performance by Canadian diplomats and that of diplomats from some other parts of the Commonwealth, although a long-standing rivalry between Australia and Canada helped to give an edge to Fisher’s criticism. On the whole, the ideas and solutions put forward by the Canadian delegation, while modest in nature and never totally disinterested, were timely and useful. In his political memoirs, written long after the events of 1943, Pearson recalled one of the lessons he had learned at Atlantic City. On the last night of the meeting, he had attended a lavish dinner party given by the Soviet delegation – an occasion that required ‘stamina and stability beyond the call of duty.’ In a jovial mood, Pearson returned to his hotel room. Two thoughts ran through his mind: peace, ‘which we must have toasted to half a dozen times that night,’ and the instructions to leave his luggage in the corridor no later than 2:00 a.m. to be collected in advance for the special train that would carry the delegates back to Washington the next day. The following morning, Pearson discovered to his horror that ‘I had packed so thoroughly that I had nothing left to wear but pyjamas! It was a desperate situation, but my baggage was retrieved and the train was delayed not more than five minutes. This proved to be a lesson to me, but of what, I am not sure.’24 Despite the unceremonious aspects of Pearson’s departure, he had distinguished himself in the eyes of his fellow delegates. Norman Robertson wrote to Leighton McCarthy, then Pearson’s superior as the Canadian minister in Washington, that the Belgian foreign minister ‘is a stout addition to the chorus praising Mike’s work at Atlantic City.’25 The committees and subcommittees worked efficiently and made considerable progress in setting up the administrative structure and in laying down the general policy guidelines for UNRRA.26 Perhaps the most important achievement of the first Council session was the clarifi-

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cation of what UNRRA would actually do through an official definition of the new organization’s scope. The definition covered the areas in which UNRRA would operate, the types of work it would carry out, and its relationship with already existing bodies and with both national and military authorities. Putting a human face on all of this would be the challenge for those working in the field. Montreal The achievements of the Canadian delegation at the first Council meeting at Atlantic City and Canada’s growing role in UNRRA prompted Canadian diplomats in Washington to suggest that the second Council meeting be convened in Montreal on 16 September 1944. Assured that ‘all that would be required would be the goodwill of the Canadian Government, their good offices in securing a suitable hotel, and the appointment of a few persons who might act in a liaison capacity to ensure that there were adequate facilities available,’ Ottawa readily accepted.27 But Pearson, who was given the delicate task of presiding at the second Council meeting, knew that much more than logistical support would be required to settle several controversial issues crucial for UNRRA’s future. The head of the British delegation, Richard Kidston, recalled the mood of ‘a growing restiveness among the member nations,’ triggered by the mounting public ‘doubt of UNRRA’s capacity and intentions.’ Many delegates, he contended, believed not only that the second meeting of the Council ‘might well dictate the fate of UNRRA’ but also that its failure could jeopardize ‘the whole field of cooperation between nations.’ What he found most disturbing was not that anyone wished UNRRA to fail but that ‘there was a regrettable tendency to accept the possibility of defeat.’28 Writing about the meeting after it had concluded, Pearson put some of the initial doubts into a broader perspective. He stated that ‘although UNRRA’s pace in the acceleration of the war tempo at times must have seemed painfully slow, the general objectives and the will to accomplish them were never lost in the critical period necessary to the building of an international structure and the formation of its plans.’ Pearson went on to sum up the tasks confronting the member countries at the Montreal meeting: ‘It met to translate plans into actions, for it realized that quick and vigorous support was needed in order to convince a somewhat sceptical public of its intent of backing up words with deeds.’29

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The second Council session was a transitional one, held before UNRRA could be evaluated on its actual performance in the field within liberated areas. As such, the Montreal meeting was supposed to limit its discussions to reviewing its previous work and determining to what extent the initial policies needed modification. Going into the Montreal meeting, Pearson had been alerted that the British and American delegations preferred to avoid a frank appraisal of UNRRA’s faltering efforts to date to mobilize its field personnel or any discussion of other problems that might spark controversy. Yet, despite the prevailing uncertainty that surrounded the opening of the Montreal conference, there were some issues that Pearson believed could not be avoided, including aid to ex-enemy territories and UNRRA’s financial limitations. Pearson could ‘hardly imagine anything better calculated to arouse suspicion and uneasiness’ among the receiving countries ‘than reticence and evasion concerning the extent of UNRRA’s resources.’30 He was fully aware that the organization could founder if these suspicions were allowed to grow. It was his unenviable job to see that such thorny questions were aired without developing into the type of open disputes that made sensational headlines but seldom led to agreement. Extending aid to ex-enemy countries, especially in the case of Italy, had clearly visible domestic political repercussions for the United States given its large Italian immigrant population. Pearson knew only too well that U.S. support for UNRRA was contingent on continued domestic political approval. He also knew that, without American financial support, UNRRA could not survive. American actions at this Council session were an early warning that Congress and the American public would carefully scrutinize UNRRA’s distribution of relief in the field, and Pearson worked quietly to accommodate these realities. Pearson also had the politically sensitive job of leading the conference to realistic solutions without casting a shadow over his prime minister’s public appearances at the conference. The Montreal meeting gave King an opportunity to address the delegates, but his fragile selfesteem made the preparation of his speech a difficult process. Anxious to make a strong impression in his welcoming address, he was annoyed by the inadequacy of the draft prepared for him: ‘What I got was a lot of dry bones and I have had to breathe life and soul into them.’ Fortunately, by the time he arrived at the Windsor Hotel in Montreal, where the meeting was held, his initial nervousness vanished upon the discovery that ‘the people were waiting to see their own P.M. instead of someone from either Britain or the U.S.’ In his speech, he praised

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mutual aid as ‘the guiding principle of international relationships,’ but, fearing that the delivery of his set speech was lacking somehow, a recurrent problem for him, he resorted to a ‘more telling’ impromptu address that was more to his satisfaction. ‘I was able to make the most significant point of all which was [that] ... relief and rehabilitation was not by way of charity but by way of paying a debt to the nations which had resisted in a manner which had helped to maintain our freedom and liberty.’ Though King’s speech made much of the phrase ‘mutual aid law,’ the prime minister was certainly not unreservedly committing himself or his government to a new Canadian internationalism. He wanted to ‘say the right word to the representatives’ and in this case his rhetoric was at least as important, if not more so, than the content.31 His enthusiasm for extending international aid had been temporarily buoyed by the many tributes paid to Canada during the opening sessions, but his commitment to the idea was not as strong as his speech suggested. After his opening address, King hosted a reception for the delegates. Since no other Allied leaders were present to compete for the limelight, he had it all to himself, just the right prescription for any doubts he may have felt. For Mackenzie King, domestic politics always imposed a cautionary restraint upon possible foreign-policy commitments, especially with an election pending. In the discussion that followed the director general’s report, ‘the member governments [had shown] perhaps an unreasonable impatience with the slight achievements of the Administration during its formative period.’32 But, by the close of the conference, the mood of the delegates had changed. Pearson spoke last as chair, summing up what he now saw as the desire of the Council for ‘a vigorous, practical administration and behind it the full, steady, and understanding support of every government representative.’33 UNRRA could succeed, he warned, only if it received ‘the full moral and political support it is entitled to receive. If governments base their relationship to UNRRA on narrowly national considerations, there will be no such support. The danger is not that any governments will oppose UNRRA. That will not happen. The danger is in indifference, doubts, suspicions, prejudices. These are the booby traps that may block UNRRA’s advance.’34 Pearson went further in his rhetoric when, after the conference had ended, he wrote that in its proceedings ‘the principles of right international conduct superseded national interests.’ Especially for the smaller nations, it had been a positive meeting. ‘They stressed the conviction that in practical experience UNRRA could gain what no imperfect blue-

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print could define.’ He was convinced now that UNRRA could ‘play its part in leading ravaged humanity out of the swamps and wastelands of post-war desolation.’35 Even long after, writing in his Memoirs, Pearson remembered the Montreal session as a ‘useful and constructive’ meeting.36 Since ‘there were no questions before the Council in which Canada had a vital interest,’ the goal of the Canadian delegation was to ensure that the meeting succeeded and ‘that reasonable solutions be found to the problems before the Council.’37 Judged by this objective, the Canadian delegation’s performance at the Montreal Council meeting must be accounted a success. Pearson himself deserved a lot of the credit for the positive outcome of the conference. One of his associates in the Department of External Affairs, H.F. Angus, who was in constant contact with relief questions between Council sessions, considered that the Montreal meeting ‘was a great personal triumph for Mr. Pearson. He not only made an excellent Chairman, both of the Council and of the Policy Committee of the Council, but he was able to do a great deal behind the scenes to smooth out difficulties which might have been serious if they had been dealt with by general discussions. Mr. Pearson was also particularly tactful and efficient in dealing with the press.’ 38 This was high praise from a man who, said Norman Robertson when relaying Angus’s comments to the prime minister, was ‘not given to indiscriminate appreciation of anybody’s efforts.’ Robertson added in his covering letter that Angus’s appraisal had been confirmed in many other quarters.39 Though he praised him initially, Mackenzie King clearly begrudged Pearson’s growing celebrity status. After he learned that Pearson had been invited to accompany Director General Lehman on a trip to the Soviet Union, King confided to his diary that Pearson had received far too much credit for his efforts on UNRRA’s behalf. He ‘did not like the idea of a Canadian going under the wing of an American on a world mission of that kind, especially where he, Pearson, had the responsibilities which he has and will have further in Washington [as minister].’ Despite Pearson’s assurances that ‘he thought his real work was in Washington and that UNRRA was a sideshow,’ King felt compelled to tell Pearson that he ‘doubted the wisdom of bringing too prominently to the fore the part we were playing in UNRRA, and indeed in many things which involved the expenditure of public money. That I thought there would be a strong feeling in Canada, immediately [after] the war was over in Europe, for confining our expenditures to our own country.

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People could not understand the free gifts to Greece and other countries ... We must cut down on these things.’40 This diary entry makes it plain that, at the very top levels of government, Canada’s commitment to UNRRA was not as deep as either the prime minister’s public rhetoric or Pearson’s personal involvement suggested. For Pearson, UNRRA was a ‘sideshow’ to his other work in Washington, and, for the prime minister, thinking about a forthcoming election, his inherent caution about spending money and committing Canada abroad were now once again dominating his thinking. King’s address to the conference notwithstanding, his diary is a more certain guide to his attitude towards UNRRA. Canada’s prime minister continued to view international relations through the prism of domestic politics. Indeed, in his waning years, he was becoming more not less cautious about foreign involvement, especially where Canadian funds were concerned. It was not at all unreasonable for Pearson to conclude that his prime minister did not share his commitment to making international cooperation under the aegis of the United Nations and its agencies a cornerstone of post-war Canadian foreign policy. Pearson’s reassurance to Mackenzie King that UNRRA was a ‘sideshow’ was a shrewd response that played to the prime minister’s much narrower view of Canadian foreign policy, but it was also an honest assessment of how Pearson viewed his own future career path. For Canada, the importance of hosting the Montreal Council extended beyond the formal meetings and resolutions. It offered a unique opportunity for Canadian procurement officials to hold informal sessions with their UNRRA counterparts to work out the advance procurement of supplies in Canada. Lavishly entertained at gala dinners and boat trips, UNRRA officials were effectively lobbied as future contracts were secured for Canada. Naturally, the Canadian hosts believed that the contacts they established in Montreal would pay lucrative dividends for Canada.41 They were correct. UNRRA’s expenditures in Canada defrayed considerably the costs of Canada’s participation in the organization, something the prime minister did not mention in his diary. London By the time the Council next assembled in London, England, in August 1945, the international situation had fundamentally changed, with still more dramatic events that would complicate UNRRA’s future work

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pending on the horizon. The end of the war with Germany the previous May had made it possible to estimate more accurately the sheer size of the immediate relief and rehabilitation requirements of the European liberated nations. Representatives met in an atmosphere of increasing gloom as the realization set in that, whatever UNRRA did, many people were going to perish from hunger and cold in Europe in the coming winter. Furthermore, with the conclusion of European hostilities, the United States had turned its full attention to the war in the Pacific. On the clear morning of 6 August, the first atomic bomb, nicknamed ‘Little Boy,’ was dropped on Hiroshima. Three days later, a second bomb, ‘Fat Man,’ fell on Nagasaki. The age of atomic diplomacy intensified the prevailing suspicion and fear within the international community and coloured the Great Powers’ view of UNRRA’s activities. The liberation of Asia on 14 August 1945 completed the roster of areas requiring relief, but the unexpected magnitude of the task there too was now becoming more apparent daily. The third conference also coincided with the accession to power of a new Labour government in Britain. All these developments once again raised the fundamental question: Would UNRRA find the political will and financial resources to fulfil its mission? Many member governments viewed UNRRA’s performance to date with scepticism and disappointment as the London conference convened. This mood was reinforced by the report from Director General Lehman that the funds voted in Atlantic City two years earlier were insufficient to meet the minimum requirements of the countries requesting UNRRA’s assistance. A total of at least $1.5 million would be required in addition to the demands of the Soviets, who were calling for $700 million over a twelve-month period for their own relief needs. It had become increasingly clear that ‘a task far greater than that tentatively provided for in the Director General’s program of operations had to be faced, especially in the Far East.’ It also was becoming obvious that UNRRA would have to tailor its programs to match available funds as the demand for relief goods continued to grow. Financial difficulties were not the only problem UNRRA was attempting to sort out. The Administration had not received the support from member governments in providing the supplies and services that Lehman felt was merited, with the result that procurement was not functioning smoothly. Lehman adopted a somewhat defensive attitude because of what he termed ‘uninformed criticism’ in the press during the months previous to the London meeting. He spoke ‘openly of recent

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disappointments when UNRRA’s modest requests to supply authorities had not been granted and commitments seemingly firm had disappeared when the moment for delivery had arrived.’ While Lehman chided the member governments that in such instances ‘it would be better to have no pledge of support,’ those in the field struggled with the procurement bottlenecks as UNRRA’s work was launched.42 Pearson adopted a different approach in his address to the Council session. Citing President Harry Truman, he warned that ‘as the winter comes on the distress will be increased. Unless we do what we can do to help, we may lose next winter what we won at terrible cost last spring.’ Pearson took up the director general’s challenge and left no doubt where Canada stood. ‘We must help to the very limits of our strength, and we will! Speaking for my own country – Canada – may I repeat those words? We must help to the very limit of our strength, and we will.’ Pearson’s comments reflected his continued belief ‘that peace is more than the absence of war and that peace cannot exist if there is distress, hunger and despair anywhere.’43 Pearson intended his response to be conciliatory, in keeping with his beliefs, and he went out of his way to recognize the special procurement problems of both the receiving and the supplying countries. He was also careful to acknowledge the difficult financial positions of both Britain and the Soviet Union. As the session proceeded, it became evident that, without further contributions by member countries, all relief would have to be terminated by the end of 1945. Only after protracted negotiations was an agreement reached that each country would contribute a second grant amounting to an additional 1 per cent of the national income in the preceding year, in effect doubling each country’s contribution to UNRRA. The Soviet Union had obstructed the progress of the resolution until it received some assurance that its request as an invaded country for a $700–million relief program would be met. The final draft version, a product of close collaboration among Britain, the United States, and Canada, was designed to satisfy the Soviet Union by recommending that ‘in carrying out the programs of operations of the Director General, as approved from time to time by the Central Committee of the Council, supplies shall be equitably distributed on the basis of the principles laid down in the Resolutions of the Council.’44 The Soviet Union was convinced to withdraw its request for $700 million only after a private understanding promising financial assistance outside UNRRA was reached through a series of confidential meetings which included delegates from the United States, Britain, and Canada. To mollify the

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Soviet Union, the United States in effect promised special aid amounting to $250 million for the Ukrainian and Byelorussian republics. Although the amended financial resolution passed, it did not guarantee that UNRRA would automatically receive the financial backing it required. In Pearson’s estimation, the United States, Britain, and Canada were the only three countries ‘which gave the meeting grounds for expecting a contribution in the full amount of 1% of their national incomes.’45 Even Canada’s contribution was conditional on the receipt of contributions from the United States and Britain and on dealing with the complicated relief situation in Italy. Initially, the Atlantic City meeting had limited UNRRA relief operations in ex-enemy territories to those absolutely required to provide assistance to United Nations displaced persons and to prevent epidemics affecting United Nations nationals. This had been modified at the Montreal meeting by a resolution to provide a supplementary relief program to Italy as long it did not cost more than $50 million. Italy was now placed on the same basis as the non-Axis powers. Strong opposition was expressed by other delegates that any further extension of aid to Italy would diminish the amount of aid available to more deserving countries whose plight was directly attributable to Italy’s military actions, or prejudice future reparation claims against Italy.46 The American delegate countered, threatening that ‘Congress was not likely to vote any money at all unless relief in Italy were to be included.’47 UNRRA’s policy decisions were clearly taking on increasing political overtones. The strong Italian vote in the United States was an important consideration for American policy makers, and, in addition, many Americans believed that aid to Italy was necessary to protect it from the seduction of communism and keep it out of the Soviet orb of influence. The Canadian government could not afford to sit on the sidelines, since the proposal regarding Italy had important financial repercussions for its overall financial commitments for relief. The United States delegate, Assistant Secretary of State W.L. Clayton, announced that relief for Italy, from the end of August 1945 until UNRRA assumed responsibility at the end of the year, would be covered by an appropriation from the United States Congress of $100 million. He also expressed the hope that both Britain and Canada would continue to share the additional financial burden of civilian aid for Italy during the period of military occupation, which amounted to an increase in the total amount of aid the Canadian government had anticipated it would have to provide. This financial question, as earlier ones had been, was

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settled later through bilateral negotiations. Canada’s willingness to assist the United States was based on the need to maintain ‘the appearance of a joint agreement’ in order to help the Americans to get the necessary money voted by Congress.48 The growing gulf between East and West became clearly visible during the discussions surrounding the treatment of the increasing number of displaced persons who refused to return home. The resolution proposed by the director general, calling for UNRRA to extend relief to all displaced persons even if they were unwilling to return to their country of origin, provoked the most acrimonious debate at the London session. Soviet opposition, backed by Yugoslavia, Poland, and Czechoslovakia, on this question was intransigent. Canada supported the United States and Britain, both of whom insisted that UNRRA should not be used as a political instrument to coerce refugees to return to their native lands against their will. The final compromise resolution, which Canada supported, provided that UNRRA could extend relief to refugees without the prior consent of their respective national governments but that every effort should be made to encourage repatriation. The compromise, however, really amounted to a reprieve until the next Council meeting.49 The decision taken at this Council session on the issue of displaced persons never produced a clear direction on how that policy was to be applied in the field. The result was greater leeway for individual interpretation, which in turn led to a considerable degree of confrontation throughout the displaced-persons operations in Europe. Because the Canadian delegates had political ambitions of their own, they were also vulnerable to pressure tactics. Often, they found themselves in the uncomfortable position of trying to mediate between the Russians and the British and Americans. Canada’s stake in forging a financial resolution acceptable to the Soviets was one of these instances and more was involved than superficially appeared to be the case. The Canadian delegation struggled to maintain its reputation as an objective mediator in the face of the Soviet delegation’s high-pressure bargaining tactics over the issue of expanding the membership of UNRRA’s Central Committee. Pearson reported that the Russians had stalled the passage of the resolution providing for the inclusion of Canada on the Central Committee, ‘in the hope that this will influence our attitude towards their other proposals.’ His response was to let the Russians know ‘that they have no bargaining power here because we would not object if [the] Central Committee were left unchanged.’50 The original resolution sponsored by the United States had proposed

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to add France alone to the Central Committee. France had recently been elevated to the position of a major power at the founding conference of the United Nations in San Francisco. The Canadian delegates opposed the exclusion of Canada on the grounds that the addition merely of France would weight the Central Committee too heavily in favour of the receiving countries and failed to recognize Canada’s position as the third-largest contributor nation. Well before the meeting began, Pearson had lobbied the Americans to add Canada, but even then Dean Acheson feared the admission of Canada to the Central Committee might open the door to a flood of demands by the Latin Americans for membership. Ultimately, the amended resolution calling for the inclusion of Canada was seconded by the Russian delegation, a small triumph for Canadian diplomacy. The controversy surrounding the composition of the Central Committee of UNRRA, however, soon reignited when the Soviet delegate, without any advance warning, effectively vetoed an Australian resolution to expand the membership to nine countries, including Australia. The Australian delegate, Stanley Bruce, was outraged at the insult to his country; ‘his words and his flushed face revealed his anger and he went considerably further than the situation demanded,’ according to one of the Canadian observers.51 In an effort to diffuse the devastating tension provoked by the Soviet tactics, Pearson suggested that Canada resign as chair of the Committee on Supplies in favour of Australia. This did not happen nor did Australia obtain a seat on the more powerful Central Committee, a sore point with the Australian delegation. For the first year and a half of UNRRA’s existence, the Central Committee had played a relatively inconsequential role but this changed once it became apparent that a second financial contribution would be required. The Americans demanded that a more effective system of control over allocations of UNRRA resources be put in place as a prerequisite for making their second contribution, and, to this end, the committee’s authority was extended to approve the director general’s actual allocation of funds to specific countries. Canada’s appointment to the Central Committee was thus a significant achievement and is attributable to the persistence and diplomatic skill with which the Canadian delegation pressed Canada’s claim as the third-largest supplier nation with the Great Powers. The Canadian delegation found the discussions at the London conference ‘long and exhausting.’ But Pearson stressed the conference’s achievements to his chief at the Department of External Affairs, Nor-

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man Robertson: ‘The final results appear likely to give general satisfaction and make it possible for UNRRA to complete, if somewhat on a modest scale, the task which it has undertaken.’52 Pearson recognized that UNRRA might not have been the perfect machine, but pragmatism dictated working for its improvement, not its abandonment. Still, the experience of the Canadian delegation in being bypassed when the expansion of the Central Committee was originally contemplated illustrated that Canada’s particular needs would not always be understood in Washington, much less accepted. Canada’s ability to foster an international approach to aid in the future would depend not on Washington’s inherent recognition of Canada’s status but on the vigilance and skill of its diplomatic representatives in the face of continued American domestic criticism of UNRRA’s activities. If the Canadian and American approaches towards international aid diverged, the Canadian position would have to be championed even more vigorously in Washington, without any assurance that these diplomatic efforts would not be outstripped by international events largely beyond Canada’s control. For Pearson, the work of the Council session was not yet over, since the struggle between the Central Committee and the Committee on Supplies continued even after the London meeting ended. Indeed, chairing the Committee on Supplies would continue to present Pearson with many administrative headaches until his resignation on 3 October 1946. Although the Committee on Supplies never exerted significant influence over policy development, Pearson’s appointment as chair provided a useful window into UNRRA’s operations. From the time of the London session until his resignation, Pearson proved a master at working out compromises that allowed the receiving countries to blow off steam without drastically altering the Central Committee’s newly expanded authority over the allocation of supplies to individual countries.53 The intricate knowledge of the supply situation that he had gained through the committee’s work and his repeated ability to strike workable compromises earned him the growing admiration of fellow Council delegates and UNRRA administrators alike. One indication of the high standing in which he was held came nearly a year after the London meeting in a letter from a British government representative on the UNRRA Far East Committee in Nanking, Eleanor Hinder, to the Canadian ambassador in China, Victor Odlum. Hinder requested that a Canadian representative be appointed to her committee and justified her request by pointing out the important role Canadians had played in UNRRA. ‘I have been witness to the very splendid

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contribution which Canada has made in the meetings of the UNRRA Council, particularly at the meeting of the Council held in London last year when Mr. Pearson was at his best.’54 Pearson’s mediating skills as well as his detailed knowledge of UNRRA’s operations and his textdrafting talent would be called upon at future Council sessions. Yet, though Pearson had achieved personal diplomatic success and a second contribution had been agreed upon by the member governments, the underlying schism between the United States and the Soviet Union, as manifested in the repatriation issue, foreshadowed the growing criticism and allegations of abuse and inefficiency that would be hurled against the Administration. Since most of UNRRA’s clients were the Eastern Europe countries that were becoming more closely integrated into the Russian sphere of influence, its distribution of supplies and rehabilitation activities would come under the increasingly close scrutiny of the American press and Congress. Atlantic City II Discussion at the second Atlantic City conference and the following one in Geneva were overshadowed by the knowledge that UNRRA would end and the uncertainty of what would take its place. By the spring of 1946, the end of UNRRA was already being contemplated, even though the organization’s refugee and rehabilitation work remained incomplete and the prerequisites for its successful completion were uncertain. The second Atlantic City conference, which convened in March 1946, was in many respects a pivotal one. Over seven million tons of supplies had already been shipped, an appreciable contribution to the restoration of Europe, and similar work had begun in the Far East.55 Together, the delegates at the opening of the 4th UNRRA Council session confronted two major questions: the imminent threat of famine in the countries receiving UNRRA aid, and the care of those displaced persons who refused to be repatriated. An additional unpredictable ingredient in the political manoeuvring within UNRRA occurred when Herbert Lehman resigned at the opening session held on Friday, 13 March 1946, citing failing health. At the final session in Atlantic City, the Council went through the ceremonial ritual of appointing Fiorello La Guardia, the former mayor of New York, the second director general. In reality, La Guardia had been somewhat unceremoniously thrust upon the Council without prior consultation. Many Council members believed that the process followed contravened

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the informal understanding reached with Assistant Secretary of State W.L. Clayton, who had replaced Dean Acheson as the American delegate. The implied agreement provided that the new director general would be an American, on the condition that President Truman would submit a list of three candidates for the Council’s consideration. Nevertheless, the delegates agreed to keep secret the circumstances surrounding La Guardia’s nomination. Pearson explained to Prime Minister King that the affair had caused great embarrassment for both Clayton and especially Lehman, who felt ‘that La Guardia would not make a suitable successor.’56 Pearson himself had no doubts that La Guardia ‘would introduce dynamic energy into the administration and will dramatize its problems and requirements in an effective manner.’ Yet he never substantially modified his initial reservations about La Guardia’s leadership or his open admiration of his predecessor. In his memoirs Pearson extolled Lehman: ‘I have not met an American [Lehman] of finer quality ... While Mr. Lehman had been quiet, gentlemanly and conservative, Mr. LaGuardia was excitable, domineering, unpredictable and explosive. He had almost frantic energy, and in his determination to get things done did not care much about whose feelings were hurt in the process. It was impossible to ignore him, to stop him, or to reject him. He revelled in giving shock treatment, which, at times, no doubt, the organization needed.’57 At the time of La Guardia’s appointment, Pearson hoped that his methods would ‘not disturb too much the existing administration machine. It is now too late to scrap or change that machine and it would only cause trouble if it were unnecessarily unsettled.’58 Unfortunately, the change of leadership would disturb the organization. The modification of policy direction, in favour of repatriation over rehabilitation, under La Guardia’s leadership would have profound consequences for the UNRRAIDS carrying out UNRRA’s welfare work in the field. Although Lehman’s valedictory address to the Council session focused on the gravity of the food crisis facing Europe and the severity of the displaced-persons problem, other issues, with clear political implications for UNRRA’s future, proved equally contentious. One concerned the rights of occupying military authorities. The Americans were critical of the Soviet Union’s policy on requisitioning land in Austria to produce food for its occupying forces. The Soviets, in return, vigorously challenged UNRRA’s jurisdiction over this question. It took Pearson’s timely intervention at the Council to avert a potential showdown between the two superpowers.

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The original American resolution recommended that all member governments maintaining military forces in countries receiving UNRRA’s assistance should refrain from consuming foodstuffs produced in those territories and from requisitioning land for that purpose. Pearson was disturbed not by the principle of the resolution but rather by the expectation that UNRRA would have to police the activities of the military authorities to determine if and when this recommendation had been disregarded. His reservations were well founded. UNRRA was not equipped to either supervise the conduct of the occupying armies or enforce compliance. The expectation that UNRRA should police the military authorities in this way might jeopardize the Administration’s credibility by compromising one of its founding principles – that food should not be used as a political weapon. An editorial in the New York Times had already charged that ‘the international politics of Southeastern Europe are becoming more and more a matter of food and how long the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration can maintain its aloofness from politics is accordingly doubtful.’ If UNRRA embroiled itself in this controversy, its apolitical stance would be impossible to preserve. Since most of UNRRA’s operations in Europe, outside Germany, were predominately in areas occupied by Soviet troops, it was becoming more unlikely that international food policy could be insulated from international politics. The Americans were growing increasingly worried about granting aid to dubious regimes in Eastern Europe at a time when they were already questioning the wisdom of cooperating with the Russians. Cold War suspicions were already in evidence. The Cleveland Plain Dealer probably expressed the mounting animosity of many Americans when it bluntly stated, ‘The American people who are footing most of the bill for UNRRA would like to know whether UNRRA wheat is being shipped to the Balkans when Russian supplies, which would at least partially supply this area, are being distributed elsewhere for Communist political purposes.’59 It was against this background of increasing hostility and suspicion that, on 20 March 1946, during the debate on the food crisis, Pearson warned: ‘Food was a mighty weapon of war. Food must be a mighty weapon of peace. But it must never become a weapon of international politics. If it does, it will break in the hand of those who would debase it to that use.’60 His words would return to haunt the member governments of UNRRA. In the short run, the mutual suspicions complicated UNRRA efforts to persuade its member governments to make the

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renewed sacrifices required by the food crisis in Europe in order to meet even the most basic needs. By the time the fourth Council session convened in Atlantic City in 1946, the threat of continued famine in war-ravaged countries of Europe and Asia was imminent. In part, the development of this crisis occurred as a result of an array of factors beyond UNRRA’s control. Shortage of fertilizers and manpower combined with drought in 1945 to produce poor crops in Australia, New Zealand, South America, the Mediterranean, and the Caribbean. Monsoons in India devastated harvests. An extremely serious food situation had developed in Japan and it was clear that Germany required substantial wheat imports. All of this meant that the world food situation had continued to deteriorate. UNRRA’s policy of not stockpiling goods for post-war relief had reduced still further the quantity of available food supplies.61 Pearson reported to his government that the discussions on food occupied more time than any other subject debated at the Council meeting. Not surprisingly, while the debate ‘was not conducted with the same acrimony that characterized certain parts of the discussions on displaced persons, it was not lacking vigour or strong feeling on occasion.’62 The keynote address on the food issue was a ‘forceful’ statement by La Guardia that contained a series of recommendations to deal with the food crisis, the most important being to maximize food production in both the supplying and receiving countries. After La Guardia’s speech, the representatives of the supplying countries each defended their governments’ food-conservation records. Already having warned Ottawa of his concern that ‘Canada as the land flowing with milk and honey will become the pawn in this conflict,’ Pearson was determined to set the record straight.63 When his turn came on 20 March, he argued that Canada had already taken steps to meet La Guardia’s recommendations. Pearson claimed that the Canadian government had urged Canadian farmers to raise their production levels for the next three or four years, even at the risk of Canada’s own economic peril; ‘it was for a country like Canada, which lives by foreign trade, the giving of a hostage to fortune.’ Despite evidence to the contrary, the haunting spectre of an international commodity market glutted with surpluses during the Depression years still lingered among Ottawa policy makers. Mackenzie King’s government had intensified its food-conservation program through an aggressive publicity campaign and would seek ‘to reduce inventories to the lowest levels, thus making more food available for shipment abroad.’ The Canadian gov-

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ernment had also reintroduced meat and butter rationing on an even more stringent basis than during the war. Pearson stated that Canada had ‘drawn fully on her agricultural resources in order to contribute to the world supply of cereals for human consumption.’64 Rationing to meet short term post-war requirements was Ottawa’s preferred alternative to expanding capacity that might not be required beyond the postwar relief period. That policy constrained future options. After the session, Pearson continued his public campaign to ensure that Canada was not blamed for the food crisis.65 UNRRA’s Council was unable to obtain satisfactory assurances that the needed increased supplies would be forthcoming and had to agree to reconvene in Washington after the new director general had further discussions with the supplying countries and the Combined Food Board. Clearly, more adequate international allocation machinery was required, and when the Council reconvened in May a more broadly based international organization, the International Emergency Food Council, replaced the Combined Food Board which had functioned through the war years. Had Canada done all it could to alleviate the food crisis? On this subject, Andrew Cairns, the maverick Canadian who ran UNRRA’s Food Division, had strong opinions. In a speech given at MacDonald College in Montreal after the conclusion of the Council meeting at Atlantic City, Cairns spread the blame widely for the food crisis: ‘UNRRA and its Missions, the Governments of the receiving countries and the international food allocating authorities must all accept the responsibility.’ He condemned the Czech and Polish governments, which had not provided UNRRA with accurate estimates of conditions until late in the day. Similarly, the military authorities responsible for civilians in Italy, Austria, and Japan had imported only a fraction of the grain requirements for those countries for the coming year. UNRRA, he charged, ‘should have taken the gloves off earlier in the battle for food and marshalled in 1945, as well as in 1946, world public opinion in favour of drastic emergency measures to increase food exports to the hunger stricken countries.’66 These were tough words for an UNRRA bureaucrat. Cairns was intent on feeding Europe and ignored traditional administrative policies and procedures when they got in his way. By temperament a fighter – ‘he fought the Combined Food Board, he fought the Council, and he fought the Administration’ – he ran the Food Division ‘practically as an autonomous body. Orderly procedures meant nothing to him.’ He proved ‘a consistent rebel against the Administration’s pro-

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gram of operations, since he considered that the whole UNRRA supply operation should have been predicated on the need for food. He was not an optimist on food matters; this brought him into friction with others who regarded the food needs of the UNRRA countries more philosophically than he did.’67 Cairns’s attitudes on the food question owed a great deal to his experience during the Great Depression and his vivid memories ‘of the pathetic struggles for a half-decent living of the New Brunswick farmers and the inexcusable waste of human resources during the depression on the Canadian prairies.’68 Cairns was both prepared and willing to take the gloves off at the Council discussion on food supplies. Yet Cairns believed that Canada’s contribution had made a tremendous difference. ‘When the severity of UNRRA’s needs became fully known, the response of Canada and the United States was magnificent and the gratitude of the receiving countries profound. When we explained in 1944, and again in 1945, to Canada that we could not get any meat or soup to speak of in the United States, or in Australia or in New Zealand, we got from Canada not only more than 200 million pounds of these but got them at prices we have been unable to match since ...When we were unable in recent months to get even one-half our wheat requirements, we appealed to Canada for wheat and oats – we got 10,000 tons per month of the former and over 8 million bushels of the latter.’69 The overall record and Cairns’s testimony stand as strong evidence of the impact Canadian food had in helping to relieve the world food crisis. Pearson had been justified in defending Canada’s comparative conservation and procurement record, though the government’s commitment to providing food relief continued to weigh economic advantages against any potential negative side effects. The other major controversial issue that the fourth Council dealt with was displaced persons. The debates became particularly bitter as accusations about collaborators and war criminals hiding within in UNRRA’s camps were hurled during the discussions on the obstacles to repatriation. While the authority of the Administration to supervise the care of displaced persons was extended, repatriation as the primary aim was reconfirmed. In a series of resolutions, the Central Committee set a new tone; it authorized strenuous measures to ‘bring about the removal of conditions which may interfere with the repatriation of displaced persons at the earliest possible moment’ and demanded a bimonthly report from the field directly to the Central Committee on the progress being made in light of the accelerated efforts. The impact

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of these resolutions is explored more fully in Part Two. Suffice to say here that life for the remaining refugees and working conditions for the staff in UNRRA’s displaced-persons operations, while never easy, were about to get more complicated in the field.70 Much had been achieved at Atlantic City, but Prime Minister King was not patting himself and his government on the back. In particular, he was increasingly disturbed by the ever growing demands placed upon Canada to provide further food relief. He recorded his anxiety in his diary entry for 11 April 1946, shortly after the conclusion of the Atlantic City conference: ‘As I pointed out to the Cabinet we could not begin to take on China, India, and all those countries, which heretofore we had not considered, as having little trade with them. We had hitherto voted special funds for famines etc. That was the only way we could deal with some of these countries. The truth is that this whole business of UNRRA has been so badly managed from the start. It looks as if [James] Gardiner [minister of agriculture] was right when he said that it might be much better if it some of the other boards were wound up instead of allowed to continue.’ King believed that Canada had done as much as could be expected for a country its size and that ‘instead of talking of saving [the] world, we have to begin to consider the situation in our own country with respect to wages, prices etc. more than we have been doing.’71 The prime minister’s sentiments were shared by many opinion makers in the United States. Pearson, not surprisingly, was more positive. He provided the most judicious summary of what had been accomplished at Atlantic City in a private letter to George Ferguson, the editor of the Winnipeg Free Press. ‘It was a good meeting in the sense that there was a sense of reality and a facing of facts about it; straight talk without abuse, and a realization that unless something effective is done soon by all Governments, not only will we be facing famine conditions in the next few weeks in Europe and the Far East, but conditions will not be much better next year. Certain people here and in Canada may say what they will about a short term emergency, but if the facts of the situation are as they were given to us at Atlantic City, the emergency is likely to be of a pretty long duration.’ Pearson was already concerned about the likely demise of UNRRA and what would take its place. ‘One thing is quite clear, however, that though UNRRA itself may come to an end soon, the needs which brought it into being will continue for a year or two more; possibly longer ... To let UNRRA disappear without having prepared plans and machinery to take over its unfinished work would be disastrous.’72

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Pearson enlisted Ferguson’s aid to publicize the continuing need for some agency to carry on UNRRA’s work in the event that the organization was wound up. All in all, the Canadian delegation as a whole had played a constructive role at this Atlantic City session of the Council. Pearson’s international stature in particular continued to grow, so much so that La Guardia pleaded with Mackenzie King to make sure that Pearson attended the next Council meeting. La Guardia described Pearson as ‘now the dean of the UNRRA delegates. He not only has a store of knowledge and information from the very beginning of UNRRA but is always most helpful in deliberations.’73 Yet ‘the benefit of [Pearson’s] helpful and sound advice, which La Guardia wanted to rely on, would be severely tested at the Council session that was to be held in Geneva later in the summer of 1946. Geneva The future of UNRRA was high on the agenda as the Geneva Council session opened on 5 August 1946. Upon arriving at Geneva, Pearson found the choice of locale, a city that had escaped all the horrors of war and where he had spent time in the 1930s as part of the Canadian delegation to the League of Nations, full of ironies. Later, he would recall in his Memoirs the eerie feeling of going back ‘to the Hotel de la Paix after ten years to be calmly greeted by the porter, “Nice to see you back, Mr. Pearson,” as if I had been there last week; and to be asked at the desk whether I would like to have my old room.’ The sense that nothing had changed defied the new political reality Pearson encountered in determining UNRRA’s future course: ‘In a world of chaos and change some things remained undisturbed; even the red plush curtains of my room and the black cherry conserve with the croissants for breakfast. Perhaps, however it was not the best atmosphere in which to discuss how to deal with the distress and devastation of Europe. I told La Guardia that we should have met in tents at Dachau or in the ruins of Warsaw.’74 By the summer of 1946, the international political atmosphere was not conducive to dealing with the economic distress of war-torn Europe. Pearson had earlier warned that ‘the inherent difficulties of this relief problem will be further complicated by the deterioration in international political relations. One of the already foreseeable results is a change in the motivation behind UNRRA, which in its early days was principally economic and humanitarian and only incidentally political.

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This position, I am afraid, will have been largely reversed by mid-summer if present international trends continue.’75 There were clear indications that the United States now wanted to exert greater political control over international relief by placing aid on a bilateral basis. Assistant Secretary of State Clayton testified before the U.S. House of Representatives Appropriations Committee early in June 1946, during the hearings for the second American contribution to UNRRA. He told the legislators that the period of ‘acute need’ for international aid was drawing to a close and that he was hopeful ‘that almost all of these countries will be in a position to finance their essential imports of food and other relief supplies.’76 In fact, even by late 1945, congressional opinion in the United States was running against UNRRA. Before the Geneva session opened, UNRRA came under constant American criticism because of the alleged abuses and corruption that riddled the distribution of supplies by receiving governments, primarily in Eastern Europe. One of the leading opponents was Everett M. Dirksen, a Republican from Illinois, who charged in the House of Representatives that food was being used as a weapon in Yugoslavia. When food was distributed on a ration-book basis, he said, ‘the people that belong to a favourite party – if you know what I mean – the people who embrace a certain ideological line, have a far better ration book than the rest of the people in the country.’77 Later, Clayton told Pearson that the best way to encourage UNRRA’s receiving countries to get back on their feet as quickly as possible ‘was to let them know now that no further international aid would be available.’ Any country still requiring assistance would receive it ‘on an ad hoc basis without setting up any new international organization.’78 Other Americans were thinking along the same lines. American legislators had come to believe that a lack of effective U.S. oversight within UNRRA meant that the aid simply went to the wrong people. This desire for more American control over UNRRA’s distribution activities within receiving countries lay behind a rider to a bill sponsored by Everett Dirksen. Dirksen’s rider provided that aid be withheld from any receiving country refusing to allow the American press uncensored liberty to report on the distribution of supplies within that country. The attack was really aimed at the Soviet Union for its refusal to allow the press to tour White Russia and the Ukraine to verify charges of mismanagement and abuses in the distribution of supplies. The discussion broadened to condemn the Soviet Union for its failure to cooperate with other nations generally. When Dirksen declared that

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‘the time for appeasement’ of Russia had ended, he was greeted with ‘loud applause from both sides of the House and the visitors’ galleries.’79 Democrats crowded to join their Republican colleagues to pass the Dirksen amendment by almost three to one. Though the Senate had dropped a similar amendment to the 1945 UNRRA appropriation bill seven months earlier, it now agreed to Dirksen’s rider, making only minor revisions in order to render the provisions less offensive to the receiving countries. The episode illustrated the mounting difficulty moderate voices experienced in restraining the growing anti-communist element within Congress, which equated multilateral aid to appeasement towards the Soviet Union. UNRRA simply got caught in the backlash. Canadian officials were alarmed by these developments in Washington. Canada opposed bilateral aid because it failed to differentiate between relief and export credits. This, as a Department of External Affairs memorandum expressed it, ‘would muddle the picture for long after with unpaid debts etc.’80 Moreover, despite the fact that UNRRA’s relief task remained incomplete, no financial provisions had been made for 1947. Neither did the international political environment augur well for further financial contributions to any multilateral relief agency. Informal discussions with the British and American delegates early in the Council session confirmed that the Americans had not moved an inch from their earlier position; they refused to accept any resolution which acknowledged that there would be relief needs in 1947 requiring UNRRA’s continuance or the establishment of any new relief agency on whatever basis. UNRRA was clearly coming to its end. The real issue remaining was what would take its place. Because the recipient countries wanted to place the responsibility for ending UNRRA upon the three main contributing countries, the United States, Britain, and Canada, Pearson once again found himself placed in the demanding position of trying to reconcile divergent viewpoints. ‘By emphasizing our recognition of responsibility for international relief, we went some distance to meet the European view, while meeting the American position in recommending that all we should do here would be to turn the whole problem over to the United Nations Assembly who could, if it saw fit, establish some agency with functions to be determined.’81 The final resolution placed the question of relief back into the hands of the United Nations General Assembly, which would review the relief needs for 1947 and recommend what financial assistance would be required.

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Pearson’s original plan at the Geneva meeting had been to restrict the Canadian delegation’s activities to supply and financial questions, carefully avoiding any entanglement in the vexing issues of displaced persons and the occupying army’s requisitioning of supplies. His strategy was a dismal failure. Instead, he was elected chairman of a subcommittee charged with the task of bridging the widely varying positions between those who championed self-determination and those who believed their nation had a right to force the return of its citizens. Three days of continuous meetings resulted in bringing the parties a little closer together without resolving the differences completely. While UNRRA Resolution 99 appeared to uphold the principle of self determination, as adopted by the General Assembly of the United Nations,82 its subsequent provisions implied a greater degree of compulsion. Included in the resolution were detailed suggestions to assist repatriation, including the removal of any employees, camp leaders, liaison officers, or voluntary-agency personnel who discouraged repatriation.83 Little thought was given to the ramifications of implementing the new regime in the field or to UNRRA’s ability to enforce compliance. The remainder of the Council’s deliberations was devoted to plans for the orderly liquidation of the UNRRA administration and the transfer of its welfare functions to competent international agencies. Although Director General La Guardia desired Pearson’s advice, he did not always follow it. Pearson provided a witty and revealing account of La Guardia’s behaviour during the Geneva session in his report to Norman Robertson. La Guardia, wrote Pearson, ‘has occupied the spotlight here and some of [his] antics have been pretty strange. He mixes good intentions and ideas, and the sensible expression of them with the wildest suggestions and the most extravagant language. But at all costs, he must secure the headlines – and of course, he does – easily. He expresses unbounded admiration for “brave little Canada” and its work for UNRRA and he flattered me here by asking my advice on this and that, without, often, bothering about remembering it. He is, in all, quite the most unusual specimen I have ever come in contact with in official life. I’ll know more about him in a week, however.’84 Pearson was to accompany La Guardia, immediately following the close of the Geneva Session, on an inspection tour of UNRRA’s operations in Germany, Poland, and the USSR. To travel with La Guardia, Pearson recounted later, ‘was to ride a whirlwind – physically and emotionally. There never was a dull or even a calm moment. It was a tour which I shall never forget, not merely because LaGuardia was the con-

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ducting officer but because of what we saw; the human and material wreckage of war, and the hopeful signs of rebirth and rebuilding.’85 For Pearson, the journey was a mosaic of emotion-filled encounters. Crowded refugee centres were overflowing with the victims of the Nazi concentration camps. The desolation of Warsaw and Wroclaw mixed uneasily with the hope of ‘farmers cultivating recent battlefields, often with dugouts as their temporary homes.’ An old woman told him poignantly of ‘her tragic story and also of her hope for a better future when war might be no more.’ In sharp contrast, he witnessed a Polish children’s parade which symbolized the resurgence of deep political schisms within Poland: Thirty or forty of them marched by, a pathetic little parade. It was also, for me at least, a frightening one ... They had been scrubbed and tidied. It was all very pleasant and normal. But they marched by in separate groups and each wore the coloured blouse or shirt of their parents’ political party: green for the peasants’ party, blue for the socialist, red for the communist. These were merely the symbols of that political and ideological division which had so much to do with the ruin of their own village and all other thousands of cities and towns and villages that once made up Europe. What did this mean for Poland’s future? We soon learned that it meant only one thing: only red shirts would be parading in the future.86

Pearson’s trip and his adventurous tour with La Guardia were cut short. He was recalled to Ottawa where he would shortly assume the new post of under-secretary of state for external affairs, the top civilservice position in Canadian diplomacy. Along with his experience as Canadian ambassador in Washington, he brought with him all the diplomatic skills he had fine-tuned during his service as Canada’s point man on UNRRA. He no doubt thought that his promotion would remove him from immediate involvement with UNRRA’s problems, but this was not to be. One of the first assignments that Pearson would handle in his new position was to advise the Canadian government on what it should do about post-UNRRA relief. At the end of the Geneva Council session, Canada had opposed the continuation of UNRRA but reaffirmed its commitment in the field of international relief cooperation, when the need was clearly demonstrated. No financial pledge was made, however, to any specific program for the completion of UNRRA’s work and much was left unresolved. The emerging Cold War rivalries further constrained the multi-

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lateral approach to international aid which UNRRA had exemplified, and necessitated winding up UNRRA even before the relief and rehabilitation problems of the post-war period had been resolved. For the UNRRA workers in the field, the Council’s decisions had a profoundly more human face – the displaced persons. UNRRA workers tried frantically to complete their relief and rehabilitation projects and calm the fears of the ‘hard core’ displaced persons whose future seemed even more uncertain than when they first sought refuge in UNRRA’s camps. And like Pearson, upon their return to Canada, former Canadian UNRRA workers could not abandon those who remained in the camps because they were unable or unwilling to return to their country of origin. Conclusion Each Canadian delegation had worked diligently at the various UNRRA Council sessions to represent Canadian national economic and security interests in the first post-war international organization. Their actions were designed both to strengthen Canada’s long-term influence in this and other emerging post-war multilateral organizations and, more immediately, to protect its financial interest as a principal supplier nation. For the most part, they did so in a responsible and constructive manner. They deftly navigated the official diplomatic channels to gain valuable information well in advance of the opening of Council sessions, and they drew upon their close personal relationships with people in the British and American delegations to discuss informally any controversial issues likely to arise at the next Council session or pave the way for compromise during the conferences. The Canadians repeatedly demonstrated their knowledge and adroitness as skilled diplomats. Equally, Canadian diplomacy at the Council sessions indicated that Canada’s close Anglo-American relationships, predicated upon historic economic and political ties and a shared community of fundamental values, were simultaneously a source of influence and a constraint on its diplomacy. While Canada often played the broker to mitigate East-West tensions or smoothed the ruffled relationships with the smaller powers, given the experience of the inter-war years, it could not afford to have the United States retreat into isolationism again. Similarly, in weighing Canada’s financial commitment, Canadian diplomats, like their political masters, kept their country’s historic long-term

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trading relationships and wartime commitments to Great Britain clearly on the horizon. Canadian diplomats could best be described as pragmatic nationalists who sought to further Canada’s national interests by taking a level-headed approach to Canadian participation in the nascent post-war international organization. There was little to suggest that Ottawa would abandon its well-established course in developing its post-UNRRA relief and refugee policies or in determining Canadian procurement priorities.

3 The Politics of Procurement

Canada’s contribution to UNRRA was impressive in many respects. Canadians demonstrated capable and constructive leadership within UNRRA’s Council, technical committees, and country missions abroad. But Canada’s participation was especially significant in the actual supply of funds, food, and material goods. Without Canada’s aid, it is hard to imagine how UNRRA would have fulfilled its mandate to provide extensive programs for health, agricultural, and industrial rehabilitation as a bridge from war to peacetime stability. The range of those supplies was staggering, encompassing food, clothing, medical supplies, sewing machines, locomotives, railroad cars, fishing trawlers, and nets. Canada’s procurement program, as we have seen, was the third-largest of any member state, behind only the United States and Britain. In 1944 its contribution of the equivalent of 1 per cent of its national income for the previous fiscal year amounted to $77 million, of which 10 per cent, or $7.7 million, was made available for purchases outside Canada. Canada made a second contribution of the same amount during the fiscal year 1945–6, for a total of $154 million. This was a level of foreign aid on a per-capita basis that Canada would never achieve again. In total, UNRRA spent some $254 million purchasing food and material supplies in Canada to send abroad, a striking indication of just how tied Canada’s aid to UNRRA really was. While Prime Minister King could take comfort from the fact that Canadians in general endorsed Canada’s participation in UNRRA, he was still wary of the possibility of a future adverse public reaction if its financial commitment was not carefully controlled. The minister of finance, J.L. Ilsley, reflected the government’s cautious approach to multilateral aid when he introduced the first UNRRA appropriation bill to

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the House of Commons in 1944. ‘We can look forward with hope and confidence to the role ... our contributions to UNRRA [will play] in relieving the human suffering which war has caused,’ Ilsley declared, ‘and in helping by constructive measures truly to secure a just and enduring peace.’1 Isley made it clear that that this was not a gift since the majority of Canada’s contributions to UNRRA would be in the form of goods. He further emphasized that 90 per cent of Canada’s contribution to UNRRA was tied aid which would be allocated to purchasing goods within Canada. Officially, Canada’s procurement relations with UNRRA were a huge success. A senior UNRRA official, Karl Borders, the deputy director of the Bureau of Supply, wrote that ‘the entire history of the relations between the Bureau of Supply and the Canadian governmental purchase agencies stands out in the minds of Bureau staff as a shining example of complete and happy cooperation.’2 George Woodbridge incorporated this glowing account into the official history of UNRRA despite his access both to UNRRA records and to interviews with key Canadian administrators which suggested that relations between the Canadian agencies and UNRRA were not always as laudatory as the official statements implied.3 Mechanics and Priorities The mechanics of the Canadian procurement procedure were worked out relatively easily in early May 1944 when the Canadian Mutual Aid Board was designated to consider all requests forwarded from UNRRA’s Washington procurement division. The Mutual Aid Board was essentially a clearing house, acting on the advice of an interdepartmental food-requirements committee which coordinated Canadian contributions for relief and rehabilitation, and was dependent on other government agencies to purchase and ship materials. Director General Lehman applauded these arrangements at the opening plenary session of the Montreal Council meeting in September 1944: ‘The Canadian Government, through its Mutual Aid Board and other agencies, was among the first to set up a simple, expeditious and efficient arrangement for the procurement of supplies’ which would serve as a model for working out similar arrangements with other supplying nations.4 One of the virtues of the Canadian system, which the UNRRA authorities hoped to duplicate within other countries, was that it appeared to be comparatively simple and direct.

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Canadian procurement functioned with considerably more friction under its successor agencies. In 1945 the Canadian Export Board, designed specifically to help recapture Canada’s overseas export market, took over both screening and procurement functions from the Mutual Aid Board. This board in turn gave way in 1946 to the Canadian Commercial Corporation (CCC), which dealt with both exports and imports. Behind the creation of these various boards lay an ongoing departmental rivalry between the Department of External Affairs and the departments of finance and trade and commerce for handling relief operations. Given their respective concerns for fiscal restraint, the departments of finance and trade and commerce acted as financial watchdogs over Canada’s activities in UNRRA. In particular, Donald Gordon, the chairman of the Wartime Prices and Trade Board, personified the more parochial perspective that characterized the Department of Trade and Commerce’s approach to UNRRA matters. He was anxious to put a ceiling on Canada’s international financial responsibilities to stave off the need for any increase in rationing. Eventually, however, rationing – especially of meat – had to be reimposed in order to cope with the external demands for relief goods. After UNRRA’s termination, Hume Wrong, Pearson’s successor as ambassador in Washington, was interviewed for the official UNRRA history. Wrong defended Canadian procurement policies as both justified and equitable: ‘Canada gave Britain and other long-standing customers priority on its supplies, but it did not put UNRRA last on its list ... UNRRA got its fair share of Canadian supplies. When Canada insisted on supplying its regular customers, even to the detriment of UNRRA, it did so because it knew these customers would have to go elsewhere for their supplies that they had long counted upon from Canada and, in the end, their demands would have the same effect on the overall supply as if they got them from Canada. Canada rationed its people at different times.’5 As Wrong acknowledged, the Liberal government strove to limit Canada’s total international financial liability to all types of post-war reconstruction while simultaneously maximizing the economic benefits to be gained from participating in UNRRA. Further, at the same time it was exploiting the possibility of securing a foothold in new European markets, the Canadian government sought to protect Canada’s normal channels of trade. These conflicting priorities were readily apparent in Canada’s bid to earmark wheat within Canada’s UNRRA procurement program and called into question Ottawa’s ability to reconcile its long-term goal of seeking a stable international

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economic order while capitalizing on shorter-term opportunities to export key products like wheat. The Canadian government’s desire to re-establish Canada’s traditional grain export markets even while meeting the obligation to supply food to Britain reflected the paramount importance of wheat exports to the Canadian economy. In this respect, Ottawa’s determination to stabilize post-war wheat exports must be understood against the haunting recollections of a world market glutted with surplus wheat during the Great Depression. The lingering fear that a return of ‘surpluses’ could again trigger renewed economic depression in part drove Oliver Master, the acting deputy minister of trade and commerce, to spearhead a campaign in the autumn of 1944 to earmark a specific percentage of UNRRA’s procurement for Canadian wheat. Master, however, was also an ardent advocate of the economic maxim, widely accepted at the time, that ‘trade follows aid.’6 His major concern was that, if all of the Canadian tied funds were used up, UNRRA could well designate the United States as its source of supply for wheat, leaving Canada without this opportunity to dispose of its wheat crop.7 Indeed, the Canadian government’s fight to earmark wheat purchases officially as part of the Canadian allocation to UNRRA becomes intelligible only in the context of its desire to utilize UNRRA supplies as an economic spearhead to secure future trade advantages. With the crucial support of Dr G.S.H. Barton, the deputy minister of agriculture, Master easily obtained the approval of the External Trade Advisory Committee, an interdepartmental committee charged with oversight on the broad questions of trade policy, for his proposal.8 Then the Department of External Affairs was asked to make an informal approach to UNRRA’s Washington headquarters through Lester Pearson’s embassy. While Pearson raised the matter informally with UNRRA bureaucrats on two occasions privately, he shared UNRRA officials’ view that ‘we have little worry on this score as a substantial amount of UNRRA wheat and flour will be required from Canada in any event ... With a Canadian Chairman [George McIvor] on the Cereals Committee we ought to be able to ensure that an appropriate amount of UNRRA wheat comes from Canada.’9 Here, again, Pearson’s views reflected his belief that strategically placed Canadians working quietly to protect Canada’s economic interests provided a more effective and less vulnerable form of insurance than any formal guarantee could. Astutely, he assured Ottawa that he would continue to present Canada’s position forcefully to UNRRA officials. His position during these negotiations

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was somewhat analogous to that of a real estate agent desiring to earn his commission: he must convince his clients that he is ably representing their interests while simultaneously persuading them to lower the purchase price to seal a deal. Over time, Pearson would deftly coax the Canadian government to adopt a more flexible position on wheat sales. For the moment, however, on 16 November 1944, as instructed, Pearson formally communicated Canada’s decision to earmark ten million bushels of wheat as part of its allocation to UNRRA.10 He informed Ottawa that UNRRA officials were concerned that ‘if this practice were followed by every state, especially the South American ones, they would be in difficulties.’11 While Pearson supported UNRRA’s desire to maintain its fiscal independence, he had other personal reasons to hope that the matter could be resolved informally. As the chair, he wanted to avoid the issue being raised in the Committee on Supplies where the Russian government could exploit the issue and undermine his own credibility. He also had to maintain the appearance of neutrality while reconciling UNRRA’s requirement for fiscal independence with his government’s desire to ensure that wheat formed a significant proportion of Canada’s total contribution to UNRRA. Thus, he found himself walking a delicate tightrope – a misstep would jeopardize his future influence within UNRRA diplomatic circles. He never changed his view that a formal guarantee was not necessary or indeed desirable. He did, however, change his tactics as circumstances required. In particular, he urged a modification in the wording of the earmarking proposal that the Canadian government had submitted, suggesting that the request might prove more acceptable if the quantity of wheat to be earmarked was limited to Canada’s specific international obligations arising out of the International Wheat Agreement. Tying the Canadian request to an existing international obligation would diminish its potential damage as a precedent for other countries and thus make it more palatable to UNRRA. Pearson’s initiative failed. He was informed that, while the Canadian government was reluctant to ‘deal with this question in a way that would create a precedent which may be embarrassing for UNRRA,’ it was not prepared to sacrifice what it perceived to be Canada’s legitimate national interests. Ottawa’s continued intransigence indicated that domestic politics, especially where the export of wheat was concerned, figured prominently in the navigation of its financial negotiations with UNRRA. The King government remained adamant that a substantial part of the Canadian contribution to UNRRA – a part distinct from that financed

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by the use of free funds – be in the form of wheat. Pearson was told that ‘serious misunderstandings might arise with the Canadian agricultural interests’ if wheat were not earmarked.12 The Canadian government intended to use UNRRA to underwrite a form of crop insurance limiting the economic and political risk of unexpected undulations in the international wheat market. UNRRA officials should not have been surprised by the Canadian demands since Ottawa’s concern over the surplus question had been raised with them at an earlier meeting held in Ottawa in May 1944.13 The issue stagnated until the end of December 1944, when Andrew Cairns, the Canadian endorsed by Pearson as chief of the UNRRA Food Division, came to Ottawa personally to plead UNRRA’s case. Cairns certainly had impressive credentials to adjudicate the dispute. He had been the secretary of the international beef conference which regulated imports of beef into the United Kingdom before the United States entered the war. Later, he served as director of statistics and intelligence in the British Ministry of Food. In 1940 he was appointed special economic adviser to Sir Frederick Leith-Ross and he assisted in the development of plans leading to the establishment of the Inter-Allied Committee on Post-War Requirements. Cairns had unique terms of employment with UNRRA; he had not severed his ties with the International Wheat Council but remained, in effect, its secretary, and he drew one-third of his salary from this position. He knew the intricacies of the international wheat market and seemed to have a sympathetic understanding of Canada’s vulnerable position as a major supplier in a precarious commodity market. Cairns persuaded Norman Robertson at External Affairs that the Canadian request for special treatment of Canadian wheat was inadvisable. At the same time, Pearson changed his line of attack again, telling Ottawa that the earmarking proposal was jeopardizing other potential Canadian sales to UNRRA. Following Cairns’s visit, Robertson asked his colleagues in the departments of agriculture and trade and commerce to reconsider the request for a formal guarantee.14 He had concluded that wheat would form an acceptable proportion of the Canadian contribution to UNRRA. It might not be to Canada’s advantage if a precedent obliged UNRRA to purchase wheat from all the signatories of the International Wheat Agreement. Implicit, although unstated, was the argument that such a precedent might erode any advantage Canada would gain in capturing future markets. While the outcome, in part, bears testimony to both Pearson’s and Cairns’s diplo-

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matic skills, the fluctuations within the international commodity market also had begun to come into play. By 1946, world scarcities meant that Canada was being asked to supply goods that were in acute shortage. Wheat was certainly one of them. Bureaucratic Mavericks Ottawa’s concern, to minimize the financial burden of providing postwar relief and to establish competitive footholds for its exports as it eased the Canadian nation back towards a stable peacetime economy, encouraged Canadian procurement officials to act as salesmen for Canadian exports to UNRRA. But the charismatic personalities of key Canadian officials equally shaped the history of Canada’s procurement relations with UNRRA. In Elgin Wasson, the former president of O’Cedar Canada, the Canadian government had found a particularly aggressive sales representative for Canadian goods. Until his appointment to UNRRA’s European Regional Office (ERO) – as the London headquarters was officially known – he carefully cultivated an informal procurement process which circumvented the procedure agreed upon at Atlantic City – that no contact would be made with a supplier country until the Combined Food Board had approved the prospective purchase. Canada’s informal channels of communication, while embarrassing to explain at times, not only maximized its procurement opportunities but also minimized the chance that UNRRA would let supply contracts that could not be filled.15 The informal procurement policy worked to Canada’s and UNRRA’s mutual advantage. UNRRA officials were certainly exposed to Canadian high-pressure sales techniques outside the prescribed procurement channels, but they were compensated on several occasions when informal arrangements produced a sizeable discount in the price of relief supplies. Predictably, officials in Ottawa were also eager to dispose of Canada’s war surplus to UNRRA to offset some of the expenses of retooling the economy for peacetime production. Canadian officials, with Pearson’s assistance, had agreed informally to sell UNRRA war surplus at a discount. In making these arrangements, Pearson bypassed normal channels of communication within the Bureau of Supply, preferring to sort out the issue with his fellow Canadian, ‘Andy’ Cairns. In doing so, he was careful to avoid unwanted publicity around the special arrangements that might threaten Canada’s potential as the preferred source of war surplus or tarnish his own reputation.16 Canada informed UNRRA’s

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Washington procurement division of existing availabilities of war surplus materiel at the same time as it informed Canadian government departments. It was ‘estimated that over $25 million of Canadian surplus was bought, most of it brand new supplies of high quality at very considerable discount,’ even when it meant declaring goods surplus to prevent manufacturers from selling them at much higher prices in Europe.17 One of the best deals for both UNRRA and Canada came when the Canadian government conveyed 3,600 surplus army trucks directly to Poland and Czechoslovakia and thereby minimized the amount of pilferage and vandalism that the devastating conditions of Europe encouraged. When the 9th Canadian Armoured Division convoy arrived in Pilsen, Czechoslovakia, they were greeted by President Eduard Beneš at a special reception ‘at which the Czech people threw their hats in the air as they cheered.’18 The Canadian military also benefited because it was assured that any surplus trucks sold in Europe would be replaced by new trucks produced in Canada. As this example illustrates, the value of Canadian surplus goods for UNRRA cannot be determined by dollar amount alone. The value of the trucks came in large part from the timeliness of their availability: a lack of transportation was then the major logistical nightmare hampering UNRRA’s efforts to get its teams into the field. The familiar sight of broken-down UNRRA trucks by the roadsides in the French and German countryside had done little to overcome the growing public image of UNRRA’s ineptitude. The delivery of the Canadian trucks, a full six months before the U.S. Army had any for disposal and at a time when the internal transportation systems within both Poland and Czechoslovakia were in complete chaos, was the first step in rehabilitating UNRRA’s damaged reputation.19 The creation of the Canadian Commercial Corporation in 1946, with authority over both imports and exports, coincided with the erosion of the amicable informal cooperation that had characterized the early years of Canadian-UNRRA procurement operations. Richard Green, who served as the chief of the UNRRA Procurement Section for the corporation, found that former UNRRA practices of direct contact with suppliers had become counter-productive, often leading to Canadian and UNRRA officials working at cross-purposes. When someone from the UNRRA Agricultural Rehabilitation Division toured the prairies talking to western farmers about procuring cattle, Ottawa was then deluged by letters from farmers inquiring when the contracts for cattle

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sales were to be let. This left the government in the uncomfortable position of ‘no one knowing anything about the matter at all.’20 Some of the problems certainly came from the administrative changes enacted by the CCC, which slowed down and complicated the procurement procedures. Green’s sensitivity to UNRRA’s direct contacts with Canadian vendors may have arisen in part because this practice exposed the CCC’s ineptitude in servicing UNRRA’s procurement needs. Green now found himself acting as ‘a wheel within a wheel.’ His sense of frustration with both UNRRA’s meddling and the bureaucratic inertia within the corporation resounds throughout his monthly report for September 1947: ‘From the beginning to end, most everyone who has come into contact with UNRRA, has been sorely tempted to throw up their hands in disgust on various occasions. I, for one, have always maintained that UNRRA’s methods are the closest thing to organized confusion as ever will be encountered and I just say that probably the only thing which has kept me going is the full realization of the importance of the work which UNRRA is doing.’21 Under Green’s tenure, UNRRA officials complained more frequently that they had to rely on their own resources to sort out bottlenecks in the procurement channels. Cairns questioned Green’s ability as an administrator: ‘While it is true that Green had an insufficient and perhaps incompetent staff, I have learned that he himself is to a considerable extent responsible for some of the errors of both omission and commission.’22 Yet, even if the Canadian performance in procuring relief goods deteriorated somewhat during the CCC era, it still drew praise from one senior UNRRA official. The corporation’s employees, he maintained, ‘had been most co-operative and helpful and, by and large, have done a fine job for UNRRA. In fact, our Canadian procurement has undoubtedly been the most satisfactory from the standpoint of securing urgently needed supplies.’23 One of the key reasons for the success of Canadian procurement operations was the presence of such individuals as Andrew Cairns and his colleague, James McNash, who was on loan from the Department of Trade and Commerce, in key administrative positions within UNRRA’s Washington headquarters.24 They were able to circumvent bottlenecks in the day-to-day operations either by contacting the vendors or responsible controller or by seeking the aid of government officials whom they had known prior to being posted to UNRRA. On occasion, they were able to intervene more dramatically as troubleshooters to stave off a developing crisis or to encourage Canadian officials to undertake the

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development of new products for UNRRA’s procurement programs. Canada became one of UNRRA’s most valuable food suppliers in part because of the efforts of the Canadians on UNRRA’s staff. Yet even Cairns left behind a legacy of controversy surrounding his administration of the Food Division. One assessment of his work contended that ‘Cairns turned out to be completely intractable with regard to following established policy and procedure. During the entire life of UNRRA he largely went his own way doing things as he saw fit without reference to any procedures, confusing the issues, bawling up records, and irritating everybody with whom he came into contact.’25 Still, in 1947 Lowell Rooks, the last director general of UNRRA, freely admitted that ‘both of my predecessors and I were well aware of their [Cairns’ and McNash’s] aggressive spirit and far from doing anything to dampen it, we gave it every encouragement because we fully realized that in a world actively short of food and full of hungry people they had to be aggressive to do the job assigned to them.’26 Similarly, Karl Borders of the Bureau of Supply congratulated both Canadians on their accomplishments immediately prior to his departure from UNRRA. ‘You have fought a valiant battle to supply the food needs of the world in the face of shortages, prejudices and bureaucracy. If sometimes your sword has nipped the skins of those who got in the way, I, for one, am prepared to count it a small gore in the interest of your primary objective of getting the goods to the destination for which they were intended.’27 Cairns’s reputation as an administrative maverick, well known to Ottawa officials, was echoed in a report from Canada’s Washington embassy: ‘He is a person around whom much controversy reigns, but one whose most undeniable characteristics are enthusiasm and optimism.’28 ‘Operation Horsemeat,’ the code name for Cairns’s clandestine procurement program, vividly demonstrated his cavalier disregard for established procedures or bureaucratic authority. While horsemeat had long been consumed in Europe, many North Americans found the thought of eating horsemeat repulsive. Lehman personally banned the shipment of horsemeat to any of the receiving countries, leaving a furious Cairns determined to find a way to circumvent what he believed was simply an ignorant prejudice on Lehman’s part. By threatening to resign, Cairns was allowed to proceed with the program. Unfortunately, owing to a shortage of available funds, the launch of the program had to be postponed. When La Guardia replaced Lehman at the head of UNRRA, Cairns soon found that the new director general was just as fiercely opposed to

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shipping horsemeat as his predecessor. He also realized that overcoming La Guardia’s opposition would require a more devious approach than he had used with Lehman. La Guardia’s aversion to horsemeat stemmed from his years as mayor of New York City, where he had unsuccessfully crusaded for years against the delivery of horsemeat into the city on the grounds that it was misrepresented as beef by unscrupulous meatpackers. His decision to continue his campaign against horsemeat after his appointment as UNRRA director general was viewed as a most unwelcome development within the Food Division. La Guardia had issued a statement shortly after joining UNRRA that ‘the very thought of giving horsemeat to Europe was revolting to him,’ which forced Cairns to disguise the program ‘in such a way as to prevent the D-G from finding out exactly what we were doing until he cooled off a bit.’ The UNRRA Bureau of Supply finally broke down in April 1946 and told La Guardia the truth. After a protracted and sometimes acrimonious struggle, horsemeat was delivered to those European countries from whom a firm commitment had been received, but not without one final thrust from La Guardia. As Cairns explained, La Guardia ‘had written to the Polish Economic Mission there asking that we be given permission to get other meats instead of horsemeat and that we could get them some good American corn beef at a reasonable price.’29 The UNRRA official historian noted that the UNRRA Food Division ‘did not regard the last statement as accurate,’ but the truth was stronger than that. The Food Division knew that it was ‘a damn lie’ and that ‘its major effect was to damage our procurement effort.’30 The repeated setbacks to Operation Horsemeat at UNRRA headquarters naturally had a direct impact on Cairns’s ability to procure horsemeat in Canada. Initial inquiries in April 1944 found little encouragement from the Department of Agriculture, the Meat Board, or even from the chief of the Wartime Prices and Trade Board. This Canadian reluctance, unlike that of either director general in Washington, had a practical basis. Canadian officials were unwilling ‘to promote an understanding which did not have an assured post-war future.’ By the end of August 1944, however, when UNRRA was forced to retreat from some of its commitments because of stringent financial restrictions, its Food Division came under growing pressure from Canadian officials to expedite the letting of contracts. By October, the division had learned that ‘the Saskatchewan Government had guaranteed to produce horsemeat to certain given specifications and had again given price schedules which were very attractive.’31 Ironically, the Canadians had now

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turned the tables on UNRRA officials and they were now the ones who were actively lobbying for horsemeat contracts. This was not the end of the strange set of circumstances surrounding the shipment of Canadian horsemeat to Europe. By the time that Cairns’s assistant, David MacFarlane, had concluded a fairly firm deal with the president of the Canadian horsemeat producers’ organization on 26 December 1945, accepting the entire Canadian production of canned and pickled horsemeat, the Belgian government had cornered the Canadian market. UNRRA officials earlier had encouraged the Belgian government to award contracts to the Canadian Horse Co-operative Association when it appeared that UNRRA officials themselves would not be able to procure horsemeat; these same officials now found themselves engaged in a bizarre set of negotiations with the Belgians, who were not above using bargaining techniques that verged on extortion to gain compensation for amending their contracts. In the end, UNRRA’s Food Division procured 12,000 tons of horsemeat in Canada.32 ‘This,’ MacFarlane later wrote, ‘is a phenomenal record for a new industry handled by a bunch of amateurs.’33 The Canadian government must also receive some credit for its willingness to advance $100,000 against future production of horsemeat. Andrew Cairns’s ability to induce Canadian officials to undertake new initiatives, however, was the major reason for Operation Horsemeat and its triumph over bureaucratic obstacles both in Washington and in Canada. Charles Drury: The Political Broker of Polish Procurement It had often been Pearson’s role as the chair of the Committee on Supplies and at Council sessions to offer constructive suggestions to ameliorate mounting East-West tension. On the ground in Europe, another Canadian would be called upon to navigate these turbulent political waters in an effort to assist the Polish people. Late in April 1947, the Empire Club of Toronto heard the first detailed account of the role UNRRA had played in the reconstruction of Poland after the war. The speaker was Brigadier Charles M. (‘Bud’) Drury, the first Canadian to head an UNRRA mission and later a Cabinet minister in the governments of Pierre Trudeau. After a protracted set of negotiations, UNRRA finally had constituted a Polish mission acceptable to both Poland and the Soviet Union, and Drury, at Pearson’s suggestion, had been selected to lead it. But the thirty-two-year-old Canadian, who was about to become a major-general at the time of his appointment,

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made his acceptance contingent on receiving assurance from Ottawa of his continued employment by the Canadian Department of External Affairs upon completion of his service with UNRRA.34 Drury’s reservations about accepting a position in a temporary international agency were symptomatic of the difficulty UNRRA faced in attracting and keeping competent senior administrators. His report to the Empire Club was really a public accounting to the Canadian people of what UNRRA had accomplished in Poland. Drury claimed that it had been difficult to recruit people in 1945 and 1946 to go to Poland and work for UNRRA, but a year later, when UNRRA was being wound up, people did not want to leave. He attributed this to the hospitality and friendliness of the Polish people, and not to the amenities, because for the UNRRA staffers there had been literally nothing to do but work, walk, and talk. Poland in 1945 had been virtually prostrate. Millions had died, the health of many of the survivors was poor, a large amount of territory had been incorporated into the Soviet Union, and nearly 40 per cent of the country’s total assets had vanished. To meet these appalling conditions, UNRRA had come into the country with some $485 million of aid, nearly $200 million of which consisted of food. This food was not distributed directly by UNRRA but was handed over to the government and combined with the indigenously produced food made available to the public through the rationing system. UNRRA was thus directly involved in all of Poland’s food production, rationing, and distribution. Drury estimated that, in June 1946, UNRRA supplied 1,100 of the 1,500 daily calories for the Polish urban population and 70 per cent of the bread and grain they consumed. Just providing food and assisting the Poles to produce more of their own agricultural needs were the most urgent tasks confronted by the UNRRA officials. In addition, UNRRA, as Drury mentioned, even supplied a complete set of medical instruments in order to help the five remaining neurosurgeons in Poland perform operations. UNRRA relief deliveries for Poland began in the spring of 1945, even before the war in Europe had ended. Because the harbours of Poland’s Baltic ports of Gydnia and Gdansk had been destroyed by wartime bombing, the first relief supplies had to be delivered via Black Sea ports and then by rail through Eastern Europe. It took a year to repair the Baltic ports to a level where they could receive UNRRA supplies. Drury was obviously proud of what his UNRRA mission had been able to accomplish. He had been in charge of a group of 170 international personnel, mainly from Britain, the United States, and Canada

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but also from a variety of other countries, along with about 200 Poles who worked with them. Drury emphasized to his Toronto audience how the diverse staff had displayed an outstanding degree of willingness and ability to cooperate. What he stressed most, however, was the impact that UNRRA had made. ‘It was remarkable, even in the outlying areas, how widespread was the knowledge of the presence and operation in Poland of UNRRA.’ The letters UNRRA on a car were all that was needed to allow unrestricted travel throughout Poland. Drury reiterated that UNRRA’s main purpose had been to enable the people of Poland to help themselves but that another objective had been to reassure the Poles that they had not been forgotten by their wartime allies after the war was over. This, Drury felt, had provided a certain satisfaction for the people of Poland. He was convinced that, although the Poles themselves were responsible for the remarkable success that had been attained to date, no such recovery could have been achieved without UNRRA’s assistance. He was confident, he told his audience, that this success was almost certain to show dividends in the form of mutual understanding and good will in the future.35 What Drury did not mention in his speech was how politically volatile the UNRRA mission to Poland had been and what a tightrope he had walked between ensuring the effectiveness of UNRRA’s operations and avoiding any open provocation of the Soviet government, a key member of UNRRA and deeply involved in the politics of post-war Poland. UNRRA had faced a particularly complex political situation in Poland, but, from the beginning, American, British, and Canadian officials had agreed that the only way relief supplies would be sent to Poland was through an UNRRA mission with full authority to receive and control UNRRA supplies, to supervise and inspect distribution, and to report to the Administration.36 In this way, they hoped to remove politics as much as possible from the distribution of relief supplies. Drury was in full agreement with this philosophy of keeping relief and international politics separate. His first task, as he outlined in a personal report, was to counteract ‘the unfortunate ideas implanted by Mr. Menshikov’ and ensure that the UNRRA mission in Poland operated in line with the general policy laid down in the various Council meetings. Mikhail Menshikov, the deputy director general of the Bureau of Areas in UNRRA’s Washington headquarters ‘who had been sent on an important investigative mission in 1945 to Poland, proved untrustworthy. He spied everywhere for Soviet objects.’37 Later he tried to tie Drury’s hands by restricting the

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original mission to thirty members. But the ‘brilliant Canadian who took charge there ... soon broke through all impediments.’38 One of the advantages that both Drury and UNRRA had was UNRRA’s glowing reputation in Poland from the beginning of its operations. Drury reported that ‘UNRRA is extremely popular in Poland both officially and unofficially.’39 Popularity in Poland, however, did not prevent attacks on UNRRA’s operations in North America, nor did it insulate the Administration from the increasingly hard-line positions of both the United States and Russia. Drury did not mention these complications in his speech either, but he had spent a great deal of time as chief of mission trying to counter the negative publicity contained in a Life magazine article of 16 December 1946 ostensibly describing UNRRA relief efforts in Poland. Entitled ‘Poland abuses UNRRA,’ this article’s first sentence stated that ‘for many months the Polish Government has distributed UNRRA supplies on a political rather than on a humanitarian basis,’ thus fuelling the debate already raging in the United States over how American funds were being used by UNRRA. Drury contended that the article contained ‘half truths and innuendos’ and gave ‘a most distorted picture’ of what was actually happening. In an internal memorandum, a member of his mission described the article as a ‘travesty of facts based on [a] complete misconception of the Polish economy.’ Drury wrote a letter in reply to Life challenging the thrust of the article and providing a detailed rebuttal of the specific details that had been included. The magazine took a long time to respond and by the time it did Drury had left his position in Poland. His letter was not published nor did Life retract its earlier allegations. The magazine’s response to Drury’s letter ended by noting the ‘unavoidable’ conclusion that ‘UNRRA is being used to support a government strongly inclined both to Communism and Russia.’40 Sadly for Drury, that impression remained with a powerful segment of the American population which wanted to end American support of UNRRA. Drury was very much aware of the political direction Poland was taking, but for him the importance of the humanitarian aid for the Polish people was the real story. So important was the contribution that Drury had made to the success of the Polish mission that, before he left his position as director general of UNRRA at the end of 1946, Fiorello La Guardia wrote personally to Prime Minister Mackenzie King to thank him and Canada for loaning Drury to UNRRA:

The Politics of Procurement 91 Drury has taken charge of an international mission in Poland at a time of great political difficulty. In my judgment that Mission has done an exceptionally good job ... and my judgment is confirmed by the many expressions of appreciation for our operations which we have received from the Government of Poland. Against that difficult political background, Drury’s Mission has supervised the receipt and handling of hundreds of thousands of tons of supplies of every description and, in addition, has given to the Government of Poland invaluable assistance in the technical fields of health and welfare. Simultaneously, large numbers of Poles have been repatriated to their country from many parts of the world. Many of our Missions have achieved particular success in the countries in which they have worked, but I find it difficult to name any country in which UNRRA has operated more successfully than in Poland. This is a further tribute to Drury’s work and judgment. In particular, I should like to emphasize the special position which he has created for himself in relation to the Government of Poland. He has done this simply by sticking to the UNRRA Resolutions and by the manner in which he has personally discharged his duties. His honesty of character and his obvious desire to be absolutely fair with the Government have put him in a position where he is quite clearly recognized by the Government and the people of Poland as a being a true friend of their Country ... He is a son of Canada of whom you may be justly proud.41

Later, when UNRRA reversed its policy and allowed its staff to receive awards from the national governments of the receiving countries, Drury was awarded the Polonic Restituta (‘Second Class Citizen’) by the government of Poland. What none of the government leaders, La Guardia, or Drury could know in 1946 and 1947 was how long it would be before Poland would emerge as a fully sovereign nation, capable of playing an independent role on the international stage. By then, unfortunately, the contributions of UNRRA and of Drury to the UNRRA mission had been long forgotten both in Poland and in Canada. Still, while Drury’s experience in Poland exposes the limits of personal diplomacy to mitigate the conduct of great powers, even for essentially humanitarian purposes, it should not obscure the importance of his or UNRRA’s work in Poland. Pearson had sought to place Canadians in key positions in UNRRA’s Bureau of Supply to protect Canadian interests. As the chair of the Committee of Supplies, he had a special interest in UNRRA’s Poland

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mission, which was primarily concerned with overseeing the equitable distribution of supplies within Poland, and he recommended Bud Drury because he thought Drury could get the job done in what would be a politically sensitive mission. He also hoped Drury would keep Ottawa abreast of developments within the Soviet-occupied area. Given the political difficulties encountered in establishing the Polish mission, Pearson concluded early on that ‘the whole problem of UNRRA’s relationship to the U.S.S.R. is filled with danger and difficulties and will require the most careful handling.’42 And in fact, in late December 1945, Drury travelled to Ottawa from the Montreal conference to brief Norman Robertson and Hume Wrong on UNRRA’s work in Poland and likely political developments there. Drury believed that ‘it would be in the long-term interests of western countries to assist through credit arrangements in the furnishing of reconstruction supplies to Poland. Otherwise they would have no choice but to seek to draw on the USSR.’ At this point, however, he ‘felt sure that Poland would not become a Communist state because of the individualistic qualities of its people and the influence of religion.’43 Despite UNRRA’s founding principle of political neutrality, Drury was only one of many Canadian UNRRAIDS whose work would become entangled in political events well beyond their control. UNRRA’s guiding principle of avowed neutrality rested on two assumptions, both of which proved faulty in practice: it presumed an ability to insulate foreign aid from power politics; and it envisioned the creation of a new type of international civil servant capable of sustaining an independent viewpoint detached from the interests of his own country. In practice, circumstances tested the resolve of UNRRAIDS to leave their national affiliations behind and to maintain the strict neutrality expected of the organization’s staff. Many charged that UNRRA’s own policies left them few options. Some developed their own strategies to navigate the politics of relief work. And still others turned to the Canadian government to redress issues that appeared beyond UNRRA’s capabilities to solve. Conclusion When Fiorello LaGuardia was about to step down as director general of UNRRA at the end of 1946, six months prior to the end of UNRRA itself, he had his officials draw up a summary of Canada’s participation in UNRRA. It was a strongly positive document, stressing the ways in

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which Canada’s assistance had helped first to launch and then to maximize the work of the organization. Canada had been the first member government to make its initial contribution and its procurement efforts had been ‘particularly effective, especially regarding commodities in tight supply. This was proved in 1945, when only Canada gave meat supplies to UNRRA.’44 Certainly, the ability of Canadians to produce quality goods at extremely favourable prices was illustrated most dramatically in the case of meat and meat products. In addition to the enormous task of procuring 200 million pounds of meat for UNRRA, Ottawa undertook, at Cairns’s suggestion, the development of several new meat packs which the Meat Board delivered for about eighteen cents per pound, or about one-half of the cost UNRRA paid for meats of comparable quality from other countries. In fact, until well after V-E Day, Canada contributed over 90 per cent of all meat shipped by UNRRA to the receiving countries. Two Canadian civil servants, Luke Pearsall and M.J. McTaggart, of the Canadian Meat Board, received special commendation in an UNRRA report for functioning ‘with an ability which is all too rare among public servants.’45 For their efforts, the members of the Canadian Meat Board also received an unusual honour – a commendation from Herbert Lehman himself. ‘We should like you and your colleagues to know the great satisfaction we have derived from the procurement of Canadian lunch meat ... Having regard to the price of this product, its quality is unusually high. Canadian lunch meat represents one of the few really bright spots in UNRRA’s difficult procurement problem.’46 Not surprisingly, personalities and administrative talent played a vital role in determining the performance of the Canadian-UNRRA supply operation. The presence of Canadians within the UNRRA Bureau of Supply partially compensated for administrative inefficiency within the Canadian procurement administration and facilitated the development of new products on UNRRA’s behalf. There were, however, instances where the Canadian UNRRAIDS’ loyalties to their former employees worked to UNRRA’s detriment. Shipping practices provided the most flagrant examples of administrative patronage which led to needless delays and conflicts. Most of UNRRA’s shipping difficulties in Canada stemmed from one source, Hugh Whipps, the Canadian appointed as the deputy of UNRRA’s Ocean Shipping Division and placed in complete charge of Canadian shipping. Whipps managed ‘the Canadian shipping in a rather arbitrary fashion with the

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result that neither the director of Ocean shipping nor Chief of the Bureau of Supply really knew what was going on.’47 The optics surrounding his decision to appoint his employer’s company, Guy Tombs, to replace another shipping company that was performing poorly were even more unfortunate.48 Despite the cases where inefficiency and excessive bureaucracy hampered the Canadian procurement operations, it was seen overall as a success story. In part, this was because, apart from its efforts to earmark wheat, the Canadian government allowed UNRRA a wider degree of operating discretion than other supplier nations, particularly the United States, whose attempt to determine the recipient in particular cases led to ‘endless delay, with the result that UNRRA got very little of some categories of foodstuffs from United States supplies.’49 Canada’s superior delivery record was one reason why the Canadian procurement establishment was held in such high esteem by UNRRA officials in Washington. A report written on food procurement in Canada after UNRRA’s dissolution acknowledged that ‘Canada Did a Real Job for UNRRA.’50 Canadian procurement had undoubtedly been more satisfactory from UNRRA’s perspective than its experience in either the Latin American countries or in the United States in at least two key respects. First, of the three major supply countries – the United States, Great Britain, and Canada – Canada consistently had the best performance record in honouring a Combined Board recommendation for UNRRA.51 Secondly, the price of Canadian goods compared favourably with that of other suppliers. A pricing system that closely paralleled the carefully regulated wartime contractual agreement with private Canadian vendors gave the Canadian Mutual Aid Board a significant advantage in setting a ceiling on prices. The War Measures Act had provided the board with the authority to order production of an item at a target price which would cover the cost and a minimum of profit. The board therefore had at its disposal a price inventory of major Canadian manufacturers. This listing quoted the most recent price which had been received for similar procurement. Armed with such information, the board even successfully resisted one MP who lobbied for a particular shoe contract.52 Canada’s procurement record suggests that the broad policy of enlightened self-interest provided a convenient administrative framework for determining its overall approach towards UNRRA. The country’s procurement practice was a mosaic of three approaches. Canadian

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officials avowed their support for UNRRA as the first step on the road to a new multilateralism. But they also resorted to bilateral negotiations when it was necessary to secure special concessions for key commodities, and they were determined to preserve their traditional markets and the last vestiges of an imperial preference system. The bid to earmark a proportion of Canada’s contribution for the purchase of wheat could be viewed as a retreat to a bilateral approach to secure special concessions. Similarly, the priority granted to its historic markets and to its wartime supply obligations to Great Britain was a logical extension of the policy of granting imperial preferences to Britain in the pre-war period. The adoption of a three-pronged trade policy and the concern to limit its overall financial commitment reflected the oscillations in Canada’s economic conditions at the end of the war. Canada had few other alternatives, for the road to multilateralism was strewn with fiscal difficulties and seemingly endless delays. The King government had simply underestimated the costs of financing multilateralism through relief abroad. A growing concern over the cost of civilian relief drove the Canadian government to launch what amounted to an aggressive marketing campaign to maximize UNRRA’s procurement of Canadian goods. Though this did not mean that the government awarded UNRRA the highest procurement priority, Canadian officials, albeit with varying degrees of ability, did make made a conscientious effort to obtain scarce items for UNRRA. And there were times when the Canadian government refused to grant export permits to Canadian firms until UNRRA’s needs were met.53 Canada’s prompt payments and willingness to supply scarce commodities paid dividends. The Canadian contribution was the first to be used up by UNRRA and the organization then returned to Canada to buy additional supplies with what were termed ‘free funds.’ By the end of September 1945, UNRRA had spent over $51 million of these free funds to purchase additional Canadian supplies and services. The largest area of purchases was wheat and wheat products, thereby assisting Canadian farmers to find markets for their wheat in this post-war transition period. During the second half of 1945, Canada shipped more wheat abroad than any other country. Similarly, there were sectors of the economy, notably fish, where, during the first year, UNRRA accounted for over 65 per cent of the total pack and well over 50 per cent in the second year. Here, too, the UNRRA market was crucial for easing the economy back to different products more conducive to normal consumer tastes.54

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UNRRA attributed Canada’s efficiency in meeting its needs to the retention of wartime controls. The Canadian government was praised for showing ‘foresight in retaining controls and courage in resisting the pressure of powerful groups.’ The reintroduction of meat rationing in October 1945 was singled out for special praise, because it permitted Canada to send more meat abroad at a time of looming food crises in Europe. In any case, whether it was motivated by enlightened selfinterest or by genuine commitment to a new multilateralism under the auspices of the United Nations, Canada’s contribution of money and goods proved invaluable to UNRRA relief and rehabilitation efforts. In part, Canada’s achievements in this area reflected that it had considerably more contractual experience in long-term food contracts than the United States, which, before the war, had been a net importer of food. Commenting on Canada’s past history in this area, the secretary of the Combined Food Board noted Canadians’ record of ‘breaking their backs to deliver against the contracts in spite of everything.’55 The well-established Canadian procurement machinery, some of which pre-dated the war, allowed Canada to move more quickly to meet UNRRA’s food requirements, even if in the later stages the Canadian Commercial Corporation never achieved a level of administrative efficiency comparable to its predecessor, the Canadian Mutual Aid Board. The study of the Canada-UNRRA procurement relationship indicated what would become evident in other areas of its operations: UNRRA produced a breed of Canadians, at headquarters and in the field, whose rugged individualism, independence of opinion, and adaptability became the hallmark of their style. But their conduct also raises a larger question: how realistic was it to expect officials, seconded by their national governments or by major business interests to join UNRRA’s staff, to sever their former ties and become a new breed of international public servant? The evidence suggests that those with previous international experience managed the conflict of interest more adeptly than others. Finally, as Drury and many other UNRRAIDS discovered, the history of UNRRA’s procurement efforts was riddled with domestic political considerations not only within the supplier nations but within the receiving countries, most of whom lacked a stable governing party. Political instability gave rise to the possibility that the internal distribution of UNRRA supplies could be used as a political weapon, and indeed the belief that UNRRA’s food and other supplies were being employed to foster communist-backed regimes helped fuel the onset of

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the Cold War. To its credit, Canada, unlike the United States, did not withhold shipments from a particular country because of political considerations, though Green did encounter cases where individual Canadian firms refused to bid on contracts because they did not want to do business with the Russians.56 While Canadian procurement policy reflected domestic political concerns, food aid was not viewed as a legitimate weapon of foreign policy – and for this, UNRRA officials were understandably grateful. The question remained as to whether growing East-West tensions would intrude upon Canadian aid policy in the future.

