1st Battalion, 48th Highlanders (1942-45)
THE HEART OF A REGIMENT
In the annals of the 48th Highlanders of Canada there are numerous Highlanders of great renown. Our Regimental histories list their battlefield exploits. Names such as Johnston, Haldenby, Bent, Elms and Mackenzie are well known. But others, less well chronicled in our histories show through their actions what it means to be a Highlander, what is at the heart and soul of the Regiment. Herb Pike was such a Highlander. As much as any in the Regiment he showed, day after day for the 3 years he was overseas with the 1st Battalion and for the 75 years that followed, the best and the ideals of a 48th Highlander. He truly represented the heart of our Regiment.
Herbert James Pike enlisted in 1942 at the age of 18, straight out of high school. He said that it was not a choice but the right thing to do. He had to play his part in defeating the spread of something that went against every belief that he held. Herb had intended to join the RCAF. They said he was too young. Returning home, he passed the army recruiting office manned by the 48th Highlanders. To him they were the best and most admired Regiment in Toronto. He entered and fifteen minutes later had signed on. After training in Stratford, then Guelph he was picked for advanced unarmed combat and battle drill at Ipperwash. A train to Halifax followed to join 22,000 on the Queen Elizabeth, designed for just 2000 passengers in peacetime. Soon after arriving in England he joined the 1st Battalion. When the battalion left in June 1943 for Sicily Herb remained behind, one of several LOB (left out of battle) as replacements for key positions as casualties incurred.
He sailed in September for Philippeville, Algiers then to the Adriatic coast of Italy, rejoining his battalion just after they had captured Campobasso in early October. He was quickly promoted to Sergeant then transferred to Able Company as platoon sergeant in time for the battles of The Gully and Cemetery Hill, outflanking Ortona. In the 1st Battalion there was a principle that only the best in leadership and combat skills were retained in key officer and NCO positions in the fighting companies. Lives of Highlanders were at stake and nothing less than the best was acceptable. Herb held his role in Able Company to the end of combat in Apeldoorn in April 1945, a testament to his skills as a soldier and person.
Herb was a great storyteller. Herb could tell all the stories, the funny, the tragic and the shattering. When asked how he coped he said that he earned quickly in combat that when a buddy dropped beside him he had to carry on, to fulfill what he and his friend had started together. Herb said he placed these events at one side in his mind, never to be forgotten but also never to tear down his belief in himself and what he and others were doing. To do otherwise was to leave himself vulnerable on the battlefield and put his comrades in his platoon at risk. His openness after the war to those who asked about his experiences was a heart that was open and for those of us who were lucky enough to have these conversations with Herb, he invited us into his heart. It was as big as it was open.
Herb was proud to be part of Able Company. He said that Able stood for “Attack” and Bravo stood for “Be there when we get back.” His platoon for The Gully was supposed to be 35 strong. It was a mere 15 but Herb said that Gerry couldn’t tell when they pushed them back time after time. “The Regiment in Italy was my school and they made me the equivalent of 35 years old.”. Herb said he became an adult through experience, training and the examples of the battalion’s leaders. Late in the summer of 1944, after the 48th breached the Hitler Line at the head of the Liri valley, Herb was platoon commander as his officer had been wounded. The 48th were fighting up the Adriatic coast from the Arielli River. A new Lieutenant, Andy LeMesurier was assigned, and he and Herb weren’t seeing eye to eye. LeMesurier called it insubordination and went to the company commander, who happened to be my father, then Captain George Beal. Dad took him aside where no-one could hear and suggested that as Pike had been running the platoon by himself for over a month he would do well to learn from an experienced NCO and follow his lead for the next couple of battles. Lt. LeMesurier did and soon provided outstanding leadership through the remaining advance to Rimini and beyond. Their partnership ended when Herb had to go back and lead Dog Company into a position. He told his lieutenant that Gerry wasn’t likely to move so they could stay safely in position. While he was away, Gerry attacked. Returning, Herb saw LeMesurier being carried out on a stretcher. At the Regiment’s 100th Anniversary in 1991 in Toronto Herb told Andy that he never said goodbye. LeMesurier responded, in his typical droll manner, “You didn’t eyes right either.” Such was the friendship they enjoyed and yet another measure of the heart of the man.
In 2004 my wife Nancy and I travelled with several of our veterans, including Herb, to revisit seven of the battlefields over which they had fought. Nancy wasn’t looking forward to war stories and battlefields but was there to support me and my Regiment. One evening we had gone out alone for a quiet dinner. When we returned the hotel was dark, light coming from one room. Inside were Herb and his great friend Gord Outhwaite. They invited us to join them and would not take no for an answer. Herb and Gord were as different as chalk and cheese. Herb was a middle-class Toronto boy. Oats was a biker, who loved opera. Herb asked Nancy if she had ever had a Highland Sunset. From under the table emerged a bottle of scotch and another of Drambuie. Filling a water glass to the brim began a two-hour dialogue full of laughter and a couple of tears. Nancy says that it was the best trip ever and due totally to the veterans. They, and Herb in particular, showed us who they were as people, under the uniform.
