"I have no real job description,", he says during an October trip to Geraldton from Thunder Bay. "I just told Veterans Affairs Canada that I would find veterans for them-and the only way to do that is to put in the miles." Indeed, it is not unusual for him to cover 1,000 kilometres in two days. It's a lot of driving and it takes him through remote areas and all kinds of weather, but the rewards are there.

The 280-kilometre drive to Geraldton was delayed because John had to meet with the he local Crown attorney to see if compensation could be negotiated for fellow Native J.P King. King, a Regina Rifles veteran from Armstrong-200 kilometres to the north-was in hospital when the small cabin he has called home for 16 years was demolished-not by a wrecking ball, but by a man in a bulldozer intent on pushing it off school board property to make room for a new school. Pictures show the house sitting in a ditch on a 45-degree angle. "Everyone knows the property belongs to the school board but you can't just do this without warning the person," says John.

The delay is no surprise. It's the way John works. He never call ahead and that becomes obvious once the trip begins. Outside Thunder Bay, at Pass Lake, he stops at the home of Korean War veteran Benny Martin. A young woman answers the door and says her dad has gone into Thunder Bay, but will return in the evening. As he walks to his car, John (careful not to commit himself to a specific time) says, "Tell him I'll be back tomorrow afternoon or maybe Thursday."

In his car, John explains there is no point making appointments. "I never know how long I'll be on a visit. And even if I did, these are a nomadic people. You can call ahead but when you get there you find they have left."

Driving to Nipigon, John talks about the NVA/NWO. Controversial from the start, the association angered Thunder Bay veterans by its undiplomatic intrusion at the city's 1988 Remembrance Day ceremony. Having gathered members together quietly, the association appeared unannounced at the city's veterans parade wearing headbands and medals. As veterans they couldn't be turned away. "I suppose there were some people mad at us, but we made the news that night."

John, 69, formed the association to preserve the military history of Natives. Although there was at least one Native forestry unit during WW II, most Natives were dispersed throughout the Canadian forces. "There were Natives in all the units and they fought in all the famous battles. I don't think the Native people know that."

The association newspaper Shimaginish-the Ojibway word for soldier-mixes profiles of members with information on VAC benefits and Native veterans issues.

In Nipigon, no one is home at Lawrence Martin's house, but while leaving town, John passes Martin in his truck on Highway 11. Both pull off the road and meet beside their vehicles. Martin is active in the association and gives him the names of a few isolated veterans. "I give him names of people I met and served with," explains Martin. "That way he can look them up when he gets out their way."

Getting the names of Native veterans can be a problem. Many have "Hudson's Bay names"-Anglicized names given by traders or missionaries who cold not pronounce the Ojibway and Cree names. In his wallet, John carries his birth certificate that gives his original name of Jingosobii.

Nipigon is where John grew up. It's also where he maintains his Legion membership at Nipigon Branch. When he was a boy, his band moved from north of Lake Nipigon to the Lake Helen Reserve. "The people wanted to move in the 1930's and be closer to hospitals and other facilities. It's not nearly so isolated now."

John, who lives in Thunder Bay, has a son and a daughter on the reserve. There are signs of prosperity, including a new shopping mall and two-storey homes in stark contrast to older bungalows.

The drive through town brings a wealth of memories. John's round face and easy-going manner have a disarming effect, but he speaks slowly and cautiously, conveying the sense that here's a man who has learned from life.

He talks with a father's pride about another son's success in the Ontario Provincial Police, a sense of nostalgia when recalling the huge summer camps his people used to set up on the lake, and a hard-earned strength when telling of his won experience going from life in the bush to the Canadian Army in WW II.

The military upgraded his education and sent him to a police training school. "I didn't care what they id to me, I said to myself, "They are not going to break me." They didn't break him and he served with the military police attached to No. 4 Convalescent Depot.

After the war he proved as nomadic as the people he is looking for. He worked in lumbering, mining and as a tugboat captain. He has been an investigator for the Ontario Human Rights Commission and the Ministry of Labour and worked for the short-lived Company of Young Canadians. Never really at home with the civil service, he earns extra money driving a cab in Thunder Bay.

Reaching Geraldton, John checks into a motel and begins a series of phone calls. It's late afternoon, but there's still time to visit Nakina, 90 kilometres to the north. Snow is in the air, and more than an inch is on the ground when he pulls up in front of W.A. Grant Branch in Nakina.

Lloyd McLaughlin, the 31-year-old branch president, bring him up to date on the veterans at the 150-member branch. "We only have five or six veterans," he says, noting he took John's advice and attended a VAC seminar in Thunder Bay. "It is important stuff to know. If it weren't for the veterans, I wouldn't be interested in the Legion."

"VAC wanted me to look for natives, but I told them if I'm going out there, I'll be looking for any veterans I can find," says John back in the car. "When they sign you up they don't care if you are white, native or whatever."

Legion branches are a prime source for him. "The Legions should be in touch with the veterans in the community," he says, "But I also find out who is a veteran by talking to people at the post office, liquor store or general store. People there tend to know who everybody is in the smaller places."

Native Friendship Centres also play a role in developing a network of contacts. After returning to the motel, he wraps up the evening swapping information and stories with Lloyd Michon, president of the Thunder Bay Friendship Centre and a longtime Native activist.

After breakfast, he drives to Longlac, where there are two reserves, the Longlac Reserve, mostly Cree, and Long Lake Reserve, mostly Ojibway. He checks the health of two older veterans at the Longlac Reserve.

No home John visits is without a pot of coffee. He accepts a cup and scoops at least three spoonfuls of sugar into it. Although he's dropped smoking, he doesn't turn down a free cigarette. The visit is casual, but somehow conversation turns to the points he wants to cover. he asks if they have a Green Shield card for veterans benefits. "A lot of veterans I talk to don't even know what a Green Shield card is. I don't think the ink was even dry when I got mine."

At Long Lake Reserve he calls on Peter Towigishig, only to find he has gone to Geraldton hospital. John pays a visit and finds Towigishig recovering from a heart problem and more concerned about his home than his health. It needs repairs, but with six people in a two-bedroom house what he really needs is a larger house. "Housing is the biggest problem on the reserves," says John, who would like to see veterans housing complexes on reserves so aging veterans can remain in their community. This belief has led him to research the Veterans' Land Act.

While returning to Thunder Bay, he pulls off the road at a high point overlooking Lake Nipigon. He opens up the brief-case in his trunk and pulls out two post-WWI maps. The maps show areas around the lake subdivided into lots for veterans housing. Comparing landmarks, it is easy to see that the road, the railway and hydro line have come since the maps were drawn. The rest of the land remains unclaimed and bush-covered.