...And the rest is history

During a ferry ride to Vancouver last week, we wound up talking about our grandfathers' war experiences in the Second World War.  I told a few of my grandfather's, a few of which were actually published in a book (coincidentally, the book was written by a historian who lives in Victoria, even though my grandfather had never been to B.C.).

Anyways, I figured I'd share one here, because it's kind of funny.  And, it's the story of how my grandfather met my grandmother.

So, my grandmother's brother was in North Africa, during his first few weeks of combat.  The british were under intense fire from germans, with shells going off all around them.  And there my great uncle was, hunched down in a foxhole, nervously holding his rifle and peering over the edge.  When were the germans going to attack?

"Hey, there, Mate!" a voice yelled out over the sound of exploding shells.  My great uncle turned and saw a Canadian highlander soldier, in full kilt uniform, come charging up.  The Canadian dived into the foxhole, with more shells exploding around him.

"What the...?" My (british) Great Uncle said - or something to that effect.  I'm making up the exact dialogue, here.  But I imagine my Great Uncle was a bit surprised to see a Canadian in his neck of the woods, during an artillery barrage. 

It got a bit weirder.  "You wouldn't have any salt on ya, would ya, mate?" the Canadian (my grandfather) carried on.

"s-s-salt?" My Great Uncle stammered, as a shell exploded a few dozen yards away.

"Yeah, salt."  The Canadian seemed unfazed by the explosions, cocking his head over the edge and surveying the lines.  "We caught ourselves a rabbit, and we're cooking it up.  And we have no salt.  Hoping you guys might be neighbourly... if you have some salt, we'd share with you..."

"Share?  We're about to attacked by the bloody nazis, any minute now!"

The Canadian laughed.  "Nah, mate.  They're shelling us right now.  They'll do that for an hour or so, stop, and then do it again, before attacking.  We've still got a few hours.  Fight on a full stomach, and all that.  So... have any salt?"

And with that, the Brit and the Canadian ran across a war zone so they could cook a rabbit.  And my Great Uncle thought it was so bizarre that he befriended the Canadian (and the Canadian looked out for "the new guy").  Eventually, he introduced the Canadian to my grandmother, and you can guess where it went from there.