The End

Chapter 16  The Daily British Whig

Sharp to Serve Year, Then Be Cashiered

Court-Martial So Punishes Former Casualty Officer of M.D. No. 3

     Kingston April 16. = Major Sharp, Casualty Officer of this district, who disappeared last August and was apprehended in New York in January, and who was tried by Court Martial some days ago, will have to serve a year in Burwash Prison, and in addition to this will be cashiered from the service according to the finding of the Court Martial, which was promulgated this afternoon. Sharp was charged with being absent without leave while on active service.

Deems Sentence is Excessive

Kingston Paper Declares the Minister Should Save Major Sharpe

 Kingston April 17, ==The Whig, in an editorial today, says: Public opinion appears to be that the military court martial sentence of a year in prison given Major W. J. Sharpe former Casualty Officer, for absence without leave, is decidedly excessive. major Sharp's confinement under arrest, and his unfortunate position are enough punishment and disgrace without his being sent to prison with forgers, thieves and the like. The Whig does not propose to remain silent at such a time as this, when an officer who has faced death overseas for his country is to be degraded by being sentenced to prison for deserting an easy home service post in a comfortable armouries office because it happens that the post is under the direction of the military authorities instead of perhaps, the Military Hospital Commission. The post is of the kind given to returned and disabled soldiers. From a military point of view the action of Major Sharpe may appear inexcusable, but there are those who hold that a prison term at this time is out of place. it is up to the Minister of Militia to wipe out the sentence". 

Major W. J. Sharp Receives Clemancy

His Sentance Commuted to One years Detention at Burwash Farm

  Quebec April 29 - It was announced here yesterday afternoon at the permanent court martial that is holding sessions in Quebec city that the sentence of Major W. J. Sharp of Kingston (Ont) Military District, wo was recently sentenced to tow years in jail for desertion from the army while on active service has been commuted to one year's detention at the Burwash Industrial Farm. The clemency of the Governor General in Council was appealed to on behalf of the Major and his excellent record in the military services was found sufficient to justify this reduction of his penalty.

Tugwood looked at the assembled 21sters and said “Well lads, it worked. Thanks to all of you for your efforts on behalf of Major Sharp. Your letters and visits to the Minister of Militia have turned the trick.  He’s not going to end up in prison and there is a Governor General’s order to reduce his sentence to one year. I hear from HEP that they may even dispose of that on humanitarian grounds. Well done comrades.”

Quiet smiles filled  the meeting room and on agreement to adjourn, they headed for the 12 Star around the corner.

Comrade McComb lifted his glass and said in his Scottish burr
                   “Here’s to a damn fine wee Scot---Mr Sharp”

                             “Mr Sharp”, they responded.

Chapter 17 The Iron Cross

Jesse clung tightly to Sharp’s hand as she sat by his bed in their Kingston home.  “I’m here” she whispered. Each of Sharp’s inhalations was an effort and he smiled faintly.

“Thanks, old girl,” he rasped, “You’re a pip!”

“You’ve kept the faith with all the soldiers in your family.” Jesse said.

Sharp struggled to breathe and then Jesse saw that his chest had stopped moving.

“Good night my darling “she said.

Percy came into the room and stood behind Jesse as she cried quietly at Sharp’s side. Putting her hand on Jesse’s shoulder she said “How much we owe this poor brave man.”

When he arrived in Canada he was surprised at the way he was treated. As a former enemy of the Dominion, he thought he would be followed and watched continually. He didn’t know that every request for a visa from a German was reviewed by the Dominion Police and that Carroll and Percy had personally seen to it that Spitzbart had no problem.

He walked slowly through the mist of an October day. It filtered through the maples and each footstep darkened the light frost on the fallen leaves. Cataraqui Cemetery was peaceful this early in the morning. Finally the German stopped and turning to the stone he read:

William Sharp

Born 26 August 1886

Died 12 May 1919

How Much We Owe

“Well---Kamarade” he murmured.

He stood quietly for a moment, then raising his hand, he saluted. From his pocket, he removed a small case. Opening the cover, he placed the medal on the top of the stone. He saluted again and then turned abruptly and walked away between the gravestones and through the autumn woods. At the cemetery gate Percy took his arm and they walked down the hill, across the bridge and  toward the town. 


The End

Kamarad

Chapter 15- Kamarad

     His only retreat from that horrid world, Spitzbart observed, was when he would mutter “Jesse, Jesse sorry old girl” and then relax and once again enter a deeper sleep. Passing in and out of consciousness, Sharp was barely aware of his surroundings. His delirium and pain merged into a strange mixture of images, including his fear when a face with a white goatee kept appearing and retreating in his vision or was it all in his mind a replay of the drama he’d recently been through?

