Secrets: Hitler, the King and the Teacher

A tombstone in a small Canadian city suggests that there may be even more skeletons crammed into the already bone-riddled closets of Britain’s House of Windsor.

It all begins with Edward. The eldest son of King George V never really appreciated his Royal responsibilities. Called David by his family, he was a rebellious boy, raised by nannies. As soon as he was of legal age, he fought to fight and so served in the First World War. Much to his chagrin, he was kept safely back from the front. At the war’s end, he returned to devoting most of his time to bedding young women, many of whom were married. The tittering British public derided the Duke of Windsor as the Playboy Prince.

Partly to end the embarrassing trysts, the angry King put the randy Prince on the road. One of his tours brought him to Canada. In autumn 1919, he was in Galt, Ontario. Galt is one of three small towns that were later amalgamated to form Cambridge. The 25-year-old and his retinue checked into the Iroquois Hotel. Edward often demanded last minute schedule changes and sometimes missed events. He did it again at Galt and escaped his handlers. At this point, the line between fact and conjecture becomes somewhat murky.

According to local legend, the handsome and dapper young man wandered from the hotel and happened upon a 27 year-old teacher who was tending her garden. He introduced himself as David and claimed to be an underling with the Royal Visit. The beguiling and pretty Millicent Milroy was polite but confessed no interest in Royalty. He was entranced. They spoke for a while and then walked together to the Iroquois.

Millicent Milroy

Millicent Milroy (

Edward was soon on his way but suddenly quite interested in Canada. He purchased the Bedingfield ranch in Alberta. On a subsequent visit, he donated the Prince of Wales Trophy to the N.H.L.

Millicent – everyone called her Millie – went back to her students while the Duke’s recklessness with women intensified and was even debated in the British House of Commons. His father exclaimed, “After I am dead, the boy will ruin himself in 12 months.” Among the many married women with whom Edward had illicit relationships was an American named Wallis Simpson. He tried to bring her to a Buckingham Palace event but the King and Queen refused to receive her.

Following the death of his father, on January 20, 1936 Edward became King Edward VIII. That November, he told Prime Minister Baldwin that when Mrs. Simpson’s second divorce was finalized, he wished to marry her. Baldwin was aghast. He said it would violate Church of England law and the British sense of moral decency. The Prime Ministers of various Commonwealth countries were consulted and Canada’s Mackenzie King expressed opposition. Millie was mum.

On December 11, 1936, people huddled close to their crackling radios to hear their King say, “I have found it impossible to carry the heavy burden of responsibility and to discharge my duties as king as I would wish to do without the help and support of the woman I love.” Edward abdicated and his brother succeeded him as George VI. Film goers recently came to know the new king’s struggles to overcome a stutter in The King’s Speech.

The retitled Duke of Windsor fled England for Austria. He married Wallis Simpson in June 1937. The Royal Family was glaringly absent from the wedding. In fact, his brother threatened to end the Royal allowance if he ever returned to Britain.

While angry with his family, the Duke became an admirer of Adolf Hitler. Hitler had taken power in 1933, took Jewish rights the next year, and was soon taking chunks of Europe. After honeymooning in Nazi-occupied Austria, the Duke and his new wife visited Hitler. In October 1937, before a large Berlin crowd, he offered Hitler the straight-armed Nazi salute. They then enjoyed a 12-day tour of the country that included a long stay with Hitler and his top advisors at Berchtesgaden, the Fuhrer’s opulent retreat.

Prinz Harrys Urgroßonkel Herzog von Windsor traf Hitler

Duke, Duchess and Fuhrer (photo:

After the war, British and American authorities captured and sealed the meeting records but they have been recently released. They are reported in a book entitled 17 Carnations that was published just weeks ago by British writer Andrew Morton. The records contain a letter in which Edward calls Hitler “a very great man” and that it would be “a tragic thing for the world if he were overthrown.” The records also show that Hitler pledged to protect Edward and his wife if they would stay quietly in a Spanish chalet while Britain was attacked. After Britain’s fall, the Duke and Duchess would be moved to Buckingham Palace to reign as Hitler’s puppets.

Recently released Nazi diplomatic records note that the Duke was “the only Englishman with whom Hitler would negotiate any peace terms, the logical director of England’s destiny after the war.” Other documents reveal that Edward believed that his brother the King was ‘utterly stupid’ and that Churchill was a ‘war monger’. Their insistence on fighting Hitler, he believed, would needlessly waste British lives.

Following his German visit, the Duke, indeed, moved to Spain. He and Churchill began a brief correspondence and shortly afterward, the Duke and Duchess were moved first to Portugal and then, in August 1940, to the Bahamas. Churchill hoped the dangerous Duke would be safely away from his fascist friend.

Recently released FBI files indicate that President Roosevelt had them carefully watched. The FBI told the president that while in Austria, the Duchess had engaged in a torrid affair with Hitler’s ambassador to London Joachim von Ribbentrop. The romantic or conniving Nazi who would later be Hitler’s Foreign Minister, sent his lover 17 carnations – one for each day of their fling The FBI also told Roosevelt of proof that Herman Goering, Commander of the Luftwaffe and Hitler’s designated successor, had concluded Hitler’s deal – the Duke would become the Nazi-dominated King after Britain’s defeat.

