As Europe teetered on the brink of war in the Summer of 1939, two Moncton schoolteachers went on a carefree two-month-long vacation across that continent. The Second World War would begin before they got home…
“I’ve discovered that only Scotch words can adequately describe the country’s scenery,” Margery Hayes wrote after arriving in Scotland. “Loch Katrine is bonny!”
Margery Hayes was, at 31, the freshly-retired president of the Moncton Teachers Association. In that role, she led schools to add music and arts programs to the curriculum for the first time. Yet, she said that her proudest achievement while leading the union was organising an initiative to distribute daily free milk to 612 impoverished Moncton schoolchildren.
Hayes, along with 21-year-old teacher Aurore Bourque were going to a major international teaching conference in Sweden that August. However, the two teachers, decided that since they were going to Europe anyway, they would extend the trip to a full two-month summer tour.
They said that they funded their big trip with a shoestring budget and sheer willpower.
“That means going without lots of things including shows and this and that and the other,” Hayes explained, before adding encouragingly: “but it can be done if you really want to see the world. … Don’t ever think it can’t be done!”
By the summer of 1939, it was all but inevitable that war would soon consume Europe.
In Edinburgh, Hayes lamented “I only wish that all war mongers might visit the War Memorial here and then stop to think. Surely our lives are short enough without having to endure that greatest of all horrors.”
When they made it to London, the teachers were shocked to see the scale of preparations underway in the city for the yet-undeclared war. Canadian news media’s hopeful reporting about an ongoing desperate peace conference discussing a 25-year-disarmament led them to believe there would be peace in their time.
Yet the two women found the mood was bleak in London. At the British Museum, they found that the most treasured exhibits had already been whisked away to safety. At Westminster Abbey, they noted that the magnificent stained glass windows had been removed and put in storage.
They took an overnight boat to Amsterdam. They were eager to visit a Jewish museum there but felt they were unlikely to get the opportunity as it was the Sabbath. They were delighted when an elderly Jewish man let them in regardless and personally showed them around.
That kind man probably didn’t survive the Holocaust, which saw 75% of Dutch Jewish people killed.
The teachers were fascinated by the Netherlands’ land reclamation projects which involved building dykes and draining water to create farmland. Hayes quipped “God made the Universe but the Dutch made Holland!”
Six years later, the Germans would blow up the dykes and flood the Netherlands in a desperate effort to slow Canadian soldiers’ efforts to liberate the country.
The two women toured Belgium by rented car, offering enthusiastic endorsements of its foods.
“I must include this story,” Hayes added, “I ordered fruit, juice, toast and coffee for breakfast and the waiter said: “Won’t you have something to eat in between, ma’am?””
They took the train to Paris but the city “rather disappointed us. Things were very expensive and the people on the streets did not look so well-dressed.”
The Louvre made up for it though, with Hayes enthusing that it “was almost the end of us! It is impossible to appreciate so much art all at once!”
In Switzerland, the two women endured a harrowing experience after getting caught in a massive snowstorm while hiking a mountain.
As snow accumulated, they made it to a road. They got lucky — a passing Swiss army unit found them and took them to safety. “We were terribly glad to get down,” Hayes exclaimed.
Next, they visited Germany. Hayes had been telegraphing passages of her diary to the Moncton Transcript newspaper, but her German article reads as strangely clipped. Normally she would include at least one backhanded dig at Hitler per article, but this time she was uncharacteristically quiet.
She wrote about seeing beautiful old German castles, the Black Forest, fine foods, and a wine cask in Old Heidelberg that held 50,000 gallons.
When she got home, she explained that they had been allowed to see “what the authorities wanted us to see and no more.”
The two teachers stayed in Cologne’s old city which she called “a marvellous piece of work, having taken over 600 years to build.” Virtually the entire city would be destroyed by firebombing during the war.
They appear to have visited Berlin, which by that point would have been deep into war preparations. Hayes, however, seems to have refused to ever talk about what she saw in the German capital.
They next scrambled up to Denmark, where they drily commented that a private hospital for patients with nervous disorders was doing booming business.
They visited Norway, “which very much looked like Newfoundland,” and Sweden which “would take too much space to do it justice so I shall go on to less appreciated Finland.”
Finland was “so much like Canada that I immediately felt at home.” She praised the beautiful architecture, quiet people, simple tastes and how affordable it was.
They praised the ongoing preparations for the 1940 Olympic Games in Helsinki, though they lamented that it would likely mean the country would not be as affordable as it was then.
Then, for the first time in weeks, they found an English-language newspaper.
“It was in Finland that the European situation began to look serious,” wrote Hayes. They’d been out of the loop because “before that, our opportunities to see newspapers had been limited.”
They learned that days earlier the Soviet Union and Nazi Germany had signed a non-aggression pact. This would free Germany up for war.
“Russia is considered somewhat of a traitor,” Hayes hissed, “but no one is really surprised.”
The two teachers — and, seemingly the local Finns — fully understood that this Soviet-Nazi pact meant war would be declared in mere days.
Their suspicion was absolutely correct. Hitler was preparing to invade Poland within hours of the Soviets officially ratifying the pact on September 1st. Britain and France were committed to declaring war on Germany if Poland was attacked, meaning that, for the second time, the world would be at war.
On August 26th, the teachers began to race home. They were hardly alone — their ship from Finland to England was filled with other tourists who had cut their vacations short.
Along the way, they passed an enormous fleet of warships. They were British, and Hayes wrote “The lights of the Fleet in position were very reassuring.”
“The people do not want war,” Hayes protested, “it is only Hitler, the brute.”
Once back in London, they saw massive lineups outside of travel offices.
People were desperately trying to get to the safety of North America.
“All around the city there are huge balloons anchored in clear spaces,” observed Hayes “in case of an air raid. This barricade will give warning of the approach of enemy planes and, it is hoped, form a wire entanglement to them.”
They boarded a ship heading to Canada on the last day of August.
As they sailed home, Germany invaded Poland.
The news that Britain had declared war arrived on their ship along with orders that the ship immediately return to port back in Scotland.
“The news was received with calm and reserve,” Hayes wrote. ”There was absolutely no panic among either the passengers or crew.”
After sailing for seven hours back towards Britain, new orders were received. The ship was permitted to continue to Canada.
Once back in Canada, the teachers were asked about Allied civilians’ resolve, and replied: “Everybody was filled with a stern resolution to face the difficult and dangerous times ahead of them with calmness and patience until ultimate victory.”
Shortly after returning, Hayes delivered a fiery speech to Moncton women that the startled Daily Times newspaper described as “extremely vivid.”
In her speech, she thundered: “There is a need for Canadian women to be less complacent about the democratic principles they enjoy!”
