Ed Busby (1923-2009)
Born in Apr. 20, 1923, Edward K. Busby is a local Windsor veteran who went to King Edward Public School and W.D. Lowe Secondary School. At the age of 18, Edward K. Busby was commissioned to France, Holland during D-Day as a Transport Driver in the Army for the Second Canadian Armor Brigades.
His role in the military was decided because of his experience as a Highway Truck Driver. At the time when Hiram Walker did not have many drivers, he gathered experience as a truck driver by delivering alcoholic bottles from Wallaceburg to Windsor one year before his commission. Before his commission to deliver ammunition for the invasion, he also gained experience in England by delivering mail from the Canadian Postal Corps.
An Incident We Would All Like to Forget, but Can't
by Ed. K. Busby
When we were still in France, but getting near the Belgian Border, an incident occurred that I’m sure we would all like to forget, but can’t. Our convoy of trucks (lorries) had stopped on a country road for a break, as usual it was near a small woods or forest, because we all needed relief.
After a few minutes of rest, a shot rang out and one of our group fell. About two minutes later it happened again, and again. Our officer, Lt. Walton called us altogether behind our vehicles and told us that he and Sgt. Cunningham had determined that the shots were coming from the top floor of a barn, about 500 yards to the right of the road.
He divided us into two sections and said he was leading his group up through the far side of an orchard until he was close to the barn. Sgt. Cunningham would lead the group I was in up through a gulley and a ditch until we got to the barn.
It worked out well. We got to our spot, and on the Lt.’s signal, we stormed the barn. We all made it, and once inside we saw stars going up to the loft. It was an old barn and we could see light through the cracks in the old planking. Someone was moving around upstairs. One of our French boys, and our only German-Canadian Cpl. Both sang out that we were below and were coming up to get him. About half a minute late the trap door flew open and a figure with a blazing fire-arm started down the steps.
Well, that person rode two streams of 9 mm bullets from our Sten guns all the way down to the floor. When we turned him over, we found he was a she, torn apart by our bullets. It was a sickening sight I just wish I could forget.
We got the following information from the local French farmers. She was a French girl who had married a German soldier. No one knew where she came from, but when the Germans had to retreat, they would not or could not take her with them.
Knowing how the French Underground would treat her, they left her with a rifle and several boxes of ammunition. They were all laid out in the loft, where she had a clear view of the road, and written in German the instructions to shoot until she was dead, as the French Underground would make her wish she was.
I know nobody did much talking of this incident, nor was very much eaten that evening at supper time. But that is war, a lesson hard to swallow. I have never heard anyone talk of this incident ever!