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 +-----------------------------------------------------------+ | Transcriber's Note: | | | | Inconsistent hyphenation in the original document has | | been preserved. | | | | Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. For | | a complete list, please see the end of this document. | | | +-----------------------------------------------------------+

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"THE RED WATCH"

WITH THE FIRST CANADIANDIVISION IN FLANDERS

 [Illustration: J. A. Currie]

"THE RED WATCH"WITH THE FIRST CANADIANDIVISION IN FLANDERS

BYCOLONEL J. A. CURRIE, M. P. 

 [Illustration]

LONDON:CONSTABLE AND COMPANY, LTD. 1916

COPYRIGHT, CANADA, 1916By McCLELLAND, GOODCHILD & STEWART, LIMITEDTORONTO. 

PRINTED IN CANADA. 

DEDICATED TO THE MEMORYOF THE CANADIAN SOLDIERSWHO FELL IN FLANDERS

 These for the Empire stood in war array, Barring the Hun invader on his way; Into the battle rushed at Duty's call, Resolved to hold their trenches or to fall; That Britons ne'er to tyrants bend the knee But live as they were born, unyoked and free. Now, in the bosom of a distant land These warriors sleep, for such is God's command. The Fates in all decree, and have their will, And mortals must their destiny fulfill. 

 J. A. CURRIE, M. P. , _Colonel_. 

CONTENTS

 PAGE

Preface 9

CHAPTER IKilties in Canada 11

CHAPTER II"The Red Watch" or 48th Highlanders 18

CHAPTER IIIThe Newer Colonial Policy 22

CHAPTER IVThe Call to Arms 28

CHAPTER VOrganizing Imperial Battalions 37

CHAPTER VIThe New Armada 46

CHAPTER VIISalisbury and the Stones of Stonehenge 63

CHAPTER VIIIUnder Field Marshal Earl Roberts 72

CHAPTER IXMoulding an Army 81

CHAPTER XHis Majesty the King, and Field Marshal the Right Hon. Viscount Kitchener 90

CHAPTER XIOff for France 100

CHAPTER XIISomewhere in Flanders 112

CHAPTER XIIIWith Field Marshal Sir John French 116

CHAPTER XIVUnder Hiex Shells 122

CHAPTER XVThe Flare-lit Trenches of Fromelles 132

CHAPTER XVIWith General Sir Douglas Haig 146

CHAPTER XVIIThe Battle of Neuve Chapelle 155

CHAPTER XVIIIBillets and Bivouacs 174

CHAPTER XIXWith General Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien 182

CHAPTER XXThe Historic Salient at Ypres 189

CHAPTER XXIThe Red Cock Crows 197

CHAPTER XXIIGerman Gas and Turcos 204

CHAPTER XXIIIThe Battle of St. Julien 216

CHAPTER XXIVHanging on 228

CHAPTER XXVAll that was Left of Them 245

CHAPTER XXVIDigging in with General Snow 257

CHAPTER XXVIITwelve Glorious Days 267

CHAPTER XXVIIIWinning Another Championship 275

CHAPTER XXIXAn Appreciation of Valor 281

CHAPTER XXXWanted, More and More of Them 286

Index 289

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

 PAGE

Col. John A. Currie Frontispiece

Capt. R. Clifford Darling, Adjutant 24

Officers of the 48th Highlanders 40

Group of Non-Commissioned Officers, 48th Highlanders 56

Aboard Ship in Winter Garb 72

Our Pullman Coach 88

48th Highlanders at Church Service near Messines 104

Church Steeple where V. C. Was Won 120

Signallers in Flanders 136

The Trenches in Winter 152

First Aid in the Trenches 168

Trenches at Neuve Chapelle 184

Map of the Original Salient at Ypres 194

The Famous Road to Ypres 200

Map of the Break in the Salient 206

Sniping Through a Port Hole 216

A narrow Escape 232

Map of the Salient Flattened 248

The Muster of the 48th Highlanders after the Battle of St. Julien 264

PREFACE

The kind reception given to the rough notes from the Author's Diary, which appeared first in the daily papers in Canada, encouraged theproduction of this book. These notes, in order to make them morereadable, have been put in narrative form. There is no pretence thatthis is a history of the war. It is only a string of pen picturesdescribing life and incidents of the campaign common to almost everycorps in the field. 

Where anything is omitted it must be borne in mind that the authorcannot give any information of a military character which might assistthe enemy while the war is in progress. 