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PART TWO A World Uprooted: Canadians, UNRRA, and the Challenge of the Displaced

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4 Personalities and Bureaucracies

Canadian relief workers soon discovered that caring for and repatriating those driven from their homelands by war proved a far more complex and divisive task than anticipated. Like the displaced persons themselves, the relief teams were a new phenomenon and they would have to learn their job within an untried and ill-defined administrative structure. The international composition of UNRRA teams meant that issues of nationalism, gender, and professionalism could be sorted out only after the UNRRAIDS were in the field. Moreover, UNRRA’s dependence on the military for basic food supplies, shelter, transport, and security further complicated the UNRRAIDS’ work with displaced persons. While UNRRA officials could complain about the poor living conditions and lack of adequate nutritional standards within the assembly centres, only the military authorities could rectify any given situation. At the same time, though UNRRA teams’ responsibilities were broadly authorized by UNRRA’s Council, efforts to translate the Administration’s field directives interpreting the Council’s changing eligibility and repatriation policies into workable practice led to conflict within UNRRA’s teams, with other voluntary agencies, and with the occupying military authorities. Navigating relationships within teams, with the military authorities, and with government officials demanded far more political acumen than that required by the traditional social work or other jobs most Canadians had done before joining UNRRA. As long as the Allies were still fully engaged on the military front, however, winning the war took priority over UNRRA’s needs. In the meantime, the Administration did its best to prepare for the day when the UNRRA teams would be called forward to the field. At headquarters in London and Washington, Canadians figured prominently in the

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creation of UNRRA’s preliminary administrative organization, in the recruitment and training of the UNRRAIDS, and in the development of the administrative structures and field guidelines for UNRRA’s welfare work within the displaced-persons operations. One of these Canadians, Mary Craig McGeachy, was appointed in January 1944 as the director of the Welfare Division. The frequent reorganizations at UNRRA’s Washington and London headquarters and the lack of consistent administrative orders directly and dramatically affected the lives and work of the UNRRAIDS in the field precisely because UNRRA was breaking new ground in international welfare. Little detailed thought had been given to administrative structure before the Atlantic City Council and there were few other international precedents upon which field staff could rely in the meantime. Since the scope of UNRRA’s task could not be determined until after the termination of hostilities, ‘the early definitions of the organizational sections and their interrelations were, therefore, intentionally left vague, with the hopeful expectation, which was, however, but slowly realized, that men and events would determine the final details in satisfactory fashion.’1 (See appendix B.) Working for a nascent international organization with few precedents or traditions forced UNRRA’s staff to rely upon their professional expertise and to exercise independent judgment in situations as they developed in the field. Understanding how Canadian UNRRAIDS were recruited and trained, and appreciating the administrative context in which they operated, sheds considerable light on their subsequent ability, or lack thereof, to cope with the challenges encountered in representing and carrying out UNRRA’s mandate. There were six deputy directors general in charge of the administrative sections, and three directors of the functional divisions of health, welfare, and displaced persons who reported directly to the director general. Since all three functional divisions would have responsibility for some aspect of the care and well-being of millions of dislocated people, the boundaries of their relative roles and responsibilities was not always clear to UNRRA’s field staff or the receiving governments it served (see appendix C). Administrative discord was especially acute within the welfare and displaced-persons divisions and reflected a more fundamental disagreement on the meaning and purpose of relief itself. The proponents of a separate welfare section within UNRRA ‘were cultivating virgin territory.’2 There were few international precedents to draw upon from the League of Nations’ previous work. Furthermore, no inter-allied group had given consideration to the effects of

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enemy occupation on social institutions.3 Instead, the focus of post-war planning had been on determining the requirements, control, and allocation of supplies for the civilian populations once they were liberated. Relief in this context was seen as the setting up of simple and direct machinery to feed and clothe the victims of war. The early emphasis on developing UNRRA solely as a supply organization helps explain why the Welfare Division was not included within the Administration until late in the first Council session, in November 1943. The discussion at Atlantic City foreshadowed the ongoing debate surrounding what constituted relief and which division within UNRRA would be responsible for delivering these services. The confusion was compounded by the fact that most of the welfare workers were in the assembly centres (as the camps for displaced persons were renamed to avoid any continuing association with Hitler’s concentration camps), which fell within the purview of the displaced-persons operations. The uphill battle to gain acceptance for the Welfare Division within the Administration was further complicated by the lack of a unified approach to welfare within the division itself. The professional social worker was a relative newcomer on the international stage; in fact, the very concept of a social worker as a highly trained professional was a novel one in the United States and Canada, and was not widely accepted by other UNRRA member governments.4 The more conservative approach to relief embodied in the British voluntary agencies and the private agencies within the United States, like the American Red Cross, emphasized the necessity of meeting immediate needs by the simplest, most direct methods that had served so well in wartime. In general, those Americans trained in the modern concept of welfare work tended to disparage, whether justly or not, the British voluntary societies for their non-professional, un-theoretical, and haphazard approach to welfare. In contrast, the Americans tended to view social work as a profession demanding rigorous training, a code of ethics, and standards that had moved it well beyond its roots in Christian charity. The more modern American idea of welfare ‘meant more than the relief of immediate physical necessities.’ The notion of welfare as a catalyst for self-help among recipients, born during the Great Depression, was a cardinal tenet of the new professionally trained North American social workers. For them, UNRRA would have failed if its mission did not extend beyond meeting people’s basic needs to include their rehabilitation: ‘The term welfare, they held, refers to services for the rehabilitation of individuals requiring self help.’5 It was an approach to welfare that attacked the roots of social problems rather than merely ameliorat-

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ing its socio-economic manifestations. Not surprisingly, then, it was the American delegation that persuaded Director General Lehman of the value of establishing a separate division with its own standing technical committee on welfare at the Atlantic City conference. The clash of perspectives, inherent in the increasingly divergent British-American welfare traditions and among UNRRA’s functional divisions, would resound from the field right up to UNRRA headquarters, ultimately contributing to the decision to remove its first director, Mary Craig McGeachy. The New International Civil Servant: Mary Craig McGeachy McGeachy, Lehman’s choice in January 1944 to lead the new Welfare Division, was the only woman appointed to the executive level of UNRRA. Her biographer, Mary Kinnear, argues that McGeachy, like her old friend and former professor at the University of Toronto, Lester Pearson, envisaged Canada’s role as fostering cooperation through the creation of international organizations and agreements to promote ‘freedom, well being and security for all.’6 Although a Canadian nationalist, she had largely been an expatriate for most of her career as an international civil servant, and it was as a ‘grateful British Subject’ that she gained a foothold in the diplomatic world. Highly intelligent, inquisitive, and fiercely independent but charming, Mary McGeachy had made her own opportunities and had stretched the accepted roles for women in her time well before her appointment as the director of the Welfare Division. Born on 7 November 1901, a preacher’s daughter in small-town Sarnia, Ontario, ‘McGeachy never distanced herself from the religious grounding that her family provided.’7 She graduated in history and English with firstclass honours from the University of Toronto in 1924 even while fully embracing student life and campus politics. In particular, she was shaped by her involvement in the Student Christian Movement (SCM). Born of the social-gospel movement and the rising Canadian nationalism that developed between the wars, the SCM sought the advice of experts ‘to face the conditions and problems of Canada with a view to discovering the way of Jesus for our national and international life.’ According to Kinnear, ‘this combination stayed with McGeachy through her student days and beyond.’8 Given the value the SCM placed upon education, the strong role model provided by independent women within her family, and her own appetite for politics, it should

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come as no surprise that she soon left an Ontario teaching job to travel, work, and study abroad. She later completed post-graduate studies at the Sorbonne and the School of Higher International Studies in Geneva. In 1928 McGeachy obtained a post in the Information Section of the League of Nations Secretariat that disseminated information around the world on the League’s handling of public health, social welfare, and economic and financial problems. As a result of her work at the League, she adopted a pragmatic approach to international problems: ‘I really cannot see the point of noble ideals about international co-operation if these will not work with regard to economic problems.’9 On her annual trips back home, she criss-crossed the nation speaking on the League, which allowed her to cultivate contacts with international organizations, particularly the Liaison Committee of Women’s International Organizations in Canada. In the years following her appointment to UNRRA, she would remain a political activist, serving as president of the International Council of Women, an organization that promoted women’s rights and welfare. After the outbreak of the Second World War, McGeachy was employed by the British Ministry of Economic Warfare, and in 1942 she received international attention as the first woman to be given British diplomatic rank when she was appointed first secretary at the British embassy in Washington. During this period, she worked closely with British voluntary societies, contributing to the founding of the British Council of Societies for Relief Abroad (COBSRA). The British may have had their own agenda for their first secretary, however. Viscount Halifax, the British ambassador to Washington, ‘recognized the services that she could render as director in putting forward the British approach to Welfare questions,’ as well as the importance of securing key posts in UNRRA for British officials.10 When London made the decision to release her for service with UNRRA, some of her colleagues at the British Ministry of Economic Warfare wrote that they saw in her ‘the new international civil servant who must emerge and serve the new age and create new values’; others admitted that ‘it was going to be good to have you as an ally planked [sic] into the upper reaches of UNRRA.’11 Kinnear describes McGeachy as a skilled international civil servant adept at functioning in a man’s world by the time of her UNRRA appointment: ‘She was an ambitious climber whose tools included flirtation to get her own way ... McGeachy was not intimidated by all the stuffy and clever men. Twelve years at the League where she had come to know many of her present colleagues, and men like them had taught

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her what she could get away with ... McGeachy ... defied convention. She was stretching the boundaries of acceptable behaviour.’12 McGeachy was both an idealist and pragmatist. She had seen her wartime elevation to temporary diplomatic status for what it was; she knew that it did not herald a future career in the British Foreign Service – the end of the war would most likely bring reduced opportunities for employment for her as it would for other women engaged in wartime work. Her original Washington assignment, justifying the British blockade to Americans, had disappeared once the United States entered the war. Increasingly, both out of necessity and genuine interest, she then turned her attention to post-war planning. In doing so, she set a pattern that would characterize her entire working life: she would use her current position as a stepping stone towards future employment, carefully cultivating contacts that might advance her career. During a visit to London in 1942, she began building networks with women’s groups and started attending the Inter-Allied Committee on Post-War Planning under Sir Frederick Leith-Ross’s direction. Making herself ‘noticed and useful within Leith-Ross’s orbit,’13 she worked hard at becoming his protégé when he was later appointed the new deputy director general of UNRRA.14 To survive, she would need Leith-Ross’s prestige and protection during her tenure as director of the Welfare Division. Fortunately, she also profited from being Lehman’s personal choice for the position and continued to enjoy his protection from criticism within his own office.15 There has been some suggestion that he felt bound to support her since he had made the appointment under pressure from the British government, without consulting any other senior UNRRA administrators.16 Even under the best-case scenario, to design and run a Welfare Division that stretched across the Atlantic to include the European Regional Office would demand a mature, skilled, and steady administrator. For McGeachy, the job was made even more difficult by several factors. First, the lack of clear lines delineating relative responsibilities between Washington and London fed the ensuing power struggles among UNRRA’s senior administrative staff. Secondly, UNRRA’s welfare program would be dependent on the voluntary organizations for personnel and supplementary specialized welfare supplies. It was expected that McGeachy’s close relationship with and understanding of the voluntary associations would smooth the way for their involvement in UNRRA’s proposed operations in the Middle East and later in Europe. Yet developing cordial working relationships with the British and

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American voluntary organizations, already well established in international relief work and fiercely protective of their own turf, would prove more daunting than McGeachy first realized. As Marjorie Bradford, one of Canada’s most well-respected social workers who had been appointed by UNRRA to SHAEF to coordinate the voluntary agencies’ efforts with those of UNRRA, discovered: the voluntary agencies viewed ‘the idealists on the UNRRA’s staff as children with dynamite in their hands.’17 Finally, the Welfare Division would begin its preparatory work already well behind the other sections, and, unlike them, it could not draw on any of the studies prepared for the Inter-Allied Committee on Post-war Requirements. McGeachy pointed out: ‘We have maps of sheep population and the pig population of Europe. But there exists no map of the orphan population.’18 How she would go about organizing the Welfare Division reflected her personal administrative style and philosophical approach towards UNRRA’s welfare work within the liberated countries. Kinnear contends that some of the criticism surrounding McGeachy’s lack of professional background in social work was unjustified: ‘To her mainly American subordinates in Washington, many of them with training as professional social workers and working experience in public and private agencies, McGeachy personified the image of English, noblesse oblige approach to the old-fashioned kind of relief which they were at pains to dispel. Throughout her tenure as director she was subjected to severe criticism, much of it based upon a caricature both of her own approach and of the British voluntary societies. She was up to the challenge. She proved remarkably long-lived and outlasted most of her critics.’19 The clash of professional outlooks produced an uneasy tension within the Welfare Division from headquarters to the field. Effective leadership, however, would demand more than mere personal survival. McGeachy always purported to believe that the two approaches to social work were ‘complementary, and if one could bring to bear upon social welfare problems both points of view one might arrive at an extremely interesting and fruitful result.’20 To become an effective administrator, she would have to meld the differing perspectives to forge the beginnings of an international approach to welfare work. Could she reconcile the divergent viewpoints of the American professional social workers and British voluntary societies? How would she adapt the theoretical constructs underpinning her approach to international welfare work to the practical job of building an administrative apparatus in Washington and London to deliver UNRRA’s

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welfare program in the field? McGeachy, as it turned out, would have to do this at the same time as she was recruiting and training the welfare workers for UNRRA’s first mission in the Balkans. It would be her job to develop the policy directives to guide UNRRA welfare officers in the field even before the division’s preparatory work had been concluded. McGeachy had begun to formulate her approach to welfare work as early as 1943 when, while working alongside Leith-Ross, she came to the view that creating and preserving a community-based approach to welfare was as important on an international level as on a local one. Her ideas evolved. One of her inspirations was the resistance movements within the occupied countries. The resistance movements, she argued, meant more than acts of sabotage to cripple Hitler’s’ war machine; ‘resistance also meant looking after one’s neighbor,’21 thereby preserving the sense of a democratic community until it could be resurrected after the cessation of hostilities. She constantly reminded her audiences that the continental welfare workers needed to respect ‘the people who have known how to form a network of communication across hundreds of miles under the eyes of the armies of occupation [and who] have learned how to act together with ingenuity, self reliance and responsibility. The people who endure our attacks on their factories ... who share their sparse rations with our fliers and their own underground warriors; these people whose family circles are enlarged by taking in the children of a neighbor who has been snatched away to forced labour or shot as a hostage[,] these people are not passive victims of ill fortune, waiting to become dependent upon our bounty.’22 In her view, the resistance movements had thwarted the basic intention of Nazi policy in Europe, which was ‘really a social one; to break up the voluntary ways by which people express their responsibility in their own community and therefore feel bound together.’23 These ‘practical social welfare workers,’ she argued, were ‘one of the greatest resources of all liberated countries for the future.’24 McGeachy also drew from the experience of the British voluntary societies during the Blitz. What impressed her was the ability of the British to adapt their welfare approach to meet the emergency situation of those dark days, so that individuals within the community took responsibility for each other. To her credit, she understood that the role of welfare assistance should not be to go in ‘to organize another continent but rather to help their neighbors in a practical way.’25 The experience of feeding and sheltering large groups dislocated by the bombing

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raids, she knew, would be relevant for the work waiting in the liberated countries. Finally, McGeachy remained committed to preserving individual dignity through the kind of self-help that was part of the American social-welfare experience during the depression of the 1930s, a model that she thought was relevant ‘to rehabilitating and re-adapting people who have been displaced from their homes by the Germans during the last three years.’26 The majority of Americans espoused the belief that a primary goal of welfare should stimulate self-help among the recipients, and McGeachy agreed. In brief, the Canadian who headed UNRRA’s new Welfare Division advocated an approach to international welfare that championed the strengthening of the community itself to deal with its own problems.27 Her chief concern, as she understood it, was ‘to see to it that our plans bring out the values that exist in the Occupied Countries and lend support to the institutions and voluntary groups there rather than impose new ones.’28 She rejected the idea of international relief as mere charity and was quick to point out that it was in the Allies’ own economic selfinterest to help the liberated countries to help themselves: ‘The quicker we restore the seed, the sooner will come the harvest. As we help them to help themselves, so eventually we will help them to help us and thereby ourselves to greater peace and prosperity.’29 From her contacts on both sides of the Atlantic, she had selectively absorbed elements of both the British and the American approach to social work. Despite her efforts, however, she was never entirely successful in melding the two approaches at the executive level, with the result that criticism was aimed at her from both sides. Her American critics believed that she favoured the British voluntary societies, even though, as Kinnear points out, she emphasized the need to involve the recipient countries in the restoration of their social institutions back to their pre-war levels because she feared that the Americans would impose their own social norms on European cultures.30 As a consequence, she continued to believe that an international approach based upon a cooperative effort of multinational teams was the best way to avoid paternalism or divisions along ethnic or religious lines. What McGeachy perhaps underestimated was how long it would take to inculcate an international approach in the field, especially while the powerful voluntary agencies remained autonomous actors in practice. Her initial intent to bring the voluntary agencies under UNRRA’s umbrella seemed to be belied by her subsequent actions. Her decision,

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for example, to allow the British voluntary societies to wear shoulder flashes that said ‘relief’ rather than ‘UNRRA’ – a decision that was eventually vetoed by Hugh Jackson, the deputy director general for regional liaison – showed a singular lack of judgment.31 It did little to dispel Americans’ perceptions of McGeachy’s favouritism towards the British voluntary societies or to further a unified approach in the field. Jackson, who ‘thought that Miss McGeachy was a hopeless administrator,’ remained convinced that she was the ‘arch protagonist of the British views on welfare.’32 It was this belief, aggravated by the difficulties he encountered in negotiating working arrangements for the British voluntary societies in the Middle East Relief and Refugee Administration (MERRA) camps and the Balkan mission, that led to his abortive attempt to remove McGeachy while she was away on a recruiting mission in 1944. Jackson was only one of McGeachy’s many critics. McGeachy knew that she would be staking out new ground in the face of considerable scepticism from other powerful administrators, such as Roy Hendrickson, the deputy director general of the Bureau of Supply. Since Hendrickson viewed UNRRA entirely as a supply organization, he thought the welfare staff ‘an unnecessary adjunct serving an ill defined purpose.’33 Hendrickson would prove an increasingly formidable opponent as he built the Bureau of Supply ‘into an empire within an empire,’34 and his ability to exert influence over the Administration grew as UNRRA moved aggressively into the procurement and delivery of supplies at the end of the war. The ‘divergent interest of the welfare, health and displaced person divisions,’ which had been created to provide relief services, ‘remained unrecognized.’35 The problem for the Welfare Division, McGeachy noted, ‘is very difficult, and there is no doubt that we may claim that we are being put in an unfair position, having first had to do our preparatory work in the face of scepticism, and even opposition and obliged to accept reductions in our budgets. There is, however, no use in crying over spilt milk.’36 Since the Welfare Division, unlike the other functional divisions, had no separate representation within the Bureau of Supply, the delivery of welfare supplies lacked priority and so welfare workers in the field were left to scrounge, beg, improvise, or ‘liberate’ the scarce goods needed. ‘What the welfare staff accomplished,’ UNRRA’s official history notes, ‘was primarily due to energy and initiative of individuals in the ranks; and despite all these handicaps, their contributions were substantial.’37 There were, however, other obstacles

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to overcome. The Bureau of Supply had been ensconced right from the beginning, and McGeachy failed to create a nucleus of strong people around her in Washington to counter Hendrickson’s growing influence within the Administration, especially given her prolonged absences in Europe. The mistake proved costly. McGeachy also had to defend the Welfare Division’s operating authority in the field from the competing interest of the Displaced Persons Division, headed by Fred Hoehler, the former director of the American Public Welfare Association. When she attempted unsuccessfully to argue that the whole displaced-persons operation logically fell within the Welfare Division’s supervision, she collided head-on with Hoehler’s ambitious plans for his own division.38 He wanted the Displaced Persons Division to function independently outside the individual country missions. When his plan was vetoed, he contended that ‘the D.P.s became a segmented problem with individual national governments working independently of any operation and with divided direction and shifting responsibility.’ Hoehler believed that the ‘confusion and divided responsibility’ made the displaced-persons operations ‘almost inhumane and at best a not too happy experience for those who had the welfare of these unfortunate people at their disposal.’39 McGeachy clearly inherited a demanding role as the director of a division with few international precedents to draw upon and whose exact scope of responsibility could be accurately determined only after the cessation of hostilities. Furthermore, she would lead a division without adequate financial resources or, as it turned out, the cohesive administrative backing of either Washington headquarters or the European Regional Office. But those inherent difficulties were compounded by her subsequent administrative decisions. She failed to heed Leith-Ross’s warning to get the Welfare Division on a sound administrative footing early on, which would have allowed it to continue functioning during her prolonged absences.40 Her Washington staff contended that Mary Craig’s move to London in November 1944 – the move allowed her to marry Erwin Schuller shortly thereafter – left them adrift: ‘Her direction of the Welfare Division at Headquarters virtually ceased and the work of planning and policy making was carried on by a series of Deputy Directors with almost no guidance or instructions from her. She returned for a few weeks (September–November 1944) and for about five months (February–July 1945) but even then she was often away from the office for days at a time and her staff had little opportunity to know what she expected or what projects she wished to have developed.’41

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Members of her staff complained that, during her 1945–6 travels, the only report they received was a copy of a broadcast that she made on 22 November on the distribution of clothing in France.42 Similarly, Harry Greenstein, who was the Welfare Division’s representative in the Middle East, claimed that ‘he never had one letter from Miss McGeachy. He had no idea of what her philosophy of Welfare was or is or what she expected of her Division.’43 There were complaints from other of her senior administrators that ‘she tended to clip the functions of her subordinates but offered no leadership herself ... she stayed away from the office for days and then showed up with some idea she didn’t carry through. Not one of her deputies was able to have an idea of what Welfare policy was or what had been done before.’44 Senior members of UNRRA’s administrative staff were left with the impression that ‘McGeachy considered herself as the World Director of Welfare who was free to go on missions and represent welfare concepts rather than do administration of the Division.’45 Greenstein contended that Deputy Director General Hugh Jackson’s abortive attempt in 1944 to abolish the Welfare Division ‘came not from a lack of sympathy with the purposes of the Division, but from a feeling that better no Welfare Division than one with her at its head.’46 Interestingly enough, when Greenstein successfully defended the Welfare Division in her absence against Hugh Jackson’s unsuccessful campaign to remove McGeachy, his reward was to be ‘roundly scolded by Miss McGeachy for presuming to act in her absence without authorization.’47 It is somewhat of a perplexing paradox that McGeachy could be a gifted public speaker capable of conveying complex ideas in a personable and understandable manner and yet never used that talent to build an esprit de corps within her own administrative entourage. McGeachy survived the organizational restructuring in 1945, aimed at simplifying the administrative apparatus and extending the European Regional Office’s control over field operations in Europe and the Middle East. The Welfare Division in the European regional office was merged with Displaced Persons Division but remained a separate functional division in Washington headquarters. The authority of the Welfare Division was clearly being challenged. McGeachy was not prepared to acquiesce easily, however. Her pleas for a budget increase for the Welfare Division in order to place more welfare officers in the field went unheeded, indicating that welfare work would remain a low priority for UNRRA. Over the next year, she repeatedly had to fend off the scepticism and criticism of those, like Jackson, who questioned the

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necessity or indeed the value of including welfare officers in the assembly centres. With Director General Lehman’s and Sir Frederick LeithRoss’s resignations in the spring of 1946, her position as director of the Welfare Division was vulnerable to attack. Some have argued that the appointment of Fiorello La Guardia signalled outright war on the Welfare Division.48 The testimony of George Mooney is relevant in this regard. As the executive secretary of the Administrative Council in London, Mooney had been the hub of communication between Washington and London as attempts were made to straighten out the administrative muddle characterizing UNRRA’s early efforts. He had joined UNRRA ‘when the organization was very young’ and had ‘put in some hard and steady licks to try to whip it into shape.’ As he said, I have ‘seen UNRRA from Washington to every operational point in the globe.’ Mooney believed that La Guardia was a prima donna who ‘lives on crises; and if there isn’t one then he makes one. He would wilt unless there was a fire to put out somewhere!! He’s an extraordinary dynamic person, a bundle of nerves and hunches, a direct shooter and fundamentally sincere and honest. He was tailor made for the job of running New York but in my opinion is wrongly cast in his present role with UNRRA.’49 When La Guardia took the decision to merge the Welfare Division with the newly created Displaced Persons and Repatriation Division in May 1946, the purge represented more than the desire to get rid of McGeachy; it reflected a more fundamental shift of policy direction away from rehabilitation in favour of increasing repatriation efforts. It was UNRRAIDS in the field who would have to deal with the very human side of implementing a policy directive aimed at overcoming the increasing reluctance of those who remained in the camps to return home. McGeachy was relegated to the position of liaison officer with the voluntary agencies under the direction of Michail Menshikov of the Bureau of Services until her resignation on 23 August 1946.50 One is left to speculate whether, even if Mary Craig McGeachy had been a more adept administrator, she would have survived under the different direction that La Guardia was determined to take. According to Kinnear, the fact that McGeachy ‘remained as welfare director despite widespread back biting was a tribute to her tenacity, her powerful friends, and her great skill in rising above mundane details to see a wider picture of the need to bring emergency help to victims of war.’51 There is no doubt that, as a woman in a leadership position in the first post-war international organization, McGeachy faced

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both gender prejudice and an enormous administrative responsibility. Nevertheless, she was not without her own shortcomings. It was not that she lacked an intelligent and innovative vision of international welfare work but rather that she failed to convey it to those to whom she had delegated authority. McGeachy’s ultimate failure to develop a strong administrative foothold for the Welfare Division meant that she had left herself and UNRRA’s welfare program open to attack. The fallout from unclear lines of responsibilities and squabbling among the functional divisions at headquarters contributed to the administrative confusion in the field, while the consequent frequent reorganization did little to create confidence among UNRRA staff members. Even in her private life, McGeachy was the subject of controversy. During the days when she was negotiating for a senior administrative post with UNRRA, she was being courted by one of London’s most eligible bachelors, Erwin Schuller. Their relationship ran against the social mores of the time, for, as an Austrian, Erwin was regarded as a German citizen and had been interned as an enemy alien in Britain during the war. Eventually, after his release from the internment camp, he assumed a senior administrative position with the British National Council of Social Service, the principal coordinating body for the voluntary effort during the war, and his work there brought him into contact with McGeachy. Kinnear provides an engaging portrayal of her complicated relationship with Schuller. On the one hand, their marriage provided Mary McGeachy with an insurance policy at a period when career opportunities for single women within the international arena offered little job security. At the same time, while Erwin was a source of intellectual support for UNRRA’s work, he was also an emotional distraction in his constant demand for Mary’s approval: ‘He needed her opinion and agreement with the intellectual matters which continued to concern them both: the interconnection of voluntary groups, international co-operation and the features of a civil society. He respected her brainpower and judgement, and he admired her ability to balance the larger picture with the details. He was also susceptible to occasional depression.’52 Their exchanges on post-war relief planning refined her approach to international welfare work; his demand for her attention meant jockeying her UNRRA connections to bring him to New York to work on training matters before their marriage and arranging for his secondment to UNRRA’s European Regional Office afterwards. It also explains why Europe was a more attractive place from which to work after their marriage – even though the move did

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nothing to improve the administrative confusion in the Welfare Division, and in fact exacerbated it. UNRRAIDS: Recruitment and Training The Administration had two primary tools at its disposal to shape the new breed of international servants who would carry out its mandate at headquarters and in the field. The first was the series of administrative policies it established to set recruiting standards, to establish remuneration levels, and to govern the conduct of its staff. The second was the period of training required of all staff to familiarize them with UNRRA’s mandate generally and to brief them on their particular responsibilities. The director general’s responsibility for recruiting staff was not a task to be envied. Even before the UNRRAIDS reached the field, the real difficulty that UNRRA would encounter in forging a unified and independent identity among its personnel in the field had been foreshadowed. There was never any certainty that a cadre of well-qualified international civil servants could be recruited in wartime and trained in time to enter the field in the wake of the army. UNRRA’s general policy was that its staff should have as international a composition as possible without compromising the quality or competence of its personnel. Given that the major recruiting drive was done before the liberation of either Europe or Asia, personnel were drawn primarily from the United States and the British Commonwealth. Recruiting efforts were further complicated by the fact that UNRRA’s international staff, appropriate both in numbers and in expertise, had to be assembled and sent to staging areas around the world before the scope of the relief and rehabilitation tasks or the countries which would require the most assistance had been determined. The Administration’s classification of personnel and salary policies exacerbated the ethnic and class divisions among its field staff. UNRRA’s staff was divided into three classes, with each having a different basis for determining salary levels. Class I employees, regardless whether they served within their home country or abroad, were subject to the terms and conditions of international employment under direct contract with the Administration. Their remuneration was determined by their base salary in their home country prior to joining UNRRA in order to avoid charges that the organization was offering extravagant salaries to attract relief workers. UNRRA Class II employees were

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recruited from among the nationals in the country receiving aid and were not subject to the terms and conditions of international employment with the Administration. Their pay was determined in line with local costs of living and wages in order not to distort the local economies. Class III employees were members of voluntary agencies who, while not paid by UNRRA, were administratively accountable to the Administration. Though the salary policies appeared sensible in theory, their application produced widespread discontent among UNRRA’s staff in the field. In practice, UNRRA’s personnel policies meant that there were two classes of employees and that Class II employees received significantly lower wages. UNRRA’s salary policies appeared to many observers to breach the Administration’s mandate not to discriminate according to sex, nationality, race, or creed. The derogatory nature of language embodied in the apparent discrimination between Class I personnel and Class II personnel raised ethnic and class barriers even before the Canadian UNRRAIDS reached the field.53 In addition to the orientation provided during the training courses, UNRRA adopted specific policies designed to ensure compliance with the public image depicting its employees as impartial international civilian servants. UNRRAIDS were prohibited from making any public statements or publications without prior authorization. It should be kept in mind that Canadians upon joining UNRRA’s staff were required to sign an oath of loyalty ‘to discharge my functions and to regulate my conduct with its interest alone in view, and not to seek or receive from any government or other authority external to the Administration any instruction controlling me in my performance of my official duties.’54 The reality on the ground amidst civil war or in the face of intransigent military officers soon exposed the limits of neutrality. Mary Craig McGeachy was proud of the Welfare Division’s high standards for personnel and recruitment, and she was determined to retain authority over both. But circumstances beyond her control made it difficult to attract enough well-qualified applicants, who were to have a university degree in social work with at least two years’ experience.55 The introduction of ‘Buzz Bombs,’ the new unmanned bomb-laden planes, in the summer of 1944 placed a higher manpower priority on civilian defence in Britain, undermining UNRRA’s recruiting efforts there. Moreover, the Administration’s early relationships with both the British and American voluntary associations, upon whom it had counted as its chief recruiting source, were fractured by hostility and misunderstanding. As a result, the number of recruits from the volun-

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tary agencies did not come close to the expected levels. ‘By early summer of 1944, it was evident that if UNRRA was to meet the imperative need for personnel for the Balkan Mission, new sources would have to be tapped.’56 According to Kinnear, McGeachy brought about an arrangement ‘quite original and certainly novel for military authorities. She essentially contracted out the recruitment function to voluntary organizations.’57 Kinnear notes that McGeachy always intended to rein in the voluntary societies under UNRRA’s umbrella, but she provides no further evaluation of the success of this program, outside the well-established British model. It should be pointed out, too, that McGeachy never was able to convince the voluntary agencies to adhere to the high recruitment and training standards set for UNRRA’s welfare personnel. Extending recruiting to Canada and the other dominions had not been a forgone conclusion in UNRRA’s original planning. In May 1944 McGreachy, who had suggested the need for recruitment outside Britain, travelled to Canada to drum up support among the voluntary societies there. From this and subsequent visits, the groundwork was laid for the formation of the Canadian Council of Voluntary Societies in July 1944. By March 1945, the secretary of the council, Joy Maines, had concluded that the Canadian recruiting drive among voluntary societies was largely stillborn. Laying the blame directly at UNRRA’s doorstep, she complained that the relationship with UNRRA headquarters had been far from satisfactory: ‘On the basis of the last eight months, the Council has been able to accomplish very little, partly due to the lack of adequate financial support and partly due to the slowness with which Washington moves. There is no feeling of belonging to UNRRA Administration or that UNRRA expects any real contribution to be made by the voluntary organizations. Recently word has been received that there will be no further recruitment from voluntary organizations for several months.’58 The council never functioned effectively, in part because only three member organizations had sufficient financial resources to pay the salaries of their personnel seconded to UNRRA. Nonetheless, the council’s membership had good reasons to be disappointed with the results of its efforts: only four Canadians from the several dozen recommended by the Canadian council had been accepted by UNRRA.59 As for the Canadian government, it took an active interest in UNRRA’s direct recruitment of its nationals and made ‘every effort to facilitate recruitment in Canada.’60 The Administration had set up citizen’s panels in major

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Canadian cities to encourage interest in its recruitment campaigns, and the federal government itself set up a panel in Ottawa under the direction of C.P. Holmes to expedite the processing of applications. Moreover, the Canadian government was supportive of UNRRA’s request to assist the Administration by freeing up senior wartime administrators and military personnel: Andrew Cairns, Brigadier Charles M. Drury, Major-General Charles Stein, and Captain Lawrence J. Lismer were made available to UNRRA’s staff. It is quite clear, however, that when it came to key administrative appointments, the regular channels were circumvented; Pearson handled these directly.61 One UNRRA official, Leonard Marsh, evaluated the effectiveness of the recruiting process in Canada. Marsh’s reputation as the author of the 1943 Report on Social Security for Canada had led to an invitation to join UNRRA in the summer of 1944, and for the next three years he was to work in Washington, London, and Geneva as welfare adviser and then as information officer. In 1944 he returned to Ottawa to interview the Canadian recruits for UNRRA’s Balkan mission. After completing his interviews, he reported to Sir Frederick Leith-Ross that ‘while we have not completely filled our lines for the mission, we are really pleased with the people who are on their way or in training.’62 Another Canadian had a different view. George Mooney acknowledged the commendable performance of many UNRRA staff in the field but regretted that so many UNRRA staff from the United States and Canada were ill-equipped to deal with the task that awaited them because ‘they were loaded up with prejudices, animosities and a cocksureness that, sooner or later, was destined to bring us grief.’63 It was one thing to recruit candidates who looked good on paper but quite another to mould them into an effective international team in the field. Training sessions in Maryland were designed in part to screen out any candidates who might prove unsuitable upon closer evaluation. While Canadian UNRRAIDS were expected to have the appropriate qualifications for their particular work within the liberated countries, it was realized that those going overseas would require some training and orientation in order to be fully cognizant of what was required of them as international civil servants. Those debarking from North America received their preliminary orientation at the Headquarters Training Centre at the University of Maryland just outside Washington; further training was provided in the United Kingdom at Reading. UNRRAIDS serving within Germany’s displaced-persons operation received their final orientation at UNRRA’s staging centre located at Granville in France.

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McGeachy repeatedly identified the importance of establishing a thorough, well-coordinated training program to ensure the success of UNRRA’s work with displaced persons. In 1944 a talented Canadian with considerable insight and experience, Harry Cassidy, was named the director of the training program. An intelligent man of deep social conviction and compassion for all human beings irrespective of their economic status, Cassidy had an unrivalled mastery of administrative experience as well as a broad technical and historical knowledge of North American social welfare. A renowned housing expert, he had drafted the final report for the 1934 lieutenant governor’s Committee on Housing Conditions in Toronto, a landmark study of inner-city housing conditions at the time. Later, from 1934 to 1939, he had served as the director of social welfare and health in British Columbia. His most recent appointment before joining UNRRA had been as the head of the Department of Sociology at the University of California at Berkeley.64 A restless person with boundless energy, he was always on the move and remained with UNRRA for only eight months. Cassidy’s career coincided with the age of the new social scientist as academic and policy maker who believed that social science offered the basis for state-directed economic regeneration. During the 1930s, Cassidy developed a close friendship with an eclectic intellectual group, all leading social democrats, such as Frank Scott, Frank Underhill, Eugene Forsey, and Leonard Marsh, through his work with the League for Social Reconstruction (LSR) and the Cooperative Commonwealth Federation. Closely patterned after Britain’s Fabian Society, the LSR provided the most visible intellectual expression of democratic socialism from 1932 to 1942. In Cassidy’s view, social workers had become too complacent and ‘taken on the role of “the stretcher bearers of society” who responded to the casualties of the system but do little to strike at the roots of the problem: the deplorable economic conditions. He called on social workers to “wage unremitting war” against the social crime of poverty.’65 Early in July 1944, Cassidy lectured the new trainees on the purpose and goals of UNRRA. His lecture notes reveal a contemporary North American perspective on what UNRRA’s aims actually were, seen from within the organization.66 Cassidy told his audience that UNRRA had been created to bring aid to a war-battered world, a ‘shattered Europe and Asia’ which had endured ‘global war and unparalleled destruction, starvation [and] disease.’ He reminded his students that peace and prosperity were indivisible. Chaos in Europe and Asia, as well as desperate poverty and rampant unemployment, stood ‘in the way of [the]

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creation of political machinery essential to a peaceful world.’ Hearkening back to J.A. Hobson’s conclusion on the lessons of the First World War, ‘the Great War and the Bad Peace,’ Cassidy stressed that ‘winning the peace [will be] more difficult than winning the war.’ He made it clear in his lecture that UNRRA’s goal was to head off some of the catastrophes that had followed the Great War. He might also have been thinking of John Maynard Keynes’s eloquent warning in The Economic Consequences of the Peace, published at the end of that conflict: ‘For starvation, which brings to some lethargy and a helpless despair, drives other temperaments to the nervous instability of hysteria and to a mad despair. And these in their distress may overturn the remnants of organization and submerge civilisation itself in their attempts to satisfy desperately the overwhelming needs of the individual. This is the danger against which all our resources and courage and idealism must now cooperate.’67 Cassidy’s view of what constituted relief and rehabilitation embraced the North American vision of social work, which centred on removing the socio-economic causes of poverty and political instability. He told the trainees that it was not enough for UNRRA ‘to be a soup kitchen.’ The essence of UNRRA was to help people help themselves through the supply of essential consumer goods and services as well as medical care and repatriation. Cassidy quoted Churchill’s 1940 speech promising assistance to then occupied Europe and added that, because both British and American radio and print propaganda had continually reinforced this message, there was an ‘acceptance across Europe that we will help as soon as victory comes.’ UNRRA’s staff in the field would be called upon to implement these promises. Cassidy defended the concept of an international agency to accomplish these goals because it bypassed the problems of charity by any one nation, avoided political controversy over the relative size of national contributions, and removed the issue of post-war debt from the urgent task of relief and rehabilitation. Ideally, the international agency would also provide effective coordination of the relief effort. The precedent of the joint approach to the military tasks of war pointed to the promise of a joint international approach towards solving the problems of peace. Cassidy did not disguise the economic benefits of the relief program for the Allied nations. Clearing surplus stocks would ease post-war market disruption. There was also a ‘need for the resumption of trade to hold up [post-war] employment.’68 Cassidy’s lecture provided the students with an overall view of the objectives of UNRRA and their role as international civil servants in

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post-war recovery, but offered little of practical application. UNRRA’s official history concluded that the training period, while useful, would undoubtedly have been strengthened by the presence of more instructors at headquarters with actual field experience in 1944–5.69 Cassidy wrote an article for Canadian Welfare in July 1944, stating that ‘UNRRA is trying to define as well as it can the job that might be done so that there will be no delay or confusion in bringing aid to those who need it so desperately.’70 Several factors worked against UNRRA achieving that goal. The Allied victories in Europe in the summer of 1944 placed even more pressure on the fledgling UNRRA organization to deliver what the politicians had been promising. Cassidy wrote to his wife in the middle of August 1944: ‘The war is going so well that our job looms bigger and bigger ... Clearly we are to assume heavier responsibilities in Europe than had been contemplated originally.’71 He could also have added that, because of the rapid Allied advances, those responsibilities would be assumed sooner than some of the UNRRA planning had anticipated. Under the growing pressure to get teams into the field, it became increasingly difficult to maintain the same training standards; the normal training period was reduced from eight weeks to only two. Often students were called forward to seize a spot on scarce transport that suddenly became available before completing their training. UNRRA also lacked a uniform approach to training. Despite McGeachy’s warning against having ‘training on the European Continent conducted on a narrow basis,’ and the organization’s emphasis on including representatives of all the functional divisions at the training centre in France, there was little coordination between divisions.72 Nor was there much effective coordination between UNRRA’s training in Maryland, Reading, and Granville. The program remained fragmented, with the result that teams were called forward with considerable variation in the amount and focus of the training that members had received.73 McGeachy was a proponent of offering a training program for recruits that considered ‘the theoretical assumptions, and implications of what they would be doing.’ This reflected her own preference, which was a matter of contention between herself and Leith-Ross, that ‘specialists’ rather than generalists with practical experience be recruited.74 The debate, however, highlighted that none of UNRRA’s training staff or administration could draw upon actual experience in the field. Equally important, UNRRA’s staff lacked the benefit of field manuals

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and background information to guide and unify their approach in the early days in the field, when such resources were most needed. McGeachy had maintained that joining UNRRA was attractive to her because of the opportunity it presented to study the methods and experiences of welfare organizations in European countries,75 and she made these subjects a priority for the Welfare Division’s attention. But she was soon complaining of the difficulties of carrying out the division’s preparatory work in Washington in a virtual information vacuum: ‘It is extremely difficult in Washington to produce studies that reflect the atmosphere as well as the facts of the conditions in the occupied countries and therefore give an accurate picture of the problem with which we will deal.’76 Contrary to what her American critics claimed, her approach to post-war planning for her division was predicated upon the imperative of well-researched information as the basis for its future programming. Given that British personnel who had relevant experience during the Blitz could not be spared, she had proposed taking the American Martha Branscombe, a recognized authority in child welfare, to assist the work of the studies branch of the Welfare Division in London. When she was promptly informed that British regulations did not permit women to travel, she sought Leith-Ross’s assistance and ultimately passage for both women was obtained. That McGeachy had pressed her case to travel to London reflected her belief that the social-welfare studies would be useful only if they were based upon information gathered in Europe.77 As well, she hoped to curb the influence of the American government and other official organizations which ‘are extremely anxious that UNRRA shall convey American experience and standards abroad!’78 Leonard Marsh was sent to the European Regional Office in August 1944 to coordinate the work of London and Washington in undertaking the background studies that the Welfare Division required. Despite Marsh’s efforts, however, there was considerable duplication between the ERO and Washington.79 The Welfare Division launched a series of studies on subjects ranging from the psychological impact of wartime traumas on those displaced by war, especially children, to the special needs of women and girls. Marjorie Bradford directed the work of the committee that studied the special needs of women. One of its reports, which dealt with the thousands of women and young girls who had been forced into prostitution, made recommendations to ease their transition back home and relieve the stigma attached to illegitimate children. In 1945 McGeachy gained acceptance for the principle that an illegitimate child should be granted the same citizenship as the mother.80

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It was one thing to commission the studies; it was another to transfer the information to the field in a useable fashion. While these studies provided the basis for the field handbook Emergency Welfare Services, this was not ready for widespread distribution to field personnel until February 1945. And, even after it was distributed, members of McGeachy’s staff questioned its relevance and effectiveness.81 McGeachy herself, as late as 1946, continued to believe that the preparatory studies had proven valuable. These studies, she claimed, ‘constitute the first effort that nations have ever made to inquire into the social problems of an emergency period on an international basis’ and had provided models for ‘authorities in many countries in the training of their national corps of social workers and the re-establishment of their social services.’82 She also took pride in the fact that they had been forwarded for use in the United Nations.83 Nonetheless, countering the influence of the powerful American and British volunteer organizations and the diverse backgrounds of North American and continentally trained social workers to develop a more uniform approach to welfare work in the field quite simply required a longer time frame than UNRRA had. Only experience in the field would reveal whether the training that the welfare and displaced-persons officers received would be relevant. Looking back in later years, Canadian UNRRAIDS regarded their training as highly theoretical and of little practical applicability. After a week at UNRRA’s training centre in Maryland, one Canadian recruit remembered that he ‘was ready to go back to Canada and say that I didn’t want any part of it.’ He did not believe that his instructors knew anything about displaced-persons operations at all. ‘Some of the most fantastic stories were told.’ His courses, he contended, ‘gave me an idea of the general administration at UNRRA’ but were ‘of very little benefit to train people to do the actual work in the field.’ Other echoed those sentiments in a more restrained manner.84 Canadians entered the field, then, with the benefit neither of a welldefined organizational structure nor of a unified recruiting or training background. It was a shaky beginning for a new breed of international civil servant whose mission of providing relief to the victims of war was of a magnitude that few could have imagined. Conclusion The untried UNRRAIDS worked for a temporary organization with limited budgetary resources which was still forging its administrative structure and controls. They were rushed to the field to meet urgent

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relief and rehabilitation needs that would be accurately estimated only after the guns of war fell silent. While not apparent at the time, Canadians serving overseas with UNRRA would have to rely on their own resources and experience in the field. Given these circumstances, both they and the organization for which they worked would have to improvise to meet the changing circumstances as field operations progressed. The unfolding of UNRRA’s story reflects the personalities, personal and professional styles, beliefs, and experiences of the Canadians who worked for UNRRA. Each or all combined would often cause Canadian UNRRAIDS in the field to question the wisdom of policy directives and field instructions sent from headquarters. An international organization’s ultimate success is not merely a reflection of its policy-making process but is equally contingent upon its ability to exercise effective control over its field operations to realize its policy goals. As an interim organization, UNRRA did not succeed in creating the necessary prerequisite to achieve this – a stable administrative apparatus staffed by a highly qualified staff.

5 UNRRA Takes Command: The First Field Operations

The Atlantic City conference had raised expectations that relief would soon be available to those who had suffered unbearable hardships during the war. A misinformed public failed to realize, however, that UNRRA’s mandate covered only those countries that lacked the ability to pay and that its supplies could be delivered only as fast as victory could be achieved on the battlefield. One of the results was that ‘if 1943 could be called UNRRA’s year of organization, 1944 was the year of effort and frustration.’1 In the eyes of many military commanders, UNRRA was just another unwanted layer in the command chain; their focus was on winning the war, not planning civilian relief at a time when there was a worldwide shortage of supplies, food, and transport. UNRRA Director General Lehman scrambled to obtain concessions from the military and fend off the public’s criticism of UNRRA for doing so little. Anxious to begin UNRRA’s relief work, in March 1944 he travelled to Cairo to hammer out arrangements for its Balkan mission, whereby the British military authorities handed over all of their properties and facilities without charge and simultaneously concluded an agreement that allowed UNRRA to assist the civilian populations in Greece, Yugoslavia, and Albania during the military period. But, as it turned out, UNRRA overestimated the number of personnel required and underestimated the length of time that UNRRA staff would sit idle in Cairo before the military situation would allow them to proceed with their assignments. Staging the Operations UNRRA’s first field operations almost erupted into a public scandal that ultimately was avoided only by arranging the Balkan mission’s

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dissolution. In this regard, the stories of two Canadian women named Brown who served in UNRRA’s Middle East displaced-persons operations provide valuable insight into the trials and tribulations UNRRA faced in these early days of its work. UNRRA purported to create a new international civil service, based upon gender equality and a strictly neutral international perspective. Yet the case studies of the two Browns reveal what it was really like for women to work and socialize within the confines set for them as members of UNRRA’s staff. On the one hand, despite discernable personality differences, both were ambitious career-minded women, prepared to challenge any perceived pretense that their gender should stand in their way. In both cases, too, their work with UNRRA would become entangled in civil upheaval and repeated administrative reorganizations. On the other hand, the two strong-willed women had remarkably different professional experiences with UNRRA. One was held in high esteem by her UNRRA superiors while the other was threatened with demotion towards the end of her career. Their stories illuminate how personality and leadership styles either ameliorated or exacerbated UNRRA’s administrative inadequacies and the challenges field workers confronted within their local environments. Recovering the story of the Canadian UNRRAIDS involved in the Balkan mission is difficult since the mission’s early records are either incomplete or have been accidentally lost or (as in the case of those dealing with its relationship with the Allied military authorities) deliberately destroyed ‘because they were too acrimonious for publication.’2 Fortunately, the two Canadians’ private papers survived. Mabel Geldard-Brown’s almost daily account of her life during the outbreak of civil war in Greece provides a rare window into the birth pains experienced by UNRRA in mounting its first field operation. Just as valuable are the diaries of Elizabeth Brown, or, as she became known, ‘Miss UNRRA Brown.’ If Geldard-Brown thought her work in Greece was politically sensitive, Elizabeth Brown believed that she had UNRRA’s most difficult individual caseload.3 Written as a ‘relaxation and an outlet’ from the pressures of work during her years in Jerusalem, her diaries – she said – ‘included very little on the job or Jewish side of things.’4 Nonetheless, they later became the basis for a draft manuscript entitled ‘With UNRRA in Jerusalem 1944–1947.’ Together with her official reports and letters to her family, these diaries provide a valuable personal and professional record of her UNRRA years. The story of the Canadians within the Balkan mission would unfold

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within an administrative structure challenged from all sides. With the signing of the ‘Cairo Agreement’ on 3 April 1944, UNRRA took over the financial and administrative responsibility for the refugee camps in Egypt, Palestine, and Syria, established to care for the Balkan residents driven from their homes by the German and Italian invasions in 1942 and 1943 and previously administered by MERRA. The decision to keep the head of MERRA, Sir William Matthews, as the chief of the UNRRA Balkan mission proved unwise.5 He never entirely accepted UNRRA’s authority over what he regarded as his private fiefdom and provided little direction or support to the head of the Greek mission, Laird Archer, once civil war broke out in Greece. UNRRA’s relationship with the military proved even more acrimonious. In negotiating the Cairo Agreement, Lehman had refused to accept the integration of UNRRA personnel into the military organization, insisting that UNRRA serve as an agent of the occupying forces while maintaining intact its own chain of command.6 The lines of operating authority between them remained contentious and subject to further negotiations for some time to come. Furthermore, the Cairo Council of Voluntary Societies, which had assisted MERRA, ‘found the addition of UNRRA confusing and tended to regard the new personnel and regulations with suspicion.’7 Even more significant, UNRRA accepted the additional responsibility for the supervision of all refugee movements throughout the Middle East, further complicating its relationship with military authorities upon whom the Administration was dependent for supplies and transport.8 Clearly, UNRRA faced an imposing task of overcoming old habits and loyalties to establish its operating authority within countries still under military occupation. It was an inauspicious beginning for what was heralded as a new type of international organization staffed by impartial civil servants. UNRRA’s Balkan mission compounded its difficulties by establishing a complex administrative structure with unclear lines of operating authority which fed the jurisdictional battles between the functional divisions at the field level. Geldard-Brown’s letter to a colleague in the Displaced Persons Division in Washington reveals the level of discord that existed within the Balkan mission right from the beginning. She wrote: ‘Well most of the time, possibly 50% of it seems to be given over to fighting to get what we want ... Many departments are just beginning to realize that the D.P. work is something different and cannot be confined to or brought under any particular district.’9 Others similarly complained that the Welfare Division’s affairs were extremely difficult

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to untangle in the ‘awkwardly arranged administration.’10 The debate, whether the Balkan mission should be organized by functional division or by country, raged throughout its entire history, echoing the power struggle at headquarters between McGeachy and Fred Hoehler. From headquarters down to its first field mission in the Balkans, then, UNRRA’s administration was still in its formative period, with lines of responsibility inside the organization and outside with its partners being hotly contested. If the history of the Balkan mission is a story riddled with administrative ineptitude and confusion, it is equally one of personal and professional animosities among the UNRRAIDS themselves. GeldardBrown, who was one of the first UNRRA workers to arrive in Cairo, used her letters to vent the frustration felt by many UNRRAIDS there over the long months of waiting. She was impatient ‘to pull up my tent pegs here’ since ‘one would so much like to get up against the real thing and have a chance to test one’s mettle.’11 The combination of an unclear agenda and aimless lingering further complicated the already difficult task of creating a unified staff in readiness for the day when it would be called forward. With UNRRA in Greece: Mabel Geldard-Brown Seconded from the International Migration Service (IMS), an international non-governmental organization created at a world conference in Stockholm in 1921, Mabel Geldard-Brown was the first Canadian social worker chosen to work in UNRRA’s Balkan mission. Well educated (a graduate of the London School of Economics), broadly experienced, and a gifted linguist, she had most recently been the secretary of the Montreal Regional Advisory Committee of the Dependents’ Board of Trustees but had had already served as the IMS service director in Athens after the First World War. She exuded the type of self-confidence that UNRRA officials initially found attractive, and her unbending determination, which drove both her professional and private relationships while working for UNRRA, had its early admirers too. Certainly, it was often productive, yet it unfortunately also had a dark side. Given her strong personality, controversy would figure prominently in her subsequent UNRRA career. After much soul-searching, Geldard-Brown acquiesced to UNRRA’s courting and signed what she called her ‘death warrant’ because it meant that ‘I shall be assigned to a position with responsibility for a sec-

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tion of the Balkan Mission ... with the possibilities of promotion.’ Her candid explanation of her decision to the IMS director exposes two of her chief characteristics – ambition coloured by unveiled scorn towards less qualified Americans who had already been appointed to supervisory positions: ‘UNRRA feels that for the benefit of the Administration, people with experience in the field of D.P., should not hold one of the 14 positions of District Supervisor, but should be available for promotion should a still more strategic position become vacant through dismissal as for example failure to measure up to the job.’12 Well before she arrived in Cairo, there were early indications of her future restlessness and disdain for the Administration’s incompetence and the naive idealism and adventurism of her American colleagues. She believed that her experience after the First World War had apparently made her a better judge than UNRRA of what was necessary for working in the field. She lamented that, despite her urging, there had not been more emphasis in the UNRRA training program on the physical hardships to be expected during the period of military occupation. ‘It would give a better opportunity to judge who should be weeded out if they could not take it.’ She was openly condescending towards both the Administration and its recruits; neither seemed able to reach sensible decisions about even the simplest of matters, like the kind of clothing required for relief work in the field. Why a good designer could not have been asked to design a simple garment ... which would not call for woolen skirt or fur lined coats, is just one of these inexplicable things that will never be explained. Won’t the nurses have a lovely time if they have to care for let us say typhus patients? In the meantime, we continue to wear a weird collection of garments, ranging from primrose yellow to khaki, through pale pink up to spotted and flowered prints. As for some of the ‘useful’ clothing brought by this particular bunch, I just wonder what the articles will look like a few months hence, and whether, for example, the long white trailing housecoat will keep its colour texture in the climate and under the conditions which we may expect to find.13

In short, she was a hardened humanitarian and that, she believed, gave her an edge over many of her idealistic and untried UNRRA co-workers. Those personality traits would encumber her future professional and personal relationships within the Greek mission. Even before she set sail, both the Administration and Mabel Geldard-

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Brown had an opportunity to assess what they could expect from each other in their future relationship. Believing herself to be eminently more qualified than many of her fellow American UNRRAIDS, she expected equal pay and opportunity for promotion. Yet, despite her fervent protests, she was not compensated at the same rate as her fellow American welfare workers. She was to receive a salary of $4,500 instead of the normal $5,000 because she was a Canadian.14 In the end, she settled for the possibility of a future salary review and promotion. She departed for the Balkans fully expecting UNRRA to recognize and reward her expertise. But it remained to be determined if an internationally recruited staff, with different salary scales and professional training, would meld into an effective international team. Although the members of UNRRA’s staff were prohibited from discussing salary levels, human nature and the long months of waiting in Cairo inevitably led to comparisons being made, exposing the widely varying salary scales and differing conditions of service for voluntary agency workers and among UNRRAIDS from different nations. Geldard-Brown was part of the first UNRRA staff who came into Athens with the British troops under General Ronald Scobie in mid-October 1944. The evidence of Hitler’s scorched-earth tactics was all too evident in the mass starvation they found everywhere. The Nazi occupation left not only the country’s economy but its former political life in shambles.15 On 18 October, George Papandreou and the government-in-exile were brought in on a British warship to form a party of national unity. However, the British-backed coalition of the Communists’ National Liberation Front–National Popular Liberation Army (EAM-ELAS) and royalist guerrilla forces calling themselves the Greek Democratic National Army (EDES) – the latter had resisted the Nazi occupation – dissolved only three months after Athens was liberated. Civil war erupted on 3 December 1944 when the EAM-ELAS set up a provisional government that rejected the Greek king and his government-in-exile. The Communist guerrillas’ refusal to disband their military forces engulfed the country in a bitter civil war that was eventually quelled by British forces in February 1945. After the elections, in which the Communists did not participate, the Greek king was restored to his throne. But the new Greek government remained weak, ultimately hindering UNRRA’s ability to complete its programs. In summary, after numerous delays to the start of the Greek mission’s real work, and already faced with considerable administrative and logistical challenges, the members of the mission were confronted with the final challenge – civil war and ultimately, after its conclusion, continued political instability.

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Geldard-Brown was anxious to record the events in Constitution Square on 3 December 1944, ‘a day of tenseness and bloodshed’ that led up to the outbreak of civil war in Athens, ‘before the impressions are blurred.’ Earlier that morning, all alone on the roof of the Hotel Acropole, where most of the UNRRA staff was billeted, she had watched as the planes circled overhead: ‘There must have been at least 20 or more taking part in this psychological warfare.’16 Throughout the day, other UNRRA staff members returned to tell tales of seeing the police firing from headquarters on the crowd as it had broken through their security cordon into the town square. Over the next few days, as demonstrations continued to erupt throughout the city, it became increasingly clear to the UNRRA staff that both their professional and personal lives had changed dramatically. Reluctantly, Geldard-Brown had already cancelled her planned trip to Kiphissia to visit the ‘Eagles Nest,’ an orphanage for the children from the burnt-out villages. As a general strike paralysed the city, UNRRA’s staff was forced to take over the housekeeping chores and meal preparations at their hotel. More important, Geldard-Brown was receiving disturbing first-hand accounts – like that from Chryssoula, the sixty-two-year-old maid on her floor: ‘She said that if she worked, the communists might do harm to her two sons.’ It remained uncertain how UNRRA’s staff would function in a country engulfed by fear and violence on all sides. Geldard-Brown’s restlessness only increased as it became obvious that women were going to be sidelined from volunteering their services. She found it intolerable that ‘we who are just as able to help as some of the men should not be allowed to just because we were not born to wear trousers.’17 Tension within the mission would continue to mount over the ensuing days. As the violence escalated all around their hotel, a growing rift along national lines within the mission’s ranks left Geldard-Brown ostracized from the majority of her colleagues. Laird Archer’s first briefing to his staff quickly deteriorated into a divisive debate, centring on the American UNRRAIDS’ refusal to become ‘the agents’ of the British military. Any vestiges of collegiality quickly disappeared as Geldard-Brown jumped into the fray by criticizing her American colleagues for their unjust censure of the British: the Americans are ‘most critical of British policy, yet so far the British have not fired. It is true that they have tanks and machine guns in the streets, but these are only as threats and have not been used. Most of the shooting has been done by the police.’18 It was this growing schism within the mission staff that perhaps makes explicable her conviction that civil war was a valuable experience,

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‘which will teach, or should teach the American personnel a little about a political situation in a European country.’ Americans, in GeldardBrown’s opinion, were ‘too inclined to judge things by American standards.’ It was a ‘good thing that they have had less prepared meals, than they have had for the last two weeks. Some of them require a great deal more discomfort to test their worth.’ Her subsequent diary entries leave no doubt that her own empathy for the British predicament left her increasingly estranged from and guarded towards most of her fellow UNRRA workers. Her diary entry for the night of 5 December 1944 recorded her reaction when she was awakened from a ‘sound sleep as the firing seemed to take place just under my window.’ Hearing the sound of vehicles and ‘English Tommies,’ she could not ‘resist the temptation to jump out of bed and see what was going on.’ At first she could not make out what was said but then she ‘heard a Yorkshire man’s voice give the order: ‘“Back up that oop [sic] that three tonner and pick oop that man.”’ Unfortunately, she did not hear the answer as to whether the dead man had been carrying a weapon before the Tommies armed the truck and made their way back up the street. Significantly, she chose only to share what she had seen and heard with Miss Baggallay, ‘a splendid Englishwoman’ in charge of the public-health nursing staff, who was a ‘kindred spirit as she cannot find a common meeting-ground with the majority of the UNRRA personnel, especially the American members.’19 The decision of some of the American UNRRA personnel to pin large American flags on their pockets, ‘an absurd display of national feeling,’ made her ‘blood boil.’20 Archer’s continued tolerance of this ‘disgraceful form of exhibitionism’ was ‘just one more indication of the poorness of the leadership.’21 The dissension continued to grow as rumours of defiance swirled throughout the mission: ‘Amongst the information which has come to my ears, is that a number of UNRRA personnel have signed a petition to the effect that they had not come out to work under the British military and if they could not be neutral, they desired to return home.’22 By 11 December 1944, Archer was forced to make a decision about the Greek mission’s future after UNRRA staff members came under heavy fire while helping the International Red Cross evacuate some children from the orphanage in Pangratti. The next day, Archer, acting unilaterally, divorced UNRRA from the military. His decision effectively nullified the arrangements with the British military authorities that had been laboriously renegotiated in late November by the deputy

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director of UNRRA, Commander Robert G.A. Jackson. Geldard-Brown was originally supportive of Archer’s decision, assuming that UNRRA staff would still be available for advice and consultation. She was therefore surprised and overtly displeased the next day to learn that she was included in the first group scheduled to leave! Determined to remain in Greece, Geldard-Brown waged a persistent campaign to be included among the ‘volunteers with special qualifications’ who could be used by UNRRA’s health or welfare divisions. Impatient for answers, she forced her way into Laird Archer’s meetings with Greek officials to determine who would stay and how UNRRA would operate. When she faced continued resistance, she confronted those in charge, like Sir Michael Creagh (who was responsible for heading up UNRRA’s work with the voluntary agencies), complaining bitterly that she would not have been recalled if her superior, Evert Barger, had been there or if she had not been a woman; ‘Sir Michael said that it would not have been made a bit of difference ... Sir Michael said that he did not consider me as a woman, but only in light as a member of the Displaced Pop’s Division and repeated that the same decision would have applied if E.B. [Evert Barger] had been there.’23 Her persistence paid off when Glen Leete, the head of the welfare section, finally agreed to submit her name to be loaned temporarily to the Joint Relief Committee (JRC) for the duration of the civil war. In the meantime, while her application was under consideration by the British military, she procrastinated, feigning that she could not be packed in time to depart with the first group. Once again, her nagging paid off. On 19 December she was granted permission by the military authorities to remain behind as member of the UNRRA’s Child Welfare Division. She was also to continue to act as deputy director to represent the Displaced Persons Division in various contacts with consular offices, Greek government officials, and military authorities in Athens. In explaining to her superior her desire to stay – ‘to keep a toe hold here’ for the Displaced Persons Division – she understated the extent of her lobbying effort, claiming: ‘After some little maneuvering, my name was included on the list of those permitted to remain behind.’24 Her relentless lobbying and tenacity were a prelude to her mode of operation in the days ahead. Mabel Geldard-Brown’s work during the civil war, while of great benefit to the Greek people, did little to improve her professional or personal relationships with the mission’s staff. During her first assignment, assisting the JRC in Athens from 20 to 22 December 1944, she clashed with the ambition of the British military to improve its public

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image at the cost of the planned distribution of food in Athens. (It was an irony of war that the Nazis had not bombed Athens but the Allies had.) Her plea for an orderly distribution of soup, starting with those who had waited hours in the cold since the early morning hour at the designated centres and were duly registered, fell on deaf ears. The British officer in charge was more concerned to ensure that adequate supplies of soup remained for General Scobie to give out personally later in the day. So, instead of refurbishing their tattered public image, ‘the British distributed soup from the backs of lorries using policemen with rifles to keep the crowds back.’25 In the end, food distribution would be left in the hands of the military, with no further participation by either Mabel Geldard-Brown or any other UNRRA personnel. Her continued confrontations with the British military may have contributed to the decision to transfer her from headquarters to field work. No matter what reasons led to the decision, she was quite satisfied to be reassigned to work in Athens under the direction of Dr Edgar M. Wahlberg, since she believed that ‘this is the area where the immediate work should be done.’26 Whatever her reservations about working with Wahlberg, who ‘has been flying hither and thither in an almost haphazard fashion,’ she found the prospect preferable to having to deal with the military: ‘Everything is so terribly disorganized that for the time being his hit and miss methods may be the only way in which to be sure that at least something is done. He should, however, as far as possible endeavour to get some order out of the chaotic mess being made by ML [military]. The latter have no real experience in an emergency relief situation and should leave the organizing of this to those with qualifications or should at least listen to their advice.’27 Although at times she would continue to think that Wahlberg was running around ‘like a hen on a hot griddle,’ her respect for ‘Wally,’ as he liked to be known, grew because he was getting things done even when it meant risking his personal safety, ‘which is more than many who have been sitting around theorizing.’28 Wahlberg, who initially had formed a favourable impression of Geldard-Brown, was grateful for the added assistance.29 Yet, true to form, she would soon be at loggerheads with UNRRA and Greek bureaucratic types who preferred doing nothing to assisting her with the job at hand. Her failure to clear her activities or decisions would test her relationship with Wahlberg. Her next assignment was to set up a temporary billeting service to deal with those Greeks left homeless when the outbreak of civil war turned Athens into a battlefield. Each house was a hiding place and a

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fortress, and even hospitals, sanatoria, prisons, and schools were turned into armed strongholds that remained under crossfire for weeks. Under such conditions, ‘terrorized, terrified, human caravans flocked day and night towards the centre of town, the only spot that had remained free.’ The sight of these destitute refugees was deeply imprinted on the UNRRA staff who remained in Athens: it was heartwrenching for them to see that ‘worn faces, hungry looking children half naked, families with only a small bundle of cloths, all that they had been able to save from their shattered homes, crowded the streets seeking shelter and food. Rain and cold added to the suffering.’ ELAS’s decision to drag thousands of hostages – men, women, and children – with them into the mountainous regions as they retreated from Athens only contributed to the human misery. By 18 January, five hundred hostages and sick people, ‘whose condition was so appalling that most had to be taken to the hospital immediately,’ had been brought to the UNRRA centre seeking assistance.30 The centre, which began to lodge war refugees from inside Athens, soon found its mandate expanded to include the returning hostages. It was over three weeks before Geldard-Brown succeeded in locating suitable premises, dislodged the squatters, and secured supplies through the military authorities and the International Red Cross. Even then she had to wrestle for several more days with the Greek ministries to get the building requisitioned as a clearing house for refugees. Despite all these difficulties with Greek officials, she still believed that she had opened the facility faster than others could have: ‘Having been here before, I have less difficulty than some in adjusting to them. When one goes to see a high official, one barges straight into his office and, if he is there, he is usually surrounded by many other people, each concerned with his own particular interest. Everybody listens to what everybody else has to say and even at times interject remarks or offers suggestions.’31 Similarly, she found the building for the shelter by randomly stopping people in the street and explaining what she wanted. Whether or not her negotiating style truly matched the Greek temperament, being given a free rein suited Geldard-Brown perfectly. Yet her straightforward negotiating style was not useful in overcoming the bureaucratic inertia of the local UNRRA financial administrator, George Darling. As late as 1 January 1945, she was complaining bitterly that she had not been able to open the shelter because Darling was proving irritatingly obstructionist. ‘He is one of those who make use of his authority to get things for himself and also incidentally is yellow; he

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is holding up the C.C.S. [the temporary billeting service, eventually called the Central Clearing Station] project because funds are required and he is never there to discuss matters.’32 In her estimation, this was ‘just another instance of Finance and Administrative Department interfering in the operations of a program.’33 What she failed to take into account was the difficulties Darling faced in trying to maintain some kind of financial order without any office space. In fact, the ‘physical organization of the UNRRA Mission had gone to pieces during the Revolution.’34 Not to be deterred by the lack of funds, Geldard-Brown used her own cigarette rations to procure cleaning staff and supplies.35 Even when UNRRA funds were released, she soon discovered that with no open shops, she would have to rely on her practical ingenuity to equip the billeting centre. Empty milk tins became cups, Kilm cans (canned meat like spam or corned beef) became plates, and wooden milk cases were turned into beds. The temporary billeting centre opened and, except on those days when no one dared to venture out from the Acropole Hotel because of the fighting, Mabel Brown would care for all those who came through the doors. Darling’s procrastination may have reflected the senior mission staff’s growing concern that Geldard-Brown’s activities were drawing perilously close to appearing to take sides. Geldard-Brown viewed her job as helping individuals whose immediate needs took precedence, whatever their political persuasion was. UNRRA officials, however, were worried that her involvement with the central clearing house might jeopardize its future relations with whatever government emerged (Greek officials wanted to use the centre for screening out returning ELAS supporters posing as hostages36). And, in fact, Geldard-Brown’s diary provides clear evidence of her constant vigilance to ensure that refugees who came through the doors, irrespective of their political persuasion, received the same medical care and food.37 Moreover, she repeatedly had to remind Greek police that UNRRA could not be a party to retaining suspect refugees because of their political affiliation. Claiming to have upheld UNRRA’s neutrality, and thereby ensuring the Greek mission’s credibility to carry out its work when peace was restored, she reported: ‘I insisted that we were an international organization, entirely neutral.’38 Geldard-Brown had done everything she could to open the centre as quickly as possible and would continue to urge its continuation after the cessation of hostilities. She made an eloquent plea on behalf of the Greek people, many of whom in returning to Athens had walked

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‘through the mountains without shoes, sometimes knee deep in snow,’ in a personal letter to one of her superiors, Emerson Holcombe: ‘How they ever survived is one of the marvels of this most unfortunate and tragic Civil wars. Sometime, perhaps, it may not be before you arrive here, you will learn more about the suffering of these people.’ She argued that the weakness of the current Greek government increased the need for the centre, whatever the costs: ‘I think we will have to face the fact that the Greeks may not do the “desirable” thing, at least immediately ... You will, see for instance, that someone other than the Greek government or the Ministry of Social Welfare had to make provisions for hostages. There was of course another reason for that, namely at the time we started there was no such thing as Ministry of Social Welfare.’39 It was surely with tongue in cheek that she ended a letter to Evert Barger by assuring him that ‘I have not been quite idle.’40 There was enough human suffering to occupy all of the UNRRA staff who had stayed behind. Geldard-Brown always believed that UNRRA had made the right decision in allowing its health and welfare staff to stay in Greece. Her work with the returning hostages outside Athens further substantiated her claim that UNRRA’s presence benefited both the organization itself and the Greek people. According to her diary entry, she ‘had somewhat of a strenuous time, with a lot crowded into a few days, and living conditions to say the least of it, primitive’ as she made her way through treacherous winter conditions on winding mountain roads, sometimes fording streams, where the bridges had been destroyed, to travel up country to Thebes, Levadia, and Lamia for five days from 17 to 21 January 1945. She had been temporarily loaned to the refugee section of the Greek Red Cross to help assess the flow of hostages being released by ELAS. Specifically, she was to investigate what kind of coordination existed between the voluntary agencies and military for processing and screening out the hostages from the refugees (mainly ELAS deserters). It was hoped that the screening process would be completed before their arrival in Athens to prevent further needless delays in returning the hostages home. What she discovered, however, were two converging swarms: the hostages and refugees fleeing to Athens, and the voluntary organizations, Greek Red Cross and military, accompanied by American war correspondents, rushing up country to meet the refugees’ needs in a totally uncoordinated effort. ‘Everybody,’ she reported, ‘seemed to come to Levadia within a space of 24 hours.’ Nobody seemed to be aware of what the other was doing. Yet the lack of coordi-

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nation in the relief effort was not the most disconcerting discovery of her trip; that problem paled in comparison to the sight of ‘the terrible condition of the refugees, ragged, dirty, inadequately clad and hungry living in squalor.’ The Greek Red Cross hostel building in Levadia was ‘old,’ in ‘a bad state of repair’ and ‘not weather proof against the cold.’ Although it ‘boasted an inside toilet, this was quite inadequate when large number of hostages arrived, and the stench of the place was dreadful, as was the yard in front of the building, which had been resorted to as an outside toilet.’ The refugees were without blankets or mattresses until Geldard-Brown intervened and sought the assistance of the British military. ‘They found the sacks filled with straw and the blankets issued to them so much more comfortable than the cement floors they had slept on so often that they were pathetic in their gratitude.’41 Even worse was her discovery that the screening and transport process led to situations where the ‘hostages’ were housed with members of the dreaded OPHA, an ELAS execution squad, who had committed atrocities against their own family and friends. After a flurry of conferences with the voluntary-organization representatives, military officials, local officials, and the Greek Red Cross, Geldard-Brown reported that the referral and screening system was streamlined and the contacts between the Greek Red Cross and military authorities were widened to ensure a steady flow of supplies. And finally arrangements had been made to separate the hostages from the refugees as they were processed down the line to Athens. Typically, Geldard-Brown sought permission to prolong her stay after the fact. This would not be the last time when she extended a stay or ignored orders to return because she believed there was still work to be done. While she had a good relationship with ‘Wally’ Wahlberg, others would not be as tolerant of her free-wheeling style. Exercising leadership over a mission staff that was already seriously divided would become increasingly difficult as the reality of living and working in a country torn by civil war exacted its toll. Several factors contributed to the psychological strain felt by Geldard-Brown and the other members of the Greek mission. Sleep-deprived nights, and workdays when reports were written against the background noise of nearby gunfire, screaming sirens, and bombs, were trying enough. But making the daily trek with the UNRRA cars through the mine-strewn roads to reach the office or deliver relief supplies were all constant reminders that death lurked around the corner. Geldard-Brown recorded her own narrow escape: ‘The Gods were kind today or at least they may think I

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still have some purpose to fulfill on this earth as they left me to carry on ... the truth is that a shot had come through the shutter just where my head had been and shattered the glass and the mirror of the dressing table. I found the squashed bullet on the floor at the foot of the bed.’42 Despite her own narrow miss, she remained intolerant of those among the mission staff who showed fear in the face of danger: it was, she believed, simply the cost of carrying on humanitarian relief during war. Yet other UNRRAIDS were not as fortunate as Geldard-Brown: the death of a Colonel Sheppard on 30 December 1944 in a car bombing left the mission staff further demoralized. In addition to the constant physical danger, Geldard-Brown’s diary entries indicated her growing sense of guilt. She found it painful ‘to know that children are without food and not give them a tin of milk.’ The hardened humanitarian might rationalize that ‘it is our duty to keep fit, as we come out to do a particular job and if we give up some of it we are lowering our resistance and that, moreover, if we fall ill we are liable to be much more of a burden and hindrance than help to the organization.’43 But her diary recorded several instances where she shared her rations. As for her colleagues, the stress of carrying on international relief work manifested itself in different ways: some resigned or requested transfers, others sought solace in alcohol. The lack of neutrality among his staff further undermined Archer’s control over the mission. There is little doubt that some members were on friendly terms with the ELAS boys; as Geldard-Brown recorded in her diary, UNRRA personnel were seen smoking and posing for photographs with them. Such shortsighted actions irritated Geldard-Brown because ‘in behaving as they did they were expressing approval of one side and not preserving their neutral attitude.’44 Despite her contention that she had upheld UNRRA’s policy of strict neutrality in the workplace, her diary entries reveal that her avowed neutrality did not extend to the private sphere. The entry describing her efforts to share her feelings about the ‘British boys’ held prisoner at Larima indicates the growing intolerance and strained relationships found among UNRRA’s remaining staff: When I told of what they were enduring, Mevrette Smith calmly said: ‘Will they be sent to Siberia?’ When I asked why and mentioned that it would not be in any case easy for them to send them there, she said: ‘why not? They could if they wanted to and it would be only fair that they should be treated in the same way as those taken by the British.’ I could not help but

140 A World Uprooted retort: ‘You are very anti-British aren’t you?’ – to which she replied: ‘I would not say that I am anti-British but I am pro-Greek, and the British are preventing them from having the government they want. I told her also that I am pro-Greek, but that I was not pro K.K.E. nor in sympathy with that section of the EAM .... Mevrette Smith and Eunice Minton are so rabid on the subject that they can see only one side of the picture and the least said on the subject seemed to be the better part of valour.45

Geldard-Brown’s anti-Americanism, vented within the privacy of her diary, exhibited a particularly unattractive side when, on more than one occasion, it took the form of derogatory stereotypes of Jewish Americans.46 Once, when faced with unnecessary ‘obstructionism’ on George Darling’s part, she wrote: ‘This little East side New York Jew of Russian extraction is giving himself airs these days, just because a certain amount of authority has fallen on his shoulder – responsibility that he doesn’t seem capable of carrying.’47 Most of the staff, including Geldard-Brown, had supported the breaking off of ties with the military, but the decision to allow some of the staff to remain deepened the schism within the Greek mission’s ranks. The staff who returned to Cairo were bitter and petitioned for a change in the mission’s administration – a petition that Geldard-Brown wholeheartedly supported: ‘I am sure that any of us who remained behind in Greece would back any plan for re-organization of the administrative services.’ She regarded the present machinery as ‘cumbersome and clogged and consequently, valuable time is needlessly wasted in getting things adjusted.’48 But she was especially critical of Archer’s performance during the crisis; she remained convinced that ‘what the Mission requires is a good strong head, and one who will make decisions. It is always difficult to pin Archer down and his job of running the Mission is too big for him to tackle.’49 Others shared her negative appraisal of Archer’s leadership, characterizing him as ‘a very fine mild mannered man’ whom the ‘bulk of the mission staff didn’t have confidence in.’50 While he was sympathetic towards the British, the majority of his staff was not. Over time, the split along national lines – which Geldard-Brown’s own behaviour exacerbated – undermined Archer’s leadership.51 By December 1944, UNRRA headquaters, fearing that the situation in both Greece and the MERRA camps was in danger of becoming a public scandal, had decided that radical surgery was required in the Balkan mission.52 The decision was taken to liquidate the Balkan mission and

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establish a small Middle East office in March 1945. There would be separate missions for Greece, Yugoslavia, and Albania, which would report directly to the European Regional Office. The office in Cairo was retained to run the camps, administer the repatriation of their occupants and other displaced persons in the area, and handle supply operations in the Middle East. The fiasco in the Balkans exposed the need for greater control over UNRRA’s field operations. As noted in the previous chapter, in the summer of 1945, during the first major administrative restructuring, the welfare and displaced-persons divisions were merged in the European Regional Office, though they remained segregated in Washington for another year. The events culminating in that decision displayed a lack of effective leadership at all levels of UNRRA. Washington had failed to ensure the integrity of the Administration in negotiating the terms under which UNRRA would absorb MERRA. Moreover, the jurisdictional squabbling between the displaced-persons and welfare divisions was echoed within the ranks of the Balkan mission. Frederick Daniels, Mary Craig McGeachy’s Washington deputy, arrived in Cairo in January 1945, just ‘when things seem to be reaching something of a crescendo if not a crisis.’ His report censured several aspects of the Balkan operations: its jurisdictional tangle of functions and responsibilities between the welfare and displaced-persons divisions; the misallocation of staff, many of whom sat cooling their heels while other senior administrative staff were overworked; and the ‘utter lack of supplies and equipment of a fundamental nature’ despite the fact that the requisitions for these ‘tragically needed supplies’ had been approved the previous summer. Daniels raised the question of how effective the reorganization would be: ‘There is not what one would regard as too orderly and well established an organization to take apart ... the present proposal doesn’t contemplate leaving here in the Cairo centre ... any welfare supervisory or directive personnel.’ His report chronicled the sense of isolation and lack of direction that the Balkans’ welfare staff experienced, having ‘received rather scattered and by no means complete material from either Washington or London. There is much concern here over the lack of welfare content in relation to the Missions and any guidance, in this respect, from Washington or London.’53 Despite all of the criticism levelled at the Greek mission, there is no doubt that the continued presence of individual members of UNRRA staff during the civil war benefited the Greek people. UNRRA as an organization, however, was still unproven. In early February 1945

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Harry Greenstein, director of welfare for the Balkan mission, summarized the task that lay ahead to his staff: ‘Most people are looking at Greek operations to find out just how UNRRA is going to come through. I cannot help but believe that what is going on in Greece at the present time is going to determine, in the final analysis, that everything we have fought for in this war is going to be worthwhile, and will stand for permanent peace. Whether or not UNRRA can work together and rise above political and military developments will establish the values for which we have fought.’54 As the administration stabilized under the auspices of the new Middle East Office, the members of the Greek mission settled back into more normal and productive work routines. In the spring of 1945 UNRRA began the repatriation of the refugees from the Middle East camps. After overseeing the reception of some of the first Greek refugees from the Middle East, Mabel Geldard-Brown was called upon to carry out several different but equally politically sensitive field surveys for the Displaced Persons Division. As always, she approached each of these assignments with the same determination and independent spirit. In June 1945 one of these assignments took her to Region D, headquartered near Ioannia, Greece. Her investigation ended up centring on the politically sensitive question of the Greek political refugees fleeing from southern Albania, where Greece still aspired to regain control over northern Epirus. Yet, after a month, she still had not received a response to her request to UNRRA officials in Athens for instructions as to what UNRRA’s policy was in respect to Greek political refugees from Albania. Her report urged caution and careful consideration before UNRRA extended special treatment to these political refugees for fear of triggering resentment from other local groups left homeless or in need in the aftermath of war. One can only surmise that this mission was not successful, given her subsequent request to Evert Barger for a hearing of her side of the story: ‘You will remember there was some criticism about my reports which I sent in and my enquiries as regards to UNRRA policy in dealing with the Greeks from Southern Albania. It was then decided that after I had submitted my report it would be further discussed with Col. White. This meeting never took place, and as I feel an entirely wrong impression has been created concerning my work ... I hope that an opportunity will be made in the near future for discussion of the whole matter.’55 In all likelihood, neither UNRRA nor the Greek government viewed her activities or report in an entirely favourable light. While the Alba-

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nians and Greeks were accusing each other of persecution of their nationals, and with scant prospect of the border dispute being settled in the near future, UNRRA’s Athens Office was alarmed at GeldardBrown’s request for permission to proceed to Albania to carry on her independent investigation of the treatment of Greeks in Albania. The Greek government had wanted UNRRA to provide relief as a form of insurance against Albania’s charges that the Greek government was indifferent to the plight of its citizens. As a result of field surveys like the one above, it had become evident that the number of repatriation cases demanding special handling would be considerably larger than UNRRA had originally anticipated. And so, whatever reservations her superiors had, in July 1945 GeldardBrown was chosen to head the Individual Problems Section. As the chief repatriation consultant, it was her job to determine whether an individual was eligible for UNRRA’s assistance and, if not, to liaise with other governmental, consular, or voluntary agencies to expedite that person’s repatriation. For the most part, her office dealt with especially difficult legal or logistical cases whose roots and solutions involved more than one country. During her tenure, she again repeatedly, and successfully, pushed the limits of her authority to find informal solutions when official channels proved futile. For example, in early 1946 her work took her on special assignment to Rome on behalf of the ‘Greek’ wives of mostly ex-military Italian personnel. As a result of her visit, a simplified screening process was agreed upon, facilitating the movement of these women to rejoin their husbands in Italy.56 Her superiors considered that ‘she did a very effective job in this connection and laid a good basis for further dealings with these cases.’57 For once it seemed that she could devote her considerable energy and talent to a task for which she was ideally suited. Upon her return from vacationing in France, however, she found that the Individual Problems Section had been relocated to the offices of the Ministry of Social Work. While she understood the need to transfer responsibility to the Greek government, she thought the move was premature, ‘particularly at a time when feelings still run high and people from other countries are apt to suffer from discrimination’ and ‘the Governments here seem to change with the Moon – we had at one time three entirely different governments in one week.’ Since the change of governments tended to be accompanied by a change of staff, she feared that the refugees would find themselves in bureaucratic limbo. As she recounted to her friend, she went ‘to bat for her Division’ and after ‘a

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great deal of struggle and ... making myself extremely aggressive (and unpopular)’ forestalled the planned amalgamation for another two months. With her bristling personality and tenacious negotiating style, she often found herself at loggerheads with her superiors. But the tension was rooted in more than a clash of strong personalities; there was a fundamental clash of professional perspectives on the nature of UNRRA’s refugee work. Geldard-Brown complained that ‘so many people are liable to think only in terms of the “movement of bodies” (to use an Army term so often employed) and forget that the “bodies” have minds and problems of their own, which prevent them from always being moved around in groups. It has been a constant up hill struggle to prove the need for handling certain cases on an individual basis and along the lines which the I.M.S. has always demonstrated.’58 For her, the focal point of the welfare work remained the individual; for her UNRRA superiors, it was the reality that UNRRA would soon leave Greece – a move that would reflect the organization’s transition from meeting immediate and more general relief needs to its long-term goal of assisting nations to rebuild their own social-welfare institutions to carry on after it departed. Perhaps it was of some comfort to her that the European Regional Office had become interested and impressed enough with her work in the Individual Problems Section in Greece to request a report on that section’s activities to be used at the upcoming United Nations Organization Refugee Committee conference. Despite her considerable contribution to UNRRA’s work, and the determination and courage she displayed, Mabel Geldard-Brown never received the recognition from UNRRA that she believed she deserved. After almost two years with the organization, she was demoted by two grades and given a salary of $100 less per annum than when she began. In supporting her appeal against the downgrading of her status and salary, Charles S. Stokes, then chief of the Repatriation Division, provided a perceptive and balanced assessment of her performance. She was, he observed, extremely well qualified; turned ‘out a large volume of detailed work of high quality’; had ‘devoted herself to the job without reservation’; and was ‘of unquestionable dependability and high integrity’ and, indeed, had made ‘a real contribution.’ But he then noted: ‘Miss Geldard-Brown has a strong, positive personality which may have made it difficult for her to accept supervision from less qualified and able persons. She has a strong sense of the individual as contrasted to the mass care and treatment approach characteristic of the division,

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particularly in the early days. These factors among others seem to have contributed to the tension between Miss Geldard-Brown and certain other members of the staff in a superior position to her.’59 Stokes believed that ‘these personal tensions’ precipitated an unjustifiably negative evaluation of her work. In the end, before being declared redundant by the Greek mission on 15 September 1946, she was reinstated as a DP specialist grade 10, with a salary of $4,650 to $4,885 – Canadian scale. Geldard-Brown was both an actor in and author of the UNRRA story in Greece. Strong-willed, independent, and self-confident, she was prone to taking decisive actions while others more cautiously contemplated the immediate logistical nightmares and the long-term political implications for UNRRA. Neither hardship nor danger nor reprimands deterred her. She thrived when UNRRA’s work called upon her resourcefulness and considerable organizational talent. A hardened humanitarian, she had little tolerance for those incapable of matching her relentless capacity for work or understanding her vision of international relief as centring on individuals’ needs for shelter and resettlement. The Other Exodus: Elizabeth Brown and UNRRA’s Jerusalem Office Despite the ongoing administrative upheaval in the spring of 1945, the repatriation of the refugees began as UNRRA undertook to fulfil its responsibility for repatriating all of the displaced persons both inside and outside the Middle East camps. Although the number of refugees awaiting repatriation was smaller than in Europe, the challenges were equally daunting. ‘Not only were these refugees scattered many thousands of miles apart through the Middle East, but every repatriation flight meant a train and sea voyage’ and ‘shipping was to prove one of the major difficulties.’60 Included within this group were Greeks living independently in Palestine and Lebanon, Greeks and Dodecanese on the island of Cyprus, and Greeks in Ethiopia, Tanganyika, and the Belgian Congo. The initial repatriation commitment of nearly 50,000 would grow as subsequent UNRRA agreements and Council resolutions expanded UNRRA’s repatriation mandate to include Polish refugees in the Middle East and eventually ex-enemy nationals, namely, Austrians, Hungarians, Romanians, Bulgarians, and Germans.61 It would be Emerson Holcombe’s responsibility to ensure that each refugee was registered by UNRRA personnel and their repatriation

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planned until Selene Gifford took over his duties in March 1946.62 There would be other changes in the personnel as dictated by experience and expediency to meet UNRRA’s changing obligations, with one significant exception. The Jerusalem Office, managed by a Canadian, Elizabeth Brown, survived all the Administration’s meltdowns and subsequent reorganizations without a change of its officials.63 That Brown would become UNRRA’s permanent official in Jerusalem required a combination of chance, sheer determination, and skill. Born in Toronto in 1902, the only daughter in the family, Elizabeth Brown, according to her brother Harcourt, derived her adventurous spirit from her upbringing: ‘Her father’s intellectual curiosity and catholic interests laid the foundation for her broad appreciation for the works of man and nature; while her mother’s profound convictions about the innate worth to be found in every individual propelled her towards a career of service.’ In her brother’s eyes, ‘EB was a mailed fist in a velvet glove ... through most of her life her journeys were conceived and planned out alone. She was a strong and purposeful walker and early on developed a no-nonsense manner with strangers, which carried her unscathed through many a hazardous encounter.’64 After completing graduate work in applied psychology from Columbia University, during the Depression, she had worked in a settlement house in New York. Later, with the outbreak of the Second World War, she left her ‘dead end job’ in a California girls’ school to become the first employment adviser for women in the Unemployment Commission in Ottawa. Eventually she found Ottawa’s wartime bureaucracy, ‘its attitudes and red tape, its stiff-necked men and women,’ too confining, and returned to New York where she believed women enjoyed more freedom.65 She was, as the military historian Charles Stacey portrayed her, an ‘impatient wartime recruit’ who ‘could not tolerate or be accepted by the cautious career civil servant.’66 When her initial application to UNRRA for employment was declined, she gained entry via the back door with the American Christian Committee for Refugees (ACCR), which paid her salary but loaned her to UNRRA’s Displaced Persons Division. While Brown believed that her previous experience would prove ‘pertinent and valuable’ in sorting out the chaotic lives of thousands of people victimized by the war, it remained to be seen whether this ambitious and adventurous Canadian woman would handle UNRRA’s bureaucrats any better than she had Ottawa’s.67 Like her fellow Canadian, Geldard-Brown, Elizabeth Brown wrote about her experiences in the Maryland Training Centre. But there were

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both striking similarities and profound differences in how these two women handled their UNRRA training experience. Both commented on ‘the motley group of new recruits,’ many of whom had ‘little background upon which to hang the new knowledge.’ Both took special note of the closing lecture given by Herta Kraus, but their recollection of its significance differed markedly. As Elizabeth Brown remembered the lecture, Kraus spoke about ‘the need to identify with the people of the country in which we found ourselves working, that unless we could and did identify we would not be making our maximum contribution, in short we should make an effort to find a friend there.’68 For Elizabeth Brown, therefore, the fear was potential isolation. In contrast, what Geldard-Brown remembered was Kraus’s warning: doing relief during wartime would mean that ‘we must harden our hearts ... it is our duty to keep fit, as we have come out to do a certain job.’69 For GeldardBrown, the message was the need to maintain a level of professionalism, even if it meant emotionally distancing oneself from both the human tragedy and your fellow workers to get the job done. Elizabeth Brown also noted that the naivety of some of the American girls of ‘little gay hats’ who apparently thought that their ‘social planning would be done over dinner and the dance floor.’ Yet she believed the majority of the new UNRRA recruits to be ‘a serious crowd’ who ‘took our instructions to forget our nationality and be truly international, very solemnly.’70 The attitudes of these two women towards UNRRA’s training program indicate a difference in personality – Mabel GeldardBrown fumed over perceived slights while Elizabeth Brown could laugh at the snickers she received upon her arrival at the British military’s offices in Jerusalem. She looked quite the sight, Elizabeth Brown remembered, decked out in khaki composed of an American army skirt and a British battle jacket, along with a black French beret. After that day, she wore her civilian clothes. Upon her arrival in Cairo, Elizabeth Brown learned that her original UNRRA assignment to Yugoslavia had to be changed, for ‘the word was President Tito doesn’t want any more women.’71 Chauvinism, she was soon to discover, was not confined to the Yugoslavians. Upon being given a choice of posting by Clarence M. Pierce, who was then in charge of the displaced-persons operations in the Balkan mission, she had volunteered herself for the job of surveying the work UNRRA should do in Syria, Lebanon, and Palestine. But Pierce informed her that ‘that quite frankly UNRRA wanted to put a man in charge of this investigation and subsequently any of the work UNRRA would have to

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do there.’ The only stumbling block was they had no one suitable for the task. So Brown’s offer was accepted, though a Mr Lowe, who was waiting for the Yugoslavian mission to open up, would accompany her. ‘Nice as he was,’ she regarded him as ‘as an Englishman of the old fashioned colonial officer type, inflexible and a bit pompous.’ She was delighted when her hope that ‘Yugoslavia would need him soon’ became a reality and she was left to carry on the field work alone. Over the course of the next month, until Christmas 1944, she travelled by hitching rides with the British military, or in a French jeep with a Polish driver who raced at ‘a speed downhill that left me breathless,’ to the isolated communities where there were groups of Poles or Czechs. Developing ‘a pretty good working knowledge of refugees awaiting help,’ she wrote a report that was reviewed by UNRRA headquarters in Cairo, where ‘there seemed a bit of surprise that a woman should have produced such a paper.’ Nonetheless, she was offered and accepted the Jerusalem posting, but only after learning that she would be in charge. She enthusiastically welcomed the freedom and responsibility of working ‘in a setting as meaningful, as historic, as romantic and beautiful as the city of Jerusalem.’ At the time, it ‘was more than I could believe. My cup was full.’72 The Jerusalem Office initially came under the chief of mission but, after the appointment of Brigadier T.T. Waddington in July 1945, it was moved to the Bureau of Services in the Middle East Office.73 During her three years as chief of the Jerusalem Office, Elizabeth Brown would be responsible for the repatriation of Greeks and Dodecanese in Palestine and Lebanon and later for the repatriation of the Czechs in Palestine and for the Poles in Palestine and Lebanon. The Jerusalem Office would never be large but it nonetheless typified the history of repatriation directed by UNRRA from this area of the world. Although the work included many of the same logistical problems that affected repatriation elsewhere, especially those associated with the shortage of wartime shipping available, there were added complications owing to the widely scattered location of the individual refugees involved.74 Fleeing the German invasion, the tide of Greek refugees flowed into monasteries and convents of the Greek Orthodox Church in Palestine or into the small huts built from stone and clay in the mountains and terraced hills throughout Lebanon. While the care of Greeks in the Nuseirat camp came under the Department of Camps at UNRRA’s headquarters, the repatriation of the remainder of the ‘free-living’ Greeks would be the Jerusalem Office’s responsibility. During July,

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August, and September 1945, Elizabeth Brown and her staff were primarily occupied with arranging the repatriation of the Greek refugees. By far the largest ‘flight,’ as UNRRA teams and the displaced persons they accompanied were commonly called, was the one that embarked on 21 August 1945 on the SS Eirdan, which combined 1,007 Greek refugees from Lebanon with 1,044 from Palestine. Accompanied by a representative of the Repatriation Division in Cairo, Brown rushed to Lebanon on 12 August 1945, having been allowed only six days to make the arrangements necessary to get her refugees assembled for embarkation. The failure to allow adequate preparation time and the lack of advanced planning between the Lebanon group and the Nuseirat camp resulted in mass confusion as the whole embarkation process stretched over several hours, hindered by the enormous amount of baggage and disorganization among the refugees themselves. ‘Fortunately ... this move was never repeated.’75 For future flights, these free-living refugees either had to be moved to the camps to join the groups scheduled to depart from there or (as in the previous case) have transportation specially arranged so they could join the planned embarkations directly at the port. Each was to provide its own challenges. In early February 1946, Brown was called to UNRRA headquarters in Cairo to see her immediate superior, Selene Gifford, in order to discuss putting ‘her free living’ Palestine Greeks in the Nuseirat camp. Upon her return, when she broached the subject with Greek leaders, their reaction was as expected: ‘The poor souls think they’re going to die if they go there for a few days. They talked about climate, about dirt, about moving their luggage, about theft, about how much Greece had done in the war, about seven hundred children dying in Nuseirat, a fiction manufactured out of thin air. They gave us a flat refusal and we left.’76 The situation deteriorated when a Greek military official, who had accompanied Elizabeth Brown earlier in the day, unwisely returned alone to try to persuade the Greeks to change their minds. The next morning, ‘Miss UNRRA Brown’ was required to rescue the major, whom the Greeks were threatening to hold hostage until UNRRA provided a ship to take them home! Logistical problems like these were only one of the obstacles that Elizabeth Brown and her Jerusalem Office would be required to face. Political events beyond UNRRA’s control dictated that the Jerusalem Office’s repatriation efforts would be full of twists and turns, sometimes stretching over several years before those uprooted by war saw their homes again. Some cases, like the Greeks who were living in hous-

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ing provided by the Greek Orthodox Church and were on the rolls of the Greek Ministry of Social Welfare, were easily handled. The first unexpected complication developed when a number of Greeks who were not on the government’s rolls turned up asking for UNRRA assistance to return home. In fact, there were so many of them that Brown decided to place an advertisement in the local paper, the Palestine Post, to ensure that all Greek citizens who had entered Palestine since the war and who desired to return to Greece had the opportunity to register at the UNRRA office in Jerusalem.77 During the next two weeks, over seven hundred people flocked to UNRRA’s Jerusalem Office from as far away as Tel Aviv and Haifa. There were other problems. In MERRA’s camps, representatives of the Jewish Agency issued Jewish displaced persons ‘certificates of immigration’; only later were these persons forced to make independent living arrangements upon learning that the certificates made them ineligible for UNRRA’s assistance to return home. Dedicated to the creation of an independent homeland, the Jewish Agency was determined to prevent any Jewish refugees issued a ‘certificate of immigration’ from leaving Palestine because the certificates, which had severely limited Jewish immigration by adhering to a quota set out in the 1939 British White Paper, were not transferable. At the time that UNRRA opened its office in Jerusalem, a 1945 White Paper had authorized the issuing of an additional 200,000 certificates for Jews wishing to immigrate to Palestine from countries involved in the war. The Jewish Agency wanted to see the new quota filled starting with Jews who had been dislocated from their homes and were already in Palestine and the MERRA camps. Faced with a growing number of Jewish Greeks, who pleaded that ‘we don’t speak the language, we never heard of Zionism till we came here and we want to go home,’78 Elizabeth Brown enlisted the aid of Marjory Holland, the librarian at the YMCA, to research the legal status of these controversial certificates. Brown wrote: ‘I learned that Britain’s last White Paper had allowed for 200,000 immigrants thus registered by the Jewish Agency to enter, but it was envisaged that the holders could and would make their own decisions in regard to repatriation when the hostilities ceased.’79 There was no question in her mind that ‘UNRRA was on solid legal grounds for moving any, who held such certificates, but wished to return.’80 She certainly intended to proceed on that basis. Even if UNRRA had legal grounds to assist the Greek Jews, the legal rights of the 217 Sephardic Greek Jews were not clear-cut. Although Sephardic Jews had lived for three to five hundred years in Greece,

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those who had fled to the Middle East during the war technically held Spanish passports and this fact alone weakened their claim that they had a right to return to Greece. It also meant that their visa applications would have to be individually reviewed and approved by the Greek government’s representatives in Athens. The prospects of success did not appear encouraging, especially since Brown was finding it difficult to get the necessary visas even for those Greek Jews whose citizenship was uncontested. She informed UNRRA’s Cairo headquarters of the Greek government’s reluctance to cooperate after its recent discussions with Ben Gurion and Moshe Shertok of the Jewish Agency. Specific instructions had been issued to the local consulate that it was not to grant Greek Jews in Palestine the necessary documents for repatriation.81 As the list of those currently holding ‘certificates of immigration’ grew among those seeking to be repatriated, it became apparent that the Jewish authorities in Palestine were not taking kindly to the Jerusalem Office’s ‘other Exodus’ – the term coined by Elizabeth Brown to sum up her office’s activities. Her determination to aid these Jewish refugees derived from her belief that UNRRA’s mandate was clear: ‘People were to be given the opportunity to go home or stay, and there we stopped.’82 Furthermore, she was critical of the Jewish Agency’s tactics, which, she believed smacked of duplicity and would only defeat their aspirations for an independent Jewish state. She had ‘given up believing that the J.A. is a reputable organization. It isn’t – it’s politics pure and simple – it’s not interested in Zionism as a religious cause – it’s not interested in human beings as such – only in numbers and in the attainment of a Jewish state.’83 She believed that it was important to resolve satisfactorily the question of the rights of Greek Jews to repatriate because ‘it will facilitate our work if and when we can embark on the job for the Czechs and Poles, many of whom were Jewish.’84 Those challenges still lay ahead. Zionism was only one factor hindering UNRRA’s repatriation efforts among the Polish refugees. Reporting on the Polish group in Palestine on 27 February 1945, Brown observed: ‘UNRRA’s business is not politics, but a few weeks’ preliminary knowledge of the situation in Palestine makes it very clear that this side of the picture is going to have an influence on Polish repatriation and that here as elsewhere our work is interwoven with it.’ Accordingly, she recommended that ‘it was unwise, I believe, for us to consider registration at the present.’ The majority of the Polish refugees, who supported the Polish governmentin-exile, were unlikely to come forward ‘if Russian dominance is evi-

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dent in the new Government.’ There was a group who would sit on the political fence and attempt to broker a deal with the power that emerged dominant. But there was another group ‘who, contrary to official and military opinion, are confident that 50% of the refugees here are eager to see a close relationship with Russia and a completely new Poland emerge.’ Her caution to UNRRA headquarters reflected her belief that ‘too much has to be settled in the political picture. And for these people receiving their bread and butter from the present government, and possibly in Palestine illegally, it is unlikely that they may come into the open and express themselves until several inevitable events have taken place.’85 Brown’s memo in all likelihood both reinforced and reflected UNRRA’s reluctance to assume responsibility for the free-living Polish refugees, for whom the UNRRA-run camps could not match the level of economic support and freedom that they enjoyed on their own.86 Brown believed that, by waiting until the political situation had clarified, ‘the Poles would have an opportunity of realizing and ... formulating in their own minds what they want to do.’87 Her approach to repatriation remained consistent: UNRRA’s repatriation policy should be predicated on free choice and full information. Her initial reservations were well founded. Later, when UNRRA assumed responsibility for Polish repatriation, she would come face to face with the anti-repatriation propaganda efforts of the Polish government-in-exile in London. Brown recounted the details of what she termed ‘a Polish plotsky’ during one of her trips into the hills surrounding Beirut: ‘In one of these villages some Poles gave us some trouble. They had a half mad woman, a fanatic to whom they fed a number of statements about the communists in Poland. Midway through our meeting she would stride up and down the room waving her arms shouting in Polish. No one would touch her, purportedly for fear of making things worse.’88 Other UNRRA officials experienced similar ‘staged’ performances as they toured Polish camps within Africa and India.89 Reports depicting the anti-repatriation attitude among the Polish refugees received from Brown and other UNRRA officials contributed to UNRRA headquarters’ cautious approach to this community of exiles. It would not be until July 1946 that the European Regional Office would receive authorization of £30,000 for Polish repatriation, albeit without specific instructions. Finally, one month later, the Middle East Office was authorized to repatriate the Poles, but only those in Palestine and Lebanon. The first Polish flight from Lebanon and Palestine

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occurred in November 1946. Brown never questioned the wisdom of supporting Polish repatriation because she believed that ‘a vastly changed Poland will emerge from this war.’90 In her opinion, the Polish peasant refugees, ‘sometimes illiterate, almost without exception apolitical,’ would have ‘a long and difficult time in a new country, but would readily adjust if they were to return to their own land. These are the people for whom communism has realized the most improvements.’91 The wind of political changes sweeping Europe dictated that the history of repatriation from Jerusalem would be tortuous, delaying the return home of those displaced by war sometimes for years. Nowhere was this truer than in the case of the Austrians. In the fall of 1945, Brown received instructions to register the Austrians for repatriation. Emerson Holcombe had assured her that London’s regional office had endorsed his interpretation of liberated territory as being synonymous with United Nations territory and ‘that since we were repatriating Austrians from countries inside Europe presumably it would be ok from Palestine.’92 An earlier diary entry in October 1945 recorded Elizabeth’s scepticism about Holcombe’s liberal reading of UNRRA’s mandate to include ex-enemy refugees in Palestine. In that instance, she had been concerned about his request that she approach the British authorities in Palestine for assistance on this question: ‘I seem to have had a dose of tricky letters to write M.E.O [Middle East Office] recently. They understand so little of the complications of this country. Emerson Holcomb [sic] wanted me to get the Pal. Govt. to request UNRRA to look after all refugees that were enemy nationals and in need of assistance. Difficult to see how he can read this into UNRRA restrictions – most of the refugees here wangled Palestine because they are Jewish – but the Jewish Agency would nevertheless like to retain them as immigrants. The Pal. govt. will not want to put itself on record as suggesting or requesting their removal for officially it is strict with itself in adhering to an impartial line.’93 It appeared to her that she was being asked to implement a policy without headquarters having given serious consideration to the local repercussions. Brown’s position was echoed by Washington, which took ‘the legalistic approach rather than the liberal one and vetoed it.’ The saga, ultimately culminating in the curtailment of the Austrian registration six weeks later, caused considerable stress for both Elizabeth Brown and the Austrian refugees. Having announced their intention to return, they were declared social outcasts and blacklisted by the

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Jewish labour organization, leaving them without any hope of future employment: ‘But these people who have lived and worked here do not receive meal tickets for food because they are “traitors.” In a settlement called Petah Tikvah, things reached a pretty serious state. The seven there, who signed up for the 15th, have been in to tell me that they are being victimized to a rather alarming degree. Two of them were beaten up. All are greeted with an upraised arm and “Heil Renner go home Austrian” shouted at them. They stay in after dark, but where they are going to stay after the 15th they don’t know. They never go out except in twos or groups and are jeered at and made to feel as outcasts all the time.’94 As her diary entries indicate, Brown became increasingly censorious of the Jewish Agency. Her criticism derived not from anti-Semitism but from her empathy for the human tragedy associated with the Zionist aspiration for nationhood: ‘And yet look at the pressure, the coercion that’s used on my poor refugees once they have shown their hand that they want to go home. The discrimination that Jews can hand out to Jews is enough to pale Gestapo treatment – since it has a personal and emotional basis.’95 Believing that the Jerusalem Office, acting as an agent for UNRRA, had contributed further hardship to the Austrian refugees’ lives was simply unbearable for her. This was the ‘first breach of faith this office has had in a difficult community – I don’t like any of it.’96 The Austrian refugees were left in limbo until May 1946 when registration was reopened, but even then it was not until January 1947 that clearance was received from Austria to proceed. Brown would extend her Jerusalem stay into 1947 to assist them on their journey homeward. Frustrated that ‘these darn complications in this country had stymied my work,’97 Brown eagerly waited for an opportunity to escape the demands and politics of the UNRRA office. Independent by nature, she ignored the warnings of both her Jewish and Arab friends about her practice of hiking through the rugged countryside outside Jerusalem and Bethlehem. Brown travelled extensively for work and pleasure, enjoying the company at times of other women on UNRRA’s staff in Cairo or while touring MERRA’s camps. She found that the rich history and beautiful geography provided a perfect setting for romance – and the lively outgoing ‘Miss UNRRA Brown’ did not want for a lack of social invitations. A three-week vacation to Cyprus and Turkey provided one such romantic interlude, where every day was full of ‘exploring and adventure, of bathing, of sailing of walking of talking and growing warmth in the relationship ... Never have holidays slipped by

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like these, never has there been such a happy combination of things to do and see in such a lovely place to do and see them, nor seldom have I found the rare soul who enjoys doing and seeing the things I do.’98 The vacation provided a much-needed escape from the realities of the office, but both the respite and the romance were short-lived. British determination to restrict immigration to levels authorized in the 1939 White Paper had prompted Jewish dissident groups to mount a rebellion against the British administration in Palestine. The United Resistance Movement organized illegal immigration, kidnapped British officials, and carried out acts of sabotage. The most spectacular of these terrorist acts was the bombing of the King David Hotel, the military headquarters and offices of the British administration in Palestine. On 22 July 1946, shortly after she returned from vacation, Brown heard ‘the most terrific explosion ... We went out on the terrace again – to see the K.D. [King David Hotel] completely enveloping itself in smoke.’99 She found it a bitter irony that the explosion had occurred while she was making arrangements for the Jewish Agency team members to go forward to Austria to assist UNRRA: ‘This job of sending JA workers to go forward to Europe on loan to UNRRA to do a propaganda job on poor benighted refugees and pep talk them into coming to Palestine – to increase the J. population and make it a majority to increase the terrorism, it’s all such nonsense – when our primary work here is repatriation of malcontents to their former homes in Europe.’100 In the wake of the bombing of the King David Hotel, Brown’s criticisms of the Jewish Agency became more vehement, for, in her mind, there was no question where the responsibility for the terrorism lay. She resented how the terrorist activities complicated her work and private life, forcing her ‘[to live] the life of a hermit working, adjourning to my room – or bed with a book.’101 After the bombing of the King David Hotel, all non-essential British civilians and military families were evacuated from Palestine and the remaining members of the British community were concentrated in security zones surrounded by barbwire at the beginning of February 1947. In the same month, ‘statutory martial law’ was imposed for a limited period in specified areas. For Brown, with the ‘out of bounds order – the barricades around the YM[CA], the curfew 6pm to 6am, the limitations growing and increasing – nerves frayed, jitters,’ Jerusalem had become ‘not a pretty place to live these days ... It’s been a horrible time – so little one could do – I finally found I could help make sandwiches for the troops and was grateful to fill up my off hours with something

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of this sort – a manual job.’102 The frustration of dealing with the growing complications of the politics of Zionism and the onset of the Cold War was taking a physical and emotional toll. As she confided to her family, ‘M.E. [Middle East] has made me no younger – I am thinner by far than when I saddled myself into the sedentary static status of a civil servant in Ottawa. I’m greyer in the locks and wrinkles are coming fast – oh dear they all stayed away so fortunately long that I find it hard to take!!!’103 In the fall of 1946, she had to be hospitalized for ten days – the Middle East bugs finally caught up with her. ‘My one urge now is to get my work here done and get away. How I hope two months will finish it.’104 The fatigue and frustrations of that summer and early fall manifested itself in her work. In a letter back home, she uncharacteristically spoke poorly of the Polish refugees who resisted the decision of the British military to move all men and families destined for the United Kingdom to resettlement camps: ‘What we are left with are the stick in the muds who won’t raise a finger to plan for themselves & who are being demoralized by having an international organization take care of them. So I am prepared, the Palestine Government too, though Lord help me I can’t get the British diplomats in the Lebanon to move – to get tough with these babies and either cut allowances in half or put them all in a camp until we get their future sorted out. But it takes so confounded long to get anything like a new plan rolling where high offices are concerned.’105 By late August, she was writing: ‘I am up to my ears at long last in Poles’ but ‘the number wishing to go home is limited – There’s work enough on the job to keep me busy.’ Enough tension existed within Palestine that her UNRRA car had been assigned an additional military guard in addition to her usual military chauffeur, and both men carried tommy guns when she left town. She told her family not to worry since she was resigned to the danger. ‘There is nothing to be done about it – I keep my fingers crossed that I get each move made without a curfew interfering and I get every ounce of help from government and military here that they can give me. But things are not getting any easier – and my one desire is to get what I need to get done & get out.’106 Zionism was not only complicating her work at the office but eroding her personal network of support among friends she had made within the local community. Both contributed to her desire to get the job done and move on. She had approached the UNRRA assignment with the idea of reach-

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ing out beyond her own community to gain a better insight into her work. Writing to her brother Harcourt at Christmas 1945, she assured him that ‘I get around to be exposed to the trends and ideas of this place. One must, however, not throw in one’s lot on either side if one is to plumb the full depths – and this I can’t and haven’t and am not interested in doing. I so far have kept a pretty good equilibrium and managed to dig pretty deep in both sides. I have good friends on both sides, and like some individually very much. I can still criticize both and how.’107 Her diary entries make clear, however, that by 1947 these friendships were becoming more difficult to sustain: with people she had ‘known, been friendly with a few weeks or months ago,’ she ‘could now not relax or find words for. It isn’t that frankness alone won’t work, it is that feelings are so close to the surface that frankness can’t be faced realistically – and so one stays clear of all current Palestine news.’108 Zionism and the beginning of the Cold War mentality left UNRRA’s and consequently Brown’s own impartiality open to question, and the prospect of compromising that impartiality deeply disturbed her: ‘Various things are getting to the point of impasse in the immediate situation here, and though I’ve worked hard at hewing an impartial line in a set-up where it’s practically impossible to do so, there are factors that prevent UNRRA from keeping her skirts clean and adhering to a strictly international and idealistic path. If my work is to go down in shambles, I can’t stay to see it happen – so I practically demanded a transfer.’109 UNRRA’s general operations were scheduled to cease at the end of 1946, and its work with refugees was to continue until not later than 30 June 1947. Brown’s stay was extended by UNRRA’s last-minute decision to register the enemy nationals. In the end, despite her reservations and her expressed desire to return home or move on to a new job with the International Refugee Organization, she would stay in the Jerusalem Office until June 1947; she simply believed that she was the best person to see the job through. In evaluating Elizabeth Brown’s performance, H. Van Hyde, chief of the Middle East Office, complimented her for having ‘developed an efficient and businesslike office in Palestine with the minimum direction from Headquarters. She has proceeded very effectively with her task of registering refugees and has given competent direction to subordinate staff in the field. I had occasion to visit high Government officials with her and found her relationship with them were such as to bring credit to UNRRA.’110 Brown’s close relationships with Palestinian

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government officials and the British military allowed her to navigate the logistical nightmares accompanying repatriations from the Middle East, especially after UNRRA’s efforts became encumbered by martial law, restricted security zones, and growing Zionist antagonism. ‘We have a move next week,’ she wrote to her brother in mid February 1947, ‘and have our fingers properly crossed that we get the people away without interference. Military are giving me all the help possible as usual and tomorrow I have a date with my friend the Palestine police chief for protection at [the] station – the rigmarole about getting the flight teams into the country to help me under the present circumstances is incredible but it’ll finally work.’111 Elizabeth Brown had surmised early on that she could not run the Jerusalem Office without the military’s and local authorities’ support, especially in arranging embarkations. The strong friendship she had developed over several trips to Cairo with Colonel (Dr) Ernest Altounyan, who was attached to the commander-in-chief’s office in Cairo, typified those relationships. That friendship grew partly from his belief that UNRRA’s office in Jerusalem was ‘the single evidence of democracy in the otherwise fascist state that was fast developing in Palestine’ and partly from their shared love of dancing. The colonel, however, ‘was an energetic dancer so I encouraged conversation instead and learned a lot about the Middle East, I wouldn’t otherwise have known.’112 He was often of considerable assistance to Elizabeth in securing transportation and supplies for the refugee flights back to their country of origin. In January 1947, for example, she was in Cairo when Selene Gifford informed her that the British military were withdrawing their logistical support for UNRRA’s work in the Middle East. She was irate when she learned that UNRRA had not protested, and even more chagrined at her superior’s patronizing reply: ‘But Elizabeth, the British military have a perfect right to make their own decisions, and we must accept this.’113 Brown was not prepared to do that. A few hours later, she quickly accepted Colonel Altounyan’s invitation, after a chance meeting, to dine and dance that evening. Her diary entry illustrates her flirtatious art of carrying on diplomatic negotiations without missing a beat on the dance floor: ‘Against the noisy band we talked mainly in generalities but the good music encouraging dancing. Half way through the evening I started kidding about the British military decision, and their walking out on UNRRA. I could see this was nothing to make fun of: the colonel becoming stern and grim. It was difficult for a bit to get him to relax and forget it for the present. This was exactly what I wanted, for we both

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knew UNRRA could not work in Palestine without their help, but now the point was made, I was quite prepared to go on dancing, enjoying the evening. My message has gotten through.’114 The postscript to the evening came the next day in Selene Gifford’s office. The phone rang just as Elizabeth Brown was about to depart. ‘Well that’s good,’ Selene informed her. ‘The British [have] changed their minds.’ Elizabeth Brown would continue to have the required British logistical support for her UNRRA flight teams. She left for Jerusalem and ‘considered that she had had a successful business trip.’115 Conclusion Mabel Geldard-Brown’s UNRRA career provided a clear indication of the complexity of mounting field operations, especially in the early days before total victory had been attained. The differential pay scales and lack of uniform training or professional backgrounds made the adjustment to working within an international team difficult. While the Balkan mission was unique in the degree to which it divided along national lines, the Administration’s failure to redress these sore points in light of the difficulties encountered complicated its start-up operations elsewhere. The reorganization of the Balkan mission and of UNRRA’s headquarters streamlined control over field operations in favour of the ERO, but it did little to clarify the contested lines of authority between the functional divisions. And while lessons learned here did improve UNRRA’s other operations, especially in arranging for transportation and care during repatriation of displaced persons to their country of origin, it did not prevent the same kind of institutional collapse and further administrative reorganizations. Geldard-Brown was involved in one of the most important aspects of the welfare work of the Greek mission: the care and settlement of the large number of destitute persons who could not afford even the most basic necessities. Her reluctance to hand over her responsibilities to the Ministry of Social Welfare was indicative of UNRRA’s broader failure to establish a viable national social-service scheme to provide for the care and settlement of the indigent: ‘Perhaps the attempt of the Mission to introduce into an economically backward country a national welfare system more properly applicable in an advanced, prosperous country was unrealistic.’116 At best, UNRRA’s welfare work in Greece heightened the awareness of the need to establish a national approach based upon standard, nationwide criteria.117 The lack of any national social

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welfare infrastructure meant that Geldard-Brown and other welfare personnel had to become far more involved at the operational level than originally intended. UNRRA, here as elsewhere, was supposed to act primarily in advisory capacity to build national capacity and competence in the area of social services. Unfortunately, in the case of Geldard-Brown, the need for a more hands-on-approach also fitted her personal operating style and temperament. Elizabeth Brown’s tenure in the Jerusalem Office was somewhat unique in the UNRRA experience. She had more independence than many of her UNRRA administrator counterparts, such as Mabel Geldard-Brown. Indeed, hers was virtually a one-person show. Still, her work became increasingly difficult and burdensome as the flames of Zionism ignited and the Cold War mentality crept into the UNRRA’s operations in the Middle East. Under the pressures of her job, her personal relationships, which had provided important support for her work, gradually suffered, though her ability to preserve her ties with government officials and military authorities allowed her to persevere and get the job done. Even then, however, her authority to assist many of those displaced by war from their homes had to await political resolution at much higher levels in Washington and London. In her isolated enclave, she had felt the winds of change already stirring in Europe. The experience with repatriation from the Balkans and the Middle East turned out not to be as problematic as it would be in Europe. Since many of the displaced persons were physically and financially supported outside UNRRA’s camps, their delayed repatriation did not affect UNRRA’s daily operations as it would in the European theatre.

