Against All Odds

by P. J. Naworynski

  A few of the guys in front of their Czech “taxi.”

  Tom Schroeter

  THE LONG ROAD HOME

  16

  Back at the Stahlbad Hotel, it was time to celebrate. Hundreds of telegrams from Canada and abroad poured in congratulating the Flyers. Prime Minister William Lyon Mackenzie King cabled them, as did external affairs diplomat Lester B. Pearson, along with Air Marshal Wilf Curtis, Defence Minister Brooke Claxton, the chiefs of the naval and army staff, CAHA president Al Pickard, family members, friends, and even female admirers. Members of the British hockey team that had won Olympic gold in 1936 wired them: “Congratulations to the new champions from the Ex.” Sandy read a few of the choice messages to the boys as they prepared for the evening’s celebrations.

  Those same Canadian newspapers that had once blasted the Flyers now jumped on the bandwagon and championed their success. The next morning, the Ottawa Journal’s page-one headline read: “Flyers Bring Title Back to Cradle of Game. Rags to Riches Saga Climaxed by Victory.”

  Back in Ottawa, André Laperrière’s proud sister, Renée, was bouncing off the walls. She hollered and cheered along with her parents when they heard the good news. They cabled André a hearty congrats and couldn’t wait for their gold-medal champion to come home.

  In St. Moritz, the Flyers were the toast of the town. RCAF group captain Robert Cameron was a Winnipeg boy who was now serving as Canada’s air attaché in Prague. Cameron pulled some strings in the ritzy mountain town and lined up a huge feast. He held a reception for the team at the Stahlbad, and the liquor flowed like water.

  The boys cleaned up real nice for their victory party. They sported grey flannel dress pants, crisp white shirts, pink-and-white-striped ties, and smart blue blazers with a maple leaf on the breast pocket. Members of the Canadian ski and skating teams also joined the festivities. George Mara tapped his father’s massive liquor-and-wine importing firm to bolster the free-flowing booze by coughing up a bottle of premium liquor for each of the guys to enjoy. Sandy’s restrictions were lifted and the handcuffs were off. The boys could finally blow off some steam and bask in the glory of their triumphant win.

  After the speeches and formalities, the party made its way into town. Some of the guys hit the Kurhaus hotel for beer; others spread out and painted the town red. André Laperrière and Andy Gilpin didn’t slide back to the hotel until 4:00 a.m. Nearly seventy years later, sitting in his lounge chair in Kelowna, Roy Forbes looked up at the ceiling as he ruminated about that night so long ago. He grinned and shook his head. “God, we had a great night in one of those bars there. I tell ya, it was a great night!”

  Bright and early the next morning the celebration continued. A few of the boys were nursing hangovers and some of the others had barely caught a wink’s sleep, but no one was going to miss Hubert Brooks’s and Bea Grontved’s big day. Dressed in their military uniforms, the Flyers escorted Hubert and Bea to a small Roman Catholic chapel that was perched high above St. Moritz and overlooked the Olympic Stadium.

  With snowbanks piled high over their heads, they filed into the tiny stone chapel for the ceremony. Bea was wearing a beautiful dress, heels, a light fur coat, and an electric smile. Hubert was dashing and debonair in his military dress. Brooks had asked Sandy Watson to stand in as his best man. Barbara Ann Scott readily agreed to be Bea’s maid of honour. The couple asked RCAF group captain Robert Cameron to give the bride away.

  When the newlyweds emerged from the chapel, the boys formed an honour guard with their hockey sticks raised in an arch. Newspaper reporters and photographers fired off a barrage of photos. Arm in arm Hubert and Bea walked under the hockey sticks positively aglow. At just twenty-six, the young man from Bluesky, Alberta, had lived quite a life. Inside he was bursting with emotion. He could not think of a better way to culminate his first quarter century than marrying the love of his life in a storybook ceremony in St. Moritz.

  As the wedding party congratulated the newlyweds outside the church, members of the press called out for more poses and pictures. They asked Hubert to plant a posed kiss on the maid of honour, Barbara Ann Scott. While the boys and Bea had a hearty laugh, Brooks and Barbara Ann accommodated the photographers. Much to Hubert’s and Bea’s amusement, it was his kiss with Barbara Ann that made the news cycle the following day.