Opinions and observations on military matters are omitted. Discussionson the merits of the various arms, equipments, rifles, work of thestaff, errors, omissions and criticisms of the manner in which the waris conducted, must wait for a future volume. 

It is hoped that this publication will encourage all young men to"take their places in the ranks" and bear arms for the King andEmpire, regardless of whether our military system be volunteering, conscription or National service. 

It is more evident every day that there is need for the mobilizationand consolidation of all the resources of the Empire. Consolidated andmobilized the Empire is self-sustaining and invincible. Its militaryand financial powers would be quadrupled. There is nothing to justifyany delay in accomplishing this object except political expediency. In union there would be not only immediate strength, but confidenceand harmony. 

The world is just as full of brave deeds and stirring events as ever. The British Empire is yet a lump of clay unfashioned and formless onthe wheel of the potter. That is the colonial view. It is for us tohelp "Mould it nearer to our heart's desire. "

It is a great privilege to live in this age when such glorious deedsare being performed and history is being written. It is better stillto be permitted to die, doing brave deeds, that our Empire may live, greater, freer and happier than ever. 

TORONTO, OCTOBER 2ND, 1916. 

CHAPTER I

KILTIES IN CANADA. 

With this book as with many others the first chapter should be readlast. The reason it is placed first is that the chronological ordermust be maintained. Besides, when stirring deeds by brave men arerecalled, it matters not how briefly, they demand better treatmentthan being embalmed in an appendix. 

This chapter deals with the first appearance of the Highland soldierin Canada. That appearance was both interesting and tragic. Thestories and legends surrounding the campaigns of these brave men havefurnished many themes for the poet and novelist. This chapter can onlybriefly refer to them. 

If you search the great plains and rugged mountains of Canada from endto end, you will find many beautiful plants and flowers, but not asingle spray of heather. Only in one spot in the whole vast Dominionwill you find the plant that is so characteristically Scottish, growing naturally, and that is in Point Pleasant Park, Halifax. Tradition has it that on this spot, in 1757, the soldiers of the"Black Watch, " the 42nd Highlanders, first set foot on Canadian soil. Here in this park, one of the most beautiful in America, the visitoris shown a plot of Scottish heather, flourishing vigorously in spiteof souvenir hunters and vandals. 

The Black Watch arrived at Halifax in the spring of 1757 to take partin the expedition against Louisburg, under General Abercrombie. Somesay that the men of the Regiment, desirous of perpetuating the badgeof so many of their clansmen, planted the heather seed where it nowgrows. Others, that the palliasses or mattresses of the soldiers wereemptied here after the voyage, and the heather with which they hadbeen filled in Scotland provided the seed from which this plot grew. It matters very little how it came. The heather still flourishes onthe spot where the Black Watch first pitched its tent in Canada. 

The expedition against Louisburg was abandoned, but the following yearthe regiment took part in the operations against the French underMontcalm at Lake George. Visitors there are shown the ruins of theramparts of Ticonderoga. Around these ruins cling many legends andstories, but the name of Ticonderoga will live forever in the weirdtale immortalized by Sir Thomas Dick Lauder, Parkman and the poem ofRobert Louis Stevenson. It is told how on the eve of the battle thereappeared to Duncan Campbell, of Inverawe, Major of the Black Watch, the wraith of a relative, murdered by a man to whom Campbell hadgranted sanctuary. This wraith had years previously appeared to himand warned him that he would meet him at "Ticonderoga. " The followingday Major Campbell died at the head of the assaulting columns of theBlack Watch, and that brave regiment lost 655 officers and men, nearlyequalling the losses of the "Red Watch, " the 48th Highlanders ofCanada, at the Battle of St. Julian in Flanders, when their rollshowed 691 casualties. 

The charge of the Black Watch at Ticonderoga was one of the bravestexploits of British arms. The gallant Highlanders advanced against thelog redoubts and abattis of the French under Montcalm, hacking at thebranches with their broadswords, climbing the ramparts with theassistance of their comrades, only to be hurled back, torn andbleeding, with the grape shot from hidden guns and musket-fire frommany loopholes. They assaulted again and again, and finally had to bewithdrawn. 

For their gallant conduct at Ticonderoga the "Black Watch" were made a"Royal" regiment by the King. 

The Black Watch was quartered for many years afterwards in Canada andquite a few of the descendants of these old warriors helped to makehistory for the Canadians in this latest and "Greatest War. "

The second appearance of the armed Highlander in Canada wascharacteristically dramatic. They came in the persons of Fraser'sHighlanders, hard on the heels of the gallant Black Watch. Thisregiment, known as the old 78th, was celebrated in many ways. This isthe corps raised by Lord Lovat, that Pitt was said to have had in mindwhen in the British House of Commons he delivered the famous panegyricon the Highland troops. 