6 Soldiers of Peace or Agents of Repatriation: The Displaced-Persons Operations in Germany

David Wodlinger, the Canadian who was promoted from the field to become UNRRA’s deputy director of the American Zone in Occupied Germany, wrote that the country was ‘a kaleidoscopic picture of humanity in chaotic disorganization’ in a period ‘of almost unbelievable disorganization.’ UNRRA’s staff all had ‘quickly come to realize that their situation was in every way entirely different from anything in their previous experience and that they had to conform or collapse.’ ‘Being able to take it,’ he argued, required a ‘lively sense of humour, a deeply felt respect for the individual and his experience coupled with an inexhaustible supply of patience and tact to say nothing of the emotional balance.’1 Courage, adaptability, and emotional resilience would continue to be demanded of the Canadians who served as displacedpersons officers in Germany and elsewhere until UNRRA transferred the responsibility for the care and resettlement of those driven from their homes during and after the war to the International Refugee Organization in July 1947. The three phases of UNRRA’s displaced-persons operations in Germany (see maps 1 and 2), each coinciding with major administrative reorganizations, are studied in this chapter through an examination of the representative stories of some of the Canadian UNRRAIDS involved. During the initial period, in which UNRRA operated under SHAEF, the temporary shelter and massive movement of those willing to return home, at a time when transportation systems within Europe were in shambles, and the care of the concentration-camp survivors proved the major challenges. In its rush to meet the military authorities’ demands for assistance, UNRRA dispatched small, ill-equipped teams to the field, thereby creating an impression of inefficiency and inepti-

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tude. Once the military authorities relinquished control to UNRRA – a move marking the beginning of the second period – the Administration attempted to refurbish its badly tarnished image by redistributing the responsibilities between Washington and London in favour of granting greater control of services in Germany’s field operation to the ERO and introducing a supervisory echelon at field level. Washington, however, still maintained control over the allocation of supplies. The treatment of the Jewish displaced persons became highly politicized during this period as ‘infiltrees’ – Jewish refugees from outside Germany in the post-hostilities period who were escaping persecution or seeking a better life – infiltrated UNRRA’s camps and thus swelled the numbers seeking UNRRA’s aid. The Administration was forced to expand its original definition of eligibility to cover these Jewish refugees, who technically had not been displaced from their homes during the war. Combined with the problem of those who refused to return to home countries in Eastern Europe under Soviet control, the issue of infiltrees made it apparent that longer-term solutions would be required to deal with ‘hard-core’ displaced persons (see appendix B, table B.3). Thus opened the third period, when the decision to merge the welfare and displaced-persons operations signalled a significant change in the protocol surrounding the care and repatriation of displaced persons as UNRRA prepared to wind down its operations. During this period, the amalgamation of several UNRRA teams into huge area teams was dictated by more than financial stringency. It was an attempt by the Administration to divorce its staff from their close associations with any one camp or nationality as it prepared to implement much tougher regulations aimed at ‘encouraging’ hard-core displaced persons to return home. Launching the Displaced-Persons Operations: John Alexander Edmison On 25 November 1944 Director General Lehman concluded an agreement with General Eisenhower, Supreme Commander, Allied Expeditionary Forces (SCAEF). Known as the SCAEF Agreement, its terms recognized that while UNRRA would assume control of relief and resettlement in the post-military period, it would participate in the planning and operations only under the authority of the Allied Expeditionary Forces; the agreement also provided that UNRRA would supervise the activities of the voluntary agencies. On 2 December 1944 the military authorities requested that UNRRA make available 200 fully

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equipped teams composed of thirteen members each to be mobilized by 1 April 1945. In January 1945 John Alexander Edmison was the Canadian given responsibility for this daunting task. He was to be the principal spokesman for UNRRA at SHAEF and also was to have responsibility for the general direction of UNRRA’s Mobilization and Training Centre. Edmison felt an enormous sense of responsibility as he contemplated the job that lay ahead: ‘While our task will be much less spectacular than that performed by the gallantry of the Allied Armies, it is now squarely up to UNRRA to open the first offensive for the United Nations on the front of European peace. Failure would have consequences too ugly to contemplate. The Challenge of V Day is taken up by all of us privileged to be in UNRRA ranks.’2 By the time SHAEF handed over operations to UNRRA three months later, Edmison had placed over 350 UNRRA teams in the field. He himself went on a 2,300-mile tour of the camps in Germany and Austria in September 1945 to gather material for an upcoming North American speaking tour designed to publicize UNRRA’s work. During the next three months, he visited 55 towns and cities in Canada and the United States and gave over 130 lectures to counter the negative press that UNRRA was then receiving. His experience personified the trials and triumphs of those involved in establishing UNRRA field operations in Germany. A lawyer by training, Edmison had developed a keen interest in prison reform and rehabilitation during his university years. Then an alderman in Montreal and chief legal counsel for Montreal Prisoners’ Aid, he earned the distinction of being the first Montreal alderman to go on active duty. Prior to his UNRRA appointment, he had spent three and a half years with the Judge Advocate General’s Branch, Canadian Military Headquarters, in London, England, as the head of the legal-aid section. Fred Hoehler, director of the Displaced Persons Division, recruited Edmison to UNRRA for ‘his special qualifications and experiences.’3 Others on his staff, such as one of Canada’s most well-respected social workers, Marjorie Bradford, also concluded that Edmison’s years of volunteer service and legal training gave him a special interest in UNRRA’s welfare activities among those dislocated from their countries of origin by the Axis armies. She wrote a telling letter about her fellow Canadian’s efforts to build camaraderie and common identity through the exchange of knowledge gained in the field among his staff: ‘Mr. Edmison’s volunteer time has been given to volunteer activities for many years. He feels that side of the work is very important and wants to have the welfare issues and needs and activities represented as fully as possible in field reports and bulletins, not only for headquarters but

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for circulation to the field workers themselves.’4 Despite his diversified welfare, legal, and military background, however, Edmison’s UNRRA work was possibly one of the most frustrating experiences of his career, though also challenging and rewarding. By temperament and training, he found his relationships with the staff the most satisfactory side of his job. Edmison was later fondly remembered by his UNRRA contemporaries as an amiable, hard-working humanitarian, who never lost his sense of humour despite the logistical and personnel nightmares encountered in launching UNRRA in the field.5 As one of his staff commented on the eve of his departure, ‘anybody who can live through three months of SHAEF and still lecture about it (let alone talk coherently about it), deserves a Croix de Guerre.’6 In fact, Edmison received citations from both General Eisenhower and General De Gaulle for his work with UNRRA. It was typical of him that, when asked by a reporter why he received the citation from De Gaulle, he graciously gave credit to his whole team: ‘Anything I was able to accomplish in these early days of the UNRRA operation was due to the loyalty and cooperation of my hard working staff at Versailles and at Frankfurt-on Main. These folks worked endless hours, Sundays included, and for several months hardly an evening off was had by anybody. Never have I seen such devotion to duty.’7 Edmison understood the importance of personal contact and empathetic encouragement and took every opportunity to support the teams in the field. His gift for encouraging others, his gentle, personal touch, and his undying optimism contributed to building the organization’s esprit de corps in its early days in the field. Though Edmison’s military background was certainly an asset in negotiating relationships with military authorities both at headquarters and in the field, it failed to prevent the frustrations and endless delays experienced in mobilizing the first teams. Despite the efforts of Edmison and his staff, UNRRA was unable to make the teams available by the dates proposed by the military. While UNRRA must shoulder some of responsibility for this, Edmison contended that it never received the support of the military authorities in meeting its requests for supplies and adequate transportation. He claimed that UNRRA was ‘treated as the undeserving stepchild of the military,’ leaving it vulnerable to the charge of being a hopelessly inefficient and an inadequate organization, bogged down, as one writer said, ‘by red tape of 47 nations.’8 Still, in both his reports to the ERO and his later speeches, Edmison made it clear that he had to overcome significant indifference and inefficiencies on the Administration’s side as well. For example, in a 1946 letter writ-

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ten in response to a journalist’s request for a ‘detailed account of the problems and hurdles and bottlenecks,’ Edmison stated: ‘You would receive such a mass of documentation that you would think that I was endeavouring to build up another “Wailing Wall” ... UNRRA was the kicked around stepchild of the military – one branch of which would howl for our teams and another branch of which would prevent us from getting them in the field by withholding from us priority and deny us transport and supplies. On top of this there was a bottleneck in the European Headquarters of U.N.R.R.A. in London, which is comical to look back upon now but which at the time was one of the most exasperating situations I have ever encountered.’9 Edmison had to deal with the annoyance of having forty fully trained teams waiting at the Mobilization Centre because seventy tons of their equipment had been sitting at dockside in England for over six weeks. The military had initially insisted that the Administration provide its own transportation for its teams and only belatedly admitted joint responsibility. Transportation proved to be a nightmare, prompting Edmison to rail at the military authorities for dumping previously condemned trucks on UNRRA. The operational bottlenecks delayed the teams’ arrival in the field for far too long and meant that the first ones were often poorly equipped. And later, when the teams were finally deployed, Edmison had to contend with unpaid and overworked staff, who threatened to resign, simply because he could not persuade the ERO to send out enough qualified finance officers and auditors. A fellow Canadian and personal family friend on his staff, Charity Grant, found Edmison amiable to work for but did not believe that he had either ‘a strong enough personality’ or an important enough position to make an impression at the highest policy levels.10 The net result of the ineptitude on the part of both the military and UNRRA was muddied relations between the two sides, a soiled public image for UNRRA, and hardships for those who were sent ill-equipped, understaffed, unpaid, and without any supervisory advice to begin UNRRA’s work. But, despite all the confusion, conflict, and public controversy, the military continued to request more teams and the teams did go forward. The initial 15 UNRRA teams mobilized on 15 April 1945 had grown to 322 by the end of June. William D. Lightall and the Belsen Survivors Although the existence of the concentration camps was known even before the war ended, the release of graphic and deeply distressing

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photos of the Belsen survivors exposed the human horror of the Holocaust in a way the world could no longer deny. Matthew Nesbitt, a Canadian soldier, recounted the horrific experience that awaited the British and Canadian soldiers of the Allied 21st Army Group when they liberated the Belsen concentration camp on 15 April 1945. Nesbitt led a small unit of fourteen volunteers, who travelled to the camp to assist in feeding and providing preliminary medical attention to its population. He and his fellow soldiers found sixty thousand inmates at Belsen in critical condition, clinging to life in the most vile and filthy conditions imaginable. Many were in the final stages of dying; another ten thousand had already died from typhus or starvation but remained unburied, often sharing bunks with those still alive. The only way for Nesbitt and the others to determine who was alive was to go into each individual hut and ‘shake whoever was on that little slab ... if they didn’t move, they were dead.’11 Since the military did not have the resources to cope with this level of medical emergency, disease and malnutrition continued to take their toll, with another fourteen thousand dying over the next five days and fourteen thousand more in the following weeks. Belsen was a grim prelude to the human carnage that awaited the first UNRRA teams to arrive in Germany. It was from among these concentration-camp survivors that the first large-scale movement of post-war refugees occurred in June 1945. When Sweden offered to take in ten thousand survivors from the Belsen concentration camp for medical care and recuperation, a special UNRRA team under the direction of a Canadian air force veteran, Wing Commander William Lightall, was sent to Lübeck, Germany, to organize and carry out the transfer of these people. A Montrealer and son of the poet of the same name, Lightall had won the Distinguished Flying Cross in 1917. When the Second World War broke out, he enlisted in the Royal Canadian Air Force (RCAF) as a recruiting officer and later commanded training schools at Sainte-Marguerite, Quebec, and Manning, Manitoba. Lightall joined UNRRA in 1945 and the Lübeck assignment was his first in this new role. While he either did not write any letters about the transfer or they have not survived, another UNRRA official who worked with him left a memoir describing the events of June 1945. This was Nils Melin, a naturalized American citizen who, after being unable to join the American armed services during the war, served in the Royal Norwegian Air Force until 1944 when he volunteered for service with UNRRA. He later wrote his memoir in the belief that ‘not enough can be said for the good work done by UNRRA and for the

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resulting outcome of that work, as a counterweight to the rich harvest of dirt and filth thrown at this most unique welfare organization in history during its short existence.’ Melin’s account provides a vivid and harrowing description of the events of 19 June 1945, when the first trains arrived in Lübeck from Belsen: I do not think that I exaggerate if I say without exception everyone’s face in that group grew quite grey and drawn as we watched the first living skeletons from Belsen being carried into the shaded reception hall. With the most vivid imagination in the world one could not have pictured anything nearly as fearful as the scene we were just witnessing. Dried human skin barely covered the sharp edges of bones which had ceased to move a long time ago. Only the eyes seemed doubly alive. In very short time several hundred stretchers with their tragic burdens had been lined up in the hall which now hummed with activity. Faint groans, hollow echoing coughs and whispered commands from every corner of the colossal room made us feel as if we were living through the most horrible of nightmares. And in addition the air had very quickly become quite indescribably evil.

Melin described how the work of transferring the Belsen camp survivors ‘went on at a very hectic tempo and almost continuously for six long weeks. Innumerable difficulties turned up and were solved between battles.’ The scenes he witnessed left a lasting impression on him: As the endless files of ambulances carried the patients from train to hospital and from hospital to the waiting ships in a daily mad routine, the courtyard and wards of the kasern [a camp in permanent low-rise buildings, often a former German army centre] became a stage for a scene of the most heartbreaking nature imaginable. There were sudden deaths and burials; there were moments when all work automatically stopped and everybody’s eyes automatically centered on a forlorn little group in the center of the square, a family united after six or more years of separation. There was a mother feverishly searching every corner of the wards for her only son who had died years before in Buchenwald concentration camp. There was hysteria and madness, laughter and tears. There were the tiny little starved children, born in one of Hitler’s death factories, where their parents had been burnt alive before their own eyes. There was the half ironical visit of high ranking German officers who were being forced to ‘inspect’ the human product of their own making. To our great astonishment some

168 A World Uprooted actually cried like little children. One nearly lost his precious life on the spot [having] been recognized by one of our patients who spontaneously attacked him drawing a long and well sharpened knife.

Ships were delayed, trains did not arrive, and a new transit centre had to be arranged at a few hours’ notice on the docks of Lübeck harbour. Yet ‘the work went on and the ten thousand arrived in Sweden almost on schedule.’ Melin was speaking for his UNRRA colleagues when he concluded, ‘Yes, our work at Lubeck was indeed like a mad dream. But it left something buried deep down in our hearts which can perhaps best be described as a strong feeling of humility mingled with an everlasting uneasiness over the fate of mankind.’12 Whether or not Lightall was too busy with the demands of his huge task to write about it, Melin’s account lends support to the success of Lightall’s efforts. Meeting unexpected emergency conditions meant that UNRRA often had to depart from its planned agenda; off-the-cuff solutions became the alternative to doing nothing. William Rogers and the UNRRA Team at Pilsen UNRRA teams originally were planned to have twelve or thirteen members, including doctors and nurses along with specialized welfare, supply, and transportation officers. With the emergency situation confronting the Allies following the armistice, however, UNRRA resorted to ‘spear-head’ teams consisting of three or four staff officers. Bill Rogers was sent to Pilsen, Czechoslovakia, on one of those spear-head teams, UNRRA Team 131. Appointed to UNRRA effective 1 January 1945 as a displaced-persons officer, Rogers was given the title of administrative officer for supply, but he quickly discovered that he had to be a jack of all trades. ‘Educated as an academic in the humanities, aged twenty six, with no social work training, I couldn’t tell a sack of flour from a bucket of lard, but I was soon to learn.’13 He had been a Canadian naval lieutenant during the Second World War, working in naval intelligence in Ottawa at Naval Headquarters. While he was fluent in French and German, valuable language skills for naval intelligence, his poor eyesight had meant that his repeated requests for active overseas service were turned down. In the autumn of 1944 he eagerly seized what was perhaps his last opportunity for overseas service when the chance came to work with UNRRA. After a trip across a war-ravaged Europe that resembled, he wrote,

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the Apocalypse as viewed through a kaleidoscope, he arrived in Pilsen a week after V-E Day, only to confront an even more distressing sight. ‘The scene before us was the most concrete and concentrated manifestation of that collapse [of Western civilization] that one could imagine. Here in a small area in a small city in a small country in the heart of Europe was a microcosm of devastated Europe itself: every nationality, every walk of life, every age group, united only by the bonds of misery and despair.’ When he toured the stables that housed the camp with his colleagues, ‘we saw people of all ages, just lying on the straw on this sunny May afternoon – hopeless, inert people with nothing to get up for ... The feeling I had was that of a person who has just turned up a stone and uncovered all sorts of unpleasant forms of life: an instinctive desire to put the stone in place again and run from the spot. The sun shone that day with infinite sadness, as if nature were grieving over the insanity and wickedness of man.’14 Rogers, like others on UNRRA’s staff, attempted to cope by distancing ‘the insanity and wickedness of man’ from normal human behaviour. The problems Rogers and his team faced were huge. The U.S. army of occupation was anything but cooperative with the representatives from UNRRA Team 131. The food supplies available to the camp were totally inadequate and did not include any fresh food. Rogers remembered that ‘the meat was tinned, the milk evaporated, the vegetables dehydrated.’15 Most of the food they received consisted of dry rations prepared for the German army, not at all adequate for people emerging from years of concentration-camp existence. Medical care was equally precarious, although the American army doctor assigned to the camp proved of great assistance. Rogers did recall with satisfaction and pride that, in the midst of these dire conditions, and with thousands of displaced persons passing through the camp during the three months he was there, ‘we did not have a single death from any cause, even old age.’16 His experience was not unique; the vigilant efforts of UNRRA’s personnel kept Europe from suffering the ravages of uncontrolled epidemics like those that followed the First World War. In addition to the shortage of supplies, primitive living conditions, and medical challenges, there were political complications. Housing both former prisoners-of-war and displaced persons, the camp was a meeting ground for many of Europe’s nationalities. Rogers wrote: ‘We were at the vortex of the whirlwind which had swept over Europe and the whole of Europe had been dropped on our doorstep. Among our thirty-two nationalities, we had all the major ones, and most of the

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minor ones of Europe.’17 These people turned to the UNRRA officials with high hopes that all their problems would be quickly resolved. ‘And so they came to us in endless succession: mothers with babies that needed extra nourishment; people without blankets; a person of one nationality married to a person of another nationality wanting to go to a third country.’18 The UNRRA team succeeded in getting the various refugee groups to accept its leadership. Once that was accomplished, the team set to work to improve the hygiene and to bring better food for the camp inhabitants. While slow progress was made, there was never any certainty about what awaited around the corner. ‘The astonishing thing about a D.P. camp,’ Rogers later wrote, ‘was the way in which everything hit you at once. No matter how well organized we became later on, it remained true. There would be a lull of a few hours, and then all hell would break loose again.’19After three weeks, the UNRRA team managed to find a better camp site, adjacent to the Skoda armaments factory, with some twenty-three wooden barracks suitable for housing. Named Camp Karlov, the site quickly grew in size to some 2,000 people, of whom 1,200–1,500 were displaced Eastern Europeans who refused to return to their countries of origin. Rogers estimated that between six and seven million displaced persons were repatriated both east and west in Europe between May and October 1945. ‘At times it seemed to us as if all of them must be passing through our camp during those hectic weeks of May, June and July.’ He also remembered what he proudly termed ‘the spell of the two miracles which will always be a source of amazement and thanksgiving to me: no serious outbreaks of disease and no major food crisis.’20 Before Rogers left Camp Karlov in early August 1945, he had the satisfaction of observing that ‘gradually our role became what we wanted it to be: that of advising, helping, supervising and providing supplies for people who were interested in helping themselves.’21 He celebrated the welcome change of attitude among the people living in the camp. ‘These people, who three months before had been lying on filthy straw, inert and helpless[,] had risen to the point where they could manage, responsibly and along democratic lines, the entire life of their community.’22 His team’s accomplishments were quite remarkable given the limitations under which they worked. UNRRA teams in the spring of 1945 were always understaffed and overworked. Adequate supplies and provisions were often not available to the military units charged with assisting the UNRRA teams. More fundamentally, even in those cases

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where the military functioned well with the local UNRRA team, it lacked the requisite skills to support UNRRA’s work in ministering to the emotional needs of people who had survived the conflagration. In addition, local military authorities were highly transitory during these months; one camp had eleven changes of command in ten days. The result was that, despite all the limitations of the spear-head teams, and for all their shortcomings, they often provided the only continuity of management within the camps in the early days.23 It should be kept in mind, too, that these early teams were deployed to the field before any headquarters had been established in the zone to provide guidance or supervision. They worked independently of the higher echelon of UNRRA; each team had to devise its own policies and procedures for the conditions of the setting where they were located. This did have its advantages, providing the team with the discretion to deal with special cases on an individual basis. William Rogers freely acknowledged that, although the Hungarians were not strictly eligible for UNRRA’s assistance, his team bent the rules, something that would not have been possible if there had been any supervision from headquarters. 24 Bill Rogers was transferred from Pilsen to Munich in August 1945, where he spent a brief time at Pasing, the U.S. Zone headquarters, trying unsuccessfully to untangle the administrative nightmare that had been allowed to develop. Rogers was doubtful that the headquarters there had ever worked smoothly. The effort left him exhausted, to the point where several of his fellow Canadian UNRRAIDS implored him to take a vacation. Rogers seized the opportunity to spend a few days travelling with fellow Canadian David Wodlinger, with whom he had become friends at the Maryland training centre. Shortly thereafter he was made the UNRRA director of education for Bavaria. Roger’s work in Bavaria was challenging but at least there he could see a tangible improvement in the lives of the displaced persons. His position allowed him to circumvent prescribed procurement channels to help the displaced persons in the various camps organize a system of education for their children and for themselves. It was his role in founding the UNRRA University at the Deutsches Museum, Munich, however, which he viewed as the finest accomplishment of his UNRRA years. Unfortunately, UNRRA headquarters in London did not ‘welcome’ the initiative at all and believed that local UNRRA officers, including Rogers, had overstepped their authority in launching it. To headquarters, it ‘suggested a kind of permanence which was the last

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thing’ they wanted. Repatriation not education was UNRRA’s primary goal,25 and steps were taken to stifle any future initiatives of this kind. Yet Rogers remained proud of his creation, even if it did not long survive his departure. That the university opened at all is a testimony to the congenial informal working arrangements that Rogers developed outside formal channels with the UNRRA team at the Deutsches Museum.26 For Rogers, the chaos of the early days was clearly balanced by the satisfaction he drew from his ability to make a difference in the lives he touched. While his later administrative work for UNRRA brought more responsibility, he found those aspects of his work most rewarding that again allowed him to reach out to meet the needs of the camps’ population for independence and dignity – even if it meant ignoring UNRRA policy directives and administrative procedures. After the Holocaust: Ethel Ostry and Charity Grant The first dramatic stage of relief operations saw ‘flying squads’ and spear-head teams provide assistance to the millions of people uprooted by the war who desperately wanted to return to their former homes. This then gave way to a more controlled pattern of care and repatriation of those who remained behind, either because transportation during the winter months was unavailable or, as it turned out, because some of these people simply did not want to return to home countries where political power had changed hands. These unexpected events forced a change of plans and priorities. UNRRA had not anticipated that hundreds of thousands of people would be unwilling to return to countries that had fallen under Soviet control, and its problems were compounded by the Jewish infiltrees who had fled into Germany and were seeking UNRRA’s assistance. Violent attacks against Jews in different parts of Poland hastened their departure from their pre-war homes into the American Zone, which, unlike the British Zone, had relatively lenient policies for the infiltrees, many of whom hoped to move to Palestine to help create a Jewish homeland. Planning for the assembly of national groups in special camps began throughout Germany. The Allied policy of treating displaced persons according to their nationality rather than religion, while an admirable attempt not to perpetuate the distinctions of Nazi racial theory, was incredibly cruel because Jews found themselves sharing the same camps with those they considered to be their former enemies. In the middle of May 1945, word of the callous and inhumane treatment of

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Jewish displaced persons reached Washington. President Truman authorized an inspection of displaced-persons camps, and the scathing report that followed condemned the treatment of Jewish displaced persons within UNRRA facilities as little better than that under the Nazis. The president wrote to General Eisenhower about the Jewish displaced persons, ordering him to improve their accommodation, food, and clothing, separate them from former enemies and tormentors, and, in general, better the quality of their lives. Eisenhower’s orders were followed in some places but not in others. The army did establish eighty separate centres for Jewish displaced persons. But, while many of these centres offered much better conditions than the refugees had experienced before, some were still filthy, overcrowded, and rigidly organized well into the fall of 1945. When separate camps were established for Jewish refugees in an attempt to improve their appalling living conditions, Charity Grant and Ethel Ostry were among those chosen as camp directors and principal welfare officers, charged with bringing relief and order to a mounting refugee crisis. Both of these strong-willed, independent Canadian women discovered the level of ingenuity and tenacity required to function as an UNRRA camp director or welfare officer. Their stories provide a revealing perspective on the changing attitudes towards the Jewish people within Occupied Germany who had survived the Holocaust only to find themselves stateless. They are also testimony to the courage and creativity of the Jewish people and those who came to help them rebuild their lives amidst chaos and prejudice. Charity Grant was not a likely choice to head what she termed a ‘Jewish show camp.’ Camp Eschweg was a former air base smack on the border of the Russian Zone, and, as the closest Jewish camp to Pasing headquarters, it provided a convenient destination for touring official delegations. Grant’s circuitous journey to being appointed the director of Camp Eschweg exposes the administrative turmoil that plagued UNRRA’s early history, while also demonstrating the multiple ways in which one spirited Canadian woman confronted or circumvented anything that stood in the way of her efforts to improve the lives of the displaced persons under her supervision. Grant viewed employment with UNRRA as preferable to continuing on a career path within the Canadian civil service that appeared headed nowhere. The opportunity for travel and the possibility of obtaining work more exciting than her ‘fairly dull job, mostly doing statistics, with the Department of Munitions and Supplies during the war’ made

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UNRRA an attractive employment prospect. Moreover, her most recent experience of having successfully written the External Affairs examinations and then being offered a position as a senior clerk had confirmed her belief that the end of the war would bring even more reduced opportunities for women in the public sphere. Fortunately for her, she was well connected in Ottawa political circles. Not only was she related to Vincent Massey, the current Canadian high commissioner to London, but unknown to her at the time, Mike Pearson, whom she had met in London, had given her a strong recommendation for employment with UNRRA ‘because I was one of the few who hadn’t lobbied for one.’27 Ironically, she abandoned her dry statistics job in Ottawa only to be recruited originally to do statistical work in the Cairo Office within the Balkan mission. Like her fellow Canadian recruits, Grant began her journey with UNRRA at the Maryland training centre, which she later remembered as ‘an extraordinary place, where our training was exotic, centring mainly on European history,’ and with little applicability to her future work with displaced persons. The main benefit she derived from her time there were the personal friendships she formed. These would endure and anchor her chaotic existence in the field. On Sunday, 19 March 1945, she boarded the freighter Kota Gede to depart for London en route to the Cairo Office in the Balkan mission. Her ‘hut mate’ on the crossing, a vivacious American social worker named Susan Pettiss, was to recall that despite her family’s prestige and political connections, ‘there was no sign of elitism about Charity.’ Rather, her ‘Canadian openness’ and ‘delicious sense of humour’ made her a delightful companion on the transatlantic crossing. The two women became fast friends: ‘We laughed our way across the Atlantic.’ In retrospect, Pettiss realized that ‘our levity was a mild form of hysteria – a combination of excitement, tension and uncertainty.’28 When it was discovered that Grant spoke German, she was transferred to the German operations. For her first assignment, she joined Marjorie Bradford in Paris at SHAEF headquarters, G-5 Division. Together they were responsible for working out the mechanics of the agreements governing voluntary-agency personnel seconded to UNRRA. Bradford was an extremely well-qualified and highly regarded Canadian social worker. In contrast, Grant did not have any social-work credentials whatsoever to warrant this assignment. Years later, she would claim to have been given the job solely on the basis of her unusual name, ‘Charity,’ and because she was Canadian, ‘which somehow qualified me

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to act as an interpreter between the British and Americans.’ She continued her liaison work with the voluntary societies after her transfer to the District Headquarters at Wiesbaden until there was reorganization. ‘During these days,’ she said, ‘there seemed to be a series of blowouts followed by re-organizations.’ After that particular reorganization, she requested and was granted permission to work directly with displaced persons as the supply officer on the Eschweg team.29 Her career as supply officer was cut short when, almost immediately after her arrival, the camp director, an ex-military man named Fox, and the rest of the Americans on the team walked out over an argument with the military officials. Out of necessity, she was made acting director. Eschweg, which had been set up to accommodate Jewish infiltrees streaming into the American Zone from the pogroms in Poland, was connected to the underground railway for illegal immigrants to Palestine. The official statistics, Charity Grant acknowledged, would have recorded a static population which obscured the reality of steady migration from the camp. The camp leaders had one set of identification cards which they passed around as returning Jewish displaced persons replaced ones who had fled illegally to Palestine. Whatever her reservations about her lack of social-work qualifications or the limitations imposed by her Anglican background, it is clear that Grant endeavoured to understand the culture of the people whom she had come to help. She was straightforward and freely admitted to inadvertently having made mistakes. One such incident occurred during her first visit to some of the displaced persons who were housed in town but who drew their rations from the UNRRA camp. She shook hands with all of the leaders of the Orthodox Jewish community, only to learn later that it was taboo for an Orthodox Jewish man to touch a woman who was not his wife without undergoing a special ritual bath afterwards. It would take her some time to learn to deal with the Jewish people within the confines of their own culture. Once, for example, when clothing was being distributed, a woman, who had initially rejected an article of clothing despite Grant’s assurance of how nice she looked in it, subsequently changed her mind after it was selected by another woman. Grant found herself facing an irate screaming woman because she had not forced her to take the article of clothing. She knew that the woman’s overreaction was the emotional legacy of all she had been through. Much later, she would look up this woman in New York and recall that ‘it meant a great deal to her that she could buy me a cup of coffee instead of being beholden to me.’ Grant believed that she

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found it easier to deal with the emotional warfare that was a legacy of life in concentration camps than many Jewish UNRRA workers, who were often quickly labelled ‘Yiddish anti-Semites’ when controversies arose. Many of the refugees were psychologically fragile as a result of their prolonged physical and emotional suffering under the Nazi regime. Others were bent on revenge, which took many forms, from ‘confiscating’ German property to murder. When Grant entered the field, murders, lootings, and attacks on the camp’s population were still fairly commonplace events which served as reminders that these were dangerous times. She found that her camp’s population was susceptible to panic-induced riots, often triggered by unsubstantiated rumours which spread like wildfire through the camp’s grapevine. During the first Passover, a mass exodus from the camps was only narrowly averted when a rumour spread that local Germans planned to attack the assembly centre. Grant found herself standing on a truck in front of the gates until her welfare officer could fetch the military. On another occasion, when two drunken Russian soldiers stumbled across the border into camp in the dark of night, a rumour quickly circulated of an impending Russian pogrom, threatening to incite another mass exodus of the camp’s population. Eventually, Grant came to know the pulse of the camp well enough to detect when trouble was brewing. One day, while making her appointed rounds, she realized that the camp was too quiet. Stealthily, she slipped among the crowd gathered in the dining hall, whereupon she discovered that the whole camp was conducting a trial of a known KAPO, a prisoner who had collaborated with the Nazis. Knowing that he would be killed, she ‘quickly and quietly’ secured the American military’s aid and was able to diffuse the situation without incident. Camp riots were only one of the challenges during her time as the director of Camp Eschweg. She dealt with a constant stream of official visitors, each of whom ‘tended to view camp life through the confines of their own particular concerns rather than through the eyes of the D.P.s.’30 There were military inspectors, whose American sensibilities were shocked by the lack of separate toilets for men and women. In contrast, Grant’s concern was to improve the general level of the camp’s sanitary conditions. There were visits from Orthodox rabbis, who demanded the closure of the kitchens until they met kosher standards, despite the strong protests from many Jews within the camp. Grant found that a number of Orthodox Jews had drifted from the practice of

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keeping kosher during the war and were now primarily interested in obtaining a greater variety and quantity of food. She therefore focused her ‘horse-trading activities’ on improving the camp’s food supply. Grant’s approach to directing life in the camp was somewhat unconventional. It is clear that she tolerated some black-market activities if they benefited the camp’s inhabitants, though her official camp reports contained no record of her barter activities outside UNRRA’s normal procurement channels. When she saw that the original trucks assigned to her were ‘ready for the scrap pile,’ she used her personal cigarette and liquor rations to bargain with the American military officer in charge of the transport depot. ‘In the end we simply changed the identification numbers on the vehicles.’ Grant got some trucks in good running condition with decent tires, without which she would not have been able to transport the supplies needed to feed the camp. Nor was she beyond browbeating the military to get extra supplies for pregnant and nursing mothers or boosting her supply reserve by drawing rations for three thousand when there were in fact only two thousand residents in the camp. She viewed these supplies as a safety valve for future contingencies. Not surprisingly, her procurement activities did not always meet with her field supervisor’s approval. As she recalled, they spent a lot of their time writing reports complaining about each other. Grant’s camp never settled down. As the camp director, she contended with food shortages, riots, and even its forced evacuation in the spring of 1946, when a dam broke upstream and flooded the camp. Hence, she seldom had time to record the week’s activities in her diary in other than the most cursory fashion. Eventually, the hectic pace of constant crisis management took its toll. One perfunctory diary entry sprawled across the calendar for an entire week captured both her extreme fatigue and her straightforward personality. It simply said: ‘A God awful week.’31 As she explained her decision to leave, ‘eventually you get to the point where you no longer wanted to cope, or at least I did. I decided it was time to come home.’ Compassionate pragmatism best describes her approach to life as the director of Camp Eschweg. ‘It was,’ as she said, ‘an extraordinary experience for an innocent abroad.’32 Whatever her own qualms in later years about her abilities as a camp director, at the time her superiors at district headquarters wanted to stress ‘that Miss Grant has been doing an excellent job and, despite the impression of a visiting Colonel from the Third Army, has been able to cope with the situation at this camp.’33 Like Charity Grant, Ethel Ostry empathized with those whose lives

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had been torn apart by events beyond their control. Because of her own ethnic background and her training as a psychiatric social worker, she had a personal mission to bring whatever assistance she could to any Jewish refugees she discovered. Born in a small town near Odessa in the Ukraine, she emigrated to Winnipeg as a small child with her family. During the 1930s, she reaffirmed her heritage by travelling widely in Europe, the Soviet Union, and Palestine. Unlike Grant, she was a well-educated and experienced social worker. She had been the executive secretary of the Family and Child Welfare Department of the Baron de Hirsch Institute, a centre of Jewish welfare activity in Montreal, and studied psychiatric social work at the University of Chicago. She worked in Toronto hospitals until the end of the Second World War, when she volunteered to serve abroad with UNRRA. In 1945 Ostry was assigned initially as a principal welfare officer at Camp Glasenbach but was then reassigned as director of Team 502 at Schloss Langenzelle, where she was to organize one of the first reception centres specifically established for Jewish displaced persons. Upon her arrival, she found the camp’s 250 inhabitants living in unbearable physical conditions under strict military confinement imposed by the American military police. Ostry encountered one roadblock after another as she tried to help her charges. A lot of her time, she later remembered, ‘seemed to be taken up in receiving visitors, showing them through the camp and trying in every way to impress on them the urgent needs, both for immediate physical welfare and for ultimate rehabilitation.’34 The number of Jewish refugees in the camp swelled, creating a situation that Ostry described as ‘intolerable.’ Her own efforts to improve living conditions resulted in ‘a number of unpleasant collisions with members of her own staff and ... superiors.’ While her staff was fed up with ‘holding the bag,’ Ostry never shied away from conflict in her tireless efforts to bring improvements to the people in her camp.35 Her strenuous lobbying succeeded in obtaining better facilities for her refugees in the city of Stuttgart and the camp was moved there. But the better quarters brought new challenges: Jewish people from other camps asked to be transferred there. One day a group of thirty men arrived from a hospital camp. They had walked for miles. They were sick men, with sunken eyes, emaciated and bedraggled, most of them still wearing the rags of their concentration-camp clothing. Groups such as these, as well as individuals who believed their relatives might be in the centre ... or who simply had no other place to go ...

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increased the population to such an extent that the rations and supplies I had originally arranged for were gravely inadequate. More rooms, more food, more clothing, bedding, supplies and facilities for work projects were all urgently needed.36

When her immediate superior did not respond immediately to her urgent request for additional assistance, Ostry determined to solve these problems herself, showing commendable initiative but leaving herself open to disciplinary action. She ran afoul of the local American military commander, Major James Boone, who tried to have her dismissed and removed from the camp. He accused the Canadian UNRRAID of having ‘a most demanding and imperious manner,’ someone who was ‘definitely not the type to work successfully with American military authorities.’37 Ostry, for example, backed a residents’ hunger strike called to protest the army’s demand that all meals be served in the communal dining area rather than in the private residences. For American military officials unaccustomed to dealing with women in leadership positions, Ostry clearly defied the typical stereotype of passivity and ladylike deference. She continued to serve in Stuttgart, struggling to obtain better treatment for the Jewish refugees in an uphill battle against both the uncooperative American occupation forces and an insensitive UNRRA bureaucracy. Finally, as the friction between Ostry and her superiors continued to mount, at the end of September 1945, UNRRA decided to eliminate her need to liaise directly with the military authorities. She was ‘sacked,’ as one of her Canadian teammates wrote home, and was unwillingly reassigned as the principal welfare officer of Team 562, which was directed to create a new Jewish displaced persons centre at Furth, near Nuremberg.38 Once again, the challenges of obtaining even minimally tolerable facilities and rations appeared to be overwhelming. Ostry struggled with her professional ethics as she confronted the military authorities who had ordered a move of the camp – something the Jewish refugees strongly opposed. When Ostry took the side of the refugees, especially the sick and suffering, she was ignored. ‘From all sides, people cried out to me for help. I felt revolted by my association with such treatment [the forcible relocation of refugees]. Was this any role for a welfare worker to play? Was I to assist in breaking up homes, family relationships? What was I doing, carrying out orders loathsome to my conscience and my sense of justice?’39 Yet she continued her work, helping individuals wherever possible.

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Ostry’s second-last posting was to Camp Foehrenwald, southwest of Munich near Wolfratshausen, in May 1946. She was assigned as the principal welfare officer and later, in November 1946, was transferred to the Gauting Sanatorium where patients with tuberculosis were confined. Foehrenwald, where approximately 5,000 Jewish displaced persons were being housed, was among the largest of the Jewish installations in the American zone of occupation and would be the final IRO displaced-persons camp to close, functioning until 1957 as a home for Jews who had no place to go. During the spring of 1946, observing an ‘increase in disturbances and misdemeanors’ among the Jews under her care, Ostry offered a moving and humane perspective on how the rebirth of Zionism coloured UNRRA’s repatriation efforts in the American Zone. The Foehrenwald Jewish community quickly became a forceful refugee voice and held mass protests, particularly against the British captures of Zionist underground operatives in Palestine and the Exodus of 1947.40 Ostry’s account vividly describes the emotions and fears among the Jewish community and the continuing underlying tensions with the larger German community and American military authorities which frequently erupted into violence.41 While she admired the courage and perseverance of those of her people who clung to the hope of creating a Jewish homeland, she was all too aware of the human costs ‘of broken homes, malnutrition, disease, even starvation’ for the tens of thousands of Jews ‘who deluded by promises of haven in Germany and a permanent home in Palestine, left the countries of their birth.’42 She saw it in the faces of those infiltrees whom she was forced to turn away. The unrest at Ostry’s camps was symptomatic of the widespread uneasiness among refugees observed throughout the zone by other Canadians. The net effect was that the ill feeling spilled over and contaminated UNRRA’s relationships, particularly with the Jewish community.43 In Ostry’s mind, much of this discontent was attributable to the arbitrariness of the screening process used to determine eligibility for UNRRA’s assistance and the rigid disciplinary measures imposed by the military authorities. She condemned the screening practices followed both at Camp Foehrenwald and at the Gauting Sanatorium, which failed to detect known Nazis collaborators while casting out Jewish infiltrees. The Jewish populations at Camp Foehrenwald and the Gauting Sanatorium were outraged at the accusation that they were harbouring Nazis. Screening, she contended, was designed to reduce the number of displaced persons eligible for UNRRA’s assistance.44

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UNRRA teams in the British Zone shared Ostry’s conviction that the screening teams were ‘eviction minded’ and would continue rescreening camps until their predetermined quota had been reached.45 As a result of the screening and military investigations to rout out criminals, black marketing, pilfering, and violence became more common, a form of passive resistance for those displaced persons who sought resettlement not repatriation. Ostry observed first hand the black-market activities within the camp, noting that those involved ‘took care not to be actually caught at it by strangers whose attitude was unknown.’46 Many were arrested for ‘having in their possession such things as a few boxes of sardines, a length of cloth for a dress, a bag of groceries ... For instance the mother who exchanged her tin of UNRRA sardines for a cup of fresh milk for her baby was weighed in the same scale as the man who bought a cow from the Germans and slaughtered it to sell the fresh meat to the other D.P.’s or as the group who organized wholesale operations in food or in clothing.’ The American army’s heavy-handed response on a number of occasions to rumoured disturbances within the camp, she believed, ‘was doomed to futility,’ producing only ‘deep sorrow and silence.’47 Increasingly, her time was consumed not in rehabilitation work but in protecting the refugees from unreasonable restrictions on individual liberty and the harshness with which infractions among the camp’s population were dealt with by the military authorities. The frustrations she experienced, and expressed, as a result reflected the changing mood being reported throughout the American Zone during the spring of 1946. In May 1946 the deputy director of the American Zone reported that serious complaints over the handling of disturbances or alleged black-market activities within the camps were being received from all levels of field personnel: ‘UNRRA personnel, whose mission is to administer to the spiritual and moral needs as well as the physical requirements of displaced persons, were finding themselves in the position of “buffers” between the displaced persons on one side and the German and US Military authorities on the other. UNRRA District and Headquarters executives were expressing considerable alarm over the situation.’48 One of the many irritations that Ostry had to overcome was being repeatedly reassigned from one UNRRA team to another. Yet, despite the clashes and repeated apparent demotions, she was one of UNRRA’s longest-serving employees. In the end, her strong ethnic and religious identification with the Jewish community outweighed her professional ethical reservations. In later years, she was to recall numerous reward-

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ing experiences along with the gruelling work: ‘Young couples were married, occasions for great rejoicing ... Birthdays were celebrated too, with great warmth, and always I was asked to share in these occasions. A very special party was given for a six year old boy who had just recently been reunited with his parents ... One day I went hospital visiting on what was also a very special occasion; three mothers had successfully given birth to healthy babies, all on the same day. A birth was always a signal for resurgence of joy and confidence, for were not the children the hope of the future?’49 She also remembered being able to assist a young Polish man, who had survived the Buchenwald concentration camp, to locate his sister in Toronto. ‘This was not the only occasion when I was able to help in reuniting families, but the fact that Tovje’s sister had been found in Canada and in Toronto, too, made it especially memorable for me.’50 Ostry was indefatigable in trying to assist Jewish refugees. After her transfer to Gauting, she listened to patients who poured out their troubles to her, gave advice when requested, and worked to provide better leisure facilities. She recalled, ‘I organized regular school classes, a technical course in radio, a dress-making course, as well as classes in various arts and crafts such as painting, drawing, modelling, pottery, woodworking and embroidery ... The patients found these new contacts not only enjoyable but stimulating, and helpful in relating themselves to life outside the sanatorium.’51 She was constantly writing the Canadian Jewish Congress (CJC) seeking support for her ‘informal’ projects. Shortly after she arrived at the hospital, she began to hear complaints about the food from the patients. When her representations to UNRRA and local philanthropic groups failed to produce the consistent supply of daily supplementary extra rations she believed were necessary, she turned to the CJC. In requesting food parcels and clothing for the patients at the sanatorium, she repeatedly warned that each parcel must be sent via regular German mail addressed to the specific patient receiving the package: as an UNRRA employee, she could not accept packages on the patients’ behalf. Ostry also attempted to establish contacts between the Lithuanian Jews in the American Zone and Canadian Lithuanian Jews, a project that was especially close to her heart for, in May 1947, she had married Chaim Genkind of the Munich Jewish Federation of Lithuanians. Her most imaginative plan, which proved to be too much for the CJC to contemplate, was to try to arrange a Canadian tour for an orchestra comprised of Jewish concentrationcamp victims who were still in Germany.52 Hers was a life of service.

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Soldiers of Repatriation: Carl Hiltz, John Cheetham, and Thomas Keenan Even as operations were in full swing in the field, plans were being made to reduce many of UNRRA’s responsibilities or transfer them to more permanent organizations. Those Canadians who remained with UNRRA during this period encountered new and unique challenges. Mary Craig McGeachy’s removal and the consequent amalgamation of the Welfare Division into the newly created Displaced Persons and Repatriation Division in April 1946 signalled change. Similarly, a series of tough new measures, sanctioned by the Council to remove obstacles to repatriation, profoundly altered the working environment for UNRRA field staff and the living conditions for the displaced-persons communities throughout Germany. Coinciding with the Council’s renewed insistence on repatriation, finally, were a series of administrative directives issued in July 1946 that sought to eliminate any obstacles to repatriation in the camps, including the removal of those camp leaders, national liaison officers, or UNRRA personnel who opposed repatriation. Polish liaison officers who initially represented the Polish government-in-exile in the field on repatriation questions and actively discouraged repatriation back to Poland were replaced by other officers representing the newly elected pro-Communist Polish government who were determined to encourage repatriation. These changes reflected Director General La Guardia’s strong personal penchant to shift UNRRA’s focus increasingly away from welfare work to repatriation. Welfare programs had come to be associated in some minds with encouraging a sense of permanency and continuing dependency that boded ill for increasing repatriation numbers. UNRRA’s welfare workers were increasingly criticized for initiating programs that made the displaced persons ‘too comfortable.’53 Educational, vocational training, or employment projects established with the cooperation of UNRRA, as mandated under the new July 1946 administrative orders, were to be ‘made available to displaced persons on a temporary basis pending their repatriation and are not to be of a character that they delay or prevent repatriation.’54 Instead of rehabilitating broken spirits and families, welfare workers were now expected to take the lead in UNRRA’s renewed repatriation efforts. Termination plans triggered another administrative reorganization, as consolidation and administrative streamlining efforts were carried down to the level of field operations. In preparation for UNRRA’s

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wind-down, teams were consolidated into larger area teams and the number of Class I UNRRA personnel cut. District directors, like the Canadian Andrew Dunn, received instructions to ‘scrutinize people we intended to hold from the repatriation angle. Anything that savoured of Welfare was not to be considered.’55 The area-team concept was designed to reduce the number of Class I UNRRA personnel in the field, thereby meeting increased budget restrictions and preparing for UNRRA’s anticipated withdrawal at the end of 1946. The remaining UNRRA Class I personnel were responsible for training their replacements, who had been chosen from among the displaced-persons population. As a consequence of the administrative streamlining, team directors’ administrative and supervisory responsibilities grew dramatically. As the end drew closer, qualified personnel left in droves to secure future employment, and morale among those who remained became difficult to maintain. Then, the expected termination date had to be pushed back as arrangements with UNRRA’s successor organization, the International Refugee Organization, were worked out. Dunn complained that uncertainty about the termination date had ‘caused dissatisfaction, indecision and in many cases resignation.’56 These sentiments would persist until UNRRA finally discontinued its operations in Europe on 30 June 1947. Moreover, as it became clear that UNRRA would close its doors before many individuals’ fates had been determined, the mood within some camps shifted towards despondency and covert dissent. To many in the field, it appeared that the very term ‘displaced persons’ had taken on a pejorative connotation. Accusations were made at UNRRA’s Council sessions that collaborators and war criminals were taking refuge in UNRRA’s camps, and displaced persons were held culpable for rising crime rates. As pressure to repatriate increased, populations were moved from camp to camp, reflecting the belief of some within UNRRA that the ‘shifting of the D.P. from one center to another is desirable so that they shall not become “too settled” in their conditions.’ Others, however, did not accept derogatory stereotypes of refugees; they believed that ‘the remaining small numbers of impoverished and disfranchised people caught and crushed like grains of sand between the milestones of war and power, cannot be left to the tender mercies of the yet unreformed German populace, nor be permitted to continue under the degrading effects of substandard institutional living.’57 Life with UNRRA seemed to be taking on a hard edge, increasingly tinged with political overtones. Both the displaced persons and UNRRA’s staff felt cut adrift without a clear sense of future direction.

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Why were UNRRA workers now seeing a renewed repatriation drive? In the period from liberation until the fall of 1945 when the military was in charge, ‘the number actively desiring repatriation outran the physical means ... There was no need to urge anyone to go.’ Although repatriation levels dwindled during the winter months, this was because of the shortage of available transportation and the fact that extreme winter conditions made large movements impractical. When repatriation levels continued to falter in the spring of 1946, however, there was a ‘spate of criticism and accusations.’58 The Council at its fourth and fifth sessions had already failed to address the problem to the satisfaction of the member governments, but that summer the Sixty–Day Ration Scheme (dubbed ‘Operation Grubstake’ by the Americans and ‘Operation Carrot’ by the British’) was put in place to entice Polish displaced persons to repatriate. Poles who returned home over the next three months were to be provided with a sixty-day supply of rations upon reaching home. For most displaced persons, the prospect of either repatriation to an uncertain future back home or the possibility of early resettlement elsewhere appeared equally grim. Within the camps, news from Eastern European countries was not encouraging repatriation and few countries had opened their doors for immigrants. It was clear to many in the field that these ‘hard-core’ displaced persons could not be repatriated. Other factors not initially anticipated complicated repatriation efforts. The American Zone especially faced continued pressures for shelter supplies and medical and welfare services from the swelling tide of increasingly well-organized groups of Jewish infiltrees, straining resources that were already tight. Dunn warned his staff in the Regensburg area that as many as 50,000 infiltrees were expected to arrive along what was then referred to as the ‘green trail’ from the Eastern Europe, which meant that ‘new camps would have to be set up and handled with less personnel than in the past. Recruiting had stopped, and conditions would probably be more trying and more difficult than ever.’59 Herein lay the quandary. It appeared that, even though UNRRA was taking a tough stance on repatriation, it could not stem the tide of those seeking shelter and resettlement. Army officials were pointing to statistics recording that, at the end of both March and April 1946, there were more people in the camps than at the beginning of the previous month. Desperate for assistance, many refugees sought refuge under the UNRRA umbrella by declaring themselves stateless and turning to underground forgers, including the unofficial firm of ‘underground forgers of Celle,’ to produce the necessary identification papers. The

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military responded by sending screening teams to weed out those not eligible for UNRRA’s care. Canadians would be among those assigned to accompany the army’s screening teams; needless to say, that screening met with a particularly cold reception in the Jewish camps. The victims of Nazism had become financial burdens. For many of the Canadians who remained with UNRRA during the final wind- down operations, the personal and professional challenges became more difficult to reconcile with their initial decision to serve. The disquiet within the rank and file was increasingly evident to Ken Barr, a Canadian and former Salvation Army Officer, as he travelled between area teams during his field-inspection trip in the early summer of 1946. In Barr’s opinion, when it came to the UNRRA role in Operation Carrot, ‘the only factor that dampens and creates a feeling of hesitation, is our lack of knowledge of the possibility of Repatriation meaning Rehabilitation in its truest sense ... One question dominating many minds in UNRRA is whether we are to change our objectives from one of Relief and Rehabilitation to one of political expediency ... I think it is a tragic error to penalize the UNRRA team people by threats of demobilisation for an attitude of non-enthusiasm in Repatriation when so little is being done at higher levels to provide the backing necessary to encourage people to go home.’60 UNRRA’s Administration judged all plans for working with the displaced persons in terms of their probable effect on repatriation.61 While, from the Administration’s perspective, it may have seemed administratively neater to insist on the active repatriation of all nationalities, to those in the field it was both impractical and unethical. Carl Hiltz and John Cheetham devised very different strategies for navigating their professional and personal relationships under the tougher administrative regime. And, predictably, the outcomes were as different as their personalities and backgrounds. Hiltz, a Salvation Army Officer who had decided to volunteer because ‘others had made great sacrifices ... we should not hesitate to do so,’ was an unassuming, pragmatic humanitarian.62 Initially assigned as the principal welfare officer, he was promoted to assistant district welfare officer in June 1946. Later that summer, he was appointed the director of Team 120 at Regensburg, and he next served as the director of one of the largest area teams headquartered in the same city. Hiltz had been identified as a suitable candidate to lead one of the new area teams because of his record of providing steady-handed guidance at Regensburg.63 His memoir provides an important key to understanding both his longevity

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and the limits of his ability to arrange for the care and the repatriation or resettlement of Europeans made homeless by the Second World War. Fundamental to Hiltz’s success as an UNRRA relief worker was his ability to balance empathy with pragmatism in his daily encounters with the camp’s population. His memoir presents a collage of poignant and emotionally stirring images: the crowded conditions in the camps, where blankets were hung for privacy between families; the indignities young women felt during the delousing process; the brutal beating of a teenage Polish girl for stealing bread; the withholding of rations to overcome the camp population’s reluctance to be immunized; the pentup emotions that easily allowed rage to turn into murder; and the insecurity that deterred pregnant women from going to hospitals to give birth. While Hiltz was clearly sympathetic to the plight of those displaced by the war and its political aftermath, and celebrated their remarkable achievements, his account reveals that those under his charge often behaved in ways that complicated his efforts to help them rebuild their fractured lives. He described his efforts to provide opportunities for worship, recreation, education, or work as a means of overcoming the ‘universal attitude of discouragement, lethargy and deterioration.’ However, ‘the mass of people,’ he discovered, ‘had little or no incentive to work or express latent ingenuity and inventiveness.’ For example, the displaced persons who worked for UNRRA or the military government had their wages paid by the German authorities. But what good was German currency, they asked, when there were no goods to purchase? Hiltz’s solution was to introduce a camp monetary and banking system. ‘Camp money’ was issued for work done and could be used to buy goods from the canteen like cigarettes, biscuits, canned cheese, cooking utensils, and a range of other products that could not be obtained otherwise. ‘The result was that everyone wanted to work, and with some encouragement and assistance, many new initiatives developed,’ including woodworking, barbershops, and tailoring, while ‘artists from various countries plied their arts and taught others.’ The system was so successful that the military requested and was granted permission to pay their civilian workers with camp money as well. The introduction of camp money, Hiltz observed, ‘sparked new life into this displaced community.’64 Compassionate, even-handed but firm treatment became the hallmark of his welfare work for UNRRA. Directing the Regensburg area team called for breaking down several old teams, many of which had strong allegiances to a particular camp or nationality, into one large team. Hiltz took administrative and super-

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visory responsibility for a staff that was undergoing a drastic reduction in the number of UNRRA Class I personnel and their replacement often by less experienced or qualified staff drawn from the among the displaced-persons population. More significantly, the reorganization coincided with a change in the priorities of the fieldwork assigned to UNRRA teams. The noticeable shift away from relief and rehabilitation to repatriation, eligibility screening, and employment – a shift designed to reduce the number of displaced persons in the care of the successor organization – could potentially threaten staff morale. Since Hiltz headed the area team covering the biggest area with the largest population, his task was particularly demanding.65 Based upon reports received from the field, UNRRA central headquarters at Arolsen concluded that Hiltz had successfully handled the transition. The zone field representative, Dorothy Johnson, reporting on her field-inspection trip in late January 1947, was full of praise for him: ‘This impresses me as the most progressive team and it is very capably directed by a steady progressive mature man of long UNRRA experience, who looks ahead with flexibility and vision. An admirable job has been done welding the various units into a working area team.’66 Hiltz’s area team was regarded as the ‘cradle and proving ground for this type of operation, more so than any other team in this area.’67 But that did not preclude the necessity of Hiltz having to smooth out ruffled relationships within the team from time to time. Field Representative James Flannery and his deputy noted in a subsequent, more comprehensive inspection report: ‘An unspoken impression was gained during this visit that there is not sufficient understanding between the Area Team Director and some of the stronger members of the team.’ But, nonetheless, they concluded that ‘with the exception mentioned ... this Area Team Director is carrying out a policy of operation in advance of the average Area Team and operating with much less personnel than allocated. We feel that this Area Team has no major difficulties or discrepancies in operation and is in excellent shape.’68 Unrest within teams during UNRRA’s wind-down, however, ran deeper than personality clashes or any sense of personal and professional dislocation associated with the consolidation of individual teams into larger area-based units. Many members of UNRRA’s staff were disturbed by policy directives instructing them to encourage repatriation or risk being removed, a shift in policy that coincided with the accreditation of new Polish liaison officers to replace those who had represented the Polish government-in-exile. Hiltz’s insistence in his memoir

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that ‘no force of any kind would be permitted in returning D.P.s to their homeland’ and that Polish liaison officers were not permitted to go door to door within the camp because ‘some of the people already full of fear would have been hysterical,’ and his belief that ‘it was virtually impossible for many of the displaced persons to return to their home land,’ is more suggestive of his own reservations towards UNRRA’s polices than UNRRA headquarter’s actual directives to make every effort to facilitate repatriation. While UNRRA, in view of the Council sessions, felt bound to facilitate the free circulation of liaison officers, its staff was clearly reluctant to grant them free access because unpleasant incidents usually followed. Operating a well-run camp allowed Hiltz to do what he could, unobtrusively, to shield the inhabitants from unwarranted and unwanted pressure to repatriate. John Cheetham, who had a far more flamboyant and mercurial personality than Hiltz and was given to outbursts of enthusiastic energy, had been recruited from the Canadian Army. His early success as the assistant director at Aschaffenberg led to his appointment in December 1945 to head the sprawling Lauf D.P Centre, which included four widely dispersed camps, Wladust, Congress, Stemag, and Victoria, and had the added complication of intersecting several military jurisdictions. During his tenure as the director at Lauf, the camps and facilities under his supervision burgeoned, with the addition, for example, of the Fishbach camp of 1,500 Baltic refugees, a Repatriation Centre, and a special children’s hospital. Neither Cheetham nor his UNRRA supervisors, however, were satisfied with how matters were handled in this period of constant growth and ever-increasing responsibilities. More and more after his appointment, Cheetham’s lackadaisical attitude towards administrative procedures led his superiors to question his suitability as team director.69 His field supervisor concluded that ‘this team needs close follow-up ... he may delegate too many duties to other staff members. He gives the impression of being a good worker willing to assume more responsibilities, and has good ideas. He enjoys working with Polish D.P.s, more than with the Baltics.’70 Instead of getting the salary increase he expected for assuming increased administrative responsibilities, Cheetham received repeated censures for his and his staff’s use of UNRRA vehicles for personal use and for his failure to exercise proper control over the camp’s supply operation. He consistently failed to take any corrective action when the district supply officer reported that there were serious irregularities in the Lauf teams’ supply records, which ‘up to the time had been, if anything non-exis-

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tent.’ The situation, it was charged, was ‘so serious that the 7 day food stock to be held by teams at all times had been used up to such an extent that in some items they were down to a balance of zero.’71 Cheetham’s career as an UNRRA director ultimately foundered on his handling of relations with the military authorities in respect to the displaced persons under his charge and, even more important, on his failure to champion UNRRA’s heightened repatriation efforts. From Cheetham’s perspective, his main administrative problems stemmed from the fact that his team was in the unusual situation of having to deal with multiple and often highly transient military authorities.72 While this certainly complicated his ongoing relationships with the military, the real source of friction was his disapproval of the military’s treatment of the displaced persons housed within Lauf. ‘In all honesty and being perfectly candid,’ he wrote, ‘I will confess that at times liaison between Mil. Gov. [military governor] here at Lauf has not always been the best.’ The existing discord, in his opinion, was primarily attributable to the fact that ‘Mr Humphrey’s feelings towards the D.P. problem are far from sympathetic (he admits this quite candidly).’73 More seriously, Andrew Dunn was receiving reports from the field that Cheetham was not actively supportive of UNRRA’s repatriation drive. The scheduled opening for the Hapsburg Repatriation Centre was delayed, according to Cheetham, because of the army’s ‘non–fulfilment of the promise of supplies and difficulties with labour and staff.’ Cheetham’s field supervisor, coincidentally another Canadian, Douglas Deane, while somewhat sympathetic, remained unconvinced: ‘In a measure this is true, but given the importance of repatriation, and the fact that the Director [Cheetham] knew that this centre was to be in the limelight, I feel he did not show enough initiative in mobilising the resources he does have.’ As doubts were raised about the effectiveness of his leadership, Cheetham faced the prospect that his team would be split into two or three teams. Deane reported that ‘Team 137 has the most dispersed responsibility in our area ... While the Director Mr. Cheetham is a man of great energy and enthusiasm, I believe his administrative ability is not equal to keeping so many points under proper control.’ A month later, Deane censured Cheetham for his ‘tendency to occupy the centre of the picture and to take unto himself too much of the credit which could be tactfully ascribed to team members,’ and recommended his replacement ‘by a much stronger and sympathetic administrator.’74 The question remained: sympathetic to what? His team members or UNRRA’s desire to improve its repatriation numbers?

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Another change of field inspectors did not significantly alter the assessment of either Cheetham’s troubled relationships with the members of his team or his failure to enforce UNRRA directives, especially in relation to repatriation. One of the first tasks undertaken by the new field supervisor, Ralph Pierce, was to investigate charges that Cheetham ‘attempts to maintain all liaisons with the Displaced Persons, to the disadvantage of the Principal Welfare Officer, with the result that her usefulness in the repatriation program may have been undermined.’75 After further investigation of Cheetham’s apparent lack of support for the repatriation program, Pierce issued a separate report concluding that ‘it is my opinion that he showed a definite lack of interest in the repatriation program.’76 The charge laid against Cheetham stemmed from the allegations laid by both the Polish liaison officer and new principal welfare officer (who was herself of Polish origin). They claimed that he had cancelled a Polish repatriation train after it had been scheduled to leave! Cheetham did not deny cancelling the train but offered an explanation of the circumstances that necessitated such behaviour on his part. He admitted being irritated by the Polish liaison officer’s uncooperative attitude and unwarranted interference in making arrangements for the repatriation of sixty-six Poles ‘without our knowledge or informing us.’ As a ‘safeguard for myself,’ he had posted a notice indicating that any arrangements made by the Polish liaison officer were ‘unofficial’; unfortunately, the ‘interpreter who put this notice into Polish made it read that the Polish Repatriation Officer was not official.’77 In all likelihood, given Cheetham’s empathy for and record of advocacy on behalf of the Polish displaced persons at Lauf, it is improbable that he would have enthusiastically supported the aggressive Polish repatriation drive then under way. Further, given his history of strained relations with his team members and his frequent requests for staff to be removed, it is highly probable that he dealt with any perceived challenge to his authority in a confrontational manner. While relationships within the team settled down, the reprieve was only temporary. Cheetham was soon at odds again with the military, which charged that the ‘freedom with which D.P.s circulated in Lauf area’ accounted for the rising crime rate. Although he took steps to tighten control of the camps’ pass system, he regarded the whole incident as ‘a farce – All the D.P.s and myself are heartily sick of whole pretence, and I have been meditating seriously on letting it drop.’ It was the ‘accumulation of little things,’ in Dunn’s estimation, that became ‘insupportable in the end.’ From his observation of Cheetham’s perfor-

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mance over the last year, Dunn could conclude: ‘We have often wondered whether his abounding energy and zeal are worth the penalty of having to bring him down to earth at intervals.’ In the end, the pending reorganization to even larger area-based teams provided the catalyst for Dunn’s decision to place Cheetham ‘in a lesser position under the direct supervision of Mr. [Stanislaus B.] Milus, who is a strict disciplinarian.’ It would ‘no longer be necessary for Mr. Cheetham to contact Military personnel in the performance of his duties.’78 Quite simply, Cheetham was removed for not being tough enough with the displaced persons. Indeed, the very fact that he was not fired speaks volumes, for, with the growing exodus of qualified staff and the curtailment of recruitment, area directors like Dunn were reluctant to terminate anyone unnecessarily. John Cheetham’s chequered career demonstrates how the renewed emphasis on encouraging repatriation coloured his superiors’ attitudes towards his performance and his own personal relationships with his team members. The ‘accumulation of little things’ could well have continued to be tolerated if Cheetham had appeared more zealous in his efforts to encourage the displaced persons at Lauf to return to their country of origin. Neither his personality nor his genuine concern for their well- being permitted that option. Not all Canadians who oversaw UNRRA’s displaced operations in the field shared Hiltz’s and Cheetham’s reservations about UNRRA’s Polish repatriation efforts. Thomas Keenan, a former Canadian military officer who had replaced his fellow Canadian Lightall as the director at Lübeck, embraced the challenge. His approach at first blush may appear coldly bureaucratic, lacking emotion. It should, however, be more properly viewed above all as a pragmatism born in the field, where circumstances forced UNRRA workers to accept doing what they could to improve living conditions among the displaced-persons population instead of what they ideally may have wished to do. After his return to Canada, Keenan provided detailed information on his work at Lübeck to the Senate committee then considering revisions to Canadian immigration policy. It is not a particularly attractive portrait of the psychological pressure to which displaced persons were subjected while under UNRRA’s care. Polish displaced persons were herded from camp to camp for no other purpose than encouraging repatriation. Keenan’s team led the ‘healthy competition’ between assembly centres for the best propaganda display in the Polish camps. He claimed to have invented the slogan, which was widely used throughout the zone: ‘Do you want to rebuild Germany or Poland?’ He

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withheld the better clothing for those being repatriated and made ‘quite an impression’ by distributing fur coats to the women returning to Poland. But the initial harsh impression is softened when one learns that Keenan made no attempt to hide the difficulties that awaited the refugees in Poland, and also that he ignored the directive restricting what the Poles could take back home with them: ‘For my part, I took my directive in this matter from the Book of Exodus where the Children of Israel were instructed to borrow from the Egyptians before setting out for the Promised Land. I told my Polish friends that I had no scruples about giving them whatever documentation for anything they wanted to take home.’79 While returning to Poland may not have been the ideal solution, the alternatives of languishing in an assembly centre with uncertain prospects for resettlement or being released into the German workforce without any protection were not necessarily viewed at the time as better. Keenan’s actions in the camps were motivated by a desire to do what was practical and possible. And when he returned to his homeland he championed a more liberal immigration policy. Conclusion In UNRRA’s early days in the field, a certain amount of time was needed to make the necessary adjustment in team assignments and responsibilities. The supply and transport difficulties were enormous, testing both physical stamina and team morale. UNRRA’s supply operation was limited by the availability both of particular goods provided by the contributing countries and of shipping space. Once the field operations were in full swing, most Canadian UNRRAIDS in Germany appeared to believe that their presence made a difference. Innovation and off-the-cuff solutions were both needed and praised. Many staff, especially women who were given an opportunity to exercise authority over daily operations, found this a rewarding and an exhilarating time. As field operations matured, more uniform administrative controls, especially in regard to supply operations within the camps, were put in place. The flow of information to the field and reports back to headquarters became more formalized. Some who were successful in the first phase grew impatient with the increased bureaucracy, or simply tired of having to deal with the continuous crisis mentality of the camps. On top of all of this, the creation of large area teams exacerbated the sense of isolation that many staff members felt in relation to headquarters. They complained that the ‘higher levels sit down and read

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reports and judge by reports. We who are out in the camps with only nine people to run a camp of 8,000 people don’t have time to sit down and write pages about operations in the Camp. We never built up a [positive] report on our team.’80 The Canadian experience substantiates the point that official policy and actual practice diverged without any coherent or consistent pattern. The reaction to the new field directives varied between zones and with the individuals involved, but clearly some UNRRA officials were willing to push repatriation more forcefully than others. Several factors contributed to the latitude with which some staff members interpreted and implemented field directives. For one thing, despite UNRRA’s directive to the contrary, the military authorities chose not to enforce some policies, for example, the removal of the elected camp leaders who were doing a good job in keeping camp discipline or the provision of ready access to liaison officers, especially from the eastern powers. At the same time, UNRRA staff encountered a variety of difficulties in identifying and ousting camp leaders for anti-repatriation activities. Many displaced persons had become masters of subterfuge to survive in the concentration camps; few would have been naive enough to display their hand publicly before prying eyes. In any event, proving charges of misconduct substantial enough to warrant termination for its employees was not the kind of publicity UNRRA wanted to attract. Sometimes, UNRRA instructions to the field were contradictory, especially in relation to controlling propaganda likely to influence repatriation. Keenan undoubtedly went beyond the accepted guidelines that ‘the Administration should not attempt to influence the displaced persons but that it should aid in the dissemination of views emanating from home countries – newspapers, periodicals, official bulletins and statements.’81 The issue of whether UNRRA should censor the camps’ publications proved both more complex and confusing, and it was left for the field staff to sort out. The advocates of free speech argued with the exponents of repatriation at any cost. In the end, UNRRA admitted that the language of its directives was confusing if not contradictory and issued a special directive to clarify what actions were expected of its field staff. A Council resolution stipulated that the Administration was to remove any handicap in the assembly centres to the prompt repatriation of displaced persons, but it was also to be cognizant of the doctrines enshrined in the United Nations charter, which placed freedom of speech and the press over UNRRA’s right to suppress anti-repatriation propaganda. UNRRA staff was ordered ‘to keep a balance

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between the somewhat conflicting policies’ by refraining from contributing to such publications and taking steps to inform the national liaison officers of propaganda adverse to repatriation so that they could reply.82 The practical effect was that, despite the Council’s intentions, the field staff was not permitted to censor publications adverse to either repatriation or the work of the Administration. Life in the field was always in flux and always filled with the unexpected. A war- shattered Europe emerged from the Second World War with overwhelming settlement and shelter needs for the millions driven from their homes by conflict. The work was not easy, for conditions were often desperate and the plight of the people heart-rending. UNRRA was really the first modern program bringing together a variety of professional disciplines, some of which were still in their formative stages, to coordinate disaster relief. Those working with the displaced, like Bill Rogers, Charity Grant, Ethel Ostry, Carl Hiltz, John Cheetham, Thomas Keenan, and many, many others, played an important part in that effort. So did Canadian medical personnel and childcare workers, who, as we will now see, experienced both great joy and deep sadness in ministering to the mothers and children of war.

7 Torch of Sadness: The Mothers and Children of War

Canadians assigned to the UNRRA Child Welfare Division arrived in Europe knowing that they would be involved in providing care for mothers and children who had survived unbelievable suffering and deprivation during the war. Social workers, such as Jean Henshaw, served as child-welfare officers either within assembly centres or in separate child centres established to deal with the problems of ‘unaccompanied children’ under the age of eighteen. What many workers had not expected, however, was that they would have to deal with what Henshaw described as ‘the methodical, inhuman plan of Nazi Germans to deplete the surrounding nations of their family life by direct attacks upon and disruption of the families and at the same time to enrich the German nation through this child life. This monstrous plan included the selection, discarding, kidnapping, Germanization and Nazification of the children of other nations.’1 That reality gave added urgency and passion to the workers’ activities. In an effort to reunite as many of these children as possible with their families, Canadian childcare workers, like Margaret Kilpatrick, headed child-search teams sent to locate lost and stolen children in Germany, Austria, and, for a short time, Italy. The work of another well-respected welfare expert, and also of a number of doctors, rounded out the Canadian contribution to UNRRA’s work with the mothers and children of war. Marjorie Bradford participated in the development of the UNRRA welfare studies that would guide child and maternal care in the field and later coordinated UNRRA’s childcare efforts and location services with the work of other voluntary agencies. And, as part of UNRRA’s program of assisting the liberated countries to restore their national health services to

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pre-war levels, medical specialists like Dr Robert Rolf Struthers and Dr Frank Pedley undertook extensive surveys of maternal and child health services in UNRRA’s European and Middle East field operations. Here, as elsewhere, the implementation of a mother and child welfare program proved far more complex than originally anticipated. Following UNRRA’s directives, or sometimes the lack thereof, tested professional and personal ethics. Canadian child-welfare specialists were called upon to adapt childcare protocols used back home to meet the special needs of unaccompanied children. But cases involving stolen children, besides being the most heart-wrenching, had to be handled in the absence of Canadian parallels. When it proved impossible to locate a child’s parents, then it became the responsibility of the national liaison officer from the child’s country of origin to make arrangements for the child’s future. As a neutral international organization, UNRRA could adopt no legal position other than that unaccompanied children were wards of their country of origin and should be returned to that country’s care. The reality of carrying out that directive in the field was a different matter. Few of UNRRA’s child-search officers would forget the inconsolable grief of ‘adoptive’ German parents or the wild anger of children who had no memories of being Polish as they were wrenched away to an often uncertain future. While UNRRA’s main responsibility was for the care and settlement of children, efforts were made to improve the national child and maternal social services within those countries where UNRRA worked. Many volunteered believing that their role was to help the war-torn countries modernize their maternal and childcare services. Paediatric specialists, like Struthers, struggled to reconcile their North American concepts of child welfare with those then prevalent in many of the countries receiving assistance from UNRRA. Repatriating les Travailleuses: Marjorie Bradford and Dr Frank Pedley In June 1945 UNRRA’s Welfare Division produced several reports on the needs of women and girls during their repatriation and rehabilitation. The reports provided sympathetic but practical treatment of women at special risk: women forced into prostitution by German trickery or poverty; women with illegitimate children; and women who had volunteered for work in Germany. According to McGeachy’s biographer, ‘UNRRA’s polices were enlightened, based upon professional progressive opinion and consistent with McGeachy’s own opinions.’2

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Equally, the studies bear the imprint of two other Canadians: Leonard Marsh, who directed all the preparatory studies for the Welfare Division, and Marjorie Bradford, who worked with UNRRA’s Subcommittee on the Problems of Women and Girls. Bradford, along with the leading childcare expert who had directed the U.S. State Department’s preliminary planning for the post-war relief of children leading up to UNRRA’s formation, Dr Martha Branscombe, later carried out an important field study in France that laid the groundwork for that committee’s published study.3 In April 1945, at the specific request of the French authorities responsible for the problems of repatriation, the two social workers had travelled to Paris to consult on the coordination of UNRRA’s work in the assembly centres with the arrangements that the French government was making for the reception of the returning women in that country. By the time that Bradford arrived in Paris, she wondered whether, with the ‘present speed and scant attention given in the process of repatriation,’ she and her fellow welfare workers were ‘rather late to be of any use at all and the means will not exist to apply the knowledge gained.’ But in the end she concluded that ‘many vestiges of the most serious problems may still be found in Germany after the mass of rapid repatriation has passed.’4 Her visit provided an excellent opportunity to begin to understand how complicated and emotionally flammable the repatriation question was to be in France and elsewhere in Europe. It became quickly apparent that not all returning French women, especially les travailleuses, women who voluntarily went to Germany to work, were going to be received warmly either by the French public or by the government. ‘In this country the French women workers are in a category of their own which does not correspond either with that of women who rank as political or racial deportees or with that of the men taken as prisoners of war or political deportees, conscripted for labour in Germany.’5 Bradford contrasted the reception and follow-up planned for les travailleuses with that for the political deportees, the ‘finest and bravest spirits in the country’ who were among the ‘elite of the repatriates.’ Whereas the French government wanted the latter women and their children to be given preferential treatment in the assembly camps, les travailleuses, as reported by Bradford to London, were regarded as either professional prostitutes or women who had sought the easy life, avoiding the hard conditions that prevailed in their homeland. ‘There is no glad welcome for these women in France.’ When one was discovered at the train station, ‘she was stopped. They opened up her suitcase, dis-

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covered some German pictures and hung them around her neck.’ Bradford continued her account: ‘They are a forlorn group, pushed aside or reviled in the tide of welcome that engulfs the others. Many of them had a very bad time in Germany, and show the effects in their appearance. Many were no more than adolescents when they left France, but that cannot be forgiven yet and it is extremely difficult to initiate the sound plans for their rehabilitation devised by responsible public and voluntary bodies, in the face of public feeling. One gathers the impression that the constructive work that can be done will have to be done very quietly and away from public attention.’6 Bradford recommended that war prostitutes be separated from families and religious communities so as to guard them from censure, a recommendation based upon the successful pre-war experience of France’s Ivy Home, whose ‘real purpose was not publicly known. It was represented as a convalescent home when information had to be disclosed.’7 She also cautioned that it would be best to separate les travailleuses from the political or racial deportees in the assembly centres as well, and her views were reflected in the Welfare Division’s study of the psychological problems to be confronted among the repatriates. Many of les travailleuses were returning with healthy children, a fact that offered another contrast to the horrifying experiences of French women who had been political or racial deportees. While visiting the reception centre for deportees in Paris, Bradford was told of political deportees whose babies ‘were frequently used for medical and laboratory experiments – vivisection, injections or inoculations.’ There were other, even more harrowing cases reported: for example, ones where the mother during labour ‘was tied at the knees, prevented from giving birth to the child, and left to die in agony.’8 Given these experiences, the illegitimate children of the French worker women or the children of collaborators were not likely to be well received and their future ‘relations with other children may not be happy.’9 Moreover, the children of the women workers were often considered ‘unwelcome additions’ even by their mothers. In March 1945, ‘in an attempt to reduce the stigma of illegitimacy for both the mother and child, McGeachy established ... that the child could be given citizenship in the mother’s country.’10 French authorities had adopted a policy of encouraging these women to take advantage of the provision in French law which permitted ‘formal recognition of children born out of wedlock, achieved by a declaration by either or both parents before an appropriate authority.’ While the government was anxious for unmarried mothers to ‘recognize’ their chil-

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dren before they returned to France, Bradford ‘questioned whether it would be desirable as a welfare possibility to rush this indiscriminately unless the mother and liaison officer had the assistance of a French social worker.’11 Bradford’s comment foreshadowed future conflicts that arose because North American social workers preferred a casebased approach to child welfare grounded in the cardinal principle of placing the child’s interests first, rather than uniformly applying a national or UNRRA directive derived from political or legal considerations. The Welfare Division’s final report expressed the hope that these women would be permitted to make their own decisions about their child’s future – a position that was consistent with Bradford’s and McGeachy’s philosophy. During her stay in Paris, Bradford was received ‘very kindly as a temporary member of the family and given every assistance within their power to find my way about and get my work done.’12 The head of the Welfare Division in France was a distinguished Canadian paediatrician with extensive background in public health, Dr Frank Pedley, who had directed the Montreal Council of Social Agencies and taught public health at McGill University. He paved the way for Bradford to visit the special French facilities for women and children, and he was also a source of information on emerging trends in the field that had not been fully anticipated; it was through Pedley that Bradford learned of groups of unaccompanied children who, it was now discovered, had been ‘swept into Germany during the retreat.’13 Given that many children had returned to France without formal registration, it was impossible to assess the real situation.14 The two Canadians worked closely on the preparation of reports both for the ERO and for a conference with French officials. They also visited several reception centres for repatriates near Paris, such as those at the Gare d’Orsay, where the prisoners-of-war and men in other categories were first seen upon arriving in Paris and where displaced persons were then processed by their own national liaison officers. At a meeting with French officials held on 10 April 1945, mainly to discuss the welfare of displaced persons, Bradford had been asked to give two papers: one on the special needs of women and girls, and the other a summary of the plans for assembly centres as outlined in the UNRRA welfare guide. The first paper drew upon work already done in London for Leonard Marsh and the second was developed in Paris in collaboration with Pedley. To save time and the embarrassment of speaking in her less than fluent French, Bradford had a French colleague read her papers.

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Pedley had his own insecurities, which had to do not only with language but also with a sense that he lacked sufficient social-welfare experience. Appointed at McGeachy’s suggestion, despite his own and others’ reservations about his suitability for the position, Pedley, as McGeachy’s Washington deputy, Frederick Daniels, reported to McGeachy, had ‘some doubts about his ability to handle a welfare position involving any great depth of experience or knowledge. And frankly we have too.’15 According to the deputy director general, Hugh Jackson, Pedley had failed to gain the respect of the French authorities and other senior UNRRA officials in the French mission: ‘I would say the weakest spot in the French Mission is Dr. Pedley, the Welfare Representative. The people in SHAEF who are concerned with Welfare matters take a very low view as to his abilities and his relationships there are certainly unsatisfactory. From all I could learn the French authorities had no high opinion of him and consider that he is more of a nuisance than a help. Brigadier William Fraser [head of the French mission] I fear shares the opinion of the French officials.’ Jackson did not believe that Pedley would have the clout to play ‘a substantial enough role in influencing the utilization of these supplies by the proper French Authorities. For this job we need someone who had good public relief experience and also who must speak French ... the calibre of French officialdom with whom we deal will find it difficult to believe that a person can really be competent and not speak French.’16 Jackson indicated that it might be necessary to replace Pedley in the near future. Once again, the schism between those who regarded UNRRA as primarily a supply agency within a traditional relief program and those like Pedley who championed a broader North American rehabilitation-based approach to relief work was evident. A more sympathetic view of Pedley’s difficulties within the French mission is offered by those UNRRA officials who regarded Brigadier Fraser as ‘a thoroughly bad person foisted on UNRRA to use his position as a lever for patronage that would benefit the British.’ In their view, Pedley was ‘a sincere and well meaning Canadian,’ who was the only one ‘who had the courage to protest [about] Fraser by sending it through Fraser himself, but it did no good since ERO did nothing.’17 Perhaps it was not Pedley’s welfare skills but his political ones that were sadly deficient. He, like other medical specialists recruited by UNRRA, often lacked experience in negotiating with foreign bureaucracies, thereby hindering UNRRA’s ability to encourage the modernization of welfare services within the liberated countries receiving UNRRA’s assistance.

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Bradford’s trip to Paris and Pedley’s troubled relationships within the Welfare Division were harbingers of what lay ahead when UNRRA’s field operations swung into full operation. Bradford knew from first-hand experience that the emotional scarring left from the war would cause difficulties in planning children’s futures throughout Germany and elsewhere. It was, as she said, too early to forgive. In this she was prescient. Reports of unexpected numbers of pregnant women and of unaccompanied children, and the discovery of children hidden in Germany, pointed to trends that became fully understood only once the teams entered Germany. At that point, UNRRA would have to adjust its maternal and child welfare program to fit unexpected contingencies. Child-welfare officers would encounter cultural and language barriers and officials who stood in the way of their welfare work. They, too, would have to be politically adept to survive and cope. UNRRA as Foster Parent: Jean Henshaw As the Welfare Division’s field report and background studies were being finalized, the German army capitulated on 7 May 1945. It was originally assumed that UNRRA would be dealing only with children forced from their home by war; then, gradually, the story of the children stolen from their homes came to light, further complicating the already pressing and complex legal and psychological issues involved in the treatment of unaccompanied children. Within Germany, children’s special needs were initially recognized on an ad hoc basis; for example, the children from the Auschwitz concentration camp were sent to Switzerland and Sweden in the summer of 1945 to begin their long recuperation period. As the number of unaccompanied children in Europe continued to grow, however, it was recognized that more specialized child-welfare services were required to locate, document, care for, and either repatriate or resettle Europe’s lost or stolen children. As the Canadian child-welfare worker Jean Henshaw observed: UNRRA confronted ‘a problem which fell within the scope of none of the hitherto developed UNRRA services, required individual case attention by comparison with the mass program for millions of Displaced Persons, and was quite without precedent in welfare experience.’ These children, who had been torn from their parents and forced into hiding or slave labour, owed their survival to sheer courage and cunning well beyond their years. Henshaw found them ‘so uniquely different that one had no past professional experience which in any way paralleled

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it.’18 According to her, thousands of children left UNRRA’s care to undertake ‘the most dangerous journeys over mountain passes on foot, hitch hiking, undergoing unbelievable hardships in the hopes of finding someone belonging to them.’ Often they returned to where they began, seeking UNRRA’s aid after their search proved fruitless. What started as UNRRA investigations to reunite parents with children lost through the misfortunes of war expanded into the more challenging task of locating children brought in from many nations whose non-German origins were hidden even from the German foster parents.19 In July 1945 a child-welfare officer was assigned to headquarters in the American Zone to oversee children’s programs in the camps, develop and document the tracing of unaccompanied children, and establish special centres for these children. Early the following year, the Child Search and Tracing Bureau in Germany began the enormous job of registering all unaccompanied children under eighteen in assembly centres, cities, towns, institutions, and even homes. Since UNRRA had not specifically recruited childcare experts, it was not prepared for the unexpected demand to provide additional and more specialized child services beyond those originally planned for the assembly centres.20 Even when more child-welfare workers became available, there were never enough; many who displayed administrative skills accepted promotions that took them out of the field. Since only about a dozen childcare specialists were available from 1945 through early 1946, veteran Canadian childcare experts like Jean Henshaw, Margaret Newton Kilpatrick, Anna Lutack, and Elizabeth Davidson filled an important lacuna in UNRRA’s welfare staff in Germany. Then, by the time more childcare specialists became available, new child-welfare problems had emerged. UNRRA’s recruiters could not have foreseen the new challenges presented by the unexpected influx of well-organized groups of Jewish children to the American Zone seeking to go to Palestine or the discovery of the thousands of hidden children in Germany. Jean Henshaw was one of the Canadian social workers who were given the important task of heading UNRRA’s special children’s centres and planning for either the repatriation or resettlement of Europe’s lost or stolen children. Many of these Canadians grappled with the conflicting emotions and frequent reorganizations that aggravated their already complex task of sorting out the futures of children who had already endured the unimaginable. Over the next two years, the Child Welfare Division within the American Zone of Germany would go

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through four distinct organizational phases. Based on her personal experience, Henshaw concluded that none were ‘developed with an eye as to what would best serve the child welfare program, but all represent[ed] efforts to adapt this specialized service to the organizational patterns of the D.P. operation as a whole.’21 More important, many childcare workers believed that UNRRA headquarters lacked a consistent and ethical set of policy directives to guide their work in the field. Both of these factors contributed to the sense of professional and personal isolation many Canadians felt. Henshaw’s work as the director of several UNRRA’s child centres, and later as a district child-welfare officer, took many unexpected turns and embraced every aspect of childcare work within the American Zone. A graduate of Acadia University, she had been the director of the Ottawa Children’s Aid Society before stepping into her first UNRRA assignment as the new director of Camp Foehrenwald. Established as a centre for Jewish youth and family groups from thirteen nations, Camp Foehrenwald was originally envisaged as a children’s village, utilizing the well-appointed I.G. Farben Garden City, located in a pine grove on the Isar River. Henshaw told the public story of this camp in an article written in February 1946. She described the modern conveniences of the ready-made village complete in every detail – water system, electric lights, hospitals, bathhouse, telephone, theatre, central kitchen, workshops and riding horses, a sports field, and lovely playgrounds. Contrasting with the idyllic setting, however, were the heart-rending tales of the camp’s children, who had endured unbelievable horrors and mustered remarkable courage and cunning to survive by hiding in caves or by fighting as young partisans. She recounted her first visit to Dachau ‘with a lad whose father and mother were killed, sister “taken” by German officers, thirteen year old brother hanged and little cousin shot before his eyes.’ The child survivors ‘have slaved, starved, stolen and generally outsmarted the enemy ... but the resulting unacceptable attitudes must be replaced by new ones.’ To rebuild and prepare for the future, UNRRA launched a formal ‘large scale occupational therapy’ program which included opportunities for study, worship, recreation, and cultural activity. But the children at the camp had found their own method of healing; well-organized and highly disciplined kibbutz groups provided ‘substitutes for the friends and relatives they lost. They hope to work and live together, “one for all and all for one.”’ As was true of her fellow Canadian UNRRAIDS, Henshaw’s time with UNRRA was filled with competing emotions. She explained that

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‘there is never any moment of monotony’ in administering a camp that is the size of a village with all the added logistical complications of war and the psychological vestiges of life in a concentration camp. The plight of the Jewish children would attract such public attention as to warrant the appointment of a special welfare officer to oversee their care.’22 Life in the camp, however, became even more complicated with the continuous inflow of Jewish infiltrees to the American Zone. Finding accommodation within UNRRA’s camps before the onset of winter for an extra ‘one hundred thousand people’ within the American Zone, many of whom were either concentration-camp survivors or refugees searching for their families, or both, demanded adaptability. Yet Henshaw’s readers were left with the impression that, whatever the hardships or challenges, they quickly passed when the ‘right to a security of home and new family ties to replace the old’ had been finally achieved. What made it all worthwhile for her were the letters from children she had helped, like the teenage boy who expressed ‘his joy in returning to normal life. “Here in England I am a human being again, something I could never have been if I had not come.”’ The article does not reveal the struggle that took place to send the young boy to England nor the growing dysfunction within Henshaw’s camp as UNRRA attempted to accommodate the unplanned influx of Jewish infiltrees. Since she was writing to garner public support, Henshaw chose to emphasize the positive aspects of UNRRA’s work abroad. Sorting out the lives of Jewish children was a complicated job. Henshaw’s readers never learned of the enormous controversy that had occurred over sending the first group of fifty Jewish children to England. The vehement opposition of extreme Zionist factions within the Jewish community not only shut down any future attempts of this kind but also necessitated the removal, for processing purposes, to other centres of those Jewish children who did not want to go to Jerusalem. Moreover, even as Foehrenwald’s population exploded, the idea of developing the children’s section of the camp assumed a new political reality as each cottage unit quickly became an independent self-sufficient kibbutz, whose members were determined to reach Palestine as soon as possible. While Henshaw could acknowledge the benefits of recreating the family unit, what she found unacceptable was that children who wanted to break away from the kibbutz way of life were treated as social outcasts.23 Unlike the above article, a memo that Henshaw prepared in 1947 on the history of the Child Welfare Division in the American Zone pro-

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vides a critical look behind the scenes into the running of a children’s centre within Camp Foehrenwald. There she discussed more candidly her sense of frustration as her well-laid plans were literally overrun by events. Although its location was perfect, in reality the facility functioned within a large assembly centre. The dream of separate children’s village was torpedoed when a visiting American general gave the order that Foehrenwald was to become a Jewish centre and preparations should be made to receive one thousand people immediately. As the camp’s population skyrocketed to 5,500 (of whom 1,200 to 1,500 were children), the centre became so grossly overcrowded that many of the specialized rehabilitation programs had to be disbanded, and then, with winter around the corner, the necessity of sheltering the camp’s growing population took precedence over the children’s more specialized needs. In Henshaw’s opinion, the experiment of running a children’s camp within a larger assembly centre was not a model to be repeated again.24 Henshaw was later assigned to Kloster Indersdorf, a temporary assembly centre for unaccompanied children established in an abandoned cloister, and oversaw its transfer to the International Children’s Centre in the nearby town of Prien am Chiemsee in southern Germany by Lake Chiemsee. She discovered that opening a new children’s centre in Occupied Germany ‘bore little similarity to a transaction in a free country.’ But, as she learned, ‘small babies and pre-school children provided the fulcrum on which to swing the deal.’25 A great deal of persuasion on her part was required to convince the military authorities to forgo the formal paperwork approving the requisition of the buildings and actually to step aside in favour of UNRRA. Pressed by her, they did both. The result was that the child centre’s staff moved into a splendid site composed of several resort hotels, while another military group farther along in the process occupied themselves with finishing the paperwork! Under her directorship, the centre was also reorganized according to age and nationality. Her work had brought many new challenges, and the pace remained hectic, demanding innovation on an almost daily basis. Henshaw had the responsibility of making whatever changes were necessary at Kloster Indersdorf to provide the children with realistic preparation for the future. The district child-welfare officer recognized that ‘her position at Indersdorf is a difficult one and she must work slowly as she had old staff, who are used to former procedures and must see good reasons for changes.’ Both the zone and district child-

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welfare officers ‘had felt that Indersdorf’s greatest weakness lay in the idea that “nothing is too good for the children,” a premise that has led to the youngsters becoming somewhat undisciplined and accustomed to having most of their wishes granted.’ While coddling the children may have been appropriate when they first arrived, the child-welfare officers thought that ‘now that repatriation or resettlement is the order of the day, it is an unrealistic approach.’ It appeared that they were satisfied with the progress made and fully expected ‘that another month with Mrs. Henshaw there should show further improvements.’26 Henshaw was expected to temper kindness with pragmatism. Her articles and reports indicate that her superiors correctly appraised her character as well as her approach to handling the children. Henshaw’s joy in seeing hundreds of children shake off their initial fear and ‘start to explore the Kloster, the farms, and nearby woods in a thoroughly normal fashion’ resounded throughout a second article appropriately entitled ‘UNRRA in the Role of Foster Parent.’ The article portrayed the children as sweetly devilish but well on their way to recovery. She told her readers of the times when the children’s explorations turned to sheer mischief. On one such day, a group of boys, who had found a stash of ammunition, were discovered experimenting with an old gun ‘which they had coaxed into action by using a bit of grease and piece of string.’ But for the most part the children were depicted as recuperating remarkably well from the years of hardship and Germanization, when their true identities had often been concealed. After just a day or two in the centre, Henshaw stated, ‘we often hear children who had previously rejected their country, say “See how the Germans are planting the garden. At home we plant it this way.”’ Similarly, in her account, it was the Polish children who had been in Kloster for a longer period who reassured an unhappy Yugoslav group when they arrived: ‘As the Yugoslavs wailed, “I am German not Yugoslav; I don’t want to stay here,” the Polish children’s voices came through the din, “I know I went through the same thing. You will like it here. You don’t want to be German you only think you do.” They knew; they were right.’ Yet Henshaw added that ‘it required more than the children’s reassurances to deal with this particular group of “unhappy Yugoslav children.”’27 Once again, Henshaw’s official reports indicated that meeting the complicated needs of the children under her care was a more involved process than that portrayed for public consumption back home in Canada. Both at Kloster and later as the director of the International Children’s Centre at Prien am Chiemsee, she discovered that removing

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stolen children from homes and institutions presented the most serious problems. In many cases, the German parents or guardians expressed strong objections to the children’s removal and brought pressure on the military government to intervene on their behalf. Perhaps one of the most bizarre cases occurred in March 1946 with the arrival of a group of Yugoslav children under the charge of Deacon Karl Mittermayer of the Lutheran Evangelical Church. Over the course of the two-day journey to the centre, the UNRRA staff had been sorely tempted to hand Mittermayer over to the police after he repeatedly attempted to escape with the children. Henshaw’s official report documented his bizarre behaviour at the centre the next day: ‘He went into the dining room, said a few words and went out again. All the children, who until his entrance had been happily preparing the tables and starting to serve the meal, stopped at once and nothing at all could have made them eat or do anything at all. They all started to cry and one of the girls had a most emotional outburst. We tried our best to calm the children but they only wanted to see their father, with whom they had been for about six years. When it came time to say good bye Mr. Mittermayer stood as if in trance with both arms raised and eyes turned to heaven. He made no effort to part with the children, who clung to him wailing and moaning hysterically.’ Eventually the military removed him, but it ‘required hours to get the children calmed down. Through the help of the other children in the Centre, they finally accepted their stay here and by evening had settled down more or less.’ In Henshaw’s opinion, ‘whatever nationality the children prove to be, the relationship between this fanatical man and the children was a very unhappy and extremely harmful one.’28 As soon as the deacon departed, another delegation from the office of Bishop Meiser of the Lutheran mission in Munich arrived, demanding the children’s immediate release. Henshaw advised them to take their complaints to the military authorities, but the children were staying put in the meantime. Henshaw’s experience was repeated throughout Germany. Her investigation of the Child Welfare Division records showed that many Germans ‘protested, contested and diverted the UNRRA search officers at every turn,’ and an account that she prepared for UNRRA’s official history cites another incident based upon her personal experience, when eleven Polish children were removed from a German Kinderheim, or children’s home, to the International Children’s centre pending their repatriation. The director of the Kinderheim and one of the nuns protested to the Polish liaison officer that the children were of

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German not Polish nationality. Initially, the liaison officer was influenced by their arguments and instructed that the children be returned to the Kinderheim, on the grounds that ‘our intention is to repatriate without any pressure.’ The decision, Henshaw noted, seemed to have been made on ‘social rather than nationality grounds as he did not advise UNRRA of any reversal of his decision regarding nationality.’ Since no child could be repatriated or resettled without the concurrence of the local national liaison officer from the country to which the child was being repatriated, they were at an impasse. In this case, the childwelfare representative of the Polish Red Cross interviewed the children again and determined that they should be left at the Children’s Centre. Henshaw reported that, a few weeks later, ‘the well coached frightened children,’ whom the Polish Red Cross representative had interviewed, met him ‘smiling, greeting me in the Polish language, showing full confidence in [him] on their part ... they seemed satisfied, asking [him] to let their brothers and sisters be transferred to Prien.’29 Based upon her personal experience, Henshaw claimed that there were other cases when German protests against returning ‘German’ children to Poland proved unfounded when they were quickly united with their Polish families. As the above incident demonstrated, repatriation was influenced by the attitude of the respective national governments as represented by their liaison officers in Germany. While Poland did not approve of forced repatriation, the USSR insisted upon a policy of compulsory return of all children of every age group. Russia increasingly alleged that UNRRA officials were encouraging anti-Russian propaganda and undermining their repatriation efforts. Henshaw became embroiled in this political mudslinging when the local Russian liaison officers charged that UNRRA had not remained impartial in planning for the repatriation of thirty-eight Russian children from the Children’s Centre in November 1946. The children had been processed through the proper channels and were awaiting transport when the centre was advised that the American screening officer from the 9th Military Division had arrived to question the children about their desire to return home. This was contrary to UNRRA’s directives forbidding children in a special children’s centre from being screened. And in fact it was a marked departure from Henshaw’s past experience at the centre. ‘No military officer,’ she observed, ‘had ever taken interest in the desires of French children and the practice was for all children under 12 to be repatriated.’ Although she contended that the Russian’s allegations

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were generally unfounded, she believed that this ‘incident placed UNRRA in the position of appearing to discriminate in the matter of the disposition of the United Nations children.’30 After further delays, thirty children eventually made the trip. The UNRRA portion of the transport had experienced several difficulties, mainly stemming from the poor shape of the train cars placed at its disposal. Every effort had been made by UNRRA’s staff in the short time permitted to clean and improve the living conditions before the children’s departure. But the hastily contrived kitchen cooking stoves were soon rendered useless: ‘Within a half hour of the time the train left, these had fallen down (with considerable fire hazard).’ Fortunately, another Canadian UNRRAID, Elizabeth Davidson, the child-welfare officer in the Regensburg District, responded to the SOS call, coming to the children’s rescue by meeting the train with plenty of hot food and drinks. The difficulties of the actual transport, however, were not the reason for the visit of Lieutenant-Colonel Oreshkin (the Russian liaison officer) to the International Children’s Centre two days later.31 He informed Henshaw that he was there to inquire why only thirty children, instead of the sixty to seventy who had been expected, had made the trip. She explained that the ‘repatriation of the older children is only possible after they have been renationalized and without properly qualified Russian teachers it is a most difficult thing to achieve.’32 Herein lay the crux of the matter; the U.S. military authorities would not permit Russian civilian teachers to enter the American Zone. This was not the only instance when politics decided a ‘Russian’ child’s nationality in a way that the Soviet Union viewed as prejudicial to its interests. ‘Ukrainian’ Polish children had been born in the former Polish territory which since had been ceded to the Soviet Union. The Polish government acquiesced to Russian claims over the children, but the United States had not recognized this agreement and insisted that they be referred to the Polish liaison officer. In light of no clear directive from UNRRA headquarters, the children were referred to the Polish liaison officer first.33 There were signs that the American military authorities were becoming increasingly unwilling to return children behind the Iron Curtain. Children’s nationalities would be determined only in part by law; politics would figure as prominently. Henshaw’s report of the incident involving the transport of Russian children provides a clear indication of her own attitude towards the vexing question of the repatriation of unaccompanied children. Upon learning of the American officer’s arrival to interrogate them, several

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Leonard Marsh (University of British Columbia Archives)

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China Press c. 1946 (Hugh MacKenzie Fond, The J.J. Talman Regional Collection, University of Western Ontario Archives)

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Edna Osborne, pioneer medical social worker (Courtesy of J. Stotts)

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Ethel Ostry (Canadian Jewish Congress Charities Committee National Archives)

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Elizabeth Brown (seated) in Jerusalem, 1947 (Archives of Ontario, F 1176, Joshua Brown Family Papers)

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Ethel Ostry with orphans from Prien am Chiemsee Children’s Centre, 30 October 1947 (Canadian Jewish Congress Charities Committee National Archives)

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It took several hours for the charcoal-burning FAU trucks to grind their way up the famous ’20 Bend Hill’ on the way to Hankow. (Alex Dobson Private Papers)

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Muriel Doherty and Lyle Creelman (University of British Columbia Archives)

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Friends Ambulance Unit, China Convoy. Back Row: Walter Alexander, Delf Francham, Russel Beck, Wesley Brown, Francis Starr, Wilf Howarth, Verdene Mjolsness. Middle Row: Al Dobson, Jack Dodds, Ed Abbott. Front Row: Bill Rayhill, Kathleen Green, Bimbo Stokes, Peter Tenant, Lili Sheperly, Unidentified, Henry Stokes.

