When Peter Luggi researched for records of his people's service overseas, he found stories of Stellat'en Second World War veterans in pieces: in the words of sons, nieces, friends; in the black and white photos of men in uniform; and in the rare documents that showed they were there.
Luggi, a history aficionado, would like to see more written of Canada's aboriginal veterans.
"It's the untold story," he said.
At least 3,000 status Indians, including 72 women, fought in the Second World War, according to Veteran Affairs Canada.
Canada did not track the number of Inuit, Mtis or other First Nations who fought, so "the actual numbers were no doubt much higher," it noted.
More than 200 died and at least 18 soldiers were decorated for bravery in action, including Dominic "Dick" Patrick of Saik'uz First Nation in Vanderhoof (see story, page 3).
That participation is slightly less than the First World War, when one in three "able-bodied Canadian Indian men" enlisted, according to a 2005 Veteran Affairs publication called Native Soldiers, Foreign Battlefields.
That amounted to about 4,000 volunteers, but it too noted an accurate number could not be determined as the department was mostly concerned with Status Indians.
Originally government policy didn't allow aboriginals to serve overseas, which was soon cancelled in 1915 after the high enlistment and the need for troops, the 2005 report said.
That support was far from unanimous.
"Some band councils refused to help the Allied war effort unless Great Britain acknowledged their bands' status as independent nations. Such recognition was not granted," the report said.
When Canada turned to conscription in 1917, many leaders argued Aboriginal people should be excluded and again in 1942, when compulsory service was introduced, some bands responded with protest marches and petitions to Ottawa, the report said.
During the Second World War, Veterans Affairs Canada acknowledged "the extra challenges that (indigenous veterans) had to face and overcome makes their achievements all the more notable."
Those challenges included returning to a country that didn't grant them the right to vote until 1960. Status Indians could choose franchise, but it would mean giving up land rights.
Relatives and friends of aboriginal veterans said the men never spoke of discrimination overseas.
Rather, they felt respected for their contributions, but that changed when they came home.
Dick Patrick fought against his treatment as a second-class citizen, said his sister Arlene John.
He insisted on going to a Vanderhoof shop that refused him service. For that, Patrick was arrested and released 11 times, and even sent to Okalla prison in Burnaby.
"He was defiant and he kept going back. As soon as he was released, he would come back to Vanderhoof and he'd do it again. He said 'I fought for my people'" John recalled of Patrick, who died in 1980.
"He opened the door for us natives," John said.
"When he came home he didn't act tough, he just treated people with respect. Native people, they were treated as second-class citizens but you know they were the one that were relied on (in the war) because of their skills in the bush."
Patrick was also a survivor of Lejac Indian Residential School.
His name appears on a poster, date unknown, listing 48 "former pupils" as part of Canada's fighting forces, "for king and country."
Among them, Stellat'en, Saik'uz, Lheidli and more, most noting the English names for their place of birth.
"When you look at that and you hear about all the horrors that went on in Lejac school in our case, but in residential schools. They went through that and once they were done there," Luggi said, and after enlisting experienced the tragedy of war.
"Two traumas," Luggi said.
"And when they come back to their country they're not allowed to sit in restaurants or sit in bars or vote."
In Europe, meanwhile, they would not have been denied service.
Geraldine Gunanoot's Stellat'en uncles Freddy, Joe and Fraser Isaac all fought in the Second World War.
Gunanoot remembered them being proud of their service, but disheartened by how they were treated when they came back to the Fraser Lake reserve.
"My uncles were very, very proud people. They served their country and they wanted the best for their country.
"After the war, they were totally treated like they were beggars. They were not welcomed back on reserve," she said.
Many found they had lost status after fighting overseas because "the Indian Act specified that Indians absent from the reserve for four years were no longer Indians," according to the B.C.-based Indigenous Corporate Training Inc., founded by Bob Joseph.
They were also restricted from the same benefits offered to non-aboriginal veterans due to Indian Act restrictions, Joseph wrote.
"The lives of numerous aboriginal veterans ended in despair and poverty," he wrote.
Additionally, many had to become enfranchised before they could sign up, "which meant that when they returned to their home communities, they no longer had Indian status," Joseph noted.
"It was the government effort to remove us from the land," said current Stellat'en Chief Archie Patrick, adding many of the survivors struggled with alcohol, which was allowed to those with the vote, but forbidding for status Indians.
Gunanoot's uncle Joe would always insist on "their inherent right to live off the land," recalled Gunanoot.
It was a drastic change from the comraderie they experienced during the war, said Gunanoot's daughter, Master Cpl. Jerri-Ann Starrett.
"When they were over there, they were treated equally with those brothers beside them that they were fighting with," said Starret of her great-uncle's stories.
The way Archie Patrick sees it, it gave indigenous people an experience with equality they.
"You had a place in a society and you were contributing towards it," said Patrick, despite that they were still likely serving beneath higher-ranking white people.
"I think that power structure recognized their skills and ability and accepted them for that. It didn't matter what colour you were, if you were a good marksmen, you were a good marksmen."
That reality reflects a message Patrick tries to repeat: "give us the tools to do a job and we will do it."
But he doesn't see the war as being a catalyst for change in Canada.
"Once it was over, it was over and the people that contributed, the sacrifice they made was virtually forgotten."
In the words of Stellat'en Second World War veteran Antoine "Tony" Ketlo, written in 1994 months before he died, he fought for the hope of "peace of mind and freedom of speech and creed may be attained one day soon."