This regiment distinguished itself first at the taking of Louisburg. It was the first to climb the Heights of Abraham and its fame has comedown through history with that of Wolfe's victory at Quebec. Thefierce charge of this regiment at Quebec which broke through theFrench line as if it were paper, is accounted for by the story thatthe Highlanders were rendered frantic by the fall of Wolfe whom theyidolized, as the young staff officer who, on the day after Culloden, dared the anger of his Commander by refusing to pistol a woundedHighlander. A Canadian poet, Mr. Duncan Anderson, in describing theBattle of the Plains of Abraham, refers to the Frasers thus:

 "And the shrill pipe its coronach that wailed, On dark Culloden moor, o'er trampled dead, Now sounds the 'Onset' that each clansman knows, Still leads the foremost rank where noblest blood is shed. "

While Fraser's regiment were in garrison in Quebec, an incidentoccurred that was later on duplicated in Flanders. Owing to theinclement weather in Quebec, some of the officers in authority decidedthat the men should discard their kilts and don trousers. The officersand men of the regiment would not hear of it, and the historian of theregiment says that the kilt was retained winter and summer and that"in the course of six years the doctors learned that in the coldestof winters the men clad in the Highland garb were more healthy thanthose regiments that wore breeches and warm clothing. "

In the trenches at Neuve Chapelle an agitation arose to give thekilted Canadian soldier in the trenches trousers. With the snow on theground and half an inch of ice on the water pails in the morning, theywould not hear of anything but the kilt. Their health was similarlygood, colds being unknown. 

Along with Fraser's regiment there came also the MontgomeryHighlanders, the 77th, raised by Hon. Arch. Montgomery, son of theEarl of Eglington. This regiment took its full share of the operationsagainst the French at Fort DuQuesne and elsewhere. 

Romantic interest clings around the memories of the MontgomeryHighlanders. This regiment was known as the "Lost Regiment. " Thelegend says that one of its gallant leaders, Major Charteris, fell inlove with a young woman of his native parish of Perth before he wentto the War. She promised to wait till he returned when he would havecarved a name for himself with his good broadsword, which was his onlyfortune. Whilst his regiment was in America his letters failed toreach her, and finally the troop ship on which Charteris sailed forhome was driven ashore and his regiment took eight months to make thevoyage. All hands were given up as lost, and Major Charteris'sweetheart consented to marry another officer, a "slacker" who had notgone to the war. While the wedding bells were ringing, the regimentmarched into Perth, but half an hour too late. Charteris returned toAmerica and died the death of a soldier. His name is still perpetuatedin that of a town in Illinois, Ft. Charteris. 

The first Highland Regiment to be enlisted in Canada was the RoyalHighland Emigrants, still known in the army list as the 84th. Noregiment ever embodied in the British service deserves kindlierremembrance in Canada than this gallant corps. The name and numberhas been perpetuated in the British Army List. Its exploits will neverbe forgotten and should be cherished by all Canadians. This regimentwas enlisted in 1775 when the Revolutionary War broke out, from theHighlanders of Fraser's, Montgomery's and the Black Watch regimentsthat had settled in America. 

When the Revolutionary War broke out Lieut. -Col. Allan McLean, ofTorlousk, and Capt. John Small of Strathardle, in Athole, proceeded toembody the members of the Highland regiments that had settled inAmerica. These old Highlanders rallied to the colors of the newbattalions, two in number, and they served with great distinctionthroughout the revolutionary period. McLean raised one battalion inthe States among the loyal Highlanders of Virginia and the Carolinas. He was assisted by Capt. McLeod, a former officer in Fraser'sregiment. Through many perils and devious routes the men who enlistedfound their way to the battalion rendezvous, and when they had allgathered they marched to Quebec, and virtually took charge of thestirring defence of that famous fortress against the American armyunder Montgomery and Arnold. Throughout the siege, the order andgallantry of the Highlanders animated the garrison and it was beforethe muskets of the Royal Highland Emigrants that Montgomery fell atthe barrier beneath the citadel. 

No greater service was ever given to the British Crown than that givenat Quebec by the Royal Highland Emigrants, during the second siege. Their undaunted conduct stirred to emulation the brave French-Canadianswho mustered to assist the British, and by their joint efforts theAmerican invasion and siege came to an end. 