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Dr Robert McClure, operating (United Church Achives)

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children fled the premises. Most, upon learning the nature of the questions being asked, did return and when interviewed expressed their wish not to be repatriated. Henshaw remembers being told afterwards that any child who had expressed a desire not to return could not be repatriated. In her view, ‘many of these children were too young to express a desire. Furthermore, the term “forced repatriation” can hardly be applied to the return of a small child.’ Henshaw supported the principle that UNRRA had adopted, which held that a child without parents was the ward of the nation of which its parents were a citizen.’34 She also upheld UNRRA’s program of using UNRRA children’s centres to renationalize older children. But, as she admitted, the success of the program depended upon securing sympathetic teachers who accepted the philosophy that a child’s birthright should be protected and therefore the right and proper place for each child was in his or her own country. Failure to adhere to the prescribed line resulted in removal. Practice in the field varied from the prescribed line when the military did not necessarily concur with official policy. The successful repatriation or resettlement of an unaccompanied child under UNRRA’s care required not only the approval of the national liaison officer of the country of the child’s citizenship but also the concurrence of the occupying military authorities for that zone. Sometimes UNRRA workers, who had been given unofficial ‘advice’ from local military authorities ‘not to allow Soviet liaison officers into displaced-persons camps and not to expose unaccompanied children to them,’ simply chose to ignore the directives because they believed it was in the best interest for the children to go home rather than to face another cultural dislocation by being resettled abroad. In other instances, when UNRRA’s directives were unclear, Henshaw acknowledged that they ‘followed the army point of view.’ She noted, as an example, that there were always conflicting opinions about the Baltic children. The Russians claimed them as their nationals, but the United States rejected their claim because it did not recognize Russian jurisdiction over the Baltic states. Hence the instruction from UNRRA headquarters – that the cases of all Baltic children (from the republics of Latvia, Lithuania, and Estonia) whose homeland had fallen under Soviet control were to be referred to the Soviet liaison officers for final approval – were ignored in the American Zone because they directly contradicted the occupying forces’ instructions. Quite apart from the constraints imposed by the military’s overriding authority on the matter, Henshaw candidly admitted that there

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was ‘a reluctance to consign Baltic children to a future, which had been almost unanimously rejected by the Baltic adults,’ who were vehemently anti-communist.35 In practice, ‘protecting a child’s birthright’ was not as clear-cut as it appeared on paper. One UNRRA welfare worker spoke for many when she remembered in later years: ‘Continual changes in the rulings we received over the months were confusing and disturbing, and we were finally convinced that no one in authority understood either the political complexities or the human conflicts that surrounded us and our charges.’36 In early April 1947 Henshaw derived special pleasure in accompanying a group of thirty-two Czechoslovakian children back to Prague. Two fellow Canadian childcare workers, Anna Lutack and Marnie Bruce, from the district child-search and repatriation team, were among the UNRRA staff assigned to care for the children during transit. Even though Henshaw’s report was written in her official capacity as the director of the International Children’s Centre, it nonetheless sheds further light on her personal viewpoint. The report noted that it was impossible to make the children comfortable, since the car had not ‘had even a superficial cleaning and was exceedingly dirty. The space was so limited that the children could not lie down ... If a child left his place even for a minute, a sleeping child fell over in his place and when he returned there was no place for him, so the night echoed to the wail “no place for me.”’ Yet the hardship of the journey did not seem to matter much to the children or to their UNRRA chaperone. What was important to the children, Henshaw stressed, was that they were going home. ‘A new spirit seemed to pervade the group despite the trying night and the children brought from their knapsacks their best dresses and clothing to go home.’ Although Henshaw wrote that the warm welcome received from the Czechs ‘rounds out the picture of the child welfare program in an unforgettable way,’ the parting was emotional for both the children and the UNRRA staff as some children ‘shrank from parents they had forgotten and clung to [the UNRRA staff] whom they knew and represented the little security they had known.’ While Henshaw enjoyed the splendid hospitality, entertainment, and accommodation provided for their benefit, it was the crowds at the train station who pressed in against them ‘imploring UNRRA to find and return their missing children’ that left an indelible impression.37 Henshaw remained critical of many aspects of the administration of UNRRA’s Child Welfare Division. She was especially censorious of the impact of the budget cuts imposed on child-welfare programs during

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the wind-down phase, which she contended compromised the quality of care provided in UNRRA’s children’s centres. But, whatever the shortcomings, she never lost sight of the wonderful work that had been done on behalf of the children: ‘Children, whatever their condition on coming to UNRRA care, left Germany in good health, usually well dressed, as adequately supplied as possible with personal equipment and possessions but above all with a readiness to take the next step into the future. Those who went home went willingly, 70% and possibly more to parents and relatives, the older ones well aware that they were facing a difficult life in helping to rebuild their countries.’ Looking back on all the frustrations the child-welfare program experienced, because of the legal and ethical uncertainties about the best way of dealing with unprecedented problems, Henshaw again maintained that all this ‘faded into the background with each transport of children out of Germany.’38 The alternative, after all, was for the children to remain in limbo in Germany. Yet perhaps this comment was a form of self-assurance as much as anything else, for, here as elsewhere in UNRRA’s work on behalf of the children, the answers were not always simple. The removal of children from German homes was, as Henshaw had noted, the most controversial aspect of the child-search program. Her account portrays a policy that was temporizing and inconsistent to the detriment of the children; the whole process often came to a virtual standstill, leaving the fate of the children unresolved. Controversy swirled as caseworkers came to dramatically different conclusions as to what constituted the best interests of the children. ‘Would a child’s best interests be served better by remaining in a reasonably comfortable home in occupied Germany, sharing as a German the responsibility for Nazi offences against humanity or as a member of a free country working to rebuild and accept its place among the nations of the world?’39 Only a clairvoyant could have made that decision, in Henshaw’s opinion. This was precisely the question which another Canadian UNRRA child-search officer was experiencing real difficulty in answering. UNRRA’S Child-Search Teams: Margaret Newton Kilpatrick A number of factors contributed to Margaret Newton Kilpatrick’s decision to leave her position as the chief-welfare officer for Canadian Women’s Army Corps in Ottawa. Kilpatrick had followed up her initial BA from Queen’s University with a year of further study in social work at the University of Toronto. While she had thrived on the physical and

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intellectual demands imposed by her wartime work, which differed from her earlier work with the Hamilton Children’s Aid Society, she was looking for new opportunities as the ending of her job drew closer. Without wishing to exaggerate its importance, she later recalled that a sense of social idealism, infused by her experience in wartime Ottawa, had also figured in her decision. Wartime Ottawa, she observed, was characterized by a striving self-confidence born of the belief that if you asked the right questions, you could solve complex social questions. Kilpatrick thought that this social idealism found its international counterpart in the belief that there were practical solutions for international welfare problems. But, fundamentally, she volunteered for UNRRA because there was a desperate need for qualified social workers to handle the enormous refugee problem and she was available.40 She left Ottawa with few illusions about the long hours, the physical hardships, or the social deprivation potentially involved in working with UNRRA abroad. She never expected, however, to question the value or ethics of UNRRA’s policy directives governing her work with children. She was initially assigned as an assistant welfare officer on the UNRRA team at Landsutt, outside Munich, where, during her brief sixweek stay, she was chiefly responsible for organizing all the children’s programs within the assembly centre. Initially overcome by a feeling of complete inadequacy, she quickly discovered that her previous socialwork experience, built around carefully documented case histories for the Hamilton Children’s Aid Society, was largely irrelevant to welfare work in the camp, which required a much more rapid intake policy to cope with the unanticipated arrival of waves of unaccompanied children of all ages. She adapted and got on with the job, earning the respect of her team and other UNRRAIDS. There were times, however, when the actions of her fellow team members, viewed from outside the craziness of camp life, seemed incomprehensible. One such incident, involving a delightful Welsh officer named Leila Jones who had the strange habit of disappearing each night, stood out vividly in her memories of those first weeks in the field. Jones’s nightly disappearances remained a mystery until Kilpatrick discovered her tending the pigs she had ‘liberated’ and had hidden behind the house where the UNRRA team was billeted. She was determined to have meat for a special feast that she was planning for the camp residents. Human beings, the Canadian learned, did ‘bizarre things’ to put a little meaning back into the camp inhabitants’ lives. It was, however, during her next

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assignment as the director of child welfare for one of the four districts in the American Zone that Kilpatrick began to have reservations about her work with UNRRA. This assignment at Wiesbaden would prove more difficult and solitary in nature. Margaret Kilpatrick now represented a minor and specialized service with which few officials working in UNRRA’s Displaced Persons Division had any familiarity. At first glance, her new job, which involved reuniting children stolen by the Germans with their natural families, should have been a totally rewarding experience. But, as she came to understand, one could not merely look at the statistical record of success or you ‘would miss the human dimension, which raised some very serious reservations.’41 Too often, she remembered, her job involved ‘steeling yourself up emotionally to remove a child, who had no memories of their natural parent, from a German family, where the child had been well cared for and loved.’ Moreover, she found it especially difficult to return these young people to an uncertain future behind the Iron Curtain. If her opinion on individual cases differed from those of the authorities, it had to be heard through the zone child-welfare officer and was considered to be only consultative; her views could be easily dismissed. Later, looking back with considerable regret on some aspects of UNRRA’s child-search program, Kilpatrick viewed the practice of removing children from German homes and institutions as a violation of the principal tenet of child welfare – that the interests of the child are paramount. The organization’s aims, she believed, were dictated by its belief that victory gave it a moral imperative to repair the wrongs done by the Germans when they stole children as part of a master plan for strengthening their youth movement. She held that this same ‘victor’s’ mentality was responsible for the decision precluding UNRRA from offering assistance to German children, many of whom were in dire need. Long after her UNRRA experience was behind her, Kilpatrick still remembered being overcome by an awful feeling of sadness and shame when, while bringing gifts for children who had been the victims of Nazi experiments, she had not been allowed to visit the German children in the other wards. Nor could she easily vanquish the memories of the German children who gathered daily beneath her window hoping for some scraps of food. As a social worker in Canada, she had been trained to help those in need, not only those who met UNRRA’s eligibility criteria. In the end, she disciplined herself to do the assigned task, choosing to help in any way she could rather than abandoning the chil-

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dren.42 Others with whom she worked and whom she had befriended shared similar attitudes.43 Kilpatrick recalled the frenzied exhilaration of planning, on very short notice, the care for a thousand babies in transit during an UNRRA repatriation. In such cases, the UNRRA team often did not have diapers or food but they coped – even if it meant using army blankets as diapers. Fortunately, there were times when events took a surprising turn, perhaps ‘even vindicating the whole experience.’ Helping unexpectedly to reunite a family with their son was one such experience. The day before her scheduled departure to accompany Yugoslavian children back to their homes, Kilpatrick received a harried phone call to inform her about the special case of a little boy, named Ruddy. The boy had been forced to stay behind when his parents were repatriated because he had contracted scarlet fever. It had taken his mother over two years to locate him and get word as to where he should be returned. Never having been informed of their son’s arrival, Ruddy’s parents were not there to greet him. Having found out where his family lived, Kilpatrick convinced an UNRRA driver to set out in the dark of the night, despite rain and treacherous mountainous roads, to return the boy home immediately instead of waiting until the next day. It was well after 11 p.m. when she finally placed Ruddy safely in the arms of his overjoyed mother. What stayed in her memory was the mother’s behaviour. Sensing the child’s fatigue from the trip and uneasiness in the strange surroundings, she asked Margaret to stay with him until he fell asleep – a request to which she gladly consented. Kilpatrick found her social work with UNRRA in Europe comparable ‘to taking an emotional ride on a wild roller coaster.’44 Child-welfare work in Germany was unlike anything she had experienced in Canada. Tracing stolen children involved detective and interviewing skills that were not required for welfare work back home. Most Canadian institutions had a strict intake policy; in UNRRA childcare centres, workers often found that facilities set up to care for infants had to cope with sudden influxes of gangly teenagers. Kilpatrick demonstrated her resourcefulness in adapting to new situations without the support of traditional facilities or trained staff. Solid professional skills were not enough, however. Friendships formed with fellow UNRRA workers became especially important for coping with the vicissitudes of child-welfare work. When stationed as the district child-welfare officer at Wiesbaden, Kilpatrick developed a close personal and professional relationship with

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the American social worker Susan Pettiss, who at the time was serving as the child-welfare officer in the American Zone and later would have a special responsibility for unaccompanied Jewish children there. Recalling bonds of friendship that were forged by their shared experiences, Pettiss wrote: ‘I was deeply grateful for Margaret’s friendship ... A Canadian with a social work background, Margaret had joined UNRRA after serving as a major in the Canadian Women’s Army Corps and after ending a love affair. She was an attractive brunette, with the traditional Canadian openness and marvelous sense of humour. Coupled with sensitivity to people’s feelings and competent social work and management skills, this made her an exceptional person.’45 It was Kilpatrick who taught Pettiss, a Southerner, to make snow angels during a 1946 New Year’s holiday at a British officers’ rest hotel in the British Zone. The incident serves as reminder of the extent to which Canadians depended upon personal friendships to establish some sense of normality in an otherwise surreal life. Eventually, Kilpatrick completed her work as district child-search officer, centred in Mannheim, where she was responsible for the final ‘mop-up duties before UNRRA ceased its work.’ Her assignment came at a time when La Guardia had determined to discontinue welfare services above the team level. In the field, however, it was recognized that certain services needed to be carried on irrespective of the official reorganization edicts. The district child-welfare officers became district child-search officers. While the intent was to provide a full range of children’s programs, Kilpatrick’s description of her work during this period as ‘mop-up duties’ suggests that supervision of the programs was limited at best.46 Kilpatrick declined the invitation to join the IRO. Instead, she decided to return to Canada to begin graduate studies in social work. Once back in Canada, she remembers that there was another long period of adjustment. Listening to several days of lectures on how to prepare a child for adoption seemed surreal when juxtaposed against the whirlwind pace she had kept in Germany. ‘The wild emotional time’ of her years with UNRRA in Germany was never entirely exorcised. Her experience as an international social worker, she believed, both shaped her attitude towards humanity and influenced how she practised her profession. She never forgot the ‘incredible human spirit demonstrated among the sickening misery’ or the extraordinary things that she and her colleagues had done to try to restore a little meaning to the lives of peoples who had suffered such degradation.47 Like Jean

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Henshaw, she believed that despite the hardships and heartaches, they had made a valuable contribution to UNRRA’s work. Maternal and Childcare in UNRRA’s Missions: Dr Robert Rolf Struthers UNRRA’s mandate in respect to women and children went beyond providing immediate shelter and resettlement needs. UNRRA was also to advise on the rehabilitation of the national health and social-welfare systems in countries receiving UNRRA’s aid to ensure the longer-term well-being of women and children. In September 1945 Dr Robert Rolf Struthers, a native Montrealer, a graduate of McGill’s class of 1918 in medicine, and already a wellrespected Canadian paediatric specialist, found himself in Berlin discussing the question of nutritional work with a renowned American nutritionist, Dr Alexander P. Meiklejohn, while UNRRA officials considered his future role within the Administration. The director of the British Zone, Dr Raphael Cilento, noted that the suggestion of finding Struthers a supervisory position did not appear feasible. Meiklejohn had already received the appointment as the nutritional consultant for Germany and the supervisory echelon for medical services was in place. Cilento did not see how Struthers ‘could supervise the clinical performance of medical men without being an odd cog in this wheel.’48 He had, however, persuaded Struthers to act as a consultant within the British Zone in respect to the supervision of paediatrics, nutrition, and the medical and social welfare of displaced persons. Struthers’s detailed examinations of the childcare facilities led him to conclude ‘that services for children are, on the whole, rather spotty,’ and he would be one of the early advocates for separate childcare facilities for unaccompanied children within the zone.49 After completing a survey of child health within the British Zone, he was appointed as the maternal and child consultant in Germany and later in Poland. But his new assignment would take him beyond Europe to the Middle East to evaluate and to make recommendations with regard to UNRRA programs for women and children. His tour of the UNRRA European mission, undertaken from July until September 1946, not only provided a detailed snapshot of maternal and child health care in UNRRA’s missions but also exposed the continued cultural and logistical difficulties that UNRRA’s staff faced in their efforts to improve public-health services in those areas. In Italy,

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he concluded that children’s services were probably ‘no more chaotic than before the war.’ But he remained disturbed that ‘there is no public conscience, nor organised opinion regarding the care of children.’ He found the Italians’ tendency to prefer placements for children in large institutional settings rather than foster care unacceptable. He admitted to surprise at the backwardness of the Italian public-health system and the variation in and relatively low educational level of paediatric training. His report would indicate that he faced considerable resistance among the Italian medical community to accepting UNRRA’s recommendations: ‘The Italians do not appear at all anxious ... to have any form of medical experts come into their country and tell them how to improve the quality of medical teaching or the care to be given to infants.’50 He found that paediatric-care standards in Yugoslavia, which were ‘probably never high, are as far behind as one would expect after seven years of isolation.’ Again, he noted that, while UNRRA’s function there had been the provision of medical supplies rather than acting as an advisory body, its removal would be regretted, ‘though our personnel are not apparently welcomed.’51 By the time he visited Poland, the trend was clear. He found Poland to be the neediest country he visited. Childcare was ‘carried on by untrained personnel and in old buildings, at a level of standards that have been discarded years ago in Western countries.’52 The rehabilitation of Polish children’s services ‘to come up to North American standards will be a huge undertaking, needing supplies, equipment, food trained personnel and new and adequate buildings.’53 Struthers doubted the ‘wisdom of trying to impose standards on any “receiving country” by sending in personnel from outside ... Italians and Yugoslavs are particularly resentful of any suggestion they are not completely self-sufficient in such matters as social services for children.’ While he could acknowledge that the local resentment towards UNRRA personnel was understandable to some degree, and in some cases this was ‘the fault of our personnel,’ he was still decidedly chagrined by the Italian attitude ‘of professional self satisfaction and even superiority, even after being cut off from other resources.’54 Given the pressing need to improve childcare facilities and reverse the dramatic rise in infant mortality, especially in Poland and Italy, Struthers believed the only viable option was to send medical personnel to the West for education and experience in childcare. Cultural barriers are two-sided. Struthers struggled to maintain both professional objectivity and an open mind in evaluating the different medical practices he encountered while travelling for UNRRA through-

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out the liberated countries. In one of his earliest reports on the health of children in the British Zone, he qualified his recommendation that ‘some efforts should be made to have closer control of the type of medical care given by D.P. physicians in the Assembly Centres’ by acknowledging that ‘I am quite aware that the background of my training on the American continent puts me in no position to criticize the work done by physicians trained in Europe.’55 Struthers was concerned that lack of adequate supervision would result in those doctors ‘either consciously or unconsciously abusing the privileges of their position with UNRRA and exercising undue authority on the D.P.s, and in some instances possibly on the surrounding civilian population, both medical and lay.’56 The nature of Struthers’s consultative work for UNRRA, however, precluded his staying in any one place for a sufficient length of time to absorb the cultural differences in a manner that may have allowed him over time to collaborate with local physicians to determine a more gradualist reform approach. By disposition, he saw only the grave needs of the children and was impatient for improvement. Conclusion UNRRA and its individual staff members, both while serving and afterwards, made extraordinary efforts to ameliorate the unbelievable suffering women and children had experienced under Nazi occupation. It was probably both the most frustrating and yet rewarding aspect of UNRRA’s welfare work. Struthers’s reports attest to the difficulties that UNRRA, as a temporary agency, encountered in attempting to modernize childcare services within many countries. And, as Struthers recognized, success ultimately depended upon the ability of individual UNRRA ‘experts’ to bridge the cultural differences in medical and social policies in respect to women and children. Struthers had an early lesson in what many other Canadian aid workers would experience: it was not the goal of ‘helping people to help themselves’ but that of deciding on whose terms this help would be given that proved elusive in the field. The efforts to bring children to Canada are indicative of the limitations of UNRRA’s attempts to reunite children with their parents – limitations imposed sometimes by the lack of documentation, sometimes by the death of the parents, and sometimes by larger political forces at work in the aftermath of war. In this respect and others, Zionism and the Cold War complicated the task of sorting out children’s futures in

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any coherent systematic fashion. Moreover, the lack of clear directives from UNRRA and the unwillingness of military authorities to enforce UNRRA’s policy direction – or the inconsistent ways in which they did so – meant that children’s lives were often placed on hold and their destinies determined by the changing political tides. Unable to find solutions within UNRRA and its successor organizations, many Canadians looked to their homeland to open its doors to the children of war. The children of Europe had survived the cruel years of war, deprived of food, existing in a state of constant terror, witnesses to the massacres of family members and friends. Children in China and other parts of the world were also in dire need. The continuation of UNRRA’s work through the United Nations International Children’s Emergency Fund (UNICEF) recognized the reality that the problem of caring for these children was international in scope. The lessons learned in UNRRA were not lost. Future international childcare workers would no longer be forced to ignore the needs of children who did not meet the eligibility criteria. In an attempt to keep UNICEF free from the charges levelled at UNRRA, an important provision of UNICEF’s charter provided that no limits were to be imposed on which children could receive assistance: ex-enemy children were therefore explicitly included. Canada took a leading role in the founding of UNICEF and in developing national standards to promote the well-being of children, modifying its legal definitions of the term ‘unaccompanied child’ to preserve the family unit and prevent exploitation but yet recognize that child refugees might not be able to put forth their claims in the same manner as adults. Unfortunately, the children’s faces change over the years, but the problems they pose would be clearly recognizable to those who served with UNRRA.

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PART THREE Carrying Florence’s Lamp: Canadian Nurses and UNRRA

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8 Launching UNRRA’s Nursing Brigade: From the Middle East to Greece

With the outbreak of the Second World War in 1939, international public-health work virtually ceased until the formation of UNRRA. At a time when there was a global shortage of the personnel, medical supplies, equipment, transport, and facilities essential to the maintenance of medical care and public health, UNRRA formed a much-needed conduit between the pre-war international health organizations, such as that of the League of Nations, and the post-war World Health Organization (WHO). UNRRA laid invaluable foundations for the WHO by assuming responsibility for administering the International Sanitary Conventions and handling epidemiological intelligence. UNRRA’s Health Division’s mandate went well beyond epidemic control, however; it included sections that dealt with nutrition, sanitation, tuberculosis, laboratories, medical supplies, and rehabilitation of the disabled. The Health Division helped to restore national health systems by determining the medical and sanitary supplies required to replace the losses experienced through destruction, looting, and restricted access during the war. It also made available medical and sanitary personnel for refugee camps and provided professional public-health training within the camps in many of the assisted countries. Indeed, while Canadians were major contributors of urgently needed medical supplies, equipment, and manufacturing expertise, it was in the field that well over one hundred Canadians – most of them nurses – made some of their most lasting contributions to UNRRA’s medical programs (see map 3, page xiii). The Health Division was staffed by about 1,400 physicians, nurses, dentists, and sanitary engineers, along with medical-supply officers recruited from more than thirty-five countries. The majority were on loan from the U.S. Public Health Service (USPHS) and the British Min-

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istry of Health. As far as the Canadian nurses serving with UNRRA are concerned, their stories are representative of the diversity of practice settings and of the nursing challenges encountered within the war-torn countries where UNRRA operated. Canadian nurses not only held key administrative positions within UNRRA’s Health Division but also joined UNRRA teams in the field engaged in preventing epidemics and providing health care to displaced persons. Within the liberated countries, they developed and delivered basic public-health nursing education, trained nurse’s aides, provided refresher courses for graduate nurses, and opened or reopened nursing schools. In contrast to the Welfare Division, the social legitimacy of the Health Division was never questioned by the higher administrative echelons of UNRRA. But neither was it properly valued. The chaotic and constantly changing administrative environments in which UNRRA’s Nursing Division operated – culminating in it being deprived of its independent status and placed under the medical division as UNRRA prepared to wind down – were symptomatic of the ineptitude that characterized UNRRA’s entire internecine administrative history. Moreover, the actions of nurses from the highest administrative posts to those serving within UNRRA field teams were shaped by larger political forces that heralded the onset of the Cold War, or that reflected the continued political instability within the liberated nations. Despite UNRRA’s avowed neutrality, the provision of nursing services was political. Recruiting, training, and, then, mobilizing an untried international nursing brigade in the wake of the liberating armies scattered in the far corners of the globe was daunting. Innovation, resourcefulness, adaptability, and sheer courage were demanded of Canadian UNRRAIDS at all levels, as they attempted to navigate uncharted professional and personal relationships while nursing overseas with UNRRA. Some rose to the personal and professional challenges; others fell by the wayside. Recruitment The Canadian Nurse warned prospective UNRRA volunteers that ‘work abroad ... is no easy thing. Many sacrifices are called for and there are dangers and discomforts which must be faced with continuous courage and determination. The privilege of foreign service also imposes obligations. Overseas nurses have the responsibility of representing Canadian nurses to the peoples of other countries ... Nurses for UNRRA are

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selected not only on the basis of mental ability, education and nursing accomplishment. Emphasis is placed on flexibility, loyalty, freedom from prejudice and on physical and emotional stamina.’1 These words of warning went unheeded, as did additional warnings that ‘the rigorous life anticipated for those going into the liberated countries requires vigorous good health’ and that ‘exposure, privation and isolation are promised to those who see this service.’2 Canadian nurses were just as eager to serve as soldiers to win the peace as they been to serve as military nurses to win the war. Motivated by a mixture of adventurism, idealism, and economic opportunity, they sought to do their part in establishing the basis for a new world order that would offer the security and prosperity denied after the Great War. Yet nothing the Canadian Nurses Association (CNA) could have said would have prepared them for the level of professional and personal adaptation that nursing overseas with UNRRA required. Canadian nurses never expected to have to negotiate minefields of administrative rivalry, nationalist politics, gender, and professional authority while working on the front lines with UNRRA. For all UNRRAIDS, including nurses, the opportunity to travel and new career possibilities added to the humanitarian enticement to venture abroad with UNRRA. Moreover, employment with UNRRA was particularly attractive for Canadian public-health nurses, who, for the most part, having been declared essential wartime personnel, had not been allowed to enlist in the military. Canadian nurses also welcomed work with UNRRA since it offered a marked improvement in their wartime salaries, either military or civilian. Since most UNRRA nurses began their careers at grade levels 5–6, the entry-level salary range would have been $2,400–$2,800 annually, which was approximately double what a nurse in Canada could make (see appendix C).3 Besides, despite the wartime increases in salary and the shortage of nurses within Canada, there was no guarantee that the post-war work world would not be marked by the same underemployment and difficult conditions that Canadian nurses had experienced in the depression of the 1930s. The Canadian nurses chosen for service overseas with UNRRA were an extremely well-qualified group. They were recruited primarily from two sources: domestically, under the auspices of the CNA; and overseas, from among the military nurses who were already on the scene. In 1944 the CNA had established the Committee on Post-war Planning for Assistance Abroad under the chairmanship of a highly respected Canadian nurse, Ethel Johns. During that year, the committee met directly

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with two UNRRA representatives: Mary Craig McGeachy and her fellow Canadian Lillian Johnston, then acting chief nurse, at Washington headquarters. During the war, Johnston had been commissioned in the U.S. Public Health Service and served as the senior public-health nurse with the Office of Foreign Relief and Rehabilitation Operations, a subdivision of the State Department directly responsible for much of the planning leading up to UNRRA’s formation. She was now in charge of setting the UNRRA standards of recruitment for nurses from Canada and the United States, their deployment in the field, and the nursing content of UNRRA’s health programs.4 Johnston set the recruiting bar deliberately high to attract nurses with leadership, planning, and organizational skills. She knew that developing effective relations with national governments – which was necessary to restore national nursing organizations to pre-war levels – and supervising all levels of nursing with UNRRA’s displaced-persons operations would be challenging and ground-breaking work. Those assigned to duty overseas were required to ‘have a sympathetic understanding of and respect for the customs, conditions and values of the people among whom they work; there must be no prejudice as to colour, race or creed. Co-operation is the keynote stressed.’5 Only Canadian nurses who had at least a bachelor’s degree from a college or university of recognized standing or its equivalent and had supervisory experience in a variety of nursing fields were encouraged to submit their names to UNRRA through their provincial nursing associations. By the standards of the day, these criteria were designed primarily to attract recruits from the upper echelon of Canadian nursing leadership. Although there is some evidence that supervisory experience was waved in specific cases, Johnston was resolute in applying recruiting standards that were as high as possible, even to the point of resisting pressure from the Canadian ambassador to the United States, Lester Pearson, to appoint Canadians he deemed inappropriate.6 That said, Canadian educational recruiting requirements could not be imposed in England, where nursing was included at the university level only after the Second World War.7 This does not mean that British nurses were not equally well qualified in public-health work, but it does highlight the fact that UNRRA’s recruiting standards varied between its Washington and London headquarters and that there was no shared common educational background to help unify the new international nursing brigade. The recruiting process was focused on public-health nurses, who

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were required to have more education than that required for registration and who, as Kathryn McPherson has noted, were accustomed to a greater degree of professional autonomy in their practice than other nurses enjoyed.8 Included among the Canadian UNRRA nurses’ ranks were Rockefeller Scholars and Florence Nightingale Scholars, and the overwhelming majority of those who had not graduated from a university-based nursing program had taken university-based certificate courses in public health-nursing, industrial nursing, psychiatric nursing, or administration after completing a three-year nursing-school course. At least one held both a social-work degree and a nursing degree. Several had graduate degrees. Many were talented linguists, speaking two or more of the following languages: Russian, Italian, Dutch, French, German, Maltese, and Yiddish. Several had been actively involved in their provincial or national nursing associations. In short, for their time, these Canadian UNRRA nurses constituted a female educational elite who were professionally and temperamentally predisposed to seize the opportunity of pioneering new frontiers in international nursing. Determining the precise class or ethnic origin of Canadian UNRRA nurses is problematic given the limitations of available documentary evidence. Nonetheless, extending McPherson’s observations offers some valuable insights. The majority of Canadian nurses from that era, McPherson contends, ‘came from families who were willing and able to make do without their daughter’s income for the years necessary for the women to complete the requisite high school and education and three-year hospital apprenticeship’ and that, as such, ‘they occupied a privileged position at the pinnacle of a hierarchy of jobs that welcomes women workers.’9 Moreover, since UNRRA nurses had educational training in excess of what was needed for registration, they presumably occupied a more privileged position among women within the Canadian workforce. Canadian UNRRA nurses shared a common North American professional identity forged by their shared apprenticeship during training and membership within a strong national nursing body. In turn, the CNA played an active role in the International Council of Nurses (ICN), which shaped Canadian nurses’ views on how to advance nursing as a recognized and regulated profession. Standardized nursing education, a strict system of accreditation embodied in law, and a national association directed by nurses rather than doctors were cardinal tenets of the ICN’s struggle for recognition of nursing as a profes-

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sion. Nursing leaders assumed that the adoption by other countries of this model would foster the creation of an international nursing community that transcended national boundaries or language barriers. As historians of the ICN have argued, contemporary international leaders sought an idealized intellectual community.10 That ideal would be severely tested as UNRRA launched the first post-war international nursing brigade. The CNA acted as both a recruiting vehicle and a negotiating forum for Canadian nurses accepting employment with UNRRA. When UNRRA established its salary schedules, the salary floor was set using the applicant’s current salary, with UNRRA paying a differential of up to an additional $200 per annum more. In practice, since Canadian nurses’ salaries were significantly lower than those of their American counterparts, UNRRA actually paid differentials as high as $600. Even though the Canadian nurses had been made aware of salary discrepancies with American nurses, and without exception they would have been content to proceed with their UNRRA appointments regardless, the CNA aggressively petitioned both Ottawa and UNRRA on behalf of its members for pay equity with American nurses.11 The leadership within the CNA believed that ‘the principle of such discrimination is wrong and that our Association should not be content to let our nurses work under such conditions.’ The CNA again raised the issue of the effect of the salary discrepancy on morale in the field when Lillian Johnston, accompanied by Margaret Arnstein, ex-chief nurse, UNRRA Cairo Office, visited Canada in the summer of 1945. As the Canadian secretary of the CNA pointed out, ‘human nature being what it is, it soon became known in camp [in the Middle East] that the different members doing the same work are receiving vastly different rates of pay.’12 Canadian UNRRA nurses may have been international civil servants but neither they nor their national association had the slightest hesitation in stressing the merits of their case with Ottawa’s assistance.13 In the long run, however, other salary and grading issues would have more significance in feeding the general discontent among nurses in the field. Nurses received significantly lower salaries than other UNRRA workers, who often had far less professional qualifications. Similarly, nurses held lower UNRRA grade levels, which established their priority for housing, transportation, and other social amenities. The debate surrounding nurses’ grade and salary levels consumed UNRRA’s Nursing Division throughout its entire history. The CNA jealously guarded the professional status of its nurses

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abroad. Accordingly, when the controversial decision was made to allow American public-health nurses to retain rank badges on their uniforms, the CNA supported the nurses’ request to Ottawa that they be associated with the British nurses and that they even be allowed to wear Canadian uniforms with rank badges: ‘They feel that the situation might conceivably arise wherein American nurses would wear the insignia of their rank, while Canadian nurses – wearing the same uniform, but without insignia denoting any rank – would be considered inferior, and their use of officers’ messes, etc. would be open to question. We definitely do not wish to have our Canadian nurses placed at this disadvantage.’14 The concern surrounding uniforms and rank badges should be read against the recent wartime experience, when Canadian nurses who held officers’ rank were accorded privileges that their non-commissioned British nursing sisters were denied. While patriotism may have played a role in individual Canadian nurses’ desire to wear a Canadian uniform or be associated with the British rather than the Americans, the CNA took steps to ensure that Canadian nurses were accorded the privileges of officer rank, which it knew meant everything in a military setting. The CNA may have cautioned its nurses on the need to be impartial civil servants, but, as a national professional organization, it clearly had aspirations for international recognition. Yet, in the end, questions of pay equity, uniforms, and grade levels relative to other UNRRA staff paled against the personal and professional challenges awaiting Canadian nurses, especially in the early days in the field. Nursing in the Middle East: Mary Henderson and Helena Reimer In 1944 UNRRA first began fulfilling its responsibility for the care and repatriation of displaced persons in camps located in Palestine, Syria, and Egypt that until then had been administered by the Middle East Relief and Refugee Administration. It was estimated that there were 37,000 refugees from Greece, Albania, Italy, and Yugoslavia housed in these MERRA refugee camps, and, by the end of that year, UNRRA was providing care for 74,000 displaced persons spread out across the Mediterranean, Africa, and the Middle East. It was in these early days that UNRRA’s Nursing Division and individual Canadian nurses gained valuable experience for their subsequent health work in other UNRRA missions.

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In all, five Canadian nurses served with UNRRA in refugee camps in Egypt beginning in the spring of 1944. As a group, their credentials indicate an impressive range of nursing experience. Mary Henderson, assigned to El Shatt camp, was a graduate of the combined University of British Columbia (UBC) and Vancouver General Hospital program. She later worked as a public-health nurse in Saanich, on Vancouver Island, prior to her appointment as a supervisor of the nursing staff of the Metropolitan Health Committee of Greater Vancouver. The outbreak of war in 1939 interrupted her plans to take courses offered by the Florence Nightingale International Foundation in London on a scholarship. Instead, she returned from London to do post-graduate study in administration and supervision in public-health nursing at the University of Toronto’s School of Nursing.15 During the war years, she combined her work with the Metropolitan Health Committee of Vancouver with teaching nursing at UBC.16 Henderson’s friend and fellow classmate at the University of Toronto, Heather Kilpatrick, had also graduated from UBC, where, in 1931, she had been awarded the provincial government’s award in publichealth nursing. She then worked as a supervisor in the Cowichan Health Centre in Duncan, British Columbia. As a Rockefeller Scholar, she obtained her master’s degree in public-health nursing from the University of Toronto in 1939. The next year, she was appointed the first director of the provincial health service in British Columbia, where she was responsible for instigating many changes in the expanded publichealth system.17 Heather Kilpatrick and Muriel Favier were both assigned to the most distant camp from headquarters, the Nuseirat camp in Palestine, which cared for Greek refugees. Born in Quebec, Favier had graduated from the Toronto Western hospital and later attended the University of Toronto to obtain her public-health credentials (1938–9). She had a range of public-health nursing experience, including caring for tuberculosis patients in Montreal, and most recently had been employed by the Child Welfare Society before accepting one of the most difficult nursing assignments in MERRA’s camps. Elsewhere in Egypt, Helena Reimer, who had been one of the first Canadian nurses chosen by the CNA to serve with UNRRA, was assigned as a nurse in and later the matron of Tolumbat, a camp for Yugoslav mothers and children on the Bay of Aboukir, eighteen miles from Alexandria on the seashore. She was an eminently well-qualified nurse as well as a nursing leader at home and abroad. A graduate of the

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Winnipeg General Hospital, with a BN from McGill University and an MA in administration from the University of Chicago, she had had valuable administrative experience as the head nurse and medical supervisor of the Winnipeg General Hospital Nursing School. The fifth Canadian, Mary Petronilla Commins, was born in Canada but had obtained her BSc in nursing at St Louis University (1935–8). She later worked as a regional supervisor with the American Red Cross before her appointment as a staff nurse in the MERRA camps. Henderson’s later claim that the months she was stationed at El Shatt were ‘one of my most interesting experiences’ only hints at how demanding she and the other Canadian UNRRA nurses found their assignment despite their impressive public-health credentials and extensive practical experience.18 A combination of motives led them to volunteer: Henderson was seeking greater professional opportunities, while, for Kilpatrick, UNRRA offered a personal journey of healing after the death of a fiancé serving overseas with the Canadian military (she had kept her engagement a secret even from her own family). Whatever their personal expectations or their previous nursing experiences, however, neither fit the situation these Canadian nurses confronted within the former MERRA refugee camps in Egypt, which operated for many months in virtual isolation, receiving little direction from the Balkan mission or adequate medical or other clothing supplies for women and children throughout the winter of 1944–5. The result was that the refugees suffered and the nurses struggled to compensate for the bureaucratic ineptitude and lack of communications that reached all the way back to headquarters in Washington and London.19 When Henderson arrived at El Shatt, located in the Sinai Desert just across the Suez Canal from the town of Suez, in December 1944, there were approximately twenty-six thousand Yugoslav refugees. Mostly women and children, they had been evacuated to Italy and then on to El Shatt as military operations made it impossible for them to remain any longer in Italy. The facility was a self-contained world set in the middle of the desert, where the refugees dwelt in large tents spread out across five sprawling camps covering some one hundred square miles. Henderson was careful not to give her readers the impression that the Yugoslavs had managed to create a little paradise in the desert with their resourcefulness. Rather, her awareness of what these people had been through and their lack of any worldly possessions whatsoever made what they did accomplish all the more impressive. She admired the independent spirit and industriousness that allowed them to make

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beautiful useful objects out of scrap metal and to create a sense of community in living quarters that offered few amenities and even less privacy. The camp residents had their own theatre, put on plays, often written by themselves, and staged concerts and dance recitals. Henderson’s own sparse quarters were in the ‘Women’s Compound,’ which consisted of a tent protected by a seven-foot matting fence where she ‘slept on army cots and used oil lanterns, an outdoor shower house and latrines.’ Yet, despite the ‘primitive’ living conditions, Henderson ‘enjoyed our experience very much.’ And, even in the midst of the gruelling workload and the strains endemic to living in close quarters with women of so many nationalities, Henderson still found time for an active social life: ‘The social life for the women members of staff could be very arduous as there were many Army messes in the area and the invitations to dances and entertainment were numerous.’20 In addition to these social outings, her quiet life in the desert was broken by weekend trips to Cairo where she could enjoy the creature comforts of the city’s hotels and nightlife. Still, the evidence suggests that there were few such moments for those nursing in the wind-swept desert camps. As was true of many others, all of Henderson’s extensive publichealth training had to be put on hold. Her first assignment was as a supervisor in the camp’s four-hundred-bed hospital, where ‘nursing care, as we know it in our modern hospitals, was not given’ but ‘the best possible care with an inadequate number of trained personnel and inadequate equipment and drugs was attempted.’21 Henderson challenged her fellow Canadian nurses back home to imagine the task facing a single nurse, with only two thermometers, taking the temperatures of fifty patients in wards that were physically separated from each other. Muriel Favier and Heather Kilpatrick could have recounted similar experiences while nursing at the Greek refugee camp at Nuseirat in an old army hospital better designed to avoid the dangers of bombings than to provide good care to patients spread among its far-flung buildings.22 Nuseirat, in fact, was considered the most difficult nursing situation in the Middle East. An extremely heavy surgical patient load and a critical shortage of supplies coupled with poor messing arrangements contributed to chronic illness and low morale among Nuseirat’s nursing staff.23 Notwithstanding these difficult conditions, however, the first steps were taken to restore the nursing services of the liberated countries. Years later, Henderson would fondly recall a program which was designed to provide rudimentary nurses’ aide training to young girls

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within El Shatt who did the required tent visits after hospital stays and worked within the baby-bathing and milk-distribution centres under the supervision of the public-health nurses. It was hoped that these girls would continue their training in the years to come and Henderson herself had no doubt that they ‘would be useful workers upon their return to their own countries.’ The critical shortage of trained nurses had made it necessary to offer basic training to Yugoslav girls, many of whom had been freedom fighters with little education; their courage and dignity in performing their duties earned the respect of the graduate nurses, who gradually expanded the training program to include the giving of medication and lessons in public health. Henderson and other UNRRA head nurses devised a manual written with these specific purposes in mind.24 She acknowledged that training the young Yugoslav girls as nurses’ aides, or bolnicarke, proved challenging, requiring a large spattering of several languages accompanied by simultaneous translation and punctuated with a good deal of hand gesturing. But in the end she believed that, despite the language difficulties, UNRRA nurses were able to teach the girls what they needed to know.25 The chief nurse for the Balkan mission from 1943 to 1945, Margaret Arnstein, believed that the young Yugoslav nurses’ aides at El Shatt did an excellent job and, moreover, provided an indispensable service given the critical shortage of nurses available to the camps. But, even when the training was complete, language barriers meant that no written instructions could be left on the ward, the result being, of course, an increased supervisory workload for UNRRA nurses. Henderson, like other UNRRA staff members, regarded the organization’s responsibilities as extending beyond the provision of nursing education in an effort to deal with immediate staffing requirements and to improve the nurses’ opportunities for employment upon their return home. Every effort was made to ‘make refugee life as normal as possible,’ and, with this in mind, the UNRRA nurses obtained the special permission required to escort the young bolnicarke to dances at the British messes, where language barriers did not prevent the young women from quickly grasping and enjoying the invitation to ‘jitterbug.’26 It was not until the late fall of 1944 that staffing levels permitted Henderson to begin her public-health nursing functions within the camp by organizing outpatient clinics, pre-natal clinics, and baby-bathing and milk-distribution centres. She believed that her efforts had improved the health of the camp residents because there were fewer

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admissions, especially of babies and children, to the hospital over time. Other UNRRA workers, like John Corsellis, who was a member of the Friends Ambulance Unit at El Shatt, agreed with her assessment: ‘Considering the condition in which the refugees arrived and considering that there was an undue proportion of the very old and the very young, the health record was excellent and the mortality rate low. Diets, milk rations for the children, child clinics, periodic inspection, sanitary precautions and the interest of the medical staff in the people were responsible for this record.’27 The other Canadian nursing assignments within the former MERRA camps would certainly prove no less daunting. Helena Reimer brought to her new task a wide experience in the tactful management of nursing staff, a delicious sense of humour, and an intense compassion for the victims of war. All were required to survive the emotional roller coaster, physical toil, and cultural isolation of nursing far from home during her first year at Tolumbat in Egypt. She found the Tolumbat children especially sad: ‘The older ones sat around quiet and apathetic, their pale strained faces telling stories of deprivations and fearful experiences.’ Most of the toddlers suffered from malnutrition, but it was the new babies who tore at her heartstrings: ‘Like old wizened men and women with claw like hands, they had old grey faces, they made their appeal for help to strengthen and restore the very slim grip they had on life.’28 Reimer quickly introduced well-baby clinics, better pre-natal care, and special feeding programs. By the end of November 1944, considerable progress had also been made in controlling tuberculosis and containing the skin and eye infections that had reached near-epidemic levels within the camp. But winter brought new challenges. As the rainy winter season set in, the low-lying hospital tents flooded, forcing the patients to crowd into the dilapidated main hospital building. One December morning, amidst a torrential downpour, Reimer arrived at the main hospital to discover ‘every possible container was set up to catch the water, but still it ran in little streams and rivulets along the concrete floor.’29 The staff had resorted to pushing the beds to areas where the roof leaked least and covering the patients with groundsheets for protection against the elements. It was so cold that the children had been put to bed fully dressed in overcoats! Respiratory ailments, like colds and pneumonia, spread quickly through the camp’s aging population. Making their rounds, the night-shift nurses shivered as the winds howled and the temperature dropped to around the freezing point.

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Coping with physical hardships and inadequate facilities was not, however, Reimer’s greatest nursing challenge during the winter months. There were also profound cultural differences that affected her efforts to implement what she considered to be appropriate nursing practices for children and mothers. To gain her patients’ trust, Reimer had introduced new procedures slowly over time, and maintaining these procedures in the winter demanded both ingenuity and patience. Given the lack of adequate heating facilities, for example, Yugoslav mothers were horrified at the prospect of winter baths for their children. Alleviating the mothers’ concerns was part of Reimer’s job. Similarly, nursing within a Yugoslavian refugee hospital was a communitybased cultural experience, with families finding their way into the tent hospital at all hours of the day.30 Reimer soon installed a wood-burning stove and scrounged an ablution table that she surrounded with a makeshift screen to provide a cozy bathing centre. ‘Our Yugoslav aides, the bolnicarke, would not assist us with the bathing procedure at first. But when they realized that the children were warm and comfortable and came out looking clean and fresh, they finally accepted this procedure and took it over as their duty.’ Soon the parents followed suit. On another front, although it took ‘unlimited patience’ to make the individual menus and teach the mothers the specialized feeding techniques required to restore gradually the health of those children suffering from malnutrition, it gave Reimer ‘great satisfaction to see thin little faces fill and, eyes become bright and limbs straighten out ... and babies began to walk at 16–17 months of age. Why relief work was really fun, we thought.’31 Reimer displayed great empathy for those under her care and her fellow workers. She shared the Yugoslav women’s happiness as they prepared to return home in May and comforted them in their sorrow when a lack of shipping caused the planned repatriation to be unexpectedly halted in mid-July. Considerable inconvenience occurred for the medical staff as a result of the delay since all the surplus supplies had been returned to the warehouse and none ordered to replace them. Existing day by day, with the associated uncertainties of what the future held, undermined the morale of the camp’s inhabitants and the staff, who lingered longer than anticipated to care for their patients. This was just one of many times when UNRRA had to modify its nursing program to deal with unforeseen events beyond the organization’s immediate control. While the general nursing level remained satisfactory, Reimer contin-

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ued to be concerned about the persistent uneasiness among her nurses. Fortunately, the nursing staff was supplemented by the bolnicarke trained at El Shatt. She took pride in the nursing accomplishments of the young bolnicarke, never comparing their nursing skills to those of immaculate white-clad nurses who cared for patients in quiet hospital wards back home. ‘These patients too,’ she maintained, ‘are well cared for and these singing girls have made them comfortable. They have never been in a modern hospital; many of them have only 4 years elementary school. They really learned much and most of them appreciate being taught.’ Reimer had learned the crucial lesson of being a successful international nurse. As she so aptly and humbly expressed her creed: ‘It meant adapting yourself to your environment, improving conditions when possible, accepting those that could not be improved, then doing what could be done cheerfully.’32 As she had discovered, the experience required to adapt traditional nursing techniques to new cultural environments was learned only on the job. Nursing and living in the camps was an adventure that was at times exciting, at times frustrating, and one that would not soon be forgotten. The Canadian nurses appear to have handled nursing roles outside the public-health area for which they were recruited and dealt with shortages of supplies, drugs, and language barriers, even taking care of patients in a tent during raging sandstorms. The more demanding adjustment involved acceptance of the hard truth that, even if they worked around the clock, the standard of care would not be that of Canadian hospitals. Those who failed simply burned out. For the others, the experience gained while nursing in the camps provided them with the practical knowledge that could not be easily simulated at UNRRA’s training centre. Necessity driven by a critical shortage of nurses and supplies forced adaptation and a more inclusive attitude as to who could provide nursing services, and perhaps the lack of common training in the end had the advantage of facilitating that accommodation; ‘the fact that the medical and nursing staffs came from many different countries made it impossible to settle into familiar routine one had known at home.’33 Reaching to the core values of nursing, centred on ‘providing the best possible care under the circumstances,’ permitted Henderson and Reimer to inject a modicum of sanity into their chaotic work world, where the overwhelming demand for nursing services far outstripped the medical competencies or infrastructure available in their primitive practice settings. While Muriel Favier had enjoyed her time in Egypt, she was worn out

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by one of the Balkan mission’s most difficult nursing assignments and decided to return home.34 Reimer, Henderson, and Kilpatrick, however, stayed on with UNRRA, though in other settings, and in doing so they drew upon their experiences in the Middle East. Following the evacuation of the children from Tolumbat, Reimer was transferred to the China mission to organize the nursing services and hospitals in Formosa. After leaving El Shatt, Henderson would join her friend Heather Kilpatrick in UNRRA’s Greece mission. None knew that the most arduous part of their journey was yet to come. Nursing in Greece: Mary Henderson and Heather Kilpatrick No country suffered more privation under the Nazi occupation than Greece, but the short-lived jubilation of victory gave way to civil war in December 1944. Although Britain’s military and diplomatic intervention ended the civil war, it failed to produce a politically stable regime. In the two years that followed the liberation of Greece, there were nine different governments, and, as a result, UNRRA medical workers who entered Greece at the end of 1944 attempted to deliver urgently needed medical care in a political climate poisoned by bitterness and victimization. The breakdown in the country's economy and the consequent inflation further aggravated UNRRA’s Health Division’s task. Furthermore, Greece was a country with certain specific nursing difficulties: there were only four hundred trained nurses, and, although some were highly qualified in teaching and administration, their small number made the provision of even the minimum nursing care difficult.35 From an administrative point of view, UNRRA’s nursing services in Greece were divided into six districts, which in turn were broken down into eleven regions. Each region had a nursing consultant, who acted as the head nurse and supervised a staff of two to three public-health advisers, and a hospital nursing adviser. In addition, the Athens headquarters staff had several specialist nurses: a psychiatric-nursing consultant, a nursing-education consultant, a midwife consultant, and an orthopaedic-nursing consultant who travelled throughout the country. ‘The UNRRA nurses worked mainly in an advisory and educational capacity with the Greek personnel in the existing health organizations and hospitals.’36 For those who nursed in rural Greece, life was considerably more rugged. One Canadian nurse, who lived ‘the hard way, far removed from the barest necessities of life,’ was Henderson’s friend Heather Kil-

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patrick.37 When Henderson arrived in Greece, she was appointed the second nursing consultant for Region A, Attica and Boetia, where she shared all planning and supervisory responsibilities for the nursing services with Kilpatrick.38 In describing her work in Greece to Canadian nurses back home, Henderson probably drew upon both their experiences. Those reading her 1947 account in the Canadian Nurse were told that flexibility and a hardy constitution were required to deal with the primitive sanitary conditions and many other ‘strange experiences’ and ‘inconveniences’ encountered in rural districts. Kilpatrick recounted her time in much the same vein: ‘In Athens, there is a wild scramble for a bath once a week. Here we are saved the trouble – we just don’t have one at all.’ Billeted at Lamia, Kilpatrick and the other two American nurses on her team ‘lived on Army rations, bread, jam and tea’; meals of ‘bully beef and tinned salmon come up regularly in various forms and degrees of temperatures.’ At night, the temperatures were ‘bitterly cold in the large bare bedrooms’ and sleep was possible only ‘if one can forget the chorus of countless barking dogs.’39 Transportation was a nightmare. There were times when the narrow winding roads, which were always in very bad repair, suddenly became impassable owing to floods or snow or simply because the bridges blown up during the civil war had yet to be repaired. Travel by donkey or on foot was the only way for UNRRA nurses like Kilpatrick to reach the remote mountain villages.40 In part, Kilpatrick answered the call to service with UNRRA because she had found her position as the director of public health for the province of British Columbia too confining.41 By temperament, she was ideally suited for her work in the rural areas of Greece, where UNRRA nurses were expected to carry a heavy supervisory load in addition to their clinical public-health responsibilities under extremely daunting conditions. Her fiercely independent spirit was matched only by her uncanny ability to organize nursing services with great efficiency and tact. She thrived in practice settings where her ability to assess quickly and meet the rural communities’ public-health nursing requirements was no longer stifled. She gave short courses for nurses’ aides, carried on a program of village visiting to encourage the development of village health committees, and supervised the use and distribution of UNRRA medical supplies and drugs.42 Kilpatrick and her two fellow UNRRA nurses ‘were expected to do anything and everything, including the performing of miracles.’ Throughout their time in the country, they illustrated that they ‘were made of the right kind of stuff.’ For example, during the harsh snowstorms of February 1946 that followed

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on the heels of the civil war, they had ‘done a fine job’ of treating the hostages returning from the mountains.’43 The diary of their fellow Canadian welfare worker in Athens, Mabel Geldard-Brown, substantiates the reputation that the nursing and other medical staff earned during the civil war, whether it was for their attempts to persuade rival military factions to stop using the hospitals as centres for fighting or for their courage as they delivered food and supplies to remote hospitals at great personal risk. It was often UNRRA officials and nurses such as Kilpatrick who picked up and cared for the hostages taken during the war as they straggled back to Athens.44 After active hostilities ceased on 11 January 1945, Kilpatrick carried on her work in Lamia and environs, an area replete with burnt-out villages from which ‘people were being driven, sick and maimed like sheep in search of food and shelter.’ Her territory included 268 villages where disease ran rampant: ‘68 percent of the population is suffering from scabies and 70 percent are suffering from chronic malaria and various forms of malnutrition.’ Daily, she tenderly bathed and treated sixty to seventy adults and children for scabies with yellow sulphur ointment, which ‘the villagers had come to look upon as magic.’45 These compassionate ministrations, among many others, earned her the villagers’ abiding love and respect. The personal physical discomforts were inconvenient but not insurmountable obstacles. More serious was the extent of the need for medical care – and the inadequate resources to provide it. Not surprisingly, under such extraordinary conditions during and after the civil war, ‘a lot of the work carried out by the Public Health nurses in the rural areas was often more on the medical level than the nursing level.’46 Kilpatrick thrived on the professional autonomy that she found in working for UNRRA but the gruelling pace exacted a high price. It would take her several months after her return to Canada to recover her health before she could resume her nursing career once more. Henderson, in contrast, was headquartered in Athens and spent most of her time dealing with nursing in the urban or hospital setting.47 During the civil war, the civilian hospitals in Athens, which had been occupied by one group or other of fighting forces, had been severely damaged. The stench was overwhelming in some of the hospitals and the one meal a day that patients received was served in empty tin cans cleaned for the purpose. The lack of food and supplies and the complete breakdown of public control made the patients’ rehabilitation a slow, painful process.

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Henderson’s work as an UNRRA nursing consultant focused on raising national nursing standards and developing the educational infrastructure necessary to sustain those standards once UNRRA pulled out of Greece. Her efforts in this area were strengthened when two other Canadian nurses, Jean Watt and Mary Harwood, were reassigned from the British Zone of Germany as hospital consultants during 1946. There were times, however, when they were all frustrated by the lack of progress in rehabilitating Greece’s nursing service. The rapid succession of governments, six during their eighteen months in the country, and, more fundamentally, a profound divergence of opinion on the role of the nursing profession lay at the root of their exasperation. Nevertheless, despite the roadblocks encountered, Canadian UNRRA nurses stood their ground in demanding better working conditions and the right to direct nursing within hospitals. 48 An article that Henderson wrote in 1947, after her return to Canada, for the Canadian Nurse provides valuable insights into the formidable obstacles confronting UNRRA’s Nursing Division in Greece. While she found the standard of Greek graduate nurses generally high, there were too few schools and much effort was required ‘to improve the conditions of work, salaries and general welfare of nurses in Greece.’49 The chief nurse, Olive Baggallay, whom Henderson respected as ‘a very able English Nurse’ and who had worked tirelessly to develop a nursing law to raise the status of Greek nurses in the medical profession through the establishment of uniform standards of educational requirements and conditions of service, was very outspoken in her criticism of the Greek government.50 Baggallay admonished the director general of the Greek Ministry of Hygiene that UNRRA’s recent efforts to attract and keep well-educated young women in the nursing profession would be a waste of time unless their working conditions and status were drastically improved. ‘It has been shocking to the UNRRA nurses,’ Baggallay wrote, ‘to find almost universal ignorance among the Greek doctors and administrators of the functions and capabilities of their own graduate nurses.’ Few Greek doctors acknowledged that ‘the nursing staff of the hospital should be controlled and administered by a nursing Directress.’ More seriously, ‘doctors do not appear to recognize that the nurse is a colleague and that only through intelligent co-operation of a nurse and doctor can a patient have good care.’ She maintained that the ‘truly appalling living conditions under which the average nurse works in Greece is less shocking to us than the obstructions that are put in her way in her doing her proper work.’51 Baggallay’s assessment and the record of her successors suggest that

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Henderson’s public pronouncements understated the administrative obstacles that Canadian UNRRA nurses encountered.52 But their immediate priorities were not always the same. There were several instances when Henderson sought the chief nurse’s assistance to overcome the red tape that was stifling progress. She complained that, even when she found qualified students and trained and graduated them, their subsequent appointment and retention was not assured. Henderson’s reports, for example, warned that the reopening of the school for midwives was jeopardized by the non-payment of salaries to some members of its nursing staff because of a recent law prohibiting new appointments to state hospitals.53 Her complaints were not an isolated incident; there were frequent instances reported of nurses working for over six months without ‘salary or appointment’ in provincial hospitals.54 Given that the overwhelming majority of nurses in Greece were employed by the government, Baggallay’s work to establish a nursing law and nursing bureau charged with the registration and distribution of nurses was essential for long-term improvement in nursing standards and salaries. From Henderson’s perspective, though, the ‘truly appalling living conditions’ assumed a far greater priority. From her daily contact with the Greek nurses, she knew that, without a living wage, some had been forced to live on the streets or to seek refuge at night on the wards. Not all of the Canadians’ initiatives to improve Greece’s nursing education or the professional status of its nurses were successful. Some fell prey to the uncertainties of Greek politics, beyond their individual or UNRRA’s control. As Henderson’s 1947 article noted, the National Nursing Law had been passed twice only to fail because of the subsequent fall of that government.55 Still, the long-term contribution of UNRRA’s Nursing Division in Greece is perhaps well captured by the words of Jeanette Hiller, who replaced Olive Baggallay as chief nurse. Hiller argued that the Greek nurses’ own performance during the occupation and civil war, augmented by the presence in Greece of eightyfive colleagues from other countries, ‘has gone far to win them recognition.’56 Perhaps, however, the most fitting overall evaluation was that provided by the ERO’s chief nurse, Florence Udell. After surveying nursing activities in Europe and the Middle East, she felt compelled to write: ‘It is impossible to find words to express adequately the pleasure and admiration that Major Johnston and I feel after seeing the work being carried on by the nursing section of the Greece Mission under the magnificent leadership of Miss Baggallay.’57 Canadian UNRRA nurses were never totally successful in helping

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Greece’s nurses gain the level of professional recognition and compensation that they sought. But their presence came at a crucial time. It ‘gave the Greek nurses courage to struggle on. They had bravely held to their work through years of German occupation, overworked and underfed. They had built up their hopes for after the liberation only to be faced with civil war and all the attendant internal conflicts. They were at the end of their tether. It was psychologically the right moment to help them and they were helped.’58 Canadian UNRRA nurses’ limited achievements in Greece should not detract from the tenacity of their advocacy nor the importance they accorded it. Both speak strongly to the fact that, in Greece and elsewhere, Canadian nurses in leadership positions had a clear sense of both the legitimacy and the importance of the nurse’s role as an equal partner in the provision of medical care. As working women, they sought to advance their profession as a means to secure greater economic security as well as to gain recognition of the social contribution that nurses as trained professionals made. The influence of the Canadian UNRRA nurses in Greece was all the more extraordinary given their small number. Individually, Heather Kilpatrick’s and Mary Henderson’s outstanding reputations carried far beyond Greece’s borders. As far away as Jerusalem, the head of the UNRRA Jerusalem Office, Elizabeth Brown, discussed their work with Brigadier Rowe: ‘He said he’d known UNRRA in Greece and asked did I know two Canadian nurses – hum – Mary Henderson and her friend and of course I answered Heather Kilpatrick. I knew them only slightly but enough was known of their good work to enhance Canada’s image in the Middle East.’59 Furthermore, Canadian nurses’ contributions to the re-establishment of the Greek nursing profession extended beyond the actual borders of Greece. Ten Greek nurses travelled to London to take the course in nursing practice taught by ‘an outstanding Canadian nurse,’ Norena Mackenzie. She in turn sought the assistance of her fellow Canadian nurses back home to provide her students with copies of the most recent Canadian curriculum guides for schools of nursing in Canada.60 Later, other nurses from the Balkans received training in public-health nursing at the University of Toronto.61 The impressive work of UNRRA’s Nursing Division in Greece under difficult conditions was recognized at the time. The two chief nurses, Lillian Johnston and Florence Udell, spent from 21 October 1945 until 27 December 1945 visiting personally with as many of their nurses as possible in the Middle East, Greece, and Italy to buoy up sagging morale

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within the Nursing Division. By this time, the public resignation of several disgruntled American nurses had made recruiting for the China mission more difficult in the United States,62 and the chief of the Health Division considered that it was essential for Johnston and Udell to make their trip to prevent further loss of nursing staff. During their visit, the two chief nurses petitioned for improved living conditions and social amenities, reviewed current staffing requirements, and discussed future assignments, especially in relationship to Europe and the opening of the China mission.63 In Greece, Johnston made special note of the excellent morale among the nursing staff. There, unlike other stops on their journey where nurses faced arduous conditions, she and Udell did not have to address charges of the underutilization of the nursing staff or prop up sagging spirits to stave off more resignations. The surviving UNRRA records suggest that Henderson’s, Reimer’s, and Kilpatrick’s performance was representative of the valuable contributions made by the overwhelming majority of Canadian nurses who served in Egypt, Africa, Greece, and Italy. Many Canadian UNRRA nurses, for example, who worked and lived in conditions of extreme deprivation and social isolation in Italy, were repeatedly recognized for their innovative efforts to overcome critical shortages of medical supplies and for their initiatives to launch nursing-education programs and establish efficient administrative hospital routines in extremely difficult practice settings. Some were signalled out for their enthusiasm and rugged individualism, which made them difficult but productive colleagues. Despite being shuffled around between postings and often being given nursing assignments for which they had not signed up, most of the Canadian nurses would move from Italy to other UNRRA assignments in Europe. Only a few, exhausted by their efforts, returned home.64 Many difficulties that the Nursing Division experienced in dealing with the Greek bureaucracy were symptomatic of the widespread problems that plagued UNRRA’s health programs everywhere it worked in that country. Dr Robert Rolf Struthers visited Greece as part of his wider survey of maternal and child care for UNRRA’s ERO in July 1946. His report, condemning the Greek government’s conduct in respect to child-health issues, cried out for a ‘crusade in child welfare education and in the dissemination of known facts of infant nutrition.’ His observations of childcare centres led him to conclude that ‘infant life seems to hold a low value, both in Salonika and Athens, and one wonders how much can be accomplished with a maternity and child welfare

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programme in Greece until the public is educated up to the value of babies.’ Moreover, Struthers despaired about the possibility of establishing a good public welfare program for mothers and children until a more stable Greek government with adequate administrative controls was established, which would allow medical salaries to be brought into line with the cost of living.65 Struthers was also deeply disturbed by the antagonism of the local general practitioners, many of whom he viewed as poorly trained trained. ‘They apparently resent UNRRA’s health activities and go counter to its suggestions regarding the use of supplies.’66 In fact, government indifference or indecision was not confined to maternal health care or child-feeding programs. The Greek government repeatedly ignored UNRRA’s warnings or recommendations, to the detriment of the country’s public health: it dismissed specially trained specialists in the malaria program and failed to follow UNRRA’s recommendations for the control of tuberculosis. Struthers’s report illuminates how cultural barriers coupled with the bureaucratic inertia and ineptitude that was rife within the Greek medical system imposed severe limitations upon the success of UNRRA’s medical programs. Equally, it makes the lack of turnover among Canadian nurses, and the continued determination of women such as Heather Kilpatrick and Mary Henderson, even more remarkable. Conclusion Nursing in wartime was full of uncertainties. Preliminary estimates of where and when nurses would be needed proved wrong; medical supplies failed to arrive; and repatriation was delayed by lack of shipping, forcing nursing reassignments to be delayed in turn. In Greece, all of these challenges were complicated by the outbreak and political aftermath of civil war. Moreover, political decisions taken by UNRRA’s Council saw the belated expansion of the Health Division’s responsibilities in Italy and elsewhere, putting new demands on nursing personnel and medical-supply distribution within the Middle East. In the early days, UNRRA’s immaturity as an international organization meant that nurses faced those challenges in isolation from headquarters; the trip of chief nurses Johnston and Udell marked the beginning of an effort to establish the supervisory and reporting structure that more permanent effective organizations required. Distance and unreliable communications further compromised early efforts to fashion

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efficient administrative controls and procedures. All in all, personal solutions rather than administrative process and control were the hallmarks of the Nursing Division’s early forays into field operations. Looking back, one is struck by the courage, tenacity, and resourcefulness of the Canadian UNRRA nurses posted to camps in the Middle East, Greece, and Italy. Perhaps what is surprising is how few Canadian nurses resigned and how those who stayed proved resilient enough to support other young women in the receiving countries who wanted to choose nursing as a profession. Overall, they were both dedicated and professionally ambitious for new challenges. In recruiting and supporting this talented group of Canadian nurses, Lillian Johnston established her credentials within UNRRA’s Health Division. Her journey took her across thousands of miles at a time when wartime made travel perilous and unpredictable at best. She braved sandstorms and dealt with bouts of illness endemic to areas where the sanitary conditions were notoriously bad. And she consistently proved more interested in improving the work and reputation of the UNRRA’s Nursing Division than in advancing her own career. It was characteristic of Johnston that, as her recruiting responsibilities diminished, consideration was given to appointing her either chief nurse of Italy or chief nurse in the Displaced Persons Division in Germany. Johnston herself wanted it clearly understood that ‘the fact that she has been in charge of nursing activities here at Headquarters in no way would interfere with her serving under Miss Udell ... she has admiration and respect for Miss Udell and would gladly work under her if that is the best arrangement.’ UNRRA’s Washington headquarters, however, was determined to maintain its influence over field operations. The chief of the Health Division, Dr W.A. Sawyer, preferred that a post be found that would use Johnston’s skills and personal knowledge of the nurses recruited, which in his opinion meant her joining Florence Udell on the latter’s tour of the European mission to provide advice on nursing matters.67 In the end, Johnston retained her position as the chief of the nursing branch of the Health Division, Washington, but spent a considerable proportion of her time doing just what Sawyer had recommended. In so doing, she made a valuable contribution to the work of UNRRA’s nursing branch, earning the respect of not only medical personnel in the field but also officials within her own and other divisions at headquarters.68 Johnston’s administrative talents as a troubleshooter would be put to the test when she and Udell were called upon to sort out the adminis-

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tration of nursing services in the U.S. Zone of Germany in 1946. Like them, those Canadians who worked as nurses in UNRRA’s German mission soon discovered that operating a multinational nursing brigade in an occupied country under the aegis of a groundbreaking international organization was a task that could be mastered only through trial and error.

9 Nursing with the Enemy: Germany

Canadian UNRRA nurses in Germany shared many experiences in common with their nursing counterparts elsewhere in UNRRA’s farflung missions; they, too, adapted conventional nursing practices, often without the administrative support or even basic supplies taken for granted back home. Nevertheless, their mandate was distinctive in several respects. In Occupied Germany, the Allied Control Commission rather than UNRRA had responsibility for the de-Nazification and restoration of the national nursing services. The Nursing Division in Germany therefore focused primarily on providing health services for displaced persons housed within UNRRA’s assembly centres and during their repatriation trips back home by boat or train. Caring for the displaced persons, the majority of whom were survivors of the concentration and forced-labour camps, presented nursing challenges that few anticipated. More significantly, the tense social atmosphere of working in a country where, at least initially, fraternization with German civilians was prohibited was a constant reminder to Canadians that they were nursing with the enemy. In fact, given the shortage of trained nurses within UNRRA’s displaced-persons operations, German nurses rounded out the staff in UNRRA hospitals and took care of displaced persons from the camps admitted to civilian hospitals. Nursing and living within a large multinational UNRRA team in an enemy-occupied country intensified and complicated attempts to define professional and personal relationships in the field (see map 3, page xiii). Leading the Way: Lyle Creelman, Madeline Taylor, and Libbie Rutherford The adventures of the three Canadian nurses who held key administra-

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tive positions within UNRRA’s Nursing Division in Germany offer considerable insight into the uniqueness and diversity of the nursing experience in that country during the time of the occupation. An examination of the careers of Lyle Creelman and Madeline Taylor highlights both the differences and similarities between nursing conditions in the two zones of Occupied Germany, while their stories as well as that of Libbie Rutherford illustrate the contributions that Canadian nurses made within the supervisory echelon of UNRRA’s nursing mission in that country. All three women had impressive credentials but their nursing backgrounds were varied. On 11 June 1945 Lyle Creelman was appointed the chief nurse for the British Zone of Occupied Germany. Creelman, whose job was to build the supervisory administrative structure, brought stability and progress early on to the nursing program there. Later, in January 1947, Madeline Taylor was appointed as the third chief nurse of the American Zone. In contrast to Creelman, Taylor rose amidst continuing administrative turmoil and was to preside over the liquidation and transfer of UNRRA’s nursing services to the IRO in July 1947. Libbie Rutherford was appointed chief nurse in charge of the final orientation of nurses at UNRRA’s Mobilization Base in France.1 Poignant snapshots of an UNRRA nurse’s life are provided in the memoirs, letters, and official reports of individual Canadian nurses who served as team nurses and field supervisors throughout both zones. Creelman’s articles for the Canadian Nurse, along with her more frank personal diaries, record her fellow Canadian nurses’ adjustments to life in the British Zone. Similarly, Taylor’s field reports as she rose through the ranks capture the experiences of many of her fellow Canadians within the American Zone of Occupied Germany. In her final UNRRA post, Taylor was delegated the task of drafting the history of nursing in the American Zone. Finally, in the early days in the field, many Canadian nurses shared their experiences and concerns by letter with Chief Nurse Libbie Rutherford. In fact, they had few alternatives for seeking advice; ‘official communications [from headquarters] reaching the nurses were nil and personal letters were the only method of communication.’2 Part of Rutherford’s responsibilities also included reporting to zone headquarters on field visits in Germany. Although she believed that her ‘work at base is carried on in a sort of vacuum’3 too far removed from the field operations, her reports complement the picture portrayed through the letters she received from Canadian nurses. Viewed together, all this material weaves a rich tap-

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estry that depicts Canadian UNRRA nurses’ struggle to define their private and professional space as international nurses in Occupied Germany. Even before her appointment, Lyle Creelman was well known to the nursing leadership within Canada and quickly identified as a strong candidate for an important nursing post within UNRRA. A graduate of the combined University of British Columbia and Vancouver General Hospital in 1936 and a recipient of the prestigious Rockefeller Fellowship in 1938, she graduated with a master’s degree in supervision and administration in public-health nursing from Teachers College, Columbia University, in 1939. From 1941 until her appointment to UNRRA, she had been the director of the Nursing Division of the Metropolitan Health Committee in Vancouver, in which capacity she had glimpsed life within the Japanese internment camp in her own city.4 She had also been active in nursing politics at the provincial and national levels, serving, for example, as chair of the Public Health Nursing Section of the CNA and president of the Registered Nurses Association of British Columbia. She always thrived on challenge and grew impatient with inactivity or when assignments became routine. Quietly ambitious, a demanding but empathetic nursing administrator, Creelman would actively seek an UNRRA assignment that would test her both personally and professionally. Madeline Taylor was promoted to be the third chief nurse of the American Zone as a result of her service in the field. The first Canadian nurse to be discharged by the Royal Canadian Army Medical Corps so that she could join UNRRA, Taylor was given a strong recommendation for the position based both on her service record as ‘an exemplary officer’ and on the relevance of her previous public-health nursing experience. No stranger to the dangers involved in wartime nursing, she had already narrowly escaped death when the troop ship upon which she was travelling was torpedoed en route to Italy. Her impressive language credentials – she was fluent in both French and German – complemented her nursing credentials. She had studied public-health nursing as a recipient of the prestigious Mildred Forbes Scholarship from the Montreal General Hospital, and subsequently practised with the Montreal branch of the Victorian Order of Nurses for several years until her enlistment. As a nursing sister at the No. 22 Canadian General Hospital, her responsibilities had included training orderlies.5 Such supervisory and teaching experiences were skills that UNRRA both needed and actively sought. Her rapid rise from team nurse to area

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supervisor and, ultimately, chief nurse for the American Zone of Germany was nevertheless a remarkable achievement. Libbie Rutherford was a woman of courage and determination. She held strong social convictions, possessed an innate intellectual curiosity, and preferred action to listening. Her political journey towards the left originated in her efforts to come to grips with the adverse effects of the Depression on public health and the delivery of health care in Montreal. In her volunteer work at the Montreal General, where she had graduated, she was constantly reminded ‘of the depression by the overcrowded clinic, overworked doctors and nurses, helpless patients waiting endlessly it seemed for attention.’6 She became a staunch fighter for the rights of the economically disadvantaged to medical care. During the 1930s, she developed a close personal friendship with Norman Bethune while participating in the work of the Montreal Group for the Security of the People’s Health, the first organization in Canada to fight for socialized medicine and universal free medical care. ‘It was a friendship made intense by the climate of the time, the sense of urgency and later of shared responsibility to act against the mindless indifference that allowed the depression to continue and sought to avoid war by appeasing the fascist dictators.’7 More than shared socialist values, however, attracted her to work with Bethune. ‘Norman,’ she wrote, ‘understood from the beginning something that not all doctors at that time would have accepted.’ The Montreal Group ‘was not to be only a medical group, a group of doctors; it was to be medical and health group, which to be of real value had to include all allied professions, and if possible they should be included in working out a health plan.’8 By the time she joined UNRRA, Rutherford had a clear sense of the role of the nurse within the health-care system and the kind of public-health system that industrialized nations required for reasons of social justice. After she left Montreal, her continuing interest in public-health issues led to further studies at University of Toronto, and her subsequent decision to volunteer with UNRRA was an extension of her struggle against poverty and sickness and war. Her UNRRA years were also a time of personal transition. In 1948 she divorced and married Frank Park. Creelman and the Politics of International Nursing Creelman left Canada believing that her UNRRA appointment as chief nurse had been finalized. That was not the case: politics at several levels shaped Canadian nurses’ experiences overseas. In this regard, Creel-

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man’s UNRRA career provides an instructive lens into the tangled web of administrative and international politics in which the UNRRA Nursing Division was forced to function. UNRRA’s Washington and London headquarters operated as separate, if not competitive, administrative organizations. Chief nursing appointments were therefore political, reflecting the ongoing rivalry between the two headquarters for administrative control, especially over the displaced-persons operations in Europe. During the mandatory training period at UNRRA’s training centre, Creelman deftly ensconced herself in Chief Nurse Lillian Johnston’s Washington office, where the key nursing assignments would be negotiated with London. Even so, her first proposed assignment as chief of nursing in the Balkan mission was overturned in London by Chief Nurse Florence Udell in favour of a British nurse. In November 1944 she finally boarded a troop ship in New York bound for London, expecting to take up her post as the chief nurse in Poland, but then she encountered several months’ delay as UNRRA failed to get the staffing for the Polish mission approved by Russia. Once again she repeated the Washington pattern and carefully seized the opportunity to work in Chief Nurse Florence Udell’s office, where she could more effectively press her case for any important nursing post which opened up on the continent. When she lobbied Udell for reassignment, however, she was chagrined to learn that any decision about this would have to wait until the jockeying ended between Washington and London over key nursing appointments, including the determination of Lillian Johnston’s future role once recruiting finished. Deeply frustrated, Creelman wrote that ‘I am getting tired of waiting and know that if I had to return to Wash to wait I would just resign and go home. They would just manufacture some clerk’s job for me in Johnston’s office for me. Had enough of that last fall. Had lunch with Miss Udell yesterday. Had a frank talk about the whole thing. She would like me with D.P. and could probably find a supervisory job or even better for me ... Johnston is coming over ... to be Chief Nurse for D.P.s in Germany. (Miss Udell and Rolf Struthers both say I could do a better job!).’ It made Creelman ‘boil to think that she [Johnston] would be brought over here when I am sitting here doing nothing. That seems to be the way things are done in UNRRA.’9 In midJune 1945, her perseverance and lobbying finally paid off. She was reassigned as the chief nurse for the British Zone of Occupied Germany. Despite the frustration and loneliness resulting from the prolonged delay in taking up her first UNRRA post, Creelman’s time in London

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proved invaluable for her future assignment. Those months gave her a preliminary glimpse of what conditions would be like in war-devastated countries as she experienced first hand the buzz bombs that screeched through the London night skies. Her diary recorded the apprehension that she and her overnight guests, including the fellow Canadian who would become her deputy chief nurse, Norena Mackenzie, felt as the silence one night was shattered by a V-2 landing not far from their billet: ‘It was a very funny feeling. I knew that all was over, I started to tremble and just could not control myself.’ Afterwards, they drew all the beds into one room for the rest of the night, ‘thankful that it caused no loss of life.’ They hoped ‘never again to be in such close contact to one when it is exploding.’10 By then, Creelman had already seen and heard graphic accounts of the shocking conditions which nurses endured while caring for the concentration-camp survivors at Belsen, soon to be the flagship UNRRA hospital in the British Zone and her responsibility. Feeling guilty that she was receiving a salary during her forced idleness, Creelman volunteered to work with Dutch refugee children who had been sent to Coventry, England, to recover from years of malnutrition. Articles she wrote for the Canadian Nurse recorded her work with the lively, mischievous and happy children, who constantly let the air out of her bike tires. Clearly, the old resistance tactics previously used against German soldiers had not entirely disappeared from the children’s repertoire.11 Creelman’s public demeanour camouflaged her private reservations about the quality of the transient UNRRA medical staff with whom she worked at Coventry – she was appalled by how little the Dutch staff knew about proper techniques of feeding children – and she also bristled at the condescending treatment the nursing staff received from the Dutch medical personnel. She soon made it clear to Dutch authorities that their expectation that the UNRRA nurse was a housekeeper, chauffeur, and general clerical assistant did not fit her understanding of the nurse’s role. In short, her time at Coventry provided an early indication of the psychological state of her future patients and the political acumen that would be required to deal with the bureaucratic and cultural obstacles waiting in Germany. The UNRRA nursing brigade within the British Zone was made up of twelve different nationalities; the American Zone was composed of nurses from seventeen different countries. In such circumstances, experience in supervising a multinational nursing corps had to be acquired on the job.

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Creelman was ambitious, politically astute, and confident of her ability to exercise authority. Once appointed chief nurse, she used her remaining time in London to forge professional relationships with other British voluntary agencies, already at work in the field, and the chief nurses of the Allied Control Committee, whose responsibility for overseeing the de-Nazification of the national German nursing service included German nurses within UNRRA’s hospitals. Creelman was carefully establishing boundaries that would avoid future jurisdictional squabbles. Simultaneously, the newly appointed chief nurse of the British Zone took steps to see that she was perceived in this manner by both those in authority and those with whom she would have future dealings. More delays lay ahead, she discovered, before the ‘irksome but essential red tape’ required for travel to an enemy country could be cleared away. Even then her Channel crossing was extremely slow as the ship had to proceed with extreme caution through ocean lanes strewn with thousands of mines broken loose by the storm then raging.12 At times in the months ahead, the stormy sea passage appeared no more difficult or dangerous than the task of organizing the nursing services within the British Zone. But Creelman’s personality was such that she preferred a tough new assignment to sitting around. Typically, she turned down an opportunity the following December to become the chief nurse of Poland. Expressing her strong feelings to her superiors about any reassignment at the time, she wrote: ‘I do not think that it would be fair to leave the job here, and in addition to that I am not convinced that there would not be a repetition of my last winter’s experience of enforced idleness. There is a real nursing job to be done here.’13 Creelman would resign in June 1946 believing that the clear call to duty had passed as UNRRA was expected to wind down its nursing services over the next six months. As it turned out, nurses would be required in the field considerably longer than anticipated. Creelman received the respect and support of civilian and military authorities in the British Zone – something denied her counterparts in the American Zone. In particular, she developed a close working relationship with Sir Raphael Cilento, the Australian physician who ultimately became the director of the British Zone. She joined Cilento in the early stage of negotiating the agreement whereby the military authorities would transfer to UNRRA the responsibility for providing medical services to the displaced persons in the British Zone, and Belsen Hospital in particular. The frequent picnic lunches and suppers during their

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travels provided an opportunity for quiet conversation that developed into a friendship based upon mutual respect. Creelman admired and shared Cilento’s vision of their work in Germany as laying the groundwork for the development of a more permanent world health organization. After the tough negotiations over the transfer of Belsen Hospital to UNRRA, she confided to her diary ‘that he is a marvellous diplomat, I am sure that no one else could handle the situation as he is doing.’14 A measure of their friendship is that, while UNRRA nurses generally received a low priority in billeting, Cilento, after being appointed director, insisted that Creelman be provided with accommodation in the director’s house, close to headquarters. Early Days in the Field In the American and British zones alike, many of the difficulties experienced were the legacy of attempting to build an international nursing brigade within an administrative structure that only gradually emerged and frequently changed. Recognition of the benefits of a separate nursing supervisory echelon was achieved only after a hard-fought battle. It was not until June 1945 that a district supervisory nursing echelon was approved in the field in the British Zone; by July 1945, the American Zone had followed. When Creelman first arrived in the field in mid-July 1945, regional headquarters within the British Zone was still trying to fix the actual location of its teams. As another UNRRA nurse recalled these early days in the British Zone, ‘every journey was an adventure and, if we arrived safely back at Headquarters in the late evening; we felt almost the exhilaration of the great explorers.’15 Out of this chaos, ‘some organization did come.’16 Until then, the first nurses into the field, in both the British and American zones, would have to rely on their own resourcefulness. Despite the Canadian nurses’ impressive qualifications, their work with UNRRA abroad presented them with formidable nursing challenges that few if any had fully anticipated. Professional and personal relationships had to be worked out within a wide variety of conditions and practice settings. Especially in the early months, the variation in medical facilities within UNRRA camps was astounding; some were excellent and others simply shocking. The need to adapt nursing to accommodate the cultural and religious differences among the highly transitory camp population meant that nursing practices were estab-

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lished within assembly centres by trial and error. Consequently, individual Canadians’ experiences as team nurses were as different as the personalities of their teams and the medical set-ups within their camps. Most Canadian nurses would rise to the challenge; a few would not. Team nurses had significant supervisory duties that went far beyond providing traditional bedside care. Included in the team nurses’ responsibilities were developing a nursing program and finding and allocating nursing personnel from among the displaced-persons community, as well as supervision of the actual work done by the displaced-persons nurses in the hospitals, infirmaries, and clinics. In addition to these nursing duties, the team nurse was expected to oversee the sanitation of billets, living quarters, latrines, and grounds of the camps; set up immunization routines; establish isolation facilities; supervise the children’s kitchens and prepare special diets and formula; oversee the nursing care given to the displaced-persons patients in civilian hospitals by the German nursing staff; arrange all the medical aspects for the repatriation trains; and, finally, provide basic instruction for nurses and nurses’ aides from among the displaced persons in the camps. One of the first Canadian nurses whom Libbie Rutherford sent forward into Germany was Madeline Taylor. Assigned as the nurse for Team 186 at the Bischofsgrun Sanatorium, she scrounged medical supplies wherever possible, faced fuel shortages that threatened to close the Bischofsgrun facility, and confronted uncooperative German Burgomasters to obtain the fresh vegetables, milk, and eggs that the tuberculosis patients desperately needed. For Taylor, ‘it came as quite a shock to learn that our displaced persons (some who are very ill) had no night nurses, (neither had the German patients).’ Cultural difficulties complicated her attempts to carry out the mandatory VD screening, as evidenced by the comment in one of her reports that ‘some difficulty was encountered in “persuading” the men to be examined.’17 But perhaps her greatest frustration as a team nurse was the lack of adequate transportation to carry out nursing visits to the widely dispersed camps. Although UNRRA doctors and nurses were arriving in the camps and would ultimately assume full responsibility for medical and sanitation services within them, those programs remained under the military’s jurisdiction until about the end of 1945. Especially in the early days, when teams often had just a doctor or a nurse, the only medical personnel that the UNRRA nurses could look to for assistance were the medical officers in the local military unit. Since the medical officers

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were as transient as the camp’s population, it was often difficult to establish effective working relationships, compounding the difficulties that the UNRRA nurses faced in obtaining medical supplies. Taylor observed that UNRRA nurses’ relationships with military medical personnel in the American Zone ran the whole gamut.18 She recalled, for example, that while she worked around the clock including weekends to establish medical set-ups in five different camps to care for 8,000 displaced persons, a 200–bed hospital in what was formerly a German prison, and a TB sanatorium of 1,000 beds, she experienced ‘three changes of (military) medical officers in one week. The second one she didn’t see, nor did she think he knew he was there himself.’19 Taylor found that many officers and enlisted men were interested only in how soon they would go home, and that they had little real interest in UNRRA’s work. The UNRRA teams, even though they were subject to frequent personnel transfers, still provided the essential continuity of medical services for the camps during the start-up period. Taylor survived the ordeal under fire, proving her adaptability and capacity to exercise independent judgment. Nor were the challenges she faced unusual: other Canadian nurses in the field experienced similar difficulties in adjusting to the arduous and unexpected conditions. In letters to Libbie Rutherford, or in face-to-face meetings during her inspection trips, they told her comparable stories of attempting to define personal space and navigate professional relationships with other medical professionals, often of different nationality. From Heilbaam in August 1945, a former public-health nurse from Ontario, Victoria Pete, described her frantic days of nursing with UNRRA. She apologized in advance to Rutherford for the ‘phraseology ... of over stimulated brain flashes.’ Perhaps a better explanation was simple exhaustion. She had ‘not worked less than fourteen hours daily, even today Sunday I worked 12 hours.’ It was nothing ‘what I expected. It is almost unbelievable, the work I do. Anything but actual nursing work.’ When she had requested hard work, she confessed, ‘I thought of something in the line of our usual Public Health Routine, but this is everything.’ Her days were filled ‘getting blood donors, seeing pregnant mothers in labour, sick children and supervising of food.’ Yet, despite her hectic schedule, the next day she still planned ‘to start my ward systematically, by teaching new aides all that is possible.’ She found it hard ‘to imagine that I am alive, but believe it or not I am happier than I have ever been in a long, long time ... as a whole, I see a glimpse of light clearing the situation, and then I shall take a few hours

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off to wash my hair.’20 The hard work was balanced by a sense of newfound independence as her nursing talents and skills were called upon in novel and creative ways. Other Canadian nurses relished the opportunities for individual creativity that came in the early days in the field. Cecelia Goldberg’s description of a first assignment supervising the health and sanitation in two Kreises, or counties, at Weiblingen typified the gruelling conditions that many Canadian nurses faced without a doctor on their team during UNRRA’s start-up period.21 Goldberg was forced to recruit a Polish medical student when the team’s UNRRA doctor was sent home. In their inspections of the many camps (ranging in size from ten people to five hundred or more), she found that the majority were clean but at least twelve camps had ‘rather unwholesome surroundings – toilet very primitive, cooking out of doors-garbage strewn all over the camps.’ Very few had medical facilities so that it was necessary ‘to open up infirmaries and give them enough medical supplies for first aid work.’ But the conditions here paled against what awaited her at Schloss Langenzell, which housed survivors from the concentration camps. The privies there were so insufficient for the camp population that even those that were not working in the local castle were being used until she had them boarded up! The sleeping accommodations were overcrowded, there were far too few mattresses, the rooms were strewn with uncovered food and dirty dishes – there were no garbage receptacles, no brooms, no soap, and no hot water. The reason for Goldberg’s request for a transfer remains unclear. By the time of her departure from Schloss Langenzell, she had, however, established a ‘very good and almost adequate infirmary.’22 In sharp contrast to Taylor’s experience with the American military authorities, Canadian nurses such as Norah Madden informed Rutherford that, without the assistance of the RCAF, her job would have proved impossible. When she arrived at the Russian Displaced Person Camp 178, Bockhorn, Germany, the sanitary and medical facilities were primitive: ‘The camp has no ambulance service, no hospital, no doctors or nurses ... Babies are born in the barracks under very crude conditions. There were no clothes for the new born babies.’ Since the site had been a former German airfield, the sound of explosions was usually a signal that one of the Russian displaced persons, ‘who took great pleasure in playing with and exploding if possible the small grenades and bombs left behind, had been blown up.’ By the time she was withdrawn from the camp on 4 August 1945, Madden had obtained the coopera-

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tion of the RCAF to secure and eventually destroy the ammunition left behind and to regularize the flow of badly needed medical supplies, equipment, and layettes so that she could set up and run a maternity ward in one of the smaller camps. She had also arranged for the Canadian medical corps to provide ambulance service whenever it was needed and convinced the Royal Canadian Engineers to make a small barracks fit enough to set up a hospital ‘the way I would like the hospital arranged.’ Given the shortage of medical personnel, Madden worked closely with doctors chosen from among the Russian displaced-persons community. As she noted in a report, ‘a meeting of all doctors was called by me and I made suggestions they try to organize the Camp along these lines ...This was organized according to my plan and was found to work well.’ There were times when she had to compromise on the organization of the medical program; when she had suggested, for example, that a small sick bay be started in the central camp as well as the dispensary, ‘the senior Russian doctor objected rather strenuously to it and I had to content myself with a small maternity [ward] in the small camp.’23 Madden ably managed her relationships with the military authorities and medical staff without diverting her attention from other nursing programs. Despite her busy schedule, she had begun to give some nurses’ aide training to promote greater self-sufficiency for basic medical care within the camps. Too often, misunderstandings occurred when the doctor, welfare officers, and nurses had different training and expectations and lacked a common language to sort them out. When Janet Vanderwell, a former nursing sister, found herself ‘most unhappy with the eight French speaking members of her team’ because there was ‘absolutely no companionship for me at all because the other two girls, Welfare and clerk, are both French,’ she sought Rutherford’s help to redress the situation. But what she found even more discouraging was the lack of effort among her team to move forward and improve the living condition of the refugees under their care: ‘The Doctor and I cannot plan anything together at all and I don’t really see how we will get along. The hygiene and sanitation in the camps is appalling but I can’t find out what the French standards are. I don’t think that they are the same as mine from what I observe living with so many of them.’24 Yet, in spite of these difficulties, she demonstrated her independent spirit and proceeded to set up a training program for nurses’ aides. Encouraging her to carry on, her supervisors were at the same time actively requesting the removal

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of the doctor with whom she had disagreed from the team! In the end, it was Vanderwell who was reassigned. In contrast to the other letters Rutherford received, Jean Williams’s letter described the living and working conditions for the Canadian nurses stationed at Camp Wildflecken in the American Zone in glowing terms: ‘This is one of the first camps to be turned over to UNRRA completely and one of the best in Germany.’ Originally built as a training centre for SS and Panzer troops, Wildflecken looked ‘like anything but a displaced persons camp.’ Actually, Williams wrote, ‘Forest Hill Village or Lawrence Park are more like it than anything else I can compare it with.’ She and her fellow Ontarian, Elizabeth Petrie, were ‘rooming together in luxury with a piano, and balcony glassed in on the windward side. Our relations with the Army are A1, both professionally and socially.’25 Both Williams and Petrie, or ‘Pete,’ as Williams had nicknamed her, had a hospital to supervise. ‘The nurses in my hospital – 4 of them have everything well organized – so I don’t do any nursing but am trying to scrounge a little better equipment – see that the kitchen runs smoothly and a million and one things.’26 Life at Wildflecken was far more turbulent in many areas than her letter suggested. Williams’s director, an American named Kathryn Hulme, had a less rosy perspective on the camp’s operations as she struggled with the giant task of organizing a city of fifteen thousand inhabitants: ‘When we entered the camp, Army was in control in the form of a Captain, but he ‘took off at the end of the first week,’ leaving us without ‘a clue as to what had gone on in the camp prior to our arrival.’27 Again, Hulme offered a candid description of her nurses’ efforts to compensate for the ‘NON AVAILABLE’ stamps that chequered their medical-requisition requests: ‘Our UNRRA nurses were on the hunt for thermometers, bed pans, baby scales, breast pumps and syringes[,] purchasing these when they found them with anything the Germans would accept, generally silk stockings, cigarettes or coffee and food stuffs received from home.’ In fact, for example, medical supplies were so scarce that the Wildflecken team ‘worked for more than a year with a Rube Goldberg baby scale created by one of our Canadian nurses from weird objects found in the Machine Shop and examined nearly 5,000 women for VD with the total of 6 rubber glove-fingers, which the team had been sent in response to its original requisition for 2000.’28 Despite the ‘perfect set up’ and ‘rosy picture’ she had painted, Williams herself acknowledged that ‘it is a very difficult task ... There is the inevitable friction between team members which though not serious do

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[sic] lead to the inevitable gossiping. It is extremely necessary to stop everything & quietly think about the overall picture. I take a deep breath, count to ten & plod along. Each department has its headaches.’29 Hulme, for her part, confirmed that her idealistic attempt ‘to foster team spirit’ among her UNRRA staff to carry them ‘through months of round the clock toil’ was strewn with casualties: ’5 ran away from the team without orders, 6 were taken by District, 5 were transferred, 10 resigned, 9 were terminated and 2 were arrested by military authorities.’30 The Canadian nurses persevered until they were declared redundant. The difficulties experienced by the Canadian nurses joining UNRRA’s staff were representative of those widely reported from the field and substantiate that, in headquarters’ frenzied rush to get UNRRA teams into the field, too little consideration was given to individual nursing appointments or the need to supervise and support the nursing staff’s work. Even when where there was an excellent relationship with the military authorities, and reasonable living conditions, other problems – incredible workloads, shortages of medical supplies, and inadequate transportation – were acute. The vignettes presented above illustrate the tact, perseverance, ingenuity, and physical stamina required of Canadian women if they were to survive as UNRRA nurses, sometimes without a team doctor, and sometimes without the logistical support of the military authorities or even the camaraderie of their team members. When their circumstances proved untenable, they were not afraid to demand a change in assignment. Amazingly, no one who wrote to Rutherford wanted to quit. The Nursing Division Matures Lyle Creelman’s steady hand would guide nursing within the British Zone right from the start, while Madeline Taylor would inherit the unenviable task of disassembling a nursing service within the American Zone that lacked comparable administrative stability. When Creelman first arrived in the field in mid-July 1945, several things needed to be done to overcome the sagging morale among her nurses and the predisposition of the military authorities and voluntary societies to view UNRRA as the untried newcomer. Her first task was to get nursing supervisors into the field in order to standardize and support the level of nursing care being provided within the UNRRA camps in the British Zone. Since many team leaders and nurses were not receptive to the idea of being supervised, Creelman knew that her choices for

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these supervisory positions would be crucial. Four of the eleven initial district field nursing supervisors were Canadians: Lillian Rankin, Frances Pearl, Heather Gleason, and Jean Watt. Another well-qualified nurse, Edna Osborne, who had worked both as a public-health nurse with the Victorian Order of Nurses in Ottawa and in Sherbrooke and later (1942–5) as a medical social worker in Montreal where she had attended the McGill School of Social Work, subsequently received promotion in March 1946 to the position of field supervisor because of her ‘outstanding work’ in a large assembly centre of eighteen thousand: ‘She is a keen, intelligent, sympathetic and interested worker and commands the respect of all with whom she comes in contact.’31 The group had additional qualifications beyond their impressive public-health credentials. Rankin, Pearl, and Watt had all been nursing sisters with the Canadian Army; Rankin was qualified in psychiatric nursing and Osborne was a medical social worker.32 Creelman paid special tribute to the accomplishments of the UNRRA nurses chosen to fill these challenging appointments as field supervising nurses. Their appointments, she said, led to the better utilization of nursing manpower and support for team nurses, ‘many of whom were not trained in public health or in the appreciation of a public health program.’33 The advice and moral support of the field supervisors were especially crucial in sorting out the problems of maladjustment or underutilization of nursing services that had plagued UNRRA’s early days in the field. Other Canadian nurses’ experience in both zones supported Creelman’s assessment of the leadership provided by the field supervisors. One of these was Mary Dunn. In a brief team history, written in June 1946, Dunn captured the essence of being a team nurse in charge of the public-health nursing program for an assembly centre of fourteen thousand displaced persons near Hamburg.34 She may have been selected for this challenging post because she had worked with Creelman at the Metropolitan Health Committee in Vancouver before joining UNRRA.35 In any case, her account makes more understandable the importance of the role played by field supervisors in persuading the nurses under them to accept the limitations of public-health programs among highly transient camp populations where cultural values and public health traditions were vastly different from Canadian standards. While Dunn had quickly made improvements in public health within the camp by accommodating the programs to local cultural conditions, she remained concerned about her lack of success in other areas. Thus, for example,

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when it became apparent that mothers were not bringing their children to receive cod liver oil at the baby clinics, she found a woman in each of the blocks to be responsible for administering the dose and a sweet to each child. These women were able to explain to the mothers why they should give the scarce cod liver oil to their babies instead of using it as grease for shoes! Dunn had come to realize that mothers would have fewer tendencies to hide sick children from a health worker from their own community than from an outsider. Creelman later acknowledged that others took longer to make that adjustment: ‘Many [camp residents] had suffered so much deterioration of morale and there were so many things that had to be done immediately as a matter of urgency, that it seemed easier – as it always does – to do it oneself.’36 But Dunn’s progress in identifying and containing the TB patients among the highly transitory camp population was much more limited: ‘It was difficult to teach any practical lessons to TB patients of immediate value as most of them were about to return to Poland with no facilities for the protection of others en route, nor had they any idea of conditions awaiting them in Poland. Many of them had no idea of the nature of their illness, nor how it was spread.’37 Since Dunn and other assembly-centre nurses were dealing with aspects of public health that were new for them, visits from the supervisors provided opportunities to gain practical advice on how similar situations were being dealt with by other teams’ nurses and what could be realistically accomplished. UNRRA nurses in the British Zone, thanks to Creelman, had that support in place well before a chief nurse had even been appointed to the American Zone. Creelman met with her supervisors in person and made every effort to visit as many team nurses, including the Canadians, as possible. Her trips to the field and the reports she received from the other supervisors permitted a better utilization of nursing manpower within the British Zone and helped to improve the morale within the nursing brigade in spite of the hardships faced.38 And her decisions went beyond considering and balancing staffing levels. Time after time at nursing conferences held throughout the zone, for example, she encouraged her staff to start making arrangements for the Polish repatriations. The UNRRA nurse, according to Creelman, ‘does not work under the Doctor as is still the opinion of some Team Directors and lay people who do not have any knowledge of any other kind of nurse than one that does actual bedside nursing.’39 She reminded ‘them to assume their rightful place in the team as a large percentage of the nurses in this zone not

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only have their state registration but Public Health and additional qualifications.’40 This was a constant concern for Creelman, who viewed her nurses’ prime function at all levels as supervisory and was quick to remove them from situations that could be handled by nurses’ aides or that underutilized their supervisory skills. She transferred a Canadian nurse, Heather Gleason, from her position as the supervisor of a German hospital with a four-hundred-bed capacity to a full-time field supervisory position when it turned out that the hospital would never have more than eighty patients from among the displaced-persons community. Margaret Inglis was removed from her posting at Adelheide because the team director showed little interest in having her supervise the camp’s activities from the public-health point of view instead of concentrating her efforts in the small hospital manned by Polish doctors. In the end, a dissatisfied Inglis decided to return to Canada. Although Creelman had received field reports indicating that her fellow Canadian, Jean Watt, appeared to have assimilated the defeatist attitude rife within her UNRRA team, she knew from her own discussions with the UNRRA team doctor that ‘he takes a very difficult attitude towards nursing and had no idea what it means to supervise.’41 Recognizing the difficulty of the situation, she decided to give Watt a chance as field supervisor, believing that once she was removed from the negative environment she would do a good job. Watt went on to provide valuable service not only within the German mission but also within the UNRRA Nursing Division in Greece. Wherever possible, Creelman attempted to ease her nurses’ transition by placing them where their specific special nursing skills could be put to best use and by insisting that they play the kind of supervisory role for which they had been recruited. At a time when field visits were essential both to improve morale and to provide much-needed guidance to many young nurses, Creelman’s superiors credited her with preventing ‘a great many resignations from the British Zone by making contact with the nurses in the nick of time.’42 Her successor as chief nurse of the British Zone also praised her efforts: ‘When it was known that here was a Nursing Officer at Regional Headquarters and that she was available to the nurses, and was occupied in visiting them in their camps, interviewing their team Directors and Medical Officers, trying to help solve some of the problems that confronted them, I believed that the morale was considerably raised.’43 As her letters to the Canadian Nurse indicated, Creelman kept in close

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contact with Canadians who were deliberately chosen as hospital supervisors in trouble spots or high-profile assignments, such as UNRRA’s flagship hospital at Belsen. Particular importance was placed on this hospital because it was the first one that UNRRA took over from the British military authorities. Similarly, Creelman chose to appoint Norena Mackenzie as a hospital supervisor with the job of cleaning up the unsatisfactory nursing situation in Lübeck, where she again did ‘an excellent job.’ Mackenzie, a graduate of the School for Graduate Nurses at McGill University, and a Florence Nightingale Foundation Scholar, not only had extensive administrative experience within Canada at the Montreal General and the Sick Children’s Hospital in Toronto but also had a proven track record in her two previous UNRRA assignments in Africa and Italy. Creelman avoided mentioning to her Canadian readers that neither she nor Mackenzie realized that the latter would uncover an appalling scandal – the UNRRA doctor was actually running a brothel! With the arrival of a new doctor, Mackenzie had the hospital well organized in relatively short order and took the initiative to launch one of the first training programs for nurses’ aides within the British Zone even before the renovations at the hospital were complete.44 Taylor’s leadership was just as decisive. Despite the challenges to her authority, she maintained a clear view of what the preventative and supervisory role of the UNRRA nurse should be. After her appointment to one of the new regional supervisory positions in the American Zone, at Bamberg, Taylor supported her nurses’ demands for adequate transportation, reasonable workloads, and a clear division of responsibilities within the team.45 Given the critical shortage of personnel in the early days, the nurses frequently had to be the welfare and messing officers, who took care of supplies and feeding the camps, for the team. Like Creelman, Taylor insisted that welfare work be excluded from the UNRRA nurses’ responsibilities. Thus, for example, her report on Team 176 praised the special accomplishments and initiatives of a fellow Canadian, Helen Cameron, but strongly recommended that Cameron ‘confine her time to medical work’ and that unaccompanied children be removed from the hospital, for not only was it a unsuitable environment for their development but it ‘adds confusion in running the hospital.’46 Yet the lack of a clear delineation of responsibilities between the two functional areas continued, leading to considerable overlapping if not working at cross-purposes, just as it had in the British Zone. Taylor’s experience in the American Zone substantiates the view that, while field supervision improved both morale and nursing services

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over time, it did not completely remedy the blurred lines of professional responsibility between team members. Taylor’s job as chief nurse was to oversee the wind-down of UNRRA’s nursing program and to ensure that the nursing supervision could be handed over to the successor international or national agency. In planning the redundancies, there was the all-too- human problem of conflicting priorities between the chief nurse and some of the camp directors. Taylor noted in a report that ‘it takes considerable persuasion to convince certain Area Directors, who are inclined to keep a nurse sometimes because she has pretty eyes, or because she has a pleasant personality, etc that certain other nurses should be retained instead.’47Again her actions, like those of Creelman, supported the view of a nurse as a highly trained professional, accordingly to which nurses were to be declared redundant on the basis of their performance evaluations alone. The history of the UNRRA Nursing Division in Germany suggests that Creelman had greater discretionary control than her counterparts in the American Zone. Thus, despite the efforts of both of UNRRA’s chief nurses, Lillian Johnston and Florence Udell, to intercede on the behalf of the first chief nurse of the American Zone, there was little improvement after their visit. The chief medical officer continued to assign and promote nurses without regard to nursing qualifications and without consulting the chief nurse.48 Stable leadership provided by the chief nurses within the British Zone facilitated the earlier development of an effective supervisory function, and, consequently, resignations did not appear to be as frequent as they were in the American Zone. Even in the British Zone, however, improved supervision and support for nurses in the field failed to address one of the most serious issues that afflicted the operation of UNRRA’s Nursing Division in Germany. How the chief nurses addressed this issue was a measure of the effectiveness of their leadership and their perception of the role and responsibilities of the nursing profession. Defining Professional Status Both Taylor and Creelman believed that improving the status of UNRRA nurses was an essential part of rehabilitating the nursing services in the war-torn countries to a more modern footing. But how could they argue the case for professional recognition when it was denied within UNRRA’s international nursing brigade? As already noted, UNRRA nurses held significantly lower positions in the organi-

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zation’s thirteen-step grading system than other UNRRA workers, who frequently had far less professional qualifications. The grading system was especially crucial since it was used to determine salary levels and staff priority for housing, transportation, and other social amenities in the field. It is significant that, while Creelman and the CNA leadership stressed the issue of professional status on its own terms, Taylor and other nursing leaders who had risen through the ranks were more concerned with how their inferior status impeded their job performance. Whatever the differences in emphasis, however, Taylor’s and Creelman’s objectives were the same: both were outspoken in their demands for greater recognition of UNRRA’s nurses’ contribution as health professionals. Creelman expressed her outrage in a strongly worded letter to Florence Udell, the ERO chief nurse: ‘It is a most preposterous situation that the nurses should be given only Grade 6 and the Assistant Welfare Officer Grade 8 and the Principal Welfare Officer Grade 10. The latter is a higher grade than given to the Zone Chief Nurse.’49 Taylor, too, took umbrage at the fact that ‘the “brand new truck driver” received $400.00 more a year than a professional woman who has been nursing for 10 or 15 years’ and that ‘the assistant welfare worker, who taught children how to play games, a person who frequently had no special training, was two grades higher than a nurse!’50 Even in her position as chief nurse, Taylor complained that she had no transport of her own and was forced to call an ambulance from the infirmary to carry out her duties. There was almost universal agreement in both the American and British zones that the low position of nurses on UNRRA’s grading scale undermined the nurses’ authority in the field and contributed to the problem of low morale. In reviewing the nursing experience in the British Zone, the chief nurse who replaced Creelman wrote that the nurse on the team ‘was treated as the most junior officer or as just the “handmaiden” of the Doctor, without any responsibility for planning a nursing service, as we know it today. Unless the nurse was a strong-minded woman, the struggle was too big, and indeed quite a few good nurses gave it up and returned to their countries, or remained and accepted the situation, devoting their time to simple duties in M.I. [medical investigation] Rooms under the direction of the doctors, which could have easily been performed by nursing aides.’51 There is no doubt that Canadian UNRRA nurses’ professional authority to determine the nursing services was contested in the field. Their behaviour, however, made it clear that the majority were ‘strong-minded’ women not pre-

