Because of continual grumbling heard about rain in these early years of the 50’s, it seems fitting to include another Wainwright Warrior poem lamenting the incessant downpours that invariably plagued the troops in training and those attempting to cross a new camp under construction. Everything is Right as Rain in Wainwright by S/Sgt A.T. Smith There’s a village on the Prairies, in the Province of Alberta And the rain comes down in torrents over there, And the natives make their garments from the skins of local varmints, While they wear synthetic rubber underwear. When the sun comes out in glory as it does but once a year, All the village people gather in the Square. And they bring along their Grandma’s suntan lotion and their cameras, For to see the sun in Wainwright’s mighty rare. Now the streets are full of puddles and the roads are mighty muddy But the people down in Wainwright don’t despair. They just grab an umbrella and their Grandpapa’s hip waders, And act as if they didn’t have a care. Not a man has left this village in the past one hundred years for they cannot stand the sun, it gives them pain, And although you’ll not believe it, they so love their Aqua Pura, That they built the village streets without a drain! Now I’ve sailed the broad Atlantic from Newfie to the Horn But I’m damned if I can take the Wainwright storms, So I’m going to Sahara, or some other dusty desert Where the sun is shining brightly every morn. You native sons of Wainwright can have your inland sea, This sure ain’t my conception of a place for guys like me. You can have your floating sidewalks, and your Indian Rubber Pants For I have a fear of drowning and ain’t gonna take a chance.
This is a short excerpt from the Warrior, by Col Blimp (no doubt his pen name) mentioning changes other than just Camp Wainwright. Being British by parentage, I still believe in tradition and the old school tie. There are certain things that become associated with our lives and these things should be left as they are. Take Lifebuoy soap. When I was a child Mother used to scrub me every Saturday, and always that eight sided chunky bar of soap was my bath companion. So what happened? Somebody streamlined Lifebuoy! They changed the printing; they removed the raised oval; they hacked off its sharp corners. They even made it smell like shaving cream. It lost its aura of stodgy respectability and a bit of my childhood went floating down the drain. (He also mentions asking for “two by four” at the QM Stores. Remember? It was white flannelette, four inches by two inches with a bright red grid… for cleaning rifles…)