The second battalion served in Nova Scotia during the war. Five of thecompanies accompanied Lord Cornwallis in his operations in New Yorkand the Southern coast States. Later the two battalions were formedinto the 84th Regiment, Sir Henry Clinton being appointedColonel-in-Chief. 

History repeats itself and the descendants of the gallant RoyalHighland Emigrants, more than a hundred years later, in the ranks ofthe "Red Watch, " or 48th Highlanders of Canada, fought side by side inthe same brigade in Flanders with the gallant Royal Montreal Regiment, composed largely of French-Canadians. 

When the Royal Emigrants were disbanded in Canada after the war, themen returned to their farms. Colonel McLean's battalion settledchiefly in Ontario. Many of their descendants still live on theiroriginal homesteads and have filled honourable positions in the publicand private life of their country. The members of Small's battalionsettled in Nova Scotia, and their descendants were in evidence when aHighland corps was organized by Lieut. -Col. Struan Robertson ofPictou, to take part in the "Greatest War. "

During the War of 1812, a regiment was raised amongst the Highlandersof the County of Glengarry, Ontario, known as the Glengarry Fencibles. Descendants of these soldiers were amongst the first to offer theirservices for Flanders in 1914. One gallant officer of the 48th, Captain Archibald McGregor, who gave his life at the Battle of St. Julien, was a descendant of these men of Glengarry. 

The Glengarry Fencibles fought amongst the foremost at the Battle ofLundy's Lane alongside the 100th Prince of Wales Regiment, which atthat period was uniformed in kilts. 

Many distinguished highland regiments served in Canada during thenineteenth century. Amongst those that are still held in kindlyremembrance are the following: The Highland Light Infantry, the 73rd, 74th, 78th, 79th and 93rd. Many of the officers and men of theseregiments bought out in Canada or else settled in the country at theend of their period of service. 

Thus it will be seen that the kilted soldiers have played a prominentpart in the pioneer life and settlement of Canada, where men ofScottish blood have always found a congenial home. The highest officesin the gift of the people have gone to the men of Scottish originlike Sir John Macdonald, Alexander Mackenzie, George Brown and SirOliver Mowat, whose genius for organization and government madepossible Confederation. In the financial and industrial life of thecountry the names of Lord Strathcona, Sir James Drummond and manyother Scots will always be cherished. 

It matters not whether the Scottish lad comes from the "dim shieling"or the ancestral castle, when he reaches the shores of Canada he findsthe Field Marshal's baton in his pocket, and he can be a leader inwhatever sphere of life he chooses. 

CHAPTER II

THE "RED WATCH" OR 48TH HIGHLANDERS

It was while doing duty in Scotland, shortly after the Jacobiterising, that the 42nd Highlanders came to be called the "Black Watch. "The sombre color of their kilts and the work in which they wereengaged combined to give them this nickname, which has clung to thisfamous regiment ever since. The 48th Highlanders of Canada wore asombre tartan like the "Black Watch, " interwoven with a broad redcheck, and it was whilst doing duty as patrol over a steel plant atSault Ste. Marie that some striking Scotchmen first called theCanadian Regiment the "Red Watch. " The name has been accepted andalternates with the "48th" in describing this corps. The braveSeaforths have a light grey check in their tartans, the gay Gordons abrilliant golden check, but the 48th have this check in red, and whenthe kilts are properly made the stripe comes on the fold of the tartanand gives a peculiar shimmering effect to the swaying kilts while themen are on the march. The nickname of the "Red Watch" is not as wellknown as that of the "Black Watch, " but the Imperial Battalion of the"Red Watch" loyally earned the name at the great salient at Ypres, where they watched at the post of honor and halted the German massesin their second great drive to Calais. This story has most to tellabout these stirring days, but a word about the Canadian Militia andthis regiment in particular may be in order. 

Reference in the foregoing chapter has been made to the Highlandregiments that served in the Colonial Wars. These troops were regulartroops, but always serving with or against them were the CanadianMilitia. 

From the very beginning of the Colonies there was a Canadian Militia. From its inception during the Indian wars down to the time of writing, this Militia has been distinguished for bravery. It came into being inthe days of the early French settlement, and the Canadian Militiahelped Montcalm to fight at Ticonderoga, Detroit and Fort DuQuesne. During the Seven Years' War, the Canadian Militia served continuously. At the capitulation of Canada it was stipulated that the ProvincialMilitia were to be allowed to return unmolested to their farms. Theymarched out of the fallen fortresses with all the honors of war, witharms and badges, drums beating, colors flying and matches lit. WhenCanada became British, the militia was incorporated into the new Stateorganization. It distinguished itself again during the War of 1812 atChateauguay, Detroit, Queenston Heights, Chippewa and Lundy's Lane. Onnumerous occasions the Imperial authorities commended the gallantconduct of the Canadian Militia. 