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pared to tolerate being relegated to the status of second-class citizens. Nor were they about to accept assignments that did not fully utilize their professional skills; they seized, and indeed in some cases actively expanded, the opportunity to move beyond traditional bedside nursing or public-health routines. And, in all these efforts, Creelman and Taylor were determined to be role models for their nurses and supported them in their struggle to maintain their professional authority. The nurses’ strong sense of professional identity was crucial for their survival in the field. When all was said and done, however, the struggle for higher pay and grading levels for nurses met with only limited success and came only late in the organization’s history, primarily to stave off the mass exodus of personnel seeking more permanent employment once UNRRA was terminated. Even then Taylor achieved only a salary level of Grade 10, which remained a grade lower than the senior welfare officer in a camp set-up.52 The ineffectiveness of nursing leaders within the UNRRA Nursing Division on salary and grading issues was symptomatic of the division’s fettered authority within UNRRA’s administrative policy-making circles. Rehabilitating the Nurse and the Woman Although the history of nursing education within the British Zone differed from that in the American Zone, Canadian UNRRA nurses would leave their imprint on nursing-education programs in both zones. In Germany, the primary focus was on training nurses and nurses’ aides, chosen from among the displaced-persons community, to cover the nursing services required within the camps. It was also hoped that those graduating from the UNRRA nursing programs would continue their nursing education upon repatriation. As it became apparent that many within UNRRA’s German displaced-persons camps would never return to their country of origin, the Nursing Division increased its efforts to train nurses and nurses’ aides to work with UNRRA’s successor organization, the IRO. Nursing education within the British Zone was placed upon a secure footing early on owing to the administrative talent and determination of Creelman. While greater administrative stability in the British Zone permitted an earlier start for the nursing education program there than in the American Zone, its introduction was equally a reflection of the educational background and profound lifelong interest in teaching of

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its chief nurse. Throughout Creelman’s long and distinguished career, she considered herself first and foremost an educator.53 Creelman actively ‘head hunted’ within the American Zone of Germany and other UNRRA missions for the Canadian nurse educators she wanted to teach within the British Zone. She brought the well-respected nursing educator Norena Mackenzie, with whom she had spent time in London, to headquarters to oversee the development of nursing education within the British Zone.54 Later, Creelman requested that Libbie Rutherford be reassigned to a teaching post within the British Zone. In March 1946 Rutherford accepted a new assignment as the nurse instructor for the nurses’ aides’ course in the Latvian hospital at Lübeck, a post she held until her resignation from UNRRA in May of that year. In October 1945 Mackenzie was appointed as Creelman’s deputy chief nurse, in which capacity she would continue to focus on the development of the nursing educational program for the British Zone while taking on the added responsibility of making improvements in the nursing services in some of the hospitals and sick bays.55 Mackenzie would later be appointed as a special instructor based in London to teach refresher courses for graduate nurses from many of the countries receiving UNRRA’s assistance. Prior to her appointment, individual Canadian UNRRA nurses, like Mackenzie herself, had often taken initiatives despite the chaotic conditions to give nursing instruction to interested girls and women; while valuable, these makeshift courses lacked uniformity. Before leaving for London in the summer of 1946, Mackenzie had recruited two other Canadians as nursing instructors, Mary Dunn and Jean Lazecko. The latter spoke Russian fluently but unfortunately was recalled to Canada to deal with a family emergency. Rutherford’s and Dunn’s teaching experience and practical nursing experience within Germany varied dramatically, illuminating the range of perspectives and difficulties encountered by Canadian nurse educators working with UNRRA in Germany. By the time of her appointment, Rutherford was an experienced instructor who had a detailed knowledge of the nursing problems throughout the zone. Although far less experienced as a nursing instructor than Rutherford, Dunn had extensive practical knowledge of the public-health and clinical-nursing skills that would continue to be required at the camp level after the IRO assumed responsibility. Both UNRRA nurses had to scrounge supplies from hospital officials, who were dubious about lending them, and exert considerable persuasion to convince the matron on the wards that the long-term educational benefits of the six-week course they were

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planning would far outweigh the short-term benefits of using her students as ward maids. Even then, as the classroom teaching progressed satisfactorily, they found few opportunities to provide their students with actual clinical experience to practise nursing techniques. Often, these courses were taught in sick bays where the patients were ambulatory and therefore the kinds of treatments performed were limited. Rutherford negotiated the logistical problems with ease and, within a few weeks, had the course running smoothly. Dunn admitted that she had many difficulties teaching her first course, in part because of the language difficulty. It was Dunn, however, who urged changing the course to remove those treatments never ordered by the European doctors and to include more emphasis on public health. She also urged that nurses’ aides be given instruction in dispensing simple medicines because they would be doing it with or without the training.56 Only the first two suggestions led to revisions of the field-teaching manuals and were accepted at headquarters. While the nursing leadership attempted to impose some level of standardized educational requirements, the rank-and-file camp nurses took a more pragmatic approach, focusing on the need to improve nursing knowledge among the displaced-persons nurses in order to prepare them to take over complete responsibilities for the camp’s nursing services. In their leisure hours, they began compiling nursing manuals that were ‘based entirely on practical experience of nursing within Germany’s assembly centres, the composers having little or no reference materials.’57 Their collective experience also highlights the growing sensitivity among Canadians in UNRRA’s nursing brigade to the pitfalls of applying North American standards of nursing in cultural isolation. In the end, the official zone nursing courses still required modifications in light of actual field experience to be more culturally relevant and sustainable after UNRRA’s Class I nurses departed. While individual UNRRA nurses within the American Zone gave refresher courses to graduate nurses and six-week courses for nurses’ aides, nursing instruction on a zonal basis had a late start there. In fact, the first full-time instructor in the American Zone was appointed only in April 1947.58 Taylor attributed the delay to the fact that there were not as many full-time instructors as there were in the British Zone. Another reason was that she had not been able to devote as much time as she would have liked to the program as a result of being absent from the office for over a month following a serious car accident on 18 February 1947. In her efforts to expand the nursing-education program, Tay-

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lor relied upon fellow Canadian nurses who had excellent nursing credentials and a proven track record. District Nurse Helen Murphy certainly qualified. She had exceptional skills, speaking French, Spanish, and German, and had taken graduate studies in administration and supervision at Wayne State University in Detroit after completing her public-health training at the Royal Victoria Hospital. She had subsequently been appointed a teaching supervisor at Grace Hospital in Detroit.59 In the American Zone, during the spring of 1947, Murphy provided a two-day refresher course for all displaced-persons graduate nurses, Class II, within her district who would take over the administration and running of the camp’s medical facilities when UNRRA withdrew. Her plan became the model for other UNRRA area teams’ nursing-orientation programs.60 The late start to the nursing-education program further complicated efforts to attract qualified students. As the number of Class I UNRRA nurses was reduced in preparation for handing over the camps to the IRO, the Class II nurses assumed their duties. Hence, it was increasingly difficult to release them from their current nursing assignments to take the courses. Moreover, not all of the Canadian UNRRA nurses who set up training courses for nurses’ aides in the American Zone found their initiatives well received. The very fact that the nursing-education program took so long to get started in the American Zone allowed it to fall prey to the changing mood within the camps, where attention was increasingly focused more on repatriation than on rehabilitation. Thus, Taylor, while visiting with Olga Friesen in Bamberg, reported that she appears ‘to be settling down after her removal from Coburg and doing a good job’ in teaching a class of thirteen nurses’ aides. When Friesen, a graduate in public health from the University of Toronto, had tried to start a similar course in Coburg, she found herself ‘the victim of idle gossip’ – being labelled as anti-repatriation!61 A naturalized Canadian citizen, Friesen had been born in Russia and spoke Russian fluently, perhaps leaving herself open to being viewed as too sympathetic to those Russians who did not want to repatriate. On the whole, the relationship between UNRRA nurses of different nationalities was good. A significant clash centring on professional ethics, however, unexpectedly emerged between Anglo-American-trained nurses and those among the displaced-persons community. When it became apparent that the level of animosity was negatively affecting the delivery of nursing services, much time had to be devoted to overcoming the real reluctance among Class II nurses to work with people

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of other nationalities. Canadian UNRRA nurses shared the view that ‘nursing is an international work, and the care of the sick and maintenance of nursing services is a duty which must be done regardless of the nationality to be cared for or persons doing the job.’62 The nursing-education programs suffered a better fate than other longer-term training programs within UNRRA’s assembly centres which were cancelled altogether on the grounds that they were discouraging repatriation. (At least within the British Zone, nurses’ aides courses were in fact opened for Polish students as a way of postponing or avoiding unwanted repatriation.63) In more general terms, it is difficult to evaluate the long-term impact that UNRRA’s medical-training programs had on raising national nursing standards within the liberated countries back to pre-war levels. Many of those in Germany who received nursing training would not return to their country of origin as originally expected but would instead take their skills to their new homeland. The benefit for the women enrolled in these educational programs went far beyond the nursing skills they gained. Taylor and Creelman both emphasized the rehabilitation benefits of the nursingeducation programs.64As Creelman’s successor described the nursing instructors in the British Zone, ‘they were all first class personnel, having the welfare of their students at heart, teaching them, living with them, looking after their welfare.’ The young graduates emerged from the refresher course for nurses with a much altered attitude towards life; ‘they had developed community spirit, improved in manners and deportment and sense of responsibility.’65 These nurses, Taylor similarly observed, ‘have done an excellent piece of work. The wearing of the UNRRA uniform has given them a certain amount of prestige and authority in carrying out their jobs.’66 Moreover, Canadian UNRRA nursing educators’ attitudes should be set within the organization’s broader rehabilitation mandate of ‘helping people to help themselves’ towards economic self-sufficiency and self-government after years of being subjected to Nazi tyranny. Other UNRRA initiatives also assisted women to regain their professional identity. Both Creelman and Taylor participated in the establishment of the credentialization program which would later be taken over by the World Health Organization. It provided a process for the thousands of nurses among the displaced-persons population, who lacked formal proof of their previous training but who had received training under UNRRA’s program, to become internationally accredited. This was an important step that helped women to recover the personal and

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professional identity that they had lost when they were forced to abandon their homelands without any documentation. As with other UNRRA educational programs and experiments in camp self-government, nursing training and accreditation were important stages in the progression of individuals from concentration-camp victims to productive and democratically minded citizens. For nurses in the field, by contrast, the needs of working women were more immediate; skills to earn a living wage became one of the few survival strategies for those displaced persons faced with an uncertain future. Nursing beyond the Bedside Any comprehensive portrayal of the lives of Canadian UNRRA nurses must include an examination of their daily work world. These nurses had to adapt public-health nursing practices and hospital routines to help patients from different backgrounds and with different life experiences recover their health and human dignity after years of unimaginable suffering. Whatever their expectations of the physical hardship or cultural adaptation that would be required, however, few expected that they would have to work hard to gain their patients’ trust. In Germany, even a simple act of wanting to provide separate care for nursing mothers, whose children had ‘frightful diarrhoea’ because there had been no diaper distribution during the several-day trip to the camp, left one Canadian UNRRA nurse feeling like the adversary not the healer. Similarly, fathers who had survived Hitler’s concentration camps were reluctant to have a military-looking UNRRA nurse separate them from their wives and babies yet again.67 Other Canadian nurses in the field found that the threat to withdraw UNRRA food rations from those who refused to undergo the mandatory DDT spraying or VD check-ups proved futile. For a people who faced annihilation on a daily basis in the concentration camp if they disobeyed orders, what would having a ration card removed mean? They would eat anyway. After hearing Canadian nurses’ accounts of their dealing with these patients, Chief Nurse Rutherford astutely remarked, ‘these people are alive to-day simply because of their wits, they have special psychology, very difficult to deal with.’68 And all such nursing challenges were compounded when the treatment of the Jewish concentration-camp survivors became highly politicized in the wake of the scathing Harrison report. As Eisenhower’s special representative, Earl G. Harrison, dean of the University of Pennsylvania Law School, former commissioner of immigra-

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tion, and American envoy to the Inter-Governmental Committee on Refugees, had sharply criticized the army’s treatment of the displaced Jewish people in the camps. Nowhere were the tensions among the patients more strained or under more public scrutiny than at Belsen Hospital, later renamed Glynn Hughes Hospital. Nursing the survivors of the concentration camps required enormous compassion and adaptability. Inmates from the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp were disinfected with DDT, scrubbed in a ‘human laundry,’ and evacuated from the typhus-ridden ‘Horror Camp’ to a hospital organized in the barracks of the Panzer Training School. There they came under the supervision of Matron Muriel Knox Doherty, a well-respected and experienced Australian nurse who ‘ran the hospital for the maimed in body and soul without orders.’69 Her letters back home capture the quandary of many nurses as they relied on the ‘enemy’ to provide essential nursing and medical services for concentration-camp survivors. Doherty complained about the lack of support she received from either headquarters or Chief Nurse Creelman: ‘The Head burst in today; her visits are never very satisfactory, always in too much of a hurry to give one a chance to discuss problems. Things must be pretty serious, I think, as UNRRA’s plans have been changed and an agreement is to be signed with the Army next week.’70 Perhaps the personal tension reflected in part the inevitable differences in administrative responsibilities. Doherty focused on the nursing needs of Belsen Hospital and, in Creelman’s opinion, ‘worried too much about small details.’71 Conversely, Creelman was acutely aware that, in order to find additional staff for Belsen Hospital, she had to pull UNRRA nurses, like Janet Vanderwell, from the field and thereby leave teams understaffed until additional nurses arrived.72 But, more fundamentally, Creelman believed that Belsen was adequately staffed. As she told her fellow Canadian nurses, ‘this hospital had a greater number of nurses per patient and greater proportion of qualified nurses to unqualified nurses than any other hospital I visited in Germany.’73 Despite the considerable public pressure surrounding staffing at Belsen, as UNRRA nurses left to take up other assignments, they were not replaced. Creelman had made her own assessment of the overall nursing requirements with the British Zone. While staffing remained a contentious issue throughout Belsen Hospital’s history, the real root of the ongoing dispute between Doherty and Creelman centred on the decision to continue using the German nursing staff to care for Jewish patients. It had been a condition of the

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hospital’s transfer to UNRRA that the German medical staff should be retained there and that UNRRA nurses would act only in a supervisory capacity. Belsen earned, in Creelman’s opinion, an undeserved notoriety for continuing to use German nurses to care for the concentrationcamp survivors. In retrospect, Creelman could find ‘a word of praise for these German nurses, who gave excellent nursing care to the displaced persons under conditions which at times were most humiliating and most difficult ... The very fact that it was the first large UNRRA responsibility made it necessary to maintain the highest possible standard under existing conditions.’74 In contrast, Doherty never overcame her disdain for what she regarded as the inattentive medical care of the German staff. As a consequence, for example, she took the unusual step of ensuring that her trusty Canadian, Janet Vanderwell, was present in the operating theatre to supervise the German doctor whom she neither liked nor trusted.75 More significantly, on ethical grounds, Doherty could not reconcile herself to the German nurses, who had been trained ‘to accept the shocking treatment meted out to the foreign slave workers imported by the Nazis as part of this policy.’76 Every day on their rounds through the wards, the six Canadians on the Belsen nursing staff were reminded of Nazi cruelty whenever they looked at the faces of their patients. Nursing in this atmosphere would have been difficult for the Canadians and others on the hospital staff, all of whom had spent a day at the trials of Nazi war criminals and regularly saw members of the Belsen German nursing staff carted off to prison for Nazi activities. But their sense of professionalism required that, whatever their feeling towards the German nursing staff, they would have to keep their emotions in check if they were to do their best for their patients. Doherty predicted that her newly assigned nursing staff would not be prepared for what awaited them. Upon their arrival, the Canadian nurses walked into wards where ‘untidy, masses of clothing cluttered the beds ... There was gross but unavoidable overcrowding and little classification or segregation of patients. Advanced cases of pulmonary Tb were nursed side by side with non-Tb cases. Old tins – jam dishes and jars (the majority without lids) – were used as sputum mugs and no apparent disinfection or sterilization was carried out. Large numbers of flies were seen in the wards, in the kitchen, swarming over uncovered food and helpless patients.’77 Even with the improvements made in the administration of Belsen Hospital, nursing practices never conformed to normal hospital routines. Doherty was continually irritated by the

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German nurses’ absenteeism and their failure to record or control the use of dangerous drugs. As the Canadian nurses discovered, concentration-camp survivors were unique patients. On one hand, they needed specialized care and constant attention and reassurance; on the other, their survival within the Nazi death camps had forged resilience and wilfulness. Vanderwell, for example, noted in a letter to Libbie Rutherford that the Belsen survivors were not what she expected. ‘The people we are dealing with are quite remarkable. There is not the atmosphere of gloom here that one would expect to find, although in the hospital we still have many incurable cases.’78 Having tasted freedom at long last, the Belsen patients did not easily conform to regulations. Doherty’s accounts make it clear that attempts to secure compliance with even the simplest rules of patient conduct or health-care routines proved futile: ‘Patients admitted and discharged themselves – and still do! We had numbers who returned several times from the Camp to our nice comfortable hospital with ... freedom to sleep in the fields all night or bring their friends home to bed as they desired. Some acute Tbs still wander in their pyjamas in the wet – they like it – they have been used to it for so long and this freedom means so much to them.’79 When Vanderwell or Doherty’s assistant, Louise Bartsch, attempted to impose some order onto the nursing routines, they were ‘answered with the ever repeated refusal: “We are not living in a concentration camp any more.”’80 Bartsch was forced to take over the keys to the linen closet to curb patients from pilfering the supplies for crafts. The casual onlooker would probably have been ‘repelled by the unfamiliar and strange feature of this hospital comparing it with the usual picture of a hospital.’81 Imagine the visitor who dropped in to find a dance among active TB cases and surgical patients in progress in the corridor halls or extremely stinky cheese bags festering by the patients’ bedsides! But allowing these kinds of things had immense importance in helping patients recover their culture and health. On her first visit to Belsen, Creelman displayed considerable sensitivity to the need to balance good nursing standards with respect for individual cultural differences and appreciation of wartime tragedies, which had left deep psychological scars. Conditions within the maternity hospital, she confided to her diary, were not nearly as deplorable as she had been led to believe: ‘The trouble is that people expect modern standards. True the babies were in the same room as their mothers, were wrapped in too many clothes but those are the custom of the peo-

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ple. Also the Romanian woman Dr. took the babies in her arms and loved them, but perhaps that is not as bad as we think ... She was forced to kill some 5,000 babies at A—? The terrible horror camp. After coming through such an experience one could hardly expect her to be normal.’82 The Belsen hospital staff, however, struggled with the profound cultural differences towards maternal and child health care, tending to view them as another example of unruly patient behaviour. Much valuable staff time was absorbed in persuading visitors to stick to the visiting hours and stay away from the maternity wards.83 Here as elsewhere, the nursing staff had the added complication of dealing with mixed nationalities; the dislike between the Poles and the Jews was surpassed only by their mutual hatred of the German staff. UNRRA medical personnel often found themselves in the unenviable position of acting as umpire among national groups. The chief of the medical staff believed that ‘many a worker who had spent several months in Glynn Hughes Hospital will recall that time with the moribund love of a lover who cannot forgive or forget but who understands.’84 Daily nursing routines were punctuated by constant interruptions, which often led many to become frustrated with the thankless task of caring for intractable patients – people who had suffered unimaginable horrors and who, still facing an uncertain future, grasped what happiness they could. Among the six Canadian nurses on Belsen’s staff, most coped and provided valuable service until they were moved to other assignments, but, for unidentified reasons, Bartsch, much to Creelman’s regret, felt unable to stay. Defining Personal and Professional Space: Beatrice Roberts While serving with UNRRA on the front lines, most Canadian nurses became adept at meeting the challenges of medical-relief work in the wake of the armies. But they remained, after all, young women far away from home and friends, some for close to three years. How did they fare as women forging new frontiers in international nursing? Unlike UNRRA’s missions in the liberated countries, the German civilian population regarded the UNRRA staff with the same open hostility exhibited towards the conquering armies. Moreover, social tension and distrust were reinforced, at least initially, by the ban on fraternization with the German population. In these conditions, surviving in the field meant forging new friendships often outside the narrow social circles in which these Canadian women would normally have

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travelled back home. What made their lives tolerable at Belsen and elsewhere was the sense of camaraderie forged in the belief that their presence made a difference. Many nurses coped by compartmentalizing their lives; they clung tenaciously to distant friendships to inject some sanity and emotional balance into their surreal existence. Letters home and to other Canadians were the vital lifeline, a typical example being Vanderwell’s correspondence with Libbie Rutherford At the same time, whenever time and transportation would permit, Canadian UNRRA nurses, like other Canadian UNRRAIDS, went to incredible lengths to get together to share experiences and shed the images of the desperate people with whom they dealt on a daily basis. Their diaries and letters indicate that many enjoyed being the centre of flirtatious attention at army dances and in the officers’ clubs; others attempted to carve out conventional social relationships with Allied officers or with men they had met within the displaced-persons camps. The experiences recorded in the private memoir of one young Canadian nurse in the American Zone, Beatrice Roberts, reflect the diversity of coping strategies that Canadian nurses developed to reconcile their professional and private lives. As Roberts found, nursing with UNRRA at Dillingen changed private lives and challenged professional ethics. On paper, Beatrice Roberts was well prepared. A graduate of the Wellesley Hospital and the School of Nursing of the University of Toronto, she had served with the Port Arthur Board of Health before enlisting as a nursing sister immediately prior to her UNRRA appointment as a hospital supervisor in the American Zone. Yet she, too, admitted in an early letter to Rutherford that being responsible for the health of six thousand Polish and Lithuanian displaced persons dwelling in five camps at Dillingen ‘was all very confusing at first’ – and discouraging.85 After the first week, I ‘would have taken the first truck, boat or plane back to Canada.’86 She found the nursery facilities totally inadequate and ‘right next to the nursery there is a girl of ten dying of tuberculosis.’ In the Polish camp, conditions in the infirmary manned by midwives were ‘not good. In fact they are terrible.’87 In the two camp dispensaries, no one could speak English and all the medicines were labelled in German. While at first she was uncertain ‘how to go about changing it,’ she quickly realized that the ‘first thing I must get is a good interpreter and not a man.’ Yet the language barrier was only one factor contributing to her profound sense of cultural isolation. Her sense of uneasiness about living and working in Nazi Germany

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resounds throughout her personal memoir of her time at Dillingen. Her first encounter with Von Roessler, the chief doctor of the German civilian hospital in Lauengen, illustrates how ill at ease she felt: the German medical staff ‘stood glaring, looking at me as if I were a rare specimen.’ She began to feel ‘a little uncomfortable, especially when he closed the door. I suppose it was silly to feel that way, but it was my first contact with the Germans and I had read so many reports of all their scientific experiments.’88 During her stay, stories of the atrocities experienced by those under her care only further reinforced her generally negative view of the German people. Roberts’s spirits lifted when she learned that the American military authorities had made arrangements for their medical team to take over a well-equipped German military hospital complete with its former nursing staff of German nuns. Soon she was busy overseeing the renovations needed to accommodate the combination nursery and children’s infirmary. Since the hospital payroll was separate from the camp’s, with the bill being picked up the German taxpayer, she had no qualms about drawing freely on local labour to get the renovations completed quickly. By mid-September, she could report that her obstetrical and children’s departments, with their white woodwork, robinegg-blue walls, and ‘little blankets on the cots to match the walls,’89 were ready. She had even arranged to have a Latvian artist paint pictures of nursery rhymes and fairy tales on the walls. Beatrice, in short, tried to cope by recreating the Canadian-style hospital environment with which she was familiar. The supervising doctor from UNRRA headquarters was impressed enough with the Dillingen medical team’s efforts (‘it was the best that he had seen’) that he wanted them to run a second hospital in Augsburg. Roberts’s initial reaction to the proposal was mixed: ‘I am not very happy about it all. The atmosphere is not friendly like the Dillingen hospital. The people seemed to resent us. It does mean a promotion for me, however, but there is going to be considerable traveling for both of us to do.’90 Her guarded attitude towards her work at Augsburg Hospital remained unchanged over time: ‘There are too many Germans on staff for another thing. They always seem to annoy me. In Dillingen, people carried out orders cheerfully but here there are thousands of reasons why the simplest things shouldn’t be done and then it is always days before anything is accomplished.’91 Augsburg Hospital remained ‘a discouraging place to work’ and got ‘out of control too easily.’ It needed ‘a firm hand and constant supervision which of course is

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impossible with the Doc and me dividing our attention between the two places.’92 Roberts’s first attempt to improve supervision of the hospital almost proved disastrous. She had requested that the head nurse, Frau Oberin, who was ‘far too old and disinterested,’ be replaced with a more responsible nun to supervise the nursing during her absence: The Doc and I fought about it all day Sunday until my head ached ... The Doc came back from Augsburg on Saturday to inform me that all the nuns were leaving, that it was all my fault and what was I going to do for nurses and workers for the kitchens and laundry as well. Monday afternoon I had a little meeting with the General Secretary and two Ober Frau Oberins from the Mutterhaus. We were all very polite but they were very determined to remove every nun. It kept me busy thinking up nice speeches for Mrs. Gulbis to say and compliments on both sides were flying thick and fast. However, I agreed to release the nuns when and if I could get suitable replacements and hinted that the Military Government would never allow all the nuns to be removed at once. I did get them to promise I could have one of the nuns to supervise the nursing for me and one with whom I am quite satisfied. I hope by the time I get to let enough go that would make an appreciable difference, I will be away home in Canada.

The encounter with the general secretary and two Ober Frau Oberins indicated that Roberts was quickly acquiring the negotiating skills required of a successful administrator, capable of taking difficult decisions to improve nursing services within the hospital and determined to establish her authority in respect to the nursing services. In part, Roberts found the ‘two hospital’ arrangement unsatisfactory because it meant ‘we never do a proper job in either place.’ She despaired of ever having the Dillingen hospital ‘the way it was last fall again.’ Her Class II UNRRA nurses aides, for example, were becoming ‘saucy’ and showing no pride and care about their appearance: she found ‘them running around with aprons over coloured dresses and no capes,’ complaining that the ‘brown uniforms were too hot.’ She had caught the German nurses feeding their relatives on the wards while ‘absolute pandemonium raged in the obstetrical department.’93 Her attempt to replicate the orderly hospital routines with which she was familiar encountered increasing resistance as a growing level of despondency descended on the camps during UNRRA’s final phase. It was

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apparent from her personal journals that both her own and her staff’s earlier enthusiasm for their work was waning. Since she had heard the rumours that this hospital was closing in a month, she found herself only ‘half-heartedly’ working on the six-week training course for nurse’s aides that she was organizing. Roberts was experiencing the mood change within UNRRA’s camps that other Canadian welfare workers had observed. The behaviour of the displaced persons, who languished in the camps while living with the uncertainty of their own future and the knowledge that UNRRA would soon be wound up, changed. Residents within Roberts’s camp were being segregated and shifted around to encourage repatriation, which only added to the underground currents of discontent brewing, making it more difficult to motivate those remaining to work or improve their living surroundings. While the decision to hand Augsburg Hospital over to another team was a welcome relief, Roberts’s journal records the personal roots of her growing restlessness: ‘The Doc is resigning and leaving in a month. I feel that I have been here long enough and would like to go too. The Military are screening the DP.s and there seems to be uproar in most of the camps. The people have lived all winter with a feeling of security and now no one knows what is going to happen, rumours fly thick and fast ... People come to me for help but what can I do. I feel almost as unsettled and concerned about the future as they do. True, I will eventually be able to return to my country but what will happen in the meantime?’94 Her personal circumstances had also changed. In marrying Mietek Warmski, a Polish liaison officer whose political allegiance lay with the old Polish government-in-exile, she automatically relinquished her Canadian citizenship because she was a woman (this archaic law was about to be repealed). But on her wedding day she believed that she had received the best present possible from the Canadian government – a letter granting her permission to return to Canada with her Polish husband. At the time, it had sounded straightforward; the newly married couple would simply have to present themselves to the Canadian immigration office when it opened on the continent. That was the problem, however; with time running out, the immigration offices still had not appeared in Germany. By 25 July 1946, unable to stand the uncertainty any longer, she telephoned the Canadian mission in Berlin to see why her letter remained unanswered, only to learn that ‘he could do nothing for us, that we would have to wait until the immigration offices were open, which might be some time yet and concluded our conversa-

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tion by reminding me that that I had lost my Canadian citizenship.’ She was furious, especially because the Canadian government ‘hadn’t taken that attitude and another thing that made me mad was his very English voice. It isn’t that I don’t like the English ... But why wasn’t it a Canadian who was dealing with Canadian affairs?’95 Learning that there was a Canadian embassy in Paris, Roberts set off, determined not to ‘sit around and do nothing about it. I think I like a good fight, or rather a good fight that is stimulating. I love it when I get my own way and talk people into doing things they really don’t have to.’96 Two and half days later, through a combination of determination, flirtation, sheer audacity, and good luck, she cajoled both the Canadian and Polish government immigration authorities ‘to get her own way.’ Her UNRRA team was ‘flabbergasted’ when she returned from Paris with her Canadian passport reinstated and permission to take her new husband to England where they could then apply for landed immigration status. When pressed by her old friends to know ‘how did you do it, Bee?’ She replied that it was really quite simple: ‘All I did was tell everybody that I was going to have a baby and I wanted to go home.’97 There would be mixed feelings as Beatrice and Mietek left Dillingen. They regretted having to leave behind his Polish friends, whose future remained undecided. And there was sadness knowing that the hospital would close, making her nurses’ futures all the more uncertain. But the guilt and regret were intermingled with happier memories of her travel excursions in Germany and through France, of weekend ski trips with her fellow team members and Mietek, of delightful evening concerts in the Polish and Lithuanian camps, and of Polish celebrations when perhaps too much alcohol was consumed. Most of all she would remember the sunlit March day when, feeling like a ‘village princess,’ she was married in a flower-filled church that was filled to capacity. She had been both touched and surprised by all the clandestine preparations for her wedding day among the Polish community. After the regal ceremony, the couple were showered with lovely handmade gifts and feted at a magnificent reception, complete with a three-tiered wedding cake. Quite fittingly, the symbol of the friendship offered within the Polish community and of her new life was a gift from a friend of her husband who, now a widower, had given the young couple his own wedding ring, which was large enough to make both of theirs. Beatrice could now reflect: ‘I think my life at the moment is better than a soap opera on the radio. Everything is provided, intrigue, mystery, love, travel, adventure.’98

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There had been more than a change in her marital status during her time at Dillingen. The young, somewhat naive young Canadian woman, who trembled during her first meeting with a German doctor and who been unsure of how to proceed, had competently run two hospitals as well as supervising nursing activities in five camps. She never developed a comfortable working relationship with the local German officials and continued ‘to feel the Germans were trying to put something over me.’99 She did, however, establish a close and mutually respectful professional relationship with the medical staff chosen from among the displaced persons. Equally, she had a close personal friendship and professional partnership with ‘Doc,’ who warned her husband: ‘When Bee gets mad and stamps her feet, just retire, there is nothing more you can do.’100 Beatrice would no longer tolerate being treated as a ‘handmaiden’ by anyone. She had expanded her professional role well beyond anything she had previously done, coping all the while by attempting as far as possible to recreate the conventional professional and personal milieu in which she traditionally had felt at ease. Conclusion In Germany as elsewhere, nursing with UNRRA demanded that Canadian nurses demonstrate courage, adaptability, and fortitude. The nursing assignment in that country, however, had the added complication of working with concentration-camp victims in an occupied country, where they and UNRRA were often regarded as unwanted interlopers. The array of coping mechanisms that Canadian UNRRA nurses developed to reconcile their private and professional lives to these unpredictable and demanding conditions reflected their former nursing experience, diverse personalities, and varied practice settings. Those who were most successful developed nursing programs that were cognizant of the cultural differences and logistical constraints of working for a temporary international organization that served a highly transitory displaced population. The available evidence suggests that the majority of Canadians nursing with UNRRA in Germany adjusted and were held in high regard by their fellow health professionals. Indeed, other Canadian nurses besides Beatrice Roberts gained recognition for their supervisory work in UNRRA hospitals. Mannheim Displaced Persons Hospital was signalled out as being especially well run under the direction of a Belgium physician, ‘who was very ably aided’101 by

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Helen Murphy. In some respects it was to be expected that the wellqualified and experienced nurse Murphy would prove a capable hospital administrator. But what was unusual is that she is the only nurse singled out by name for her contribution in the Medical Division’s final report prepared for UNRRA’s official history. Field supervisors were overwhelmingly favourable in their reports of Canadian nurses’ activities and initiatives as team nurses. Edna Osborne, Norena Mackenzie, and Madeline Taylor received field promotions in recognition of their outstanding performance. The ERO’s chief nurse, Florence Udell, acknowledged Creelman’s contribution to the development of an effective nursing program in the British Zone and tried to persuade her to accept another assignment in the China mission.102 As Janet Vanderwell had claimed in her letter to Libbie Rutherford, it seemed that the Canadians were making a ‘good show.’ The overwhelming majority of Canadian nurses were well-educated and experienced nurses, and their prior nursing experience proved more useful preparation than the theoretical training received at the UNRRA training centre. The overwhelming majority had post-secondary university education and most had either additional credentials as ex-army nurses or further training in industrial, psychiatric, or publichealth nursing, teaching, or hospital supervision. Their previous experience in public-health nursing gave them the ability to assess independently the medical needs of the displaced-persons population in the assembly centres and to determine the steps required to get a makeshift hospital up and running without the customary health infrastructure. In fact, their collective Canadian nursing experience was superior to that of European-trained nurses. According to Taylor, many European nurses had only hospital experience and were simply overwhelmed: ‘There were no nice well equipped hospitals, hardly any accommodation, little or no medical supplies and busy Army doctors, whose only knowledge of nurses was based on the Military nursing service. The result was she either did nothing or left.’ Furthermore, the European nurses were often ill-equipped in other respects as well: their UNRRA issue of uniform was poor and ‘they usually had little or no suitable underclothing and no means by which to get any. Apart from hindering their work it was difficult also for recreation, as by their appearance they were not accepted as Officers by the British Army.’103 Similar considerations led Creelman to declare that many European nurses were among the first sent home.104 UNRRA’s Canadian nurses not only were far better trained and equipped than many of the European nurses, but

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a surprising number spoke several languages. Irrespective of their educational advantage, however, they still found the work challenging. Work in the field refined these women’s professional understanding of what was required to convey nursing knowledge in a manner that was culturally relevant and sustainable. As Creelman acknowledged, it took time to abandon the tendency simply to do the job themselves rather than reaching out to build competency within the displaced-persons community. Yet, gradually, some Canadian UNRRA nurses began to adapt programs and nurses’ practices in line with the culture and training of those they had come to assist. While the nursing leadership looked to longer-term professional advancement of nurses from the displaced-persons community through standardized educational programs that would lead to international accreditation, the field nurses were focused on more immediate concerns. As nursing educators, their goal was to rehabilitate both the woman and the nurse so that they could earn a living wage and conform to the accepted social norms of nursing as a respectable profession. Their role in helping women victims of war to rebuild their shattered personal and professional lives was an intensely personal experience that equally broadened their own personal and professional outlook.

10 The Bridge of Sorrows: The Canadian China Contingent

For UNRRA, no mission was more challenging than that of China, which not only had suffered greatly as a result of the Japanese invasion but had also been embroiled in a civil war for two decades. The upheaval had begun in 1926 with the takeover of the Nationalist or Kuomintang Party (KMT) by the right-wing General Chiang Kai-shek and subsequent purges of leftist and Communist members. At the end of the Second World War, General George Marshall, representing President Truman, arrived to negotiate a ceasefire between the Nationalist Party and the Communist Party of China (CPC). The terms of the ceasefire called for building a coalition government comprised of all of the contending political/military groups in China. But neither the Communists (represented by Chou En-Lai) nor Chiang Kai-shek’s representatives were willing to relinquish control over the territories each had seized in the wake of the Japanese surrender. In fact, the Communists, who controlled wide areas in north and central China, quickly extended their control of Manchuria when the Russians withdrew their forces of occupation. From 1945 to 1949, Communist Party membership swelled as the CCP armies took city after city from the Nationalists. The civil war ended in 1949 with an unofficial cessation of major hostilities, leaving the Communists controlling mainland China and the Nationalists occupying Taiwan, Penghu, and several outlying Fujianese islands. It was soon apparent that the UNRRA’s health program in China would confront insurmountable odds in assisting the Chinese Nationalist Government and private relief organizations to restore the country’s public-health programs and medical facilities to their pre-war levels. That UNRRA’s operations in China would be complicated was expected, but the full magnitude of the task did not become clear until

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after the end of the Japanese occupation in August 1945. Even the earlier estimates, however, exceeded UNRRA’s capacity for assistance in China given its other commitments. There as elsewhere, the Administration underwent severe growing pains: a greater degree organizational stability was achieved only after many administrative shake-ups, including major changes in policy by the Administration and by the Chinese government, along with a succession of operational crises accompanied by a rapid turnover of personnel.1 The formal agreement between UNRRA and the China Office of UNRRA was signed in Chungking on 13 November 1945. UNRRA’s medical programs within China became more convoluted, however, when the Administration was forced to establish separate working arrangements with the rival Nationalist and Communist political factions to administer the organization’s aid programs within the territories under their respective control. The Chinese Nationalist government set up the Chinese National Relief and Rehabilitation Administration (CNRRA) in January 1945 and the Communists countered with the formation of the Communist Liberated Areas Relief Administration (CLARA). Despite the mounting difficulties, both rival organizations continued to operate until UNRRA closed its doors. When UNRRA’s China operations were already in full swing, all of the Administration’s problems were further compounded after V-J Day as the civil war spread throughout the country. The rekindling of outright war between the Kuomintang and the Communist Party of China in the spring of 1946 seriously compromised UNRRA’s ability to deliver, on an impartial basis, the medical supplies upon which its health programs and those of the voluntary organizations working under its umbrella depended. In July 1947, after the Nationalist government informed UNRRA that it could not ensure the safety of its personnel in Communist-held territories, deliveries ceased in these regions. This was an issue that would scar UNRRA’s China program throughout its existence. Even though UNRRA paid special attention to Communist-held areas by treating them separately, in the end deliveries into these areas ‘amounted to only 4 and 5 percent by values of the total UNRRA supply program.’ While there is no doubt that Chinese Nationalists obstructed the timely delivery of medical supplies and services, UNRRA’s official historian contends that, even without civil war, the Communist-held territories would not have received an equal allocation, given the Administration’s policy of emphasizing the delivery of food to famine areas and of industrial-rehabilitation equipment –

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such as power plants, tractors, or tugs – to those areas where it would be most quickly and effectively used. Areas under Communist control ‘had no food shortage except in small local pockets ... nor were they technologically equipped to use much of the heavy equipment brought in under the UNRRA program.’2 Financial prudence dictated that UNRRA would use its scarce resources where the need was greatest and where the equipment could be most quickly and effectively put to work. Moreover, the Medical Division’s proposed $175–million budget was drastically cut in 1947 to $21 million, which further circumscribed the scope of its programs.3 As in other parts of UNRRA’s China program, the Administration’s medical initiatives from November 1944 to its wind-up in November 1947 were hindered by the war-induced shortage of supplies; the uncontrolled inflation of the Chinese currency, which fuelled a dramatic increase in black-market activities in medical equipment and supplies;4 and the lack of adequate medical personnel. The quality of Chinese medical education had declined dramatically during the war, and this was merely a symptom of a broader wartime corrosion of the entire national public-health system. After the war, it was believed that about one-half of the hospitals and field health stations had been either destroyed or looted during the Japanese occupation, and that there was only one trained physician for every 40,000 patients and one nurse for every 75,000 patients. Further, the worldwide shortage of medical personnel made it impossible for UNRRA to meet the Chinese government’s original request to recruit 885 health specialists from abroad. UNRRA could provide only 189 medical staff to cover all of China.5 UNRRA’s medical tasks were compounded by the need to prevent or control epidemic outbreaks among the millions of Chinese driven from their homes whose immunity had been compromised by the ravages of malnutrition and who were now returning without any proper sanitation facilities en route. The war crippled China’s rudimentary sanitation and water-filtration systems while also truncating the efforts to launch public-education initiatives in modern hygiene, and thereby sharply increased the potential for the outbreak of disease among the refugee population. The emergence of cholera, smallpox, and the plague, for the first time in over eighty years, was indicative of the collapse of the Quarantine Service and Public Health Service in the wake of the war.6 UNRRA supported the effective control of epidemics by providing 2,400,000 pounds of DDT for the mobile medical teams and moved quickly to establish water-purification and distillation units to improve

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sanitary facilities.7 The delivery of medical supplies to the interior regions was always complicated but at the beginning appeared impossible. Before the Administration could even begin delivering supplies, the transportation and communication system would have to be rebuilt throughout a vast territory roughly equivalent to the entire area overrun by the Axis powers in Europe. The Canadians and UNRRA’s China Mission Canadians were involved in many ways and at all levels in the efforts to bring medical relief to China. Back home, they played an important role in fund-raising efforts to obtain personnel, medical, and relief supplies for the voluntary agencies and missions that provided vital support for UNRRA’s medical programs in China. In addition, a scattering of Canadian medical personnel served directly with UNRRA as medical administrators, as instructors in UNRRA’s training programs for doctors, nurses, and medical technicians, and as members of hospital staffs or mobile medical teams. Before their arrival in China, few Westerners comprehended the degree of personal and professional adaptation that would be required in doing medical relief work there. Even Helena Reimer, a well-educated and experienced nursing administrator, who had served with UNRRA in Egypt before being assigned to Formosa (Taiwan), shared other Western UNRRAIDS’ shock at the ‘pitiful sights – ragged and dirty children curled up on the streets on little bamboo mats or in tiny sacking pieces, absolutely alone in the world’ and the seemingly callous disregard for human life everywhere they went in China.8 Reimer was joined in her work by a fellow Canadian, Muriel Graham. A graduate of St Francis Xavier University, Antigonish, she had subsequently done her training at the Victoria General Hospital, Halifax, and at the McGill School for Graduate Nurses. For Graham, fresh from the strictly regimented nursing environment of the Canadian Army, the adjustment would be even greater, despite her earlier experience supervising a six-hundred bed hospital and setting up hospitals on the front under canvas.9 Fortunately, Graham would have an experienced Canadian missionary nurse, Hildur Hermanson, and Helena Reimer to lean upon for advice and support. No narrative of Canada’s contribution to UNRRA’s health program in China would be complete without reference to the extraordinary group of twenty Canadians who, as conscientious objectors, volun-

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teered for alternative wartime service with the American section of the China Convoy, a project organized by Quakers both in the United States and Britain through the Friends Ambulance Unit. In 1945 Canadians were approached to form part of the American-sponsored FAU group going to China when it became apparent that the American Friends Society could not obtain the necessary wartime clearances for conscientious objectors to serve overseas in that country. Once in China, the unit joined ranks with the members of the British-based FAU’s China Convoy, who had already made an enviable reputation for themselves in the war.10 By the beginning of 1946, the Canadians comprised only 20 of the 139 members but the unit’s medical chief, Dr Bob McClure, considered that ‘the Canadian boys are the finest lot of new recruits that the FAU has ever received ... It is the comment one hears on every side.’11 (See map 4, page xiv.) In the spring of 1944, while recuperating in Canada from a bout of relapsing fever, McClure spearheaded efforts that had been under way for over a year – primarily under the leadership of Albert Dorland and Fred Haslam, chairman and secretary, respectively, of the Canadian Friends Service Committee – to recruit Canadians for the FAU. Born in China, educated in Canada, McClure had paid his college fees by working as a stevedore and a barber. His celebrated and colourful career as a medical missionary in China began in 1924 when he replaced a United Church missionary doctor who had been murdered by bandits at a hospital in Hwaiking. During his time with the FAU in China, he directed countless convoys of medical supplies over the Burma Road and pioneered mobile field surgeries behind the lines to treat soldiers and civilians alike. When Burma fell to the Japanese and supplies were airlifted over the Himalayas to China, McClure organized local villagers as stretcher bearers for downed air crews. On a number of occasions, he parachuted from rescue planes to treat the injured airmen before they were carried by the local tribesmen to field hospitals. When he was invited to lead the British-based FAU unit, McClure was described for the benefit of the British members as a ‘a stalwart, sandy, bullet-headed Canadian Scot, with the energy of a whirlwind and the high spirits of a sixteen-year-old boy’ who ‘wore a leather blouse, riding breeches and knee boots with straps.’12 While back in Canada in 1944, he proved an inspirational recruiter as well as publicist for the work of the FAU in China, ‘telling of a unit that offered opportunity for adventure, danger and service that was in line with the most demanding conscience.’13 He was also instrumental in overcoming

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what was proving a major hurdle – the reluctance of the deputy minister of labour, Arthur McNamara, to issue the necessary permits to release the men from alternative service and, more significantly, to allow any nurses to leave Canada during wartime. Coyly, McClure argued that two nurses being sent now ‘over and above the call of duty’ would do more to redress Canada’s tarnished international image in China – for having sold Japan strategic war materiel – than ten nurses sent at a later date ‘under some government appointment.’ Even when Ottawa’s approval had been obtained, ‘the Government carefully demanded secrecy in order to avoid public attention and possible discussion of this pacifist endeavour.’14 It would be well over a year before those Canadians who answered McClure’s call would arrive in China to begin their work. Once there, the Canadian members of the FAU soon discovered that ‘whirlwind’ was an appropriate description of their boss. Yet it was also recognized that McClure was a more able emergency medical-relief practitioner than business administrator, and everybody, including McClure, was grateful when he was relieved of his administrative responsibilities but continued as the medical director of the China Convoy. For one of only two Canadian women in the FAU’s China Convoy, the road from nursing school at the University of Toronto to Wei Tien Hospital in Kutsing, China, was to set the course for her future life. Harriet Brown had first heard of the Canadian Society of Friends’ efforts to recruit volunteers for service in China from her roommate, whose fiancé, Gordon Keith, had served with the FAU in China from 1941 to 1943. She had already supported her older brother’s decision to take a stand against war as a conscientious objector and was therefore amenable to the idea of service to heal the wounds of war. By the time of her departure, she had become engaged to one of the young Canadian recruits, Walter Alexander. After a short stint at Montreal River in a northern work camp as alternative wartime service, he had obtained a job at the Connaught Laboratory, doing blood-serum separation. It was at the camp, however, that he heard of the unit forming to go to China. But marriage, they were informed, was out of the question. Brown recalled that the FAU expected them to remain single and unfettered, ‘ready to be dispatched with just the knapsack on their backs wherever necessary.’15 After the Japanese surrendered, FAU officials seemed to have had a change of heart, however. The young couple received separate letters instructing them to proceed to Kutsing, where in January 1946 they were married by a fellow FAU member. Brown

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witnessed every aspect of the China Convoy’s members’ struggle to reconcile their individual spiritual journeys with the gruesome reality of medical-relief work in China. Observations by FAU members at the grassroots were complemented by those of their medical chief, Bob McClure, and Albert Dorland. Dorland was seconded from the FAU to become the executive secretary of the Canadian Advisory Committee, an administrative body in Chungking representing both the Canadian Red Cross and the Canadian Chinese War Relief Fund, a Canadian charitable organization formed in 1941 to aid Chinese resistance to Japanese aggression most notably through its support of orphanages and hospitals. The Canadian Advisory Committee handled the disbursement of all the funds raised by the China War Relief Fund and the distribution of supplies donated by the Canadian Red Cross. Both Dorland and McClure had close contact with officials of most of the other voluntary relief organizations in China, embassy staffs, and the leading political and military figures of the day, like Chou En-Lai and Mme Sun Yat-Sen, and Mme Chiang Kaishek. Their positions and extensive travels throughout China provided an excellent vantage point, as Dorland put it, ‘to get a sort of inside picture as to what is going on, and watch “History as she is Made” with all its intrigues, striving for power, clashing of personalities etc.’16 The stories of Helena Reimer, Muriel Graham, and the Canadians serving with the China Convoy enrich our understanding of what Canadian medical personnel faced in trying to build medical-relief programs over a vast geographical area, with only a handful of trained personnel and pitifully inadequate transportation and communication systems. They also illustrate how the changing economic and political landscape impeded UNRRA’s work in China. The Road to Honan Although the members of the FAU’s China Convoy were selected by the Canadian Friends Service Committee in Toronto, they were not all Quakers. But all were conscientious objectors, who, for their work with the China Convoy, received only $5 a month pocket money. Harriet Brown captured the spirit that motivated many to sign up for two years’ service aboard. Speaking of her future husband, Walter Alexander, she said: ‘Walter was determined to find a way of living which would do away with the causes of war; he was seeking a brotherly community.’17 After graduating from college, Alexander had had a job for

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several years helping people in rural areas to work together; this experience had dispelled the idea that ‘the world could be changed by some kind of social order’ without spirituality.18 For others, the decision to join the FAU was part of a longer voyage of seeking a more meaningful spiritual life, which had not yet but would eventually embrace the Quaker faith and a communal lifestyle. For some, like Wilfred (‘Wilf’) Howarth, serving with the FAU helped remove the social stigma associated with refusing to bear arms for his country. The young Canadian was mindful that it was his widowed mother who bore the brunt of social contempt in her small Ontario hometown when he was banished to the work camps in Canada’s far north.19 Others, like Ed Abbott, who, as a third-year medical student, had been expelled from the University of Toronto when he registered as a conscientious objector, welcomed an opportunity for service that would allow him to use his medical skills, which were becoming rusty in the northern work camps. For many, in fact, work with the FAU represented an opportunity for more worthwhile service than their current alternative war service offered. These young Canadians had risked their freedom, social reputations, and futures for their pacifist beliefs. China would test those convictions. After what seemed an interminable delay, the first ten members of the team left Toronto in September 1944 and the second group followed in January 1945 to begin their training in Philadelphia at the small Quaker University at Pendle Hill. Their time there was followed by an additional briefing at UNRRA’s Maryland training centre. The Canadians derived greater benefit from the training received at Pendle Hill than most other UNRRAIDS had at Maryland. ‘Old China Hands,’ with extensive and recent first- hand experience in doing medical relief work in China, such as Ken Bennett, gave detailed briefing sessions on Chinese language and customs and the FAU’s work in the country. Moreover, the Canadian recruits received more specialized training for their specific jobs in China. Theoretically, the FAU’s China Convoy had two separate divisions – transport and medical. The Canadians were assigned to either the transport division or the medical section, which supplied doctors and nurses and laboratory technicians to support the work of the hospitals, clinics, and mobile medical teams which met emergency situations and provided primitive medical care to the poverty-stricken civilians and soldiers on both sides of the conflict. Those assigned to the transport section got instruction in mechanics so that they could repair trucks that broke down on the isolated roads. Medical technicians were sent to General Electric to learn how to maintain X-ray

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equipment. As preparation for the primitive medical conditions that awaited in China, Al Dobson, among others, volunteered for a month at a mental hospital for violent and incontinent patients. ‘Seeing hundreds of men jabbering incoherently, lying stupidly staring’20 profoundly shocked one member and caused another to comment: ‘It was more like a cross between a prison and a zoo, than what a hospital should be like.’21 In practice, the situation in China was so fluid and desperate that the lines between the medical and transport divisions were blurred. FAU’s medical staff drove trucks and became jacks of all trades, even maintaining generators and X-ray equipment. Many members of the transport division provided nursing and medical services well beyond their formal medical training. The chaotic circumstances combined with the humble and strongly egalitarian spirit of the FAU membership tended to break down the traditional medical hierarchy. Symptomatic of the fluid informal relationships that sustained the FAU efforts in China was the fact that, before their departure, the Canadian members of the China Convoy wore a distinctive Canadian Red Cross uniform and were separately funded by both the Canadian Chinese Relief Fund and the Canadian Red Cross. On their arrival in China, however, they were folded into existing international FAU field teams working in close association with UNRRA and the British Red Cross. As space became available on U.S. troop or freighters, the members of the China Convoy left Pendle Hill in small groups for the first leg of the journey to the FAU headquarters in Calcutta, India. There, they participated in the unit’s humanitarian work until a flight to Kunming, the only point of entry for all foreigners and supplies during the Japanese occupation, could be arranged. Once in China, the Canadians were quickly initiated into local conditions as they hitched a ride on the back of one of the unit’s charcoal-burning trucks, often taking twelve hours in torrential rain to complete the one-hundred mile trip to Kutsing, the FAU regional headquarters. All new recruits passed through Wei Tien Hospital in Kutsing to update their shots and get additional training before being assigned to a field team. This hospital, according to Harriet Brown, was ‘where you learned to do without all the things you thought were essential in a hospital back home.’ A humble structure, it was constructed of wood, had bare dirt floors, and was without windows, except in the operating room. As Brown was to discover during one of McClure’s surgeries, the rice-paper-covered windows kept the flies out but were no match for rats. The beds were a wooden board set

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on trestles and the patients had to bring their own quilts. The family would accompany them and cook their food in little metal bowls on a small fire on the floor next to the bed. Even simple surgical dressings were quite a production when sterilization had to be done by boiling the instruments over a charcoal fire.22 It was at Kutsing that Brown began grappling with the realization that ‘we have to leave much undone and yet try not to lose the ideals of caring for the sick.’23 It was in these simple surroundings that the young medical student Ed Abbott completed his ‘internship’ in anaesthetics and gained valuable practical experience in laboratory work related to tropical diseases. Conditions within the hospital gradually improved over time during the late spring of 1945 as other Canadians undertook wiring the hospital and installing a generator that ran on charcoal. They, too, were using the hospital as a training ground learning to adapt their skills to China’s conditions.24 While appreciating the importance of emergency medical relief, McClure had a driving need to help the Chinese people in a more permanent fashion. By the time of the Canadians’ arrival, McClure, who had been engaged for some time in discussions with UNRRA officials about the unit’s role in China, had taken it upon himself to lay the blueprint for future UNRRA hospitals by building one. According to his biographer, the turning point in his career came in 1944 with the building of the Tengchung hospital in a former temple near the Burma border in Yunnan Province. ‘He was finally feeling the exhilaration of dreams come true. The Westerners were finally not only working for the Chinese but with the Chinese.’ And, as McClure wrote to his wife, Amy, ‘this is our idea of what an UNRRA hospital should be, and the fact that it is not yet adopted by its rightful parent doesn’t bother us the least.’25 Tengchung eventually became the flagship hospital used for training before UNRRA teams were sent out to start other hospitals. As the Japanese retreated, the FAU unit followed the same pattern as it had in Tengchung, entering vacated hospitals in the towns and cooperating both with UNRRA and with the mission hospitals established by religious denominations to provide emergency medical relief, epidemic control, and medical and public-health education. Soon after her arrival, Brown and some of the other Canadians were withdrawn from Wei Tien Hospital to deal with the outbreak of cholera in the devastated city of Liuchow. Along with UNRRA personnel, they organized delousing teams, set up temporary refugee hostels, and gradually instituted more orderly routines within the makeshift hospitals. Even before the

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bulk of the FAU team arrived, McClure had ‘dashed in by plane’ to set up two temporary cholera hospitals on either side of the river and made arrangements for their funding by the CNRRA and local health authorities. Brown was the nurse on the first spearhead team that commandeered the remains of the Roman Catholic monastery to set up the hospital to deal with the heavy concentration of refugees streaming into the city on the south bank. In an open compound with dirt floors, makeshift bamboo beds, and bamboo poles holding the ‘infusion bottles,’ Brown did triage with a New Zealander named Graham Milne, who had joined the south China mission under an arrangement with the FAU in 1945 and would serve there until he returned home in 1947. Two other members of the unit, ‘trained in some basic first-aid procedures,’ ‘salvaged buckets, kept a drum full of water from the river and fire going to boil instruments and provide safe water for drinking and washing.’ There was no lighting so one of the team took turns to stay overnight to tend the patients. The nurse and the doctor went back across the river to sleep, returning each morning with more supplies. Nursing in the cholera hospital could be described only as ‘pretty bare bones stuff,’ but, at least for Harriet Brown, ‘seeing life return to a corpse like figure was encouragement enough.’ Each morning, Brown and Milne left their quarters on the northern bank and crossed the river by local sampan to reach the cholera hospital on the southern bank. The daily journey was a grim reminder of the difficult decisions and exhausting day that lay ahead. Almost every morning, ‘a yellow, bloated body was carried past them, perhaps the victim of the epidemic or simply starvation. It was easier for the refugees making their slow return to their homes to use the waterway to carry their dead.’ Brown and Milne, who had worked together before, ‘made a strong team.’ Respect for each other’s professional experience was part of it. But there was affection also, for they had learnt ‘to care for each other’s welfare on the road, in coping with the wounds and diseases of those they were sent to help.’ Both were altruistic but humble: each viewed their mission as ‘simply a matter of sharing their talents with folks in need.’ Despite the solace they gathered from their friendship, however, each sometimes felt the need to reach out to another human being in the sea of suffering around them, even when that person was beyond medical help. In so doing, they recalled their core professional values: ‘To cure sometimes, to relieve often, and to comfort always.’ One such incident occurred in the Liuchow cholera hospital when they noticed that a scantily clad body had been abandoned in the outer courtyard. Brown

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was not repulsed by the mud-covered, skeleton-like body but rather saw only the hopelessness and terror on the young woman’s face: ‘I know I can’t do much but I would like her to feel some love from another human being before she dies.’ Milne’s personal memoir preserved the image of Brown kneeling in the yellow dust to wash the caked mud from the dying woman’s body: ‘The rags were gently removed from her emaciated body, washed, wrung dry and covered her again. The hair, encrusted thick with black mud, was washed clean ... and softly combed. Harriet sat crossed legged beside her, holding her hand, moistening her mouth, one hand touching the brow and sunken cheeks. She sat otherwise motionless, looking only into the gazing eyes in a pool of stillness that separated the two women from the heat and the turmoil of life around them.’ Then, as he watched, Brown slowly raised her head, acknowledging the woman’s death ‘by gently closing the eyelids ... and kiss[ing] the cold lips.’ Milne moved a few yards to meet and comfort her. ‘With tears brimming in her dark eyes, she squeezed his hand and said “Thanks, I’m OK. Let’s get on.”’26 Word of her compassionate care soon spread throughout the unit.27 As the FAU unit extended its stay past the height of the cholera epidemic to support UNRRA’s efforts to provide medical services for the influx of refugees returning to the city, some members struggled to make sense of the suffering and reconcile their work with their broader spiritual mission. Al Dobson believed that ‘UNRRA is doing a pretty good job here for the refugees. It has set up refugee shelters, empty houses with a roof and gives free medical care and rice. Every day there are doctors making the rounds of the shelters giving out medicine and sending the worst cases over here to us.’28 Yet, despite the obvious need for their continued presence and the value of their work with UNRRA, he found that to the ‘untrained eye’ there were ‘so many things that could have been done differently and in a more Christian spirit.’ He freely ‘confessed that the sight of so many people dying and in the conditions that they breathed their last – in dirt, loneliness and pain – was disheartening, but I must admit that my primary cause for disquietness of mind was spiritual.’29 Perhaps because he lacked a medical background, Dobson found it difficult to set realistic expectations for what a pioneer medical team assisting UNRRA could achieve in such primitive conditions: ‘Operations have been done in the theatre but unfortunately the results have not been flattering due sometimes to inadequate preparation on our part. This may have been avoidable or may be excusable, it is hard to say, but it did not make one feel very proud of

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the organization. On the other hand ulcers are treated, scabies are cured and malnutrition is redeemed, cholera, malaria, dysentery and other maladies are cured and patients sent home sound.’30 Eventually, ‘one of the most interesting and exasperating periods’ of Al Dobson’s young life came to an abrupt end. Before being assured that local staff or funding could be found to carry on the work of the hospitals, the FAU medical team had to pull up stakes to head for the large Union Hospital, Hankow, which was to be rehabilitated on behalf of the London Missionary Society.31 Harriet Brown, however, had received different orders; she was to return to Kutsing to be married. She remained there for several weeks helping to close down operations, in preparation for the move northward, and then worked alongside her husband in rehabilitating Tengchung Hospital in south Yunnan until they too joined the unit in Honan. As she prepared to depart, she felt ‘bitter, cynical and defeated’ as she pondered the uncertain future of Hwei Tien Hospital, which would probably fold once it was handed back to the Chinese. In her opinion, they had failed to address the real issue: ‘With great effort and in a short time we could build up and run ourselves a Western hospital, but we didn’t even approach the real problem of training the Chinese to take it over themselves and to want it sufficiently to make the necessary sacrifices.’32 Band-aid solutions continued to be hallmark of the unit’s medicalrelief work as the FAU cooperated with UNRRA in rehabilitating mission hospitals across China in Nantan, Liuchow, Hankow, and Tengchung following the Japanese retreat. And, gradually, increasing frustration erupted throughout the convoy. Some of the FAU reports back home criticized UNRRA’s efforts to re-establish hospitals in the reoccupied territory: ‘Their whole policy is so tied with investigation, red tape and presenting budgets that by the time they are ready to start working, the greatest need is past and inflation has thrown the budget to hell.’33 While waiting for work at the Hankow hospital, Dobson joined a delousing team for three weeks, walking about seven miles a day chasing down the returning refugees. Then he joined a joint UNRRA-FAU project to provide a rudimentary three-month training program for laboratory technicians. He felt ‘very fortunate to have an UNRRA graduate lab technician helping us too, so we will have quite a good set-up.’34 The groundwork for setting up this course had been laid by McClure, who was acting as a consultant with UNRRA and the London Missionary Society to rehabilitate the Hankow hospital. Soon,

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however, Dobson was dispatched on a medical-supply run to a malaria-infested area, where the unit was assisting a CNNRA man, ‘who turned out to be a native herbalist, one of those chaps who sticks pins into people to cure them of fever and disease,’ and a Dr Cransdorf – a ‘jolly optimistic UNRRA doctor’ – to distribute ‘tablets of Quinine.’ The returning refugees had brought a new strain of malaria back with them, infecting, according to the estimates available at the time, about 50 per cent of the population. Dobson’s main job in accompanying the doctor was to do the microscope work and ‘keep an eye on the tablets and see that too many were not wrongfully used or slipped into the pockets of our helpers. After all each tablet was worth several hundreds of dollars in Chinese currency.’ The temptation to pilfer supplies, given the lucrative black market in drugs, caused problems throughout China. Again a sense of disillusionment penetrated Dobson’s account of his work during this period: ‘After ten days and about ten different places we ran out of drugs and enthusiasm. We had reports of much worse districts than we had been in and we knew that one ambulance and one team was pitifully inadequate against the widespread need.’ In the end, ‘the great scheme came to naught as Dr. C. was called away by his superiors to an inspection trip in another region.’ When, in the midst of such great need, the team members were reassigned to accommodate changing medical priorities, Dobson determined that it was time ‘to work in one place so we could carry out our proposals, which includes working with people who are primarily interested in the Unit and its work, not just in the Unit’s money. These people we want to share our board and living accommodation. Primarily we want the freedom to speak about Christianity.’ He had come to question if their medical treatments really made any difference to the lives they touched: ‘This is very interesting work but really so fruitless when the recovering patient goes back to live in the same old way, in the same old conditions. This is especially true of syphilis and gonorrhoea which seem to be prevalent all over China. It makes one long for the gift of tongues to be able not only to help their bodies but also to give them the life giving words of Christianity which they need so badly.’35 Members of the FAU were tired of being parachuted in to provide temporary solutions for a never-ending series of medical crises. While the FAU’s small medical teams provided flexibility in dealing with medical emergencies, the demands for their services far outstripped their resources in either personnel or supplies. As they gained experience doing medical-relief work in China, other

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members of the FAU gradually began reconsidering the unit’s future direction. McClure had already made a similar journey. In September 1945, with McClure’s strong urging, the FAU decided at its yearly annual meeting to concentrate its efforts in Honan Province, in the area of Chengchow, just south of the Yellow River. Honan had been devastated by fighting, its towns in ruins, its railways destroyed, its agriculture neglected. Floods, droughts, and locusts had added to the toll of war, and, located as it was at a junction of rivers, roads, and railways, the province lay in the path of millions of refugees returning to their homes from the northwest. The city of Chengchow, lying just to the west of the confluence of the new and old beds of the Yellow River, was selected as the basis of the operation. The move to Honan was a significant watershed in the FAU’s rehabilitation work in China. McClure and others had independently reached the same conclusion: the FAU could make a more constructive contribution to the restoration of national health services by concentrating on all the essential social services in the province of Honan.36 In part, the choice was driven by McClure’s wish to return to old familiar territory. For the FAU’s executive secretary, Albert Dorland, and the Canadian ambassador, Victor Odlum, however, the decision had been reached for different reasons. To some degree, it was driven by the desire to raise the level of awareness among the Chinese of the distinctly Canadian relief contribution being made. Dorland believed that the choice would have particular appeal to Canadians because of the number of Canadian missions in the area and because the particular hospitals chosen were the Bethune International Peace Hospitals, named in honour of the legendary Canadian doctor, Norman Bethune, who had died in China.37 The provision of medical services coupled with rural rehabilitation in Honan would remain the focus of the unit’s work until it was forced to withdraw in 1950. Honan: Hope and Despair After the decision was reached at the September 1945 yearly meeting to concentrate the FAU’s efforts in Honan region, McClure went ahead in October with a small spearhead team to survey the prospects for an ‘area project’ that encompassed eight separate schemes covering public health and sanitation and including epidemic-control programs for Kala Azar, a disease spread by the sand flies, which proved particularly fatal for teenage boys. Plans were devised for the care and control of

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refugees all over the province through the establishment of ten transit camps with medical services and five industrial holding camps for longer-term care and rehabilitation of refugees – this at a time when flood and war damage, caused by the breaking of the Yellow River levies to halt the onslaught of the Japanese, made it impossible for refugees to reach their destination. Dobson would eventually join the team stationed at Haw Mei Hospital and the South Baptist mission compound in Honan. Once there, he later took part in one of the FAU’s projects as the quartermaster in charge of maintaining the facilities at Shr Li Tou. The project had a clinic, which started with twelve beds but acquired more as winter set in. As with other FAU convoy members, Dobson’s letters back home record how the ‘theory in our First Aid and Nursing training’ was put into practice on those days when the doctor was not at the clinic: ‘Finally getting the [young girl’s] shoulder uncovered while half the village youth looked on, we saw it was a dislocation. Neither of us had handled one before ... so he pull[ed] and I push[ed] and the girl moan[ed] in her mother’s arms; the humerous popped back into place and we dusted off our hands. It was all fine now and we went home. At other times we examined cataracts in eyes, old wounds covered with black looking patches put on by local quacks, heard of pains in various parts ... and counseled them all that injections are no good for these ailments and that they must come to the clinic when the doctor is there.’38 The frugal communal lifestyle at Shr Li Tou came closer to the fellowship Dobson had long sought. Although their simple life there was quite difficult at times, fond memories of it would later bring Dobson back to China. At the beginning of July 1946, the recently married young couple Walter and Harriet Alexander travelled to the Presbyterian mission hospital of Hwei Min, in Wehwei, Honan, to take up their new responsibilities. Alexander had already proven his administrative capabilities at Tengchung Hospital.39 At Hwei Min, during the temporary absence of the Presbyterian mission staff, he would again act as business manager and his wife was made superintendent of nurses. They found the hospital in deplorable condition. ‘We do not wish to be critical of those who carried on during the war years here, but there is no use in covering up unpleasantness in vague words, and thereby giving a false picture of the situation here.’ A graduate nurse, ‘Dr’ Liu, was seeing ninety patients a day in the outpatients’ clinic, patients at the Kala Azar clinic

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were receiving less than half the daily dosage required, and every postoperative patient was septic. The FAU had been invited to Hwei Min to replace some of the senior staff members as the first step to raising the standard of medical care given in the hospital. They expected to come ‘into a running hospital where only minor changes, re-equipment and gradual improvement of staff standards were required.’40 Instead, most of the senior staff were quickly terminated or quit and much of the hospital had to be closed temporarily for major renovations, which would take over six months and cost $5 million. Work on the renovations proceeded smoothly, however, and by August plans were under way to reopen the nursing school. Nursing continued to be the bottleneck; the number of patients admitted had to be limited because Harriet Alexander was the only qualified nurse available to cover the wards and outpatient department. Unfortunately, it was during this period that she suffered recurring bouts of malaria, the treatment of which was complicated when she developed an allergic reaction to the medications normally used. Still, by August, Alexander could write: ‘We feel the spirit amongst our staff is improving, and that relationships with the Weihwei community are improving. Hwei Min has the possibility of being a good show.’41 The FAU had agreed to operate the hospital for six months, but, with the return of the mission’s medical staff in early October, it was agreed that control would revert to the Presbyterian Synod at the end of November. Harriet’s continued poor health forced her and her husband to return to Canada in the fall of 1947. While in Honan, the members of the unit had several unnerving encounters with the Chinese community. Hwei Min Hospital had been established literally as the Japanese had pulled out. Over time, those displaced from the area began to return, only to find their homes destroyed either by the bombing or by the extensive flooding from the Yellow River. The Chinese decision to break the dikes in an attempt to hold the Japanese back had resulted in massive destruction throughout the river’s flood plain. The need among the returning refugees was so enormous that the medical staff ‘could only do what they could do or they would go crazy.’ Some days they had to close the doors before everyone waiting could be seen. After one such occasion, the FAU staff discovered how the Chinese expressed their disapproval; the last Chinese peasant turned away was found hanging from their gates the next morning.42 On another occasion, Walter Alexander’s pacifist convic-

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tions came under fire when he was confronted by a retreating Chinese general, who refused to believe that the ‘volunteers’ did not have food and money to hand over. Instead of focusing on the danger that this armed group posed, Alexander was struck by their poverty and desperate need for medical attention. He diffused the situation by offering to provide medical aid for the soldiers at the clinic.43 The FAU’s hope of working with UNRRA/CNRRA and the missions to rehabilitate hospitals destroyed during the war met with mixed success. Another FAU team moved into Changte, Honan, to Kwang Sheng Hospital, two hundred miles to the north of Chengchow. By the end of June 1946, the FAU unit there, McClure reported, was carrying on routine medical work in a sixty-bed hospital. But the future of this and other FAU hospitals became increasingly insecure as UNRRA withdrew its personnel from the war zones. In the case of McClure, his time in China ended sadly. The country continued to be torn by civil war between the Nationalist and Communists forces and, in December 1948, after seeing his Hwaiking hospital reduced to rubble and on learning that his eldest daughter was ill, he left the country. The initial hopes after V-J Day that China could concentrate on rebuilding soon dissipated as inflation and the civil war spiralled out of control. The announcement of the failure of peace talks came as no surprise. FAU members found that carrying out their work in collaboration with UNRRA, the missions, and the CNRRA grew more difficult and ultimately impossible as fear of and suspicion towards foreigners increased. China seemed destined to be a land plagued by floods, famine, disease, and perpetual war. While the Canadians in the FAU’s China Convoy collaborated with UNRRA and other voluntary agencies engaged in relief and rehabilitation work, the unit never abandoned its own ethos of service and clung tenaciously to its right to decide where and how FAU resources would be used. UNRRA’s relations with the FAU typified the quandary the Administration faced in relying on international voluntary agencies for badly needed supplies, transportation, and staff. These organizations, many of which had long histories of service in China, jealously guarded their own turf, and their cooperation was tempered by their desire to further their own mission of service. The rivalry between UNRRA and the voluntary agencies in China mirrored UNRRA’s experience in the Middle East and Germany. Policies decided at headquarters regarding UNRRA’s relations with both voluntary agencies and national governments simply assumed a different reality in the field.

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Medical Supplies and More: Francis Starr The gypsy lifestyle of FAU members brought them into closer touch with the real China that survived even as the different invaders came and went. Sharing the same food, sleeping accommodations, and dangers of war or disease as the Chinese among whom they worked, they braved repeated bouts of malaria and relapsing fever, bandits, bureaucratic red tape, and floods to get the job done. The FAU achieved its record of success – by V-J Day, FAU trucks were hauling 95 per cent of the medical supplies being provided to civilian hospitals in free China – despite hazardous road conditions, destruction to the railways, internal political strife, and runaway inflation. Part of Albert Dorland’s responsibilities involved visiting Shanghai’s wharfs to oversee the unloading of Canadian relief supplies. His work gave him ‘a bit of an impression what China is doing or rather not doing, and CNRRA’s efforts are not too favourable.’ He criticized UNRRA as being ‘top heavy with personnel at present’ and for failing to ensure that the supplies it turned over to CNRRA were ‘being used as well as they might be.’ Instead UNRRA/CNRRA supply operations were engulfed in corruption and paralysed by inflation: ‘A mad scramble for profit seems to be the chief concern for all concerned in Shanghai and very little interest in the needs of the people of China. At present Shanghai is going through a mad inflation in which prices rise 100’s of dollars every few days and the chief pastime is in speculation in exchange.’ His letters chronicle how UNRRA’s operations continued to deteriorate: ‘Shanghai is big and corrupt and full of graft as ever and prices seemed to be steadily climbing. There has recently been a big shake-up in UNRRA and a lot of the top men have resigned. It is too bad that Kizer [UNRRA director for China] resigned. He is a good man. There is a lot of dirty politics behind it all though, of which he was the unfortunate victim.’44 It seemed that UNRRA in China was bent on going through the same kind of administrative meltdown as it had in Germany during the early days. Especially in the initial stages of the China mission, there is no doubt that UNRRA supplies accumulated dockside without adequate transportation, organization, or funds. Dorland’s views support the official history’s categorization of early UNRRA/CNRRA supply operations as ‘marred by disagreements, inefficiency, and considerable friction.’45 The situation improved only when UNRRA seconded more experienced personnel to the CNRRA to oversee the supply program. But the inequalities in distribution

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in the Communist-held territories persisted throughout UNRRA’s operations. Dorland contended that the FAU distribution system was less cumbersome and less prone to political and economic manipulation than UNRRA’s. It already had a well-established reputation assisting the Chinese people in time of war and had greater discretion in determining its own priorities. Consequently, UNRRA often turned to the members of the FAU, such as Francis Starr, to take supplies where few others could or would not dare to venture. Raised in a prominent Quaker family that emigrated to Canada after the American Revolution, Starr had been a farmer, chauffeur, and ranch cook before being assigned, with other conscientious objectors during the war, to construction work on the Trans-Canada Highway, fire-fighting in British Columbia, and forestry work in Chalk River. His pick-and-shovel days ended when, after recovering from scarlet fever, he was made camp nurse. Starr, though initially assigned to the transportation division, not only trucked supplies but was also involved in the full range of the unit’s relief and rehabilitation activities, including running an orphanage, in Honan Province.46 ‘Fiercely independent,’ ‘high spirited,’ and ‘a cowboy’ were all terms used by his teammates to describe Starr, whose daring exploits became legendary among the FAU unit. On one occasion, while he was stationed in Kutsing, the American armed forces then pulling out from a local military base offered the FAU whatever supplies could be loaded before the Chinese Nationalist forces took control. Having arrived at the base to find it already occupied by the Chinese, all except one of the unit’s trucks returned to the garage empty-handed. The whereabouts of Starr and his truck, however, remained a mystery for several hours until finally the groaning of a truck overflowing with cargo could be heard as it crept up the steep hill to the unit’s garage. According to the story the brash young Starr recounted: he had pulled up to the warehouse platform, saluted, and confidently ordered the Chinese soldiers to help load his truck. The unit’s leader, thinking of his members’ recent close calls with trigger-happy Chinese soldiers, replied: ‘Jesus Christ Starr.’ The others gathered around added ‘Amen.’47 After Starr joined the unit in Honan, convoy life with its accompanying dangers, pestilence, and floods proved even more arduous. Getting supplies to these areas was not a task for the faint-hearted. It was embarrassing to be passed by a coolie on foot whom they had passed on the road two weeks ago! Moreover, work in the north brought the unit into contact for the first time with Communist-held territory. Starr

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recalled loading his truck, an old Japanese relic without brakes, to make one of his most interesting and dangerous runs to deliver food, medical supplies, and a mobile medical team to relieve the starving civilians in the besieged city of Yungnien, deep within ‘red territory,’ where an opportunistic warlord had taken refuge in the walled city. Starr succinctly summed up the local warlord’s predicament: ‘The Reds diverted a nearby river and made a huge moat around the city. The war lord had liquidated too many Communists to have a chance of becoming their puppet, so he decided to sit tight and wait for Nationalist deliverance.’48 As he navigated the dangerous road and broken bridges en route to Yungnien, Starr’s journey ‘was occasionally interrupted by a guerilla [sic] popping up out of a wheat field or from behind a tree ... [Starr] was quite impressed with the way these boys toyed with the hand grenades that dangled from their belts.’ When the convoy finally arrived in Hantan, Hopei, the headquarters of the Communist forces in the area, they were ‘feasted, lectured and bedded at a party hostel.’ What surprised Starr was that the truck could be left unguarded without fear of being robbed and that ‘there appear to be no rich people and no poor people.’ This was quite a contrast to what he found upon entering the city the following morning: Ever since I crossed that mile or more of water ... to what seemed like another world, I’ve been trying to record the emotions caused by the trip, but they don’t seem to be for words. We pulled out about noon with three small boats loaded with medicines, vitamins and food from the ‘la by shing’ of Canada, USA and Britain for the ‘la by shing’ of China. It was a grand gesture, those small boats of brotherhood and mercy crossing the foul waters of hatred, lust and murder. Nevertheless in many ways, the whole thing seemed so futile as we were probably just prolonging the starvation period of some of our fellow men. And then on the other hand we had come out here to help them and their enemies, the same amount of medical supplies as we took into Yungnien had been given to the Communist representative in Changteh and by setting them an example of unselfishness, we could only hope that our mission would ultimately result in some good. I suppose practically all suffering is caused by human greed but this was the first time I had ever come into physical contact with men whose greed and hatred was causing suffering among their brothers. It was quite a different sensation from just reading about such people.

Starr wondered what his friends back home would think of his breaking

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bread with one of China’s most notorious warlords, General Shu. One glance at him convinced Starr that ‘the Reds had not overrated his treachery. Never in my life have I gazed on a more evil looking character. He made the Hollywood conception of a Chinese bandit look almost saint like.’ In contrast to the Communist village of the previous night, there ‘in Yungnien the streets were almost deserted and an atmosphere of death hung about the place ... so it seemed that the people were starving in an orderly fashion, with the poor going first and the property owners hanging on according to the amount of their possessions.’49 Whatever doubts individual members experienced or private political views they held, FAU convoys went where few others dared and made possible the survival of nursing schools and hospitals that had endured bombs, bandits, and much else.50 By the time that Starr delivered the medical supplies to the Communist headquarters at Hantan, in January, another truck convoy had left Chungking for Yenan, the Communist capital, taking drugs and supplies to the International Peace Hospitals. It is not surprising, then, that Albert Dorland took particular pride in the FAU’s record in getting supplies and a medical team, including one Canadian, Jack Dodds, into the Communist area: Everybody said that it couldn’t be done but the FAU said they thought that it could be done, and have done it ... For years there has been great need in Communist China, but because of the Gov’t blockade, little or no relief could be given to meet the needs of 150,000,000 persons ... The way the FAU succeeded in their program was by making special representation to General Marshall[,] head of the cease fire mission in China. It was thought that airplanes might be obtained to fly relief goods over the lines on aircraft operated by the Peace Teams, hence getting around the difficulty of getting supplies across the lines – a move that would most certainly be blocked by the Kuomintang. Both Marshall and the American Ambassador Leighton Stewart were very interested in the idea and agreed to supply two C-47’s for the job.51

The account given years later by Wilf Howarth, who was involved in deciding to send a medical team and in gathering the medical supplies for the expedition, suggests that the FAU team was caught off-guard by its accidental success in making arrangements. They had gained access to Marshall as a result of a chance meeting with his secretary, who turned out to be an old schoolmate of one of the FAU members. Marshall’s direct intervention meant that everything unfolded far more

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quickly than expected. The planes, they were told, would leave in two days! What followed was a frantic and often humorous race against time. The FAU had ‘no supplies, no medical team and no trucks’ but knew that this was probably the only opportunity that they would get to take badly needed supplies to Communist-held areas. Trucks were borrowed from the British Red Cross; teams of two were sent to scrounge supplies from the voluntary societies and the CNRRA all through the night. Howarth, who led the team designated to approach the CNRRA, was surprised at his audacity on this occasion. He broke into, unannounced, a high-level CNRRA meeting and successfully made the FAU’s case for being given immediate priority in allocating medical supplies to the FAU medical-airlift project to Yenan, even if it meant diverting already designated supplies and equipment. He ended his entertaining account of their efforts by noting that the FAU’s secretary – complete with her desk – typed the final invoices in the back of one of the trucks during the mad dash to the airport where the planes, already behind schedule, were impatiently waiting to load the cargo.52 Dorland made the following prediction: ‘It may well be that the teams will be stuck in there [Yenan] for a long time if the American cease fire teams should suddenly be withdrawn from China – since there would be no way out then ... If Yenan is taken, the team will most likely withdraw to the hills with the people & will continue to provide medical care for the sick and the wounded.’ The danger, he added, did not deter the group, which included a young couple expecting their first child. Dorland, like the other FAU members, believed the risk was worth taking: ‘It is an unprecedented chance to work with a group of Chinese who are desperately in need. It certainly will be a fascinating tale when they finally get out. I wish I had been one of the lucky six.’ Dorland’s prediction proved correct: the Communists abandoned Yenan as the Nationalists mounted a heavily armed advance in early March 1947, and the FAU personnel evacuated the International Peace Hospital and retreated north with the Communists; they re-established their mobile hospitals over the next months, often under the cover of night to avoid air attacks, in more and more remote caves.53 FAU officials wondered anxiously about the team’s fate for the next four months until Jack Dodds brought word of their safety: ‘Using nothing but his wits to survive,’ he made his way back by walking or hitching rides through no man’s land, relying on the hospitality of the local country people.54 The incredible adventures and rugged heroism of Canadian mem-

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bers of the FAU’s transport division were matched by other Canadians on UNRRA’s staff. On more than one occasion, UNRRAIDS, such as Dr Tilson Harrison, looked to the FAU to help them make clandestine deliveries of medical supplies. The decision of this ‘fine old doctor in his 60’s’ to obtain his medical degree from the University of Toronto in 1907 marked only a temporary diversion from a life of medical adventure that would lead him into wars and civil revolutions on five continents, including serving with Francisco ‘Pancho’ Villa, the Mexican rebel leader, and participating in an unsuccessful rebellion in China before the First World War.55 During that conflict, he joined the Canadian Army Medical Corps and served briefly in France before being seconded to the British army and put in charge of a hospital ministering to the needs of the Chinese Labour Corps, composed of some 200,000 men – a posting that gave him a familiarity with Chinese language and culture that proved useful for his future work in China. From 1941 to 1946, Harrison was ship’s doctor aboard the Blue Funnel Lines steamer Demodocus, ferrying food and medical supplies to Allied forces all around the Indian Ocean on behalf of Lord Louis Mountbatten’s Southeast Asia Command. After being demobilized, he had lied about his age, subtracting seven years from his date of birth in order to qualify for service with UNRRA.56 While some UNRRA officials questioned Harrison’s medical expertise, no one doubted his dedication to the Chinese people. Learning that the UNRRA office in Hankow had finally arranged with Chinese government officials to deliver 20,000 tons of medical supplies to an area with 30,000 people but still under Communist control, he decided to ensure the cargo’s safe arrival by travelling in one of the railway boxcars. As soon as the train approached its destination, the Nationalist government cut loose the three boxcars and hijacked the medical supplies to a nearby siding, leaving Harrison stranded in the bitter December cold without provisions for weeks. Eventually, after UNRRA’s officials were sent on repeated wild-goose chases throughout the countryside, he was finally located but in poor condition, with a severe case of frostbite to his hands and feet. Grateful for his rescue, he emerged from the harrowing experience undeterred but shrewder. Afterwards, Harrison resorted to more covert methods of getting medical supplies to the Communist-held areas by concealing his truck in the FAU convoys destined for the Yellow River reclamation project.57 Although Harrison’s truck was strafed repeatedly by Nationalist planes, he persevered, constantly changing his route. He continued to

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take other risks as well, posing on one occasion as a U.S. army officer while hiding ninety students in the hold of his barge – their detection would have meant certain death since they would have been executed immediately as suspected Communists. It was Albert Dorland who ruefully reported Harrison’s last convoy run to the village of Hotse in central China in a newsletter to his Quaker friends back in Canada: The weather was cloudy so that the planes out looking for the convoy in order to strafe it did not find it and when the convoy rolled past the walls of the last garrison town, the Nationalists were so surprised to see this convoy striking out across ‘no man’s land’ that they didn’t shoot. Fortunately after spending a perilous night in a little town, expecting to be caught in a big drive, they got across into Communist territory. On arrival at Chang Chin ... the trucks were in such bad condition it was decided to unload the supplies and transport them the remaining 150 miles ... by oxcart. That night in his sleep Dr. Harrison died worn out by fatigue and strain.

The Communists held a memorial service in his honour the next day. Dorland correctly predicted that ‘Harrison’s name will go down with Bethune, the founder of the International Peace Hospital in China[,] as one of the great Canadian friends of China.’58 His death served as a reminder of the overwhelming odds against success that the FAU and UNRRA faced. While transporting medical supplies was only one of the many functions that FAU transport members performed on UNRRA’s behalf, their contributions should not be measured in the number of tons of supplies delivered. In practice, FAU assignments were fluid, changing as circumstances permitted or priorities shifted. Starr provided a colourful portrayal of convoy life for his family and friends in Canada: ‘My enthusiasm for life on the road has not abated since my last letters, and eating in a “fan dien” [a roadside café] is still an adventure. The simple act of going to bed is also much more interesting than I experienced back home. I have a removable compartment over the open part of the truck, right behind the cab. It is there I roll out my bed. For safety’s sake we always try to park in the town for the night, and a foreigner going to bed for the night on top of a truck makes about as good a sideshow as many people have seen. According to the laughs I get, I feel sure they think it is very funny indeed to see me take off a pair of pants and put [on] another just before going to bed.’59 Starr refrained from mention-

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ing that one night, to gain some privacy, he jumped on the top of a truck brandishing a knife to frighten off the crowds.60 But the challenges of such a life went well beyond the lack of personal space or privacy, for there was no such thing as a routine delivery run across China. Starr recalled the unexpected turn of events during one of the inevitable delays on the train tracks: ‘The maimed and the blind gathered around and sought our help’ and astonishingly enough were quite prepared for ‘anyone of us to operate on them.’ Undaunted, the FAU team broke open their first-aid kits, made a fire, and sterilized the instruments. With Starr playing the role of ‘policeman and consultant’ to control the inflow of patients, they offered what little help they could. No records were kept, but Starr estimated that, of the eighty people treated at their makeshift clinic, ‘at least half the people were beyond help as far as we were concerned. We could merely say ... can’t do anything about it and turn to the next one.’ For Starr, ‘the whole proceedings were rather bizarre but served very well to illustrate the awful needs of the people out here.’61 While eye problems and scabies accounted for the majority of the cases treated that day, minor surgery for an abdominal abscess was also attempted, even though it meant using a condom for drainage. The incident is symptomatic of the range of medical tasks with which the small FAU units dealt on a daily basis. Besieged by constant requests for medical attention, the unit’s members found it difficult not to be consumed by their inability to make a meaningful difference in a land where the level of human suffering was simply staggering. The Canadians’ stories of transporting supplies and providing medical services throughout China conveyed the raw emotional conflict they experienced while attempting to reconcile their personal and professional lives with the reality that was China. The history of the Canadians in the China Convoy vividly highlights the unexpected developments they encountered, the demanding tests of individual courage and faith they underwent, and, most remarkably, the compassion and dedication they displayed everywhere they worked in the country. There were more than a few occasions when FAU members’ leisurely contemplation of the virtues of theoretical pacifism back home vanished in a split-second decision made in an actual life-threatening situation. For some members, their spiritual odyssey of service frequently collided with the grim facts of medical-relief work in China. The twenty Canadians were integral members of the China Convoy, displaying adaptability, resourcefulness, and humility in their attempts

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to be with and help the Chinese people. The FAU’s already well-established reputation among Chinese political leaders on both sides of the political spectrum opened the door for daring medical relief initiatives, but sheer courage and individual determination took its members the rest of the way. Though the overwhelming poverty and human suffering gradually exacted its toll among the unit’s members, most were seduced by the mystery and majesty of China and learned to abandon their sense of Western cultural superiority. Many would have stayed on to continue their work in China if the political circumstances had been different. China had shaped their minds and hearts. Yet courage was not limited to the men and women of the FAU. Not only had one Canadian UNRRAID, Tilson Harrison, already paid with his life for his determination to help the Chinese people irrespective of their political affiliations, but the nursing brigade in Formosa would also face personal dangers as the island became increasing embroiled in civil war. Nursing in China: The Formosa Contingent UNRRA nurses came to China to assist Chinese nurses to update their professional knowledge, to support the development of nursing in face of the isolation and destruction of eight years of war, and to organize the nursing service and train personnel for hospitals receiving UNRRA supplies and equipment. Performing these tasks would have been difficult in peacetime; in a country torn apart by civil war, obstacles arose beyond what they could have contemplated. The overwhelming majority of UNRRA nurses brokered bureaucratic politics to develop plans for hospitals, revise personnel policies, initiate student involvement in public health, and help revive auxiliary branches of the Nurses Association of China without the benefit of being able to speak the language.62 Helena Reimer and Muriel Graham arrived in Formosa in 1946, and by 1949 the Kuomintang, forced to evacuate the mainland, had relocated there as well. The intervening years, filled with political strife, corruption, and greed, had devastating effects on Reimer’s and Graham’s efforts to direct UNRRA’s nursing services in Formosa. Both were experienced nursing educators with extensive administrative experience. During her visit to UNRRA’s Tolumbat hospital in Egypt, Chief Nurse Lillian Johnston had identified Reimer as the ideal candidate to organize the nursing services and hospitals in Formosa. Neither Reimer’s previous experience at Tolumbat nor Graham’s military nurs-

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ing service, however, prepared them for the maze of patronage and corruption that engulfed their work in Formosa. At first, Reimer regarded her new surroundings as ‘without a doubt the most beautiful spot in which I have lived,’63 certainly a distinct improvement over life in a tent in the Egyptian desert, where one of the few vestiges of civilization was the ‘batman [who] wakens you at 6:30 with a cup of tea and hot water for your canvas bowl to wash.’64 Her new UNRRA billet was a well-appointed apartment in a lovely Japanese hotel a few miles outside Taipei, and set amidst ‘wooded hills with beautiful tropical plants, orchids you can pick.’ Yet, from the outset, her luxurious lodgings provided a stark contrast to the reality of her arduous work day. How could it be otherwise on an island with a population of six million people but only three registered nurses? Reimer had a voracious appetitive for hard work and, besides her nursing duties, quickly launched some relief programs until the welfare members of her team could arrive: ‘Knowing that in China it takes fifty years to make a plan, I was surprised at myself when I found myself in charge of a milk feeding centre on my third day here. But apparently my western straight forwardness was taken at face value.’65 All of her enthusiasm and nursing talents would be required in the months ahead. Not unexpectedly, Reimer and Graham encountered shortages of supplies and a cultural milieu which arrested the development of modern nursing-training programs. Graham, with the help of a young Chinese nurse who acted as her translator, was given responsibility for nursing-education programs on the island of Pingtung, where she discovered that ‘all the problems of finding living quarters, demonstrations and classrooms and every kind of supply had to be met.’66 On Pingtung as elsewhere in China, UNRRA nurses improvised everything from incubators to water filters, using, for example, flour sacks for linens, bamboo mats for beds, paper for dressings and sanitary supplies, and cheesecloth for window screens. But the logistical bottlenecks paled compared to the cultural barriers that stifled their progress. The Formosa nurse, Reimer explained in an article for the Canadian Nurse, ‘is a cross between a technician and a maid.’ In an elaborate curriculum that was set up for the nursing schools, there was not one course in ‘nursing care.’ Part of the existing curriculum, however, was called ‘Spiritual Values,’ which, Reimer contended, consisted ‘mostly of advice on obedience to doctors and other authorities.’ In fact, she had not ‘seen any nursing care being given in any of the hospitals that I have visited so far,’ with the exception of injections in the outpatient clinic.

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She provided a chilling view of the challenge of educating young girls, who were ‘practically illiterate’ and regarded as menial servants: ‘As yet there are no buildings, no equipment, no teachers, and no supervisors in hospitals or rather no nurses in hospitals.’ Chinese nurses had suffered a tremendous loss of prestige during the war: ‘To the Japanese, a nurse was the servant of the doctor; the “student nurse” instruction [included] not even elementary procedures.’67 Compounding these difficulties was a curriculum that she described as a ‘master piece of Chinese planning but something beyond this world – certainly beyond the comprehension of the Formosa middle school student.’68 Pedagogical difficulties aside, the curriculum called for the student to spend eighteen hours a day in the classroom and eight hours on the ward. Fortunately, the Canadian UNRRA nurse was given the task of revising this routine so as to make it fit a normal twenty-four-hour day. Graham’s Canadian Nurse article reveals ‘the delicious sense of humour’ and ‘upbeat personality’ for which she had been renowned since her nursing school days.’69 UNRRA nurses frequently set aside their educational efforts when called upon to help establish dozens of hospitals to deal with epidemics of typhoid, diphtheria, smallpox, and cholera. Reimer soon formed a strong team with the medical missionary Hildur Hermanson, sent by the Canadian Presbyterian Church, the two of them working tirelessly as part of the larger UNRRA effort to control the first outbreak of cholera in Formosa. They arrived ‘to find the patients lying on the floor of the so called isolation hospital in the most incredible filth.’ A letter from Hermanson to the Canadian Nurse gives a clear account of what was accomplished over the next week: ‘We found out that the army had some beds that rightly belonged to the isolation hospital so we went there and got some beds from them. Then they got gowns, sheets and soap from UNRRA, bought wash basins, set up a sort of isolation technique and the mayor saw to it that the patients could get food. But first of all, we had to clean up the place, which meant that we did a major part of the scrubbing. The heat was terrific and the patients so dirty that we had to clean them to exist. We also set up intravenous sets and our doctor persuaded the resident doctor to use them. He became interested when he found that the patients so treated lived!’ Hermanson paid tribute to Reimer, noting that UNRRA ‘can be proud of her. She is doing magnificent work.’70 Nursing together under such dire conditions forged a deep bond of friendship between the two women, which Reimer drew upon for personal and professional support. Their friendship also offered Reimer a window into Chinese culture, for Her-

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manson had trained young Chinese nurses before the outbreak of the war and also spoke the local Formosan language (which was distinct from the Chinese language). Her advice helped Reimer adapt her nursing techniques and educational programs to a different set of cultural expectations, where the role of women as nursing professionals capable of making a valuable contribution to national health was not recognized. Innovation and self-reliance were the twin pillars buttressing Reimer’s approach to international nursing. After giving the nurses in a particular place the basic instruction they needed to cope with the cholera outbreak, she moved on to the next stop to establish the same isolation techniques. Years later, she explained to a group of young people in Winnipeg her method of instructing relatively inexperienced nurses’ aides on how to cope with a cholera outbreak without the benefit of a translator: she put a mat (the Chinese equivalent of a hospital bed) on the floor, then she and an aide brought in one of the patients, all of whom were in a thoroughly miserable state. She proceeded to wash the patient and give care while the aides watched. Soon the patient was clean and relatively comfortable on a clean mat in the ward. They brought in another patient and, as Reimer commenced giving care, one of the aides tapped her on the shoulder and indicated that she would take over. As they brought in another patient, another aide took over. Reimer remarked to her Canadian audience: ‘It was at this point that I realized that good nursing is a universal language.’71 With the cholera outbreak contained, Reimer and Graham resumed their work as nursing educators. One of Graham’s initial assignments was teaching a two-month refresher course at the National University Medical College. Later, she organized the nursing services in Heito, including assisting in the complete rehabilitation of the hospital and supervising nursing-education programs. Graham and Reimer were both in Heito when the civil unrest that had been brewing for some time erupted into a bloodbath; Hermanson was by then at work in the mission hospital in Taipei. All three Canadian nurses tasted the smell of gunfire at too close a distance for comfort. General Chiang Kai-shek’s Kuomintang forces ruthlessly suppressed the spontaneous protests and unorganized riots that had erupted on 27 February 1947 in response to a series of unpopular Nationalist political decisions, particularly the postponement of elections until 1949 and new policies that excluded most Formosans from the opportunity to buy the land they now occupied on a low rental basis and that placed

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‘into the hands of a few mainland people an absolute control of all external trade and general control of internal production as well.’72 In a tragic account of the events in Taipei, the American ambassador, John Leighton Stuart, observed what Hermanson went through after the arrival of the Kuomintang forces from the mainland: Beginning March 9, there was widespread and indiscriminate killing. Soldiers were seen bayoneting coolies without apparent provocation in front of a Consulate staff residence. Soldiers were seen to rob a passerby. An old man protesting the removal of a woman from his house was cut down by two soldiers. The Canadian nurse in charge of an adjacent Mission Hospital was observed bravely to make seven trips under fire into the crowded area across the avenue to treat persons shot down or bayoneted and once as she supervised the movement of a wounded man into the hospital ... Some of the patients brought in were shot and hacked to pieces.73

The ambassador’s memo provides a vivid picture of the systematic ruthlessness with which the government troops gradually widened their net throughout the suburbs of Taipei to include all critics of the government in an effort to ‘break any spirit of resistance. Manhunts were observed being conducted through the hills near the UNRRA hostel.’74 On the journey to work from their billet, UNRRA personnel had to pass bodies that were strewn on the roads. Life outside Taipei was no less dangerous. Meanwhile, Helena Reimer, Muriel Graham, and a young Formosan nurse had some harrowing experiences in Haito until their rescue by one of UNRRA’s industrial-rehabilitation officers – a tall, lanky New Zealander named Allan J. Shackleton. Upon arriving in Haito, he ‘found them safe and sound, but very much upset.’ Unfortunately for the two Canadian UNRRA nurses, their hotel had been the headquarters of the rebels and ‘therefore came in for particular attention from the Nationalist Army. At one stage, they were caught by machine gun fire and took refuge behind a large post at the entrance-way, one bullet striking the post.’ Conditions deteriorated further after the rebels retreated: the nurses ‘were left entirely alone and the officers billeted themselves in the hotel. Later they obtained girls and turned it into a brothel.’ The officers remained only overnight, and the next day the three nurses sought refuge with the mayor at the Municipal Guest House. But their troubles were not over yet. After a soldier died of a gunshot wound to the head, ‘the military then arrested three doctors

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and three nurses, charging that the soldier had not been looked after properly. As one of the UNRRA nurses, a Formosan, had seen [the soldier] ... on duty when he was admitted, she was implicated.’75 Despite the grave danger, the two Canadian nurses remained behind until the Formosan nurse was cleared and free to continue her work. While other members of UNRRA’s medical staff chose to leave posts when their personal security could not be reasonably guaranteed, Reimer and Graham soldiered on, earning the respect of their colleagues and Chinese students. Reimer in fact would join the WHO nursing service in Formosa as a consultant, despite the advice from her UNRRA superiors, who urged her to return home to normal life and warned her that the political climate there was not conducive to the establishment of nursing services. Eventually, as her health deteriorated, she found it impossible to continue her work on account of the obstructionist attitude of CNRRA officials, who delayed the flow of medical supplies, and the lack of support from local authorities.76 On 17 October 1947 she requested her termination, citing all the difficulties relating to the establishment of the nursing school. UNRRA’s official reports indicate that her departure was deeply regretted: ‘We would like, however, to let you know that Miss Reimer has rendered a great service to us, and has given us constructive advice regarding our nursing problems here ... As you know a Nursing School of high standing is being inaugurated here, and therefore, continued help from her is much needed.’ At the time, Reimer ‘was the only employee left in Formosa with some medical knowledge and was therefore a permanent member of the Formosa Joint Committee on CNRRA.’77 As for Muriel Graham, she too was well liked and her organizational and administrative skills were respected by her students and the Chinese medical professionals with whom she worked. Her superiors’ official reports took special note of her great ability to solve difficult problems in the face of the challenging conditions that prevailed in the majority of hospitals. Graham, they acknowledged, ‘undoubtedly introduced a more modern concept of nursing throughout the island and greatly helped with the building up of a new training system.’78 Despite all the limitations placed upon their work, these two Canadian UNRRA nurses deserve recognition for their role in laying the foundations of modern nursing in Formosa. Each demonstrated imagination and organizational ability in dealing with administrative bottlenecks and local politics. Each displayed qualities of independent thinking and vision. And each fostered a sense of professionalism

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among the nursing staff by establishing weekly nursing meetings within hospitals and beginning plans to form a practical nurses association. In encouraging nurses to work together to overcome their problems, whether through the creation of nursing standards or through improvement in their conditions of employment, they took the only steps possible to ensure that the advances made were not lost once the UNRRA nurses disappeared from the scene. Moreover, understanding the need to educate the Chinese doctors as well as the nurses, they had patiently and diplomatically worked to overcome the resistance of local medical authorities to allow the nursing staff to practice on the wards what had been taught in the classroom. To the same end, they even invited local physicians to attend their nursing classes, in the hope of overcoming the cultural inhibitions that led to their repeated refusal, for example, to permit patients to be bathed. Neither Reimer nor Graham had any illusions about the amount of work still required to improve the status and living conditions of the young Chinese women who chose nursing as a career. They were tireless advocates for these women, who, Reimer maintained, ‘in spite of the fact that they are not qualified nurses,’ were ‘pioneers of professional nursing in Taiwan and should be given all possible assistance both in improving their knowledge and in bettering their living conditions and raising their social status.’79 Reimer’s and Graham’s experiences allow us to see in miniature what was happening to UNRRA nurses all over China as greed, corruption, and civil conflict impeded attempts to rehabilitate the nursing services in a country that had already suffered years of war and deprivation.80 Conclusion The experience of the Canadian UNRRA nurses and the voluntary agencies, such as the FAU, in China demonstrated how inadequate educational standards and lack of a national public-health infrastructure, coupled with a very different set of cultural expectations, frustrated their attempts to deliver emergency medical relief and to rehabilitate the national health system. The war-induced economic deterioration and the intensification of the civil war further hampered these efforts. But the greatest constraint was simply that neither UNRRA nor the voluntary agencies, like the FAU, had the financial resources, personnel, or medical supplies required to meet the overwhelming health requirements of war-torn China. UNRRA’s own policies governing the dis-

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tribution of supplies within China, while understandable from the perspective of these constraints, compromised its ability to appear neutral. The experience that UNRRA’s medical staff gained in the field suggested that practitioners of international medical relief would require competencies well beyond their chosen medical fields. Courage, physical and emotional toughness, and cultural and professional adaptability were the characteristics of those who had successful careers in the field, while political astuteness and considerable diplomatic skill were prerequisites for exercising effective leadership to circumvent the political entanglements that undermined UNRRA’s Health Division’s program in China. As the civil war raged, however, the task became impossible, both for the FAU and for nursing educators like Reimer and Graham.