  After a brief celebration party and reception at the Stahlbad, it was time to get back to business. Barbara Ann made tracks to Davos, where she would be trying to defend her world title in two days. Sandy gave Brooks a few days off so he and Bea could enjoy an abbreviated honeymoon in St. Moritz. Meanwhile, the rest of the Flyers packed up for a late-afternoon train to kick off the start of the team’s post-Olympic European exhibition game tour.

  Already, St. Moritz was a shadow of its former self. The V Olympic Winter Games were over. The Olympic flame had been extinguished. Many of the hotels had already begun shuttering their doors. Gone were the crowds and the excitement. By the time the boys made it to the train station for the first leg of their journey, it seemed like a completely different world than the one they had steamed into just two weeks earlier.

  The “honour guard” at Hubert and Bea Brooks’ wedding.

  Ralf Brooks

  The relief and elation of winning the gold medal were quickly replaced by the cold, hard reality that the boys still had nearly two months of exhibition games ahead of them before they could go home. For the next seven weeks they criss-crossed through Europe as ambassadors for Canada, taking on local teams, regional champions, and other national teams, like their old foes the Czechs and the Swedes. The exhibition games weren’t lined up just as a gesture of civic goodwill. The Flyers needed a percentage of the gate receipts to pay for their expenses and cover the cost of their return sailing to New York.

  For the first week they bounced around Switzerland. Their next stop was Czechoslovakia. Sometimes they travelled by airplane; other times they went by special trains, buses, even sleighs that hauled them and their gear through rough remote passes. After Czechoslovakia, they were on to France, and then to Holland, Sweden, Britain, and Scotland.

  In the afterglow of the Olympics the Flyers were treated like champions everywhere they went. They had become the darlings of the European hockey community. It was a far cry from the reception they received prior to the Games. Night after night, in town after town, thousands of fans came out to watch their hometown heroes take on the new Olympic champions. At many of the stops on their tour, the boys were wined and dined at civic receptions and banquets. Hockey-mad European fans and dignitaries showered them with gifts such as scarves embroidered with the word Canada, pencils, ashtrays, medals, cut-glass vases, even metal cups engraved with a maple leaf design. Before and after exhibition games they were mobbed by fans who were desperately seeking autographs. Female admirers slipped letters under their hotel room doors, and some even included pictures. One of Murray’s fans confided that she was writing him not because he was a “good hockey player, but because he was a good-looking hockey player.”

  With the pressure of the Olympics behind them, many of the guys seized the opportunity to finally pick up presents for their loved ones back home. Murray Dowey bought his wife some fine blouses and jewellery. He picked up a beautiful silver cigarette case for his dad and some fancy French perfume for his mother-in-law. Other boys bought Swiss watches and Czechoslovakian crystal. Patsy Guzzo picked up some dolls and handkerchiefs for his little girl, Lee; some perfume and a musical clock for his mother-in-law; and some jewellery for his wife.

  They played in front of the Dutch royal family in the Hague, and in front of fifteen thousand in Brno. In Paris they beat Le Club Racing de Paris with backup goalie Ross King in net. Ross lost two teeth when he took a puck in the face during that match against the French. Sandy sutured in six stitches and Ross was back in net for the rest of the game. In Sweden the boys feasted on eggs, ham, milk, and a variety of meats before they headed back to Great Britain and the slim pickings of a country still u
nder post-war rations.

  By the end of March they had travelled some fifteen thousand miles and played before an estimated 350,000 fans. After playing thirty-five games in seven countries, the gruelling schedule had taken its toll on them all. They had fulfilled their obligations as hockey ambassadors for Canada, and their cut from the exhibition games meant Sandy now had enough money to cover the return trip home. Bruised, battered, and exhausted, they were ready and eager to get back to their families.

  On Tuesday, March 30, the Flyers hopped off the bus and dragged their bags into their old digs at the Crofton Hotel in downtown London. The same lady who had checked them in way back on January 15 was again sitting behind the front desk. She was still wearing her fur coat, her warm gloves, and her hat. The boys dropped their gear in their spartan rooms and headed out to the Garden Clover Club, where Bunny Ahearne threw them a going-away bash. While they feasted in the club on some quality food, many of the guys had their first glimpse at the way of the future: television.