When the Confederation of the Canadian Colonies was accomplished, in1866, it was decided that the defence of the country should be leftlargely to the Militia, and a condition of Confederation was that thisforce was to be retained and strengthened, and a certain sum of moneyshould be spent upon it annually. 

When an invasion was threatened from the United States in 1866, theCanadian Militia sprang to arms and manned the frontiers. When GeneralLouis Riel raised the banner of rebellion in the North-WestTerritories of Canada on two occasions, it was the civilian soldiersthat suppressed the uprising. When the British power under LordWolseley went to the assistance of General Gordon in the Soudan, acontingent of Canadians, under Colonel Frederick Denison, C. B. , M. P. , helped to pilot the Nile barges up that historic river. Again when warbroke out in South Africa, the Canadian contingent covered itself withglory on the hard won field of Paardeburg, helping materially to winthe first decisive victory in South Africa for the British Army. 

The 48th Highlanders Regiment in the Canadian Militia was formed in1891. A number of enthusiastic Scotchmen met in the City of Toronto anddecided to organize a Militia Regiment wearing the tartan kilt andfeather bonnet. Committees were formed and in a very short timesufficient funds were raised to enable the regiment to be uniformed. Sir George E. Foster, then Minister of Finance for the Dominion ofCanada, Sir John A. Macdonald, the Prime Minister, and Sir OliverMowat, the Premier of the Province of Ontario, lent their patronage tothe movement. The writer was associated in the work, and appeared inthe first _Gazette_ as a Captain of the new corps. The first CommandingOfficer, Lieutenant-Colonel J. I. Davidson, Lieutenant-Colonel A. M. Cosby, Lieutenant-Colonel W. C. Macdonald, Lieutenant-Colonel Robertsonand Lieutenant-Colonel William Hendrie were on the original committeesof the regiment. At the time of writing this book, the regiment had oneColonel and five Lieutenant-Colonels on active service, namely, ColonelCurrie, M. P. , Lieutenant-Colonels Marshall, Hendrie, Dansereau, Millerand Chisholm. 

One of the leading spirits in the formation of the corps was Hon. Lt. -Colonel Dr. Alexander Fraser, Ph. D. , A. D. C. , the noted Celticscholar and antiquarian. The tartan chosen was the old Davidson tartanin honor of its first Colonel. The badge was the Celtic motto "DileasGu Brath. " It was given the number "48" in the Canadian Militia list, which number on its bonnets and badges it has since proudly worn ontwo continents and in three countries, on tented ground and hardfought field. In the South African War the regiment sent its quota andthe men served with much distinction. 

Many Highland gatherings in Canada were held under the auspices ofthis regiment. A bayonet team was sent to the Royal Militarytournament, at Islington, in June, 1897, and this team carried off thethree principal events, viz. : the Colonial Individual Competition, theAll-Comers' Individual Championship and the Team Championship. PrivateGeorge Stewart it was that won the Championship, and a greatreception was tendered him when he came home to Canada. 

The regiment had always paid a great deal of attention to musketry andin 1913, the year the writer became Commanding Officer, the blueribbon of Rifle shooting, the King's Prize, was won at Bisley by amember of the corps, Sergeant Hawkins. In that year theColonel-in-Chief of the regiment, General Sir Ian Hamilton, arrived inCanada on a tour of inspection of the Overseas Forces of the Crown. Hereviewed the regiment and expressed himself as well pleased. Thisvisit was considered a great honor. 

Early in the year 1914, the strength of the regiment was raised to apeace establishment of 867, rank and file, and the field training ofthe corps took place at Petawawa, where Lord Brooke had command of theCanadian forces in training. The regiment behaved well and showedevidence of the high standard of efficiency which it subsequentlyreached. The greatest enthusiasm prevailed, and the corps was inexcellent form when the war was declared in August, 1914. It was thefirst to volunteer as a unit for Overseas service. 

CHAPTER III

THE NEWER COLONIAL POLICY

"I suppose now that Great Britain has declared war on Germany, Canadawill throw in her lot with the United States, " so laughingly spoke anAmerican friend that I met the day Great Britain declared war onGermany. 

