First in Line: The Incredible Life of Leonard Stick

By Hilda Morrow and Steve Bartlett

First in Line: The Incredible Life of Leonard Stick documents the life of Leonard Stick, a distinguished war veteran, lawman and federal politician who was the ‘first’ in many historically significant events throughout his lifetime. Stick was the first man to enlist with the Newfoundland Regiment, regional No. 1, when it was reconstructed at the outbreak of WWI. He was also a member of the First Five Hundred, also known as the Blue Puttees and fought in the Battle of Beaumont Hamel. He was promoted to sergeant on September 21, 1914. Leonard survived the war and became the first commanding officer of the Newfoundland Rangers. He then entered politics and found himself in Ottawa as one of the first MPs Newfoundlanders elected after Confederation. Leonard Stick passed away on December 7, 1979 at age 87. His is a story of sacrifice and service.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Breakwater Books Ltd
• Release date: Sep 15, 2015
• ISBN: 9781771030878

Hilda Morrow

Hilda Morrow is the daughter of Leonard Stick. She currently resides in Grand Falls-Windsor, Newfoundland where she is a retired educator.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

My father, Leonard Stick, was quite reserved and never boasted about his lifetime achievements. As a father he left most of our upbringing to our mother. He worked at his various careers, Mom ran the home.

He seldom talked about his war experiences, but his two photo albums tell their own story. When talking to W.B. Tucker who served in India in World War II, they were comparing stories and experiences. (This was in the late 1960s.) Walter Tucker suggested to Dad he write of his experiences. Dad’s reply, Who would believe me? That was Dad’s way. He could not write about himself.

He was a good father, doing what he could for us. If we were interested, he included us in his recreational activities, especially trouting, or spending a day in the country and having a boil-up.

We are all very proud of him and all that he did in his life.

Hilda Morrow

INTRODUCTION

The realization came in April 2012 while walking the trenches of Beaumont-Hamel.

I’ve got to do something to remember the Newfoundlanders who fought here, I told myself.

As a journalist and writer, the best, most obvious way to remember the Newfoundland Regiment was to write something.

But what? A lot has been written and said about the Blue Puttees. What could I do that was different?

A few months later, Creative Book Publishing’s Donna Francis asked me to come into her office.

She showed me a manuscript. It was about Leonard Stick, the first man to sign up for the Regiment in 1914.

Knowing I wanted to do something relating to World War I, Donna asked me to have a look at it, to see if I was interested in co-authoring a book on Stick with his daughter, Hilda Morrow.

I read Hilda’s manuscript with great interest.

This is the project I’ve been looking for, I soon concluded. There’s not much written on him, and Stick lived an amazing life.

Hilda and I soon met and the project began.

But right in the middle of it, I took on a new job, one with a whole different set of demands.

At first, the new gig took my focus away from the book, but after a few months, researching and writing the life of Leonard Stick became a great escape.

Perhaps because it was so challenging.

Stick may have lived a large life, with incredible claims to fame, but he left little reflection about what he had done or where he had been.

I dug up whatever I could, and using Hilda’s manuscript and Stick’s personal records, I began piecing his story together.

Eventually, after so much time thinking about Leonard Stick, after spending so many late nights scratching my head, I began feeling like we were old friends.

I wish I could have met him and asked about so many things. The Somme? The Newfoundland Rangers? Confederation?

Thankfully, though, I did have the good fortune to meet his daughter Hilda and write this book with her. She’s been a wonderful partner on this project. My hope is others will read our work and acknowledge her father as a noteworthy figure in this province’s history.

Steve Bartlett

1.

The old city was ablaze. A small fire that started at a barn near the corner of Freshwater and Pennywell roads was spreading rapidly across St. John’s, ripping through every structure in its wake. Firemen had little water and subsequently no luck stopping the inferno. Their efforts were tangled by a string of errors and obstacles. A water tank near the barn had not been refilled after a training exercise and water pressure was low. Earlier in the day, the water in the neighbourhood had been shut off for city crews to lay pipe. The firefighters had also forgotten their axes and were unable to slow the fire by knocking down buildings in its path. Weeks of dry weather and strong winds only fanned the flames — and the destruction.

Panic spread faster than the fire. People scurried away from the blaze with their valuables. Some put their belongings into churches, confident — mistakenly so, in many cases — the stone structures would stand up to the flames. While some tried protecting what they had, others started taking what wasn’t theirs and began looting downtown shops. Boats moored at St. John’s harbour were untied and moved away from the wooden wharves, which were quickly igniting.

By the next morning, the fire had finally burned out. It was a dawn of destruction, with the daylight revealing the smoldering aftermath of the worst fire in the history of a city flattened by flames on numerous occasions, mostly recently 1819 and 1846. Most of the east end, including the just-looted commercial district on Water and Duckworth streets, was burned to the ground.

Among the lost structures were the Anglican Cathedral of St. John the Baptist, the Supreme Court and the police station. The Newfoundland Savings Bank also sustained heavy damage.

The Reverend Moses Harvey went for a walk that day and later wrote, as quoted in the Encyclopedia of Newfoundland and Labrador’s internet version: "It was heart rendering. Nothing visible for a mile from Devon Row but chimneys and fallen and tottering walls.

"Where yesterday stood the homes of 15,000 people, there were only ashes and debris, or walls and chimney stalks, ghastly in their nakedness. The wrecks of the fanes [temples] of religion stood out, [their] broken walls pointing heavenward, as if in mournful protest against the desecration that had been wrought.

And the poor inhabitants, where were they? It made the heart ache to see the groups of men, women and children, with weary, blood-shot eyes and smoke-begrimed faces, standing over their scraps of furniture and clothing — some of them asleep on the ground from utter exhaustion — all with despondence depicted on their faces. They filled the parks and grounds around the city.

Almost 70 per cent of St. John’s had burned. Three people were dead.