The plots and plans ended in May 1945 with Hitler’s death and silencing of the guns. The Duke and Duchess lived the rest of their days in pampered affluence and caused no further diplomatic stirs. Edward died at age 78, a forgotten relic, in May 1972.

The story then returns to Canada. The 80 year-old retired teacher, Millicent Milroy, had pre-arranged her funeral. She’d had a stone placed in the Mount View Cemetery. Two weeks after the Duke’s death, she had the stone carved to read: “Millicent Milroy, daughter of James and Helen Jane Milroy, 1892 – _______ Wife of Edward (VIII), Duke of Windsor, 1894 – 1972.

Milroy tombstone


A journalist was soon banging on her door, insisting to know if the stone was a joke. She explained that at the Iroquois Hotel in 1919, she and the Prince had become so instantly enamoured with one another that they had a “romantic encounter” and were secretly married. They agreed to keep their secret from the world until one of them died.

Some folks dismissed Ms. Milroy as a delusional loon. However, everything about her suggested otherwise. She had enjoyed a fine career and had always been an upstanding member of her community. She was perfectly lucid, with clear and vivid memories of all aspects of her life. She weaved no other tales linking her with any other important people or events.

Millie Milroy died in 1984. She never budged from her story and was buried beneath the stone insisting on its veracity. Perhaps it is just a story. However, when considered in light of other facets of Edward’s life that are only now being revealed and confirmed, maybe Galt’s Queen Millie deserves another look.

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Shudder or Think? We Must Decide

Canadians are being asked to be afraid. We should apparently be so afraid that we will trade a little more security for a lot less liberty with Bill C-51, Canada’s Patriot Act. It will affect our privacy at home and at work and is why four former prime ministers, retired judges, and so many academic experts in privacy matters oppose it.

At the same time, we are to be afraid of what people wear. A hijab, we’re told by the federal government and a Quebec court, is a threat; not a burka, that covers a person’s face, but a hijab that covers one’s hair. Is this a thin edge of the wedge where courts and the government can tell us what to wear and to fear those outside the mainstream, wherever that ever shifting current happens to be at the moment?


Rania El-Alloui was recently told by a Quebec judge to remove her hijab or consult a lawyer before proceedings could continue. (Photo: Graham Hughes)

Rather than shuddering, many Canadians opting to think because the anti-terrorist bill and hijab kerfuffle are stirring a debate regarding the definition of Canada.

To try and define Canada, however, is tough for any assortment of words quickly tumbles into confessions of a job half done. Canada is the dancing fire in Iqaluit’s sky as much as the homeless veteran on a Yonge Street sidewalk. Canada is Montreal private club English and Moncton Franglais as much as Ottawa Valley twang and Come By Chance slang.

If only we could ask the Irish who, when the potatoes went dead in the ground and rents flew high, left to start again where merit meant more than whose your father. It would be nice to ask the slaves who snapped their chains and followed the North Star to freedom. Or, maybe the Ukrainians, those peasants in sheepskin coats, who left poverty and oppression for free land and a fresh beginning.

Nowhere was Adolf Hitler’s evil more banal than at the death camps, and the worst of the worst was Auschwitz. The innocent who suffered unspeakable horror spoke of a building where their confiscated property was stored. It became a sliver of light through the cruel darkness. It held the promise that someday they might be released. We could speak with them about their naming the building Canada.

At the war’s end, Canadian doors opened to its victims. Hungarians, Italians, Czechs, Poles, and more came to work the mines, factories, and farms and build the schools, roads, and little towns and towering towers. The Ottawa men called them Displaced Persons while some snarled DP as an insult. The latest to arrive are always harshest on the next in line. Ask the Vietnamese about the Pakistanis or the Irish about the Jews or, for that matter, ask the Boethuk about the English; that’s if you can find a Boethuk to ask.

All the answers from all these people, along with songs and stories and dusty old Royal Commissions, leave us with a country too complex to fully comprehend let alone define. Maybe that’s OK. Canada is like the shape-shifting trickster Raven whose beauty is its ever-changing complexity.

Perhaps this vision brings us as close as we will come in our quest for understanding. But in our hearts, we have always understood the Canadian secret. It is the freedom to try and fail and try again. It’s the draw bridge locked open to new people and ideas.

It is embracing complexity and the fundamental notion that there is value in us all that has created a society where each of us gives a little to help folks we will never meet, whether it’s the old man across town or the hungry child half way around the globe. It’s the notion of community extending beyond our family to where every child is ours. It’s where differences in whom we are, whom we worship, and whom we love are not just tolerated but accepted as who we are

It’s complicated. It’s hard. It’s meant to be. But it is what will save us from fear-based prejudices and policies, be they the proposition of police-state practices or a national dress code. It is our celebration of Canadian complexity that we guard, oh Canada, when we stand on guard for thee.

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