PART FOUR Life after UNRRA

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11 Ties That Bind

Back home, the debate on post-war immigration policy had been launched well before UNRRA’s end was announced, but as yet the question of what changes would be made remained undecided. Many Canadians returning from service with UNRRA threw themselves into the national debate as passionate spokespersons for a more liberal approach to Canadian immigration policy. The UNRRA years had clearly reached into their hearts and minds in a way that helped to reshape social attitudes. Similarly, by 1945, the widening rift between wartime Allies was already altering the dynamics of post-war relief. The Iron Curtain that Churchill described as descending on Europe in his speech at Fulton, Missouri, was also about to descend on UNRRA relief. It was equally evident that the United States was determined to use aid as an instrument of national policy to support democratic regimes. Yet, when the Geneva Council meeting of UNRRA concluded in the summer of 1946, no commitment to any specific program for the completion of UNRRA’s work had been made. One of Lester Pearson’s first responsibilities in his new job as under-secretary of state for external affairs was to advise the Canadian government on the problem of post-UNRRA relief. Post-UNRRA Aid The divergent viewpoints within the Department of External Affairs and the Canadian government as a whole were exposed in raw form during the wide-ranging discussions which both preceded the debate on post-UNRRA relief at the United Nations General Assembly in September 1946 and continued that fall. A Department of External Affairs

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memorandum outlined how UNRRA’s guiding principle that ‘relief should be divorced from politics’ proved untenable in practice when it meant that that ‘the Western Democracies have been extending charity to countries in Eastern Europe whose political policies have, from our point of view, been most unsatisfactory.’ Instead, a new view – that ‘foreign economic policies, including especially such matters as credits and relief, cannot without irresponsibility be dissociated from overall strategic and political policies’1 – was gaining currency. Its author, one of Canada’s most notable diplomats of the post-war era, Arnold Smith, had just returned from a three-year posting in Moscow, where he had developed a deep-rooted suspicion of the Soviet Union’s international intentions which coloured his recommendations on Canada’s future aid policy. The hard-line approach resounded throughout his 1946 memorandum, which triggered an intense debate within the Department of External Affairs: UNRRA, Smith stated, had become an instrument whereby North American surpluses were used to finance the Soviet rearmament program, Soviet occupation policies, and the consolidation of totalitarian regimes in Eastern Europe. In Smith’s mind, future Canadian international aid should be used to foster the growth of democratic regimes in Europe and to counter the effects of communism, which he believed flourished most easily in areas of poverty. To stiffen the backbone of democratic and pro-Western forces throughout Europe, he would make blatantly clear that ‘our policy is: no relief – and by implication no loans – to totalitarian regimes.’2 His confident statement that this would be ‘met with ample support from North American opinion’ was soon challenged, however, right within his own department. R.G. Riddell, who later drafted the important Gray lecture that Louis St Laurent would give at the University of Toronto in 1947 on the principles of Canadian foreign policy, a lecture that some have seen as ‘the classic statement of post-war Canadian internationalism,’ disagreed with Smith’s key points.3 Riddell argued that ‘if we are going to give food at all, I should think it would be better to give it unconditionally and in spite of circumstances which we say we don’t like, rather than to give it on conditions which would, in the first place, be resented and subsequently evaded ... I also have misgivings about basing our relief policy on the principle that we give aid to democratic states and withhold it from totalitarian ones. The distinction is sometimes an embarrassing one for us.’4 Riddell’s pragmatic, humanitarian views closely aligned with those of Pearson.

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In providing instructions to the Canadian delegation at the United Nations on the question of post-UNRRA relief policy, Pearson altered the emphasis of Smith’s draft both to fit its themes with his own longheld beliefs and to recognize the concerns raised by Riddell. Abhorring the possibility that international aid could be used as a political weapon, Pearson preferred that relief be granted solely on the basis of demonstrable financial need. He recommended that Canada generally support what the American delegation was thought likely to advance but also press for some form of international coordinating machinery in matters of relief. ‘My view is that relief is required in 1947 ... there should be some international supervision over the whole question, both in order to minimize political considerations and to ensure that a disproportionate share of the burden is not borne by any one country.’5 Pearson, well aware of King’s political caution towards international aid as an unwanted political complication, tailored his argument accordingly. The circumspection proved well-founded. After Louis St Laurent, then the secretary of state for external affairs, met the prime minister in New York, the theme of financial restraint figured more prominently in the Canadian delegation’s final instructions. The fear was that, in the absence of the United States, which had provided some 70 per cent of the financial contributions for UNRRA, the Canadian government would find itself obligated to an international relief enterprise where it would have to shoulder a major portion of the cost. But Canada’s overall strategy of pressuring the Americans to accept a broader international forum for relief, even a consultative committee of supplier nations, faltered. At the end of October 1946, Pearson was dismayed to learn that the United States wanted to initiate talks on bilateral relief requirements for 1947 as soon as possible, ‘preferably on a high level.’6 He warned the newly appointed Canadian ambassador to the United States, Hume Wrong, to avoid making any specific relief commitments for 1947 on Canada’s behalf: ‘It is one thing to participate in the United Nations relief effort; it is quite another to associate ourselves with the U.S. and U.K. exclusively in any arrangement; especially as U.S. relief policies now seem to be determined to a considerable extent by political considerations.’7 Pearson realized that abandoning Canada’s support of multilateral discussions in favour of bilateral or tripartite relief ones would destroy its potential bargaining strength at the forthcoming General Assembly discussions and leave Ottawa vulnerable to unwanted financial commitments. Yet he also recognized the dangers involved in distancing Canada from the United States. ‘The

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alternative to accepting responsibility as a part of a United Nations effort,’ in Pearson’s opinion, ‘is for Canada to do what it thinks best as the situation develops.’8 St Laurent and Mackenzie King heartily approved of Pearson’s warning to the Canadian ambassador. Given how importantly the United States figured in Canadian postwar foreign policy, Pearson had nonetheless approved the idea, providing no commitments were made, that Robert Bryce, then with the Department of Finance, represent Canada in Washington in the proposed high-level talks with his counterparts in the State Department. These talks convinced Bryce that the United States would not support a multilateral approach under the aegis of the United Nations. His recommendation that Canada contribute between twenty and thirty million dollars to a tripartite relief scheme was the first time anyone within the Canadian government had put a figure on possible aid costs for the next fiscal year. For the moment, however, Bryce suggested that the Canadian delegation to the United Nations continue to press for an international relief agency.9 Pearson simply was not prepared to concede defeat at this point, especially in light of Hume Wrong’s report that, at the highest levels of the U.S. State Department, Dean Acheson, then undersecretary of state, was ‘not as completely opposed as William Clayton the American Under Secretary of State for Economic Affairs to some form of international action.’10 The possibility of Canada strenuously advocating the creation of an international forum for a cooperative approach to relief requirements was becoming increasingly complicated. Clayton exerted considerable pressure on both Canada and Britain to agree on a fixed percentage of the 1947 relief costs, claiming that their participation was vital for securing any appropriation from the United States Congress.11 British officials, however, had indicated that they eagerly anticipated a reduction in Britain’s share of the financial costs of any trilateral relief scheme for 1947.12 Whether any relief scheme was to be trilateral or multilateral, the Canadian government’s caution largely stemmed from the concern over how much it would have to pay. In early November, UNRRA’s director general, Fiorello La Guardia, stirred the pot by proposing the creation of a United Nations Emergency Food Fund of some four to five million dollars. This proposal would inevitably be supported by the Soviet Union, ‘thus throwing upon the United Nations the onus of appearing to refuse any recognition to the needs of deficit countries and to intend to use food supplies as a political weapon.’13 Given that it would be far too embarrassing for

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Canada to join the Soviet Union and Eastern European countries in backing a resolution that would be certainly opposed by the United States and Britain, the Canadian delegation was instructed ‘to abstain in principle, although Canada is in favour of an international agency.’14 Without the support of the United States and Britain, the two major supplier countries, the La Guardia resolution was not feasible. In brief, there was no question of where Canada would stand: it would line up squarely with its democratic allies, the United States and Great Britain. Ottawa attempted to avoid commitments that might destroy Canada’s general diplomatic capacity or specific ability to manoeuvre in the future on the question of post-UNRRA relief. The Canadian delegation to the United Nations discussed the specific strategy it should pursue in meetings on 15 and 16 November 1946. As a politician, Paul Martin, Sr, minister of health and national welfare, who represented the Canadian government at these debates, was astutely aware of the sacrifice that Canada had made to meet its obligations to UNRRA and the possibility that the issue of post-war relief would complicate federal-provincial relations and undermine the Liberal Party’s electoral support as peacetime priorities replaced wartime cooperation. In his memoirs, however, he recalled that ‘the nub of the problem lay in the method of meeting the expected relief needs in 1947 and not in the amount of money per se.’ He acknowledged that ‘UNRRA was turning into something of an octopus’ but believed that ‘every member of the United Nations should be able to make some contribution, however minimal, to the projected relief needs for 1947.’15 St Laurent interpreted the cabinet instructions as meaning that the government of Canada would assume its fair share of any relief obligations, if the General Assembly decided to solve the post-UNRRA relief problems by creating an international organization under the auspices of the United Nations. The delegation, however, was in no way to press for the establishment of such an organization. The Canadian delegation was divided between those who believed that the wisest course would be to say nothing during the debate and those who felt that Canada, as the third-largest contributor to UNRRA, could not remain silent and, by participating, might be able ‘to pave the way for a compromise solution.’16 When the debate occurred, the majority of the delegates who participated in it favoured continued relief through an international agency. The United States and Britain vigorously championed the benefits of bilateral aid. The United States initially argued that world economic conditions

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had improved to the point where some countries which had formerly received aid from UNRRA were now in a position to export their goods again. Those still requiring aid would be best served by the simpler, more direct method of bilateral aid. When Martin pointed out in his speech to the delegates on 16 November that the basic issue was not whether aid was required in 1947 but how it was to be administered,17 the United States made it clear that it had no intention of allowing other nations to use American food as a political weapon contrary to the interests of the United States. American officials had been critical of the alleged abuses and inequalities that had characterized UNRRA’s distribution practices, and they were especially disparaging of the idea of granting further aid to countries that were diverting scarce resources to the building and maintenance of armies. Behind these public pronouncements lay the looming issue of the division of Europe. During a series of exhaustive debates in the latter part of November, Martin attempted to bridge the serious differences that blocked the way forward. In the meantime, he publicly reiterated that Canada could not regard any relief agency as truly international in form and scope if the two major supplier nations, the United States and Britain, were not prepared to participate. Until a solution was found, he resisted any vote that would force Canada to straddle the middle position and potentially destroy its flexibility to foster a compromise resolution. Pearson shared Martin’s increasing alarm that, without the participation of the two major supplier nations, Canada ‘might be expected to make a larger contribution to that fund than otherwise would be the case’ and that the subsequent distribution of the funds ‘would involve grave difficulties.’18 As Martin later wrote in his memoirs, if Britain and the United States did not join the relief effort, ‘the agency would probably be dominated by the USSR, which would use our resources almost exclusively for relief in Eastern Europe.’19 This was a situation Canada was determined to avoid. Just when it seemed that a stalemate was likely, the United States signalled that a middle ground might be found. Martin wired Ottawa early in December seeking instructions on a compromise resolution that the United States wanted Canada to sponsor on its behalf. The Americans were now willing to accept the formation of a technical committee of experts whose role would be to examine and make recommendations on the import requirements of countries requiring food aid in 1947. Pearson, believing that ‘this would be a useful initiative on our part,’ moved quickly to reassure Mackenzie King that Canada’s finan-

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cial position would be adequately protected by making it clear that acceptance of the resolution did not signify any commitment to contribute relief.20 Despite Pearson’s assurances, King’s approval came with the caveat that the only obligation the Canadian government was prepared to incur at this stage was a moral one.21 Canada’s willingness to sponsor this resolution helped to avert a showdown over relief at the General Assembly. Even better from the Canadian government’s perspective was the possibility that the proposed internationalist solution protected the fiscal and political integrity of Canada’s aid program while recognizing the limitations that domestic political conditions imposed upon both U.S. and British participation. Canada, therefore, had ample reasons of its own to accept Fiorello La Guardia’s dramatic challenge to Martin: ‘I will take any compromise offered by the delegate from Canada sight unseen. I will take my proposal and tear it up.’22 Nothing could have suited Canada’s purpose better and in the end that was precisely what happened. Martin responded to the director general’s challenge on 7 December by sponsoring an amendment calling for the formation of a technical committee of experts who would report to the secretary general of the United Nations by 15 January 1947. Their report would then be forwarded to member governments. Martin seized the opportunity to reiterate Canada’s position: ‘We take the view that no organization would be international in scope and in form in this particular matter if the United States and the United Kingdom withdrew their membership and action.’23 The amended American compromise secured final approval on 11 December 1946. Canada became a member of the expanded Special Technical Committee, composed of one expert from each of ten countries. Canadian diplomacy had secured a qualified measure of success that safeguarded the country’s political and fiscal independence. Martin himself later acknowledged, however, that this solution ‘had the effect of maintaining an international façade after the closing down of UNRRA.’24 There would be an international forum for the assessment of relief requirements in 1947 on the basis of need and avowedly free of political considerations. It was a face-saving solution, at best a reprieve, which failed to prevent bilateral aid governed by political considerations from becoming the wave of the future. Moreover, the limits of Canadian influence were clearly revealed. Canadian diplomacy could foster international cooperation only within the constraints imposed by superpower diplomacy.

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Canada’s attitude towards the question of post-UNRRA relief was determined by several considerations. In the first place, the Canadian government had concluded that its participation in an international aid program that did not include the two largest contributors to UNRRA, the United States and Britain, was not financially feasible. Financial considerations, however, were not the only factors determining Canadian policy. Canada backed the American decision to terminate UNRRA because it shared the American belief that UNRRA’s administration had become too unwieldy. This was the logical outgrowth of Canada’s identification with the broad goals and values of post-war American foreign policy and the wartime alliance. Indeed, Canada’s traditional friendship with the United States and Britain made an alliance with the Soviet Union against the United States on aid inconceivable; the Americans were seen as close friends and allies who were vital to post-war Canadian economic prosperity and security. Public opinion in Canada would never have supported a decision to support the Soviet Union against the United States and the Canadian government did not for a minute contemplate such an action – particularly not after a Russian cipher clerk named Igor Gouzenko fled the Soviet embassy in Ottawa on 5 September 1945 with documents proving the existence of a Soviet spy ring in Canada, revelations that reverberated throughout the world and helped to ignite the Cold War. Yet Canada’s vigorous efforts to promote a compromise solution on relief indicate that, even with a negative image of the Soviet Union, Canadian officials still believed that a negotiated settlement was possible. Furthermore, Canadians were not oblivious to the weaknesses of American foreign policy in this era. They worked diligently to have post-UNRRA relief administered by some form of international body in order to avoid the excessive domestic political pressures that were sure to accompany bilateral aid. But Canadian diplomats were realists and they accepted the limitations imposed upon American foreign policy by the growing anti-communist forces within the U.S. Congress. Canadian diplomacy aimed to ameliorate the worst manifestations of American anti-communism by attempting to prevent any further deterioration in East-West relations which might strengthen the position of hard-line critics of the Soviet Union in the United States. This was the purpose of the compromise to preserve at least some semblance of international cooperation. If Canada was suspicious of Soviet intentions, the Canadian government was also anxious to avoid being too closely identified with the tough approach to international aid being advocated by some

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American politicians, especially those who claimed that aid to the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe was being abused. From the Canadian perspective, a multilateral forum for determining internationalaid requirements offered an opportunity for independent appraisal and initiative.25 Overall, both in respect to aid given under UNRRA’s umbrella and later in determining its position on post-UNRRA relief, Ottawa adopted a cautious and realistic approach to the pursuit of national interest that was based upon a sound assessment of Canada’s interests and capabilities. And, while Canada never acted from a totally disinterested perspective, there was always a healthy dose of humanitarianism in the policy advocated by politicians like Claxton, Pearson, and Martin. Canada would play a modest but responsible role in what would be the forerunner of repeated future attempts, over the decades to come, to shape a relief program aimed at ensuring political freedom and economic opportunity to counter widespread instability in large parts of the world. UNRRAIDS: Advocates for New Canadians From her Ottawa office, it had become apparent to Grace Hyndman, the Canadian civil servant in charge of postings for former Canadian UNRRAIDS, that something needed to be done to restrain the growing number of people who ‘seem to feel that it is their mission to clarify the plight of the DP’s to the Immigration Committee, Department and members of Parliament or any one else who may have influence in shaping the policy.’ The Reverend Ian Mackay, William Lightall, William O’Hara, Austin Bailey, and Thomas Keenan were only a few of those who had descended on Ottawa to exploit personal contacts with politicians or the press. While she lauded their humanitarian concern, Hyndman remained worried that ‘the presentation of conflicting or differing stories to these influential sources may confuse and deter rather than help the situation.’ During his second visit to Ottawa in February 1947, for example, McKay ‘supplied a good deal of data to a C.C.F member, who rather forced the hand of the Minister, Mr. Glenn, into a tentative declaration of immigration policy whereby certain categories of relatives of Canadian citizens are to be admitted to the Dominion.’ From Hyndman’s perspective, the real problem was that ‘UNRRA seems to have bred really rugged individualists and certainly each would prefer to be the one to carry the torch’ rather than leave it to Tho-

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mas Keenan, UNRRA’s semi-official representative on Canadian immigration policy. Hyndman asked UNRRA headquarters to advise Canadian employees who were soon to be terminated that ‘the plight of the DP.s has already been put before the Canadian authorities in the hope of speeding up a broader immigration. This, she hoped, might slow down their missionary zeal to come and try to influence the government personally.’ An examination of the Canadian UNRRAIDS’ campaign to open Canada’s doors to those left behind in the camps in Europe highlights the complexity of the political, economic, and racial factors that contributed to the development of Canadian post-war immigration policy. With regard to Keenan, though Hyndman thought that UNRRAIDS should leave immigration matters to him, she did not particularly care for the fervour with which he executed his self-appointed mission and, personally, she would ‘never have selected him for the Diplomatic Corps.’ Still, she conceded that ‘he is enthusiastic and energetic and will probably get results.’26 Keenan seized upon a chance meeting with sugar-beet growers on the train to Ottawa to sell them on the idea of sponsoring immigrant workers to deal with the shortage of agricultural labour and offered his assistance in lobbying the Canadian government to this end. Later, in Ottawa, he acted as a broker between the two groups, wining and dining Senator Cairine Wilson and other parliamentarians and immigration officials engaged in reviewing Canada’s current immigration policy. He especially enjoyed courting the press and giving personal interviews based upon his time as the UNRRA camp director at Lübeck. The following excerpt from his report of 17 February 1947 typifies his whirlwind activities. Upon his return from Chatham, where he had spoken to the Commodity Producers Council, whose members ‘represented a full season demand for a great deal of labour,’ he had ‘tea with B.K. Sandwell of Saturday Night and ate supper with Wilson Woodside, C.B.C. commentator, and then finished the evening with Mr. Davidson [representative from the Department of Labour] who had been at the Chatham Meeting. To-morrow, I am having lunch with a Conservative Member of Parliament.’ Keenan adopted a pragmatic approach to lobbying and primarily focused his efforts on converting the deputy minister of labour, McNamara, ‘who has fallen between the two schools of “directed labour” and “contract labour” towards the former.’27 Keenan believed that there ‘is still the faint hope that Mr McNamara may be persuaded to accept family groups of D.P.s to come to houses provided on sugar

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beet land as directed labour without a full year contract.’ In his opinion, there ‘is not the slightest doubt that there is plenty of work for these people on other crops and there is not the least danger of their failing to get a full year’s contract signed for them before they leave Europe.’28 Obviously, Keenan enjoyed the limelight and may have been reluctant to share it with Wing Commander William Lightall, who had preceded him as director at Lübeck, but other factors contributed to the personal rivalry. Although Keenan’s newspaper articles would eloquently sing the praises of the Baltic groups with whom he had worked in Lübeck, in all his dealing with the Canadian government, he ‘stuck to the policy of no discrimination in race or creed’ and declared that ‘Canadian officials are unanimous in their support of this policy.’29 He was consequently dismayed to learn that B.K. Sandwell, editor-in-chief of Saturday Night magazine, was planning to sponsor Lightall’s speaking tour. ‘It is true,’ he acknowledged, ‘that Lightall has some ability as a platform speaker but I have known him in Germany to be a man of violent racial prejudice.’ There is no doubt that Lightall was an ardent spokesmen for the Baltic groups, just as there is little doubt that Keenan was most likely the source of Grace Hyndman’s negative impression of the wing commander, who, she claimed, ‘is alleged to have been given promotions in UNRRA for inefficiency.’30 While, as Hyndman had noted, Keenan preferred to be the torch-bearer, he was genuinely passionate in his efforts during his time in Ottawa to broaden Canadian immigration policy and to promote the provision of adequate adulteducation programs to encourage the successful integration of new Canadians into Canadian society.31 Although Keenan was convinced that, ‘as a result of our Ottawa mission, a larger number of DP.s will move to Canada’ and claimed to have had ‘repeated assurances of approval from the Cabinet, from Senators and from highly-placed officials of the Canadian Government regarding my mission to Ottawa,’ his activities drew considerable criticism from all sides.32 He overstated his role as UNRRA’s representative to Ottawa on immigration policy, parlaying his one-week visit into a three-week semi-official stay. In his enthusiasm to influence Ottawa’s policy makers, he embellished his military rank, from sergeant to colonel – a move that Hyndman believed was ‘indicative of his general tactics in trying to put himself across.’33 On a subsequent trip to Washington, Hyndman learned that UNRRA Director General Lowell Rooks ‘rather regretted having approved Keenan’s coming to Ottawa for a week’; he had done his best to curtail the former UNRRAID’s

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activities but ‘could do little since he [Keenan] was continuing on his own time and was no longer being paid by UNRRA except on a leave basis.’ Since his voluminous reports were not even being read in Washington, Hyndman certainly had no intention of providing him with secretarial and office space any longer, especially after he had abused the privilege by fraudulently obtaining a key to use the offices over the weekend unsupervised.34 More seriously, UNRRA officials and the Canadian representative on the Intergovernmental Refugee Committee believed that Keenan’s statements were misleading. UNRRA’s Administration in Washington headquarters was disturbed to discover, for example, that during his meeting with the Canadian minister of mines and resources, he appeared to extend assurances that UNRRA could provide the Canadian government with records of its political screening of displaced persons. Since UNRRA screened for only eligibility, the Administration could not have handed over ‘its political files’ to the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.35 UNRRA denied Keenan’s request to prolong his stay in Ottawa beyond three weeks and ordered him to report to Washington so that it could proceed with his termination. Keenan, however, would become the champion of another, even more far-fetched group-immigration scheme, code-named ‘operation Beaver Brigade’ – this time on behalf of Ukrainian immigrants. While Keenan’s lobbying tactics were somewhat unconventional and the results mixed at best, his efforts were the precursor of other more coordinated efforts to liberalize post-war Canadian immigration policy. In order to prepare a brief to the Senate Committee on Immigration, the national secretary of the Canadian Association of Social Workers (CASW) wrote to twenty of its members serving abroad with UNRRA. Concerned that its members had been overseas long enough to be out of touch with Canadian’s current preoccupations with respect to increased immigration, the secretary included in her letter a series of questions as guidelines for responses. Members were asked to stress the economic benefits rather than the humanitarian aspects of opening Canada’s doors to displaced persons from Europe. They were also encouraged to point out why displaced persons would make excellent Canadian citizens. Finally, the secretary requested that members provide their opinions as to which nationalities should be encouraged to settle here. None hesitated in adding their voices to support the idea of Canada admitting more deserving displaced persons from Europe as new immigrants. The former provincial welfare visitor of British Columbia, Berna Holt, expressed the widespread belief among Canadian UNRRA

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workers that the adversity faced by the displaced persons during and after the war ‘will make them more adaptable as immigrants’ than other prospective groups.36 Harriet Selby, having returned to take up her new job in the Department of Veteran Affairs, also stressed: ‘It was courage which carried them through their years of suffering and has enabled them to adjust under very difficult circumstances. It would, in addition, carry them through the adjustment in a new land ... It would be well if we remember that these people are not, of necessity, dregs of humanity but are in the main people with intelligence, fine characteristics and with a definite contribution to make to whatever land they are taken.’37 From Area Team 1069, Traunstein, Germany, Jean Henshaw wrote on 13 May 1947, expressing the hope that ‘you are able to convince the powers that be that Canadian doors should be open.’ As in her earlier published articles, she emphasized the ‘complete transition from dependency to self government’ she had witnessed in the camps. ‘The background of the DP,’ she maintained, ‘has developed a compelling anxiety to work, to create things through their own efforts, to settle in a permanent home where they may develop roots and belong ... Thus the D.P. would make better citizens for any country because of their unusual appreciation of home and country and their willingness to work to achieve their goals.’38 Margaret Newton Kilpatrick wrote from her final posting with the child-search team at Manheim that ‘after her experience over here it is my sincere belief that the majority of displaced persons could make good Canadian citizens.’39 Eileen Pumple, a former caseworker, had been overseas with the Red Cross when she joined UNRRA and she was still there serving as an area welfare officer in Germany when she wrote back: ‘We Canadians in the field are at a loss to understand the reluctance on the part of the Canadian government to take advantage of this golden opportunity to increase the population and add immensely to the economic and cultural development of the country.’40 Gabrielle Patry, who had served as a welfare officer at all levels of UNRRA’s operations, including accompanying a U.S. Army screening team as UNRRA wound down, expressed her belief that ‘several thousands of these DP.s of different nationalities would be assets to our country, and would make very good citizens. They will appreciate their Country of Adoption because they “know” what it is to be without a country.’ She was ‘strongly in favor of opening Canadian immigration to DP.s’ who, after surviving great sufferings, ‘had hoped and expected so much from the Armistice, whose very hopes kept them alive, and for many of whom, the end of war still meant living in a

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camp! They do not want relief ... They want a chance to live a normal life and do their share in this world. If one wants to be practical, why not consider the nefarious influence thousands of embittered persons could have in central Europe? ... Canada cannot let them down!’41 There was greater diversity in the responses as to whether any one nationality should be given preference. In most cases, each writer championed the cause of those national groups with whom she had worked most closely. Ethel Ostry and Charity Grant made poignant appeals on behalf of the Jewish displaced persons, irrespective of nationality. Not surprisingly, Henshaw made a special case for the children. She was extremely critical of the current selection process used for the ‘Specialist Program.’ This was, she said, ‘a decidedly selfish method which does not commend itself to me. It would automatically eliminate many of the most desirable people whose sense of responsibility did not permit them to abandon to an uncertain fate their parents and less favoured relatives.’ In considering persons for admission to Canada, Henshaw believed that ‘nationality and skills as well as personality qualifications should be the deciding factor rather than religion.’42 Some, like Sarah Rhinewine, who had a wider exposure to different nationality groups, deplored nationality as a basis for selecting Canada’s future citizens. During her fourteen months with UNRRA in Germany as a child-welfare officer in several camps, she had an opportunity to work with Balts, Poles, Ukrainians, and Jews. She fully supported the position that ‘every Displaced Person will make a contribution to Canadian economic and cultural life’ but ‘strongly objected to the idea that just certain national groups will fit in easier into Canadian life. I therefore cannot say that a particular national group will make better citizens than another group. I can only subscribe to an immigration policy which determines the entry into Canada irrespective of nationality or creed.’43 Other Canadian social workers heartily agreed: ‘Our members appeared quite disturbed over continual references in the press and otherwise to certain nationalities being more preferable as potential Canadian citizens and they thought that this race discrimination is deplorable,’ Catherine Sabine wrote. ‘Continuance of such a policy gives rise only to hatred and contributes to war psychology.’44 Irene Page, who had just returned from her work in UNRRA, joined forces with those who argued that ‘any Canadian Immigration policy for Displaced Persons based upon supposed national traits would not be intelligent and would be dangerous.’45 Still others, like Berna Holt, rejected nationality as the primary selec-

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tion criterion but recommended that future Canadian immigration policy be ‘based on professions and skills rather than on nationality.’46 She developed a skills-based nationality hierarchy for admission based upon her extensive experience with displaced persons in assembly centres and her recent involvement in the initial screening process to determine eligibility of applicants for immigration to Canada under the ‘Close Relatives Scheme.’ Using these ‘objective’ criteria, she – like many of the other Canadian UNRRA welfare officers – found the Baltic people to be particularly attractive as prospective immigrants. Margaret Newton Kilpatrick, too, extolled the virtues of the Balts : ‘One cannot enter a Baltic Camp without wondering what they could do in our economy of abundance when they have built excellent trade schools, wonderful handi-craft shops, furniture manufacturing plants out of material gleaned by their own hands out of heaps of junk and debris.’47 Eileen Pumple also wrote of how ‘the Balts impressed us in the field with their cultural development and organizational ability.’48 Canadian UNRRA workers were genuinely impressed with the many accomplishments of the Balts, particularly given that these people were enduring a level of hardship and economic chaos beyond what most Canadians could even imagine; equally, they sought to champion the cause of those displaced-persons groups who would have a difficult time qualifying under the ‘Close Relative Scheme’ or more specialized programs then under consideration. For similar reasons, social workers like Pumple were prepared to appeal to Canadians’ more selfish side if it achieved their purpose of encouraging immigration: ‘Among D.P.s is every conceivable artisan, tradesman, professional and business man as well as an unknown number of unskilled laborers. This gold mine of potential economic expansion is waiting to be exploited to put it coldly and bluntly.’49 These letters became the basis of a presentation by the CASW’s former president (1944–5), and now executive director, Joy Maines, on behalf of the organization before the Senate Standing Committee on Immigration and Labour on 25 June 1947. Afterwards, as she confided to former UNRRAID Irene Page, it was difficult for her to assess the impact of the presentation on the committee members, although she believed that the brief ‘was received very well.’ As usual, she looked to Senator Arthur Roebuck and Senator Cairine Wilson for support as ‘two who knew what social workers were, and why they had something to say.’ Yet, however professional the CASW’s brief, it could not completely overcome the paternalism of that learned body. ‘Dear old

338 Life after UNRRA

Senator [James] Murdock,’ she told her friend, ‘was glad to have the “ladies” before the committee – he was the chairman, and patted my arm quite frequently.’50 Other Canadians who had worked with UNRRA also appeared before the Senate committee. While their stories varied according to their individual experiences, there were common threads in their testimony. All endorsed a non-discriminatory post-war immigration policy that would welcome displaced persons from Europe as future Canadian citizens. The Reverend Ian Mackay had been a padre with the Royal Canadian Air Force before serving as an UNRRA field supervisor for the Hanover area in the British Zone of Germany. Although he was not a social worker by training, ‘his welfare work in Hanover Region was of the highest quality.’51 No stranger to the lobbyist circuit, he had already given public speeches and pressed politicians to take action to relieve the plight of displaced persons. But, during the course of his public addresses, he had found ‘the people in Canada to be totally ignorant of the problem and type of people that we have been dealing with in Germany.’52 His reading of a letter from a fellow welfare worker gave the senators a first-hand account of the deterioration of living conditions and the dismal future prospects of the displaced persons who remained in the camps: During the early months of the winter, most of our D.P.s were shunted unmercifully around the country under a plan to hand back as much accommodation as possible to house [German ] refugees [fleeing from Poland]. Necessary but hardly humane as some of them suffered as much as five moves in three months. Repatriation in this region topped the zone, and some heavy wars went on to maintain a reasonable standard in repatriation trains. Repatriation was finally stopped until the weather improved just after Christmas, because several people were frozen to death ... As the Germans take over more and more responsibility for their own economy, the effort to maintain any D.P.’s rights, if you can call them that is intensified.53

Mackay made it blatantly clear to the senators that many of the displaced persons had decided to commit suicide if they were forcibly repatriated behind the Iron Curtain. He believed that Canada could accept people and was morally obliged to do so. Yet, despite his professed belief that ‘if we cannot place them in jobs immediately ... the Canadian people are big enough and great enough to assume that

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responsibility,’ most of his testimony attempted to allay the concern that immigrants would become a public charge.54 He provided detailed information on the skills and occupations of the displaced persons and pointed out that, if Canada took its fair quota of skilled farmers and ‘placed them on some of the vacant farms in the Maritimes provinces, it would solve the problem ... although the houses are not in good condition, they are much better houses than the people are living in and I think that you would see a big difference in a short time.’55 The committee was sufficiently impressed by his presentation to suggest arranging a direct meeting with Prime Minister King and leaders of the opposition parties, John Bracken and M.J. Coldwell. William Van Ark, who had been an UNRRA assembly centre director for fourteen months and had later joined the staff of the IRO, also testified before the Senate committee on 11 February 1948. Two years earlier, when Van Ark had been unable to appear in person at the 1946 hearings, it was Senator Roebuck who read his brief on the condition of the displaced persons in the camps. In that brief, Van Ark emphasized that ‘their physical rehabilitation is complete now and men and women are fit to do heavy manual labour,’ and he portrayed the Polish displaced persons as ‘democratic, deeply religious, frugal, hard working people would make ideal settlers for the Canadian West.’ He also stressed that it was in Canada’s self-interest to welcome these Polish people: ‘Their needs are few, easily satisfied but their contribution as labourers in the field of construction and agriculture in the forests are of utmost importance to Canada today.’56 In his 1948 testimony, Van Ark again emphasized: ‘You are getting a type who will realize what citizenship means. You have a type of people who are at once on the high level that we are striving to attain for all our people. You want people who will live as citizens in the fullest sense of the word. There they are waiting; rotting away in the camp.’57 On 4 February 1948 Jean Henshaw took a somewhat different tact, appearing before the committee completely attired in an outfit made by the displaced persons in her predominantly Jewish camp. Although most of her testimony centered on her experience of working with unaccompanied children, she reassured the committee members that displaced persons ‘from a human point of view ... are no different from you and I.’58 And she took advantage of her outfit to highlight their industriousness and artistic skills: ‘These people can do almost anything and would be valuable assets to any country. They are clever at making costume jewellery, woodworking and so on. They reclaim bits

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of airplanes, and anything at all that they can obtain. They can turn to good use things that we would consider of almost no value at all. Their skill is almost incredible.’59 Those who could not appear in person before the committee sent letters in support of broadening Canadian immigration policy. These letters were tabled during the proceedings. The one from George Mooney, UNRRA’s executive secretary and chief executive officer, read into evidence by Senator Cairine Wilson, singled out members of the Jewish community as bound to make good Canadian citizens, providing that ‘some responsible agency or individual is prepared to assume care for them for a reasonable period of time and direct them to a means of livelihood ... I believe that a reasonable number should be permitted entry to Canada with a view of becoming citizens.’60 Not unexpectedly, Thomas Keenan, writing from Meadowbank Ranch in British Columbia to share his experiences ‘working with thousands of these displaced persons’ as an assembly centre director, embellished his role earlier that year: ‘I gave the Canadian Government first hand field information regarding displaced persons for the immigration program of Canada.’ Focusing on his time as the UNRRA officer in charge of screening at Kiel, Germany, Keenan went into extensive detail about ‘S day operation’ to demonstrate ‘that the officers responsible for UNRRA’s activities in Germany have done a job of work in attempting to separate friend from foe so that to-day Canada can freely accept any displaced persons from UNRRA Assembly Centres and feel that it is not getting collaborators who have given comfort to the enemy.’ Taking great pains to demonstrate that the displaced persons now remaining in UNRRA assembly centres could not be voluntarily repatriated to their native countries, Keenan pressed the urgency of dealing with the situation because there has been ‘a steady deterioration in the conditions of life of the Displaced Persons.’ He also provided the senators with three reasons why ‘the men, women and children in our UNRRA Assembly Centres should be given top priority in any immigration policy that may be framed for the Dominion of Canada.’ Although he appealed to ‘our economic need’ as the first ground ‘on which I urge the value of the displaced persons in any immigration policy,’ he believed that considerations of morality were also important: ‘We owe the greatest moral debt to those who were dying on the ramparts of freedom before the Canadian people realized that Canada’s frontier was on the Rhine.’ On strictly moral grounds, Keenan argued that top priority be given to the concentration-camp survivors, who, he

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felt, also ‘had much to recommend them from other points of view.’ And, finally, he drew attention to the cultural contribution that these people could make to Canada: ‘Our cultural need for the best that Europe has to offer is the third group on which I urge that we accept Displaced Persons [the Estonians, Latvians, and Lithuanians] who need no instruction in democratic citizenship.’ For those who did not fit into the restricted Canadian immigration policy without a specially planned scheme, Keenan suggested creating camps of artisans from these groups, under the code name of ‘Operation Beaver,’ because ‘there are so many of these displaced persons, who would be self employed with their own arts and crafts. They would be working like beavers producing things of utility and beauty out of native Canadian materials.’ He was quick to assure senators that displaced persons would ‘not come here expecting to carry on in their own businesses or professions.’ In fact, he proposed that the terms of admission to Canada state that ‘they are not being given authority to practice the business or profession for which they had been trained ... and ... that they are prepared to return to Germany without question, if in the opinion of the officials concerned, they have failed to find a niche for themselves in Canada.’ Keenan knew that the memory of widespread unemployment following the First World War still haunted the Canadian political scene in Ottawa. Accordingly, his argument was cleverly geared to appeal to Canadian senators on both economic and humanitarian grounds. His time at Lübeck had taught him valuable lessons about the politics of bureaucracy. Practical arguments prevailed over lofty idealism.61 Conclusion The Senate committee’s recommendations endorsed the more progressive views towards immigration espoused by former Canadian UNRRAIDS. But the real impetus for change came from the ‘dramatic shift among business and political interests towards large scale immigration ... Canadian immigration officials became interested in recruiting young hard-working labourers from Europe to replenish the country’s labour supply, particularly in the extractive industry.’62 Even organized labour, which had frequently opposed substantial influxes of newcomers in the past, offered little resistance. There is no doubt that, as a group, Canadians who had worked with UNRRA abroad were more enthusiastic supporters of an expansionist and non-discriminatory post-war Canadian immigration than main-

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stream Canadian society. Their testimony and letters demonstrate their genuine humanitarian desire to see beyond the scars left by the Holocaust. In presenting their case, they adopted language to assuage Canadians’ fears while appealing to their economic self-interest. Serving with UNRRA had imprinted on their minds the necessity of working within the political confines of what was possible to achieve. That said, their practicality should not detract from the strength or sincerity of their advocacy on behalf of the displaced persons, whose adaptability, courage, and will to survive they had come to admire. Canadian immigration policy never became as liberal as many former UNRRAIDS had recommended. At the war’s end, Canada’s immigration gates remained largely closed to Europe’s war victims. The Canadian government issued an order-in-council in June 1950 that only slightly lowered the barriers to immigration, retained the preference for British, Irish, French, and American immigrants, and widened the admissible classes of European immigrants to include any healthy applicant of good character who had skills needed in Canada and who could easily integrate into Canadian society. The federal government’s immigration policy remained linked to Canadian labour requirements and ethnic prejudices. Enlightened self-interest, then, continued to guide Canadian international aid and immigration policy beyond the UNRRA years. Moreover, in determining its approach on these issues, Ottawa’s conservatism and caution indicated that it had neither abandoned its traditional alliances or trading priorities nor overcome its fear that war-induced security and prosperity would prove transient.

12 Legacies

Collectively and individually, Canadians were profoundly changed by their years of international service, an experience that had caused many to reassess Canada’s social policy at home and the terms and expectations for the country’s continued involvement in international humanitarian organizations. Those who worked closely with the displaced persons were sobered by UNRRA’s impotence with shelter and resettlement needs and many remained unconvinced that its successor, the International Refugee Organization, would fare any better unless nations like Canada changed their immigration policies. Many healthcare and social workers also recognized, not only that ‘new Canadians’ would require specialized social services to help them adjust to Canadian society, but that their own professions would need to adapt their educational standards and become more active participants in the development of social policies in post-war Canada. Few returning UNRRAIDS had any illusions that future United Nations humanitarian organizations would easily achieve program delivery on non-discriminatory religious, gender, or racial terms, but expectations had been raised that these would be the ethical norms against which Canadian foreign policy should be charted, at least at the level of public discourse. Canadians remained active participants in the creation of postwar global institutions and would continue to view themselves as leading internationalists. Open Hearts, Closed Doors Many Canadian UNRRAIDS could not erase the memories of those left behind in the refugee camps. Thomas Davidson expressed the sentiments of many Canadians who believed that ‘the money that has been

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used for UNRRA in the last twelve months has been wasted because they have kept these people in camps where they are today and their morale is going back to where it was when we found them, because there is no future for them.’1 He did not believe that any nation should ‘give one cent to the IRO to keep people in Germany.’ Instead, the nations of the world should open their doors. ‘In Canada what is another 100,000 people in all the land we have?’2 Davidson had already written to Constance Hayward, of the Canadian National Committee on Refugees, urging Canada to follow the lead of other countries and send someone to survey UNRRA camps so it could get first pick in the selection process.3 Back home, the Canadian government was trying to determine what its future immigration policy should be. Ironically, it was welfare experts, whose work Davidson had so vigorously denigrated, who would become some of the strongest exponents of liberalizing Canadian immigration policy. Others, such as Jean Henshaw, Elizabeth Brown, Irene Page, Marjorie Bradford, and Daphne P. Philips, lent their knowledge and expertise to UNRRA’s successor organizations. Still others worked for and in close association with Canadian voluntary agencies to find more permanent shelter and settlement for refugees from war, religious or ethnic persecution, or natural disasters. Several former UNRRAIDS joined Canadian immigration teams sent oversee to screen future Canadian citizens. Mabel Geldard-Brown and William Lightall were among those former Canadian UNRRAIDS who directly influenced the choice of Canada’s future citizens. In 1947, after Geldard-Brown left UNRRA, she continued her relief work for a while in Greece under the auspices of the Canadian Relief to Greece Appeal. Subsequently, she was hired as a displaced-persons specialist by the Department of Labour, where she worked on a scheme to assist the immigration of British women to Canada as domestic servants. As for Lightall, when he returned to Germany in 1948 to interview prospective immigrants for Canada, his enthusiasm about the Baltic peoples remained undiminished. ‘There are many Baltic orphans with no parents or home country to which they can go. They must be cleared out of Germany and Canada is the place that should take them and bring them up as good Canadian citizens.’ He added, ‘There are plenty of healthy families who want to come as groups and work on farms. They are healthy and hardworking and ready to enjoy living conditions as they find them until they are able to better themselves. Anything in Canada is so much better than the life here that they would welcome living in a barn if it were to lead

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to better conditions within a reasonable time.’ Lightall wanted the Canadian government to waive the immigration restrictions to permit Baltic families and family groups to enter Canada in addition ‘to the few labour groups that are being given entry permits now.’4 He became a tireless advocate on their behalf in Germany and promoted them as ideal prospective immigrants for a post-war Canada that viewed Eastern European immigrants with considerable suspicion. Like many other Canadian welfare workers who returned to Canada, Charity Grant sought to overcome Canadians’ negative stereotypes about European refugees. While she was looking for employment, she went on a public speaking tour throughout Ontario talking about her experience working with displaced persons and championing their suitability as future Canadian citizens. Eventually, she would join a Canadian immigration team sent abroad to bring displaced persons to Canada as domestic servants. As had been her practice as director of UNRRA’s Camp Eschweg, she was quite prepared to use some creative ingenuity to get around the bothersome red tape of the Canadian Immigration Branch, whose main concern, as she saw it, seemed to be preventing the displaced persons from becoming a public charge. For example, when a young woman, replying to a question regarding her religious affiliation, replied ‘Free Thinker,’ Grant translated this as ‘Unitarian’ because she knew that the young woman would never be accepted otherwise. After spending two years as a Canadian government immigration officer in Germany, Grant returned to Canada in 1952 and began working for the Unemployment Insurance Commission, handling welfare problems within the immigrant community. In 1954 she entered the University of Toronto, where she spent the next two years pursuing studies in social work. Upon graduation, she worked as a welfare visitor with the Department of Public Welfare for the city of Toronto until accepting a position in 1956 with the federal government’s Canadian Citizenship Branch, Department of Citizenship and Immigration. Years earlier, in April 1946, she had used her close connections within Ottawa’s political circles to plead the special case of the Jewish displaced persons in an elegant letter to Brooke Claxton: I don’t know how to describe what I feel. To work with people who have no future is the most humbling thing you can imagine. One’s own worries and troubles are picayune, childish. Concentration camp survivors are a new race of human beings. I wish Canada would offer to take a group of

346 Life after UNRRA Jewish children. So far no country has offered any permanent haven to any of them. Canada says it must play the part of a major power. Well let her show herself. Let her be the first to offer refuge to some of these children. I don’t think it would be possible to get Canada to open immigration to large numbers of refugees but it might take some children. We have thousands of orphans all of whom have no better place to go. And of course the sooner we were to offer to take them the better material for citizenship they would be because living in this country [Germany] is no place to learn good citizenship. I can’t tell you what it would mean to thousands of people to think that at long last one country had offered to take even a small group of children. It would give them hope that may some day they could start life again. It would be a really magnificent gesture.5

The Case for War Orphans: Ethel Ostry and Elizabeth Brown When it was obvious that international organizations would be slow or could not meet the desperate demands for resettlement, Canadians supported a number of settlement schemes, imploring their countrymen to open their hearts to the children of war. Celina Lieberman was one of the more than one thousand Jewish children who came to Canada as part of the War Orphans Project sponsored by the Canadian Jewish Congress. She later recounted her often harrowing experience of surviving the selection process and the initial days in her new country: Things began to move fast after that. Within two days I was put on a bus to Aglasterhausen, an UNRRA children’s centre, where we had classes, a choir and even produced a play, but all we cared about was the boat. Rumours flew everyday about the possibility of a boat. Our disappointment was palpable. We were all screened, medically and psychologically. You had to be under eighteen and healthy. I was the thirtieth one chosen. The grilling was phenomenal. They looked at our personality, health and character. I assume they didn’t want psychotics or sick people. There were weekly appointments with horrendous scrutiny. I always put a piece of bread into my pocket from dinner. The grownups told us we could always go to the dining room but I didn’t believe them. All the children had bread under their pillows. Our group was taken to Diepholz, Germany where we waited in hot and overcrowded dormitories. Finally one day we were taken to the port of Bremerhaven.

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I do not think that I expected much. I was without a family or a country and very little seemed to matter to me, I felt certain apathy. I reasoned that since I had already been someone else’s child, Helena’s, then I could be yet another person’s child in Canada. All I was told was that I was going to Regina, Saskatchewan, presumably to a Jewish family but I was not sure ... We arrived in Regina on a brilliantly sunny and cold day. We were met by several of the city’s ‘pillars of the community,’ who took us to breakfast. When we were served half-grapefruits, all we could do is look at them. We had never seen grapefruits before. None of us knew what to do with them. The community was very good to us. Sam Promislow took us to his dry goods store and told us to take whatever we needed. I remember picking up a hairbrush and Sam said, ‘No, no, let me show you where the brushes with the really good bristles are.’ At first I was placed with a horrible family. They would not comprehend things. My gorgeous dress from the Swiss Red Cross, that I never got to wear, had to be burned because they were so concerned about diseases. This was my first possession and they were taking it away! There were also much deeper things. They insisted that I call them mother and father, which was something I really didn’t feel like doing. I ran away from them and was placed with Ethel and Edward Basin and their daughter Paula, who was ten years younger than I was. The Basins were wonderful to me. I still have a prayer that I wrote on July 9, 1949 thanking God for them. Auntie Ethel never made me call her mother. She was very sensitive to my loss. We maintained a close relationship until the day she died. She became a grandmother to my children ... We orphans were not easily accepted by the other Canadian children. I do not think they were trying to be mean; I just think that they had no idea what to do with us. All they had to do was to simply say, ‘Let’s go for a walk,’ or ‘Come over to my house and let’s try on some make-up together.’ I wish that they had just behaved normally and let us enter their lives.6

Driven by their belief that, no matter what hardships the children experienced in Canada, they would have a better life here, former UNRRAIDS perhaps underestimated the social and cultural dislocation for young people who had already lived a lifetime of deprivation and heartache. Ethel Ostry was asked by the Canadian Jewish Congress to act as its representative in recommending applicants for the War Orphans project to the various Canadian immigration teams then working in Europe. It was a project close to her heart. ‘Thousands of Jewish children were lan-

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guishing as displaced persons throughout Europe. Most of them were in D.P. Centers, among adults, deprived of the barest material necessity and suffering for lack of educational and vocational opportunities.’ The program was thus ‘a great symbol of hope.’ Above all, it was an opening for these children ‘to get a footing in a country where they might have an opportunity of building life anew – where they might have a chance of forgetting the horrors of their past experience and where they might find warm and understanding friends, who could, at least in part, make up for the loss of their own family.’ After the children were selected from each of the UNRRA centres, Ostry personally interviewed each of the ones who were chosen to come to Canada. She found it a difficult task to contact all the applicants, requiring her to travel to all the Jewish refugee centres in Germany, Austria, and Italy. The Canadian project, however, came at an auspicious time, because no other practical plan for emigration yet existed. The question of children emigrating to Palestine was still under consideration by international authorities and even the United States had placed restrictions on the resettlement of children under the age of eighteen. When the state of Israel was declared, the situation rapidly changed and the applications for Canada quickly dried up, but by then the initial project had been completed. Ostry stated that, for the children who were selected, ‘Canada was the emblem of freedom to them from the frustrating, poverty-stricken, degrading conditions under which they lived in Europe. It would be impossible to describe the eagerness with which admission was sought to a children’s centre.’ For Ostry, the program was ‘a source of personal satisfaction. All the hardships and overwhelming responsibilities in so tremendous a task are fully repaid by the changes in the outward appearance, the changed expressions and the buoyancy of spirit as well as the stability of bearing which I have noted among the few individuals and groups I have met since my return to Canada.’ She concluded that ‘the orphans’ project as sponsored by the Canadian Jewish Congress had served a most humanitarian cause.’7 Some 1,200 children were brought to Canada under the War Orphans Project. At the end of her assignment with this project, Ostry was appointed the executive secretary of the Jewish Children’s Home and Aid Society of Western Canada in Winnipeg. From that position she continued her work on behalf of the child victims of fascism, ‘the most pathetic of its survivors,’ developing community-wide educational and support programs to ensure the war orphans’ successful integration into Canadian

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society. ‘Only as these young immigrants feel that there is a real place for them in the homes and activities of the centres in which they live,’ she argued, ‘can they begin to have a sense of belonging to Canada.’8 Twenty-five years later, in 1972, these children, now adults, arranged a reunion in Winnipeg at which Ethel, their ‘mother,’ was reunited with her large and diverse ‘family.’ She was then a psychiatric social worker in Toronto, still doing the work she had done in the German displacedpersons centres, as she termed UNRRA’s camps.9 Ostry had always refused to call them camps because of that word’s association with concentration camps. It was not until February 1948 that Elizabeth Brown had recovered sufficiently from the parasitic problems that had plagued her during her final year in Jerusalem to begin work with the International Refugee Organization. Posted to Bad Kissingen, Germany, a lovely spa in the heart of the mountains isolated from the ravages of war, she was appointed the director of repatriation for the U.S. Zone of Germany. Brown believed that she had been chosen for this appointment because of her experience in running UNRRA’s Jerusalem Office. And, indeed, an interesting parallel could be drawn with her work in Jerusalem. By 1948, most of IRO’s work focused on resettlement of those who did not wish to return to their homelands under increasing Soviet dominance, behind the ‘Iron Curtain.’ In contrast, her division of the IRO oversaw the ‘Other Exodus’ of refugees, who faced discrimination because they sought to return to countries within the Eastern Bloc. Anyone wanting to return home ‘had a difficult time because of the political anti-repatriation mood that prevailed among refugees.’10 Once again, her refugees found themselves under considerable pressure from camp leaders, whose ‘hostility towards the communists was beyond reason not to repatriate.’11 Brown believed that the fear of communism poisoned working relationships within the IRO. The behaviour of the Americans on the IRO staff demonstrated to her that most of them were anxious not to appear supportive of sending people back to Poland lest their actions be construed as anti-American. During her time with the IRO, Brown became aware of a project to resettle a number of Roman Catholic children in Canada, sponsored by the Catholic Immigrant Aid Society. Her disapproval of the project reflected both her previous experience with UNRRA and her focus on Polish repatriation in her new work with the IRO. In her account of what she regarded as the clandestine ‘kidnapping’ of sixty Polish unaccompanied children from Tanganyika in East Africa, destined to be

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resettled in Canada, she emphasized that the scheme led to the closing of the IRO’s Warsaw office: ‘By the time the children left Rome, IRO officials knew that at least a third of them had blood relatives waiting in Warsaw to receive them and whose repatriation was planned by IRO. The Catholic Church had solicited the help of volunteers for this kidnapping, but the IRO took the penalty or punishment. The IRO office in Warsaw was ordered closed immediately and much good work already in stream had to be abandoned or measures improvised in Germany to substitute.’12 For Brown, there was more at stake here than the administrative inconvenience caused by the closing of the Warsaw Office. The changing political tides had not eroded her attitude towards repatriation for the Poles. She regarded them as simple peasant folk who lacked the skills that would allow them to adapt to a new country. More fundamentally, they wanted to return home. She remained steadfast in her belief that power politics should not circumscribe an individual’s right to choose where to spend the rest of his or her life or the right of natural parents to have their children returned. Despite the frustrations she experienced during her time with the IRO, she was to devote the rest of her life to assisting refugees through her work with the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization. Her adventurous spirit, so evident during her UNRRA years, was again evidenced in 1963 when she agreed to serve as the director of Foster Parents Plan in Saigon, a post she held for the next seven years in the middle of raging war.13 Defining the Contours of Post-war Social Work: Leonard Marsh and Harry Cassidy Canadian social workers felt empowered by their work in UNRRA, which had tested their ability to adapt their knowledge in untried circumstances. Many returned to Canada confident in their profession’s capacity to address the pressing social-welfare issues of the day. Some supported the extension of the status and influence of their profession by championing their role in developing national social policy in postwar Canada. Ethel Ostry, for example, spent several years in Saskatchewan working on the development of a program to provide medical services on a more equitable basis to all the province’s residents. Still others sought to advance their profession’s contribution to the development of post-war public polices in Canada by charting a new direction in social-work education. Leonard Marsh had a long and dis-

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tinguished career as a progressive social reformer before and after his service with UNRRA. By the time UNESCO asked him to assist the government of Iraq to found a school of social work, however, he was no longer available. After several unsuccessful attempts to gain employment with either the United Nations or the International Labour Organization, Marsh accepted an appointment to the University of British Columbia’s School of Social Work in 1947, becoming director of research in 1959.14 In 1964 he joined the Faculty of Education as professor of educational sociology, a position he held until his retirement in 1972. Social engineering was a cardinal tenet of his approach to the development of the Canadian welfare state. His studies of social inequality, based upon exhaustive and systematic collection of data rather than abstract theories of human behaviour, became the basis for the development of rational social policies to improve the lives of Canadians. Predictably, his goal as the director of UBC’s School of Social Work was ‘to introduce a social and scientific dimension into social work and social welfare planning.’15 In Toronto, Harry Cassidy was moving social work in a similar direction. In 1944, after his brief time with UNRRA, Cassidy assumed the directorship of the Faculty of Social Work at the University of Toronto. During the next six years, until his tragic death from cancer, ‘he completely re-organized social work education at the University of Toronto, and developed a guiding set of principles for social policy that would underpin how the Faculty of Social Work approached its role for decades to come.’ As a colleague recalled, Cassidy was ‘the closest we ever came to having a leader in social welfare in Canada.’ A speech on the topic of ‘Social Work Education’ given near the end of his life reflected his continuing concern with the profession’s preoccupation with ‘the direct rendering of service to individuals and groups to the neglect of the administration’s organization ... within which service is rendered.’ For Cassidy, ‘it was simply impossible to operate in this way in a vacuum of social policy ... If we are going to be effective in social work we have to operate all along the line, from the initial interview with the client seeking help up through the agency structure to the voluntary planning agencies and to the government body that deals with policy.’16 These objectives within the Canadian social-work profession needed to be viewed within a longer developmental continuum which sought to forge a union between research-based science and idealism to meet the changing requirements for social reconstruction in post-war Canadian society.

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Canadian UNRRA Nurses: Personal Legacies Nursing with UNRRA touched the private and professional lives of the Canadian nurses who ventured overseas. For many, their UNRRA work laid the foundation for their subsequent contributions to nursing, provincially, nationally, and internationally. Beatrice Roberts found that nursing within the more traditional confines of a hospital back home was too restrictive after her UNRRA experience and chose to follow the more conventional path of setting aside her career to marry and raise a family. Others had different solutions, seeking greater professional autonomy or decision-making responsibility. Some seized the opportunity provided by their former service in the Canadian armed forces to continue their studies with an eye to obtaining administrative or teaching posts upon graduation. Josephine de Brincat, the feisty Canadian who had survived the arduous nursing assignment in camps in southern Italy, completed further studies at both the University of Toronto and the University of Minnesota before returning to public-health nursing in Manitoba. She was actively involved in the Manitoba association of Registered Nurses, serving as its vice president, while working as a supervisor of and later a consultant with the Public Health Department in Manitoba. Before she ended her career in 1963, she had helped establish home-care services within the province.17 Mary Henderson returned to public-health nursing at the Metropolitan Health Service in Vancouver, which she felt was ‘a bit freer ... not so confining perhaps as hospital work.’ Later, she was appointed assistant director of nursing for the same body, a post she occupied until her retirement in 1965.18 Heather Kilpatrick, wearied by the years of travel and solitude involved in her public-health nursing work, sought greater professional autonomy by continuing her career as the head nurse of the large outpatient department at Shaughnessy Hospital, Vancouver, until she retired in 1971. Several former Canadian UNRRA nurses made a life-long commitment to nursing education as directors of nursing schools across the country and through their provincial and national nursing bodies. Louise Bartsch left her post as the assistant matron at Belsen to become the assistant director, then director, of nursing at Royal Edward Laurentian Hospital (then located in Sainte-Agathe-des-Monts), and she retained this post until her appointment as the director of nursing at Union Hospital in Moose Jaw in 1958.19 The Canadian nurse who had overseen the development of nursing education within the British Zone of Germany,

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Norena McKenzie, was praised after her death as ‘a great teacher’ who had served on provincial, national, and international nursing-education committees, including the World Health Expert Committee on Nursing at Geneva.20 Others, such as Jean Watt, laid the groundwork for provincial nursing legislation and organization throughout the country. In 1952 she joined the Registered Nurses Association of Ontario as membership secretary and then became its public-relations secretary. Her ‘many long days of painstaking research and study as secretary’ paved the way for the Ontario Nurses Act of 1961 and the College of Nurses of Ontario, ‘the first organization of its kind in Canada and possibly the world.’ She served as its director from 1963 until her retirement in 1968.21 For Edna Osborne, the UNRRA years and especially her time at Fallingbostel forged more than strong memories and friendships that survived to her death.22 She had made a difference in the lives of the displaced persons there and that pattern of caring and advocacy for those less fortunate would be the hallmark of her future professional and personal life. Among her colleagues, she was viewed as one ‘of Saskatchewan’s true Renaissance women,’ known to ‘balance competence and compassion with a strong but modest personality.’ Osborne serves as only one example of how nurses used the administrative and political skills they developed while nursing abroad to reach for new challenges and at the same time make a contribution to their profession and community. She is remembered for her pioneering role as director of the Social Services Department from 1956 to 1973 at the Royal University Hospital in Saskatoon, as well as in the establishment of a school of social work in the province, ‘always willing to do that little bit extra to push the idea along until it became a reality in 1971.’23 In 1980, in recognition of those achievements, the Saskatchewan Association of Social Workers (SASW) awarded her the Second Annual Distinguished Services Award in Social Work, and in 1998 the organization dedicated its administration building in her honour – Edna Osborne House. After her retirement, while acting as the executive director of the SASW, she was (like Libbie Rutherford Park) a prominent peace activist and an unfaltering defender of the underprivileged and oppressed, making sure that the SASW ‘spoke out on conditions in society that detracted from human welfare.’24 The UNRRA years had taught her that the personal is political. As a political activist, her impassioned sense of social justice found expression through her life-long commitment to and involvement with the Canadian Peace Research Institute and Amnesty

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International. In the fall of 1973 she travelled to Moscow to attend the International Peace Conference. Perhaps because nurses witnessed the devastating long-term impact of war on the civilian population, other Canadian nurses, such as Libbie Rutherford Park, also became peace activists. After UNRRA, Rutherford Park became secretary of the Health Division of the Toronto Welfare Council (1946–9), national secretary of the Congress of Canadian women, and secretary of the Toronto Peace Conference. While researching and planning for community health service consumed much of her workday with the Toronto Welfare Council, it was the ground-breaking steps taken by the council’s Rehabilitation Committee – the whole concept and what it should encompass was in its infancy – which remained her proudest achievement. During her long and distinguished career, Lyle Creelman, ‘one of the best-known nurses in the world,’ helped establish provincial, national, and international standards of nursing. After leaving UNRRA, she originally had intended to return to Vancouver to continue her work with the Metropolitan Health Unit but was soon requested to conduct a survey of British Columbia’s public-health services for the provincial government. Later, in 1948, she collaborated with Dr J.H. Baillie on a major study of the national public-health services commissioned by the Canadian Public Health Association. The Baillie-Creelman Report, published in 1950, fundamentally influenced the provision of public-health care in Canada and functioned as the central reference for the preparation of public-health professionals in Canada. Creelman took a broad approach to public-health nursing, incorporating the more modern view of social work that was then gradually gaining credence within Canada. This approach sought to eradicate the socio-economic causes of poverty rather than ameliorating its effects. Creelman believed that, without tackling the origins of poverty, public-health issues within the larger community could never be properly addressed. In 1950 Creelman, ‘recognized around the world for her clear judgment and administrative ability,’ 25 joined the newly formed nursing unit of the World Health Organization as a consultant in maternal and child health and was eventually appointed its chief nursing officer, serving in that capacity until her retirement in 1968. Her UNRRA experience had laid the foundation for her work with the WHO, where she again stressed the importance of nursing education as the avenue for improving world health care within developing countries. Her goal there, as in UNRRA earlier, remained the achievement by these countries of self-sufficiency in health care, and her approach, also derived

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from her UNRRA experience, displayed a deepening understanding of the need to accommodate regional differences. The UNRRA years had begun her transformation as an international nursing educator and administrator who advocated the promotion of ‘adaptation’ rather than unthinking ‘adoption’ of Western nursing techniques.26 During her WHO tenure, Creelman, with the assistance of a strong Canadian contingent, changed the face of international nursing – a fact widely recognized both in Canada and abroad by the time of her death in 2007.27 Former Canadian UNRRA nurses, led by Lyle Creelman, would play leadership roles in the development of the Nursing Division within the World Health Organization. As had been her past practice, Creelman recruited well-prepared Canadian nurses to work with her at the WHO. In 1950 Muriel Graham, for example, joined the WHO and was posted to Rangoon, Burma, to direct nursing education at the General Hospital there, work that she continued until taking up her appointment as the director of nurses at Children’s Hospital, Halifax. Helena Reimer, after returning home in 1948, had rejoined the hospital staff at the Winnipeg General Hospital as the assistant director of nursing, and she remained there until moving to the WHO’s Nursing Division in 1950. Serving as a nursing consultant in Cambodia Indo-China until she contracted a serious tropical illness, Reimer, at Creelman’s behest, organized a school of nursing in affiliation with the University of Alexandria, Egypt, in 1953. Upon her return to Canada in 1958, she served as secretary-registrar of the Association of Nurses of the Province of Quebec. Her contribution to nursing was recognized when she was made a member of the Order of Canada in 1974 and was awarded the Queen’s Jubilee Medal in 1977, recognition that would be followed by an honorary doctorate of law from the University of Winnipeg. Even after her retirement, she remained involved in community life, teaching English as a second language to new Canadians.28 Canadian nurses have continued to shape both national and international health-care organizations and standards of nursing. As it had with UNRRA, the Canadian Nurses Association has positioned Canadian nurses as leaders in international nursing, thereby contributing to the advancement of global health; in 2001 the growth in the CNA’s international work resulted in the formation of a separate department within the organization devoted to international health-policy development. Many of its programs are based upon a partnership model that extended the UNRRA experience by seeking to meet regional needs rather than adopting a ‘one size fits all approach.’29 Creelman and her fellow Canadian UNRRA nurses had become women and nurses of the

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world, pioneering the way for the generations of Canadian nurses who would follow in their footsteps. The Canadian medical legacy, especially in China, went beyond the work of the nurses and doctors. Canada’s role in contributing and distributing medical supplies was epitomized by the work of the FAU and Dr Tilson Harrison, who ‘has been touted as Canada’s second Norman Bethune and a model for Indiana Jones.’30 Their heroic efforts laid the foundation for future diplomatic and cooperative medical overtures between Canada and China. In the International Peace Maternity Hospital, there is a bust of Dr Harrison commemorating his efforts to treat the victims of the Chinese civil war. Prime Minister Brian Mulroney sent a message to the Chinese ambassador to Canada in 1988, ostensibly on the 100th anniversary of Harrison’s birth, extolling his contributions to bettering the lives of the people of China. Because Harrison had misrepresented the date of his birth, the centenary was celebrated seven years after the proper date. Members of the FAU were invited back to China and feted as honoured guests by the Chinese government in 1995. Ironically, these medical adventurers and humanitarians are better known in China than in their own country. Challenging Gender Barriers UNRRA claimed to offer employment without regard to race, religion, or gender. In practice, however, senior appointments were coloured by political considerations, and, in retrospect, it was naive to expect that traditional gender roles would be abandoned. Women on UNRRA’s staff had to work with military and government officials within the war-torn countries, where the culture of gender remained traditional. Nonetheless, circumstances dictated that women assume leadership roles in the field, and their doing so pushed traditional gender barriers to the limit. Similarly, although this study has focused primarily on Canadian women who held senior field positions within UNRRA’s displaced-persons operations, other Canadian women played equally valuable roles as secretaries and administrators at headquarters and in UNRRA’s country missions around the world. Work with UNRRA presented an opportunity for these career-minded Canadian women to discover and develop their individual administrative skills. Normally, they would have remained faceless international servants whose contributions are impossible to document, especially given the increasingly stringent privacy legislations surrounding personnel records. A

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sampling of approximately forty biographical sketches compiled as part of UNRRA’s out-placement service for women staff members seeking future employment with other international organizations, however, reveals some interesting facts.31 An overwhelming majority of these women had outstanding records of employment with UNRRA, receiving recognition for their abilities through repeated grade and salary advancements. For at least twenty of them, working within UNRRA’s displaced-persons operations provided a respectable avenue for travel while offering at least a modestly higher salary, just as their wartime work was winding down. For most, the major improvement in salary came when they left Washington to take up appointments within UNRRA’s country missions in China, Italy, or Poland. Work within the missions provided more consistent opportunities for administrative responsibilities beyond the stenographer’s pool. Verna Braithwaite left her volunteer work with the Canadian Red Cross to accept a position with UNRRA as clerk stenographer in its Ottawa office in May 1945, at a starting salary of $1,845. After her transfer to the China mission, her ability to manage greater responsibility resulted in her promotion to administrative assistant, with a salary of $3,245 in 1947.32 Ruth Butler’s employment history followed a similar pattern. After leaving her job with the Royal Air Force delegation in Toronto, she was transferred from Washington to the Italian mission, where her salary almost doubled. She too ‘displayed executive ability and handled personnel well.’ By the time she left UNRRA, her salary had almost doubled again. Vivian Clarke left behind a similar paying job at the British Air Commission in Washington to accept a position as a clerk stenographer in UNRRA’s Bureau of Finance and Administration in that city. She held this job until transferring to UNRRA’s new China Office. For her ‘outstanding’ work in China, she was awarded further promotions in rank and salary. Frances Dahlgren viewed the opportunity to have more responsibility, including drafting letters and telegrams for the chief regional representative of the Honan region in China, as just as important as the steady salary raises that accompanied her promotion from secretary to administrative assistant (with a salary of $3,200). This energetic, hard-working Canadian was held to have done an exceptional job, especially ‘considering the many hardships the Honan staff have undergone such as poor living conditions, quarters ... lack of outside entertainment and isolation.’ There are other examples. Freda Graham probably did not hesitate to

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leave her uninteresting job with Department of Munitions and Supplies in Toronto to work for UNRRA at its Washington headquarters. Again, when the China mission opened, she seized the opportunity for promotion and travel. Although she remained classified as a secretary, she received further grade and salary advancements and was also awarded a meritorious salary increase for performing outstanding work during 1947, when further grade advances were precluded during UNRRA’s final phase of operations.33 She demonstrated ‘a good deal of initiative and trust worthiness in accepting other assignments from those normally expected of a Secretary,’ as well as an ability to handle people ‘with a good deal of tact and diplomacy.’ Rose Hartsilver’s career also followed the familiar road from wartime employment in Ottawa to UNRRA’s Washington headquarters and then on to China. What set her apart from the other secretarial staff was that she ultimately rose to become regional finance officer, Grade 8, at a salary of $3,645 per annum. A skilled administrator who had gained the respect and admiration of her local Chinese employees, she also received meritorious pay for ‘perusing her arduous duties with untiring energy and zeal under the rather trying conditions in Hankow.’ Mary Perkins, who climbed up through the UNRRA grade rankings to administrative service officer, Grade 8, came to be regarded by the bureau chief in Germany as one of the organization’s most valuable employees. Canadians on UNRRA’s administrative staff, like those mentioned above, were ambitious, adventurous, and eager for the new experiences that work within a fledgling organization offered. Once in the field, administrative performance was judged more on competence than on pre-existing stereotypes. Few Canadian women who started as secretaries broke through gender barriers completely. But several challenged them. Similarly, on one level, the role of women as welfare workers could be seen as an extension of their maternal and nurturing roles. But, on another level, the extraordinary circumstances of field work in the aftermath of war provided supervisory opportunities that challenged gender conventions. Mabel Geldard-Brown, Elizabeth Brown, Charity Grant, and Ethel Ostry were self-confident, independent, and, to varying degrees, personally and professionally ambitious. As women operating in what was still very much a man’s world, they were invigorated by their ability to hold and exercise authority. Not unexpectedly, they encountered gender prejudice from among those used to functioning in the military milieu of a wartime situation, but they did not bend before it. For Canadian nurses, the gender issue manifested itself differently.

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No one questioned the value of nurses’ preventative or curative roles in medical-relief work, but men in positions of authority seldom attached the same importance to nursing that they did to other health-care professions. Nonetheless, in the course of doing their work, both in the field and elsewhere, Canadian nurses stretched the gender boundaries of their profession, demanding equal status and remuneration. When women UNRRAIDS came back home, some would return to the traditional role of marriage and family. Others would look for and create opportunities for greater career satisfaction and autonomy as provincial or national leaders within their chosen professions. Still others became expatriates again, returning to international aid work to fulfil their career and personal aspirations as single career women. The women who served with UNRRA took the first modest steps towards greater gender equality in international relief and, in so doing, raised the expectations for equitable treatment among women in those countries where they served. Today, gender equality is regarded as a condition of employment within international organizations and a goal for which Canadian development projects are held accountable. The Canadian women who served with UNRRA deserve part of the credit. Conclusion The UNRRA years, filled with as they were with contradictions – success, disappointment, frustration, and fulfillment – set the course for many Canadian UNRRAIDS’ future careers and personal life choices. Several who had served as agricultural experts in China and the Ukraine returned with a deeper commitment to advancing environmentally responsible agricultural practices.34 Some chose to build lifelong careers of international service with UNRRA’s successor organizations, such as the IRO, UNESCO, the WHO, and UNICEF, or for Canadian voluntary agencies for whom they had worked. For several members of the Friends Ambulance Unit, the China Convoy marked the beginning of a lifetime commitment to international medical and relief work in developing countries. For others, the China years reinforced their desire to live and work as members of Christian communities, and consequently they either joined existing ones (such as those of the Quaker Bruderhof) or formed new ones of their own. Still other UNRRAIDS shaped the national landscape, leaving their imprint as politicians, educators, social and medical reformers, and political activists.

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The legacies of Canadian UNRRAIDS suggest the need to extend the usual historical focus of the historiography of international organizations. Canadians’ involvement in UNRRA touched many of the significant social welfare, cultural, gender, educational, and environmental issues defining post-war Canada society. At the dawn of the twentyfirst century Canadians still expect their foreign-policy objectives to reflect established societal norms: gender equality, social justice, and environmental responsibility. The UNRRA years were the prelude to an increasingly interdependent and complex global community that would be mirrored in the national policy-making process.

Conclusion

As the end of UNRRA drew near, many UNRRAIDS, such as George Mooney, executive secretary, ERO, in London, reflected on their time with the organization. ‘I have enjoyed meeting people like you and others and to have worked with them in facilitating the relief and rehabilitation needs of desperate people through the world,’ Mooney wrote. ‘It has been a great show, a high enterprise, and though it has been crowded with bungling and stupidity and with gross inefficiency at key directional points, the job has been done, perhaps not as well as it could have but, nonetheless, done.’1 Years later, Lester Pearson, who had played a key role in guiding UNRRA from its earliest days, provided in his memoirs a similarly judicious evaluation of the organization’s record. ‘If there was inefficiency in the doing or some corruption, nevertheless, without UNRRA, there would have been infinitely more suffering and destitution after the war and a far slower rate of recovery and rehabilitation.’2 Mooney’s and Pearson’s recollections of UNRRA offer a framework for evaluating the broader Canadian contribution to the first post-war international organization. Canadians from all walks of life served at every level of UNRRA – some exercised significant influence within it – and the Canadian government dedicated considerable talent and time to moulding and monitoring the Administration’s work at Council sessions and through its committees. Mooney and Pearson captured the conflicting emotions and personal paradoxes that weave throughout the remarkable life tapestries of Canadians working with UNRRA. Individual Canadians and their government approached UNRRA with expectations that would be fundamentally challenged over the course of the organization’s existence.

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The Canadian government, for its part, struggled to balance divergent national goals. On the one hand, for humanitarian reasons alone, Ottawa genuinely wanted the first post-war international relief agency to be successful; on the other, it was vigilant in its efforts to utilize UNRRA as a forum to advance both Canada’s economic interests and its influence on the post-war international stage. Several factors contributed to the complexity of consistently achieving these national objectives. UNRRA, although only a temporary international organization lacking either financial autonomy or any independent authority to enforce its directives, was expected to administer an international relief and rehabilitation program on a magnitude never before attempted. Given the size of their contribution of money, supplies, and personnel, the United States and, to a lesser degree, Great Britain controlled UNRRA’s agenda from its inception until its final days. Moreover, as the hoped-for continuation of East-West cooperation proved illusory, UNRRA was increasingly unable to divorce its international aid and repatriation policies from its member governments’ domestic politics. Working within these constraints, the Canadian government attempted to use the functional principle to chart its course through the turbulent post-war world. Significant tuning was required to keep the country’s international diplomatic efforts on course. Enlightened self-interest mandated that Canada would join UNRRA, though its financial commitment to the organization was always weighed carefully against domestic political considerations and the country’s traditional economic ties. The Canadian government willingly accepted the financial obligations that membership in UNRRA imposed, to the point of extending wartime rationing for the Canadian population to supply its share of UNRRA’s food needs as well as to assist its long-term trading partner, Britain, in its post-war recovery. Yet it was not accidental that Canada drew significant economic benefit from UNRRA’s purchase of Canadian goods beyond its tied aid, receiving UNRRA contracts well in excess of its own total contribution. Canadian officials aggressively lobbied to make certain that Canada got its fair share of supply contracts. To the same end, Pearson used his extensive political connections in Washington and London to ensure that Canadians held key posts within UNRRA’s food and shipping divisions. Moreover, he was well positioned as the chair of the Committee on Supplies to protect and facilitate Canada’s procurement programs. Pearson also looked to Canadians like Charles Drury, from his post in Poland, to keep Ottawa abreast of larger developments in East-West

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relations, thereby enabling Canada to chart as smooth an international course as possible within the Committee on Supplies and at Council sessions. At UNRRA itself, while Canada’s supply record indicates that seconded federal employees at UNRRA headquarters never completely severed their Canadian affiliations, the majority nonetheless exercised responsible control over the development and implementation of UNRRA’s procurement policies. On balance, Canadians did a reasonably good job in meeting UNRRA’s procurement requests in a timely and cost-effective manner. Advancing Canada’s claim for increased international recognition proved more problematic. Despite the fact that Canada initially emerged both militarily and economically stronger at the end of the war, the Canadian government’s manoeuvrability to control the international environment in which UNRRA operated remained restricted by its long-term political and economic identification with its traditional allies, the United States and Britain. It did not take long to shatter any image of a ‘brave new world’ emerging and UNRRA was one of the first casualties. Pearson would later add a sort of postscript to the introduction of a speech he gave to the UNRRA staff in 1944. In it, he succinctly delineated the parameters of Canadian diplomacy towards UNRRA: ‘It was, on the whole, an encouraging beginning to post-war international organization.’3 The functional principle survived, albeit in a mutated form, as evidenced by the formation of the Food and Agricultural Conference, Bretton Woods, the Civil Aviation Conference, and Dumbarton Oaks. ‘This time,’ as Pearson told the UNRRA staff, ‘we are using the functional approach which is not quite so dramatic but more effective. By approaching peace through welfare channels rather than through abstract rights [like sovereign equality] we are asking, “How can we make life better in specific fields?”’4 This was a vital point, often lost in references to UNRRA. Because it was the first UN organization, it pioneered a post-war multilateral approach to international economic problems. Pearson’s qualified optimism about UNRRA still resonates. UNRRA proved more than a testing ground for Pearson’s ideas of a Canadian foreign policy based on support for multilateralism in world affairs. His success as the chair of UNRRA’s Committee on Supplies was one factor contributing to Mackenzie King’s decision to bring him back from Washington in 1946 as the senior civil servant in the Department of External Affairs. This, in turn, would be a launching pad for Pearson’s subsequent political career, beginning in 1948. John English, Pearson’s biographer, says that through his work in UNRRA and in the

364 Armies of Peace

Food and Agricultural Organization, Pearson ‘gained a public prominence unique among Canadian diplomats and, indeed, among Canadians generally.’5 His great achievement was his ability to translate the theory of the United Nations as a peacetime organization into effective practice in these two early UN organizations. As Pearson’s first real experience with a United Nations body, UNRRA played a key part in shaping his wartime views on the role that international organizations should play in the post-war world and gave him an opportunity to demonstrate his undoubted leadership abilities on the world stage. It had been a valuable laboratory to try out Pearson’s philosophy that ‘international co-operation for peace is the most important aspect of national policy.’6 A cardinal tenet of Pearson’s diplomacy, this attitude remains crucial for understanding his readiness to forge a compromise in the struggle to secure Canadian representation on the Central Committee. Equally important was the fact that, early on, he accommodated Canada’s diplomatic strategy to the American approach. Quite simply, Pearson was confident in his own ability and that of his handpicked procurement and mission officials to protect Canadian interests in a way that formal legal recognition could not. Accordingly, he took steps to augment Canada’s role within the procurement process and to circumscribe the director general’s administrative authority. Viewed over the entire course of UNRRA’s history, his judgment proved correct. The UNRRA era had led Pearson to a new concept of post-war foreign policy tempered by pragmatism and political ambition. Canada’s experience in UNRRA should not, however, be seen as supporting the idea that the post-Second World War era was a ‘golden age’ of Canadian foreign policy. Important as UNRRA was as a testing ground for a new and more activist post-war foreign policy, neither Pearson nor King was ever an unqualified admirer of the organization and each was hesitant for his own reasons about expanding the Canadian involvement. When the United States and Britain pressed to shut UNRRA down, Canada offered few objections, beyond expressing its continued preference for a multilateral approach to international aid. Canada’s commitment to internationalism, as exemplified by the conduct of its relations with UNRRA, was always restrained by a realistic appraisal of its economic self-interest, to say nothing of security. Temperate internationalism was the only way an aspiring middle power like Canada could navigate the world. Canadian foreign policy with respect to UNRRA, to use John English’s words, ‘eschewed idealism and opted for the sensible rather than the sensational.’7

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The commitment to UNRRA was not confined to the federal government. UNRRA successfully reached over the heads of government to appeal to individual Canadians who genuinely embraced the gospel of international cooperation as their best hope for lasting peace and prosperity. They were staunch and sincere advocates of the idea that the United Nations signified a new departure embracing a multilateral approach to solving world problems. Canadian voluntary agencies made significant gifts of clothing and other relief supplies. Individual Canadians hastened to volunteer for overseas service with UNRRA from a mixture of motives, often inextricably interwoven, ranging from a spirit of adventure to a genuine desire to participate in healing the dreadful wounds left by the war. On a more practical level, UNRRA opened the door to lucrative employment abroad just as wartime employment opportunities were closing down at home and servicemen were being absorbed back into the workforce. This was particularly important for women, for whom employment within an international organization, ostensibly espousing gender equality in its employment practices, offered both a respectable avenue to go overseas and attractive possibilities for future career advancement. The experience of working within a ground-breaking international organization, whether in UNRRA’s country missions or at headquarters, was incredibly varied but seldom what Canadians expected. Irrespective in what capacity they served, Canadian UNRRAIDS struggled to reconcile their initial idealism of volunteering to help heal the wounds of war with the harsh reality of life in the field. UNRRA lacked any clear blueprint for its field operations, and, as a result, many Canadians on UNRRA’s staff were frustrated both by changing expectations and by the repeated reorganizations the Administration underwent as it gathered experience and later, under great financial constraints, prepared to wind down. At all levels of the Administration, divergent professional perspectives, competing national interests, and personal ambitions clashed. Personal animosities were fuelled by many factors – professional rivalry, language barriers, clashes of religious and cultural values, and the lack of a uniform pay scale – and the cultural isolation and lack of personal privacy only exacerbated the hardships inherent in the unsettled situations where the majority of UNRRA’s employees served. More generally, new frontiers had to be crossed to address the issues of gender, professionalism, and nationality that arose in the work of an international agency lacking established traditions or any uniform approach to professional practice in the field. In facing all these problems, Canadian UNRRAIDS adopted survival strategies that

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reflected their unique personalities and previous training and evolved to accommodate the distinctive geopolitical topography that defined their local working environment. While Canadians’ individual experiences during, and memories of, the UNRRA years differed significantly, some common themes emerge. Most found their work with UNRRA to be exasperating but rewarding. Also, their individual stories reinforce the fact that, however valiantly those responsible for training UNRRA’s staff had tried, the Canadian UNRRAIDS arrived ill-equipped for life in the field. The Canadians on UNRRA’s field staff were unprepared for the latent suspicion and hostility among national groups within UNRRA’s European assembly centres, which would only increase as the seat of power shifted within the Eastern European countries. Elsewhere, Canadians faced different political ordeals. Their work for UNRRA in China and Greece was compromised by civil war and the inherent political instability that lingered in its aftermath. Few of UNRRA’s creators had anticipated either the enormity or the logistical difficulties of the relief, rehabilitation, and repatriation task or the political complications caused by the onset of the Cold War. Those Canadians who served on UNRRA’s field staff discovered that practice in the field frequently diverged from UNRRA’s stated policy objectives for several reasons. Sometimes they encountered military authorities within UNRRA’s country missions who simply lacked any understanding of UNRRA’s work in rehabilitating individuals. In Germany especially, the occupying forces focused on controlling discipline within the camps. More significantly, in the case of repatriation, there was no consistent policy to guide field operations, which left the door open to a wide range of personal interpretation on the spot. To the extent that UNRRA’s member governments failed to devise long-term solutions for those displaced from their homes by war and its political aftermath, the work of the Canadian UNRRAIDS in the field became more complex and depressing as they realized that the victims of war who remained in the camps had little assurance of a better future. Canadians at headquarters or on UNRRA’s governing body often appeared increasingly remote and out of touch with the realities that their fellow countrymen encountered in the field. There is no doubt that the mood within the camps changed as time passed; most Canadians found it more rewarding to deal with the logistical nightmares and long days of the early period than to contend with the increasing despondency of the wind-down era. What appeared as

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legally or fiscally responsible policy in Washington and London seemed less so to those charged with making decisions on a daily basis that determined the futures of countless individuals. An UNRRA team’s success could not be measured in the monthly repatriation figures they were obliged late in the Administration’s history to forward to headquarters. For those in the field, individual statistics had names and faces that told of horrific wartime experiences. Many Canadian UNRRAIDS did whatever they could to make a difference in the lives they touched. They had come as ‘Soldiers of Peace’ and were increasingly uneasy in their politically prescribed role as ‘Agents of Repatriation.’ Life in the field took its toll, making it more difficult to reconcile their working and private lives. It is equally clear that, when UNRRAIDS in the field disagreed with the new direction towards repatriation, they, like the displaced persons whom they sought to assist, became masters of quiet subterfuge. Fortunately, the courage, perseverance, imagination, and vision of the field staff went a long way to guarantee that UNRRA survived long enough to lay the groundwork for more permanent international organizations to deal with the shelter and resettlement of those who refused to return to their country of origin. To be sure, there was a level of ineptitude, corruption, and chaos in UNRRA that few had anticipated. At a minimum, different national and professional training added to the difficulty of forging harmonious international teams with a uniform approach to the provision of medical or social services. The clash of professional perspectives between North American-trained social workers and European social workers fresh from the wartime experience required time and patience to sort out. Many Canadians gradually came to the realization that their case approach was not especially relevant for the highly transitory populations within UNRRA’s camps. Most adapted and made useful contributions to UNRRA’s efforts to rehabilitate the body and spirit of those who had endured unimaginable suffering. Much more difficult, however, was the perceived need to set aside professional ethics to carry out UNRRA’s work for strictly political reasons beyond the individual UNRRAID’s control. Social workers quickly found that the central tenet of welfare work, that the welfare of the individual child or the emotional and physical rehabilitation of adults should take precedence, was cast aside to accommodate the larger political controversies swirling around repatriation as provided for under the Yalta agreement. In countries like Greece, where continued political instability left the national social-welfare agencies in a weakened condition, some, like Mabel Gel-

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dard-Brown, though well intentioned, succumbed to the temptation of doing the job themselves instead of developing an indigenous administrative capacity that would be sustainable without UNRRA’s support. In the end, many accepted that it was better to ameliorate the suffering than do nothing. Canadian UNRRA nurses also had to cross new professional frontiers. Those selected for service with UNRRA represented the educational elite and were often the emerging leaders of their generation of Canadian nurses. Drawn to work with UNRRA by the promise of a challenging and lucrative opportunity for international service abroad, few foresaw the physical hardiness or professional self-reliance that would be required in meeting the overwhelming demand for nursing services in war-torn countries. There is no doubt that Canadian UNRRA nurses’ professional authority to determine the shape of nursing services was contested in the field. Coping demanded more than personal resourcefulness. Irrespective of their practice settings, the evidence suggests that Canadian UNRRA nurses’ advanced and diversified educational preparation, coupled with their strong sense of professional identity, was crucial for their survival in the field during those turbulent years nursing abroad. The actions of the Canadian UNRRA nurses at all levels indicate that the overwhelming majority were not willing to tolerate the notion that the nurse was the handmaiden of the doctor or was to be treated as a second-class citizen within UNRRA’s administrative apparatus. Their clear view of the proper role of the nurse helped them to define professional space within an ill-defined, transitory organization operating on the uncertain and constantly changing boundaries of war and peace. It was also fundamental for negotiating their professional relationship with nurses of other nationalities and their respective national governments. Defining professional identity, however, demonstrated considerable variations, revealing the diversity of experiences of Canadian nurses within the UNRRA’s nursing brigade. While Canadian nursing leaders within the Canadian Nurses Association viewed the question of their nurses’ salaries or status as a matter of principle, Canadian UNRRA nurses in the field were more pragmatic in their approach, focusing on how their lower grading and salaries undermined their authority and compromised their performance. That they were never entirely successful should not detract from the passion with which they attempted to advance nursing as a recognized and socially useful profession within both the Administration and the countries where they served.

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369

Although Canadian UNRRA nurses reflected the ideals of the contemporary Canadian and international nursing leadership, they were equally a transitional generation of nurses, whose experiences with diverse ethnic populations in war-torn countries brought into question the practicality of an international community of nurses forged by standardized education and accreditation requirements. While Canadian UNRRA nurses were proud of their collective record of service, working alongside nurses from other countries gave rise to an understanding that Canadian standards and methods were not the only good ones. Still, they continued to value access to nursing education, state registration, and national nursing laws as avenues for securing a living wage for nurses displaced from their homes by war or serving within the liberated countries. The UNRRA years gave them invaluable lessons in how Western nursing models needed to be adapted to meet the health challenges of war-devastated countries. Those lessons would be carried forward and further refined by future generations of WHO nurses. It is impossible to quantify the impact that Canadian nurses, and Canadian welfare workers also, had on the lives of the young women they educated – women who, in the process of establishing their professional accreditation, began recovering their own sense of personal identity and worth. For the Canadian nurses themselves, however, their experiences as instructors offer instructive insights into some of the systemic challenges of international nursing and into the economic and social aspects of education that went beyond conveying nursing technique. They sought to shape both the nurse and woman. Nursing on the front lines, within Germany and to an even greater degree in war-torn China and Greece, in unconventional settings with few facilities or resources challenged many Canadian UNRRA nurses to define the ways in which nursing was a shared international experience. It forced them to identify the essential core value of caring. Canadian UNRRA nurses repeatedly stressed that, although the care given was not that of modern Canadian hospitals, patients were well cared for and made as comfortable as possible. The surviving accounts of patient care in Belsen, taken along with those of Canadians who nursed under canvas in the desert in Egypt, in the mountains of Greece, or the makeshift cholera hospitals in China, illuminate how Canadian UNRRA nurses articulated their art of ‘being-for-the-other,’ when neither prevention nor cure but only comfort was possible given the primitive conditions and overwhelming demand for nursing services. Nursing care, imbued by a sense of service, to prevent disease or allevi-

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ate suffering was the same worldwide, even though techniques and educational standards were not. In contrast to the experience of many Canadian social workers on UNRRA’s field staff, then, nurses could reach to the essential values of their profession to help them cope with the crushing demand for nursing services. The hectic pace and hardships of nursing within UNRRA’s Displaced Persons Division was offset in part by the sense of excitement of being part of a humanitarian effort and by the knowledge that their presence made a tangible difference in the health of the victims of war. While UNRRA promulgated the principle of equality of the sexes in employment practices, Canadian women on UNRRA’s staff fought to establish their professional credentials and find space for their private lives within this new type of international organization. Not only were the most senior administrative posts reserved for men, but UNRRA operated under the authority of the occupying military forces, and at the invitation of the receiving country’s government, neither of whom were much interested in gender equality. In short, Canadian women found that the UNRRA work world was still a male-dominated environment. Mary Craig McGeachy was told that the appointment of a woman would not be acceptable as her division’s liaison officer to SHAEF; Elizabeth Brown’s original appointment to Yugoslavia was changed because Tito did not want women. Survival meant learning the political skills necessary to operate in a man’s world. Some were more successful than others. Lyle Creelman proved adept at navigating the power struggles within the Nursing Division to emerge as the chief nurse of the British Zone. Her subsequent ability to develop a close professional and personal relationship with Sir Raphael Cilento, who later became the director of the British Zone, and with the chief nurses in charge within the Allied Control Commission buttressed her subsequent authority over nursing matters. Similarly, the chief of UNRRA’s Jerusalem Office, Elizabeth Brown, coupled political astuteness and feminine wile with strong interpersonal skills to survive all the administrative reorganizations and Zionist political intrigue. In contrast, McGeachy suffered the consequences of not mastering the internal politics that rankled throughout the senior administrative branch during UNRRA’s entire history, and Mabel Geldard-Brown’s, Ethel’s Ostry’s, and Charity Grant’s abrasive manner was not well received by the occupying military officials or their male superiors. Certainly, women who were directors of assembly centres, chief nurses, area nursing supervisors, area welfare officers, or child-search

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officers were invigorated by the opportunity for greater professional autonomy and decision-making authority than many had experienced in their former jobs. And, despite the fact that Canadian salaries were lower than those of their American colleagues, Canadian women, by the salary standards of their own country, were well paid for their work with UNRRA. For many women, it is true, promotions and pay raises reflected efforts to reward hardship assignments or to stave off the mass exodus of skilled personnel rather than any organizational commitment to employment equity. Nonetheless, women’s presence in leadership positions and their work to raise the educational opportunities and living conditions for women in the countries where they served were the first small steps towards gender equality on the international stage. The journey continues today. Most Canadian UNRRA workers, while initially bewildered at being plunged into the vortex of administrative disorganization and human misery, eventually took hold of the situation and determined to do what they could to help. Though the resourcefulness, adaptability, professional skills, and energy varied with the individual, Canadians were generally well regarded and, as a group, made constructive contributions to UNRRA’s overseas work in the immediate aftermath of the war. UNRRA did not have the time to build institutional cohesion or to hammer out its relations with the occupying authorities before it dispatched its first teams. Capacity and competencies were forged in the field, where the personal and professional hurdles encountered were enormous. It was one thing to read or hear about man’s inhumanity to man, it was another to have it intrude into your work world so graphically that it haunted every waking hour. Diaries and letters became essential escape valves. Sometimes, the writers ignored the horror around them in order to gain much-needed respite from their chaotic working environment. At other times, Canadian UNRRAIDS like Bill Rogers struggled to find the language to describe the brutality and human wreckage they discovered in the wake of war, often drawing comparisons to animal behaviour. One of the few sources of support were personal friendships forged through shared experiences, which explains why Canadians went to extraordinary efforts to keep in contact with their countrymen and other UNRRAIDS whenever time, stolen gasoline, and sheer will permitted. The complete legacy of those Canadians who served abroad with UNRRA goes beyond the immediate contribution they made to the care, repatriation, or resettlement of unaccompanied children or the

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millions of displaced persons within the camps in Europe and the Middle East. Many returned to Canada forever marked by their years of service with UNRRA. Every one of them came back with their experiences indelibly imprinted upon their memories, in much the same way that soldiers returned from overseas battle. Several former Canadian UNRRAIDS had remarkable lifetime careers of international service, building on the reputation and knowledge gained during their UNRRA years. Many were well-meaning but had a somewhat idealized approach to international relief when they joined UNRRA, and even afterwards. Consider the case of Bill Rogers. His faith in humanity and dedication to improving educational standards and the quality of life throughout the world remained strong even though his UNRRA experiences had quickly tempered his youthful naivety. When he left UNRRA in 1946, Rogers was certain that ‘the main refugee problem was solved, at least for our generation.’ When he reflected upon this over forty years later, he wrote, ‘How totally wrong could I be? Has there ever been a period in the history of mankind that has produced all over the globe, more homeless, rootless, wandering peoples seeking haven in other places?’ Rogers also believed in 1946 that ‘narrow nationalism, which could so easily become fanatical and destructive, had to be, and would become, a thing of the past.’ He had convinced himself that the UN and its organizations ‘would be strong and effective’ and ‘would lead us into a brave new world of supra-nationalism.’ Here, too, forty years later, he candidly admitted his earlier error. ‘The post World War II period has seen all over the globe, an incredible rebirth of nationalism, frequently of the most fanatical and war-like kind, based often on racial or religious intolerance.’8 Yet, without the idealism of youth, would Rogers and his fellow Canadian UNRRAIDS have accomplished all that they did? At the very least, a great deal of the down-to-earth experience gained in the field with UNRRA in all likelihood influenced their conduct in future organizations. Many former UNRRAIDS shaped the contours of post-war Canada as educators and as advocates for improved health care and greater social justice. Canadians who had worked in the displaced-persons operations did not find it easy to set aside the images of those left behind in the UNRRA camps in Europe. As Charity Grant admitted near the end of her life, ‘this UNRRA work was not a particularly happy experience. However, it was vastly worthwhile, because we were helping needful people who had survived dreadful experiences ... When I finally came back to Canada after doing this work for some time I had

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definitely learned one thing and it has stayed with me ever since. That is – what a hard and difficult thing it is to be a refugee.’9 Grant and others like her vigorously lobbied for a more liberal immigration policy and for appropriate social and educational support systems to assist new Canadians in adapting to their new home. The role that the Canadian Nurses Association, the Canadian Association of Social Workers, and the Canadian Jewish Congress played as proponents for change foreshadowed the increasing visibility of non-governmental organizations in the future national discourse on social and international issues. UNRRA’s time in the field was simply too short to forge any sense of institutional cohesion around which its far-flung staff could coalesce. Personal ambition, biases, and sense of nationality remained intact – the disparate uniforms worn by its staff were the living symbol of UNRRA’s failure to create a shared sense of corporate identity. At best, UNRRA had begun to lay the foundations for the development of a cadre of highly trained, dedicated, and independently minded civil servants. Improvements in many areas could be hoped for as experienced UNRRA staff, taking their skills and knowledge, moved on to other international organizations. But there was a deeper paradox that would plague more mature international relief and development efforts in the future. If an international organization managed to create its own sense of corporate identity, uniform operating procedures, and standards of professional behaviour, could it still be flexible enough to meet the varied and constantly changing social economic and cultural conditions within those countries receiving international assistance? Would its staff share the passionate commitment to endure and to devise innovative solutions on the ground? And on whose terms do international relief workers ‘help people help themselves’? Just as UNRRA had attempted to assist war-devastated countries to catch up as quickly as possible with scientific and technological developments on the medical, industrial, and agricultural fronts, so did Western economic models of development in combination with the transfer of modern technological advances become an accepted strategy of international agencies in the early postwar period for closing the widening economic gulf between developed and underdeveloped nations. Yet UNRRA had also demonstrated that international aid was intrinsically political and replete with cultural schisms. Without an indigenous political and economic infrastructure within the receiving countries, programs could not be carried on once the infusion of funds and personnel dried up. The quandaries that have

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plagued international agencies in forging a more sustainable approach to international development work over the last several decades were already evident in the Canadian experience with UNRRA. Canada’s role in UNRRA, largely forgotten today, was the foundation stone of the more activist Canadian foreign policy that emerged in the post-war world, as well as the training ground for one of the architects of that policy, Lester Pearson. Individual Canadians served abroad with UNRRA as welfare officers, nurses, and administrators. Their contribution, along with that of their country, helped to put war-torn countries back on their feet and established a strong precedent for future Canadian involvement in the international community. Canada has remained an active and committed member of the United Nations and its agencies, and Canadian belief in the importance of the United Nations has continued to be a major plank of the foreign policy of every Canadian government since the end of the Second World War. In this context, the UNRRA story is as significant for Canadians as it is for the history of the UN and the other international organizations that continued UNRRA’s work. Canadians’ experience in UNRRA demonstrates that the internal dynamics of a modern international organization are complex and interactive, forged by the interplay of human, economic, cultural, and political factors, and marked by relationships within the organization and with its external constituents that are constantly changing as a consequence of tensions between policy and practice. The UNRRA years made it clear that, over time, successor organizations would have to redefine their organizational identity and purpose to accommodate different cultures, political and religious belief systems, competing systems of economic development, and institutional experiences. For that reason alone, recovering historical memories of those years remains relevant for understanding Canadian involvement in international organizations in the twenty-first century.

Appendix A: UNRRA Assistance

Table A.1 Total UNRRA shipments summary by commodity during entire operations, all commodity programs (THOUSANDS OF U.S. DOLLAR EQUIVALENTS)

Food

Clothing, textiles, and footware

Medical and sanitation

Agricultural rehabilitation

Industrial rehabilitation

Total

1,236,018.7

432,160.8

117,599.5

320,587.2

680,949.7

2,903,412.9

Source: Bureau of Supply, Headquarters, Final Operation Report cited in Woodbridge, UNRRA, 3: 438 Table A.2 Canadian contributions compared to contributions received from top five supplier member countries

Country

Commodities, services, and commitments

Total received from all member countries 3,062,098,113 United States 2,340,935,948 United Kingdom 430,176,299 Canada 123,483,021 Australia 73,740,551 Brazil –

Convertible currency

Non-Convertible currency

Total

317,872,393 225,270,446 45,885,100 138,73,874 – 153,500

280,977,948 102,063,055 168,308,820 1,381,844 3,059,449 –

3,660,948,455 2,668,269,449 617,370,219 138,738,739 76,800,000 153,000

Note: Funds are expressed in U.S. dollar equivalents and cover the entire period of operations. Source: Woodbridge, UNRRA, 3: 500

Appendix B: Headquarters Organization Table B.1 Headquarters Organization, December 1944 UNRRA COUNCIL AND COMMITTEES

DIRECTOR GENERAL

(1a) GENERAL COUNSEL

(1c) FINANCIAL ADVISER

(1b) DIPLOMATIC ADVISER (1e) SENIOR DEPUTY DIRECTOR GENERAL

(2a) OFFICE FOR EUROPE

(2e) DISPLACED PERSONS DIVISION (Director)

(2h) BUREAU OF FINANCE AND ADMINISTRATION (Deputy Director General)

(2b) REGIONAL LIAISON (Deputy Director General)

(2c) LIAISON WITH AMERICAN REPUBLICS (Deputy Director General)

(2f) HEALTH DIVISION (Director)

(2g) WELFARE DIVISION (Director)

(2i) BUREAU OF AREA OPERATIONS (Deputy Director General)

(1d) OFFICE OF PUBLIC INFORMATION (Director)

(2d) SECRETARIAT (Deputy Director General)

(2j) BUREAU OF SUPPLY (Deputy Director General) (S-3a) AGRICULTURAL REHABILITATION DIVISION (Chief)

(S-3b) INDUSTRIAL REHABILITATION DIVISION (Chief)

(S-3c) CLOTHING, TEXTILES AND FOOTWEAR DIVISION (Chief)

(S-3d) MEDICAL AND SANITATION SUPPLIES DIVISION (Chief)

(S-3e) FOOD DIVISION (Chief)

(S-4a) REQUIREMENTS AND ALLOCATIONS COORDINATION BRANCH (Chief)

(S-4b) PROCUREMENT COORDINATION BRANCH (Chief)

(S-4c) STATISTICAL RECORDS AND REPORTS BRANCH (Chief)

(S-4d) CONTRIBUTED SUPPLIES BRANCH (Chief)

(S-4e) OCEAN SHIPPING BRANCH (Chief)

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377

Table B.2 Headquarters Organization, July 1946 DIRECTOR GENERAL SENIOR DEPUTY DIRECTOR GENERAL CHIEF EXECUTIVE OFFICE AND DEPUTY DIRECTOR GENERAL CONTROLLER

OFFICE OF THE GENERAL COUNSEL

OFFICE OF THE DIPLOMATIC ADVISER

BUREAU OF SUPPLY DEPUTY DIRECTOR GENERAL

OFFICE OF PUBLIC INFORMATION

BUREAU OF ADMINISTRATION CHIEF OF BUREAU

FIELD COORDINATING STAFF FAR EASTERN EUROPEAN AFFAIRS MISSION AFFAIRS

BUREAU OF ACCOUNTS AND FINANCE CHIEF OF BUREAU

SECRETARIAT DEPUTY DIRECTOR GENERAL

ECONOMIC ADVISER

BUREAU OF SERVICES DEPUTY DIRECTOR GENERAL

VOLUNTARY & INTERNATIONAL AGENCY LIAISON

DIVISION OF HEALTH

DIVISION OF REPATRIATION & WELFARE

Table B.3 Displaced persons receiving UNRRA assistance by region within Germany, December 1945–June 1947

U.S Zone British Zone French Zone

Dec. 1945

March 1946

June 1946

Sept. 1946

Dec. 1946

March 1947

June 1947

307,301 318,787 51,320

337,503 372,637 48,241

368,210 298,981 42,235

402,961 259,222 33,447

378,277 225,913 35,494

366,179 217,336 36,471

336,701 189,119 33,031

Note: Note that the U.S. Zone had more displaced persons for whom assistance was being provided in June 1947 than in December 1945; the higher statistic reflects the inflow of Jewish infiltrees escaping persecution who took refuge in the American Zone because of its more liberal treatment of Jewish people who suffered dislocation after the war. Source: Woodbridge, UNRRA, 3: 422

Appendix C: UNRRA Salaries

Table C.1 Comparative Salary Schedules

Name Helena Reimer

UNRRA grade Entry levels salary

Exit salary

$1200

5–6

$2400

$3100

$1300

5–8

$2400

$3600

$1300

6–7

$2800

$3245

$1320

5–7

$2650

$3245

$1960 $1500

6–8 6–9 6–8

$2400 $2640 $2800

$3645 $4400 $4145

$1400

6–7

$2400

$3245

$1740

5–7 6–8

$2400 $2800

$3245 $4100

$1600

5–6 5–7

$2400 $2400

$2850 $3245

$1776 $1820

7–8 8

$3200 $2800

$3600 $3645

Civilian Canadian salary and position pay

Clinical instructor at the Winnipeg General Hospital Etta Brenner Nurse at St Paul’s Hospital in Vancouver Justine Delmotte Nurse Royal Victoria Hospital; Canadian military nurse Mary Dunn Metropolitan Health Committee, Vancouver Olga Friesen Victorian Order of Nurses Helen Murphy Grace Hospital, Detroit Marion Pennington Public-health nurse, British Columbia Elizabeth Petrie Board of Health, Chatham Ontario Jean Petty Private nursing NA Madeline Taylor Supervisor, Victorian Order of Nursing in Montreal; Canadian military nurse Janet Vanderwell Private duty nurse, 1937–44 Frances Ward Matron, Department of Pensions and National Health Jean Cockburn Watt Military nurse Lillian Rankin Supervisor, Women’s Directory of Montreal; military nurse

$1820

Source: UNA, UNRRA, S-0518-0086, ‘Outplacement Biographical Sketches.’