  By noon the next day they had boarded the Queen Elizabeth’s sister ship, the Queen Mary, and finally set sail for home. With their spirits high the walking wounded made their way down to their tourist-class cabins. Nearly all the boys had lost weight—some as much as ten pounds. André Laperrière had a juicy gash under his right eye and a puncture wound over it. Louis Lecompte’s arm had healed, but now he had a cheekbone fracture. Roy Forbes and Reg Schroeter were both sporting one-inch gashes on their foreheads. Frank Dunster was nursing extensive bruising over both thighs and a cut nose. Patsy Guzzo had pulled groin muscles.

  Sandy Watson recognized that his boys looked as if they had been on the losing end of a bar fight. He told reporters who had gathered on the ship, “Five days on board will fix them nicely. They will get home in good shape.”

  Along with their gold medals and the world championship cup, one of their prized possessions was Murray Dowey’s much-loved, much-taped and retaped goal stick. “It is the only survivor of more than three hundred sticks we brought over with us and we wouldn’t part with it for one million dollars,” said trainer George McFaul. Only five goals snuck past that stick during the team’s incredible run to the podium. Some felt the stick belonged in a museum. Newlywed Hubert Brooks, meanwhile, was coming home with two prizes: a gold medal and the love of his life.

  The homecoming parade in Ottawa.

  Jim McAuley

  OLYMPIC CHAMPIONS

  17

  On April 7, a breath of cool, wintery air lingered across downtown Ottawa. Despite the chilly temperatures the sun was shining and the trees that lined Elgin Street were full of tiny buds, heralding the arrival of spring. For days military bands had been practising drills and songs in preparation for the festive welcome home ceremony for the nation’s Olympic-champion RCAF Flyers. Hundreds of people jammed into Ottawa’s Union Station eagerly awaiting the team’s arrival. Giant banners that read “Canada is proud of you” draped the walls. The full complement of the RCAF Central Band, bolstered by the RCMP’s band, waited at the ready with their hands on their instruments. Barricades were set up to contain the gathering crowds.

  Outside the station, thousands more lined the parade route that led past the National Defence Headquarters, ending up at the team’s old stomping grounds, the Beaver Barracks. At 1:00 p.m. the train steamed into Ottawa’s Union Station, and the boys stepped out into a wall of sound. They were greeted by a huge fanfare of fans, family, military officials, and well-wishers. The two bands blasted out “Captains of the Clouds” to the cheers of exuberant fans. Defence Minister Brooke Claxton and old friend Buck Boucher were among the first to grab the boys’ hands and congratulate them for a job well done. Tears were flowing; husbands, wives, and sweethearts embraced, and babies were passed over to the fathers, like Reg Schroeter and Patsy Guzzo, who had longed to see them for over three months.

  After a few moments for personal greetings, the hockey lords filed into a fleet of Buick convertibles and took to the streets of Ottawa for a formal parade. The city was abuzz with excitement for the underdogs who had surprised the world and brought glory to Canada’s armed forces. With a marching band out in front, the cars wound their way past thousands of spectators who lined the streets four to five people deep. Motorcycle outriders cut a swath up both sides of the street to prevent fans from rushing the cars. As the boys waved to the fans, photographers ran in for close-ups and newsreel cameras whirred away. Overhead, three silver Dakotas did a low flyby and dipped their wings in salute.

  André Laperrière’s little sister, Renée, could not believe her brother was suddenly so famous. She was having the time of her life, watching the spectacle of all these strangers cheering, shouting, and applauding for her big brother. In among the mob of spectators on the parade route, she couldn’t contain herself. She kept turning to those around her, pointing and shouting, “That’s my brother! That’s my brother!”

  For Murray Dowey, winning gold and coming home to the warm reception was the highlight of his life in sport. For Patsy Guzzo, it capped a wonderful ending to the saga of the RCAF. What better way to end his playing days than with a gold medal for his country? For Roy Forbes, the experience was bittersweet. He’d made great lifelong friends, played some of the best hockey of his life, and had a damn good time in the process. But to this day, he still burns inside a little. He still wishes Frank had let him play during at least one of those eight crucial Olympic games.