His time in the trenches and No-mans Land somehow became mixed with the anxiety produced by that face.  He could clearly see the side of the trench with the ladder leading into the terror on the other side of the parapet. Shells burst around his hiding place and he thrashed to find a safe place to avoid the screaming pieces of shrapnel. He kept beating the bed clothing with his fists, swearing at the rats in his fever ridden mind.

Another time he wakened gagging and sputtering as he seemed to be unable to fix his gas mask in place and found he was lying twisted on the floor. Dismembered and shattered bodies reappeared and danced in a strange procession across the room.   

     A cool cloth wiped the sweat from his face and eyes and gentle hands helped him back into bed. He took the drink offered him, lay back and soon lost consciousness.

     Eventually his keeper decided he was so ill that he called a doctor and explained that his friend was a returned Canadian soldier and was suffering from some strange condition. The doctor quickly diagnosed cirrhosis and, on looking at his chamber pot, suspected kidney disease. He said “I’m afraid he isn’t long for this world”

     Spitzbart wondered what to do. Clearly this enemy of his was in deep trouble, had a wife or sweet heart and should be returned to Canada and his home. More than three months went by, Christmas came and went and Spitzbart continued to care for Sharp.

     Here Carroll paused and looking at the assembled 21sters, said   “We must never forget that like many of us, some Germans fought in this war because they were patriots and it was their duty to serve their country. They didn’t hate us. They didn’t in fact, know us. Like our boys, they were there because it was the thing to do. As a German, you were obligated to do military service. Spitzbart, I believe, was a man caught in his county’s fight against the allies. His care for Sharp can only be that given by a most honourable man. “

     “We always took care of the wounded Germans” said Tugwood, “And I know that some of our boys were operated on by the German doctors. I remember a Cpl from Owen Sound who got a piece of shrapnel in his neck. He was picked up by the Germans, most of the shrapnel removed, the wound dressed and then exchanged for a wounded German we had. We weren’t always that kind to the Germans or they to us, when our blood was up, but we all realized we were brothers on opposite sides of a stupid war no one wanted.” Others in the room nodded in agreement and then turned to Carroll, indicating he should continue.

     As you may know, Pethswitherick and I stayed in New York looking for Sharp for several months, until we were called back by Ottawa. One day, after the armistice, our boss took us out for a meal. The courier who had accompanied Sharp had left the Dominion Police office and returned to her mother’s home in Kingston. We were surprised, but pleased, to see her. She ate with us very quietly and then said “Thanks for inviting me. It was ever so kind of you Sir. I was thinking of not coming, as it brings back so many sad memories. I still feel …” and she paused to gain control of her emotions, “I still feel that I let Mr. Sharp down.”

     We all sympathized with her, Pethswitherick and I especially, because we had failed to find Sharp and knew that he was a very ill man. We had spent days going to all the hospitals and doctors we could locate in New York but no trace of him. We even just simply walked the streets looking for him, exploring back alleys, soldier’s clubs etc. We continually annoyed the coroners at the city morgues. Every time they came across a John Doe body, we examined it . Jesse Sharp was in constant touch with us. It must have driven her crazy because we couldn’t tell her we weren’t seeking him as a fugitive but as a lost agent.

Then the courier said something that I shall never forget. She said “I have to go back to New York and look for him. Until I know if he is alive or dead, this will never end.” She sank back in her chair, biting her lip and twisting her napkin in her lap.

Well as you may have read, we did find him. It wasn’t through any great detecting on Pethswitherick’s part, as he was the officer who accompanied her, but again a matter of her dogged work to find her protector.

After checking out the corpses in the morgues and not finding his body, she and Pethswitherick started visiting the doctors again. He was very sick and he or who ever was looking after him, would likely have sought medical attention at some point. New York was affected by the Spanish flu to the same degree we were and the doctors who didn’t succumb to it, were worked off their feet. Even getting them to spend time looking through their records and maybe recalling a nephritis case, was grasping at a straw. But she persevered.

What ended her quest was meeting a doctor by chance at Coney Island. Pethswitherick noticed that she was looking worn out and seemed to have constant headaches. He suggested they take a day off looking for Sharp and visit Coney Island and just relax. It took some persuading. Once a woman has her mind made up, well you know the rest. Anyway they spent most of the morning wandering around the rides and other attractions and then stopped for lunch at a hot-dog stand. While they were there a customer started to choke. A man stepped up behind him, threw his arms around his upper stomach and jerked hard on his solar plexus area. The bite of hot dog flew from his mouth and the redness faded from his face. The victim was shaken, but was reassured by the doctor who attended that after a bit of rest, he’d be fine.

Pethswitherick and the girl started to walk away and then he turned and looking back said “Look at the man with the doctor!” 

Running up to them the girl cried “Sharp! You’re alive!”

He turned and looked at her and a great smile broke over his face. She was sorry to see that he had lost more weight from his already small frame and the yellow cast to his skin had deepened. Sharp explained to the doctor, that this young lady and her escort were friends from Canada and that everything was OK.

