Hero

On August 19, 1942, just over six thousand commandos, mostly Canadian, were dropped off on the beaches at Dieppe, an exploratory raid to test invasion theories. Although the defenses were well known, little had been done to soften up the bunkers and pillboxes glowering down from the cliffs. It was not pretty.

Nearly two thirds of the landing force died, were wounded, or taken prisoner. To this day the Dieppe raid, ordered by Allied brass as an experiment, rankles Canadians. That priceless lessons were learned to be applied on D-Day is undeniable, but the cavalier lab experiment using colonial troops, with little air and sea cover, had no moral excuse.

Amongst the soldiers on the bloody beach was John Weir Foote, a chaplain. Born in the little town of Madoc, Ontario, Foote had become a Presbyterian minister before the war, and joined up as a padre. It was pretty clear in his mind that many of his boys would need in extremis spiritual care and medical assistance in the bold raid.

For eight hours, under withering fire, Foote calmly ran back and forth on the gravelly beach, dragging the wounded to shelter in a shallow depression, ministering to the dying, and offering morphine or whatever assistance he could. For eight shattering hours, while on the blood-stained sand and in the red water, he calmly presented himself as a target to the machine gunners in the pillboxes and bunkers above.

As the raid was called off and the order given to retreat, Foote helped gather up the remainder of the wounded, dragging them to the last retreating landing craft. His job was done.

But it wasn’t.

As his craft revved its engines to leave, Foote clambered down over the side and into the waves. Wading ashore, hands above his head, he walked straight toward enemy lines. He would be needed, he realized, more in the prison camp than back in England.

John Weir Foote spent nearly three years as a prisoner of war and spiritual leader to his men in the stalag. By choice.

Later awarded the Victoria Cross, Foote went on to serve his fellow Canadians both as a clergyman and in politics, ultimately sitting in Cabinet. But it was by choice and by sacrifice that he became a one-in-a-million hero.

John Weir Foote, VC, CD (1904-1988)

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