Letters From the Front

Dated: December 22, 1915

LETTER FROM CHARLIE OUIMETTE

Following is a letter from Pte. Charles Ouimette, which was received by his sister Mrs. Nelson Murphy, at Nelson a few days ago:

You have the luckiest brother in the world. I have cabled dad I am safe. I am in England; so fortunate to be here. I was sent down to the base in Boulogne. By the way, I struck a swell hospital there, Sir Henry Norman's private home. Lived on eggs, chicken and stout, sounds good after bully beef, biscuits, and chlorinated water.

Well, I stayed there two days and then was put on board the hospital ship Anglia for England. I guess you know what became of it, about ten o'clock we struck a mine. I will pass over the details as they are too awful to relate; anyway, an orderly carried me upstairs on deck, then along the deck to the side of the ship. I thought my back would break, but I managed to stand and lean against the railing. Then a major came along who got a life belt and put it on me. The steamer had listed a good deal and he got me over the railing and down the side. You know there is a sort of plank runs along the ship a few feet below the portholes, well, to make a long story short, I stood on that till the ship went down, when of course, I floated off, I managed somehow to get hold of a buoy and was eventually picked up. It is only through the love and kindness of God that I am here today.

Torpedo and other boats from Dover saved all who were saved. I wish you could have seen those grey boats coming to the rescue 35 to 40 miles an hour, throwing the water high in the air. Once at least, that part of the British navy looked good to me. We were taken to Dover and placed on the hospital train and rushed to Leicester. Had it not been for the shipwreck, I would have been sent to the Canadian hospital at Shorncliffe, but as it was, Canadians were not known from anyone else. This is a big military hospital, and while I think one will get good treatment, it is strict and one gets only what is coming to them; no profusion of gifts as in the Canadian hospitals.

I lost absolutely everything except my Masonic ring, that is all I had on me when I landed in Dover. I had quite a few little war souvenirs. I was so sorry to lose mother's watch. It had stopped so I had it in my little bag with all my other worldly possessins.

The doctor here made an examination of my back and hips and thinks the trouble is purely muscular, and that I will be all right in a few weeks. I am still flat on my back, cannot even turn in bed. Of course, there is no doubt the shipwreck was a great shock. Being hauled into the rescue boat certainly strained my back.

The King sent a telegram to the survivors here expressing sympathy and hoping we would soon be better; jolly good of him, wasn't it?

In a later letter he writes:-

A Pincher Creek [Alberta] or Cowley boy was killed by the same shell that got me. His name was Montague¹, and he was simply blown to pieces. A boy from Claresholm was also wounded at the same time...No idea how long I was in the water --perhaps 10 minutes, perhaps 30 minutes--I don't know. But gee whiz! I do know that it was cold...Remember me to all the Coleman [Alberta] people and wish them a merry Christmas for me.