"Not a bit of it, " I said. "Before the week is over you will hear thedrums beating and see recruits foregathering here. Canada is at war aswell as Great Britain. "

"But won't you have difficulties with Quebec?"

"Nothing of the kind. Depend upon it, the last gun in favor of Britishconnection in Canada will, if necessary, be fired by a French-Canadian. They marry young and may be a trifle slow in volunteering on thataccount. It requires a great effort for a man to tear himself away froma young, helpless wife and a large small family, but they come of goodfighting stock, and when it comes to war, blood will tell. "

"Well, you can depend on the Monroe-doctrine anyway. "

"Yes, we believe in the Monroe-doctrine just the same as you do. Weare going to fight for it on the Plains of Flanders. "

"But you don't mean that Canada is going to take an active part in thewar?"

"Certainly. "

"Well, nobody ever thought you would. "

In this he was expressing the traditional view of Colonial connection. At the time of the break with the American colonies, Turgot, the greatFrench economist, coined a phrase which has been accepted by thechancelleries of Europe as a truism: "Colonies are like fruit, whenthey become ripe they drop from the parent stem. "

When Germany decided to cross the Meuse into Belgium the Emperor hadbeen assured by his foreign office that Great Britain would not takepart in the war. There were the disturbing questions of Home Rule forIreland, Socialism and anti-Militarism, and the Colonies had grown inwealth and population to such an extent that they were ready to dropfrom the parent stem if ever they would do so. Would Great Britainrisk civil war at home and the loss of her Colonies abroad in order tovindicate her pledge given years before, to keep inviolate thefrontiers of Belgium? The answer was the prompt declaration of war onGermany, the cessation of political warfare at home, abroad thesplendid enthusiasm of the Colonies with offers of men and money. 

Previous to the break with the American Colonies, Great Britain hadadopted a colonial policy very much on what we would call Imperiallines. The Navigation Laws of Cromwell gave her virtually command ofall trade by sea, protective tariffs and bounties built upinter-Imperial and home trade. 

At the end of the Seven Years' War, the Empire, judged from theworld's standard, was far greater than it is now. The Colonies werevaster and comparatively more powerful. The general impression now isthat Britain's Colonies in America were in those days managed the sameas Germany managed her African Colonies, that they were oppressed andhad nothing to say about how they were governed and that the mothercountry played the part of a despot. Such was not the case. Theconstitutions of the American Provinces were most democratic, more sothan many colonial constitutions of to-day. All the provinces inAmerica possessed a parliament elected by the people, and three ofthem, Connecticut, Rhode Island and Massachusetts, elected an upperHouse or Senate. Rhode Island and Connecticut elected their ownGovernors, and these two provinces, along with Maryland, could enactlaws without the veto or interference of British legislators or theCrown. In 1762 Great Britain had 337, 000 men under arms, and of theseover 25, 000 were Colonials from America. Fifteen thousand New Englandseamen volunteered for the Spanish War, and during the Seven Years'War the Colonials manned over 400 privateers or ships of war, and theState of Pennsylvania spent £440, 000, a great sum of money in thosedays, for military purposes. 

With the Colonies so loyal and so willing to assist Great Britain intime of trouble and danger, how was it that in a decade the Empire wasshattered and the major portion of the Colonies were busy building upa nation of their own? At this distance of time it is still hard toview the question dispassionately. 

Who was responsible for this great criminal folly?

Was it some individual?

Was it the old Colonial policy?

Or, was it petty parish politics?

The trend of political thought in the Colonies has generally been theantithesis of political thought in Great Britain. Colonial thought hasalways been an enigma to the British. Of recent years it has been bothdisturbing and confusing. The Colonial, who, with his own eyes, withinthe span of a few years in his own country, views the transition of abit of landscape from barbarism to civilization, the hunter giving wayto the shepherd, the herder to the farmer, cities and towns springingup over night with factories and banking established in a few months, seldom arrives at the same political conclusion as the theorist whotries to conjure up the genesis of political economy from books andmusty documents. His is the school of hard experience, which teacheslessons that fine-spun theories cannot upset. It is so with hisColonial theories of economics and government. The dead weight oftradition does not hang around his neck where State affairs areconcerned and precedent only counts when it is right and just. 