  CANADA’S DOUBLE GOLD AT THE 1948 Winter Olympics had a galvanizing effect on the country. Coming out of the war years, the wins by Barbara Ann Scott and the RCAF Flyers helped provide a natural boost to many Canadians still struggling in the aftermath of post-war gloom. But the spotlight for the Flyers quickly faded, whereas the flame for Barbara Ann Scott burned even brighter.

  In the ensuing weeks, months, and years the graceful figure skater became hugely popular. Barbara Ann Scott was clearly the biggest story for Canada to come out of the 1948 Winter Olympics. For her welcome home parade, a hundred thousand fans descended on the streets of Ottawa. The media and masses latched onto her wholesome appeal and incredible talent and propelled her to become Canada’s sweetheart. Hollywood came calling. Young girls aspired to be her, and Reliable Toys created the Barbara Ann Scott doll, which sold well from 1948 until 1954. She was crowned the unrivalled queen of Canadian figure skating. She was inducted into the Canadian Olympic Hall of Fame in 1948 and Canada’s Sports Hall of Fame in 1955, and was made an Officer of the Order of Canada in 1991.

  For the men of the Flyers things went a little differently. After the parades, the parties, the celebrations, and the headlines, the boys who won gold quickly dissolved into the background. There were no big endorsement contracts, and none of them chased fame or NHL careers.

  Before they officially disbanded on April 11, 1948, the boys got together to divvy up all the wonderful gifts and mementos the team had been given on their post-Olympic tour. They put everything on a table and drew numbers out of a hat to decide who picked first. André Laperrière drew the first straw. One by one they dealt out the vases, pins, flags, cups, trinkets, trophies, and banners. And then, after being together for months, they went off on their separate paths once again.

  Every man in the service was given two weeks’ leave, then it was back to his regular duties. The guys who were called in off the reserves list reported back to their civvy jobs. The titans of business were back at work. The Flyers’ moment of glory was short and sweet. A blip in time and then they faded into history.

  Over the years the guys got together for the odd game of golf or the occasional anniversary reunion. Although they were spread out across the country, some of the pairings and cliques carried on. Whenever Murray Dowey found himself in Montreal or André Laperrière made it to Toronto, the old roomies would meet for dinner. Wally Halder and George Mara remained lifelong friends and eventually worked together with the Olympic Trust of Canada. Roy Forbes and fellow warrior Frank Dunster remained close friends unt
il the bitter end. Patsy Guzzo’s small sports store in Ottawa became a regular meeting place for the boys to pop in for a quick chinwag and a catch-up.

  As the years passed by, Reg Schroeter was the glue that kept all the Flyers together. He took it upon himself to be the team’s historian and archivist. In the aftermath of the Olympics, Reg returned to his job in Ottawa and worked in government until his retirement in 1980. He continued playing senior hockey and passed on a chance to play with the Boston Bruins in the NHL, as that would have meant leaving his family for long periods and giving up his government job. He continued playing hockey until 1992, while also refereeing at the amateur level. As the team’s “unofficial volunteer” historian and archivist, Reg kept tabs on everyone and maintained a detailed scrapbook of newspaper clippings that he shared with all the guys and their families up until his death from stomach cancer in September 2002.

  Roy Forbes went back to Trenton and finished up his meteorological courses. He transferred out of the RCAF and moved over to the army in 1952, when he was invited by the brigadier general to play for the army hockey team at the upcoming 1952 Olympics in Oslo. It took Roy about ten seconds to make the decision to leave the air force and join the army for a second crack at playing hockey on the Olympic stage. But the Korean War broke out, and Forbes once again had to answer the call to serve his country. He served as a platoon commander in Korea and worked his way up the army ranks until he retired after more than forty years of service. A fighter forever, Roy outlived his beloved wife, Jeannie, and many of his friends. When I last saw Roy he was ninety-four. He no longer had the balance to lace up and take to the ice, but he still enjoyed watching hockey in his trailer outside Kelowna. Roy passed away on April 12, 2017, six days after he celebrated his ninety-fifth birthday.