380 Appendix C Table C.2 Comparison chart for Canadian salary scales, 1944–5 Canadian military recruiting brochure Category of civilian nurse

Salaries

Staff Head nurse Industrial nurse Operating-room nurse Public-health nurse Supervisor Instructor

$600–$1500 + maintenance $1500 $1500–$1800 $1200–$1500 + maintenance $1500 $1800–$2100 $1500–$2100

Source: Cynthia Toman, ‘Officers and Ladies: Canadian Nursing Sisters, Women’s Work, and the Second World War,’ PhD thesis, University of Ottawa, 2003, 270. Cited with permission.

Appendix D: Canadian UNRRAIDS

This book has presented a number of vignettes featuring Canadian UNRRAIDS that offer a picture of the challenges of their work and the contributions they made. What follows here are the names of other Canadians who served with UNRRA. The list is by no means complete; neither the limitations of space nor the extant records allow us to identify all the Canadian UNRRAIDS, let alone document the work they performed. Below, we limit our attempts to mentioning some representative Canadians who did not figure prominently earlier in the book. Several short biographical profiles are also included. Headquarters, Washington Of the initial eighty UNRRAIDS appointed, twenty left Canada to serve as secretaries within Washington headquarters. There, they gained valuable experience resulting in their subsequent promotions and appointments abroad when UNRRA’s missions opened, most notably to China. Nonetheless, despite UNRRA’s avowed gender equality, there were definite gender barriers to women’s upward mobility within the Administration, as the experiences of many of them – Hazel Doreen Bain, Ruth Winona Buckler, Vivian Yvette Clarke, Virginia Mae Fenwick, Freda Whitely Graham, Frances Wilkinson Hall, Eva May Heath, Kathleen Jane Robinson House, Pearl Lischinsky Mandel, Nancy Josephine Robb, Stella Marie Smith, Vivian Doris Stack, and Margot Olive Thoms – illustrate. The following were also among the Canadians at Washington headquarters. Lismer, Lawrence J. After serving as a captain in the Canadian Army, he resumed his career as a chartered accountant when he was appointed

382 Appendix D

the chief of the Bureau of Accounts, in which capacity he served from 5 May 1946 until March 1947. Petersen, Christian A. Trained as a chemist, he left Lever Brothers to accept the post as chief of the fats, oils, and soap branch of the Bureau of Supply, which included ensuring product-quality control and negotiating all aspects of the procurement of scarce goods with the Combined Boards and member governments. Raper, Cheale E. A specialist in automotive spare parts with extensive wartime experience in the Department of National Defence in Ottawa, he served as a supply analyst on spare parts in the road transport section in the Bureau of Supply. Van Gelder, H.P. A former superintendent of the foreign department of the Canadian Bank of Commerce, he served as deputy director general of finance and administration from 20 February 1944 to 15 May 1944. European Regional Office, London The accounting and secretarial services provided by Canadians, many of whom were recruited from the armed services, were particularly in demand in wartime London. Among those Canadians assigned to administrative and accounting positions within the ERO were Kenneth Arnold Gilmour, Pearl Lischinsky Mandel, Roger Priddle, and Audrey Enid Salter. Others included the following. Campbell, Angus F. A chartered accountant by training, he was promoted from the field, ultimately to become in May 1947 a highly respected deputy controller of the ERO and subsequently recommended for continued employment at the International Refugee Organization. Davis, Captain Frederick John. An agronomist by training, recruited from the Canadian Army, he was appointed the procurement officer in charge of fertilizer but was often given the responsibility for the office during the head of section’s frequent journeys to the continent. Dunnett, Doreen. Recruited from the Royal Canadian Air Force, she was promoted from clerk stenographer to travel officer in 1946, a position that involved interviewing all travellers and called for considerable tact and diplomacy. Phillips, Daphne P. Trained as an economist at the University of Alberta and the London School of Economics, she served proficiently in

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a number of administrative capacities from January 1945 to July 1947, with her most senior appointment to travel officer being made in October 1945. Stein, Major-General Charles. A civil engineer by training and a twenty-six-year veteran of the Canadian Army, he served as the assistant deputy director general, Department of Finance and Administration, from 7 January 1946 to 15 July 1947. European Relief Mission Balkans administrative Seymour, Elizabeth. A native of Ontario, she served as the secretary to the deputy chief of mission, Colonel George White, in Greece and then spent several months as the administrative assistant to the regional director in Crete. Spohn, Patricia Edith Jane. Recruited from the Canadian embassy in Washington in 1946, she was one of many Canadian women who provided competent secretarial services that improved the Administration’s daily operations within its sprawling organization. medical/nursing Abernathy, Christine. Originally assigned as a public-health adviser to the Greek government. Commins, Mary Petronilla. Although born in Canada, she had obtained her Bachelor of Science in Nursing at St Louis University (1935–8) and later worked as a regional supervisor with the American Red Cross before her appointment as a staff nurse in the MERRA camps. Harwood, Mary. Part of the Vancouver contingent, she served in UNRRA’s Italy mission and then transferred to the UNRRA team at Passau in the British Zone of Germany before being reassigned in December 1946 as a hospital consultant, charged with establishing a course for midwives at the State Maternity Hospital in Athens. Troop, Eileen. Served at Tolumbatt before being transferred to the Greek mission.

384 Appendix D

displaced persons/welfare Arnold, Mary. She had not finished her social-work studies at the University of Toronto but had considerable on-the-job training when she received her appointment as a welfare officer in Greece. Ault, Eleanor Frances. A welfare officer originally, she was assigned to work with the girl scouts at Nuseirat camp. On 29 September 1945, when a fire broke out on the Empire Patrol, carrying 496 Yugoslavs from El Shat camp, Ault and her co-worker, Lieutenant Arlene Waldhaus, U.S. Public Health Service, stood by the burning ship, helping to avert panic, and administered first aid for nearly twelve hours until the naval authorities came to the rescue. Italy administrative Guadagni, Zate George Michael. A talented linguist and a civil engineer by training, he acted as the chief requirements analyst in Rome until his termination 15 January 1947 as the mission closed. MacLachlan, Glenvell Lawrence. Recruited from the Canadian Army, he was promoted from a field supply officer to become the chief of the Supply Branch, charged with the equitable distribution of supplies in Italy. Pringle, Lieutenant James. Recruited from the Canadian Army, he was the director of the second-largest displaced-persons camp in southern Italy. nursing de Brincat, Josephine. A graduate of the Winnipeg General Hospital (1925) and the University of Toronto (in industrial nursing, 1942–3), and an accomplished linguist, she had worked as a consultant in industrial hygiene with the Manitoba government and enlisted as a nursing sister in the Canadian Armed Forces before assuming responsibility for the health and welfare of the three thousand residents at Santa Maria di Bagni in southern Italy. McQuarrie, Frances. A graduate of the Vancouver General Hospital

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and the University of British Columbia, and actively engaged in her provincial nursing organization, McQuarrie served in north Africa before her transfer to southern Italy, where she mobilized a hospital and supervised the medical program in one of UNRRA’s camps. She chose to return home in 1946. welfare Chaisson, Josephine D. A highly trained and experienced welfare worker both in Canada and abroad, she had studied at Harvard and Boston University before completing her post-graduate diploma course at the McGill School of Social Work. Prior to joining UNRRA, she had been responsible for several youth hostels in England, which dealt with difficult evacuee children under the auspices of the Canadian Children’s Service. She acted in a consulting role, assisting many communities to launch welfare programs and to train others to continue the work on an independent basis. Germany: Displaced-Persons Operations administrative Many former Canadian servicemen mustered directly out of the Canadian Armed Forces into UNRRA. These individuals oiled the wheels of UNRRA’s Displaced Persons Division at every level of its operation by keeping personnel, supplies, and transportation moving at a time when Germany’s road system was in shambles and crowded with masses of humanity streaming in every direction. They included D.J. Amirault, K.M Beaton, Stanley D. Crowe, T.H. Eaton, C.J. Gauthier, Frances Giske, R.J. Green, F.M. Hames, R. Hughes, E.A. Lindstrom, E.E. Masterson, O.W. Middleton, J.P. O’Connor, W.C. Pettapiece, G.A. Sherwood, W.A. Simon, J.B. Watson, and B. Wells. Other Canadians, such as Moses Aspler, H.T Daunt, and William Van Ark, were appointed as directors, assistant directors, or field supervisors. Also serving in various capacities in Germany were, among others, W. Bagnell, Jill Cavenagh, Ivan Steeves Chapman, Douglas M. Deane, Henry Thomas Daunt, Agathe Marie Dore, Helen K. Dun, Doreen M. Dunnett, Norman J. Easton, Margret Edwards, Ella Fawcett, John R. Fisher, Dorothy F. Geraghty, Marie E. Giolma, Rudolph Gottlieb, Evelyn Gould, Charles B. Grier, M. Guard, Evelyn Frances Hagerty, Rachel

386 Appendix D

K. Haight, Florence Haimes, Marie Hefferman, Gloria Queen Hughes, Harold Humphreys, Armon Irwin, Vera Eileen Jacobs, Margret Joyce Jeffrey, Mabel Helen Laidlaw, Graham D. Lewis, Margret Loughborough, G. Jane Luzine, Margret MacFarlane, Eliz N. Mackay, Ethel M. McCartney, Mary G. McLachlin, Eric Godfrey Mitchell, Donald Morton, Doris Myers, Olive R. O’Connor, Johan F. Oosthoek, Floris May Pennington, Floris Mary Perkins, Louis P. Plamondon, Stephen A. Shando, Frederick Simonet, J. Stoot, Anthony Taraska, Sydney J. Taylor, Doreen M. Thomas, Seldon Brook Thomas, Joan C. Tomkinson, Eileen M. Tomlin, Eunice Riexinger, Peter MacNair Robertson, David E. Rowe, Dorothy J. Williams, and Bernadette M. Wrynn. Also serving were the following. Bryanton, Edna M. Despite her previous training as a psychiatric nurse at the University of Alberta, she had been employed in the personnel field with the Royal Canadian Air Force prior to her UNRRA appointment. She received a series of field promotions, from administrative assistant with the UNRRA team at Augustdorf, Westphalia, in the British Zone to personnel officer at regional headquarters. Davidson, Eileen. She served as the child-welfare officer in the Regensberg District, American Zone, where her duties included supervising the care of unaccompanied children and arranging their immigration to the United States. Pumple, Ellen. A graduate of the University of Toronto Social Work, she had left the staff of the Catholic Family Services in Ottawa to enlist in the Canadian Women’s Army Corps (CWAC) and was subsequently affiliated with the Canadian Red Cross before being assigned as the assistant welfare officer at Augsburg in south-central Germany. Rhinewine, Sarah. A social worker from Toronto, she was appointed the assistant welfare officer at St Ottilien in southern Germany. Steinhouse, Herbert. A Montreal-born journalist, novelist, and broadcaster, he flew with the RCAF during the war and afterwards became an information officer for UNRRA. He stumbled on the ‘real’ story of Oskar Schindler over fifty years ago but his account remained unpublished until 1994 because stories of ‘good Germans’ were simply not wanted. St John, Claire. A social worker by training (University of British Columbia, 1940), she worked for the British Columbia provincial government in Vancouver before enlisting in 1943 at the Canadian Army

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Medical Corp, Pacific Command, from where she was recruited to UNRRA’s Welfare Division. health/medical Dickman, Ika. She was a medical officer at Pocking, about twenty miles southwest of Passau, close to the Austrian border, and the second-largest UNRRA assembly centre, caring for refugees who were mostly of Jewish heritage. MacNeil, Dr C. The only Canadian doctor in the British Zone, he served with Edna Osborne at Fallingbostel near Belsen in the British Zone. McCreary, Dr. A graduate in medicine from the University of Toronto, Wing Commander McCreary was appointed in 1945 to SHAEF, where he conducted the initial nutritional evaluation of the Dutch children evacuated to England. nursing Bartsch, C. Louise. A Maritimer by birth, she received her nursing degree from the Toronto General Hospital. Already an experienced hospital supervisor, she had served in UNRRA’s Italian mission before her appointment to UNRRA’s flagship hospital at Belsen, where she remained for a relatively short period before resigning. Bernardin, Lieutenant Germine. Recruited from the Canadian Army, she was appointed as the team nurse at the Polish camp at Siegen in the southern part of the British Zone. Brenner, Etta J. Initially assigned to Italy, she then served as the nurse on the UNRRA team at St Ottilien and Memmingen in the U.S. Zone. Brenton, Janet. Appointed team nurse at Hoxter, a Polish displacedpersons assembly centre in the British Zone. Cameron, Helen. A graduate of Mount St Vincent College (1929), she studied nursing at the Believe School of Nursing in New York State (1934-7) and New York University (1938-42). She had been the supervisor of the Oyster Bay Visiting Nurse’ Association in British Columbia before her appointment as a team nurse in a large assembly centre in the American Zone.

388 Appendix D

Delmotte, Captain Justine Marie-Rose. A graduate of the Royal Victoria Hospital in Montreal, with post-graduate education in public health at the School for Graduate Nurses, McGill (1948), she saw military service with the South African Military Nursing Service and in Italy before serving with UNRRA in Italy and the American Zone of Germany at Ansbach. Dobson, Hazel. Originally from Vancouver, she was a graduate of Vancouver General Hospital School of Nursing and then obtained a certificate in public health nursing from UBC (1933) before joining the Metropolitan Health Committee of Greater Vancouver. She served at Schloss Langenzelle, Stuttgart, and at Kloster Indersdorf. Gleason, Heather. Originally appointed as hospital supervisor, she was reassigned in November 1945 as a district nursing supervisor for the Osnabruck area in the British Zone, where she carried out a preliminary survey of nursing. Goldberg, Cecelia. Her first assignment – supervising health and sanitation in the three Kreises, or counties, of Weiblingen, Schloss Langenzell, and Landsberg – typified the gruelling conditions in the field. Inglis, Margaret May. Originally from Ontario, she served as a nurse in UNRRA’s Italy mission before being posted to the British Zone at Adelheide, where her dissatisfaction led to her decision to return home. Lateigne, Philomena. She served with UNRRA in Italy before her appointment as team nurse at Wasseralfingen in the American Zone. Lazecko, Jean. A Canadian from Quebec with Russian parentage, her language skills would be called upon to diffuse potentially explosive situations when the unexpected arrival of Russian POWs at Belsen hospital almost erupted into a riot. Madden, Norah W. After surviving the gruelling physical hardships of nursing in the displaced-persons camps in southern Italy, she was posted to the Russian displaced-persons camp at Bockhorn in the British Zone. Pearl, Lieutenant F.S. Recruited from the Canadian Army, she was promoted from team nurse at Gottingen to the supervisory echelon in the Osterode area in the British Zone. Pennington, Marian Miles. A graduate of the combined University of British Columbia / Vancouver Hospital Nursing program, she was a

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public-health nurse in the Vancouver area who enlisted in the CWAC and served as a welfare officer in Washington and later for the province of Saskatchewan. Within three days of being discharged, she sailed for Europe where, after a whirlwind of assignments, in which she was moved from Heidelberg to Karlsruhe to Munich, she was finally assigned to the regional headquarters at Regensburg in the American Zone. Petrie, Elizabeth. A graduate of the University of Toronto School of Nursing public health diploma course, she had resigned her position as a public-health nurse with the Chatham Board of Health to accept an appointment with UNRRA. Along with Wilda G.E. Rattray, E. Thompson, and Jean D. Williams, she was assigned to UNRRA Team 302 at Wildflecken, known as the Wild Place, in the American Zone. Petty, Jane. She had a challenging appointment as team nurse at Stuttgart, a multinational camp composed of Ukrainians, Russians, Jews, Poles, and Czech slave labour. Rankin, Lieutenant Lillian. Recruited from the Canadian Army Medical Corp, with specialized training in both public health and psychiatric nursing, she served as a district nursing supervisor in the Wolfenbuttelthe/Wolfenbuttel area in the British Zone. Wade, Mary. Assigned to a large assembly centre at Schleswig, near the Danish border, in the British Zone, she coped despite the fact there was no UNRRA team doctor. welfare Canadian social workers also volunteered their services within UNRRA’s Displaced Persons Division, believing that true rehabilitation went well beyond meeting the immediate food and shelter needs of those forced from their homelands. Frances Crowther and M.C. Johnson were among the social workers assigned to help war victims recover their personal and professional identities. Other welfare workers included the following. Bruce, Marnie. A graduate of McMaster University and the London School of Economics, and a former field worker with the Toronto Children’s Aid Society, she served as a welfare officer from 1945 to 1947 both in the Balkan mission and in Germany.

390 Appendix D

Delongle, Denise. This French-Canadian welfare officer was assigned to several different camps in the British Zone; her experience at Gottingen from June through the end of July – repatriating five thousand Italians over a two-day period, and establishing UNRRA’s authority over strong-willed Polish camp leaders who resented UNRRA’s supervision of their activities – mirrored what other Canadians faced throughout the zone in the start-up period. Green, Nita. A social worker from Cornwall, she had studied at the Sorbonne before pursuing further studies in social work at the University of Toronto from 1934 to 1935. Originally appointed as a welfare officer at Hof, she received several grade promotions culminating in her appointment as the area repatriation officer on Team 1047. Holt, Berna. After obtaining her BA from the University of British Columbia, she studied social work at the University of Toronto and had over a decade of social-work experience in British Columbia – including a stint as the provincial welfare visitor – before serving abroad as an UNRRA welfare officer from 1945 to 1947. Lutack, Anna. A graduate of the University of Manitoba School of Social Work, she had been on the staff of the Division of Child Welfare, Department of Health and Public Welfare, in Winnipeg, and also served in the CWAC, before being assigned to a child-search and repatriation team in the American Zone. Page, Irene. A graduate of the University of Toronto School of Social Work, she had been the assistant superintendent, Catholic Aid Society, in London, Ontario, and then served as a social worker with the Royal Canadian Air Force Medical Corps before her appointment as an UNRRA child-welfare specialist from 1945 to 1947. Patry, Gabrielle M. She had been with the Mental Hygiene Clinic, Ontario Hospital, in Brockville before her appointment as the principal welfare officer at Dillingen in the American Zone, and then served as a consultant on a U.S. Army screening team. Her final posting was as an area welfare officer in charge of twenty-six thousand displaced persons. Selby, Harriet. The former executive secretary of the Regina Welfare Bureau, she was appointed as a welfare officer in the Balkans before being transferred to the British Zone in Germany, at Warburg. Wodlinger, David. A graduate of the British Columbia Law Society and

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the Toronto School of Social Work, he had been the director of the Division on Post-war Research in the Department of Labour in Ottawa. Originally appointed as a field supervisor, he was promoted to UNRRA deputy director of the western half of the American Zone but his final assignment was as the director of the American Joint Distribution Committee in the British Zone. European Region Liaison Missions France Holmes, Lieutenant Commander David Eric. His naval background and business experience with American Express proved useful for his UNRRA appointment as the mission’s director of transportation, responsible for all industrial-rehabilitation supplies in UNRRA’s European programs. China Among the over fifty Canadians serving in China were Catherine A. Allin, Jack Becker, Peter Campbell, Florence Clark, Vivian Clarke, Margret S. Corry, Frances Veola Dahlgrew, Marcelle Diacon, James Endicott, Donald K. Faris, Dorothy Geraghty, Charles Gihon, Freda Graham, Emile Grant, Mary Miles Haid, Amy Hall, Harry Hemmings, Frank House, Kathleen House, Mary Keelan, Leonard Kuypers, Rundall M. Lewis, Cecil Lockhart-Smith, William A. Logan, Olga Owen, Mary Mathieson, Robert McMullin, Marion Menzies, Mary O’Sullivan Merrymam, Olga Mary Elizabeth Miles, Mary Monzik, Rita O’Brien, Nancy Robb, Frederick W. Saunders, Mary Sheridan, Harold R. Sherwood, Vivian Stack, Gordon Stepehens, Lillian Syme, Edyth Lillian Wallace, Marguerite Ward, Margret White, Rosalind A. Williams, and Margret Wilson. Others were: administrative Bowles, Newton. Born in Chengdu, Szechuan Province, the son of a Methodist preacher, he graduated from Victoria College, University of Toronto, and was at Johns Hopkins University when he left to serve with the British War Services China Desk. His wartime work in Washington, planning post-war civilian relief, led to his recruitment to the UNRRA Shanghai office in 1945. He supervised two thousand UNRRA

392 Appendix D

relief workers who provided humanitarian relief across the battle lines in the middle of a civil war. Braithwaite, Verna Margaret Sweezey. She had previously worked with the Canadian Red Cross Society in England arranging fire watchand-rescue squadrons, canteens, and liaison with the military authorities and the International Red Cross in respect to prisoners-of-war. During her thirteen months with UNRRA, she worked first as a secretary and later as an administrative assistant for the director of the Repatriation Branch in Hong Kong. Britton, Lloyd Rutledge. A former accountant with the Canadian Army, his first UNRRA assignment had been as a reports analyst with UNRRA’s Washington headquarters before overseeing requisitions for procurement as assistant stores manager with the China Office. Brown, Harold D. An old China hand, with a good command of Chinese, developed during his tenure as professor of biology at West China University from 1923 to 1929 (directly after receiving a PhD in agronomy and plant breeding from the University of Cornell), he served as the chief of the other commodities section, Food Division, responsible for negotiating the allocation and distribution of over a million tons of foodstuff with the CNRRA. Corry, John A. Trained as a mechanical engineer but with extensive previous experience in personnel work, he headed personnel operations throughout 1947 as the China mission prepared to be liquidated. Daly, Conor Joseph. His extensive business and wartime-procurement experience proved invaluable for his work as the assistant controller in UNRRA’s Shanghai Office. Fitzrandolph, Major John. Born in New Brunswick, with a distinguished service record within the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and the Canadian Army, he was appointed as an economic analyst in UNRRA’s London office in March 1946 and was then assigned as an intelligence officer to the China Office in June 1946, responsible for a regional suboffice set up to deal with displaced persons. Mackenzie, Hugh Alexander. An ex-Liberal MP for Lambton-Kent, he was originally prepared to support the CNRRA but was soon disillusioned by its toleration of runaway inflation, corruption, and graft as he struggled to oversee the equitable distribution of UNRRA supplies. He

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regularly encountered personal peril on his inspection trips to the Yellow River Project as the Kuomintang intensified its daily air attacks and blockaded deliveries of UNRRA supplies. Petty, Henry A. His previous experience in materiel management at Defence Industries Limited in Ontario made him a logical candidate to head the UNRRA Chungking supply depot. Powers, Walter Thomas. A native of British Columbia and a chartered accountant by training, he was assigned significant accounting responsibilities in the China mission. agricultural and industrial rehabilitation Baird, Robert P. Having run his own profitable steel-fabrication factory in Vancouver and later serving with the Royal Army Service Corps during the war, he was transferred from his position as the assistant director in the UNRRA Displaced Persons Division in Germany to Chungking in January 1946 as an industrial-rehabilitation field officer. Chepil, William Stephen. A highly respected agronomist, with a PhD in soils management from the University of Minnesota, he advised the Chinese government on soil conservation, including the establishment of a soil-demonstration farm in Nanking. McConkey, Major Oswald Murray. A well-respected agronomist in Canada, McConkey had served with the Canadian Army on the staff of SHAEF, directing distribution of food in Europe, before taking up his assignment as a regional rehabilitation officer at Mukden with UNRRA. During his eighteen months in this job, he established foragecrop research stations and tractor-training programs and introduced over four hundred improved crop varieties. Rundall, McGill Lewis. A talented linguist, able to speak Mandarin Chinese, he left his wartime job as an agricultural botanist in the Department of Agriculture to serve with UNRRA in the most remote areas of northern China, where he had previously (1929-31) worked with the Missionary Society of the Church of England. Williams, Fred Murdo. An electrical engineer by training, he served as a lieutenant commander in the Canadian Navy during the war, his responsibilities including the overseeing of all ship repairs for Naval

394 Appendix D

Service Headquarters. He was instrumental in the successful installation of many of UNRRA’s power-plant projects in China. health/medical Avison, Dr Douglas Bray. With a PhD in public health in addition to his medical degree, he left his position as the medical director of the Union Board of Health, Okanogan valley, British Columbia, to become the regional medical officer in Canton, where he also provided a series of public-health lectures at the Canton Central Hospital. Wood, Dr William J. Originally from Winnipeg, and the former assistant chief of the medical services in the Canadian Army, he originally had served as the director of the training program for UNRRA’s Health Division personnel but later responded to the organization’s urgent request for help in controlling the cholera epidemic in the Chungking area. nursing/friends ambulance unit Besides the individuals discussed earlier in this book, the Canadians involved with the FAU included Russell Beck, Andy Briad, John Terrence Dorland (who returned to Canada after only a few months in China), Reverend Dr James Finlay, Jack Gerson A. Elmer Hobbs, Bert King, Frank Miles, Reg Smith, Anthony Stickings, and George Yang. A few others: Abbott, Edward Vale. When the unit moved to Honan, Abbott, then a third-year University of Toronto medical student, was recalled from the Mohei team – assigned to provide medical treatment to French soldiers retreating out of Indo-China – to replace Walter Alexander as the business manager in the Tengchung hospital, Yunnan Province, in late December 1945. Awmack, Joe. As a young British Columbia University student, he worked for the FAU throughout China, transporting orphans and medical supplies for UNRRA in Yunnan Province and helping the convoy to relocate to Honan. Once there, Awmack’s mobile workshop played an important role in the rehabilitation of Hwa Mei and Chengte hospitals before he joined a project to revive the livestock industry in the tiny hamlet of Sher-it-ou.

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Beck, Howard Russell. From Prince Edward Island, a granite polisher and mechanic by training, he transported supplies throughout western China. Brown, Wes. Like other members of the FAU, he heard of the work of the convoy as a conscientious objector in the work camps in northern Ontario and British Columbia and then at Toronto General Hospital. Although trained as a stenographer, he was assigned to the transport division of the China Convoy and ran the unit’s depot in Hankow until the move to Honan, where he was involved in rehabilitating mission hospitals and opening orphanages. Dodds, Jack. A third-year geology student at the University of Toronto, he heard about the FAU’s China Convoy while doing alternative wartime service in a forestry work camp near Banff. Trained as a medical technician at Pendle Hill, he took a portable X-ray machine and lab equipment deep behind Communist lines in northern Honan when one of FAU’s teams retreated. Fransham, Delf. Originally from Montreal, he received specialized training in X-ray maintenance in Philadelphia but served as a lab technician and medical technician in the field, working at Yew Jang Hospital in Yunnan with the French troops coming out of French Indochina and then setting up the water-filtration system in the cholera hospital in Luichow. In Honan, he was assigned to one of three teams working in the northern part of the province and then seconded as a lab technician to the Lutheran hospital at Hsu Chang, south of Chengchow, where relief responsibilities left little time for lab work. Green, Kathleen. As a university student, she played a key role in helping Fred Haslam organize the group within Canada and then oversaw the administrative details in Pendle Hill and later in Calcutta as the unit moved forward to China. Once in China, she assisted Stan Outhouse. Howarth, Wilfred. A native Albertan, he was a machinist by trade who, after receiving only rudimentary training at the General Electric X-ray plant in Chicago, became legendary for keeping the FAU’s X-ray machines running with Chinese-made fluid that did not match the manufacturer’s specifications. By October 1946, he was engaged in surveying the medical-equipment needs of the Chengchow area. McArthur, Russell. A university graduate and educator, he was ultimately assigned as medical mechanic, a task for which he believed him-

396 Appendix D

self ill-equipped. He returned home shortly after the war with Japan ended. McMurtry, Reverend Douglas. Volunteering for service with the FAU only three weeks after being ordained in Saskatchewan, he was a jack of all trades in the Kunming and later Kutsing areas from his arrival in May 1945 until the move to Honan, even helping to deal with the outbreak of cholera. In December 1945 he joined Francis Starr’s convoy group, which was moving medical supplies to Chengchow, the FAU’s headquarters in Honan. Once there, he was seconded to become the secretary-treasurer of the medical subcommittee of the Honan International Relief Committee, responsible for the delivery and distribution of medical supplies. Mjolsness, Verdine. Trained as a mechanic in Alberta, he spent most of his time hauling supplies on the main convoy route to Chungking. Outhouse, Stanley. After graduating from high school, he worked as a bookkeeper until being assigned to alternative wartime service in a forestry camp in northern British Columbia and at the Toronto General Hospital. Arriving in China in May 1945, he acted as the unit’s bookkeeper in Chungking (the wartime capital) and then moved to Shanghai after the convoy relocated its headquarters there. Wright, Reverend George. An ordained United Church minister in Saskatchewan, he was selected by his fellow FAU members as section leader for the Kutsing area, where he oversaw the operations of the small hospital and the FAU’s major depot.

Notes

Abbreviations AL AO BC BRW CASW CCC CJCCCNA CH CNA CQYMA CRNBC DCER DEA DF EB EO EVA EW FH FLP HC HD IMS JAE JB

Auraria Library Archives of Ontario Brooke Claxton Fonds Beatrice Roberts Warmski Private Papers Canadian Association of Social Workers Papers Canadian Commercial Corporation Canadian Jewish Congress Charitable Committee National Archives Carl Hiltz Private Papers Canadian Nursing Association Fonds Canadian Quaker Yearly Meeting Archives College of Registered Nurses of British Columbia Documents on Canadian External Relations Department of External Affairs Department of Finance Elizabeth Brown Private Papers Ethel Ostry Fonds Edward V. Abbott Private Papers Edgar M. Wahlberg Fonds Fred Hoehler Fonds Frank and Libbie Park Fonds Harry Cassidy Fonds Hazel Dobson Fonds International Migration Service John Alexander Edmison Fonds Joshua Brown Family Fonds

398 Notes to pages 3–12 JD KP LAC LBP LC LF LM McG/ES MGB PC QUA TC UBCA UCC UMA UMLSWA UNA UTA VUA WGH/HSCNA WSR

Jack Dodds Private Papers W.L.M. King Fonds Library and Archives Canada L.B. Pearson Fonds, pre-1948 Series Lyle Creelman Private Papers Lightall Family Fonds Leonard Marsh Fonds Mary Agnes Craig McGeachy / Edwin Schuller Fonds Mabel Geldard-Brown Fonds Pickering College Queen’s University Archives Department of Trade and Commerce University of British Columbia Archives United Church of Canada University of Manitoba Archives University of Minnesota Libraries, Social Welfare Archives United Nations Archives University of Toronto Archives Victoria University Archives, University of Toronto Winnipeg General Hospital, Health Sciences Centre Nurses Alumnae Archives William Selby Rogers Private Papers

Introduction 1 QUA, JAE, locator 2330, vol. 4, file 4, Travel Notes of J.A. Edmison, Sunday, 22 April 1945. 2 Sayre, ‘The Tasks of Relief and Rehabilitation in Europe and Asia Today,’ 14. 3 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/2.0.6:12, J.A. Edmison to Fletcher C. Kettle, deputy director, D.P., UNRRA Weekly Report, 20–26 May 1945, 9. 4 UMA, EO, Ethel Ostry, unpublished mss. (edited by Elizabeth O. Fischer), ‘After the Holocaust: My Work with UNRRA,’ 1. 5 Ibid., 2. 6 Ibid., 4. 7 Ibid., 67–8. 8 Woodbridge, UNRRA. 9 Hilmer, A Foremost Nation; Chapnick, The Middle Power Project. 10 See, for example, Eayrs, In Defence of Canada: Appeasement and Rearmament. Also: Granatstein, Canada’s War; Holmes, The Shaping of the Peace, vol. 1; Bullock ‘The Development of Canadian and American Wheat Policy.’ 11 See English, The Shadow of Heaven; and Kinnear, Woman of the World.

Notes to pages 13–21

399

12 Tomkinson, ‘Our Share in UNRRA.’ 13 Woodbridge, UNRRA. 14 The first director of the Displaced Persons Division, Fred K Hoehler, found Woodward’s history of UNRRA a disappointment because it failed to portray the ‘frustration and disappointments due to the long delays in transportation or because of petty national politics’ or the ‘ pleasures and satisfactions experienced by UNRRA workers when the needs of the people were well served.’ UMLSWA, FH, vol. 29, file 301, ‘Review of Woodbridge’s Book,’ 15 January 1951. 15 See Mansell, Forging the Future. 16 See, for example, Toman and Stuart, ‘Emerging Scholarship in Nursing History’; and Mortimer and McGann, eds., New Directions in the History of Nursing. 1. Creating UNRRA 1 Woodbridge, UNRRA, 1:78. 2 See Fox, ‘The Origins of UNRRA,’ 562; and Johnson, ‘International Politics and the Structure of International Organizations,’ 521–7. 3 Tomkinson, ‘Our Share in UNRRA,’ 184. 4 Sayre, ‘The Tasks of Relief and Rehabilitation in Europe and Asia Today,’ 14. 5 Johnson, ‘International Politics and the Structure of International Organizations,’ 512–17; Holmes, The Shaping of Peace, 1:34. 6 Fox, ‘The Origins of UNRRA,’ 562–3. 7 By June 1943, the Inter-Allied Committee had completed its preliminary estimates of the post-war needs of Belgium, Czechoslovakia, Greece, the Netherlands, Norway, Poland, Yugoslavia, and the Free French. See Fox, ‘The Origins of UNRRA,’ 564. 8 Ibid., 562–3. 9 Library and Archives of Canada (LAC), Minutes of Cabinet War Committee, vol. 6, meeting no. 108 (7), 18 September 1941, and no. 109, 23 September 1941. 10 Granatstein, A Man of Influence, 139, and Canada’s War, 295–300. 11 This body went by various names over time: Executive Committee (May 1942); Policy Committee (August 1942); Central Committee (May 1943). 12 LAC, Minutes of Cabinet War Committee, vol. 9, meeting no. 168 (92–30), 4 June 1942. See also LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 2295-G-40, File Memorandum, secret, Proposed United Nations Relief Council, 4 June 1942, and DCER, vol. 9, docs. 661 and 662, 768–9. 13 LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 2295-G-40, L.B. Pearson to W.L.M. King, 20 July 1942.

400 Notes to pages 21–7 14 Cf. Granatstein, Canada’s War, 302. 15 DCER, vol. 9, doc. 664, 770–1, Minutes of War Committee, vol. 10, meeting no. 181 (2–3), 29 July 1942. 16 Granatstein, A Man of Influence, 140. 17 United States Department of State Records, RG 840, 50/642, 3086–7, ‘Confidential Memorandum of Conversation with Sir Frederick Leith-Ross, Ottawa,’ 30 July 1942. See also LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 2295-G-40, Sir Frederick Leith-Ross to Norman Robertson, 31 July 1942. 18 LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 2295-G-40, draft letter to Vincent Massey, 4 August 1942. 19 Susan Armstrong-Reid, interview with John Holmes, Toronto, 16 May 1978. The idea of the functional principle is developed more fully in ArmstrongReid, ‘Canada’s Role in the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration, 1942–1947,’ 1–63. 20 Miller, ‘Canada at San Francisco,’ 101. 21 Anglin, ‘Canadian Policy towards International Institutions, 1939–1950,’ 264. 22 LAC, Privy Council Office Registry Files, vol. 44, file W-22-1, Hume Wrong, memo, ‘Notes on Some Questions of International Organization Which May Arise during the Meeting of the Relief Council at Atlantic City,’ 3 November 1943. 23 DCER, vol. 9, doc. 665, 771, Minutes of Cabinet War Committee, vol. 11, meeting no. 200 (4–5), 2 December 1942; LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 2295-G-40, Vincent Massey to secretary of states for external affairs, 23 December 1942. 24 See the memoirs of the Canadian diplomat Charles Ritchie, The Siren Years, 195. 25 Granatstein, A Man of Influence, 110. 26 See Munton and Page, ‘Planning in the East Block,’ 637. 27 English, The Shadow of Heaven, 280. 28 LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 2295-G-40, Hume Wrong to Norman Robertson, 24 December 1942. 29 DCER, vol. 9, doc. 667, 773–4, memorandum from under-secretary of state for external affairs to prime minister, 18 January 1943. 30 Ibid. See also Granatstein, A Man of Influence, 140–2. 31 Ibid., 142. 32 DCER, vol. 9, doc. 670, 777–8, secretary of state for external affairs to minister in United States, 8 February 1943. 33 LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 2295-G-40, C.W. Clark to Norman Robertson, ‘secret,’ 3 March 1943. See also DCER, vol. 9, doc. 676, 783–4.

Notes to pages 27–34

401

34 Pearson, Mike, 1:255. 35 DCER, vol. 9, doc. 677, 784–5, minutes of Cabinet War Committee, 3 March 1943. 36 LAC, KP, Mackenzie King Diary, 31 March 1943, 237–8. 37 Ibid., 7 April 1943, 258–9. 38 LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 2295-G-40, secretary of state for external affairs to minister in the United States, 7 April 1943; DCER, vol. 9, doc. 688, 798. 39 Pearson, Mike, 1:257. 40 Ibid., 1:252. 41 Columbia University, Lehman Suite, Herbert Lehman Papers, Special Files, ‘Memorandum of a Conversation with L.B. Pearson,’ 26 January 1943. 42 Department of State Records RG 59/840–50, ‘Memorandum of a Conversation Acheson-Pearson,’ 4 March 1943, 2. 43 For a more critical view of Pearson’s handling of his new diplomatic responsibilities in Washington, see Chapnick, The Middle Power Project. 44 English, Shadow of Heaven, 283. 45 Bercuson, True Patriot, 124. 46 House of Commons Debates, 3 (17 April 1944), 2118. 47 Ibid., 18 April 1944, 2132. 48 Ibid., 2148. See also Debates, 18 June 1943, 3772. 49 Ibid., 18 April 1944, 2141–2, 2144–5. 50 Ibid., 2158, 2166. 51 Ibid., 2135. 52 M.J. Coldwell, Speech before American Labor Conference on International Affairs, New York, 16 December 1944. 53 Bracken, ‘What Do the Progressive Conservatives Stand For?’ 28. 54 Bothwell and Kilbourn, C.D. Howe, 102, 199, 200, 202. See also Bercuson, True Patriot. 55 Whitaker, The Governing Party, 137. 56 LAC, BC, vol. 180, Brooke Claxton, ‘World Community Chest,’ radio address over CHCH, Montreal, 22 April 1944. 57 Ibid., vol. 185, Brooke Claxton, ‘The Outlook for International Co-operation,’ 27 March 1946. 58 See also LAC, ibid., vol. 180, ‘Canada’s Place,’ a speech given on 4 February 1944. 59 LAC, ibid., vol. 136, Brooke Claxton, ‘UNRRA Breaks New Ground.’ This speech was delivered over the national radio network on Sunday, 5 December 1943. Similar sentiments can be found in other Claxton speeches. 60 Claxton, ‘World Community Chest.’ 61 Claxton, ‘The Place of Canada in Post-war Organization,’ 185.

402 Notes to pages 34–43 62 English, Shadow of Heaven, 268. 63 LAC, LBP, vol. 10, file ‘Speeches and Material, UNRRA,’ ‘UNRRA Doorway to Co-operative Nationalism, Nations Working Together Can’t Afford to Take Any Steps Backward.’ 64 Pearson, Canada and Post-War Organization, 13. 65 Ibid., 9. 66 ‘Canada and the Building of Peace,’ 2. See also Munton and Page, ‘Planning in the East Block,’ 669. 67 Tevlin, ‘Canada and UNRRA,’ 17. 68 Wilson, ‘Canada, Food and the United Nations,’ 73. 69 Annual Report of the Deputy Minister of Trade and Commerce, 1 April 1945, 7. 70 Bothwell, Drummond, and English, Canada since 1945, 18. 71 For example, Parliament in August 1944 passed the Export Credit Insurance Act to increase export trade. Annual Report of the Deputy Minister of Trade and Commerce, 1 April 1945, 15. 72 Hart, A Trading Nation, 125–33. See also Muirhead, The Development of Postwar Canadian Trade Policy, 33. 73 Murray, ‘What UNRRA Means to Canada.’ 74 LAC, KP, vol. 375, A.L. Telfer to Mackenzie King, 21 June 1944. 75 Canadian Manufacturer’s Association Post-War Planning Conference, 12–14 June 1944, Industrial Canada, 9 (July 1944). 76 Coldwell, ‘UNRRA Acts Like a Friendly Mid-Wife to Bring Peace into the World,’ 785. 77 Coldwell, ‘UNRRA – The United Nations’ Bid for a Lasting Peace,’ 668. 78 Cross, ‘For a Better Post-war World: UNRRA Conference,’ 30, 36. 79 Canadian Yearbook, 1946, 200–7. 80 Ibid., 200. 81 Bothwell, Drummond, and English, Canada since 1945, 84. 82 LAC, KP, King Diary, 22 June 1944. 83 Tomkinson, ‘Our Share in UNRRA,’ 89. 2. Canada at the Council Sessions 1 Cf. Woodbridge, UNRRA, 1:22–4. 2 LAC, KP, vol. 348, L.B. Pearson to N.A. Robertson, 28 October 1943 (WA-S5398). 3 LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 2295-G-40C, H.H. Wrong to L.B. Pearson, 18 October 1943. 4 L.B. Pearson, ‘To the Staff of UNRRA,’ 5 November 1944, Words and Occasions, 60.

Notes to pages 44–50

403

5 LAC, KP, vol. 334, file 290428, Brooke Claxton to W.L.M. King, ‘Note on the First Session of the Council of the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration, held at Atlantic City.’ 6 LAC, KP, vol. 338, file 290932, Brooke Claxton to W.L.M. King, 19 November 1943. 7 Claxton to King, ‘Note on the First Session of the Council.’ 8 LAC, KP, vol. 338, file 290428, Brooke Claxton to W.L.M. King, 19 November 1943; LAC, RG 25, DEA, ‘Address by Brooke Claxton before UNRRA Council of the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration, held at Atlantic City,’ 12 November 1943. 9 Claxton to King, ‘Note on the First Session of the Council.’ 10 LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 2295-G-40C, J. Deutsch to H.H. Wrong, 18 November 1943 (WA-5746). 11 LAC, DEA, file 2295-G-40C, H.H. Wrong to J. Deutsch, 8 November 1943. 12 LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 2295-G-40C, W.C. Clark to H.H. Wrong, 18 November 1943. 13 DCER, vol. 9 (1942–3), doc. 714, ‘secret,’ ‘Memorandum from the Department of External Affairs to Cabinet War Committee,’ 4 December 1943. See also LAC, DF, vol. 3396, L.B. Pearson to N.A. Robertson, 21 November 1943 (WA-5804). 14 LAC, DF, vol. 3396, W.C. Clark to H.H. Wrong, 18 November 1943 (WA5804). 15 LAC, KP, vol. 338, Brooke Claxton to W.L.M. King, 19 November 1943. 16 DCER, ‘Memorandum from the Department of External Affairs.’ 17 LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 7-AD(s), ‘secret,’ ‘Memorandum on the UNRRA Conference, Atlantic City, November 1943,’ 6 December 1943. 18 DCER, ‘Memorandum from the Department of External Affairs.’ 19 LAC, RG 25, DEA, ‘Memorandum on the UNRRA Conference.’ 20 Jessup, ‘The First Session of Council of UNRRA,’ 103. See also Jessup, ‘UNRRA Sample of World Organization.’ 21 Johnson, ‘International Politics and the Structure of International Organization,’ 522. 22 KP, vol. 343, file 3694, H.H. Wrong, ‘Notes on some questions of international organization which may arise during the meeting of the Relief Council at Atlantic City,’ 3 November 1943. 23 Cf. Fisher, ‘The Constitution and the Work of UNRRA,’ 322. 24 Pearson, Mike, 1:255. 25 LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 2295-Q-40C, N.A. Robertson to Leighton McCarthy, 17 December 1943.

404 Notes to pages 50–9 26 27 28 29 30

31

32 33 34 35 36 37

38

39

40 41

42 43

44 45 46 47

Woodbridge, UNRRA, 1:26–30. Hilliker, Canada’s Department of External Affairs, 1:300. Law, ‘World Organization and UNRRA,’ 464. Pearson, ‘UNRRA Faces Action,’ 461–2. LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 2295-Q-C, H.F. Angus to N.A. Robertson, ‘UNRRA Meeting in Montreal,’ August 1944. See also DCER, 10 (1944–5, pt. 1), doc. 1163. LAC, KP, Mackenzie King Diary, 18 September 1944. For the speech itself, see KP, vol. 97, ‘Address of Welcome – Honourable W.L. Mackenzie King to the Second Session of the Council of the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration, Montreal September 18, 1944.’ Woodbridge, UNRRA, 1:39. Journal, Second Session of the Council, 26 September 1944, 144. LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 2295-G-40C, L.B. Pearson, ‘Draft of Mr. Pearson’s Speech to Conclude the Conference.’ Pearson, ‘UNRRA Faces Action,’ 461–2. Pearson, Mike, 1:259. LAC, Privy Council Office, Registry files, vol. 44, file (W-22-I), War 1942–5, J.A. Chapdelaine, ‘Confidential Report on the Second Session of the UNRRA Council held at Montreal, September 16–26, 1944.’ LAC, KP, vol. 343, file 3694, H.F. Angus to N.A. Robertson, confidential memorandum, ‘Canadian Delegation at Conference, September 27, 1944.’ See also DCER, 10 (1944–5, pt. 1), doc. 1165, 1493–4. LAC, KP, vol. 343, file 3694, N.A. Robertson, ‘Memorandum for the Prime Minister,’ 28 September 1944. See also DCER, vol. 10 (1944–5, part 1), doc. 1165, 1493. LAC, KP, King Diary, 29 September 1944. LAC, Department of Agriculture Papers, vol. 3420, Elgin E. Wasson, ‘Report: United Nations Rehabilitation Association Conference, Windsor Hotel, Montreal, September 15–16, 1944.’ Woodbridge, UNRRA, 1:41. LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 2295-Q-40C and attachment, L.B. Pearson to N.A. Robertson, 16 August 1945, Journal, 3rd Session of the Council, 3:6, 62. LAC, DF, vol. 3396, L.B. Pearson to N.A. Robertson, 23, 25 August 1945. Ibid., L.B. Pearson to N.A. Robertson, 23 August 1945. LAC, TC, vol. 262, R.P. Bower to C.M. Croft, 29 August 1945. LAC, KP, vol. 343, H.F Angus, ‘Notes on the Third Session of the UNRRA Council,’ 30 August 1945. See also the speech of the U.S. delegate, W.L. Clayton, 14 August 1945, Journal, 3rd Session of the Council, 3:7.

Notes to pages 59–66

405

48 Privy Council Office, Registry files, vol. 43, H.F. Angus, 14 August 1945. 49 LAC, TC, vol. 262, R.P. Bower to C.M. Croft, 29 August 1945; DF, vol. 3396, L.B. Pearson to N.A. Robertson, 25 August 1945. See also DCER, 10 (1944–5, pt. 1), doc. 1241, 1593–6. 50 LAC, DF, vol. 3396, L.B. Pearson to N.A. Robertson, 23 August 1945. 51 Ibid., vol. 262, R.P. Bower to C.M. Croft, 29 August 1945. 52 Ibid., DF, vol. 3396, L.B. Pearson to N.A. Robertson, 25 August 1945. 53 See, for example, United Nations Archives (UNA), Minutes of the Committee on Supplies, 46(1), 12 December 1945. 54 DCER, 12 (1946), doc. 651, 1136, Victor Odlum to Secretary of State for External Affairs, dispatch 711, 25 June 1946. 55 Woodbridge, UNRRA, 1:43. 56 LAC, TC, vol. 281, no. 703, L.B. Pearson to W.L.M. King, 4 April 1946. 57 Pearson, Mike, 1:255–6. 58 LAC, TC, L.B. Pearson to W.L.M. King, 4 April 1946. 59 The quotes from the New York Times and the Cleveland Plain Dealer are from LAC, TC, vol. 307 (WA-1429), ‘Press Reaction to UNRRA Conference; Atlantic City,’ 30 March 1946. 60 LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 8737-40C, Speech by L.B. Pearson before UNRRA Committee on Policy, 20 March 1946. 61 Cf. Woodbridge, UNRRA, 1:411. 62 LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 8737-40C, L.B. Pearson, memo, 5 April 1946, ‘Discussion on Food at the Fourth Session of the UNRRA Council, Atlantic City, N.J. March 15-24-1946.’ 63 LAC, MG 26, N-8, vols. 1–2, file L.B Pearson, Diaries and Personal Papers 1934–1945, 14 March 1945. 64 LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 8737-40C, L.B. Pearson, memo, 5 April 1946, ‘Discussion on Food at the Fourth Session of the UNRRA Council, Atlantic City, N.J. March 15-24-1946.’ 65 Noel Bullock argues that this attitude still prevailed despite Ottawa being aware of studies that had forecast a food crisis during the immediate postwar era; the government’s focus on long term markets precluded building the kind of surpluses that would have allowed the Canadian government to respond more effectively to the Food Crisis. For a more detailed development of his argument, see ‘The Development of Canadian and American Wheat Policy on the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration.’ 66 UNA, UNRRA, Executive Office, Office of the Historian, Historical Monographs, ‘Statement by Andrew Cairns on the World Food Situation and Canadian Agriculture at the Opening Session of the 16th Annual Meeting

406 Notes to pages 67–77

67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86

and Convention of the Agricultural Institute of Canada on Monday 24 June 1946 at MacDonald College, Quebec.’ Woodbridge, UNRRA, 1:410. UNA, UNRRA, ‘Statement by Andrew Cairns.’ Ibid. For a full citation of Resolution 92, see Woodbridge, UNRRA, 3:155. LAC, KP, King Diary, 11 April 1946. DCER, 12 (1946), doc. 645, 1145–6, L.B. Pearson to George Ferguson, 1 April 1946. LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 2295-Q-40C, F.L. La Guardia to W.L.M. King, 3 July 1946. See also DCER, 12 (1946), doc. 652, 1137. Pearson, Mike, 1:257. LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 2295-Q-40C, L.B. Pearson to H.H. Wrong, 7 June 1946. United States Department of State, Bulletin, 11 August 1946, 268. United States Congressional Record – House (79th Congress), vol. 92, pt. 3, 27 June 1946, 7754, 7764. LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 2295-Q-40C, L.B. Pearson to H.H. Wrong, 7 June 1946. Charles E. Egan, ‘House Votes to Refuse Relief to Countries Barring Press,’ New York Times, 28 June 1946. LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 2295-Q-40C, J.A. Chapdelaine, ‘Memorandum to the Under-Secretary, 5th Session of the Council of UNRRA,’ 9 July 1946. LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 2295-Q-40C, L.B. Pearson to N.A. Robertson, 14 August 1946. For a full citation of Resolution 99, see Woodbridge, UNRRA, 3:161–4. Ibid., 2:490. LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 2295-Q-40C, L.B. Pearson to N.A Robertson, 16 August 1946. Pearson, Mike, 1:257 Ibid., 1:258.

3. The Politics of Procurement 1 House of Commons Debates, 19th Parliament, 5th session, vol. 4, 12 June 1944, 3743. 2 UNA, UNRRA, Executive Office, Office of the Historian, Historical Monographs, Karl Borders, ‘Notes on the Operation and Policies of the Bureau of Supply.’ 3 Woodbridge, UNRRA, 1:403. 4 Cited in report written by Elgin Wasson: LAC, RG 24-C-1-a, Boards, Offices

Notes to pages 78–84

5

6 7 8 9 10

11 12 13 14 15

16

17 18 19

20

21 22

407

and Commissions [Canadian Mutual Aid Board], vol. 12, UNRRA Conference, 15–16 September 1944. UNA, UNRRA, Executive Office, Office of the Historian, vol. 706, Historians’ Files, Interviews, interview with members of the Central Committee, 23 July 1947. LAC, Privy Council Office, Registry Files, vol. 44, 1943–4, ‘Relief, June 22, 1943’ (W-221-1). LAC, TC, vol. 290, O. Master to James MacKinnon, minister of trade and commerce, 12 October 1944. Ibid., O. Master to Norman Robertson, 18 October 1944 (WA-6094). Ibid., L.B. Pearson to H.F. Angus, 25 October 1944 (WA-6094). Ibid., L.B. Pearson to Roy F. Hendrickson, 1 December 1944 (WA-6094). See also UNA, UNRRA Executive Office, Office of the Director General, General Subject File, 1943–8, vol. 105, December 1944–March 1945. Ibid., L.B. Pearson to H.F. Angus, 30 November 1944 (WA-6721). Ibid., H.F. Angus to L.B. Pearson, 7 December 1944 (WA-6094). See also LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 2296-BG-40C. UNA, UNRRA Executive Office, Country Files, 1943–8, vol.10, minutes of meeting, 9 May 1944, drafted by R. Gaumnitz, 306. LAC, TC, vol. 290, N.A. Robertson to O. Master, 27 December 1944. See also LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 2295-BG-40C. UNA, UNRRA Executive Office, Office of the Historian, Background Correspondence, Bureau of Supply, vol. 613, Historical Monographs, Louis Swenson to E. Jay Howenstine, ‘Your Trip to Canada,’ 4 March 1948. For a more complete discussion of Pearson’s brokerage efforts to procure contracts and sort out trouble spots on behalf of Canada, see ArmstrongReid, ‘Canada and UNRRA,’ chapter 5. UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/4.0:6, Historians’ Files, Interviews, E. Jay Howenstine with Richard W. Green, 13, February 1948. Nevins, Herbert H. Lehman and His Era, 281. UNA, UNRRA, Executive Office, Office of the Historian, vol. 705, Historians’ Files, Interviews, E. Jay Howenstine with Canadian officials Karl C. Fraser, Eugene Henry, W.D Low, and J.D. McCarthy, 10 February 1948. UNA, UNRRA, Executive Office, Office of the Historian, vol. 705, Historians’ Files, Interviews, E. Jay Howenstine with Richard W. Green, 11 February 1948. LAC, CCC, vol. 24, file 5-3, Richard W. Green to W.P. Low, 30 October 1947. UNA, UNRRA, Executive Office, Office of the Historian, Subject File, 1943– 8, vol. 613, Historians’ Files, Andrew Cairns to David MacFarlane, 30 April 1947.

408 Notes to pages 84–91 23 Ibid., Background Correspondence, Bureau of Supply, vol. 706, memo, E. Jay Howenstine to George Woodbridge and Grace Fox, ‘[Louis] Swenson’s Comments on the Report of My Canadian Trip, March 5, 1948.’ 24 LAC, TC, vol. 290, D.E. Murphy to Dr C.F. Wilson, 13 October 1944. 25 UNA, UNRRA, Executive Office, Office of the Historian, Historical Monographs, F.C. McMillan, ‘Notes on the Bureau of Supply Personalities.’ 26 UNA, UNRRA, Administrative Service Central Registry, vol. 657, Canada Files, file 510, Lowell Rooks to Clive Pilantal (Fisheries Council of Canada), 7 August 1947. 27 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/1.1.3.55, 67, Karl Borders (chief, Bureau of Supply) to Andrew Cairns (director, Food Division), 30 July 1947. 28 LAC, Department of Fisheries Papers, file ‘Supply for Fish for the United Nations: Relief UNRRA, August 20, 1946 to June 24, 1947.’ Uncatalogued at the time of research. Murray to Riddell, 13 June 1947 (WA-1919). 29 UNA, UNRRA, Executive Office, Office of the Historian, vol. 739, Historical Monographs, 1943–8, Bureau of Supply, Food Monographs, Andrew Cairns to David MacFarlane, ‘confidential memorandum,’ ‘Your Operation Horsemeat,’ 1 May 1947. 30 Woodbridge, UNRRA, 1:431. 31 UNA, UNRRA, Executive Office, Office of the Historian, vol. 739, Historians’ Files, Cairns to MacFarlane, ‘confidential memorandum,’ ‘Your Operation Horsemeat,’ 1 May 1947. 32 Woodbridge, UNRRA, 1:431. 33 Cairns to MacFarlane, ‘Your Operation Horsemeat.’ 34 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/4.0:6, Historians’ Files, Interviews, Richard Green, 11 February 1948. 35 Drury, ‘UNRRA in Poland,’ 331–44. 36 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/4.2:18, Interim Overall Report by Jackson, September 1945. 37 Nevins, Herbert H. Lehman and His Era, 177. 38 Ibid., 278. 39 UNA, UNRRA, S-0517–29–16, UNRRA Subject Files, ‘secret,’ memorandum of meeting, 19 September 1944. 40 Poland, confidential, ‘Interim Report on UNRRA Affairs in Poland,’ 16 Nov. 1945, enclosed in C.M. Drury to Sir Humphrey Gale, dispatch no. 49, 16 November 1945. 41 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/1.0.0.0.2:4, Canada, Fiorello La Guardia to W.L.M. King, 20 December 1946, ‘Canada’s Participation in UNRRA,’ [December] 1946.

Notes to pages 92–7

409

42 LAC, RG 25, DEA, vol. 2897, file 2295-BJ-40C, Lester B. Pearson to H.H. Wrong, 26 October 1944. 43 Ibid., Hume Wrong, ‘Some Observation on Conditions in Poland,’ 31 December 1945. 44 Fiorello La Guardia to W.L.M. King, 20 December 1946, ‘Canada’s Participation in UNRRA.’ 45 UNA, UNRRA Bureau of Supply, vol. 739, file (Food 1–18) ‘Food Procurement in Canada,’ David MacFarlane, ‘Canada Did a Real Job for UNRRA,’ 3. 46 UNA, UNRRA, Executive Office, Office of the Director General, vol. 106, Subject File, 1943–6, Chronological File, 21 March–August 1945, Herbert H. Lehman to J.G. MacTaggart, 5 April 1945. 47 E.J. Howenstine to George Woodbridge and Grace Fox, ‘Subject: Swenson’s Comments on the Report on My Canadian Trip,’ 5 March 1948. 48 UNA, UNRRA, Executive Office, Office of the Historian, vol. 739, Historians’ Files, Interviews, William Gordon, UNRRA Staff, and Guy Tombs, by Jay Howenstine, 12 February 1944. 49 LAC, RG 25, DEA, vol. 289, G.R. Paterson to T.E. Major, 6 June 1945. See also LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 2295-AG-40, L.B. Pearson to H.F. Angus, 20 July 1944. 50 MacFarlane, ‘Canada Did a Real Job for UNRRA.’ 51 UNA, UNRRA, Executive Office, Office of the Historian, vol. 739, Historical Monographs, E. Jay Howenstine, ‘Policies and Procedures in the Canadian-UNRRA Supply Operations.’ 52 UNA, UNRRA, Executive Office, Office of the Historian, vol. 705, Historians’ Files, Interviews, Karl Fraser, Eugene M. Henry, W.D. Low, and J.D. McCarthy, 10 February 1948, 3–4. 53 For a discussion of Canadian policy in respect to placing restrictions on export permits until UNRRA’s needs were met, see LAC, RG 23, CCC, vol. 1629, file 792-5-5-[6]. 54 Fiorello La Guardia to W.L.M. King, 20 December 1946, ‘Canada’s Participation in UNRRA,’ 6. 55 LAC, RG 23, CCC, vol. 1630, file 792-5-5[7], ‘Memorandum for Deputy Minister Re: Fish for Relief Feeding, 1947/8.’ Stewart Bates, deputy minister, freely admitted that much of the fish pack sold to UNRRA would have been extremely difficult to dispose of in the Canadian market, since it was developed for mutual aid and wartime consumption. Stewart Bates to R.B. Bryce, 11 April 1947. 56 UNA, UNRRA PAG 4/4.0:6, Historians’ Files, Interviews, Neil Lewis, secretary of the Combined Boards, 18 February 1948.

410 Notes to pages 102–8 4. Personalities and Bureaucracies 1 Woodbridge, UNRRA, 1:155. 2 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/4.0:10 (S-05170047), Historical Monographs, Welfare Division, 3. 3 LAC, R9369, McG/ES, vol. 2, file 7, Mary Craig McGeachy to Michael Wright, 31 May 1944. 4 Woodbridge, UNRRA, 2:26. 5 Ibid., 2:27. 6 Kinnear, Woman of the World, 260. 7 Ibid., 21. 8 Ibid., 31. 9 Ibid., 53. 10 Ibid., 8. 11 Ann Wood (Ministry of Economic Warfare) to McGeachy, 1 February 1944, and L. Ingrams to McGeachy, 21 February 1944. Quoted in Kinnear, Woman of the World, 150. See also UNA, UNRRA, Historical Monographs, Welfare Division, 8. 12 Kinnear, Woman of the World, 125. 13 Ibid., 151. 14 Cf. ibid., 150. 15 Cf. ibid., 153. 16 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/4:0:6 (S-0524-006), Historians’ Files, Interviews, Grace E. Fox and Dorothy K. Clark with Conrad Van Hyning (deputy director, Welfare Division), 26 February 1947. 17 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/4:0:6 (S-0524-006), Historians’ Files, Interviews, Grace E. Fox with Marjorie Bradford. 18 UNA, UNRRA, Historical Monographs, Welfare Division, 3. 19 Kinnear, Woman of the World, 150–1. 20 McGeachy to Dowager Marchioness of Reading, 17 April 1944, quoted in UNA, UNRRA, Historical Monographs, Welfare Division, 12. 21 LAC, McG/ES, vol. 3, file 16, Mary Craig McGeachy, ‘Statement for the Press Conference,’ 6 March 1945, 2. 22 LAC, McG/ES, file 15, Address of Mary Craig McGeachy before a joint meeting of the Alliance of Business and Professional Women and the Chicago Association of Commerce, Hotel Sherman, Chicago, Illinois, Wednesday, 22 March 1944. On another occasion, McGeachy argued that the resistance movement ‘was an amazing organization for public health and social welfare, providing medicine and supplies not only for the underground movement but for the liberating armies as they advanced into Europe as well as looking after the war orphans.’ LAC, McG/ES, vol. 3, file

Notes to pages 108–12

23 24

25 26 27 28 29

30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44

45

411

16, speech by M. Craig McGeachy, ‘Statement for Press Conference March 6, 1945,’ 3. LAC, McG/ES, vol. 3, file 15, Address by M. McGeachy at Civil Affairs Staff Centre, 18 August 1944, 7. LAC, Address of Mary Craig McGeachy before a joint meeting of the Alliance of Business and Professional Women and the Chicago Association of Commerce, 3. Kinnear, Woman of the World, 123. LAC, Address by M. McGeachy at Civil Affairs Staff Centre, 18 August 1944, 4. Ibid. UNA, UNRRA, S-0520–0303, Mary Craig McGeachy to Mrs Mary Agnes Hamilton, 6 June 1944. LAC, Address of Mary Craig McGeachy before a Joint Meeting of the Alliance of Business and Professional Women and the Chicago Association of Commerce. Kinnear, Woman of the World, 161. UNA, UNNRA, Historical Monographs, Welfare Division, 13. UNA, UNRRA, Historians’ Files, Interviews, Dorothy K. Clark with Harry Greenstein, 25 October 1946. Ibid. Woodbridge, UNRRA, 1:160. Ibid. See also UNA, UNRRA, Historians’ Files, Interviews, Harry Greenstein. LAC, McG/ES, vol. 2, file 18, Mary Craig McGeachy to Sir George Reid, 6 February 1945. Woodbridge, UNRRA, 2:28. UNA, UNRRA, Historians’ Files, Interviews, Grace E. Fox and Dorothy K. Clark with Conrad Van Hyning. UMLSWA, FH, vol. 28, file 288, memo, Fred Hoehler, 20 October 1947. UNA, UNRRA, PAG, 4/1.0.0.0.0:44, Welfare Branch, Sir Frederick LeithRoss to ‘Miss McGeachy,’ 27 August 1944. UNA, UNRRA, Historical Monographs, Welfare Division, 21. UNA, UNRRA, Historians’ Files, Interviews, Dorothy K. Clark with W. Harvey Wickwar, spring 1946. UNA, UNRRA, Historians’ Files, Interviews, Dorothy K. Clark with Harry Greenstein, 25 October 1946. UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/4.0:6, Historians’ Files, Interviews, Grace E. Fox and Dorothy K. Clark with Charles Alspach and Manuel Kaufman, 25 September 1946. Ibid.

412 Notes to pages 112–21 46 UNA, UNRRA, Historians’ Files, Interviews, Dorothy K. Clark with Harry Greenstein. 47 UNA, UNRRA, Historical Monographs, Welfare Division, 14. 48 UNA, UNRRA, Historians’ Files, Interviews, Conrad van Hyning, 26 February 1947. 49 UNA, UNRRA, Historians’ Files, George Mooney to Cas [Casgrain], 17 July 1946. 50 Ibid. 51 Kinnear, Woman of the World, 151. 52 Ibid., 143. For a more detailed view of their relationship, see ibid., 126–46. 53 Cf. Woodbridge, UNRRA, 1:242. 54 Ibid., 1: 268. 55 Kinnear, Woman of the World, 161. 56 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/4.2:16 (BE#2), Historical Monographs, ‘UNRRA’s Relations with Voluntary Agencies.’ 57 Kinnear, Woman of the World, 161. 58 LAC, MG 28, vol. 43, CASW, vol. 4, file 48, Joy A. Maines to council members, 26 March 1945. 59 Ibid., Report of Secretary Council of Voluntary Agencies Assisting UNRRA, 22 March 1945, 2. 60 Woodbridge, UNRRA, 1:252. 61 LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 2295-BX-1-40, L.B. Pearson to the secretary of state for external affairs, 16 January 1946. In this letter, Pearson discusses how special cases should be handled. 62 LAC, McG/ES, Leonard Marsh to Sir Frederick Leith-Ross, 8 June 1944. 63 UNA, UNRRA, Historians’ Files, Interviews, Letter George Mooney to Cas [Casgrain], 17 July 1946. 64 Margaret Newton Kilpatrick private papers, Address by James Struthers at the 75th Anniversary Dinner, Faculty of Social Work, University of Toronto, 12 October 1989. 65 Therese Jennissen and Colleen Lundy, ‘Keeping Sight of Social Justice: 80 Years of Building CASW’: http://www.casw-acts.ca/aboutcasw/ building_e.pdf, 4. 66 UTA, B72–0022, HC, vol. 66, ‘UNRRA’s Program,’ Lecture at UNRRA Training Centre, 3 July [1944]. 67 Keynes, The Economic Consequences of the Peace, 213. 68 UTA, HC, ‘UNRRA’s Program.’ 69 Woodbridge, UNRRA, 1:257. 70 Cassidy, Canadian Welfare, 20.13 (15 July 1944): 17. 71 UTA, HC, vol. 9, file 1009, Cassidy to Mrs H.M. Cassidy, 15 August 1944.

Notes to pages 121–6

413

72 LAC, McG/ES, vol. 3, file 3, Mary Craig McGeachy to Sir George Reid, 6 February 1945. 73 Frank Munk, the director of training at the Maryland training centre, makes it quite clear in his memoirs that the European Regional Office had no intention of giving up control over training at Reading. He wrote: ‘It was indicated to me that I was welcome in England, but that Fulton [head of training for the regional office] would continue to do things in his own way.’ My Century and My Many Lives, 199. 74 Kinnear, Woman of the World, 166. For the debate with Leith-Ross over the desirability of recruiting specialists, see LAC, McG/ES, vol. 3, file 1, M. Craig McGeachy to Sir Frederick Leith-Ross, 11 April 1945. 75 UNA, UNRRA, Historians’ Files, Interviews, Mary Craig McGeachy. 76 LAC, McG/ES, Mary Craig McGeachy to Michael Wright, 31 May 1944. 77 UNA, UNRRA, S-0520-0303, Mary Craig McGeachy to Derek Hoyer Miller, 30 May 1944. 78 Ibid. 79 UNA, UNRRA, Historical Monographs, Welfare Division, 6. See also UNA, UNRRA, Historians’ Files, Interviews, Harvey Wickwar, spring 1946. 80 Cf. Kinnear, Woman of the World, 165. 81 UNA, UNRRA, Historians’ Files, Interviews, Grace E. Fox and Dorothy K. Clark with Conrad van Hyning, 26 February 1947. 82 Ibid. 83 UNA, UNRRA, Historians’ Files, Interviews, Mary Craig McGeachy. 84 UNA UNRRA, Historians’ Files, Interviews, Tomas Davidson, team director, D.P. Operations, Germany, 10 April 1947, 14. Several other UNRRAIDS expressed similar views. See William Selby Rogers, ‘The UNRRA Experience, 1945–6’; Susan Armstrong-Reid, interview with Charity Grant, Toronto, 16 July 1991; and UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/4.2:80, Historical Monographs, ‘Memo: Madeline Taylor to Dr A. Sainz de la Pena, Subject: History of Nursing Operations in UNRRA Displaced Persons Camps, U.S. Zone of Germany, from February 1945 to April 1947.’ Taylor was the third chief nurse of the American Zone. 5. UNRRA Takes Command 1 Nevins, Herbert Lehman and His Era, 239. 2 UNA, UNNRA, PAG 4/4.1:1, Balkan Mission History, Elizabeth King Simeon to Grace E. Fox, 1 January 1945. 3 EB, typed transcript of Elizabeth Brown’s Jerusalem Diary (hereafter Jerusalem Diary), vol. 1, 1.

414 Notes to pages 126–36 4 Ibid., 2. 5 UNA, UNRRA, PAG4/4.0:6, Historians’ Files, Interviews, Mr Haskell, 28 April 1945; Colonel Cochran, 30 April 1945. 6 Woodbridge, UNRRA, 2:86–7. 7 Ibid., 2:8. 8 Ibid. 9 LAC, MGB, MG 30/E497, vol. 3, file 3-1, Mabel Geldard-Brown to Maria Liebskind, 2 November 1944. 10 LAC, McG/ES, R9369, vol. 2, file 19, Frederick I. Daniels to M. Craig McGeachy, 12 January 1945. 11 LAC, MGB, vol. 3, file 3-10, Mabel Geldard-Brown to Ruth Larned, 18 July 1944. 12 Ibid., Mabel Geldard-Brown to Ruth Larned, 6 July 1944. 13 Ibid., Mabel Geldard-Brown to Ruth Larned and Elizabeth Clark, 21 July 1944. 14 Ibid., vol. 13, file 3-6, Mabel Geldard-Brown’s personal file, 1944-9. 15 The Empire Club of Canada Speeches 1945–1946, 135–51. 16 LAC, MGB, vol. 3, file 3-B, Mabel Geldard-Brown’s Athens Diary (hereafter Athens Diary), 3 December 1944–16 January 1945 and related materials, 1– 2. 17 Ibid., 3. 18 Ibid., 2. 19 Ibid., 5. 20 Ibid., 4. 21 Ibid., 7. 22 Ibid., 16. 23 Ibid., 27. 24 LAC, MGB, vol. 3, file 3-1, Mabel Geldard-Brown to Evert Barger, 21 January 1945. 25 LAC, MGB, vol. 3, file 3-3, Mabel Geldard Brown to Edgar M. Wahlberg, 26 December 1944. 26 LAC, MGB, Athens Diary, 35. 27 Ibid., 6. 28 Ibid. 29 AL, EW, vol. 10, file 914, Edgar M. Wahlberg to Laird Archer, Progress Report, 18–24 December 1944. 30 LAC, MGB, vol. 3, file 3-2B, ‘Memo: UNRRA, From: Mrs. Elly Adossides: Progress Report January 4–18 1945,’ to Mr Wahlberg. 31 LAC, MGB, Athens Diary, 48. 32 Ibid., 55.

Notes to pages 136–42

415

33 Ibid., 66. 34 UNA, UNRRA, Historians’ Files, ‘Interview with Sir Michael Creagh,’ 14 December 1945. 35 AL, EW, vol. 10, file 922. See also MGB, file 3-2B, ‘Daily Work Report of M. Geldard-Brown, Temporary Billeting Service, Athens Area, Period January 1–30, 1945.’ 36 See also AL, EW, vol.10, file 919, minutes, personnel meeting, 23 January 1945. 37 LAC, MGB, Athens Diary, 73. See also AL, EW, vol.10, file 921, Mabel Geldard Brown to Edgar M. Wahlberg, ‘Progress Report for the period 1–15 February 1945.’ 38 AL, EW, ‘Daily Work Report of M. Geldard-Brown.’ 39 LAC, MGB, vol. 3, file 3-10, Mabel Geldard-Brown to Emerson Holcombe, 30 January 1946. 40 Ibid., Mabel Geldard-Brown to Evert Barger, 5 February 1945. 41 LAC, MGB, vol. 3, file 3-2B, M. Geldard-Brown to Edgar M. Wahlberg, Welfare, Athens Area, ‘Up-country Visit to Thebes, Levadia and Lamia, January 17–21.’ 42 LAC, MGB, Athens Diary, 48. 43 Ibid., 12. 44 Ibid., 27. 45 Ibid., 71. 46 Consider, for example, her comments on Lillian Aronstein: ‘She is not measuring up to things as well as one would like ... She is Jewish, and one of the American girls who consider that they personally must have the first consideration, both as regards as their comforts and personal arrangements ... She’d complain ... because the bath-tub is discolored and the toilet seat is brown instead of white, and she never did like a coloured toilet seat.’ Ibid., 14. 47 Ibid., 55. 48 LAC, MGB, vol. 3, file 3-10, Mabel Geldard-Brown to Evert Barger, 8 January 1945. 49 Ibid. 50 UNA, UNRRA, Historians’ Files, Interviews, Mr Daniels, 27 April 1945, 6. 51 Ibid., Grace E. Fox with C.M. Elkinton, 10 April 1945. 52 Ibid., Mr Daniels, 27 April 1945, 6. 53 LAC, McG/ES, vol. 2, file 19, Frederick Daniels to M. Craig McGeachy, 12 January 1945. 54 AL, EW, vol. 10, file 919, ‘Minutes: Weekly Meeting Full Staff, Tuesday February 6, 1945.’

416 Notes to pages 142–51 55 LAC, MGB, vol. 3, file 3-7, M. Geldard-Brown to Evert Barger, ‘Memo: Subject Displaced Persons in Region D, October,’ 12 October 1945. 56 LAC, MGB, vol. 3, file 3-9, ‘Report of Visit to Italy,’ 23 January-12 February 1946. Draft of the same report is contained in file 3-3. 57 LAC, MGB, vol. 3, file 3-6, Mabel Geldard Brown’s personnel file, Charles S. Stokes, ‘Confidential Report to Washington,’ 31 August 1946. 58 LAC, MGB, vol. 3, file 3-10, Mabel Geldard-Brown to Mademoiselle Suzanne Ferrière, IMS, 20 May 1946. 59 LAC, MGB, vol. 3, file 3-7, Mabel Geldard-Brown’s personnel file. 60 Cf. UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/4.2:30, Historical Monographs, ‘Middle East History: The Repatriation Division.’ 61 Ibid., 296. 62 UNA, UNRRA, Historical Monographs, ‘Camps, Middle East (ME#1),’ 295. 63 Ibid., 301. 64 ‘Extendicare Resident Wins Award for Lifetime Service.’ Peterborough Examiner, 20 October 1986. 65 Ibid. 66 Stacey, Arms, Men, and Government, 409. 67 EB, Elizabeth Brown, original manuscript, ‘With UNRRA in Jerusalem,’ 4. 68 Ibid., 14. 69 LAC, MGB, Athens Diary, 12. 70 EB, ‘With UNRRA in Jerusalem,’ 13. 71 Ibid., 53. 72 Ibid., 34. 73 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/3.0.2.1:2, ‘Chief of the Middle East Office to: Deputy Chief ERO Bureau of Services, Memo: Responsibilities of the Jerusalem Office, November 30, 1945.’ 74 UNA, UNRRA, Historical Monographs, ‘Middle East History: The Repatriation Division,’ 369. 75 Ibid., 371. 76 EB, ‘With UNRRA in Jerusalem,’ 114. 77 Ibid., 3. 78 Ibid., 27. 79 Ibid., 53–4. 80 Ibid., 54. 81 AO, JB, ‘Report on the Registration of the Greek Refugees Living in Palestine,’ n.d., 5. 82 EB, ‘With UNRRA in Jerusalem,’ 58. 83 Ibid., 75.

Notes to pages 151–9

417

84 JB, Brown, ‘Report on the Registration of the Greek refugees Living in Palestine,’ 7. 85 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/3.0.2.1:2, Elizabeth Brown, ‘Report: The Polish Group in Palestine,’ 27 February 1945, 6. 86 UNA, UNRRA, Historical Monographs, ‘Middle East History: The Repatriation Division,’ 381. 87 Brown, ‘Report: The Polish Group in Palestine,’ 6. 88 EB, ‘With UNRRA in Jerusalem,’ 44. 89 UNA, UNRRA, Historical Monographs, ‘Middle East History: The Repatriation Division,’ 382. 90 Brown, ‘Report: The Polish Group in Palestine,’ 7. 91 EB, Jerusalem Diary, 1:44–5. 92 Ibid. 1:45. 93 Ibid., 1:21. 94 Ibid., 1:45. 95 Ibid., 1:44. 96 Ibid., 1:46. The date entered is November 1945; ‘With UNRRA in Jerusalem’ has this incident a year after. See page 155. 97 Ibid., 1:56. 98 Ibid., 2:35. 99 EB, ‘With UNRRA in Jerusalem’, 134. 100 Ibid., 135. See also EB, Jerusalem Diary, 2:58. 101 EB, Elizabeth Brown to Hazel and Egerton Brown, 7 February 1947. 102 Ibid., Jerusalem Diary, 2:62. 103 Ibid., Elizabeth Brown to Egerton and Hazel Brown, 10 September 1946. 104 Ibid., Jerusalem Diary, 2, 62. 105 Ibid., Elizabeth Brown to Hazel, Egerton, and Quentin Brown, 27 July 1946. 106 Ibid., Elizabeth Brown to Tom Brown, 21 August 1946. 107 Elizabeth to Quentin Brown, cited in Brown, The Army’s Mister Brown, 154. 108 EB, Jerusalem Diary, 2:66. 109 Elizabeth Brown to Quentin Brown, cited in Brown, The Army’s Mister Brown, 160. 110 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/3.0.2.1:2, ‘Memo: H. Van Hyde, Chief of the Middle East Office to Miss Gifford,’ 19 July 1945. 111 EB, Elizabeth Brown to Egerton, 18 February 1947. 112 Ibid., ‘With UNRRA in Jerusalem,’ 96. 113 Ibid., 97. 114 Ibid., 101. 115 Ibid., 101.

418 Notes to pages 159–72 116 Woodbridge, UNRRA, 2:129. 117 Cf. ibid., 2:128–30. 6. Soldiers of Peace or Agents of Repatriation 1 Wodlinger, ‘An UNRRA Field Supervisor Looks Back,’ 14, 18. 2 QUA, JAE, locator 2330, vol. 4, file 4, J.A. Edmison, Field Reports, 12 May 1945. 3 Ibid., George Mooney, ERO, to Colonel Joseph Harris, 4 November 1944. 4 UNA, UNRRA, S-0523–0596, Marjorie Bradford to Sir George [Reid], n.d. 5 QUA, JAE, vol. 4, file 4, comment by John D. Falkner at Alex Edmison’s farewell dinner party at the castle in Kromburg Germany. 6 Ibid., comment by Jay Krane. 7 Ibid., J. Alex Edmison to Miss Virginia Rishel, 10 May 1946. 8 Ibid., J. Alex Edmison, ‘UNRRA’s Trials and Triumphs: An Address before the Canadian Club in Montreal,’ 18 February 1946. 9 Ibid., J. Alex Edmison to Miss Virginia Rishe, 10 May 1946. 10 Susan Armstrong-Reid, interview with Charity Grant, Toronto, 16 July 1991. 11 See www.library.gatech.edu/projects/holocaust/nesbitt.htm, interview with Mathew Nesbitt. 12 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/4.2, Nils O. Melin, ‘Experiences in UNRRA, D.P. Operation, Germany,’ n.d. [1945?]. 13 WSR, William Selby Rogers, unpublished mss., ‘The UNRRA Experience, 1945–1946,’ 7. 14 Ibid., 9–10. 15 Ibid., 11. 16 Ibid., 12. 17 Ibid. 18 Ibid., 14. 19 Ibid., 17. 20 Ibid., 20. 21 Ibid., 23. 22 Ibid.,24. 23 QUA, JAE, vol. 4, file 4, J.A. Edmison / Dayton H. Frost Field Reports, 25 April 1945. 24 Interview with William S. Rogers, Toronto, 17 February 1991. 25 Ibid. See also UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/3.0.11.0.1.4:2, file DP University Munich, Lt.-Gen. F.E. Morgan to Lt.-Gen. Sir Humphrey Gale, ‘The UNRRA University at Munich, March 8, 1946,’ 26 February 1946; Pettiss

Notes to pages 172–80

26

27 28 29 30 31 32 33

34

35 36 37 38 39 40

419

with Taylor, After the Shooting Stopped, 176. The last work supports Rogers’s assertion that the UNRRA University was disbanded because it was viewed as possible impediment to repatriation. For a description of William Rogers’s informal arrangements with the UNRRA team at the Deutsches Museum, See Morgan, ‘The UNRRA University at Munich, March 8, 1946.’ Interview with Charity Grant. Pettiss with Taylor, After the Shooting Stopped, 13. Interview with Charity Grant. Ibid. For a more general overview of relationships with the military, see also Wodlinger, ‘An UNRRA Field Supervisor Looks Back,’ 24. Charity Grant’s personal diary, n.d. In the following week, the diary entries consist only of ditto marks or the comment ‘more of the same.’ Interview with Charity Grant. UNA, UNRRA, S-0435-02-30, Germany Mission District Operational and Administrative Files, R.C. Raymond, director, District 2, to C.J. Taylor, chief of field operations, UNRRA headquarters, U.S. Zone, Pasing, Munich, 14 May 1946. Canadian Jewish Congress Charities Committee National Archives (CJCCCNA), Ethel Ostry Collection, PO119, Ethel Genkind (Ostry) to Mr Rome, 21 December 1948, encl. biographical notes. HD, Hazel Dobson to family, 19 September 1945. EO, Ethel Ostry, unpublished mss. (edited by Elizabeth O. Fischer), ‘After the Holocaust: My Work with UNRRA,’ 137. Ibid., 50–1. HD, Hazel Dobson to family, 30 September 1945. Ibid., 61. Exodus 1947 was a ship carrying Jewish emigrants, who had no legal immigration certificates, that left France on 11 July 1947 with the intent of taking its passengers to Palestine, then controlled by the British. Following wide media coverage, the British Royal Navy seized the ship and deported all its passengers back to France. When the refugees refused to disembark and forced the issue by declaring a hunger strike, the British were forced to return them to Hamburg in the British-occupied zone of Germany. Amid worldwide public outrage, the British authorities forcibly compelled the passengers to disembark and then transferred them to displaced persons camps in Germany. Displaced persons in camps all over Europe protested vociferously and staged hunger strikes when they heard the news. Large protests erupted on both sides of the Atlantic. The ensuing public embarrassment for Britain played a significant role in the diplomatic swing of

420 Notes to pages 180–5

41

42 43

44 45

46 47 48

49 50 51 52

53 54 55

56 57 58

sympathy towards the Jews and the eventual recognition of a Jewish state in 1948. Ostry had been at Stuttgart when a raid on the Polish-Jewish community resulted in the death of one displaced person and the wounding of several others. The ‘Stuggart Raid’ attracted unwanted publicity in Europe and abroad. Ostry, ‘After the Holocaust,’ 137. See UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/3.0.11.3.2:6, ‘Incident between the Jews and Military on the Night of April 30, 1946 at Cham.’ Kenneth Barr contended that the UNRRA director’s weakness in dealing with the incident allowed the matter to escalate, but, even so, ‘the Jewish Community as a whole has little reason to lack faith in the local UNRRA administration because they have served the Community exceedingly well in spite of a very indifferent spirit of co-operation on the part of the Jewish Committee in Cham.’ Ostry, ‘After the Holocaust,’ chapter 10. UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/3.0.11.0.1:4, Dorothy M. Johnson, field supervisor, to E.H. Nordby, district director, commenting on her visit to UNRRA Team 302 at Wildflecken and Team 517 at Kastel. Ostry, ‘After the Holocaust,’ 120. Ibid., 142. UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/2.0.0.0:44, Alex. E. Squadrill, deputy zone director, ‘Current Status of Displaced Persons in the US Zone in Germany,’ 25 May 1946. Ostry, ‘After the Holocaust,’ 97. Ibid., 89–90. Ibid., 160. CJCCCNA, Canadian Jewish Congress Records, Central Files series, Series CA, vol. 00035, file 00340, Ethel Ostry, UNRRA Hospital, Ethel Ostry to Samuel Bronfman, 21 April 1947; Saul Hayes to Ethel Ostry, 27 May 1947. UNA, UNRRA, Squadrill, ‘Current Status of Displaced Persons in the US Zone in Germany,’ 11. Woodbridge, UNRRA, 3:401. UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/3.0.11.3.2:6, District 3, file 1, ‘Meeting of Field Supervisors and Senior Division Heads held in Regensburg, August 31, 1946.’ Ibid., ‘Meeting of Directors [June 1946].’ UNA, UNRRA, ‘Current Status of Displaced Persons in the US Zone in Germany.’ Woodbridge, UNRRA, 2:515.

Notes to pages 185–93

421

59 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/3.0.11.3.2:6, District 3, file 1, ‘Meeting of the Directors and Welfare Officers held on Saturday, June 1, 1946.’ 60 Ibid., K.M. Barr to A.C. Dunn, 20 June 1946. 61 Woodbridge, UNRRA, 2:515. 62 CH, Carl Hiltz, unpublished memoir, ‘The Salvation Army and World War II’ [1947?]. 63 He received a favourable review from Major-General F.W. Milburn, who was ‘very impressed with the excellent running condition of the Ganghofer Displaced Persons Camp’ in the Regensburg area. UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/ 3.0.11.3.2:6, District 3, Regensburg, Milburn to commanding officer, Ganghofer Displaced Persons Camp, 15 November 1946. 64 Hiltz, ‘The Salvation Army,’ 30. 65 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/3.0.11.1.0:4, Inspection Reports, British Zone, Dorothy M. Johnson, field inspector, central headquarters, ‘Summary Report on District 3, Regensburg,’ to Carl H. Martini, Chief Department of Field Operations, CHQ, 29 January 1947. 66 Ibid., 4. 67 UNA, UNRRA, PAG4/3.0.11.3.2:7, District 3, Area Team 1046, Regensburg, inspection report to U.S. Zone director, 21 April 1947, 3. 68 Ibid., 12. 69 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/ 3.0.11.3.2:9, A.C. Dunn to J.H. Whiting, Team 137, Lauf, November 1945–September 1946, 28 February 1946. 70 Ibid., ‘Directors’ Office: Field Report -Team 137, Lauf, Dates of Visits 5–6–9– 10,’ to J.H. Whiting, director, UNRRA headquarters, U.S. Zone, 6 February 1946. 71 Ibid., district supply officer to A.C. Dunn, 22 May 1946, 1. 72 Ibid., UNRRA Monthly Team Report, Team 137, J.R. Cheetham, 31 March 1946. 73 Ibid., District 3, Team 137, November 1945–September 1946, J.R. Cheetham to Raymond Gordon, field supervisor, 30 March 1946, 2. 74 Ibid., Douglas Deane, field supervisor, to A.C. Dunn, 24 May 1946, 2. 75 Ibid., Ralph B. Price, field supervisor, to A.C. Dunn, 25 July 1946, 2, 4. 76 Ibid., Ralph B. Pierce, field supervisor, to A.C. Dunn, 17 July 1946, 1. 77 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/3.0, director of Team 137 to Douglas Deane, field supervisor, 11 June 1946, 1. 78 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/3.0.11.3.2:9, A.C. Dunn to C.J. Taylor, 25 September 1946. 79 Senate of Canada, Proceedings of the Standing Committee on Immigration and Labour, 1947, appendix A, T.J. Keenan to James Murdoch, 22 April 1947, 108.

422 Notes to pages 194–201 80 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/4.0:6, Historians’ Files, Interviews, Thomas Davidson, team director, D.P. Operations, Germany, 10 April 1947, 14. 81 Woodbridge, UNRRA, 2:517. 82 Ibid., 3:404–5. 7. Torch of Sadness 1 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/4.2:81, Historical Monographs, History of Child Welfare (DP US #22), 29. 2 Kinnear, Woman of the World, 165. 3 As a consultant on international planning within the U.S. Children’s Bureau, then in the Department of Labor, Dr Branscombe had played a major role in the preliminary planning for post-war relief for children. When the Children’s Bureau initiative led to planning for international relief in the Department of State, Branscombe was loaned to the department as an assistant to the director. This activity, in turn, resulted in the creation in 1943 of UNRRA. At the first meeting to organize the agency, Branscombe served as an assistant to the U.S. delegation. She then joined UNRRA headquarters in Washington to participate in organizing and staffing the Social Welfare Section. Early in 1944, as the European office of UNRRA was being organized in London, she was assigned to assist in establishing the Social Service Division and became temporary head of the Child Welfare Section. 4 UNA, UNRRA, S-0523–0589, UNRRA Registry Files, ‘Miss Branscombe and Miss Bradford’s Visit to Paris to Discuss Women’s and Girl’s Problems. Marjorie Bradford to Sir George Reid, First Report on Visit to Paris,’ 12 April 1945, 1. 5 Ibid., 3. 6 Ibid., 8. 7 Ibid., 8 May 1945, 2. 8 Ibid., appendix, ‘Reception Centre for Political Deportees in Paris,’ 4 May 1945, 1. 9 Ibid., 2. 10 Kinnear, Woman of the World, 165. 11 Bradford to Reid, ‘First Report on Visit to Paris,’ 4. 12 Ibid., 6. 13 Bradford, ‘Reception Centre for Political Deportees in Paris.’ 14 Bradford to Reid, ‘First Report on Visit to Paris,’ 4. 15 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/4.0:10, Historical Monographs, ‘Welfare Division,’ 25.

Notes to pages 201–12

423

16 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/1.0.0.0.0:29, Jackson Papers, Confidential Letters, Jackson to the director general, Jackson to Lehman, 9 March 1945, 3; and UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/4.0, Historians’ Files, Interviews, Grace E. Fox and Dorothy Clark with Mr Alspach and Mr Kaufmann, 3 October 1946. 17 UNA, UNRRA, Historians’ Files, Interviews, Grace E. Fox and Dorothy Clark with Mr Alspach and Mr Kaufmann, 3 October 1946. 18 UNA, UNRRA, Historical Monographs, ‘History of Child Welfare,’ 81. 19 Ibid., 35. 20 Ostry Genkind, ‘Children from Europe,’ 32; UNA, UNRRA, Historical Monographs, ‘History of Child Welfare,’ 7. 21 Ibid., 26. 22 Henshaw, ‘Serving with UNRRA in Bavaria,’ 4–7. 23 Ibid., 27. 24 UNA, UNRRA, Historical Monographs, ‘History of Child Welfare,’ 26. 25 Ibid., ‘Background Memo: From M. Jean Henshaw, Director Team 182 to Mrs. Martha Steinmetz, District Child Welfare Officer,’ 29 July 1946, 2. 26 UNA, UNRRA, S-0437–12–18, ‘German Mission Department of Field Operations in the U.S. Zone, Miss P. Bakeman, Child Welfare Officer, to Mr. S. B. Zisman, Director, Monthly Report on Kloster Indersdorf, UNRRA Team 183,’ 22 March 1946. 27 Henshaw, ‘UNRRA in the Role of Foster Parent,’ 6. 28 UNA, UNRRA, Historical Monographs, ‘History of Child Welfare,’ ‘Background Memo: M. Jean Henshaw to Miss Pauline Bakeman, UNRRA Child Welfare Supervisor, Subject: Yugoslav Children Admitted to D.P. Centre,’ 28 March 1946, 2. 29 UNA, UNRRA, Historical Monographs, ‘History of Child Welfare,’ 49–50. 30 UNA, UNRRA, Historical Monographs, ‘Memo: From Jean Henshaw to Mrs. Martha Steinmetz, District 5 Child Search and Repatriation Officer, Munich. Re: Russian Transport,’ 4 December 1946, 5; ibid., Historical Monographs, ‘History of Child Welfare,’ 64. 31 UNA, UNRRA, Historical Monographs, ‘History of Child Welfare,’ ‘Memo: From Jean Henshaw to Mrs. Martha Steinmetz,’ 4. 32 See also UNA, UNRRA, Historical Monographs, ‘History of Child Welfare,’ 64. 33 Ibid., 104. See also Henshaw, ‘UNRRA in the Role of Foster Parent,’ 6. 34 UNA, UNRRA, Historical Monographs, ‘History of Child Welfare,’ 92. 35 Ibid., 95. 36 http://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/jsource/Holocaust/children.html: Gitta Sereny, ‘Stolen Children.’

424 Notes to pages 212–27 37 UNA, UNRRA, Historical Monographs, ‘History of Child Welfare, ‘Background Memo: M. Jean Henshaw, Czech Transport,’ 1 April 1947. 38 Ibid., 102. 39 Ibid., 63. 40 Susan-Armstrong Reid, interview with Margaret Newton Kirkpatrick, Toronto, 27 February 1991. 41 Ibid. 42 Ibid. 43 See Pettiss with Taylor, After the Shooting Stopped. 44 Susan Armstrong-Reid, interview with Margaret Newton Kirkpatrick. 45 Pettiss with Taylor, After the Shooting Stopped, 201. 46 Susan Armstrong-Reid, interview with Margaret Newton Kirkpatrick. 47 Ibid. 48 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/2.0.6.0–14, ‘Health Program British Zone, Germany, Sir Raphael Cilento, UNRRA Director, British Zone Germany to Dr. Neville Goodman,’ 25 September 1945. 49 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/3.0.11.2.0.2:74, ‘Dr. Struthers Reports, UNNRA Field Survey of D.P. Children–British Zone, Final Summary and Discussion,’ 10 October 1945. 50 UNA, UNRRA, S-0523–06, ‘Health Personnel Tour of Missions, Dr. R.R. Struthers, Consultant in Maternal and Child Health Subject Tour of UNRRA European Missions, July-September 1946,’ October 1946, 14. 51 Ibid., 21. 52 Ibid., 30. 53 Ibid., 29. 54 Ibid. 30. 55 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/2.0.6, ‘Health Program British Zone Germany, Dr. R.R. Struthers, Medical Specialist to Sir Raphael Cilento, Zone Director,’ 7 November 1945. 56 ‘Dr. Struthers Reports, UNRRA Field Survey of D.P. Children, British Zone, Final Summary and Discussion,’ 3. 8. Launching UNRRA’s Nursing Brigade 1 Editorial, “God Bless Us, Every One,” Canadian Nurse, 41.1 (1945): 19. 2 Editorial, Canadian Nurse, 41.3 (1945): 215. 3 While access to UNRRA personnel records is restricted, the surviving outplacement records of some Canadian nurses, who remained with UNRRA until it closed its doors, provide an indication of why UNRRA salary levels were so attractive. The civilian salary range within this limited sample (see

Notes to pages 228–34

4 5 6

7 8 9 10 11 12 13

14 15

16 17 18 19 20 21 22

425

appendix A) appears consistent with the national averages quoted in a 1944–5 Canadian Military Recruiting Brochure and with a 1941 survey of public-health nurses in Canada reported in the Canadian Nurse. Geraldine Langton and Lyle Creelman found that the average salary paid to publichealth nurses was $950 per annum and the highest $1,800: ‘Report of Studies Made by the Provincial Public Health Sections and in a 1941 Survey of Public Health Nurses in Canada,’ Canadian Nurse, 39.10 (1943): 678. ‘Interesting People: Lillian J. Johnston,’ Canadian Nurse, 41.9 (1945): 723–4. Canadian Nurse, 40.7 (1944): 493–4. UNA, UNRRA, S-0520–413–3, UNRRA Subject Files, Hughes Bryan, acting director of health, to Dr Neville M Goodman, director of health, 15 December 1945. Mortimer and McGann, eds., New Directions in the History of Nursing, 8. For a more detailed discussion of the greater degree of professional autonomy held by public-health nurses, see McPherson, Bedside Matters, 59. Ibid., 12. Brush and Lynaugh, Nurses of All Nations. LAC, CNA Fonds, MG28–1248, MEC A1.2/4, Minutes of the CNA Executive Meeting, 31 May-2 June 1945. LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 2295, BZ-PO, G.M. Hall, general secretary, to Brooke Claxton, 12 July 1945. ‘Following consultation with Mr. Pearson, Canadian Minister at Washington, we are advised that should further recruitment of Canadian Nurses be requested by UNRRA, the salary question will be taken up with UNRRA authorities.’ Cited in Canadian Nurse, 41.9 (1945): 713. LAC, RG 25, DEA, Hall to Claxton, 12 July 1945. The College of Registered Nurses of British Columbia (CRNBC), Oral History, Interview, Audrey Stegen with Mary Henderson, Vancouver, 27 April 1988. Cf. Zilm and Warbinek, Legacy, 91. CRNBC, Nurses Biographical Files, nomination, CRNBC Memorial Book, Heather Kilpatrick 1908–2000. Henderson, ‘Letters from Near and Far: At the El Shatt UNRRA Camp,’ 336. Cf. Woodbridge, UNRRA, 2:89–90. Henderson, ‘Letters from Near and Far,’ 338. Ibid. See also Interview, Audrey Stegen with Mary Henderson, 27 April 1988. CRNBC, Biographical Files, Heather Kilpatrick, copy of ‘UBC Women Serve with Distinction Abroad, Graduate Chronicle by Mary Fallis.’

426 Notes to pages 234–42 23 Cf. UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/2.0.6:3, Miscellaneous Nursing Reports to ERO from Camps and Teams, ‘Summary of Activities of Chief Nurse, M.E.O. from April until September 1945.’ 24 Faust, ‘Nurse’s Aides, Trained at a Yugoslav Refugee Camp,’ 552. 25 Interview, Audrey Stegen with Mary Henderson, 27 April 1988. 26 Henderson, ‘Letters from Near and Far,’ 338. 27 John Corsellis, ‘Yugoslav Refugees in Camps in Egypt and Austria 1944–7’ (1994). 28 UNA, UNRRA, S-0523–0563, Helena Reimer, ‘Nursing in Refugee Camp Tolumbat, August 1944–September 1945,’ 1. 29 Ibid., 4. 30 See also Arnstein, ‘Nursing in the UNRRA Middle East Refugee Camps,’ 381. 31 Ibid., 6. 32 Ibid., 7. 33 Ibid., 379. 34 UNA, UNRRA, S-0520–0399, ‘Miss Conley to Dr. Bryan, Deputy Director of Health, Subject: Dissatisfied nurses,’ October 1945. 35 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/2.0.6.0:3, ‘Draft of article for Nursing Times: The Rehabilitation of Europe, Report of Miss Udell’s Visit to Europe.’ 36 Cf. UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/2.0.6.0:4 Nursing Reports to ERO from Greece. 37 Hunter, ‘UNRRA Girls Live the Hard Way,’ 732. 38 UNA, UNRRA, Nursing Reports to ERO from Greece, ‘Memo: Mary Henderson, Nursing Consultant to Dr. Boyd, Regional Medical Officer, Monthly Report of Nursing Activities,’ 2 January 1946. 39 Hunter, ‘UNRRA Girls Live the Hard Way,’ 734. 40 Interview, Audrey Stegen with Mary Henderson, 27 April 1988. 41 The personal portrait of Heather Kilpatrick offered here is drawn from a series of personal interviews and telephone conversations with her niece Jan Scott, who resides in Vancouver and is also a nursing educator. 42 Cf. Henderson, ‘Nursing with UNRRA in Greece,’ 467. 43 Hunter, ‘UNRRA Girls Live the Hard Way,’ 734. 44 LAC, MGB, MG 30/E49, File 3-2b, Mabel Geldard-Brown’s Athens Diary, 64. 45 Cf. Henderson, ‘Nursing with UNRRA in Greece,’ 467. 46 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/4.2:36, ‘Regions ABJ, Health Division, Historical Report, November 30, 1946.’ 47 Interview, Audrey Stegen with Mary Henderson, 27 April 1988. 48 Another Canadian, Jean Watt, encountered similar roadblocks when she transferred from Germany in July 1946 into the Greece mission to act as

Notes to pages 242–5

49 50 51

52

53

54 55 56 57

58 59 60 61 62 63 64

427

matron and open a new school of nursing at the Central Hospital in Region E-G. Endless red tape and heated arguments over the proper role and responsibilities of the nursing staff led her, in November 1946, to urge the postponement of the new nursing school’s opening. As late as October, she still had not convinced Athens to send out an architect to oversee the necessary renovations for the school. Her draft of the constitution for the nursing school was mired in repeated requests for revisions that indicated a profound difference of opinion on the role and requirements of the school. See UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/2.0.6.0:4, Nursing Reports to ERO from Greece, Nursing Section Monthly Report, no.18, October 1946; no.19, November 1946; ‘Report on Visit to Region EG 30,’ 10 October 1946. Henderson, ‘Nursing with UNRRA in Greece,’ 468. UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/2.0.6.0:4, Nursing Reports to ERO from Greece, Jeannette Snyder Hiller, ‘Special Historical Report.’ UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/2.0.6.0:3, Olive Baggallay, ‘Special Progress Report, Nursing Section: November 1944–June 1945, to: Dr Kopanaria, Director General Ministry of Hygiene, Athens.’ UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/2.0.6.0:4, Nursing Section Monthly Report, no. 15, July 1946; no. 19, November 1946; and ‘Report on Visit to Region EG,’ 10 October 1946. UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/2.0.6.0:3, Nursing Reports to ERO from Greece, Mary Henderson to Dr Boyd, regional medical officer, ‘Monthly Report of Nursing Activities,’ 2 January 1946. Ibid., Baggallay, ‘Special Progress Report.’ Henderson, ‘Nursing with UNRRA in Greece,’ 467. UNA, UNRRA, Nursing Reports to ERO from Greece, ‘Special Historical Report, Chief Nursing Consultant,’ n.d. UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/2.0.6.0:3, ‘Miss Udell, Chief Nurse, to: Dr. Goodman Director, Health Division, Memo: Report on Tour to Italy, Middle East and Greece, 1945 21st October to 27th December 1945, with Miss Lillian Johnston, Chief Nurse, Washington.’ Baggallay, ‘UNRRA Nurses in Athens Hospitals,’ 635. EB, original manuscript, ‘With UNRRA in Jerusalem,’ 122–3. ‘Who Will Help?’ Canadian Nurse, 42.12 (1947): 1017. UNA, UNRRA, Nursing Reports to ERO From Greece, no. 19, 1946. UNA, UNRRA, S-0520-0399, UNRRA Subject Files, Dr A Sawyer and Dr A. Hughes Bryan to Roy F. Hendrickson, 7 September 1945. Ibid. See also ibid., telegram, no. 3217, Crabtree to London, 9 August 1945. For a description of the hardships faced by the Canadian nurses, see UNA, UNRRA, Florence Udell to Dr Goodman, ‘Report on Trip to Italy, Middle

428 Notes to pages 246–51

65

66 67 68

East and Greece,’ 9. Although singled out as a difficult colleague, Josephine de Brincat was praised for her industriousness and dedication by Dr E.C. Benn: see UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/3.0.14.3.3:1, Benn to Colonel B. Hamilton, 9 April 1946. Frances McQuarrie’s achievements were recognized, but she could not be persuaded to stay despite the repeated request for her services from Lyle Creelman. See the following report from Lieutenant Jean Rehner to Colonel L.A. Enge: UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/3.0.14.3.3:4, chief medical officer, 25 July 1945. See also ibid., ‘Statistics and Narrative Reports Medical, Progress Report for June 1945, Prepared by Dr. Erwin Gross and Frances Mc Quarrie’; and UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/3.14.3.3:4, ‘Monthly Narrative Report July 1945,’ J.P. Bond to Colonel L.A. Enge, 6 July 1945 (UNRRA Santa Maria di Bagni S Croce Hospital): ‘Report of the Activities of the Activities of the Nursing Staff, Norena Mackenzie, Chief Nurse,’ 5 July 1945. Despite being shuffled from Ethiopia to take charge of a particularly challenging hospital in Italy, Mackenzie proved resilient and quickly initiated a course for nurses’ aides. UNA, UNRRA, S-0523-0561, Health Personnel Tour of Missions, Dr R.R Struthers to Dr N.M. Goodman, ‘Tour of UNRRA European Missions, July– September 1946, 7. Ibid., 8. UNA, UNRRA, S-0523–0563–1, ERO Registry File, W.A. Sawyer, director of health, to George S. Mooney, 5 June 1945. UNA, UNRRA, S-0520-0399, Subject Files, A. Hughes Bryan, deputy director of health, to Marion W. Sheahan, director of public-health nursing, New York State Department of Health, 12 July 1946.

