They departed Raimbault after an unexpectedly short stay. Auré insisted Aubrey and their son travel to Halifax. He wanted René to see the wartime ships that the little boy loved. When the change of plans was explained, Aubrey thought her husband wanted to see a mistress and needed his wife elsewhere. Aubrey was taken aback when he announced he was to go with them.
After a few days of travel by train, the young family reached their destination. The dominion’s small Navy increased over the course of the duration. It also saw further vessels donated by patriotic Haligonians for the length of the effort. Harbour rules and regulations had been greatly let down due to the effort’s massive comings and goings.
“SS Imo,” the nanny read the name aloud of the ship closest to René. The pair stood at the guardrails of Pier 6, which overlooked the harbour, on the 6th of December. They waved to the ship. René had a lovely time in the ocean-side city. In fact, his mother had not seen him as happy as in the short week their family had been there.
“To-day thou shalt be with me in paradise165,” said Aubrey, smiling while she squeezed René in a quick embrace. She was so happy to be with her husband and child on a vacation. Our only son166 and what a handsome little boy, thought Aubrey with pride. She had a profound feeling that she should not leave her son but take him with her. “Women’s intuition,” she chided herself embarrassingly. René was left with the nanny and his parents went to the city’s shopping district. The family would have liked to have rented a yacht but decided to do so when they returned once the war ended.
The SS Imo was late leaving Halifax. She was to sail to New York, then to Belgium that very morning. A cargo ship, the SS Mont-Blanc, could be viewed sailing into port. She was bound for France. The ship was consigned with hundreds of tons of wartime explosives, a few thousand tons of picric acid to make shells, tons of gun cotton, and barrels of high-octane fuel. The Mont-Blanc sailed through the harbour and amid miscommunication, it dashed against the Imo. Barrels spilt on board the Mont-Blanc. A fire immediately ensued.
The Mont-Blanc continued into the harbour afire. All of a sudden, a tremendous funnel of smoke billowed into the sky. Seemingly every Haligonian stopped to stare at the tumult. René was the sole thought that came to Aubrey’s mind when she saw the smoke. For peace167 of mind she tried to steel herself that he was enjoying watching the smoke, though she desperately wanted him next to her in that moment. All of a sudden, Aubrey felt the day had stopped being carefree, and all she could think was, My son, my son168. She and Auré were a few streets away from the Pier. To one side of her, firemen were seen running towards the ships. At the same time, a train dispatcher, Vincent Coleman, ran into his office. He hurriedly sent cables to halt all trains bound for Halifax: Hold up the train. Ammunition ship afire in harbor making for Pier 6 and will explode. Guess this will be my last message. Good-bye, boys.
Every fibre of Aubrey’s being was now screaming, find René. Before she could start to make her way through the crowd, a magnanimous blinding light flashed. Aubrey awoke on the ground and to a severe migraine and ringing in her ears. She instinctively reached to her forehead, where she felt pain. Instantly, her hand was covered in blood. Buildings all about her had toppled. Auré’s arms were around her as he picked her up. She felt crushed against his chest at his complete disregard of his normal gentleness towards her, given their predicament.
Amidst the pandemonium, gone unnoticed by those around, were Auré’s hysterical French cries of, “My son?! My son?!” Then, Aubrey lost consciousness.
The Halifax explosion was the most diabolical man-made explosion in history. Two square miles of Halifax were flattened. The corollary reached hundreds of miles distant to the city. Nine thousand citizens were injured. A handful thousand were left without anywhere to live. The same day’s evening brought one of the worst blizzards in decades. Every German Haligonian, fourteen in all, was put in prison. Two thousand graves were dug in the aftermath. Coleman was among the buried and was credited with saving the more than seven hundred souls on board the incoming trains, all of which received his last message and were able to stop on the outskirts of the city. The same trains were used to transport the wounded to neighbouring city hospitals and to deliver doctors, Red Cross volunteers, and medical supplies into the city. Forth from the shadows came death with the pitiless syllable “Now,”169 one of the smallest graves would have been dug for René Richardieux but for his mother’s insistence that he return to Pembina to be buried aside his great-grandfather.