Letters From the Front

Dated: May 18, 1917

Bless the mothers who reared such splendid sons who, when duty called, did not slink away but faced the situation like men!

My, mother, but it was a grand sight.  We were standing at our dressing station, which we  had just finished building, and we had a clear view of what was going on.  At 5.30 a.m., the barrage lifted and our boys kicked off.  Over they went in a steady yet determined manner, with our barrage still in front.  No human being could go through it and live, and Fritz knew that, too.  There was only one thing for him to do, beat it.  You could not see his heels for dust, and the barrage still followed him.

Of course, some poor fellows paid the supreme price at the kick off, but they all wore that smile of happiness, for they knew they had done their bit and the other boys would have revenge.  For when a man sees his comrade drop there is a blood mist before him.  

By this time they were at the second line, and soon they were out of sight, over the ridge and on to the third line.  Now our work commenced.  We had already been ? off in squads of four, and our squad was one of the first to leave our post.  The wounded were coming fast and it was our task for the time being to carry them down from our aid post to the dressing station.

Canon Scott was on the job.  'Good old Canon Scott!' was the cry when along he came with his old reliable walking stick and rum bottle.  There he was, busy cheering the wounded and saying what a great day it was for Canada and for God!  The Y.M.C.A. were busy too.  Their men were hustling about and when the wounded were brought in, they had hot drinks, cocoa, soup, cake and chocolate and cigarets.

Now the prisoners began to come down, and although we had plenty of work  to do we could not resist our curiosity to have a look at them.  A bright idea struck our officer in charge, and in about five minutes we had 150 to 200 prisoners carrying for us.  This chicken had four squads, 16 men, under him for awhile, until a few others got wise and then we all had a squad or two.  Believe me, they did good work.  We gave them lots of bully beef and biscuits, and they certainly were surprised at our treatment.  One chap we called Henri could speak splendid English, and he told us they had always heard we were brutal to our prisoners.  One old Fritz said:  'English, they fight for liberty, French, they fight for liberty.  Canadians, they fight for souvenirs.'  Nothing slow about him, eh?