Governor Pownall, of New Jersey, immediately previous to the time ofthe Revolutionary war, wrote a book, entitled: "The Administration ofthe British Colonies. " In this work he pointed out the necessity ofcloser political union between the Colonies and the mother country; infact, he outlined an Imperial constitution. He pointed out that therehad always existed two lines of thought among English-speaking people. One favored unity, centralization, Imperialism, the other disunion, orindividualism, claiming that in the absolute independence of eachsmall unit of the Empire rested liberty and freedom. This struggle isstill on. 

 [Illustration: CAPT. R. CLIFFORD DARLING, ADJUTANT]

Had Pitt followed up his idea of uniting the Colonies into a Dominion, or into an even greater union such as he was pressed then to do, theAmerican Revolution would in all probability have been averted. 

But Pitt's energies were turned to the war then being carried on inGermany, and the Colonies were for the time-being neglected withdisastrous results. 

The historical philosophers of modern Germany cherished the delusionthat history would repeat itself. 

Ever since the American Revolution, Great Britain had adopted adifferent Colonial policy from the policy of Pitt. The navigation lawshad been repealed, protection and bounties had been withdrawn, thedoctrine of _laisser faire_ prevailed. 

When the American Colonies secured their independence, each colony ofthe thirteen was a helpless independent unit. They had united for thewar of Independence, but the union was one of sentiment, there was noconstitution, no common ground on which they could unite for politicalaction. Fortunately, the war had produced such wise patriotic men asWashington, Franklin and Hamilton, and through their efforts apolitical union of the Colonies was accomplished. It took the betterpart of ten years to do this. It was part of the policy ofreconstruction. Later on, the Colonies in Canada followed suit. Theyunited under a constitution which, at the same time, guaranteed theautonomy of the provinces within and solidarity in external affairs. Australia and South Africa followed suit. The policy of Imperial unityhad been gathering force and momentum, but when the great war came ithad not yet reached that point where the pressing of a button wouldset machinery at work which would marshall all the financial, mechanical, political and military resources of the Empire. That daywill come. 

The example of the Colonies in rallying immediately to the aid of themother country proved the saying that after all it is the horse, notthe harness, that pulls the load. The Imperial harness is anaggregation of shreds and patches, not yet even a conception, but whenthe time of trial came, the Imperial spirit rose superior to allobstacles, surprising the German Emperor and the whole world. 

In vain were the seeds of sedition sown in various parts of the Empireand in neutral countries. 

An old Irish woman voiced the Home Rule sentiment abroad thus: "TheEnglish have not used the Irish right, but we will forget that for themoment, for we will never be able to lift our heads again in New Yorkif we let the Germans bate us. "

The most preposterous thing in connection with the German program wasthe propaganda of anti-militarism preached among the British people, and the most amazing thing was that the British were so lacking inself-respect that they would listen to such doctrines. A noble andunsullied past has given the British people the right to be in thehighest sense a military nation. For a century the sun has neverrisen, but its rays have fallen on the face of a Briton who has diedfor liberty. Wherever Britain has been compelled to draw the swordthere has followed freedom and peace. There is the record of India, Canada, of Egypt and of South Africa to point to. No person unlesssteeped to the eye-brows in pro-Germanism can, in the face of thatrecord, assert that Great Britain ever used her military power tooppress the weak, or tyrannize over the people she, of necessity, hadto conquer. Why then should Britain be asked to disarm and turn overthe business of maintaining the world's peace to the Hun and theTurk? To preach anti-militarism to a British people is to insult theirintelligence. Britain alone of all nations has brought peace with hersword. The interests of Christianity, of humanity and of civilizationdemand that she be always a great military power. Had she not listenedto the pro-German pleas of the so-called anti-militarists, Austria-Germany would not have dared to dream of conquering the world. Much suffering would have been avoided, and life and treasure wouldhave been saved. This war is fairly laid at the door of those whopractised and preached anti-militarism in the British Empire. If GreatBritain had possessed a national army of half a million men in 1913, there would have been no war. 

Somebody has to police the world and the best policeman is the man whowears khaki and speaks the English tongue. 

CHAPTER IV

THE CALL TO ARMS

In the War of 1870, the Germans advanced across the Rhine on thefrontier of France. The independent State of Luxemburg and the Kingdomof Belgium were not disturbed. The Germans at that time respected theneutrality of these countries. They kept the treaties that had beenmade years before, guaranteeing these countries from invasion in caseof war. Bismarck, although a man of "blood" and "iron, " as a rule, respected treaties. 

