It was the Second World War. A million young Canadians were marching off to risk their lives. One of them, David K. Hazzard, was separated from his beloved wife Audrey, but soon found a way to fight the loneliness – with his pen.
He wrote hundreds of letters, beginning each the same way – 'Dear Sweetheart.' They are a riveting account of what he went through.
How did he cope without Audrey and his two young daughters? How did they cope without him? In the weeks ahead, the series Dear Sweetheart will publish new letters daily. In the end, their story is our story.
We tell it as a homage to those who died, the 180,000 veterans who survive, their children, their grandchildren – and Canada's fighting families today.
Our first letter is written just before he ships out ...
Thursday, July 10, 1941
Dear Sweetheart,
I hope that you didn't think I was being too casual in my goodbye to you at the station. But you know how I hate a scene, and I didn't feel any too good myself so I had to say cheerio and run. But really and truly this was the worst yet. It was extremely hard to say anything to you or particularly the youngsters, and I am glad they aren't old enough to realize the uncertainty of this last goodbye.
Before I go any further though, I want you to know that I feel certain that I'll be back with you for a great many more anniversaries. I have left these matters up to our Mutual Friend and have a very definite feeling of assurance in the matter. The only uncertainty I have is the length of time I may be away on this trip. But I will say that the next time I am home should be for good.
The one important thing I want you to know is that I love you with all my heart, and that this love will not alter one bit no matter how long I am away.
I am never really living or feel complete unless you are with me.
Your job now is harder than mine in that you won't have definite knowledge of where I am, but all I want you to do is trust in our Friend that we'll be together again. And your job above all is to look after two young ladies and keep them happy. Please for my sake keep smiling, and above all don't worry.
I am not very good at saying these things on paper, but remember Tennyson's remarks on prayer, and that we believe in them. Above all remember that I love you and will always be thinking of you.
With all my love to you, Anne, Karen and Nanny,
I am always yours, David K
P.S. I love you.
Globe feature writer Erin Anderssen describes how David and Audrey met ...
The love story of David Kilbourn Hazzard and Audrey Flora McPherson began simply, with a walk home from church one evening. They had been rehearsing lines in the old parsonage for a play to be performed by the Young People's Society of Wesley Mimico United, in which, as they laughed about later, Audrey was playing one of David's daughters.
Dark-haired and petite, not yet 18, she barely reached his shoulder. He was five years older, confident and dashing, the third son of six children. His father had been a general yardmaster for the CNR in Brockville, in eastern Ontario.
There were many more walks to the doorstep of her mother's white, clapboard house at 9 Summerhill Rd. in Mimico, now part of Toronto's west end. Eventually, when he asked for a kiss, he received one.
On July 10, 1934, they were married. The village paper capped their wedding announcement with the headline "Popular Mimico Young Couple Wed." Audrey, it was reported, "wore a gown of white crepe with tulle veil arranged with orange blossoms," but it was a small ceremony, with no reception – like most of their circle during the Depression, they were broke. They left for their honeymoon immediately, borrowing a wheezing old Plymouth to drive to a cottage owned by a family member on the St. Lawrence River.
