This is the story of my Granny Evelyn’s uncle, Napoleon Morin, who served with the Royal Winnipeg Rifles during World War II and fought in both D-Day and the Battle of Normandy in France.
Napoleon was from Cumberland House Cree Nation in Saskatchewan and enlisted in the Canadian military at just 22 years old. To serve, he had to give up his Treaty rights, with a promise of land upon his return—a promise that was never fulfilled. For years, we believed he had died in a POW camp but had no other information until a researcher in Ontario, Shirley Stone, uncovered more details. In 2012, we learned that Napoleon had stormed the beaches on D-Day and was captured by the SS, becoming a prisoner of war. Alongside 14 other Canadian soldiers, he managed to escape, but they soon faced another situation. Mistaken for enemy forces, they were caught in an airstrike by American Mustang pilots in Saint-Georges-des-Groseillers. One soldier bravely removed his jacket and waved it to signal the pilots to stop firing, but tragically, it was too late. Six of the 15 soldiers, including our uncle Napoleon, were fatally wounded.
Two young girls, aged eight and nine at the time, tried to aid Napoleon in his final moments. Though they have since passed away, they later shared, “They did what they could, with what they had, and what they were able to do with the Germans watching.” Napoleon died on June 11, 1944. A 12-year-old boy recalled carrying his body in a horse buggy to bury him along with other soldiers. His body was later exhumed and moved to the town cemetery, and then again to his final resting place at the Bretteville-sur-Laize Canadian War Cemetery, along the main road from Caen to Falaise.
The people of Saint-Georges-des-Groseillers have always honored the memory and sacrifices of those Canadian soldiers. When we visited his final resting place in 2012, we were touched by the warmth and respect shown by the town. This year, marking the 80th anniversary of the end of World War II, we were invited back. We had billet families who took us in, cooked us food, and the town gave us two vehicles to use during our stay. We toured the countryside in Normandy of where my Uncle’s journey from the beach would have been. My dad led a smudge for our family, and we left a braid of sweetgrass and tobacco at Napoleon’s grave—a gesture of gratitude and remembrance.
We were part of huge celebration and ceremony, and my children even led a parade. It was a profound experience for me to see my children connect with their family’s wartime history. Watching them play on Juno Beach warmed my heart and made me proud to share this heritage with them.
Comments