When I started writing as a freelancer, many years ago, lots of First World War veterans were alive and well and more than willing to be interviewed. Some of the interviews I made were documented and are now preserved in the archives at the Universié Sainte-Anne in Church Point, Digby County.
One veteran I interviewed at great length was Mandee d’Entremont, a distant relative, who had experienced the Halifax Explosion first-hand while serving in the war. During those days Halifax was a very busy place, with convoys of ships coming and going out of the harbour. On Dec. 6, 1917, the munition ship Mont Blanc, heavily loaded with explosives, was on its way out of the harbour, in the narrows, when it collided with the Belgian relief steamer IMO. The Mont Blanc caught on fire and within minutes “all hell broke loose” with an explosion, which is believed to be the largest blast cause by man prior to the detonation of the atomic bomb. About 2,000 people were killed, close to 6,000 were injured; most of the north end of Halifax was demolished or burned. Property damages were estimated at more than $35 million.
In the winter of 1914, Mandee d’Entremont (then 20) decided to travel to Barrington, Shelburne County, and enlist in the Canadian Army. Because of a severe storm, the train coming from Halifax was stuck in the snow and the enlisting officer never showed up.
Not one to give up easily, Mandee joined the Royal Navy instead, serving on survey boats, which were converted as battle ships. One ship that he sailed on has survived to this very day. It is the Acadia, which along with the Second World War corvette Sackville forms part of the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic waterfront display in Halifax.
The duties those warships performed were to guard the entrance to the harbour and be on the lookout for any enemy activities, day or night. In December 1917, Mandee was sailing on the Landsdown, a survey boat about 200 feet long converted to battle duty. They had been out to sea on a patrol for several days and were scheduled to arrive at their homeport of Halifax on Dec. 5, (the day before the explosion).
For some reason, at the last minute, the captain decided to stay at sea one more day. Although the crew was disappointed, this action may very well have saved their lives. Being late with their schedule kept them away from Bedford Basin where much damage was done.
On the fateful morning of Dec. 6, the Landsdown was steaming up the harbour, inside George’s Island. It was Mandee’s turn at the steering wheel and this gave him a grand view of what was about to happen. The first thing he remembered seeing was a big red flame shooting upwards, then the blast and debris flying in all directions, passing mostly overhead, causing little damage and no injuries to the Landsdown or its crew. A heavy smoke rose for about three miles into the sky and hung there for a while turning from black to grey. A giant wave swept out to sea, causing more damage to ships and buildings close to shore.
Some people claim the explosion caused church bells to ring as far as 60 miles away, and the blast was heard for over 100 miles.
After the war Mandee worked at a variety of different jobs. He worked as a carpenter in the United States and came back home in 1925. He also went fishing, made barrels and operated a fish store (drying cod).
Over the years he and his wife Modeste raised 12 children. When I interviewed him he was the oldest man in the village, still keeping busy in his home workshop, working with wood and tending his greenhouse where he grew tomatoes and grapes.
Mandee never lost his sense of humour. Perhaps that’s why he was still around at that venerable age to be quoted: “I never had much money, feeding a large family during the depression, but I always considered myself a rich man, rich in health. The days that I have been sick in the last 96 years are few and far apart. One relative tells me that the man upstairs has forgotten all about me and to those who say I will make it to 100 years, well, that is only four years from now.”
Note: Mandee d’Entremont died on Sept. 25, 1993, just a wee bit short of the century mark.
