A Legacy of Poetry and the Written Word: Malcom Moncreif MacDonald

Crieff's wife Grace remembered receiving a poem written by her husband while he was in Italy when he was 22.  His family has continued to write and remember him and his contribution to the war effort.

Here is a poem written by Crieff's granddaughter that won First in The Royal Canadian Legion Ontario Provincial Command, Remembrance Day Literary Contest in the Intermediate Poem Level at Branch 383 on December 10, 1986.

Why Should I Remember?

Where is this place where wars were fought?

Tell me for I know it not.

Why is it that the poppies grow,

And men are buried row on row?

 

Two minutes silence passes by

To remember but I don't know why.

Why is the bugle playing so?

Tell me for I want to know.

 

I searched for answers from above

And something seemed to whisper love.

Love of family, Love of friends,

Love of freedom never ends.

 

Soldiers who deserved to live,

For our freedom their lives did give.

They fought the war to end all wars,

Remember this and fight no more.

 

Amanda MacDonald

I dedicate this poem to my grandfather Dr. M. M. MacDonald, A veteran of World War II

Amanda gave a copy of this poem to her grandfather for Christmas that year and he hung it in his office.

Crieff's great grandson also wrote an essay about his great grandfather.

What Remembrance Day Means to Me    

by: Matt MacDonald

When I think about Remembrance Day, the first thing that comes to my mind is my Great-Grandfather.  His name was Malcolm Moncrieff MacDonald.  Although he passed away back in 2000 when I was not quite three years old, I still remember a smiling man who always yelled, "Ouch, not so hard!" when I 'gave him five' and a man who loved his sailboat and had a big garden.  To me he was my "Pop-Pop", but to the military he was a former Pilot Officer of the Royal Canadian Air Force.

When Crieff was only a teenager, he joined the Royal Canadian Air Force without his parents' knowledge.  Understandably, they were quite upset as he was their only living son.  After training in Goderich, Ontario, he married his young bride and travelled to Europe to join the Second World War.

Crieff was stationed in England as well as Africa and Italy as s Spitfire fighter pilot for the Royal Canadian Air Force.  I have seen pictures of him that were published in local newspapers, sitting on a pile of bombs in Italy.  I've heard that he always was relieved to see the white cliffs of Dover on his return trip from a flying mission.  He knew then that he was almost back safely.  Crieff was also part of the D-Day Invasion, flying with the Royal Canadian Air Force on their second wave of attack.  Another picture shows his Spitfire that had been shot with anti-aircraft artillery.  Half of the tail was missing and it was a miracle that he could control it for a successful landing.

When Crieff left to join the war, his new bride was expecting a baby.   While overseas, his first son was born in 1941.   It took a while for the news of the birth to reach him.   My Great-Grandmother said that he and some fellow soldiers went out to celebrate and likely broke their curfew.  They ended up spending the night in some hay stacks before making it back to their base in the daylight.

He never talked much about his time in the war.  He did mention how bad he felt seeing the bombed out churches in England.  He said he tried to visit some relatives that lived in the area when he was stationed there.

When he returned to Canada, Western University in London, Ontario formed a special class for pilots that wanted to go through to become doctors.  Crieff joined this class and graduated in early 1950's.  He planned to start his own practice in London, Ontario, but his father  died the year he graduated so he took over his practice in Thedford, Ontario.  He remained a doctor in Thedford until he retired in 1994.

Remembrance Day means different things to everyone.  To me, it is another chance to think about how lucky I am to have had such a brave and caring Great-Grandfather.  I am very proud to be his great-grandson.