9. Nursing with the Enemy 1 UNA, UNRRA, S-0520-413, UNRRA Subject Files, ERO Health Division, ‘Flow Chart ERO Health-DP Division.’ 2 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/4.2:80, Historical Monographs, ‘Madeline Taylor, Chief Nurse, UNRRA US Zone, to: Dr A. Sainz de la Pena, Chief Health Division, US Zone, History of Nursing Operations in UNRRA Displaced Persons Camps, US Zone of Germany February 1945 to April 1947,’ 6. 3 LAC, FLP, MG 31, K9, vol. 20, Libbie Rutherford to director of Health Division, ‘Report on Trip to Iserlohn, British Zone,’ 25 September 1945. 4 ‘Nursing Profiles,’ Canadian Nurse, 44.10 (1948): 832–3. See also ‘Nursing Profiles,’ ibid., 44.4 (1948): 294–5. 5 Cf. ‘Interesting People,’ Canadian Nurse, 43.3 (1947): 212–13. See also LAC, CNA, MG 28, 1248, vol. 160, file 47, ‘A.C. Neil, Lt.-Col. Matron-in-Chief to

Notes to pages 252–60

6 7 8 9 10 11 12

13 14 15

16 17

18

19

20 21

22 23

429

Director of Medical Services, Canadian Military Headquarters, memo, Lieut. Nursing Sister, M.S. Taylor.’ MacLeod, Park, and Ryerson, Bethune, 76. Ibid., 81–2. Ibid., 103. Several people associated with the Bethune group assisted Leonard Marsh in the preparation of his study Health and Unemployment. LC, ‘Diary of Service with UNRRA,’ 18. Ibid., 7–8. Lyle Creelman, Letters to the Editor, ‘Dutch Children in England,’ Canadian Nurse, 41.6 (1945), 477. Lyle Creelman, Letters to the Editor, ‘With UNRRA in Germany,’ Canadian Nurse, 43.7 (1947), 532–3. Creelman wrote a series of articles for the Canadian Nurse over several years using the same title. UNA, UNRRA, S-0523–563, Lyle Creelman to S.J. Haines, deputy chief nurse, ERO, 3 December 1945. LC, Creelman, ‘Diary of Service with UNRRA,’ 3. UNA, UNRRA, Historical Monographs, E.M. Thorne, ‘Report for History Project, British Zone Headquarters, Division of Health, Nursing, History of Nursing Division, D.P., BR #.19.’ Ibid., Taylor, ‘History of Nursing Operations in UNRRA Displaced Persons Camps,’ 2; ‘Report – Health DP – US,’ 53. UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/2 0.6.0:3, ‘Reports to E.R.O. from Camps and Teams, Weekly Medical Reports U.N.R.R.A. Team 186, Covering the Period from 1st-7th July inclusive.’ Ibid., ‘Miscellaneous Nursing Reports to E.R.O. Weekly Medical Reports from Camps and Teams, UNRRA Team 186, Covering the Period from July 1–7, 1945.’ Ibid., ‘Miscellaneous Nursing Reports to E.R.O. Weekly Medical Reports from Camps and Teams, UNRRA Team 186, Covering the Period from July 8–14, 1945.’ LAC, FLP, MG 31, K9, vol. 20, UNRRA file, Victoria Pete to Libbie Rutherford, August 1945. For example, the Canadian Mary Wade, who ably ran the nursing services in a large assembly centre at Schleswig, near the Danish border, coped despite the fact there was no UNRRA team doctor. Creelman, ‘With UNRRA in Germany,’ Canadian Nurse, 42.3 (1946): 241. LAC, FLP, MG 31, K9, vol. 20, UNRRA file, C. Goldberg to Libbie Rutherford, 26 July 1945. Ibid., ‘Report of the Russian Displaced Persons Camp 178, Bockhorn, Germany.’

430 Notes to pages 260–5 24 25 26 27

28 29 30 31

32

33 34

35 36 37

38 39

40 41 42

Ibid., Janet Vanderwell to Libbie Rutherford, 12 July 1945. Ibid., Jean Williams to Libbie Rutherford, 16 August 1945. Ibid. UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/4.2:81, ‘Histories of Individual Camps, K. Hulme, Deputy Director UNRRA Team 1050 UNRRA U.S. Zone Germany, History Report No. 30, Polish Camp: Wildflecken, District 3. June 1947, DP US #20,’ 18. Ibid. Jean Williams to Libbie Rutherford, 16 August 1945. UNA, UNRRA, ‘Histories of Individual Camps ... Polish Camp: Wildflecken,’ 18. Edna Osborne Private Family Papers, held by John Stotts, Oshawa, Ontario, ‘Performance Evaluation, Copy of United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration Displaced Persons Operations, Germany, Personnel Action, August 27 1946, C.H. Crammer, Chief Personnel Officer.’ See http:/www.sasw.ca/history.html for a biography of Edna Osborne. The private family papers have copies of her application to the Canadian Association of Social Workers, which details her educational background and work experience. Biographical information on Jean Watt is contained in LAC, CNA, MG 28, 1248, Biographical Files, vol. 160, file 57. Creelman, ‘With UNRRA in Germany,’ Canadian Nurse, 43.8 (1947): 608. See UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/2.0.6.0–14, ‘Health Program British Zone Germany, H. Gleason to Miss L. Creelman, Report of Field Survey of Health of Displaced Persons, Children, British Zone, November 7, 1945,’ 9–10. UNA, UNRRA, S-0518–0024, Health Personnel, Mary Dunn. Lyle Creelman, ‘With UNRRA in Germany,’ Canadian Nurse, 43:8 (1947): 607. UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/3.011.20.2, S-0434, vol. 3, file 11, ‘Review of UNRRA Nurses’ Activities in the Hamburg and Wentorf Areas 1945–1946, Mary Dunn, Public Health Services in the Wentorf Camp, British Zone, Schleswig-Holstein Region.’ Ibid. See, for example, UNA, UNRRA, S-0523–563, ‘Lyle Creelman, Chief Nurse, British Zone, Germany to: Miss S.J. Haines, deputy chief nurse, UNRRA, ERO December 3, 1945.’ UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/2.0.6.0:3, ‘Nursing Reports from Germany, Minutes of the Nurses Conference 53 Welfare Division,’ 19 January 1946. LC, Creelman, ‘Diary of Service with UNRRA,’ 7. UNA, UNRRA, S-0523–561–1, ‘Director of Health to Lt. Col. Hugh R. Leavell, USPHS,’ 13 August 1945.

Notes to pages 265–70

431

43 UNA, UNRRA, Historical Monographs, Thorne, ‘Report for History Project,’ 10. See also UNA, UNRRA, S-0520–0399, ‘Nursing Program: Strictly Confidential: Miss L. Johnston and Miss F.N. Udell, Chief Nurses, to Dr Goodman, Director Health Division,’ 16 March 1946. 44 LC, Creelman, ‘Diary of Service with UNRRA,’ 8. See also UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/2.0.6.0:3, ‘Miscellaneous Nurses Reports to ERO from Camps and Teams, Memo: Miss L. Creelman, Chief Nurse, to Dr. Phillips, Chief Medical Officer, Nursing Report for the Month of October 1945,’ 3 November 1945. 45 UNA, UNRRA, PAG4/3.0.11.3.2.5, German mission, U.S. Zone, UNRRA District #3, Team 176 Bamberg, November 1945–September 1946; Team 1043 Bamburg; Team 1044 Bayneth, vol. 525, ‘Memo: Madeline S. Taylor. Regional Supervisory Nurse, Bamberg, to: T.D.G. Napier, Director Team 176, December 31, 1945, Report of Supervisory Visit, Germany Mission, U.S. Zone, Team 1043 Bamberg; Team 1044 Bayneth, Team 176 Bamberg.’ 46 UNA, UNRRA, German mission, U.S. Zone, UNRRA District #3, Team 176 Bamberg; Team 1044 Bayneth, vol. 525, ‘Memo: Madeline S. Taylor, District Nurse Consultant, to Mr. A.C. Dunn, Director District 3, Regensburg, Report of Visit of District Nurse Consultant May 24, 1946, Bamburg, Team 176, Nurse Miss Cameron, UNA, UNRRA, Germany Mission, US Zone, Team 1043 Bamberg; Team 1044 Bayneth, Team 176 Bamberg.’ 47 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/2 .0.6.0:3, ‘Nursing Reports from Germany, Madeline S. Taylor, to Dr. A. Sainz de la Pena, Chief Health Division, April 31, 1947, Activity Report for April 1947, Nursing Division.’ 48 See, for example, UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/3.0.11.3.2:5, vol. 525, ‘Madeline S. Taylor, District Nursing Consultant to: Mr. A.C Dunn, Director District No.3 Regensburg, Subject: Bamberg, Team 307, Visit July 4 to Nurse Cunningham, UNA, UNRRA, German Mission, US Zone’; ‘Madeline Taylor, to: Mr. J.H. Whiting, Report of Supervisory Nurse Visit, Seliqenstad Camp, January 12, 1946.’ 49 UNA, UNRRA, S-0523–0563, Lyle Creelman to Florence Udell, ‘Report for November 1945.’ 50 UNA, UNRRA, PAG4/2.0.6.0:3, ‘Nursing Reports from Germany, Madeline S. Taylor to Miss S.J. Haines, Chief Nurse,’ 7 May 1947, 4. 51 UNA, UNRRA, Historical Monographs, Thorne, ‘Report for History Project,’ 6. 52 UNA, UNRRA, Historical Monographs, Taylor, ‘History of Nursing Operations in UNRRA Displaced Persons Camps,’ 2. 53 Interview, Susan Armstrong-Reid with Lyle Creelman, Vancouver, 10 August 2004.

432 Notes to pages 270–5 54 Cf. Logan Tunis, Cap and Gowns, 82. See also ‘Canadian Nurses in UNRRA,’ Canadian Nurse, 240–2. 55 UNA, UNNRA, Historical Monographs, Thorne, ‘Report for History Project,’ 3. 56 UNA, UNRRA, S-0523–0563, ‘Nursing Reports from Germany, Minutes of Conference on Nursing Education for Displaced Persons, British Occupied Zone, Held at the UNRRA Training Centre for Nursing Aides Bergen Near Belsen, August 19, 20, 21, 1946.’ 57 UNA, UNRRA, Historical Monographs, Thorne, ‘Report for History Project,’ 7. 58 UNA, UNRRA. Historical Monographs, Taylor, ‘History of Nursing Operations in UNRRA Displaced Persons Camps,’ 12. 59 UNA, UNRRA, S-0518–0024, Health Personnel. 60 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/2 .0.6.0:3, ‘Nursing Reports from Germany, Madeline S. Taylor, to Dr. A. Sainz de la Pena, Chief Health Division, April 31, 1947, Activity Report for April 1947, Nursing Division,’ 3. 61 UNA , UNRRA, PAG 4/3.0.11.2:6, ‘Madeline S. Taylor to Mr. J.E. Flannery, Chief of Field Operations Report of Visit of District Nurse,’ 5 December 1946. 62 UNA, UNRRA, Historical Monographs, Thorne, ‘Report for History Project,’ 8. 63 For a full discussion of Raphael Cilento’s increasing dissatisfaction with UNRRA’s official repatriation policy and his attempts to shield the Polish displaced persons from unwanted repatriation, see Fedora Gould Fischer, Raphael Cilento, 210–15. 64 See Lyle Creelman, ‘With UNRRA in Germany,’ Canadian Nurse, 43:9 (1947): 711; see also UNA, UNRRA, Historical Monographs, Thorne, ‘Report for History Project,’ 8. 65 UNA, UNRRA, Historical Monographs, Thorne, ‘Report for History Project,’ 6. 66 UNA, UNRRA, Historical Monographs, Taylor, ‘History of Nursing Operations in UNRRA Displaced Persons Camps,’ 2. 67 Cf. Hulme, The Wild Place, 28–37. 68 LAC, FLP, MG 31, K9, vol. 20, UNRRA file, L.C. Rutherford and O.J. Gobert, ‘Report on Trip to the Field (American Zone), December 6–13, 1946.’ 69 Cornell and Russell, eds., Letters from Belsen 1945, 207. 70 Ibid., 146. 71 LC, Creelman, ‘Diary of Service with UNRRA,’ 2. 72 Cf. UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/2.0.6.0–14, ‘R.W. Cilento, To: Dr. Neville Goodman, Health Division, ERO, August 16, 1945, UNRRA Supervision of the Hospital at Belsen Camp,’ 1.

Notes to pages 275–85 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80

81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104

433

Lyle Creelman, ‘With UNRRA in Germany,’ Canadian Nurse 43.7 (1947): 556. Ibid. Cornell and Russell, eds., Letters from Belsen, 114. Ibid., 99. Ibid., 137. LAC, FLP, MG 31, K9, vol. 20, UNRRA file, Janet Vanderwell to Libbie Rutherford, 10 September 1945. Cornell and Russell, eds., Letters from Belsen, 117. For a telling portrayal of the challenges of caring for and rehabilitating the inmates of concentration camps, see the account of Dr L. Hahn, medical superintendent, Glynn Hughes Hospital, Belsen, May 11, 1947, in UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/4.2:83, ‘UNRRA Team at Belsen Displaced Persons. # Br 26.’ Ibid., 13. LC, Creelman, ‘Diary of Service with UNRRA,’ 2. Cf. Hahn, ‘UNRRA Team at Belsen Displaced Persons. # Br 26,’ 7. Ibid., 113. LAC, FLP, MG 31, K9, vol. 20, UNRRA file, Beatrice Roberts to Libbie Rutherford, 19 August 1945. BRW, Beatrice Roberts, unpublished manuscript, ‘Dillingen,’ 26. Beatrice Roberts to Libbie Rutherford, 19 August 1945. Ibid. BRW, Roberts, ‘Dillingen,’ 28 September 1945. Ibid., Dillingen, 18 February 1946. Ibid., Augsburg, 12 March 1946. Ibid., Augsburg, 15 April 1946. Ibid., Augsburg, 20 May 1946. Ibid., Augsburg, 30 June 1946. Ibid., Dillingen, 25 July 1946. Ibid., Dillingen, 1 August 1946. Ibid., Dillingen, 7 August 1946. Ibid., Dillingen, 20 January 1946. Ibid., Dillingen, 3 March 1946. Ibid., Dillingen, 7 January 1946. UNA, UNRRA, U.S. Zone Germany, History Report no. 22 – Health Annex A: Nursing History. UNA, UNRRA, S-01518-0700, ERO 293 Health Division Weekly Staff Meetings, 13 June 1946. UNA, UNRRA, Historical Monographs, Taylor, ‘History of Nursing Operations in UNRRA Displaced Persons Camps.’ Interview, Susan Armstrong-Reid with Lyle Creelman.

434 Notes to pages 288–98 10. The Bridge of Sorrows 1 Woodbridge, UNRRA, 2:374 2 Ibid., 2:389. 3 MacBride, ‘UNRRA Nurses in China,’ 610–11. 4 See McClure, ‘The Chinese Doctor,’ 543. McClure’s views are supported by others; see University of Rochester Library, Alvah Strong Miller Papers, box 1, file 3, ‘Letter from China,’ 1. 5 Woodbridge, UNRRA, 2:414. 6 University of Western Ontario, Hugh Mackenzie Papers, B4532, Office of Public Information, UNRRA China Office, Harry B. Price, assistant director and historian of the China Office, ‘UNRRA in China.’ 7 Ibid., 412–14. 8 UMLSWA, FH, vol. 91, file 16, Clark to Fred Hoehler, 22 March 1946. 9 ‘Interesting People,’ Canadian Nurse, 43.10 (1947): 802. 10 UMLSWA, FH, vol. 91, file 16, Clark to Fred Hoehler, 22 March 1946 11 Scott, McLure, 387. 12 http://www.ku.edu/carrie/specoll/AFS/library/4–ww2/Friends/ fau07.html 13 Scott, McLure, 367. 14 Socknat, ‘The Canadian Contribution to the China Convoy.’ 15 Telephone interview, Susan Armstrong-Reid with Harriet Alexander and Hilarie Jones (daughter), 26 July 2005. 16 PC, CQYMA, Friends Ambulance Unit, China Convoy (hereafter FAU, CC), Dorland to ‘Dear Friends,’ 30 September 1945. 17 Telephone interview with Harriet Alexander and Hilarie Jones. 18 Walter James Alexander Private Papers, copy of interview by family members entitled ‘Walter James Alexander tells of his life’ (n.d.). 19 EVA, taped interview with Wilfred Howarth, vol. 1, ‘Starting with the FAU.’ 20 PC, CQYMA, FAU, CC, Dorland to ‘Dear Friends,’ 11 February 1945. 21 Ibid., Al Dobson, ‘Ship A-hoy,’ n.d. 22 Ibid. 23 Harriet Brown, circular letter, 15 August 1945. Cited in Socknat, ‘The Canadian Contribution to the China Convoy,’ 83. 24 EVA, taped interview with Wilfred Howarth, ‘Starting with the FAU.’ 25 Scott, McLure, 374. 26 Harriet Brown Alexander Private Papers, copy of Dr Graham Milne’s ‘Two Women.’ 27 PC, CQYMA, FAU, CC, J.D. McMurtry to Fred (Haslam), 31 October 1945.

Notes to pages 298–308 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38

39

40

41

42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50

435

Ibid., Alex Dobson to ‘Dear Friends,’ Liuchow, 11 October 1945. Ibid., Alex Dobson to Friends, 31 August 1945. Ibid., Alex Dobson to ‘Dear Friends,’ 11 October 1945. Ibid., Alex Dobson to ‘Mates,’ 27 November 1945. Harriet Brown, circular letter, June 1946, cited in Socknat, ‘The Canadian Contribution to the China Convoy,’ 84. JD, Jack Dodds to ‘Dear Mother, Dad et All,’ 8 July 1945. PC, CQYMA, FAU, CC, Alex Dobson to ‘Dear Friends and Companions,’ Union Hospital, 17 February 1946. Ibid., Alex Dobson to ‘Dear Friends and Companions,’ Wa Mei Hospital, 18 February 1947. Ibid., 384. Ibid., Albert Dorland to ‘Dear Friends,’ 24 October 1945. Ibid., Alex Dobson to ‘Dear Friends and Companions,’ 18 February 1947. Other FAU members told similar stories of their medical adventures in Honan, ‘when they tried our hand at everything from mid-wivery to reviving drowning people.’ See JD, Jack Dodds to ‘Mother, Dad et All,’ 12 September 1946. Ed Abbott, who replaced Alexander as the hospital administrator, wrote to his future wife a detailed account of Alexander’s accomplishments. See EVA, ‘China Letters,’ 29 December 1945; 19 and 20 March 1946; 17 May 1946. UCC, VUA, UCC Board of Overseas Missions, 83.045c, fond 502, FA 186, Series 4/3, China Honan Mission 1912–52, box 12, file 200, Walter Alexander, Hwei Min Hospital, Weihwei, Honan Monthly Report for July 1946. We are indebted to Dr Sonya Grypamn for sharing this document. UCC, VUA, UCC Board of Overseas Missions 83.045c, fond 502, FA 186, Series 4/3, China Honan Mission 1912–52, box 12, file 200, Walter Alexander Hwei Min Hospital, FAU Team Report for August 1946. Ibid. http://www.peacemakersguide.org/articles/peacemakers/James-Alexander.htm: Hilarie Jones/James Alexander Bruderhof, Peacemakers Guide. PC, CQYMA, FAU, CC, Albert Dorland to ‘Dear Friends,’ 26 January 1946. Ibid., Albert Dorland to ‘Dear Friends,’ 24 February 1946. Ibid., Francis Starr, ‘Dream Dreams then write them Aye, but live them first,’ 19. EVA, taped interview with Wilfred Howarth, ‘With the FAU in China.’ PC, CQYMA, FAU, CC, Starr, ‘Dream Dreams then write them Aye, but live them first.’ Ibid., Francis Starr to Friends, 1 January 1946. For a description of the FAU’s crucial role in the rehabilitation of Hsiang Ya

436 Notes to pages 308–18

51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72

73 74 75

Hospital and nursing school, see Schlosser, ‘Rebirth of a School of Nursing,’ 533. PC, CQYMA, FAU, CC, Albert Dorland, ‘Letter to Meeting,’ November 26, 1946. EVA, taped interview with Wilfred Howarth, ‘With the FAU in China ’ JD, Jack Dodds to ‘Dear Mother and Dad & all,’ 25 February 1947 and 15 September 1947. PC, CQYMA, FAU, CC, Albert Dorland, ‘Letter to Meeting,’ 26 November 1946. Obituaries, Canadian Medical Journal, 56 (March 1947): 348. Allan E. Levine, ‘Tilson Lever Harrison,’ http://thecanadianencyclopedia .com/index.cfm?PgNm=TCE&Params=A1ARTA0010360. UNA, UNRRA, PAG4/4.0:6, Historians’ Files, Interviews, Joseph Buchalter, executive officer at Hanchow China, 13 March 1947. PC, CQYMA, FAU, CC, Albert Dorland to Meeting, 21 January 1947. This account was recounted by Reg Smith at the reunion of the FAU China Convoy, 12 November 1977, 16 (PC, CQYMA, FAU, CC). Similar accounts of life on the road are contained in EVA, taped interview with Wilfred Howarth, ‘With the FAU in China.’ PC, CQYMA, FAU, CC, Francis Starr to Friends, 17 March 1946. MacBride, ‘UNRRA Nurses in China,’ 610–11. Reimer, ‘Letters from Near and Far,’ 899. Reimer, ‘With UNRRA in Egypt,’ 484. Reimer, ‘Letters from Near and Far,’ 899. ‘Interesting People,’ Canadian Nurse, 45.10 (1947): 802. Cf. MacBride, ‘UNRRA Nurses in China,’ 612. Reimer, ‘Letters from Near and Far,’ 899. WGH/HSCNAA, Blue and White, Winnipeg General Hospital, Class of 1937 Yearbook. Hermanson, ‘Letters from Near and Far: In Formosa,’ 979. WGH/HSCNAA, Beryl Seeman, ‘In Memoriam Helena Reimer,’ Nurses Alumnae Journal (1993): 68–9. Cf. Harry S. Truman Library and Museum, Truman Oral History, ‘Memorandum: Mr. John Leighton Stuart, United States Ambassador to China to: Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek, Chairman of the National Government of the Republic of China, Memorandum on the Situation in Taiwan,’ 18 April 1947, 5. Ibid., 13. Ibid., 14. Allan J. Shackleton, ‘Formosa Calling: An Eyewitness Account of the February 28, 1947 Incident.’ http://tacpa.org/column/FormosaCalling/ readme.html

Notes to pages 318–27

437

76 UNA, UNRRA, S-528, box 36, Taipei Field Group, Dr Ira D. Hirschy to Dr Stanley Leland, chief medical officer, 30 April 1947. 77 Ibid., Hans Johnsen to Harlan Cleveland, director, UNRRA China Office, 24 October 1947. 78 UNA, UNRRA, S-0518–0086, ‘Outplacement Biographical Sketches: Muriel Graham.’ 79 UNA, UNRRA, S-0528–0332, UNRRA Subject Files, vol. 8, Helena Reimer to Walter D. Fitzpatrick, UNRRA chief regional representative, Formosa Regional Office, Taipei, Taiwan (‘attention Miss McBride’), 29 June 1946. 80 For a description of how similar obstacles were encountered by the UNRRA nurses who sought to rehabilitate the nursing school and hospital in central China, see Schlosser, ‘Rebirth of a School of Nursing,’ 532–4. 11. Ties That Bind 1 LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 2295-Q-40C, memorandum, ‘Termination of UNRRA,’ September 1946. 2 Ibid., Memorandum, ‘top secret,’ ‘Post-UNRRA,’ drafted by Arnold Smith, 17 October 1946. 3 Hilliker and Barry, Canada’s Department of External Affairs, 31. 4 LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 9255-40C, ‘secret memorandum,’ ‘Note for Mr. Pearson from R.G. Riddell,’ 18 October 1946. 5 Ibid., ‘secret memorandum,’ ‘Memorandum to the Canadian Delegation to the General Assembly concerning International Relief Questions after the Termination of UNRRA,’ 4 November 1946. See also DCER, 12, 1946, doc. 658, 1143–5. 6 LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 9255-40C (WA-3899), chargé d’affaires to secretary of state for external affairs, Washington, 31 October 1946. See also DCER, 12, 1946, doc. 660, 1146–7. 7 Ibid. (EX-2752), Pearson to Wrong, 2 November 1946; DCER, 12, 1946, doc. 661, 1147. 8 LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 9255-40C (EX-2768), Pearson to Wrong, 5 November 1946. 9 Ibid., file 9255-40C, memorandum, R.G. Riddell to L.B. Pearson, 17 November 1946. 10 Ibid. (no. 124), Riddell to Reid, 16 November 1946. 11 Ibid., Wrong to Pearson, 8 November 1946. 12 Ibid., R.B. Bryce, ‘Memorandum on Discussions Today with the Americans and British regarding Post-UNRRA Relief,’ Washington, 7 November 1946. 13 Ibid. (no.124), Riddell to Reid, 16 November 1946. 14 Martin, Sr, A Very Public Life, 1:426. 15 Ibid., 1:427.

438 Notes to pages 327–36 16 United Nations Journal, no. 35, Supplement no. 2–A-C2-53, speech by Paul Martin, 16 November 1946. 17 LAC, RG 25, DEA, file 9255-40C, no. 162, Pearson to Martin, 25 November 1946. 18 Ibid., L.B. Pearson, ‘Memorandum for the Prime Minister: Post UNRRA Relief,’ 6 December 1946. 19 Ibid., Pearson to Martin, 25 November 1946. 20 Ibid., L.B. Pearson, ‘Memorandum for the Prime Minister.’ 21 Ibid., L.B. Pearson to Paul Martin, 6 December 1946. 22 Ibid., no. 360, Frances Godsoe to Alan Field (director of Information Service), 8 December 1946. See also Martin, Sr, ‘Food Relief Discussions at the U.N. Assembly.’ 23 Ibid. 24 Martin, A Very Public Life, 429. 25 For a broader appraisal of early Canadian Cold War diplomacy, see Page and Munton, ‘Canadian Images of the Cold War.’ 26 UNA, UNRRA, S-0520–0286, memorandum, Grace Hyndman to Virginia Addison, ‘Re: Terminated UNRRA employees and Canadian Immigration Policy,’ 13 February 1947. 27 Cf. ibid., T.J. Keenan to Molly Flynn, ‘Informal Report’ no. 10, 4 March 1947. 28 Ibid., T.J. Keenan to Molly Flynn, 17 February 1947. 29 Ibid., T.J. Keenan to Molly Flynn, ‘Informal Report’ no. 5, 14 February 1947. 30 Grace Hyndman to Virginia Addison, memorandum, 13 February 1947. 31 For a summary of his activities to promote adult-education programs for immigrants, see T.J. Keenan to Molly Flynn, ‘Informal Report,’ 4 March 1947. 32 Grace Hyndman to Virginia Addison, memorandum, 13 February 1947. 33 UNA, UNRRA, S-0520–0286, Grace Hyndman to Sue Whitman, 4 March 1947. 34 Ibid. 35 Ibid., Molly Flynn to Lowell W. Rooks, director general, special assistant to the Bureau of Services, 5 February 1947. 36 LAC, CASW, MG 28, 1441, vol. 38, file 38-16, Berna Martin Holt to Ruth Harvey, 15 May 1947. 37 Ibid., Harriet Selby to Ruth Harvey, 21 May 1947. 38 Ibid., Jean Henshaw to Ruth Harvey, 13 May 1947. 39 Ibid., Margaret Newton Kilpatrick to Ruth Harvey, 5 May 1947. 40 Ibid., Eileen Pumple to Ruth Harvey, 8 July 1947. 41 Ibid., Gabriel Patry to Ruth Harvey, n.d..

Notes to pages 336–48 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62

439

Ibid., Jean Henshaw to Ruth Harvey, 13 May 1947. Ibid., Sarah Rhinewine to Joy A. Maines, 27 May 1947. Ibid., Catharine M. Sabine to Ruth Harvey, 27 May 1947. Ibid., Irene Page to Ruth Harvey, 19 May 1947. Ibid., Berna Holt to Ruth Harvey, 15 May 1947. Ibid., Margaret Newton Kilaprick to Ruth Harvey, 5 May 1947. Ibid., Eileen Pumple to Ruth Harvey, 8 July 1947. Ibid. Ibid., Joy Maines to Irene Page, 25 June 1947. Ibid. Senate, Proceedings of the Standing Committee on Immigration and Labour, Minutes of Evidence, 24 April 1947, 79. Ibid., 76. Ibid., 69. Ibid., 79. Ibid., 265. Ibid., 11 February 1948, 70–1. Ibid., 4 February 1948, 28. Ibid. Ibid., 30 July 1946, 229 (the original letter was written on 29 July 1945). Ibid., appendix A, T.J. Keenan to Chairman James Murdoch, 22 April 1947, 103–16. Franca Iacovetta, ‘A Respectable Feminist: The Political Career of Senator Cairine Wilson, 1921–1962,’ in Kealey and Sangster, eds., Beyond the Vote, 76.

12. Legacies 1 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/4.0:6, Historians’ Files, Interviews, Thomas Davidson, team director, D.P. Operations, Germany, 10 April 1947, 14. 2 Ibid. 3 LAC, CNA, MG 28, I 441, vol. 38, file 16, T.G.M. Davidson to Constance Hayward, 26 November 1946. 4 McGill University, Department of Rare Books and Special Collections, LF, William S. Lightall to Alice M. Lightall, 14 August 1948. 5 LAC, MG 26, W.L.M. King Papers, J4, C195216–20, Charity Grant to Brooke Claxton, minister of national health and welfare, 20 April 1946. 6 http://www.virtualmuseum.ca/Exhibitions/orphans/english/ biographies/lieberman/chapter8.html. 7 Handwritten notes for an article. See Canadian Jewish Congress, National Archives, Canadian Jewish Congress Records, Central File series, Series

440 Notes to pages 349–55

8 9 10 11 12 13 14

15

16

17 18 19 20 21 22

23 24 25 26 27

CA, vol. 00035, File 00340, Ostry Ethel-UNRRA Hospital, 1947–9, Germany, Ethel Ostry to Mr Rome, 21 December 1948. For the Canadian background to this story, see Abella and Troper, None Is Too Many, 270–4. Ostry Genkind, ‘Children from Europe,’ 33. University of Manitoba, EO, unpublished mss. (edited by Elizabeth O. Fischer), ‘Life after the Holocaust: My Work with UNRRA,’ 185. EB, Elizabeth Brown, unpublished mss., ‘Europe,’ 4. Ibid., 5. Ibid., 8. Barbara Lloyd, ‘Extendicare Resident Wins Award for Lifetime Service,’ Peterborough Examiner, 20 October 1986. See series of letters seeking employment after his position with UNRRA was terminated in September 1946. University of British Columbia Archives, LM, vol. 29, file 1. For a more fully developed view of the influences that defined Leonard Marsh’s career, see Wilcox-Magill and Helmes-Hayes, ‘Leonard Marsh: Canadian Social Reformer.’ Margaret Kilpatrick Private Papers, Toronto, address by James Struthers, Canadian Studies Program, Trent University, at the 75th dinner of the Faculty of Social Work, University of Toronto, held at Hart House, 12 October 1989, 15–16. WGH/HSCNAA, scrapbooks, newspaper clipping of Josephine de Brincat’s obituary, 23 January 1986. CNRBC, Oral History, Interview, Audrey Stegen with Mary Henderson, 27 April 1988. Transcribed by Ethel Warbinek, 3 January 1993. ‘Nursing Profiles,’ Canadian Nurse, 54.6 (1958): 576. Nursing Profiles,’ Canadian Nurse, 59.10 (1963): 961; LAC, CNA, 1248, Biographical Files vol. 159, file 14. LAC, CNA, 1248, Biographical Files, vol. 160, file 57. See also Montreal Star, 17 January 1957. A number of her UNRRA friends wrote to Edna Osborne during the illness that claimed her life and afterwards to the family to express their condolences. E.O. Ibid., ‘Edna Osborne Remembered,’ presentation of the Second Annual Distinguished Services Award in Social Work, 1980. Ibid., ‘Edna Osborne, 1905–1984,’ Saskatchewan Social Worker, 14.1 (2003). Zilm and Warbinek, Legacy, 90. See Lyle Creelman, ‘Nursing in the World,’ 814–19. See, for example, Kelly Shiers, ‘A World-Class Health Professional,’ Halifax Chronicle Herald, 14 March 2007 (http://www.herald.ns.ca/NovaScotia);

Notes to pages 355–73

28 29 30 31 32 33

34

441

Sandra Martin, ‘Lyle Creelman, Nurse Administrator, 1908–2007,’ Globe and Mail, 10 March 2007, 59. WGH/HSCNA, Dr Helena Friesen Reimer biographical/clippings file. See, for example, CNA Annual Report for 2001. Reports are available on line at: www.cna-nurses.ca/CNA/about/meetings/reports. Allan E. Levine, ‘Tilson Lever Harrison.’ UNA, UNRRA, S-0518–0086, ‘Outplacement Biographical Sketches.’ In fact, most Canadian UNRRA secretarial staff functioned as executive secretaries managing Class II employees. Meritorious pay supplements were most frequently granted in the case of the China mission. Given the shortage of skilled secretaries that UNRRA experienced, higher salaries reflected the necessity of attracting and retaining women to work in foreign countries where they were more socially vulnerable and subject to harsh living and working conditions. Consider, for example, the work of Major Oswald Murray McConkey, who became a leading exponent of conserving Canada’s soils and forests and played a key role in founding the World Soil Conservation Society.

Conclusion 1 UNA, UNRRA, PAG 4/4.0.6, George Mooney to ‘Cas’ (Casgrain), 17 July 1946. 2 Pearson, Mike, 1:259. 3 Pearson, Words and Occasions, 57. 4 UTA, HC, cited in UNRRA, Weekly Bulletin, no. 19, December 1944. 5 English, Shadow of Heaven, 268–9. 6 Pearson, Mike, 1:289. 7 John English, ‘A Fine Romance: Canada and the United Nations, 1943– 1957,’ in Donaghy, ed., Canada and the Early Cold War, 81. 8 WSR, unpublished mss, ‘The UNRRA Experience, 1945–46.’ 9 Charity Grant Private Papers, ‘Helping People (Post-war),’ Belmont Book of Memories (2000), 42–3.

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454 Bibliography Pettiss, Susan T., with Lynne Taylor. After the Shooting Stopped: The Story of An UNRRA Welfare Worker in Germany 1945–47. Victoria: Trafford 2004. Plumptre, A.F. Three Decades of Decision: Canada and the World Monetary System, 1944–75. Toronto: McClelland and Stewart 1977. ‘Poland Abuses UNRRA.’ Life, 21 (16 December 1946). ‘Politics of Relief.’ Time, 44 (16 October 1944). Pope, Maurice. Soldiers and Politicians: Memoirs. Toronto: University of Toronto Press 1962. ‘Problems of UNRRA.’ Canadian Business, 17 (October 1944). Reimer, Helena. ‘Letters from Near and Far.’ Canadian Nurse, 42.10 (1946). – ‘With UNRRA in Egypt.’ Canadian Nurse, 41.4 (1945). Richardson, B.T. ‘Introduction to UNRRA.’ Canadian Business, 17.1 (1944). – ‘What UNRRA Means to Canada.’ Canadian Business, 17 (1944). Ritchie, Charles. The Siren Years: A Canadian Diplomat Abroad 1937–45. Toronto: Macmillan 1974. ‘Robert Rolf Struthers: Obituary.’ Canadian Medical Association Journal, 122 (1980): 122. Sandwell, B.K. ‘Our Influence in Foreign Affairs.’ Saturday Night, 56 (12 October 1940). Sayre, Francis B. ‘Relieving World Distress.’ Academy of Political Science Proceedings, 21 (May 1945). – ‘The Task of Relief and Rehabilitation in Europe and Asia Today.’ U.S. Department of State Bulletin, 10 July 1943. Schlosser, Frances E. ‘Rebirth of a School of Nursing: The Rebirth of a Nursing School and Hospital in Central China.’ American Journal of Nursing, 47.8 (1947). Sereny, Gitta. ‘Stolen Children.’ http://www.virtualmuseum.ca/Exhibitions/ orphans/ english/biographies/lieberman/chapter8.html Shiers, Kelly. ‘A World-Class Health Professional,’ Halifax Chronicle Herald, 14 March 2007. http://www.herald.ns.ca/NovaScotia Snyder, Jeanette. ‘A Lighthouse.’ American Journal of Nursing, 46.3 (1946). Socknat, Thomas B. ‘The Canadian Contribution to the China Convoy.’ Quaker History: The Bulletin of Friends Historical Association, 6.2 (1980): 69–90. Soward, Frederick Hubert. ‘Canada and the World.’ In Alexander Brady and F.R. Scott, eds., Canada after the War: Studies in Political, Social and Economic Policies for Post-war Canada. Toronto: Macmillan 1943. – Canada in World Affairs: From Normandy to Paris, 1944–46. Toronto, New York: Oxford University Press 1950. Spencer, Robert A. Canada in World Affairs: From UN to NATO, 1946–1949. Toronto: University of Toronto Press 1959.

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Index

Abbott, Edward Vale, 294, 296, 394, 435n39 Abernathy, Christine, 383 Acheson, Dean: at Atlantic City I session, 47; and Canada on Central Committee, 22, 25, 26, 60; and multilateralism, 326; and Pearson, 28 Adelheide (Germany), 265 Agricultural Rehabilitation Division (UNRRA), 83 agriculture: in China, 359; immigrants as labour in, 332–3; during Second World War, 38; in Ukraine, 359. See also farmers aid. See relief Albania, Greek refugees from, 142–3 Albanian mission, 141 Alexander, Harriet. See Brown, Harriet Alexander, Walter, 292–4, 299, 302, 303–4 Allied Control Commission, 249, 255, 370 Allied Expeditionary Forces (SCAEF), 163 Altounyan, Ernest, 158–9

American Christian Committee for Refugees (ACCR), 146 American Friends Society, 291 American Zone (Germany): black market in, 181; camp riots in, 181; Child Welfare Division in, 203–4, 205–6; child-welfare officer, 203, 215, 217; infiltrees in, 172, 175, 185, 205; Jewish children in, 203, 205; nursing education in, 269, 271–2; nursing services in, 256, 262, 266, 267; Russian civilian teachers in, 210; Wodlinger in, 161 Angus, H.F., 54 anti-communism, 71, 330 Archer, Laird, 127, 131, 132–133, 139, 140 Arnold, Mary, 384 Arnstein, Margaret, 230, 235 Arolsen (Germany), 188 assembly centres, 103, 263–4; Foehrenwald as, 206; Landsutt, 214; unaccompanied children in, 196 Athens: bombing of, 134; Central Clearing Station, 136; civil war in, 131, 134–5; nursing in, 241–3 Athens Office, 143

458 Index Atlantic City I Council meeting, 42– 51 Atlantic City II Council meeting, 62– 9 atomic bombs, 56 Augsburg Hospital, 280–1, 282 Ault, Eleanor Frances, 384 Auschwitz concentration camp, 202 Australia: Canada and, 49–50; on Central Committee, 60 Austria, Soviet requisition of land in, 63–4 Avison, Douglas Bray, 394 Awmack, Joe, 394 babies. See infants Bad Kissingen (Germany), 349 Baggallay, Olive, 242, 243 Bailey, Austin, 331 Baillie, J.H., 354 Baillie-Creelman Report, 354 Baird, Robert P., 393 Balkan mission, 108, 117, 125–8, 140– 1, 159, 174 Baltic peoples, 333; children, 211–12; as prospective immigrants to Canada, 337, 344–5 Bamberg (Germany), 266 Barger, Evert, 133, 137, 142 Baron de Hirsch Institute, 178 Barr, Kenneth, 186, 420n43 Barton, G.S.H., 79 Bartsch, C. Louise, 277, 278, 352, 387 Basin, Ethel and Edward, 347 Bates, Stewart, 409n55 Bavaria, displaced persons in, 171–2 Beck, Howard Russell, 395 Belsen concentration camp, 166–8, 254

Belsen Hospital (Germany), 254, 255, 256, 266, 275–8, 433n80 Ben Gurion, David, 151 Beneš, Eduard, 83 Bennett, Ken, 294 Bernardin, Germine, 387 Bethune, Norman, 252, 301, 311, 356 Bethune International Peace Hospitals (China), 301, 308, 311 bilateralism: of negotiations, 95; of relief, 70, 71, 327–8 Bischofsgrun Sanatorium (Germany), 257–8 black market: at Camp Eschweg, 177; at Camp Foehrenwald, 181; in China, 300 Bockhorn camp (Germany), 259–60 Boone, James, 179 Borders, Karl, 77, 85 Bowles, Newton, 391–2 Bracken, John, 31, 339 Bradford, Marjorie: on Edmison, 163–4; on idealism, 107; and maternal and child care, 122, 196, 202; Pedley and, 200; post-UNRRA career, 344; at SHAEF headquarters, Paris, 174; and travailleuses, 198–200; and voluntary agencies, 107, 196 Braithwaite, Verna Margaret Sweezey, 357, 392 Branscombe, Martha, 122, 198 Brenner, Etta J., 387 Brenton, Janet, 387 Bretton Woods, 363 British Dominions Office, 21 British Zone (Germany): Creelman in, 254, 255–6; and Jewish refugees, 172; nursing education in,

Index 269–70; nursing services in, 256, 266, 267; Struthers in, 218 Britton, Lloyd Rutledge, 392 Brown, Elizabeth: career of, 160; diaries of, 126; with IRO, 349–50; in Jerusalem, 126, 148–59; at Maryland Training Centre, 146–7; on nurses, 244; original posting to Yugoslavia, 147, 370; performance evaluation, 157; personality of, 146, 147, 358; post-UNRRA career, 344; and resettlement of Roman Catholic children in Canada, 349– 50; surveying refugees in Middle East, 147–8 Brown, Harold D., 392 Brown, Harriet, 292–4, 295–8, 299, 302, 303 Brown, Wes, 395 Bruce, Marnie, 212, 389 Bruce, Stanley, 60 Bryanton, Edna M., 386 Bryce, Robert, 326 Buchenwald concentration camp, 182 Bullock, Noel, 405n65 Bureau of Finance and Administration (UNRRA), 136 Bureau of Supply (UNRRA): Canadians in, 49, 91, 93; Hendrickson in, 110, 111; and horsemeat deliveries, 86; Pearson and, 82; Welfare Division and, 110, 111 business sector, and Canadian participation in UNRRA, 35–7 Butler, Ruth, 357 Cabinet War Committee: and Canada chairing Committee on Supplies, 27–8; and Canada on Central Committee, 21, 22, 26

459

Cairns, Andrew, 66–7, 81–2, 84–7, 118 Cairo Agreement, 127 Cairo Council of Voluntary Societies, 127 Cameron, Helen, 266, 387 Campbell, Angus F., 382 camps: crime rates in, 184; in Egypt, 127, 232–9; in Greece, 239–46; monetary and banking system, 187; in Palestine, 127; in Syria, 127. See also assembly centres; and names of individual camps Canada: and Australia, 49–50; and bilateral aid, 71; and Central Committee, 8, 12, 21, 59–60, 364; and Combined Boards, 20; and Combined Food Board, 20; and European food crisis, 65–7, 68; and four-power executive for UNRRA, 20–1; and France on Central Committee, 60; government intervention in wartime economy, 36, 38; and Great Britain, 42, 47, 74–5, 327; identification with Anglo-American allies, 363; and Inter-Allied Relief Committee on Post-War Requirements, 20; as military power, 7; participation in UNRRA, 7–14, 92–7; and post-UNRRA relief, 73–4; prices of goods for UNRRA, 94; procurement in, 55; and recovery of liberated countries, 6–7; relief contracts, 42–3; and relief internationally, 61, 73–4; and relief for Italy, 58–9; self-interest of, 8, 32, 33, 39, 43, 94–5, 96, 342; Senate Standing Committee on Immigration and Labour, 334, 337–40, 341; and smaller powers, 49–50; and Soviet Union, 330; on

460 Index Special Technical Committee, 329; as supplier nation, 7, 43, 47, 48, 60, 74, 377; in UN, 374; and UNICEF, 221; and United States, 42, 59, 61, 74–5, 325–6, 327, 330; UNRRA recruitment in, 117–18 Canadian Advisory Committee (China), 293 Canadian Association of Social Workers (CASW), 334, 373 Canadian Commercial Corporation (CCC), 78, 83–4, 96 Canadian Council of Voluntary Societies, 117 Canadian Export Board, 78 Canadian Exporters’ Association (CEA), 36–7 Canadian Institute of International Affairs, 35 Canadian Jewish Congress (CJC), 182, 373; War Orphans Project, 346, 347–9 Canadian Manufacturers’ Association (CMA), 37 Canadian National Committee on Refugees, 344 Canadian Nurses Association (CNA), 227, 229–31, 355, 368, 373 Canadian Public Health Association, 354 Canadian Relief to Greece Appeal, 344 Cassidy, Harry, 119–21, 351 Catholic Immigrant Aid Society, 349– 50 Central Committee: as agency of Council, 48; approval of director general’s allocation of supplies, 60, 61; Australia and, 60; Canada on, 8, 12, 21–7, 59–60, 364; four-power

executive model, 26; France on, 60; membership of, 21, 59–61; Pearson and, 47; terms of, 5 Cereals Committee (UNRRA), 79 Chaisson, Josephine D., 385 Changte (China), 304 Cheetham, John, 189–92 Chengchow (China), 301 Chepil, William Stephen, 393 Chiang Kai-shek, 287, 293, 316 Child Search and Tracing Bureau (Germany), 203 child welfare: budget cuts to, 212–13; case-based approach to, 200; ethics of, 214, 215; in Italy, 218–19; North American concepts of, 197, 200, 219–20; in Poland, 219; UNRRA policy directives on, 204; in Yugoslavia, 219. See also maternal and child care/welfare Child Welfare Division (UNRRA), 133, 196 children: adoptive German parents of, 197; Baltic, 211–12; centres for, 196; in China, 221, 290; Czechoslovakian, 212; Dutch, 254; fighting as partisans, 204; German, 215; Greek, 131, 132, 241, 245–6; illegitimate, 122, 199–200; immigration of, 336, 346–50; Jewish (see Jewish children); kibbutz groups for, 204, 205; location of parents of, 197; military authorities and, 209–12, 221; nutrition, 218; occupational therapy for, 204; Polish, 208–9, 210; preparation for future, 206–7; renationalization of, 210, 211; repatriation of, 197, 203, 207, 210, 211, 215, 216; resettlement of, 203, 207; reuniting with natural families,

Index 203, 209, 215, 220, 350; Roman Catholic, 349–50; screening of, 209; search teams for, 196, 213–18; stolen, location and removal of, 196, 197, 202, 203, 208, 213, 215, 216; as survivors, 202–3, 204; in Tolumbat camp, 236; of travailleuses, 199; Ukrainian, 210; unaccompanied, 196, 197, 200, 202, 203, 218. See also infants children’s centres, 203 China: agriculture, 359; black market, 300; and Canada’s inclusion in Central Committee, 21; Canadian medical legacy in, 356; children in, 221, 290; civil war, 287, 288–9, 304, 313, 319, 320, 366; Communist territories, 306–9, 310–11; disease in, 289–90; hospitals, 295–300, 299– 300, 302–3, 304; Japanese occupation, 287, 288, 289, 296, 299, 302, 303; laboratory technicians in, 299; medical conditions, 294–5; medical education in, 289; medical-relief work in, 300–1; medical supplies in, 300, 320; Nationalist government, 287, 288; nurses in, 245, 292, 303, 319–20; public-health and sanitation in, 289–90; refugees in, 298, 301, 302; UNRRA in, 287–8 China Convoy, 291, 292–6, 312–13, 359 China Office, 288 Chinese Labour Corps, 310 Chinese National Relief and Rehabilitation Administration (CNRRA), 288 Chinese War Relief Fund, 293, 295 cholera, 296–7, 315, 316 Chou En-Lai, 287, 293

461

Churchill, Winston, 17, 20, 120 Cilento, Sir Raphael, 218, 255–6, 370 Civil Aviation Conference, 363 civilian relief, 6, 17, 19, 42, 43, 95, 103 Clark, Clifford, 26–7, 46–7 Clarke, Vivian, 357 Claxton, Brooke: and Atlantic City I Council Meeting, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48; and Canadian participation in UNRRA, 29–34; on functional principle, 45; Grant’s letter to, 345– 6; and King, 29; on Pearson, 44; and post-UNRRA relief, 331 Clayton, William L., 58, 63, 70, 326 Close Relatives Immigration Scheme, 337 CNA. See Canadian Nurses Association (CNA) Co-operative Commonwealth Federation (CCF), 30, 32, 119 Cold War: and aid to Eastern Europe, 64; and children’s futures, 220–1; and international cooperation, 11; and Middle East operations, 156, 157, 160; and multilateralism, 73– 4; and nursing services, 226; relief distribution and, 96–7; U.S. and, 64 Coldwell, M.J., 31, 339 collaborators, 67, 176, 180, 184. See also travailleuses College of Nurses of Ontario, 353 Combined Boards, 20, 44–5, 47, 49; Committee on Supplies vs., 43, 47 Combined Food Board, 20, 66, 82 Commins, Mary Petronilla, 233, 383 Committee of the Council for Europe and the Far East, 48 Committee on Supplies (UNRRA): Australia and, 60; Canada as chair

462 Index of, 27; Central Committee and, 61; Combined Boards vs., 47; functions of, 47, 48; Pearson and, 47, 60, 61, 80, 362, 363; and policy development, 61; and protection of Canada’s interests, 43, 46–7; and wheat earmarking, 80 commodities: relief by type of, 377; scarcity of, 95; shipments by, 377; shortages of, 82 Commonwealth: at Council meetings, 49; UNRRAIDS from, 115 communism: fear of, 349; poverty and, 324. See also anti-communism Communist Liberated Areas Relief Administration (CLARA), 288 Communist Party of China (CPC), 287, 288–9 concentration-camp survivors, 205; from Belsen, 166–8; immigration of, 340–1; Jewish, 10; nursing of, 275; as patients, 277, 278, 284; visited by German officers, 167–8 concentration camps, 103, 165–6, 249; Auschwitz, 202; Bergen-Belsen, 254, 275; survivors of, 259 conscientious objectors, 290–1, 293–4 Corry, John A., 392 Corsellis, John, 236 Council of British Societies for Relief Abroad (COBSRA), 105 Council (UNRRA): Atlantic City I meeting, 42–51; Atlantic City II meeting, 62–9; Central Committee as agency of, 48; Commonwealth at meetings of, 49; Geneva meeting, 69–74; London meeting, 55– 62; meetings, 41; Montreal meeting, 51–5; multilateralism and meetings of, 41; and obstacles to

repatriation, 183; smaller nations at meetings, 53–4; terms of, 5 Cransdorf, Dr, 300 Creagh, Sir Michael, 133 Creelman, Lyle: achievements of, 370; at Belsen Hospital, 277–8; in British Zone, 253, 255–6, 262–3, 267; career of, 250, 251, 354–5; Cilento and, 255–6, 370; deployment of staff, 265; Doherty and, 275–6; on European nurses, 285; field trips, 264–6; in London, 253– 5; and nursing education, 269–70, 273, 286; on nursing of Jewish patients by German nurses, 276; and nursing supervisors, 262–3, 264–6; as role model for nurses, 269; and status and salaries of nurses, 267–9; Udell and, 253, 267, 285; in Washington, 253; in WHO, 354–5 Czechoslovakia: children of, 212; surplus army trucks to, 83 Dahlgren, Frances, 357 Daly, Conor Joseph, 392 Daniels, Frederick, 141, 201 Darling, George, 135–6, 140 Davidson, Eileen, 386 Davidson, Elizabeth, 203, 210 Davidson, Mr. (Department of Labour), 332 Davidson, Thomas, 343–4 Davis, Frederick John, 382 de Brincat, Josephine, 352, 384, 427– 8n64 De Gaulle, Charles, 164 Deane, Douglas, 190 Delmotte, Justine Marie-Rose, 388 Delongle, Denise, 390

Index democratization, smaller nations and, 48–9 Department of Agriculture (Canada), 81, 86 Department of External Affairs (Canada), 79; on Atlantic City I Council Meeting, 47–8; on bilateral aid, 71; and functional principle, 23; on post-UNRRA aid, 323–4; and relief operations, 78 Department of Finance (Canada), 78 Department of Trade and Commerce (Canada), 78, 81 Deutsch, John, 46 Dickman, Ika, 387 Diefenbaker, John, 30 Dillingen (Germany) camps, 279–84 directors general (UNRRA), 5–6; as American, 48–9; authority of, 45–6; directors reporting to, 102; duties, 5; recruitment of UNRRAIDS, 115 Dirksen, Everett M., 70–1 displaced persons, 4–5; in Bavaria, 171–2; conditions of life for, 340, 366; as domestic servants in Canada, 345; employment of, 187, 188; future of, 366; in Germany, 161–95, 249; hard-core, 162; immigration to Canada, 332–41, 343–6; Jewish (see Jewish displaced persons); numbers of, 8; as nurses and nurses’ aides, 257, 269, 271–4; in Pilsen, 168–72; Polish, 185; receipt of assistance in Germany, 378; resettlement of, 185; screening of, 334; sorted by nationality vs. religion, 172–3; suitability as Canadian immigrants, 334; treatment in camps, 8; UN, 58. See also refugees Displaced Persons Division (later

463

Displaced Persons and Repatriation Division) (UNRRA): administrative discord in, 102; Brown in, 146; director of, 102; GeldardBrown and, 133, 142; Hoehler’s plans for, 111; merged into ERO, 141; Welfare Division and, 111, 112, 113, 162, 183 distribution of relief, 6; abuse and corruption allegations on, 62, 70; as equitable, 57; in Poland, 88–90, 92; as political weapon, 96–7; shortage of, 8; U.S. and, 60, 70–1, 94, 97, 323, 328 Dobson, Al, 295, 298–300, 302 Dobson, Hazel, 388 doctors: Chinese, 289; in Greece, 242, 246; nurses’ relations with, 265, 268, 276, 280, 315, 368; Russian, 260. See also medical staff Dodds, Jack, 309, 395 Doherty, Muriel Knox, 275–7 domestic politics: in Canada’s financial negotiations with UNRRA, 80–1; and foreign policy, 53; and immigration policy, 342, 344–5; and international relations, 55; and relief, 8, 362; and repatriation, 362 Dorland, Albert: career of, 293; and FAU relief supplies, 305, 306, 308, 309, 311; on Harrison, 311; and move to Honan, 301; recruitment of Canadians for FAU, 291 Drury, Charles M. (‘Bud’), 87–92, 96, 118, 362–3 Dumbarton Oaks, 363 Dunn, Andrew, 184, 185, 190, 191–2 Dunn, Mary, 263–4, 270–1 Dunnett, Doreen, 382

464 Index East-West relations, 74, 87, 97, 330, 362–3 Eastern Europe: relief in, 328; repatriation to, 210, 215, 338, 349. See also names of individual countries Eastern Europeans, resettlement of, 349 The Economic Consequences of Peace (Keynes), 120 Eden, Anthony, 27, 28 Edmison, John Alexander, 3, 9, 10, 163–5 Egypt: nurses in, 232–9; refugee camps in, 127, 232–9 Eirdan (SS), 149 Eisenhower, Dwight, 163, 164, 173 El Shatt camp (Egypt), 232, 234–6, 238, 239 Emergency Welfare Services (Welfare Division), 123 emigration/immigration: adult-education programs for, 333; and agricultural labour, 332–3; of Baltic peoples, 337, 344–5; of children, 336, 346–50; of concentrationcamp survivors, 340–1; of displaced persons, 185, 332–41, 343–6; economic benefits vs. humanitarian aspects, 334; of Jewish children, 347–9; of Jewish people, 340, 345–6; liberal approach to, 11; morality in, 340–1; nationalities and, 336–7; nursing education and, 273; of Polish people, 339; professions and skills as basis for, 337; of refugees, 5. See also immigration policy employment: gender in, 370 (see also gender equality); for UNRRAIDS, 365; of women, 365

England. See Great Britain English, John, 29, 363–4 enlightened self-interest: of Canada, 32, 33, 39, 43, 94–5, 96; in immigration policy, 342; in international aid, 342; and internationalism, 364; self-help for liberated countries and, 109; UNRRA and, 362 epidemics, 4, 58, 315 Eschweg camp (Germany), 173, 175– 7, 345 ethics: of child welfare, 214, 215; of foreign policy, 343; nursing, 272–3, 369–70; politics and, 367; of welfare work, 367 European Regional Office (ERO), 82; control over field operations, 112, 159, 162; duplication with Washington, 122; and Geldard-Brown, 144; Marsh and, 122; McGeachy and, 114; and Polish repatriation, 152; Schuller and, 114; and training, 413n73; UNRRAIDS serving in, 382–3; Wasson appointed to, 82; welfare and displaced-persons divisions merged into, 141; and Welfare Division, 111 ex-enemy territories: children of, 221; refugees in Palestine, 153; relief to, 52, 58; repatriation of nationals of, 145 Exodus 1947, 419–20n40 exports: during Second World War, 36; to Soviet Union, 97; and UNRRA’s needs, 95; wheat, 78–82, 94, 95 External Trade Advisory Committee (Canada), 79 Fallingbostel (Germany), 353

Index famine. See food crises farmers: Canadian participation in UNRRA and, 37–8; and cattle sales, 83–4; and food crisis, 65 Favier, Muriel, 232, 234, 238–9 Ferguson, George, 68–9 field operations, control over, 112, 141, 159, 162 First World War: economic policy following, 18; lessons of, 120; and U.S., 32 Fishbach camp (Germany), 189 Fisher, Allan G.B., 49–50 Fitzrandolph, John, 392 Flannery, James, 188 Foehrenwald camp (Germany), 180, 204–6 food: foreign policy and, 97; kosher, 176–7; in Pilsen, 169, 170; for Poland, 88; as political weapon, 64–5, 328 Food and Agriculture Conference, 363 Food and Agriculture Organization, 364 food crises, 56, 62, 63, 65–7, 68, 96 Food Division (UNRRA), 66, 85, 86, 87, 362 forced-labour camps, 249 foreign policy: domestic politics and, 53; ethics of, 343; and food aid, 97; functional principle and, 24; multilateral approach to, 7, 363; place of U.S. in, 326; UNRRAIDS and, 343 Formosa: civil unrest in, 316–18; epidemics on, 315; hospitals on, 315; medical supplies in, 314, 318; nursing services and education in, 313– 19

465

Formosa Joint Committee (CNRRA), 318 Forsey, Eugene, 119 Foster Parents Plan, 350 France: on Central Committee, 60; women returning to, 198–9 Fransham, Delf, 395 Fraser, William, 201 Friends Ambulance Unit (FAU), 359; in Changte, 304; in China, 319–20; and Chinese, 306; and conscientious objectors, 291; in Honan, 301– 4; in Hwei Min, 303; and medical supplies, 305–13; and UNRRA, 304 Friends Service Committee, 291, 293 Friesen, Olga, 272 functional internationalism, 23 functional principle, 7–8, 23–4, 39, 45, 48, 362, 363 functional representation, 23 Furth (Germany), 179 Gardiner, James, 68 Gauting Sanitorium, 180, 182 Geldard-Brown, Mabel: on Archer, 140; and Athens clearing house for refugees, 134–7; and American colleagues, 129, 130, 131–2, 140; and British military authorities, 133–4; career of, 128, 159–60, 358; on Balkan mission, 127; field work of, 134–9; in Greece, 130–45, 367–8; and immigration policy, 344; and Individual Problems Section, 143– 4; at Maryland Training Centre, 146–7; and medical personnel in Greek civil war, 241; papers of, 126; personality of, 128–9, 133, 139, 144–5, 147, 358, 370; relations with colleagues, 133–4

466 Index gender equality, 9; UNRRA and, 126, 356, 365, 370; women and, 356–9 Geneva Council meeting, 69–74 Genkind, Chaim, 182 Germany: American Zone, 250; British Zone, 250; civilians, 249, 278; displaced persons in, 161–95, 249; hidden children in, 202; Jewish displaced persons in, 162, 173; nursing services in, 249–86, 275–6, 280, 281; unaccompanied children in, 200 Gifford, Selene, 146, 149, 158, 159 Glasenbuch camp (Germany), 178 Gleason, Heather, 263, 265, 388 Glynn Hughes Hospital (Germany). See Belsen Hospital (Germany) Goldberg, Cecelia, 259, 388 Gordon, Donald, 78 Gouzenko, Igor, 330 Graham, Freda, 357–8 Graham, Muriel, 290, 293, 313, 314, 317–18, 319, 320, 355 Granatstein, Jack, 26 Grant, Charity: with Bradford at SHAEF headquarters, Paris, 174–5; career of, 173–4, 358; on Edmison, 165; at Eschweg camp, 175–7; and immigration of Jewish people, 336, 345–6; at Maryland Training Centre, 174; personality of, 358, 370; in Wiesbaden, 175; on work with UNRRA, 372–3 Granville (France), UNRRA staging centre, 118 Graydon, Gordon, 30 Great Britain: and bilateral relief, 327; Blitz in, 108–9; and Canada, 20–1, 42, 47, 74–5, 327, 363; and Canada as chair of Committee on

Supplies, 27; and Canada’s inclusion in Central Committee, 21, 24– 5; Canada’s supply obligations to, 95; civilian defence manpower needs, 116; and civilian relief, 42; control of UNRRA, 362; financial position of, 57; and Inter-Allied Relief Committee on Post-War Requirements, 18; Jewish children sent to, 205; and procurement, 43, 45; and relief for Italy, 58–9; social work in, 107; and tripartite relief, 326; and UNRRA, 6; and U.S. rivalry, 20; voluntary agencies, 103, 108–10, 116–17; White Paper (1939), 150, 155 Great Depression: agriculture during, 38, 65, 67, 79; and future wars, 33; and post-war economic security, 32, 34; and stable monetary system, 33; welfare during, 103, 109 Great Powers, 7; and Committee on Supplies, 46; and UNRRA, 18 Greece: children in, 241, 245–6; civil war, 130–1, 133, 138–9, 239, 241, 246, 366; doctors in, 242, 246; EAM-ELAS (National Liberation Front-National Popular Liberation Army), 130; EDES (Democratic National Army), 130; ELAS (National Popular Liberation Army), 135, 137, 138, 139; government of, 130, 136, 137, 143, 151; and homeless billeting, 134–7; hostages, 135, 137–8; Ministry of Social Welfare, 143, 159; mission, 128–45; Nazi occupation of, 130, 239; nursing in, 239–46, 265; public health, 246; Red Cross, 137, 138;

Index refugee camps in, 239–46; refugees, 135, 137–8, 142; Sephardic Jews in, 150–1 Green, Kathleen, 395 Green, Nita, 390 Green, Richard, 83, 84, 97 Greenstein, Harry, 112, 142 Guadagni, Zate George Michael, 384 Hahn, L., 433n80 Halifax, Viscount, 105 Hall, Noel, 27 Hankow (China), 299 Hantan (China), 307, 308 Hapsburg Repatriation Centre, 190 Harrison, Earl G., 274–5 Harrison, Tilson, 310–11, 313, 356 Hart, Michael, 36 Hartsilver, Rose, 358 Harwood, Mary, 242, 383 Haslam, Fred, 291 Haw Mei Hospital (China), 302 Hayward, Constance, 344 Headquarters (UNRRA): organization chart, 379; UNRRAIDS serving in, 381–2 Health Division (UNRRA), 102, 225– 6 Heilbaam (Germany), 258–9 Heito (Formosa), 316, 317 Henderson, Mary, 232, 233–6, 238, 239, 240, 241–3, 244, 352 Hendrickson, Roy, 110–11 Henshaw, Jean, 196, 202–13, 335, 336, 339–40, 344 Hermanson, Hildur, 290, 315–16 Hiller, Jeanette, 243 Hiltz, Carl, 186–9 Hinder, Eleanor, 61–2 Hobson, J.A., 120

467

Hoehler, Fred, 111, 128, 163, 399n14 Holcombe, Emerson, 137, 145–6, 153 Holland, Marjory, 150 Holmes, C.P., 118 Holmes, David Eric, 391 Holmes, John, 23 Holt, Berna, 334–5, 336–7, 390 Honan (China), 299, 301–4, 306 hospitals: in China, 295–300, 299– 300, 302–3, 304; on Formosa, 315; in Germany, 249; in Greece, 241–3. See also names of individual hospitals hostages, Greek, 135, 137–8 Hotse (China), 311 Howarth, Wilfred, 294, 308, 309, 395 Huei Tien Hospital (China), 299 Hull, Cordell, 26 Hulme, Kathryn, 261, 262 Hwaiking hospital (China), 304 Hwei Min hospital (China), 302–3 Hyndman, Grace, 331–2, 333–4 I.G. Farben Garden City (Germany), 204 Ilsley, J.L., 27, 76–7 immigration. See emigration/immigration immigration policy (Canadian), 331– 41; enlightened self-interest in, 342; liberal approach to, 323, 344, 373; nationalities, selection by, 342; UNRRAIDS and, 341–2, 343–6 imperial preference, 95 Individual Problems Section, 143–4 infants: in Belsen Hospital, 277–8; in Greece, 245–6. See also children infiltrees, 162, 172, 175, 180, 185, 205 Inglis, Margaret May, 265, 388 Inter-Allied Committee on Post-War Planning, 106

468 Index Inter-Allied Relief Committee on Post-War Requirements (LeithRoss Committee), 18, 20, 81, 107 Intergovernmental Committee on Refugees, 5 International Children’s Centre, Prien am Chiemsee (Germany), 206, 207–9, 210, 212 international civil servants, 373; McGeachy as, 105–6; UNRRAIDS as, 92, 115, 116, 120–1 international cooperation, 34; for peace, 364; UNRRA as steppingstone to, 43; UNRRAIDS and, 365 International Council of Nurses (ICN), 229–30 International Emergency Food Council, 66 International Migration Service (IMS), 128 international organizations: Canadian participation in, 35; fourpower executive model, 26, 28; increasing visibility of, 373; internal dynamics of, 374; quandaries of, 373–4; unilateral charity and, 120 International Peace Maternity Hospital (China), 356 International Refugee Organization (IRO): E. Brown and, 157, 349–50; immigration policies and, 343; M.N. Kilpatrick and, 217; nursing services and, 250, 269; as replacement for Intergovernmental Committee on Refugees, 5; as successor to UNRRA, 5, 161, 184 International Sanitary Conventions, 225 International Wheat Agreement, 80

International Wheat Council, 81 internationalism: and functional principle, 23; and post-war relief, 329; and relief, 324; self-interest and, 364; of UNRRA, 126 isolationism, 32–3, 74 Israel, state of, 348 Italy: children’s services in, 218–19; nurses in, 245, 246; public-health services, 219; relief to, 52, 58–9 Jackson, Hugh R., 19, 110, 112, 201 Jackson, Robert G.A., 133 Jerusalem: bombing of King David Hotel, 155; Jewish children and, 205 Jerusalem Office, 126, 148–59, 160, 244, 349, 370 Jessup, Philip C., 48 Jewish Agency, 150, 151, 154, 155 Jewish children, 203, 205, 346, 347–9 Jewish Children’s Home and Aid Society of Western Canada, 348 Jewish displaced persons, 10; in Camp Eschweg, 175–7; in Camp Foehrenwald, 180–2; at Furth, 179; at Gauting Sanatorium, 180, 182; German nurses and, 275–6; in Germany, 162, 274–5; immigration of, 340, 345–6; Orthodoxy and, 175, 176–7; in Palestine, 150–1; at Schloss Langenzell, 178–9; Sephardic Greek, 150–1; sorted by nationality vs. religion, 172–3; treatment by army, 274–5 Johns, Ethel, 227 Johnson, Dorothy, 188 Johnston, Lillian: achievements of, 247–8; career of, 228, 247–8; Creelman and, 253, 267; Reimer and,

Index 313; Udell and, 247–8; visit to Canada, 230; visits to nurses, 244–5, 246 Joint Relief Committee (JRC), 133 Jones, Leila, 214 Kala Azar, 301, 302–3 Karlov camp (Czechoslovakia), 170 Keenan, Thomas, 192–3, 194, 331–4, 340–1 Keith, Gordon, 292 Keynes, John Maynard. The Economic Consequences of Peace, 120 Keynesian economics, 36 kibbutz groups, 204, 205, 206 Kidston, Richard, 51 Kilpatrick, Heather, 232, 233, 234, 239–41, 244, 352 Kilpatrick, Margaret Newton, 196, 203, 213–18, 335, 337 King, Mackenzie: and Atlantic City I Council Meeting, 44; and Atlantic City II Council meeting, 68, 69; and Canada as chair of Committee on Supplies, 27; and Canada on Central Committee, 22, 25, 26; and farmers, 38; food-conservation program, 65; and international aid, 325, 326; and international relations vs. domestic politics, 55; and Lehman’s attempt to recruit Claxton, 29; at Montreal Council meeting, 52–3; and new international commitments, 23–4; and Pearson, 21, 28, 54–5, 69, 363; and post-war internationalism, 24; and post-war relief, 328–9; and public reaction to financial commitment to UNRRA, 76; Robertson and, 24; on UNRRA management, 68

469

Kinnear, Mary, 104, 105–6, 107, 109, 113, 114, 117 Kiphissia (Greece), children’s orphanage in, 131 Kloster Indersdorf (Germany), 206–8 Kraus, Herta, 147 Kunming (China), 295 Kuomintang Party (KMT), 287, 288, 313, 316–17 Kutsing (China), 292, 295, 299, 306 Kwang Sheng Hospital (China), 304 La Guardia, Fiorello: and Canada’s participation in UNRRA, 92; as director general, 5–6, 62–3; on Drury, 90–1; and food crisis, 65; and horsemeat, 85–6; Lehman on, 63; Pearson and, 69, 72–3; and post-war relief, 329; and repatriation vs. welfare, 183; and United Nations Emergency Food Fund, 326–7; and Welfare Division, 113, 217 Landsutt (Germany) assembly centre, 214 Larima (Greece), 139–40 Lateigne, Philomena, 388 Lauengen hospital (Germany), 280 Lauf D.P. Centre (Germany), 189–92 Lazecko, Jean, 270, 388 League for Social Reconstruction (LSR), 119 League of Nations, 7, 29, 31, 34, 102– 3, 105 Lebanon: Greek refugees in, 148–9; Polish refugees in, 152–3 Leete, Glen, 133 Lehman, Herbert: and Atlantic City I Council Meeting, 45; and Balkan mission, 125; on Canadian meat

470 Index supplies, 93; and Claxton, 29; on criticism in press, 56–7; as director general, 5, 19–20; on financial requirements, 56; and horsemeat, 85–6; on La Guardia, 63; and McGeachy, 106, 113; and military relationship with UNRRA, 127; and Mutual Aid Board, 77; and Office of Foreign Relief and Rehabilitation, 19; and Pearson, 54, 63; on procurement, 56; resignation of, 113; and SCAEF Agreement, 162; and UNRRA Agreement, 19; and Welfare Division, 104 Leith-Ross, Sir Frederick: Cairns and, 81; and Inter-Allied Relief Committee on Post-War Requirements, 18; and McGeachy, 106, 108, 111, 113, 121, 122, 123, 133; and recruitment in Canada, 118; resignation of, 113; and Robertson, 22; visit to Ottawa, 21–2 Leith-Ross Committee. See InterAllied Relief Committee on PostWar Requirements (Leith-Ross Committee) Levadia (Greece), 137, 138 Liaison Committee of Women’s International Organizations, 105 liberated countries: Canada’s interest in recovery of, 6–7; nursing education in, 226; reconstruction of, 6; requirements for relief and rehabilitation, 56; restoration of health services in, 196–7; restoration of nursing services in, 234–5; selfhelp for, 109 Lieberman, Celina, 346–7 Lightall, William, 166, 168, 192, 331, 333, 344–5

Lismer, Lawrence J., 118, 381–2 Lithuanian people: camps, 283; displaced persons, 279; Jews, 182 Litvinov, Maxim, 25 Liuchow (China), 296–8, 299 London Council meeting, 55–62 London Missionary Society, 299 Lowe, Mr, 148 Lübeck (Germany): Belsen survivors in, 166–8; Keenan at, 192, 332, 333; Latvian hospital, 270–1; Lightall at, 333; N. Mackenzie in, 266; nursing in, 266 Lutack, Anna, 203, 212, 390 MacFarlane, David, 87 Mackay, Ian, 331, 338–9 Mackenzie, Hugh Alexander, 392–3 Mackenzie, Norena, 353; career of, 266; field promotion, 285; in London with Creelman, 254; in Lübeck, 266; in nursing education, 270; training of Greek nurses, 244 MacLachlan, Glenvell Lawrence, 384 MacNeil, C., 387 Madden, Norah W., 259–60, 388 Maines, Joy, 117, 337–8 malaria, 246, 300, 303 Manchuria, 287 Mannheim Displaced Persons Hospital, 284–5 markets: agricultural, 38; demand, 34; grain, 79; new, 36, 37, 45, 78, 81; traditional, 95, 362; for wheat, 95 Marsh, Leonard, 118, 119, 122, 198, 200, 350–1 Marshall, George, 287, 308 Martin, Paul, Sr, 327, 328, 329, 331 Maryland training centre, 118, 146–7, 174, 294

Index Massey, Vincent, 22, 174 Master, Oliver, 79 maternal and child care/welfare, 202; cultural differences in, 264, 278; in Greece, 245–6; Struthers’s work in, 218–20, 245–6; surveys of, 197; UNRRA welfare studies on, 196. See also child welfare Matthews, Sir William, 127 McArthur, Russell, 395–6 McCarthy, Leighton, 50 McClure, Bob: building of Tengchung Hospital, 296; career of, 291–2, 293; end of career in China, 304; and FAU concentration in Honan, 301; recruitment of Canadians for FAU, 291; and training of laboratory technicians, 299; at Wei Tien Hospital, 295 McConkey, Oswald Murray, 393 McCreary, Dr, 387 McGeachy, Mary Craig: absences of, 111–12; as administrator, 111–12, 113–14, 370; biography of, 12; career of, 104–5, 106; and CNA Committee on Post-War Planning for Assistance Abroad, 228; criticism of, 107, 109–10, 112–13; as director of Welfare Division, 102; and Emergency Welfare Services, 123; and Hoehler, 128; on illegitimacy, 199, 200; on ‘information vacuum,’ 122; as international civil servant, 105–6; and international problems, 105; in League of Nations, 105; Lehman and, 106, 113; and Leith-Ross, 106, 108, 111, 113, 121, 122, 123, 133; as liaison officer with voluntary agencies, 113; and Pedley, 201; personality

471

of, 104, 105–6, 113–14; and postwar planning, 106, 122; and recruitment of staff, 116–17; removal of, 183; Schuller and, 111, 114–15; and training of UNRRAIDS, 119, 121; travels to Canada, 117; and U.S. vs. British approaches to social work, 107, 110; and Welfare Division, 106–15; on women’s needs, 197 McIvor, George, 79 McMurtry, Douglas, 396 McNamara, Arthur, 292 McNamara, Mr (deputy minister of labour), 332–3 McNash, James, 84 McPherson, Kathryn, 229 McQuarrie, Frances, 384–5, 427–8n64 McTaggart, M.J., 93 meat: from Canada, 93; rationing, 66, 78, 96 Meat Board, 86, 93 Medical Division (UNRRA), budget cut in, 289 medical staff: Dutch, 254; and medical and sanitation services, 257–8; and nurses, 267. See also doctors medical supplies: in China, 288–9, 300, 305–13, 320; in Egypt, 237, 238; FAU’s transportation of, 305– 13; in Formosa, 314, 318; in Germany, 258, 261, 270; in Italy, 245; in Middle East, 246 Meiklejohn, Alexander P., 218 Melin, Nils, 166–8 member governments, financial contributions by, 44–5, 56–7, 58, 60 Menshikov, Mikhail, 89–90, 113 Middle East: refugees in, 127, 145–6. See also Balkan mission

472 Index Middle East Office, 141 Middle East Relief and Refugee Administration (MERRA), 110, 127, 140, 141, 150, 154, 231 Milburn, F.W., 421n63 military authorities: and children, 206, 209–12, 221; and civilian relief, 6, 42; and civilian relief vs. winning war, 125; and concentrationcamp survivors (reaction by German officers), 167–8; dependence on, 101; and food consumption in occupied territories, 64; and food distribution in Athens, 133–4; in Middle East, 158–9 military/UNRRA relationship: in Balkan mission, 127; in Greece, 132–3, 140; and mobilization of first teams, 164–5; negotiations, 5, 6; in relocation of refugees and displaced persons, 4–5; requisitioning of supplies, 72; rights of, 63; UNRRAIDS and, 97, 179, 190 Milne, Graham, 297, 298 Milus, Stanislaus B., 192 Ministry of Health (U.K.), 225–6 Minton, Eunice, 140 Mittermayer, Karl, 208 Mjolsness, Verdine, 396 Mobilization and Training Centre (Granville, France), 163, 165 Mobilization Base in France, 250 monetary system, 33 Montreal Council meeting, 51–5 Montreal Group for the Security of the People’s Health, 252 Mooney, George, 113, 118, 340, 361 Mountbatten, Lord Louis, 310 Mulroney, Brian, 356 multilateralism: of aid, 76–7, 325–6,

331; Cold War and, 73–4; Council meetings and, 41; foreign policy based on, 363; and international aid, 364; and UNRRA, 95, 96; U.S. and, 326 Munich (Germany), Deutsches Museum, 171–2 Munk, Frank, 413n73 Murdock, James, 338 Murphy, Helen, 272, 285 mutual aid, 53 Mutual Aid Board (Canada), 77, 78, 94, 96 Nantan hospital (China), 299 national liaison officers, 200, 209 National University Medical College (Formosa), 316 nationalism: co-operative, 34–5; economic, 31; and functional principle, 23; post-war, 372 Nationalist Party (China). See Kuomintang Party (KMT) nationalities: and immigration, 336– 7; of patients, 272–3 Nazi collaborators. See collaborators Nesbitt, Matthew, 166 non-governmental organizations. See international organizations nurses’ aides, 226, 265, 268; German, 281; in Greece, 240; Polish, 273; Russian, 260; training of, 234–5, 269, 271; Yugoslav, 235, 237, 238 nurses and nursing, 368–70; in American Zone, 254, 256, 266, 267; British, 228, 231; in British Zone, 254, 256, 266, 267; camaraderie within, 279; in China, 245, 292, 303, 319–20; Chinese, 289; in cholera hospitals, 297; and civilian popula-

Index tion, 278; Cold War and, 226; of concentration-camp survivors, 275; coping mechanisms, 284; cultural aspects, 237, 256–7, 272–3, 286, 290; diaries, 279; displaced persons as, 257, 269, 271–4; doctors’ relations with, 265, 276, 280, 315; education, 228, 229, 245, 352– 3, 369; in Egypt, 232–9; employment upon return home, 235; ethics, 272–3, 369–70; Europeantrained vs. Canadian-trained, 285; in Formosa, 313–19; Formosan, 314–15; gender issues and, 358–9; German, conflict over use of, 249, 275–6, 280, 281; in Germany, 249– 86; in Greece, 239–46, 265; Greek, 242–4; historiography, 13; international, 13, 316, 369–70; in Italy, 245, 246; letters, 279; and military medical personnel, 258; morale of, 245, 262, 264, 268; nationalities in, 272– 3, 278; and North American standards, 271; in Palestine, 232; patients’ trust in, 274; political nature of provision, 226; politics and, 252–3; professional accreditation, 13; professional identity, 368– 9; public-health, 228–9; qualifications, 285; qualities of, 227–8, 247, 284, 285; rank of, 231; recruitment of, 226–31; relationships among, 272, 278–9; restoration in liberated countries, 234–5; salaries, 227, 230, 369, 375–6; shortages of, 238, 249; socioeconomic status of, 229; standards, 354–5, 369; status, 267–9; supervisors, 262–6; team, 257, 263; transferred to IRO, 250; uniforms, 231; UNRRAIDS and, 352–6; U.S.,

473

230, 231, 245; and welfare work, 266; in WHO, 354–6 Nurses Association of China, 313 Nursing Division, 226, 253, 370 nursing education, 286; in American Zone, 269, 271–2; in British Zone, 269–70; in China, 303; in Formosa, 314–15, 316; in liberated countries, 226 Nuseirat camp (Egypt), 148–9, 232, 234 Ocean Shipping Division (UNRRA), 93 Odlum, Victor, 61, 301 O’Hara, William, 331 Ontario Nurses Act (1961), 353 Operation Beaver, 334, 341 Operation Carrot, 185, 186 Operation Grubstake, 185 Operation Horsemeat, 85–7 Oreshkin, Lieutenant-Colonel, 210 Osborne, Edna, 263, 285, 353–4 Ostry, Ethel, 10, 177–82, 336, 347–9, 350, 358, 370 Outhouse, Stanley, 396 Page, Irene, 336, 337, 344, 390 Palestine: Austrian refugees in, 153– 4; Greek refugees in, 149–51; immigration of Jewish children to, 203, 348; Jewish homeland in, 172, 180; nurses in, 232; Polish refugees in, 151–3, 156; refugee camps in, 127, 232; underground railway for illegal immigrants to, 172; Zionism in, 180 Pangratti (Greece), children’s orphanage in, 132 Papandreou, George, 130

474 Index parents: adoptive/foster, 203, 208, 213; children reunited with, 203, 209, 215, 220, 350; of lost children, 203, 212 Pasing (Germany), 171, 173 Patry, Gabrielle M., 335–6, 390 peace: activism, 353–4; economic conditions and, 119–20; food as weapon of, 64; international cooperation for, 364; Pearson on, 57; public opinion on Canada’s role in, 33–4 Pearl, Frances, 263 Pearl, F.S., 388 Pearsall, Luke, 93 Pearson, Lester (‘Mike’): and Acheson, 28; as ambassador to U.S., 34–5, 73; at Atlantic City I Council meeting, 42, 44, 47, 50; and Atlantic City II Council meeting, 63, 64, 65–6, 68–9; biography of, 12; and Canada as chair of Committee on Supplies, 27; and Canada on Central Committee, 26, 27, 59; and Canada’s role in UNRRA, 21, 363–4; and Canadians in Bureau of Supply, 91–2; and Canadians in key UNRRA posts, 118, 362; and Committee on Supplies, 28–9, 43, 47, 49, 60, 61, 87, 363; at Council meetings, 41; and Eastern European receiving countries, 8; on famine in Europe, 57, 65–6, 68; and Food and Agriculture Organization, 364; on food as weapon of peace, 64; and functional principle, 24; at Geneva Council meeting, 69–70, 71–4; and Grant, 174; Hinder on, 61–2; influence of UNRRA on career, 363–4,

374; on international collaboration and UNRRA, 43; King and, 21, 28, 54–5; and La Guardia, 63, 69, 72–3; and League of Nations, 29; on Lehman, 63; at London Council meeting, 60–2; and Montreal Council meeting, 51–5; on peace, 57; on Poland, 73; and post-UNRRA relief, 323, 324–6, 328–9, 331; and recruitment of nurses, 228; on sovereign equality of nations, 34–5; as under-secretary of state for external affairs, 73; on UNRRA, 361; on UNRRA’s demise, 68–9; and U.S.– Soviet relations, 63–4; and war surpluses, 82; and wheat earmarking, 79–80, 81–2 Pedley, Frank, 197, 200–2 Pennington, Marian Miles, 388–9 Perkins, Mary, 358 Petah Tikvah, 154 Pete, Victoria, 258–9 Petersen, Christian A., 382 Petrie, Elizabeth, 261, 389 Pettiss, Susan, 174, 217 Petty, Henry A., 393 Petty, Jane, 389 Philips, Daphne P., 344, 382–3 physicians. See doctors Pierce, Clarence M., 147–8 Pierce, Ralph, 191 Pilsen (Czechoslovakia), 168–72 Pingtung, 314 Poland: attacks against Jews in, 172; child welfare in, 219; and Communism, 92; conditions in, 88; distribution of supplies in, 92; establishment of mission, 87, 88, 91–2; forced repatriation to, 209; Pearson in, 73; refugees in Middle

Index East, 145; repatriation to, 151–3, 183, 185, 192–3, 264, 273, 349–50; as sovereign nation, 91; Soviet Union and, 89–90; surplus army trucks to, 83; UNRRA deliveries in, 88–90 Polish people, 185; children, 208–9, 210; immigration of, 339; in Lebanon, 152–3; nurses’ aides, 273; in Palestine, 151–3, 256; as refugees, 145, 151–3, 156; repatriation of, 152, 208–9 post-war planning, 35; McGeachy and, 106 poverty: and communism, 324; and public-health issues, 354; socioeconomic causes of, 120, 354 power politics: foreign aid and, 92; and right to choose country of domicile, 350 Powers, Walter Thomas, 393 prices: of Canadian supplies, 94; stabilization of, 38 Pringle, James, 384 prisoners-of-war, 169 procurement, 6; Anglo-American control of, 43, 45; bottlenecks in, 84; and Canada’s program, 76; Canadian, 55, 77–8, 83–4, 93–6; and Canadians in key UNRRA posts, 362; for civilian relief, 43; fish, 95, 409n55; horsemeat, 85–7; and member governments’ lack of support, 56–7; policies, 78; problems of, 57, 83–5; and receiving countries, 49 Procurement Section (UNRRA), 83 Promislow, Sam, 347 propaganda, 194–5 public health: assembly centres and, 264; in China, 289; in Greece, 246;

475

nurses, 227, 228–9; poverty and, 354; restoration of, 196–7; during Second World War, 225; UNRRA’s efforts to improve, 218–19 public opinion: on Canada’s contribution to UNRRA, 76–7; on Canada’s role in world peace, 33–4; on Canada in inter-allied bodies, 26; on relief, 54–5; on UNRRA, 29–30, 51, 83; in United States, 90 Pumple, Eileen, 335, 337, 386 Quakers, 291 Ralston, J.L., 22 Rankin, Lillian, 263, 389 Raper, Cheale E., 382 rationing, 362; in Canada, 66, 78; meat, 96; in Poland, 88 receiving countries: procurement and protection of interests, 49; and supplier nations, 8, 43, 49; UNRRA aid to, 4; and U.S. discrimination, 94, 97 Red Cross: British, 295, 309; Canadian, 293, 295; Greek, 137, 138; International, 135; Polish, 209; U.S., 103 refugees: Austrian, 153–4; Balkan, 127; Baltic, 189; in China, 298, 301, 302; condition of, 10; emigration of, 5; Greek, 135, 137–8, 142, 148– 51; increase in numbers, 185, 372; Jewish, 162; in Middle East, 127, 145–6; and negative stereotyping, 345; Polish, 145, 151–3, 156; repatriation of, 4–5; screening of, 185–6, 188; support of, 4–5; UN programs, 41. See also displaced persons

476 Index Regensburg (Germany), Team 120 at, 186–8 Registered Nurses Association of Ontario, 353 rehabilitation: approach to relief work, 201; Canadian consensus on, 30; economic, 17; functional principle and, 45; nursing education and, 269–74; purpose of, 53; repatriation vs., 63, 113, 183, 186, 188; short-term, 42, 48; size of requirements, 56; of travailleuses, 199; welfare and, 103–4 Reimer, Helena, 355; in Egypt, 232, 236–8, 239, 313–14; in Formosa, 290, 293, 313–16, 317–18, 319, 320 relief: based on financial need, 325; bilateral basis for, 70, 71; Canada’s contribution to, 22; Canadian consensus on, 30; Canadian per-capita level of, 76; as charity, 324; Churchill’s pledge of, 17; contracts, 42–3; to countries unable to pay, 42; and democratic regimes, 324; distribution (see distribution of relief); East-West rift and, 323; in Eastern Europe, 328; as economic weapon, 17–18; enlightened selfinterest in, 342; to ex-enemy territories, 52, 58; and federal-provincial relations, 327; functional principle and, 45; Great Power politics and, 46; idealism toward, 372; internationalism and, 61, 324, 329; to Italy, 58–9; multilateral approach to, 364; politics and, 8, 42, 89, 92, 324, 325, 362; postUNRRA, 73–4, 323–31; prior consent of national governments, 59;

procurement (see procurement); public opinion on, 54–5; purpose of, 53; rehabilitation-based approach to, 201; repatriation and, 8, 59; and self-help, 120; short- vs. long-term, 6; short-term, 42, 48; size of requirements, 56; to Soviet Union, 324; termination of, 57; tripartite, 325–6; and UN General Assembly, 71; U.S. and, 18–19, 328–9, 330–1 repatriation, 4–5; of Austrian refugees, 153–4; of Baltic people, 211– 12; of children, 197, 203, 207, 210– 11, 216; domestic politics and, 362; to Eastern Europe, 210, 215, 338, 349; encouragement of, 59, 183, 185, 190, 191, 282; figures, 367; forced, 72, 209–10, 211, 338; of Greek refugees, 148–51; of hardcore displaced persons, 162; Individual Problems Section (Greece), 143; lack of policy regarding, 366; levels of, 185; of Middle East refugees, 142, 145–6; national liaison officers and, 209; and nursing education, 272; obstacles to, 5, 8, 59, 62, 67–8, 74, 183; from Pilsen, 170; to Poland, 151–3, 183, 192–3, 264, 273, 349–50; of Polish children, 208–9; politics around, 367; propaganda and, 194–5; of refugees, 4–5; rehabilitation vs., 63, 113, 183, 186, 188; self-help through, 120; to Soviet Union, 8, 62; of travailleuses, 197–202; of women to France, 198– 9; to Yugoslavia, 8, 237 resettlement: of children, 203, 207; of displaced persons, 185; of Eastern Europeans, 349; national liaison

Index officers and, 209; of Roman Catholic children, 349–50 Rhinewine, Sarah, 336, 386 Riddell, R.G., 324 Roberts, Beatrice, 278–84, 352 Robertson, Norman, 81; on Atlantic City I Council Meeting, 50; and Canada on Central Committee, 22, 25, 26; and international commitments, 23–4; and Pearson at Montreal Council Meeting, 54; and UNRRA in Poland, 92 Roebuck, Arthur, 337, 339 Rogers, William (Bill), 168–72, 371, 372 Rooks, Lowell, 6, 85, 333–4 Roosevelt, Franklin, 5–6, 19, 20 Royal Canadian Air Force (RCAF), 259–60 Royal Canadian Engineers, 260 Royal University Hospital (Saskatoon), Social Services Department, 353 Rundall, McGill Lewis, 393 Rutherford, Libbie: career of, 250, 252; on concentration-camp survivors, 274; instructing nurses’ aides course, 270–1; in Latvian hospital at Lübeck, 270–1; letters to, 258; and social justice, 353–4; Vanderwell and, 260, 277, 279, 285; Williams and, 261 Sabine, Catherine, 336 salaries: of American welfare workers, 130; in China mission, 441n32; differentials among UNRRA workers, 230; of Geldard-Brown, 130, 144, 145; of Greek nurses, 243; of nurses, 227, 230, 369, 375–6;

477

UNRRA, 375–6; in UNRRA classification system, 268; of women, 357–8, 371, 375–6 Sandwell, B.K., 332, 333 Saskatchewan Association of Social Workers (SASW), 353 Sawyer, W.A., 247 Sayre, Francis B., 4 SCAEF Agreement, 163 Schloss Langenzelle (Germany), 178, 259 Schuller, Erwin, 111, 114–15 Scobie, Ronald, 130, 134 Scott, Frank, 119 screening: of children, 209; of displaced persons, 334; of refugees, 185–6, 188; for relief eligibility, 180–1 Second World War: agriculture during, 38; causes of outbreak, 18, 31; League of Nations and outbreak of, 7; public health during, 225 Selby, Harriet, 335, 390 self-interest. See enlightened selfinterest Seymour, Elizabeth, 383 Shackleton, Allan J., 317–18 Shanghai (China), 305 Sheppard, Colonel, 139 Shertok, Moshe, 151 shipping, 93–4; Anglo-American control over, 45 Shipping Division (UNRRA), 362 Shr Li Tou, 302 Shu, General, 307–8 Sixty-Day Ration Scheme, 185 smaller nations: Canada and other, 49–50; Great Powers and, 7, 48; and Montreal Council meeting,

478 Index 53–4; power politics and, 48–9; treatment of, 43 Smith, Arnold, 324 Smith, Mevrette, 139–40 social engineering, 351 social justice, UNRRAIDS and, 353–4 social policy, UNRRAIDS and, 343, 351 social work: British perspective, 107; case approach to, 367; education, 350–1, 353; European perspective, 367; North American perspective, 120, 367; as a profession, 103–4; and roots of social problems, 119; UNRRAIDS and, 350–1 sovereign equality of nations, 34–5 Soviet Union: British relations with, 18; and Canada, 330; and Canada on Central Committee, 21, 24–5; and Canadian earmarking of wheat, 80; export contracts and, 97; financial position of, 57; forced repatriation to, 209–10; and InterAllied Relief Committee on PostWar Requirements, 18; and international cooperation, 70–1; occupation of Manchuria, 287; and Poland, 89–90; and Polish mission, 87; relief needs, 56, 57–8, 324; repatriation to, 8, 62; requisition of land in Austria, 63–4; teachers in American Zone, 210; and UN Emergency Food Fund, 326–7; and the United States, 58, 62, 63–4, 70– 1, 330, 331 Special Technical Committee (UN), 328–9 Spohn, Patricia Edith Jane, 383 St James’s Palace meeting, 18 St John, Claire, 386–7

St Laurent, Louis, 324, 325, 326, 327 Stacey, Charles, 146 Starr, Francis, 306–8, 311–12 Stein, Charles, 118, 383 Steinhouse, Herbert, 386 Stokes, Charles S., 144–5 Struthers, Robert Rolf, 197, 218–20, 245–6, 253 Stuart, John Leighton, 308, 317 Student Christian Movement (SCM), 104 Stuttgart (Germany), 178–9, 420n41 Subcommittee on the Problems of Women and Girls (UNRRA), 198 Sun Yat Sen, Mme, 293 supplier nations: Canada as, 7, 47, 48, 60, 74; comparative contributions, 377; and receiving countries, 8, 43, 49 supplies: amount shipped, 62; amount UNRRA spent in Canada, 76; equitable distribution of, 57; free funds for, 95; military requisitioning of, 72; range of, 76; shortages of, 8 Supreme Headquarters Allied Expeditionary Force (SHAEF), 3, 9, 107, 174, 201; UNRRA operating under, 161–2 surpluses: agricultural, 79, 81; war, 82–3 Sweden, resettlement of Belsen concentration-camp survivors in, 166– 8 Syria, refugee camps in, 127 Taipei (Formosa), 316–17 Taylor, Madeline: in American Zone, 262, 266; in Bamberg, 266–7; at Bischofsgrun Sanatorium, 257–8;

Index career of, 250, 251–2; on European nurses, 285; field promotion, 285; and nursing instruction in American Zone, 271–2; and rehabilitative effects of nursing education, 273; as role model, 269; salary of, 269; and status of nurses, 268; as supervisory nurse, 266–7 Tengchung Hospital (China), 296, 299, 302 Tevlin, Murray, 35 Tito, President, 147, 370 Tolumbat (Egypt), 232–3, 236–8, 239, 313 Tombs, Guy, 94 Tomkinson, Grace, 12–13, 40 trade: Canadian participation in, 36; economic rehabilitation and, 17; liberalization, 33, 36; multilateral, 7, 17, 36. See also exports; markets training: and field experience, 121; of laboratory technicians, 299; lack of coordination in, 121; of nurses’ aides (see under nurses’ aides); standards, 121, 367; in U.K., 118; of UNRRAIDS, 102, 115, 117, 118, 123; by voluntary agencies, 117 transportation, 399n14; of children, 209, 210, 213; in China, 290, 293, 305, 312; in China Convoy, 294, 295, 306, 310, 311; dependence on military for, 101, 127, 164, 165, 177; difficulties with UNRRA trucks, 83; in Eastern Europe, 83; in Greece, 240; and nursing, 257, 262, 266, 268, 279; of refugees, 138, 149, 158; repatriation and, 159, 172, 185; shortage of, 125, 161; of UNRRAIDS, 121. See also shipping

479

travailleuses, 198–9; repatriation of, 197–202 Troop, Eileen, 383 Truman, Harry, 57, 63, 173, 287 tuberculosis, 180, 236, 246, 264, 279 Udell, Florence: career of, 247–8; and Creelman, 253, 267, 285; on nursing in Middle East, 243; and status of nurses, 268; visits to nurses, 244–5, 246 Ukraine, the, agriculture in, 359 Ukrainians: children, 210; immigration of, 334 unemployment: during Great Depression, 34; UNRRA purchases and, 46 UNESCO. See United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization UNICEF. See United Nations International Children’s Emergency Fund (UNICEF) Union Hospital (China), 299 United Kingdom. See Great Britain United Nations: aid programs, 41; Canada in, 374; Charter, 194; Conference on Food and Agriculture, 35; Declaration, 4; displaced persons, 58; founding of, 4, 60; multilateralism and, 96; refugee programs, 41; Woodbridge’s history and, 11 United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO), 350, 351, 359 United Nations Emergency Food Fund, 326 United Nations General Assembly:

480 Index and post-UNRRA relief, 71, 323; and post-war relief, 325, 327 United Nations International Children’s Emergency Fund (UNICEF), 221 United Nations Organization Refugee Committee conference, 144 United States: and aid to Eastern Europe, 64, 331; anti-communism in, 71, 330; and Baltic children, 211; and bilateral relief, 325, 327–8; and Canada, 32–3, 42, 59, 61, 74–5, 325– 6, 327, 363; and Canada on Central Committee, 21, 25; Canadian postwar foreign policy and, 326; and child repatriation behind Iron Curtain, 210; on civilian relief, 42; and Commonwealth, 49; control over UNRRA, 362; criticism of UNRRA, 61, 70, 328; and distribution of relief, 60, 70–1, 94, 97, 323; dominant role in relief efforts, 19–20; economic policy, 18; financial support of UNRRA, 45, 52, 325; and First World War, 18, 32, 34; foreign policy, 18–19, 330; and four-power executive for UNRRA, 20–1; as importer of food, 96; and InterAllied Relief Committee on PostWar Requirements, 19; isolationism of, 74; and multilateralism, 326; Office of Foreign Relief and Rehabilitation, 19, 228; and Pacific war, 56; and post-UNRRA relief, 328–9; post-war relief arrangements, 18–19; and procurement, 43, 45; public opinion on international relief, 70, 330–1; public opinion on UNRRA, 52, 90; and relief for Italy, 52, 58–9; rivalry with Brit-

ain, 20; and the Soviet Union, 58, 62, 63–4, 64, 70–1, 330, 331; State Department, 18–19; and tripartite relief, 326; and UNRRA, 6; and UNRRA Agreement, 19, 21–2, 29; and UNRRA as supply operation, 29; UNRRAIDS from, 115; voluntary agencies, 103, 116–17; welfare in, 109; wheat and, 79 UNRRA: administrative structure, 10, 50–1, 102–3, 106–7, 127, 330; Agreement, 4, 5, 42; Anglo-American control over, 362; antecedents of, 18; authority of, 6; Canada’s participation in, 92–7, 374, 377; Canadian Council of Voluntary Societies and, 117; control by Britain, 362; criticisms of, 62, 70, 125; financial backing, 58; financial limitations and restrictions, 52, 86; financial needs increase, 56–7; future of, 69; gender in employment, 370; and governments of countries, 6; liquidation of administration, 72; literature on, 12–13; mandate and purposes of, 4–5, 6, 119–20; military and, 97; oath of loyalty to, 116; operations directives, 10, 50–1, 102, 108, 221, 365; Pearson and, 361, 363–4; policies, 10, 50–1, 52; political motivations, 58, 69–70; possible failure of, 43, 51; in post-cessation of hostilities period, 17–18; power struggles within, 106; reorganizations within, 102; scale of operations, 4; scope of, 6, 48, 51, 102; significance of, 3; successor organizations to, 6, 62; as supply organization, 103, 201; as temporary operation, 42;

Index termination of, 62, 68–9, 71, 330; U.S. financial support and, 52; voluntary agencies’ opinion of, 107; winding down of operations, 6, 74, 162, 183–4, 185, 188, 213 UNRRA University at Deutsches Museum, 171–2 UNRRAIDS, 9, 93; American, 131–2; animosities among, 128; biographical profiles, 381–96; Canadian, 96; and Canadian immigration policy, 331–46; classification of, 115–16; dependence upon, 10–11; diaries and letters of, 371; in ERO, 382–3; ethnic divisions among, 115–16; in European Region Liaison Missions, 391–6; in European Relief Mission, 383–91; field manuals for, 122; and foreign policy, 343; impact of service on, 343; as international civil servants, 92, 115, 116, 120–1; international composition of teams, 97; and international cooperation, 365; literature on, 12– 13; and nursing, 352–6; ongoing activism of, 372–3; orientation for, 116, 118; as peace activists, 353–4; recruitment of, 102, 113, 115–23, 193–5; remuneration levels, 115– 16; reorganizations and, 102; and social policy, 343, 351; and social work, 350–1; survival strategies, 365–6; and switch from rehabilitation to repatriation, 63; training of, 102, 115, 118, 121, 123; in windingdown of UNRRA, 74; women as, 356–9; working conditions, 365–6 U.S. Public Health Service (USPHS), 225, 228 USSR. See Soviet Union

481

Van Ark, William, 339 Van Gelder, H.P., 382 Van Hyde, H., 157 Vanderwell, Janet, 260–1, 275, 276, 277, 279, 285 Versailles Treaty, 39 Villa, Francisco ‘Pancho,’ 310 voluntary agencies, 106–7, 304, 365; autonomy of, 109–10; British, 103, 108–9, 116–17; McGeachy as liaison officer with, 113; and recruitment, 117; and staff training, 117; U.S., 103, 116–17 Waddington, T.T., 148 Wade, Mary, 389 Wahlberg, Edgar M. (‘Wally’), 134, 138 war criminals, 67 War Measures Act, 94 War Orphans Project, 346, 347–9 Warmski, Beatrice Roberts. See Roberts, Beatrice Warmski, Mietek, 282–3, 284 wars: depressions and, 33; UNRRA as deterrent to, 30 Warsaw Office (UNRRA), 350 Wartime Prices and Trade Board, 86 Wasson, Elgin, 82 Watt, Jean, 242, 263, 265, 353 Wehwei (China), 302–3 Wei Tien Hospital (China), 292, 295–8 Weiblingen (Germany), 259 welfare: approach to, 103; Blitz and, 108–9; during Great Depression, 103; and rehabilitation, 103–4; repatriation vs., 183, 184; resistance movement and, 108; and self-help, 103, 109; and social prob-

482 Index lems, 104; U.S. view of, 109. See also relief Welfare Division (UNRRA), 102–3; abolition of, 112; administrative discord in, 102; approach to welfare, 103; in Balkan mission, 127–8; Emergency Welfare Services, 123; establishment of, 104; La Guardia and, 113; McGeachy and, 102, 106– 15, 116; merged into ERO, 141; merged with Displaced Persons and Repatriation Division, 112, 113, 162, 183; series of studies, 122; on special needs of women, 122; standards of, 116; as ‘virgin territory,’ 102–3 welfare work: ethics of, 367; nursing and, 266 wheat, 78–82, 94, 95 Whipps, Hugh, 93–4 White, Colonel, 142 Wiesbaden (Germany), 175, 215–17 Wildflecken (Germany), 261–2 Williams, Fred Murdo, 393–4 Williams, Jean, 261–2 Wilson, Cairine, 332, 337, 340 Wilson, C.F., 35 Wodlinger, David, 161, 171, 390–1 women: employment opportunities, 9, 106, 356–9, 365, 370–1; gender culture and, 356–9; salaries, 357–8, 371; in UNRRA, 370; as UNRRAIDS, 126, 356–9; Welfare Division study on needs of, 122. See also travailleuses

Wood, William J., 394 Woodbridge, George, 12, 13, 77 Woodside, Wilson, 332 World Health Expert Committee on Nursing, 353 World Health Organization (WHO), 225, 273; Nursing Division, 354, 355–6, 369; nursing service in Formosa, 318 Wright, George, 396 Wrong, Hume: and Atlantic City I Council Meeting, 43, 46, 49; and Canada’s inclusion in Central Committee, 25; on Canada’s procurement policies, 78; and functional principle, 24; and post-war relief, 325, 326; and UNRRA in Poland, 92 Yalta Agreement, 8, 367 Yenan (China), 308–9 Yugoslavia: children, 216; food distribution in, 70; mission, 141, 147– 8; paediatric care in, 219; repatriation to, 8 Yungnien, 307–8 Zionism: and children’s futures, 220– 1; E. Brown and, 154, 156, 157, 160; and Greek Jews, 150–1; and Jewish children sent to England, 205; Jewish infiltrees and, 172; and repatriation of Jewish refugees, 154, 180; UNRRA and, 157, 158, 160