“What happened to you?” inquired Pethswitherick?

“Remember that guy with the goatee?”

“Yes I do”

“Well, you will find this hard to believe, but he found me collapsed on the street and took me to his rooms and looked after me. Through him I met Dr Austin here and he has looked after my health to the point where I’m able to be out a bit.”

Austin looked at them and said “Bill has a way to go yet, but I think he should be able to travel in a few weeks. I know he would like to get back to Kingston and Jesse.”

Sharp smiled and said “If she’ll have me anymore”

The girl grinned and said “You wouldn’t believe how much time effort she has put into keeping your case in front of the folks in Ottawa and the 21^st Btn.  General Hughes wife has kept after everyone to make sure that you are found. Your old commander and Col Pense, have been most approachable and have said they will do everything they can to help you”

“My case?” queried Sharp.

Pethswitherick shuffled uneasily and then said, “There is no easy way to put this Mr Sharp, but you will be charged with desertion.”

Sharp grimaced and then said “I think I knew that would happen”

“After that fellows”, continued Carroll, “it was a matter of my associate bringing Sharp back to Canada. You know what happened then.”

The Armouries - Kingston

The room was silent for a while. Tugwood looked at the men in the room and their faces were more sad than he had seen in a long time. Finally, he stood up and looking around the room, said “I would like a motion to adjourn this meeting.”

Kingston is a military town

Chapter 14 - Tugwood to the Rescue

18 April 1919

Kingston Daily Standard

Major W.J. S. Sharp Arrested in New York

Disappeared From Kingston August 2^nd --- For a While was Thought Drowned

(Canadian Press Despatch)

     Kingston December 18. – A dispatch received in this city from New York states that Major W. J. S. Sharp formerly Casualty Officer of Military District No. 3, has been placed under arrest in that city charged with desertion. Authorities in New York have communicated with the military authorities at Ottawa and are awaiting their instructions in connection with the case. Major Sharp will probably be brought to Kingston within a few days.

     Major Sharp disappeared from Kingston on Friday night, Aug 2^nd. On Saturday morning his clothing was found on the water front behind the GTR station at the old pump house.

                 Carroll shifted in his chair and Pethswitherick looked up as he put the paper down. “Well it looks like Henderson’s plan is finally ending”

                 “George”, said Carroll, “I just wish there was another way to deal with this”

                 George looked very upset and jumped to his feet. “We have got to see him OK in all this. Let the poor bugger die in peace”

                 Carroll nodded his head and said “From the time we started after him, I knew we would run into the military way of doing things. They don’t have any alternative. He will be court-martialed. Goodness knows what will be the result of that. I don’t think, seeing that the war is over, he would be shot, but he certainly won’t go free. In his condition in jail…..” Carroll shrugged his shoulders in resignation.

                 Pethswitherick said “Mrs. Sharp and Mrs. Hughes were in to see me this morning.”

                 “You mean Wm St Pierre’s wife?”

                 “Yes. She told me that Brig General Hughes was very upset by the whole affair and in spite of Sharp’s action, he felt he had suffered enough as a result of his service to the country and the whole matter should be dropped. I kind of agree.                 “Well, he’s certainly not in any condition to stand court martial”

                 Carroll stood up, put on his fedora and picked up his walking stick. “George, I’m going down to the club the 21^st has on Montreal Street.” 

                 George said “I’m coming with you”.

                 Kingston was a military town. Even though the war had ended in an Armistice, the streets still were populated with a mix of soldiers and the usual civilians. Carroll and his companion walked along through the crowds and going up the stairs to the second floor, opened the door to the 21ster’s club. As they opened the door, they heard “so when the 21^st arrives, we want to have the streets decorated and a fine meal to send the boys off home”

                 The mayor said “We can arrange to have the streets decorated. All the merchants will be encouraged to make sure the flags and bunting are well in place”

                 Carroll cleared his throat.

                 Alf Tugwood said “Yes Mr. Carroll”

                 “Sorry to interrupt chaps, but I think you know why I’ve come here tonight”

                 Tugwood  looked at the two Dominion policemen and smiled “It’s about Mr Sharp, I presume”

                 “Yes it is”

                 “Gentlemen, I think we owe Mr. Sharp, an officer in our battalion, a fair consideration”. The other members of the 21^st Return Committee looked expectedly at Carroll.

                 Carroll said” I am not here as a member of the Dominion Police. I am here because Mr. Sharp, I believe, will be hung out to dry simply as a matter of military procedure. As you know he disappeared back in August last year. While it appears to the public that he deserted, you and I both know that a man of his family background, military pride and service to Canada, would not do that without some good cause. I know what that good cause was.

