Father was afraid that they were going to arrest him too, but they didn’t. Father went to Feschuk’s homestead and closed it up to protect it from the weather. He brought his cow and horse to our place. After all, who would feed them? Anya, I am so sad about Yurij Feschuk, but having milk is nice. It is also good to have the horse.
Mama is upset and scared. She fears that they will take Father next.
Your dear friend,
Irena
Oy, Dear Diary, that is terrible about Irena’s neighbour, but I hope you don’t think I am awful if I admit that I’m glad that it wasn’t Irena’s father who got taken away.
Saturday, March 20, 1915
Dear Diary, every time I think it can’t get worse, it does. Ten Canadians have been killed in battle and three Allied warships have sunk. Canadians are angry as bees and they are taking it out on us. Tato, Stefan and Mr. Pemlych have all been sent to northern Quebec. I heard that it is very cold up there and that there are wild animals that eat people. What did we do to deserve this? Didn’t they ask us to come here in the first place? If the Canadian government didn’t want us, why did they encourage us to come?
Sunday, March 21, 1915, Easter
A man sent by the Austrian consulate was waiting by the door of our flat today when we came back from Mass. He was kind, but I could see from the look in his eyes that he doesn’t think our living arrangement is very nice. Baba, Mrs. Pemlych and Mama keep it as clean as they can, but it is difficult when it was so dirty to begin with. We did not have rats in Horoshova. We have killed every single one we have seen, but there are always more. It embarrasses me to see this man’s eyes judging us. Doesn’t he know we would have a nicer place if we could afford it? And how can we afford it when they have taken our men away and no one will hire Mama?
Thursday, March 25, 1915
The headline today was all about the great battle raging in the Carpathian mountains and also that Canada is going to spend one hundred million dollars for the war.
One thing I wonder
If Germany and Austria are the enemies, why aren’t the battles happening there? Why is it that all of the battles seem to be taking place in Galicia? After the war, Germany and Austria will be fine, but Galicia will be destroyed. I have done nothing to hurt anyone in my whole life. I know it is the same for Tato and Mama and Baba and Dido and Volodymyr too. All we have ever wanted is to have enough food and to live in peace. Is there something wrong with that??????
Sunday, March 28, 1915
Dear Diary, this man sent by the consulate, Mr. Foster, is kind. He brought us food and he told our landlord that if we were evicted, he would set the Health Department on him. I didn’t understand what that meant, but he said that it is against the law for landlords to rent out flats that have rats and no hot water. The Health Department is like the health police, so if we are kicked out of this flat, our landlord will be in big trouble. This is a relief.
Mr. Foster says that Tato is in a good place. He says that the men work on farms without fences. It is clean and healthy living, and there is plenty of food. He said that as soon as there is a house built for us, we will go there too.
Dear Diary, I really want to believe Mr. Foster, but I don’t know if he is telling the truth. Also, Irena makes it sound like her neighbour who was arrested is in a jail. Can both things be true?
Tuesday, March 30, 1915
The Canadians are even angrier today and I don’t blame them. In the newspaper it said that German submarines torpedoed two British steamers. These were not war steamers. There were women and children on them. They say that the Germans laughed as the women drowned.
It makes me angry, too, that the Germans would do this, but why do Canadians think that all foreigners are bad?
April 1915
Sunday, April 4, 1915, at night
Mr. Foster did not come today. I think it is because it is Canadian Easter.
Tuesday, April 6, 1915
The newspaper headlines today are not about Eastern Europe. I am praying that the reason is because the war has moved to someplace else. It is not that I want anyone else to suffer, but my old country needs a rest. Also, when there is a story that mentions anywhere in Eastern Europe, that day is worse for us here.
P.S. — in case you think I am buying all these newspapers, Dear Diary, you are wrong. Most of the time there is a day-old copy left lying around by one of the supervisors at work and I read it whenever I can.
Sunday, April 11, 1915
The time has come. Mr. Foster says that there are houses built for us and in a week or so we will get on a train and travel way up north to the camp where Tato is. Mr. Foster says it is called Spirit Lake Internment Camp. I asked him if “internment” means jail and he says no. He says it means a place to keep us safe.
He told us that Spirit Lake got its name because of an Indian legend that a huge star appeared over the lake. This star is the Indian spirit of God. I hope that Mr. Foster is telling us the truth. Maybe God is looking over Tato now and will soon be looking over us.
Tuesday, April 13, 1915
Mary says that “internment” means something different from what Mr. Foster told us. She said that it is definitely a kind of jail. This makes me worried. Are Tato and Stefan and Mr. Pemlych in a jail right now? Are we going to be sent to a jail too?
Saturday, April 17, 1915
Even if “internment” means jail, I would rather be in jail with Tato than be here without him.
When Mr. Foster came today, Mama told him that we would not go. She said we have done nothing wrong and we do not deserve to go to jail. She asked him why weren’t they arresting the people who call us names? Why don’t they do something about the bosses who fire us just because of where we were born?
Mr. Foster just sat there and shook his head. “You have no choice,” he said. “All ninety-two people from your parish are getting on the train tomorrow to go to Spirit Lake Internment Camp.”
Later
Maureen came to see me this evening. She gave me the carved wooden table and chair set from her dollhouse. Her eyes were round with sadness but she did not cry. I wanted to give her something in exchange. Mama stopped her packing and drew out an embroidered belt that she had made for her hope chest when she was my age.
Maureen’s mouth made a little O of surprise when I gave her the embroidery. She hugged it to her chest and blinked back tears. I may never see her again, but every time I look at my wee table and chairs I shall think of her. I hugged her tight and even though I wanted to cry, I didn’t.
Mama made a nest for Maureen’s gift inside our wooden chest so it wouldn’t break. She also carefully packed the dolls that Tato made for us.
Monday, April 19, 1915