You save Toppy's VCSUN READERS HELP RAISE $300,000 TO KEEP HIS MEDAL IN CANADA

WELL, WE did it. And we did it without Ottawa's help, thank you very much. Or, rather, Toronto Sun readers and other Canadians did it -- raised $300,000 to buy the Victoria Cross won by Paratrooper Fred Topham in World War II, to ensure it remains in perpetuity in the National War Museum.

And there's money left over, maybe $30,000, to go into a fund to ensure that when future VCs or medals important to our heritage are put up for auction, they stay in Canada.

Wasn't the price demanded by the estate of Toppy's late widow $275,000 for his VC?

Yes, but there was a wrinkle that, frankly, we didn't know about when we joined the campaign started by the 1st Canadian Parachute Battalion Association to save the VC from being sold in Britain. It seems the estate's executors wanted any monies donated over $275,000 to go to them.

As it is, the 1st Can Para Association raised $225,000. With the Sun's $75,000, it leaves a surplus of $25,000 and counting, raised by Sun readers that will go into a fund to "rescue" the next Canadian VC being auctioned.

Gratifying to Jan De Vries, president of the 1st Can Para Association, is that the government wasn't involved in the fundraising -- a view we share, although a belated offer by Heritage Canada to top-off any shortfall was appreciated.

"Our association has never accepted money from government, and it's thanks to the value system and support of Canadians that we didn't need to for Toppy's VC," De Vries said.

All across Canada, people from every walk of life seemed to realize how precious this VC is to our heritage.

People gave generously and fervently -- sometimes in memory of a relative who died in the war, sometimes just to say "thank-you" to those who served.

Of nearly a million people who wore their country's uniform in World War II, only 16 Canadians won the VC -- the world's most revered and democratic award for valour in the face of the enemy.

Topham, a genuinely modest man (as most VC winners seem to be), died in 1974 as a Toronto Hydro worker.

When his widow died, her side of the family wanted money and retrieved Toppy's VC, which had been on loan to the war museum, and put it up for auction.

Raising $300,000 was a daunting task for a bunch of vets, now mostly in their 80s and planning to soon wrap up their association, which has memorialized the battalion's heroism across Canada, the U.S. and Europe.

Friends of the 1st Paras pitched in and raised the bulk of the money, but were stalled before the Sun joined the campaign. It was touch-and-go for a while.

The federal government originally brushed off requests that it participate to ensure this unique symbol of our wartime heritage stay in Canada.

The tremendous public support for rescuing Toppy's VC persuaded Liza Frulla of Heritage Canada to say any shortfall would be topped-off by the government.

Many Canadians, and especially veterans and those who gave, resented the government's tardiness and wanted to raise the money without government help.

People seem to realize when government jumps on a bandwagon, it often wants the driver's seat. Why couldn't government see the issue from the start? Why indeed? But they rarely do.

So it's people (rich and poor), and businesses (big and small), and institutions (public and private) that recognized the significance of keeping Toppy's VC in Canada: Diverse groups like Toronto City Hall, the police association, firefighters, various Canadian Legions, Masonic lodges, local pubs, elementary schools, media celebrities, pensioners, all joined the cause.

The Sun's Save the VC campaign was launched by Editor-in-Chief Jim Jennings, and the rest of the Sun Media chain joined in.

Personally, I'm pleased we now have a financial reserve for the next time a VC or medals important to our heritage go on auction. We -- Canada -- almost lost the wartime medals of John McRae (In Flander's Fields) when government wasn't interested.

Government also shrugged when the World War II valour medals of Tommy Prince were for sale -- our most gallant aboriginal soldier in that conflict.

Rather than the government ponying up cash when such medals are auctioned, I wonder why a tax rebate can't be given to those who donate valuable medals. It's better than joining a campaign late.

"On March 24, 1945, after parachuting behind enemy lines, Corporal Frederick "Toppy" Topham, while tending to a wounded soldier, witnessed two other battlefield medics killed while attending to a patient. Seeing this, Corporal Topham risked his own life and rescued the wounded paratrooper while intense fighting continued around him. Despite suffering a gunshot to the face, Corporal Topham began to assist as many of the wounded as possible and refused treatment for his own wounds. As if these actions were not enough, later that day, he encountered a machine gun carrier that had been hit by enemy shelling. Topham, unaided, pulled three wounded soldiers from the wreckage while ammunition exploded around him. Using his skills, he managed to save two of the three soldiers. After receiving treatment for his wounds, Topham returned to duty and for the rest of that day tended to the wounded."
http://www.city.toronto.on.ca/ems/current_events/2004_topham.htm

It is illegal to purchase a Medal of Honor here in the US, but Britain and Canada have not adopted similar laws.

A few months ago, I read about another Victoria Cross that was auctioned off. It had been awarded to an airman whose Lancaster bomber had been hit over Germany, setting one of its engines on fire. He crawled out onto the wing (while they were still a couple of miles up) with a fire extinguisher and tried to douse the flames. Unfortunately, a German fighter began attacking them and he was forced to jump off the wing to avoid the machinegun fire. The rest of the crew then bailed out of the crippled bomber, and survived the war in a POW camp.

I don't know that story. The one that I do know was Pilot Officer Andrew Charles Mynarski. Here is his citation:

Citation
Pilot Officer Mynarski was the mid-upper gunner of a Lancaster aircraft, detailed to attack a target at Cambrai in France, on the night of 12th June 1944. The aircraft was attacked from below and astern by an enemy fighter and ultimately came down in flames.
As an immediate result of the attack, both port engines failed. Fire broke out between the mid-upper turret and the rear turret, as well as in the port wing. The flames soon became fierce and the captain ordered the crew to abandon the aircraft.
Pilot Officer Mynarski left his turret and went towards the escape hatch. He then saw that the rear gunner was still in his turret and apparently unable to leave it. The turret was, in fact, immovable, since the hydraulic gear had been put out of action when the port engines failed, and the manual gear had been broken by the gunner in his attempts to escape.
Without hesitation, Pilot Officer Mynarski made his way through the flames in an endeavour to reach the rear turret and release the gunner. Whilst so doing, his parachute and his clothing, up to the waist, were set on fire. All his efforts to move the turret and free the gunner were in vain. Eventually the rear gunner clearly indicated to him that there was nothing more he could do and that he should try to save his own life. Pilot Officer Mynarski reluctantly went back through the flames to the escape hatch. There, as a last gesture to the trapped gunner, he turned towards him, stood to attention in his flaming clothing and saluted, before he jumped out of the aircraft. Pilot Officer Mynarski's descent was seen by French people on the ground. Both his parachute and his clothing were on fire. He was found eventually by the French, but was so severely burned that he died from his injuries.
The rear gunner had a miraculous escape when the aircraft crashed. He subsequently testified that, had Pilot Officer Mynarski not attempted to save his comrade's life, he could have left the aircraft in safety and would, doubtless, have escaped death.
Pilot Officer Mynarski must have been fully aware that in trying to free the rear gunner he was almost certain to lose his own life. Despite this, with outstanding courage and complete disregard for his own safety, he went to the rescue. Willingly accepting the danger, Pilot Officer Mynarski lost his life by a most conspicuous act of heroism which called for valour of the highest order.'

The tailgunner escaped when the un-piloted aircraft bellied into a field and a wing struck a tree, tearing itself off and spinning the fuselage around, bleeding off the forward velocity.

Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.