Regular dad was crack WWII code breaker
P.E.I.’s Cliff Stewart, seen above at a 2010 air show, worked behind enemy lines during the Second World War
and honed his skills with the likes of Ian Fleming, the author of the James Bond spy thrillers.
The National Post
Joe O'Connor
May 18, 2011
To his four kids, he was a regular dad with some irregular talents. Cliff Stewart could fix the family toaster in a blink. Radios, television sets, family cars — anything with wires that went on the fritz, and out came the tools.
“His ability to solve problems — his technical skills — he could always figure something out and make it work. He could literally fix anything,” said Tom Stewart, his eldest son.
To his family, Cliff Stewart was Dad, the super-whiz. But to his World War II comrades, Cliff Stewart was something else. Behind the extraordinary technical talents around the house was an extraordinary secret, a tale of intrigue and espionage that featured Mr. Stewart at the centre of it as a super spy and code breaker.
It was an occupation he never, ever, spoke about, not until the last years of a long life that ended when Mr. Stewart passed away at his home in suburban Charlottetown last weekend.
He was 91.
At his funeral Wednesday he will be remembered as a grandfather, a good friend, a colleague and loyal employee in the auto shop at D.C.D Auto Electric, a water-skiing coach and a volunteer fire captain.
Cliff Stewart
The national Post (Provided by the Stewart family)
But when he was 19, and a farm boy, and a budding ham-radio genius, two RCMP officers rapped on the door of the family homestead in Hampshire, P.E.I, and informed young Clifton that the British secret service was looking to recruit him. Even Mr. Stewart’s son isn’t entirely sure how his father came to their attention, but it was 1939, and he was cracker-smart and good with a ham radio and electronics.
So off the young Canadian went to the Rockefeller Center in New York, where a room full of handpicked, sworn-to-secrecy early electronics aces combined to build “Rock X.”
The gadget enabled high-ranking officials, such as U.S. President Franklin D. Roosevelt, to transmit high-volume encrypted messages to their British counterparts (think: Sir Winston Churchill).
Mr. Stewart’s next wartime stop was Camp X, a top-secret training facility in southern Ontario where he honed his craft with budding assassins, demolitions experts, frogmen, forgers, a man called Intrepid and Ian Fleming, a British naval intelligence trainee and future author of the James Bond books.
“It took quite a bit of training not to jump at a gunshot,” Mr. Stewart said in a 2009 documentary about his life. “It kept quite a lot of us alive. As the instructors told us, [the Germans] might not be shooting at you.”
And if they were not shooting at you, and you became spooked by the sound of gunfire and gave away your position, a nervous spy would be a dead spy.
Mr. Stewart took part in several missions behind enemy lines. A team of agents would parachute in to an appointed spot with the radio expert from P.E.I. hefting a briefcase containing a coding machine.
Information was gathered. Messages sent. And missions accomplished, or not. And the spies, those who came home in one piece, were bound by the British Secrets Act never to talk about it.
It was not until Mr. Stewart was in his 80s and his old comrades began dying in droves that he finally started relating juicy tidbits to his children about his previous life.
“You might be sitting down to supper and talking about something like parachuting, and if you would ever do it, and he would say something like: ‘You would never get me to jump out of a plane for fun,’ ” Tom Stewart says.
“And then he would start telling a story about being dropped behind enemy lines. I knew he had worked out of Camp X and in New York and San Francisco, but I never thought he was over in the field of engagement.
“He would tip his hand a bit, and you would see a glimpse, but he would never really give you much more than a glimpse.”
He was a spy, after all.
Camp X closed in 1949. Mr. Stewart was offered a job with the CIA but his wife, Hilda, had other ideas. The family returned home to Charlottetown where the ex-secret agent became just another blue-collar guy working at the Batt and McRae Auto Electric Company.
In civilian life he was free to show off, and delighted in water skiing — from a water start — with a lit cigar clamped in his teeth. Mr. Stewart kept working, tinkering and fixing cars for D.C.D. Auto Electric until past his 90th birthday. A volunteer firefighter, and a fire captain once upon a time, he drove the antique pumper in Charlottetown’s annual Santa Claus parade well into his 80s.
“In fact,” says his son. “The old pumper is going to be his funeral coach [on Wednesday]. He was a volunteer chief for a number of years.”
He was an ordinary man, with some extraordinary talents.
National Post
joconnor@nationalpost.com
'Spy from P.E.I.' Cliff Stewart dies
Published on May 16, 2011
Guardian photo by Brian McInnis
Cliff Stewart poses with a Lysander during an airshow in 2010. Stewart died Saturday in his Sherwood home at age 91.
