One of the more insufferable clichés in this business is to pronounce the passing of a notable character as bringing to an emphatic end an entire era. Rarely is it properly the case. But in Schmidty – gone just two months shy of his 99th birthday – we have the near unique exception.
He was the oldest alumnus of the National Hockey League, the last to have played meaningfully before World War II, arriving in 1936 as the game was mourning Howie Morenz. He played with Eddie Shore, was mentored by Dit Clapper, coached by Art Ross, on a line with Cooney Weiland, in front of Tiny Thompson in goal, all of whom, you need appreciate, having been founding fathers of the Bruins.
Milt was already an all-star, leading his team to a Cup the year a scrawny and petulant Ted Williams arrived in town with the Red Sox. Milt was the last of our pre-war athletes, the very last connection with an era that was truly precious.
And it was, of course, World War II that was the great divide, professionally and personally, for lads of that era. In the case of Milt and his “Kraut Line†mates, it was the war that inspired a fabulous moment that still much graces their legend. It unfolded the night of Feb. 10, 1942, when the Bruins, in first place and favorites for the Cup, thrashed Montreal at the old Garden, 8-1, which would have been noteworthy in any era except that this was the night the “Krauts†headed off to war.
Buddies since their childhood in Kitchener, Ontario, Woody Dumart, Bobby Bauer, and Milt Schmidt were all of German descent, proud of their heritage, and at the very height of their game. But there was no hesitation. Nine weeks after Pearl Harbor, as Singapore was falling to the Japanese, marking what Churchill himself called the war’s “darkest hour†for the British, the mates departed for the Royal Canadian Air Force in a vintage display of sentiment and patriotism.
When the game ended, the teams lined up for center-ice ceremonies and then, in a wonderfully impromptu gesture, the players – both Bruins and the much-loathed Canadiens – hoisted the three “Krauts†onto their soldiers and collectively skated them around the ice with great ceremony as the organist played “Auld Lang Syne.†When the music ended, off they went to England with the RCAF not to return for three and a half years. Reports from the time describe the crowd near ecstatic with nary a dry eye in the house.
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