Bede Sutton and Fiancé Mary Morgan 6 Sept 1941, at The Corso, Manly, NSW Australia. "Their Last Goodbye"

Bede with his family outside his home in Ocean beach, Manly, NSW Australia

Letters Home

Bede Sutton was stationed at the Air Observers School in Malton, Ontario, when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbour, on 7 December 1941. This meant that Bede’s Bomber Command Squadron would now be sent to the South Pacific on completion of their training in the New Year. Many thought this meant the war was nearly over so they’d be seeing their loved ones sooner than expected. From his embarkation in September, Bede wrote home faithfully each week, to his parents, and fiancé Mary, keeping them up to date with his adventures. In an undated letter to his mother, written shortly after the Pearl Harbour attack, he wrote:

“Please don’t worry about me for I am confident in myself, and with your prayers I can’t help but come through OK. The Japanese affair and America now in the war has us all upside down, and all plans as far as we Aussie Airmen are concerned have altered. I cannot say why, but you may see me sooner than expected. I’m missing Mary, more than I ever imagined Mum, and I want so much to marry her for only then will I be truly happy.”

They received his next letter, dated 26 December 1941. He wrote that Canada was having one of its worst winters in years, which was causing all sorts of havoc with the training. Some of the pilots are having ‘snow blindness’, while ice on the wings was creating some ‘exciting’ flying lessons. Bede took it all in his stride as he found a way to put a positive spin on everything. For him, this was his greatest adventure he’d been dreaming about for years.

He wished them all a merry Christmas as said he was most fortunate in being asked to the home of one of their civilian pilots, Rutherford, whose father had a big business in Toronto and ‘pots of money’. He said the house itself was just like a Hotel with servants everywhere. He was treated like a Lord, but still with all this luxury, he missed his ‘little mother’ and all his loved ones at home. Even during dinner his thoughts were miles away, and he supposed others noticed, for his pal rose to his feet and asked him to propose a toast, which proved quite easy for him, and all joined in drinking to the health and happiness of his family. Not forgetting ‘little Mary’ and other good friends back home in Manly.

The days rolled on and the new year of 1942 came and went with sober restraint, as many local families were missing loved ones away at war. In the Sutton household, all four of Bede’s sisters, most of them newlyweds, moved back in with the family as all their husbands were away at war. And Mary’s, Bede’s fiancé, was living close by, so they were a strong support for each other.

Then came the moment ever family feared: the Post Master arrived from the local Office with an official telegram in his hand:


“It is with great regret that I have to write you about your son Bede Bernard, being missing from a routine navigation flight on January 8th, 1942. The flight departed from Malton, Ontario, at 2pm, arriving at St. John’s, Quebec, in time for supper…and to date the aircraft has not been found. So they are presumed dead.”

There were 3 others on board, including the civilian pilot Rutherford. The authorities feared the aircraft was buried in the snow and would probably not be found until Spring when the snow had melted.

They were beside themselves with worry and dread as they held each other for comfort. A sense of utter helplessness lingered in the home: there was nothing they could do but wait. Bede’s mother wrote almost weekly to the Home Office in Ottawa, begging for news. Trying desperately to hold on to hope, she wrote in one letter that ‘no news was good news’, but the burden of sorrow rested heavy in their hearts. And for eight long months they waited.

It was now September and the Canadian Spring had come and gone, but still no news was heard. Then finally the letter came. His mother, Mary, was sitting by the window in the sunroom, staring out to sea; lost in her own thoughts. Her husband, Bill, sat beside her reading the newspaper. The squeaky hinge on the gate intercepted Mary's thoughts, as she saw the Post Master, for the second time, opening the gate. She gasped for breath, as she clutched, with both hands, the string of pearls around her throat. Then steadied herself, by holding on to her husband’s broad shoulders.

Together, they approached the front door. Part of her wanted to run the other way, but the anguish of not knowing all these months, had taken their toll on her fragile frame, and was driving her to an early grave. They braced themselves for what came next.

The Post Master stood at the door with his eyes lowered to the ground for he knew he was about to smash their hopes to smithereens. He, and all of Manly had been holding out in hope as well, for news that one of their own great sporting sons of Rugby Union, played for the undefeated First Graders, as well as for NSW; one of the clubs highest point scorers, and greatest fullbacks, because of his speed and kicking accuracy, would never again take to the field and make the crowds roar in ecstasy.

The letter, dated 11 September 1942, from the Canadian Minister for Air Defense said:

“It was with deep regret that your son, Leading Aircraftman Bede Bernard Sutton, previously reported missing is now presumed to have died on January 8th, 1942... He gallantly and in the fullest measure, gave his life in the service of his King and Country.”

On hearing the news, Mary went to her bedroom and locked herself in, and didn’t come out for thirty-six hours. She was 66 years old and had now lost two sons. Bill, and their four daughters, knew better than to disturb her. She’d come out in her own time. That’s just the way she dealt with things. The house remained dark and quiet, like a catacomb, while outside, the warmth of an early Spring, which used to be Mary’s favourite time of year, was bringing new life to everything, as the rising sun danced across the water, and the fragrant scent of Jasmine filled the air.

Written by his great Niece, Lisa Margaret 12 Aug 2016

The Windsor Star, April 8, 1942