In Memory of All Allied Forces who gave their lives for Freedom.
WW1, WW2, Korean War
& All other Wars the World has Suffered.



"They shall grow not old
As we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them,
Nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun
And in the morning
We will remember them".








Uncle Abby, as he was called all of his life, was just 21 years old when he died in France. He had no wife or children to mourn him. He is buried among his comrads, who so bravely gave their lives for "Our Freedom". On the back of his picture, has my Grandmother's handwriting. Pte. Albert Alexander Koshney died of wounds on August 6, 1944, he is buried in Caen, France. On the back the picture which shows his grave, it is stamped Pte. Albert Alexander Koshney, Beny sur Mer Canadian Cemetery, Plot VII, Row E, Grave 12.

He was a Private # L/102926. He served in The Black Watch (Royal Highland Regt.) of Canada.

He is buried at Reviers, which is a village 18 kil. east of Bayeux, 15 kil. north west of Caen and 4 kil. south of Courseulles-sur-Mer. The cemetery is on the north side of the main road 1 kil. east of Reviers.

Abby was very close to my Dad, being only about 10 months apart in age. He was a very avid hockey player who was offered to join a National Hockey Team after the War. That never happened. His loss was devestating for his family. At the time of his death he was in the "Infantry". He stepped on a mine. My Dad was in the "Tank Corp" just miles away. He rushed to his brother and held him in his arms weeping as Abby died. His death left a life time of grief for my Dad and his family. The picture of his grave above, was carried in my Grandpa's wallet everyday until he died in 1960. The original is very rumpled and weak textured, flaws were removed by paint shop pro.

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My Dad, Pte. Alphonse Richard Koshney. He was Abby's younger brother. He was only about 19 or 20 years old in these pictures. He ran away from home at 16 years old, joining the South Alberta Regiment in 1938. He lied about his age. My Grandpa hunted him down and brought him home, "by the scruff of his neck", so I'm told. Twice more he ran away and Grandpa had to bring him home! Finally, the Army agreed that if he wanted to join so bad, they let him stay and sent him overseas in 1939. He spent the entire War overseas. A Tank Driver all through the War, his last duty overseas, the tank he was driving had 5 men inside. Dad was sitting at the very top outside. The tank was blown up. All five men died inside tank. My Dad was the only survivor. That again was a very severe blow for my Dad. He was injured in the abdomen and suffered years of pain. He died very young at age 42, in 1965, which in a way, was a Blessing.

My Dad and Uncle Abby were in Operation Overlord, at Normandy on July 10th when Caen, France was liberated by Canadian troops. They then went on to Falaise Gap, to help liberate Paris. Uncle Abby was killed during one of these battles.

The 3rd Canadian Division landed on the north coast on June 6, 1944. 335 officers and men were killed in action of wounds on that day. This Cemetery has the men who gave their lives in the landing of Normandy Beach in the early stages of this campaign. The men who died in the later stages of the campaign are buried in Bretteville-sur-Laize Canadian War Cemetery. There are now 2,048, 1939-45 Commonwealth war casualties commemorated in this site. Of these, 1 person is unidentified. There is also 1 Foreign National Casualty.

By the end of this campaign, Operation Overlord, allied casualties numbers were very high: 150,000 troops, 1,500 tanks, 5,300 ships and landing craft, 12,000 aircraft and 20,000 airborne troops. On June 6th, 170,000 Canadian soldiers and over 5,000 ships amassed for the liberation of occupied Europe.


IN FLANDERS FIELDS

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

*Special Note Albert Alexander Koshney died August 6, 1944 10 years later... My brother/Dad's eldest son, Richard Albert Koshney was born on August 6, 1954!


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