The next leg of the trip took us to the Lamone River, which the Regiment had crossed after other battalions and brigades had been rebuffed. Herb, who had macular degeneration and could barely see, took my shoulder, and walked me to a spot on the south bank. He said, “Your dad stood there, and I stood here, and this is what he said” as he directed the assault over the river. For me it was a magical moment. We crossed the river and Herb took my elbow as we climbed up the dike. Herb said: “About 150 yards northwest was an old stone farmhouse”. As we topped the dike Herb asked what I saw. My response was “150 yards northwest is an old stone farmhouse.” It was 60 years since Herb had been there. It was still crystal clear. Equally clear was his experience with a German tank coming down the road beside the dike. Herb and his PIAT man were alone less than 50 yards into a field. “The PIAT was a terrible weapon. It bounced off tanks unless hit totally square. It was better for opening doors and clearing trenches.” Waiting until the tank was square on Herb nodded the signal to fire. The shell bounced off. Herb rushed to the rear of the tank and dropped smoke grenades into the air intake, which the Germans had failed to cover. “We waited for them to come out.” The story stopped there.
At each of the battlefields on the trip we visited the nearby Canadian cemetery to pay our respects and say a prayer. Herb was often selected to say the ode that started: “At the going down of the sun.” His booming voice echoed through the cemeteries. Then our veterans visited the graves of their comrades, alone. Herb would stand close, put his hand on the stone and talk, not to us but to his friend. Herb told the story of Apeldoorn in the Netherlands during a trip in 2005 for the Dutch celebration of their liberation in 1945. The last night was a dinner to thank the Canadian veterans. Naturally, Herb was chosen to sit beside Princess Laurentien for dinner. Who else could be comfortable enough to chat for a couple of hours? Herb described a party in April 1945 held by Able company in the Het Loo palace where they had been billeted. Dutch girls had been invited, and they all came on bicycles. When the party was over Herb decided they couldn’t go home alone in the dark, so he loaded them and their bicycles on a truck and drove them home. On his return to the palace someone had locked the iron gates. Herb told the Princess that he just drove through them and said he was glad that they had never sent him the bill. The Princess told Herb that it had been paid, many times over, by the liberation of Her country by the Canadians. The experiences in Holland in 1945 bringing food and relief to the starving Dutch people made a great impact on Herb and formed a bond with the Dutch that he treasured. On several occasions after the War, he attended the liberation celebrations in Holland. He made many Dutch friends who he kept in contact with regularly during his entire lifetime.
On the first of October 1945 the 1st Battalion arrived at Union Station, Toronto by train then marched to University Avenue Armouries to the cheers of thousands of Torontonians. For Herb, getting back into civilian life was a challenge. As he put it, with only an education in war, his options for employment were limited. He started with Canada Post sorting letters. Boredom quickly set in and he tried Canada Wire and Cable. Factory work didn’t agree either. From 1947 to 1948 he sold insurance and realized that sales seemed to be his forte. He joined Anderson Pontiac Buick on Bay Street rising to sales manager, then general manager of Addison Cadillac. Later, he and a partner opened a Mercury dealership. “The cars were terrible.”, Herb recalled. “We hoped they would make it off the lot before the rust showed or the motor failed.” After a few years they sold the business and Herb joined Reynolds & Reynolds Aluminum. Here he learned that you could go home for supper. This was important to him as he had married the love of his life, Joan, in 1951 and they had a young family. Stephen, Stacey and Tamra. At Reynolds & Reynolds Herb was in his element, being awarded leading salesman in Canada many times and once for all North America. He retired in 1989.
In his civilian life Herb continued his presence with the Regiment. He wouldn’t miss Mess dinners, Remembrance Day parades, New Year’s levees or social events. He shared his experiences with old friends and new soldiers alike. He was a founding member of the Continuing Sergeants Association and a Life Member of the OCA. In 2005, Herb was featured on the Canadian quarter as part of Canada’s 60th anniversary celebrations of the end of WWII. As he sometimes said, he liked being called “Hollywood Herb” and enjoyed speaking to students and the media. He wasn’t shy about expressing his opinion either. “I didn’t fight for that.” was often his first comment on a government action. In recent years, in his 90s, if someone would give him a lift he would be with his Regiment, and there were many delighted to give him that lift.
Herbert James Pike, S/Sgt, 48th Highlander, husband, father, grandfather and great grandfather was beloved by all who knew him. For the Regiment he embodied the spirit and the character to which every Highlander aspires. For those in the Regiment who knew him, and talked with him, he was a comrade, more than just a friend. If, as you read this, you had talked just once with Herb, you would describe your relationship with Herb in those words and mean them just as fervently as someone who had known him closely for years.
He was truly: “The heart of a Regiment.”
HCol (ret’d) Geordie Beal, CD
Falcon December 2020
The Memory Project: Interview with Herb Pike