                 As you know George and I were the investigators. Actually before disappearance we knew that a dispatch had been sent by courier from the office in Ottawa. The courier was a young lady, whose name I cannot reveal. She was routed through Kingston, closely pursued by the enemy. “

                 “The enemy?” said one of the gentlemen.

                 “Not all the war was fought overseas. We had a continual string of spies and espionage agents come to Canada. In the later years of the war, they came through Canada to get into the US. Fortunately we caught most of them. The ones we didn’t catch, left their mark on our industries and power supplies. You doubtless have read about some of their deeds suspected or otherwise. In confidence, gentlemen, I can tell you that we even had one of their number in our own department. We left him there and fed him misinformation, but at times his presence tipped off the Germans that a courier was being sent. That’s what happened in this case.”

                 “But how does Sharp figure in this?” asked Tugwood.

                 “When the courier’s pursuers got too close, she simply walked in and asked for help. Mr. Sharp could do no other, even though he was and remains deathly ill.   He knew that he had only a limited time to live. Yet, when she required his help, he didn’t hesitate. He set out a means of leaving a red herring trail for her pursuers and for the military by faking his own death. Arming himself with a captured Mauser pistol he joined her as her protector and left for New York where she was to pass the note onto the next section.

                 Tugwood looked at Carroll and said “What was the note about?”

                 Carroll hesitated and then replied “If I was to tell you, I’d be breaking a great confidence. This matter is sealed until well after we are long gone. It was that important. I believe, however, that it did help to end the war”

                 “Nuff said” smiled Tugwood.

                 “When was the note delivered to New York?” asked another 21ster.

                 “Within days of them leaving here” Carroll replied

                 “Then why didn’t Sharp return right away”

                 Carroll smiled and said “That is a most interesting story. And for the next hour Carroll recounted what happened after Sharp disappeared in New York.

Samaritan

Chapter 13 - Harrison of the Secret Service

                 “Actually the name is O’Hara but I changed it when I joined the President’s staff”, the ruddy faced man said. He paused and relit his pipe.

                 Carroll and Pethswitherick sat side by side across the table from Percy and the agent in the dining room of the Chatham. Percy’s hand and arm were bandaged but she seemed in no pain.

                 “Have they found Mr. Sharp?”, she asked

                 Carroll shifted uncomfortably “Percy, I am really sorry I left him on his own. He seemed to come to and was sitting up in Houdini’s dressing room assuring me that he would be alright. What is the matter with him?’

                 Percy said “I’m pretty certain it has to do with the war. I don’t know if it was because he drank or because he was wounded or gassed. He doesn’t even seem clear on it. He told me he was diagnosed with nephritis and with cirrhosis of the liver. I think he was sent home to die.”       

                 Harrison sucked in his breathe and said “I had an uncle that died of cirrhosis but it was definitely the gin that got him. Not a pleasant thing. Poor bugger. We must try to find him because he will need help.”

                 “Things are a fine mess”, said George morosely “I lost the Goatee Man and Sharp is missing”

                 “Don’t worry George” said Carroll “we will find him.”

                 The tall buildings in Lower Manhattan seemed to soar upwards on either side like a very deep trench. Sharp’s breath was shallow and quick and his eyes darted back and forth and then to the top of the trench. Sweat poured off him and his aching sides and back caused him to halt and lean against the building. Passersby glanced at him and then stepped around with a frown. Sharp continued his lurching walk until he fell, the trench swirling about his head and he once again was smothered by the explosion.

                  “Mr. Sharp, Mr. Sharp” that voice sounded a little familiar. His eyes opened and he started to try to get up, but a gentle hand pushed him back to the pavement. “You just lie still.”

                 He struggled, but the German held him down and quietly said “I will see you right, Mr. Sharp. Just relax.” Unable to do anything else, Sharp lay back. Spitzbart had taken his coat off and it now provided a pillow for Sharp’s head. After a moment or two, Spitzbart asked “Do you have medication?” Sharp fumbled at the inside pocket of his coat and Spitzbart reaching in, found the little box of pills. He placed one under Sharp’s tongue.

                 “What do you intend?” Sharp asked

                 “You need help, Mr. Sharp”

                 “Why are you ….” Sharp groaned.

                 “Never mind that now”, and going to the pavement edge the German gestured for a cab. Helping the trembling Canadian in, Spitzbart gave an address and they drew away. Sharp remembered little as he slipped in and out of consciousness. Spitzbart kept reassuring him that everything would be alright until they drew up in front of a brownstone in a line of very similar homes. Paying the cabbie, the German helped Sharp up the steps and into the row house.

                 “Where are we?” mumbled Sharp

                 “A friend’s place” said Spitzbart

                 “I must let my people know where I am” Sharp said

                 “That will be later. Now you rest”. The German lay Sharp down on a bed in a back room. He put a coverlet over the sweating man and left the room. The dark again oozed into Sharp’s mind.