The following poem was written for my father, Frederick J. Hewitt, in 1943
by his brother-in-law, Jack McRobbie, probably in Flin Flon, Manitoba:

TO FRED

I'm thinking of Fred, my wife's big brother
He's a long way home from his darling mother
He's overseas with the R.C.A.
Lord only knows how long he'll be away.

He liked to work with radios and lights
And loved to take in all of the sights
He always carried his camera too
So he always had something to do.

But now he's taken himself a wife
And I hope they'll be happy all of their life
For Fred's a good sport and lots of fun
And he thinks of every-thing under the sun.

I hope Fred leaps and loads of luck
That he will have the fortune to duck
Any shell or bomb or airplane
So that he will come back to us again.

Let's hope the war is short and fast
And that the enemy cannot last
And then our boy won't have to roam
Away from friends and home sweet home.

Jack McRobbie
1943