Funeral Wednesday for Second World War veteran
Clifton Elmer Stewart, better known as Cliff, a Canadian spy recruited by the British during the Second World War, died over the weekend at his Sherwood home.
Known by his catchphrase, “the spy from P.E.I.,” Stewart was also the Sherwood fire chief for a number of years and a Holland College instructor.
Stewart, 91, died on Saturday, May 14.
His work during the Second World War was honoured by the Canadian Owners and Pilots Association (COPA) during a fly-in event at Slemon Park in Summerside last summer.
One of the aircrafts, a restored Lysander that hadn’t been flown in 64 years, was dedicated to Stewart. It was the same style of plane he flew in during missions in the Second World War.
Flying into enemy territory, the plane would drop off Stewart, who would set up radio communications. The plane would turn around and Stewart would grab onto the aircraft’s moving strut, which would carry him back to safety.
The five or six trips in Europe on the Lysander, which Stewart described last summer, are the bulk of what little is known about Stewart’s missions. He was bound by an oath of secrecy under the British Secrets Act.
Tom Stewart, Cliff’s oldest son, said the air show and honour of the restored Lysander kept his father going throughout his final year.
“One of the things that got him through, was looking forward to that event in June,” he said. “He had a glow for the month after.”
But Stewart’s life didn’t begin or end with the Second World War.
He was born and raised in P.E.I., only leaving the province during the war years to live in New York and Camp X in Ontario.
He married Hilda Jewell in 1942 and, when he returned to P.E.I. in the late 1940s, he began working at the Batt and MacRae Auto Electric Company in Charlottetown.
He also became involved as a volunteer in the Sherwood Fire Department around the late 1950s, eventually becoming chief for more than 10 years throughout the 1970s and ’80s.
Stewart’s summers were often spent at a cottage he’d built in York Point.
Tom said his father could often be seen at the cottage, taking others for rides in his boat.
“I’d say there were probably 500 people who learned to water ski from him,” he said. “He had that boat since the 1970s and it’s found hundreds of people in it.”
His passion for boats led him to a volunteer job fixing watercrafts with Stu Smith.
Tom said his father was known for being a go-to guy when anything had to be fixed.
“Anything from radios to TVs to video recorders,” he said. “His nature was that, if anybody needed anything fixed, he was the person people came to. It seemed he could fix anything.”
Stewart’s passion for fixing things led him to another job, where he showed others how to make repairs.
In the 1980s, past the age of 60, Stewart became an instructor in automotive and electrical repairs at Holland College.
Stewart kept working past retirement age and held a job at D.C.D. Auto Electric until just after turning 90.
Tom said his father loved to work and felt that staying active and the relationships he developed with co-workers are what kept him going.
“He loved life, he found being involved in things and other people’s lives, in terms of being able to help out.”
Stewart is resting at the Belvedere Funeral Home, where the funeral will be held on Wednesday at 10:30 a.m.
Visitation is Tuesday from 2 to 4 and 7 to 9 p.m.
Memorial donations may be made to the Queen Elizabeth Hospital.
Charlottetown Branch #1 of the Royal Canadian Legion will hold a service of remembrance at the funeral home Tuesday at 6:45 p.m.
FOR THE RECORD: OBIT - PEI WWII SPY Duration: 00:02:52
At home on Prince Edward Island, he was known as Cliff Stewart. But during World War Two, he was known simply as "W-5".
Mr. Stewart was handy at operating radios, so during the war he was recruited to work as a spy with the British Service Coordination, or BSC. He was the fifth Allied spy from the Western Hemisphere working with the BSC, hence his code name W-5.
Clifton Stewart died in Charlottetown on Friday. He was ninety-one.
Mr. Stewart was stationed at Camp X, a secret communication and training base near Oshawa, Ontario. The camp was covered in antennas. The locals were told it was the CBC's Trans-Atlantic setup. From Camp X, Clifton Stewart helped aid the British with security and radio communications, and he also took part in several top secret missions.
In the 2009 documentary A Man Most Ordinary, Mr. Stewart talked about his spy training. Here's an excerpt from that documentary, for the record.
HAAKMAT, Gerald David May 22, 1961 - June 2, 2011 With great sadness, we announce that Gerry was tragically taken from us on June 2, 2011 in Vancouver, BC. He will be missed by his parents Johan and Pat; sisters Suzanne, Amy and Dawn (Larry); nieces and nephews, as well as extended family and friends. He will always be remembered for his spontaneity, his laugh and his infectious smile. A Funeral Service for Gerry will be held at 2:00 pm on Friday, June 10, 2011 at First United Church, 320 Hastings Street E., Vancouver, BC. In lieu of flowers, donations may be made in Gerry's memory to the First United Church www.firstunited.ca