Epilogue

Princess Louise

The drive off Coriano Ridge on the evening of September 14, 1944, brought an end to eighteen consecutive and exhausting days in combat for the 8th Princess Louise’s (New Brunswick) Hussars. Weary crews rode back to a harbour area outside San Giovanni, which they had helped to liberate two weeks before. By nightfall, even those with terrifying memories of the last days burned into their minds slept deeply. For the next several days, they recuperated in spirit, body, and mind, and repaired their steel mounts. Trips were laid on to the nearby beaches at Cattolica, still warmed by the late summer sunshine. Officers and men washed dust- and oil-caked bodies in the gentle surf. Hussars from southeastern New Brunswick were struck by the resemblance to the shallow tides and sandy beaches lining the Northumberland Strait off Shediac. In the evenings, they took in movies with story lines that reminded them of the families that waited for them across the ocean. It was all quite surreal given the battle they had just endured. That battle, however — indeed, the war against Germany — was not yet over. Even as they frolicked in the surf, Hussars watched Royal Navy destroyers and Allied aircraft pound German positions to the north around Rimini. It served as a reminder that their respite was temporary.

Captain Jack Boyer (left) with Princess Louise, October 1944.

LAC PA-173657

On the third day of rest, they took time to grieve for the fallen. Squadrons formed for a memorial service in which George Robinson listed read the names of twenty-five Hussars they would leave behind in a few days when it was time to move on. The ceremony was one all Canadians would find familiar. When the last name was called, a bandsmen/stretcher bearer sounded “Last Post” on his bugle. Heads bowed for two minutes of silence. Minds conjured memories of comrades back in the hills of Sussex, in the pubs of southern England, on the journey into the ancient and unknown world of Italy, and the moment they fell. More than a few eyes were moist. At the end of the second minute, the bandsman sounded “Reveille” and heads returned level. The time for grieving was over, at least for now.

Closing the Gothic Line and Coriano chapters of the 8th New Brunswick Hussar’s history and readying them for the final phases of the Second World War also necessitated a celebration of victory and many jobs done well. That evening, the Hussars and the Irish Regiment of Canada offered the Panzer IV tank they had captured intact a few days before as a gift to their division commander, Major-General Bert Hoffmeister, to commemorate their hard-fought victory at Coriano. In addition, the performance of two fine combat leaders during the battles there and earlier along the Gothic Line was noted and the wheels put in motion for formal recognition. Major Clifford McEwen and Major Harold Robertson Scarf “Tim” Ellis both ultimately earned a Distinguished Service Order for their “skill, boldness and handling” of their squadrons in the face of the enemy during the past two weeks. Lieutenant-Colonel George Robinson was also awarded the Distinguished Service Order and appointed an Officer of the Order of the British Empire for his service with the Hussars, particularly at Coriano. Like those of McEwen and Ellis, Robinson’s award came only after many more months of hard fighting. For now, though, an uncertain future lay ahead. The last warm summer days of September 1944 spent south of Coriano were for rejuvenation. Hussars wounded in past actions rejoined their comrades. New replacement officers and men also arrived to fill the gaps left in the regiment’s ranks.

One new member officially added to the ranks differed from all the rest. She had four legs. She came to them from a farm in the valley of death between Graveyard Hill and Coriano Ridge. Accounts of when she joined them vary as to the date, but two witnesses agree that it was probably September 4, during the first Hussar drive on Coriano. Hunter Dunn and “A” Squadron spotted a foal only three or four months old pacing fearfully in the middle of the boiling, fire-swept battlefield. She was bleeding and starving, having beaten down a path around the body of her mother, killed by a shell. The squadron radioed back to the “A” echelon fitters coming along behind to recover damaged Shermans to rescue the foal before she met her mother’s fate. The fitters brought the injured animal to Lance-Sergeant Gerald Kelly and the medical officer at the regiment’s aid post, located dangerously close to the front. The M.O., Dr. Tom Dalrymple, grumbled about not being a horse doctor, but he and Kelly tenderly bandaged the wounds on her leg and belly anyway. They were not deep. The regimental history records that she was given that special tot of His Majesty’s service-issue cure for all that ails: “From the beginning, she was a true Maritimer in her appreciation of a shot of rum.”

The foal’s rescue offered a glimpse of peace and hope for the future amid a war that was still yet to be won. During the hard days around Coriano, Jack Boyer’s fitters kept her hidden behind the front with the “A” echelon vehicles. They named the young horse “Princess Louise.” By the time the regiment moved to San Giovanni to rest, word of the rescue had spread throughout the ranks. The 8th Hussars made Princess the regimental mascot. For the first time since the mid-1930s, the New Brunswick cavalrymen once again had a horse in their midst. Boyer and the fitters took steps to keep their acquisition quiet, while Major Bob Ross ran interference with higher headquarters. Through a combination of trickery and ingenuity, they smuggled her with them through the rest of the campaign in Italy and from there to France and the Netherlands in 1945. After the war, they even managed to bring her home with them, where she lived out her days until 1973. The regiment’s love and devotion to Princess Louise became legendary.

So, too, did the 8th New Brunswick Hussars’ reputation for boldness and skill at arms. That reputation grew as the war raged on across the Rubicon and Lamone Rivers, to San Alberto in late 1944 and on to the Netherlands in 1945 and finally to Germany itself. The 8th Hussars’ war record and their enduring dedication to duty in the postwar period lay behind the 1957 decision to activate the Hussars as one of Canada’s regular force armoured regiments. The 8th Hussars’ legend began in the southeastern counties of New Brunswick, but it became reality on the slopes of Coriano Ridge