With the French frontier bristling with guns, fortresses andentrenchments that had been deliberately prepared in advance, theGermans, in 1914, stood a good chance of being beaten in the firstround if they had attacked the eastern frontier of France on thedeclaration of war. Behind a ring of entrenchments the French Generalscould deliberately mass their armies, and the battle front could benarrowed to such an extent that the preponderance of numbers which theGermans could put in the field could not count. 

For some years, however, German military writers had been advocatingthat the German army of invasion should march through Belgium andLuxemburg. It was known that the latter country could not object, butwith Belgium it was different. The Belgians had been warned, and werebusy arming, under the leadership of their ruler, who was universallybeloved. The Belgians are a proud people, and since the days of Cęsarthey had on numerous occasions hurled the invading Germans back andheld their homes and frontiers inviolate. The Germans, however, imagined, that once their vast armies crossed the Meuse and began amarch on Namur and Charleroi, the martial ardor of the Belgians wouldcool and that beyond a formal protest, no resistance would beoffered. 

As France and Belgium had been on terms of friendship for many years, the Franco-Belgian frontier had not been protected by fortresses. TheGerman frontier of Belgium, however, had been fortified some yearsbefore under the direction of a famous Belgian engineer, namedBrailmont, who was the successor of other eminent military Belgianengineers, such as Vauban, who had taught the art of fortification toa previous age. 

On August 2nd, 1914, the Germans declared war on France, and the Firstfield army of Austro-Germans crossed the Meuse near Liege. For twoweeks the Germans delayed before Liege, expecting that the Frenchwould send several armies into Belgium and thus weaken the forcesbefore Metz. The French generals refused the bait, and were ready whenthe German main army struck along the old road from Metz to Paris. TheGermans were defeated and left 40, 000 dead on the battlefield. Thiswas the greatest battle in the history of the world. 

Great Britain declared war on Germany for violating the neutrality ofBelgium and the war feeling in Canada became intense. It was realizedthat Canada must participate. The only question was what form aidwould take. 

For a number of years the question of the "German Peril" had beendiscussed, but a great many people imagined that the anti-German talkwas a mild form of Jingoism. It soon became known that Great Britainwould accept the defence of the sea as her share of the war, and thatonly a small field army would be sent abroad. The great question for afew days was, would Canada be allowed to send a contingent to servewith the Allies? Again, as in the case of the South African war, thearm-chair critics were in favor of drafting a number of Canadians toserve with the British regiments. Sir Robert Borden, however, was notlong in making it known that a contingent of Canadians would beenlisted and that they would serve abroad as a unit, under their ownofficers. Then there was much rejoicing. 

The next question that arose was whether the unit was to be composedof regiments of militia, drafts from militia regiments, or recruitsfrom outside the militia. The Minister of Militia and Defence promptlyannounced that he would accept battalions or units from Militiaregiments and that the men would serve under their own officers. Thiswas highly satisfactory. 

The guiding hand of his Royal Highness the Duke of Connaught, Governor-General, the first soldier of Europe, was seen everywhere, atthe beginning and throughout the war. It was a fortunate matter forCanada that he was Governor-General at the time. 

To the Prime Minister, Sir Robert Borden, was due the splendidresponse to the call to arms of the Canadian people. He put dutybefore public applause of petty politics like a true Canadian. Futuregenerations will do full credit to his unselfishness. 

Sir Wilfrid Laurier, the leader of the Opposition, brushing aside allpartizanship, earnestly seconded the efforts of the Government. Hissplendid patriotism never rose to greater heights than in this tryingtime. 

A meeting of the 48th Highlanders was immediately called at theOfficers' quarters, and they were asked to say whether they desiredthe regiment to go as a complete battalion. The first man to say "yes"was the regimental surgeon, Major MacKenzie, whose subsequent servicesat Flanders were of great value. Other officers tendered theirservices and it was seen at once that there would be plenty ofofficers; as for the men, numbers were available, and it was decidedthen and there that the regiment would go as a unit. Some officerscould not see their way to go. Business and family ties preventedthem. Happy is that militia regiment whose senior officers are at alltimes ready to sacrifice their business as well as their lives in theservice of the country. 

It was my duty as the Commanding Officer to see the Minister ofMilitia at once and tender the services of the 48th Highlanders as aunit. Those were strenuous days for the Minister. At Ottawa I foundhim surrounded by his staff, with sleeves rolled up, dealing withheaps of correspondence and a long row of people outside in theante-room waiting to see him. I asked him if he would take theRegiment, kilts and all, and he promptly said he would, that in a fewhours orders would be issued for the Militia to enlist for foreignservice and that a great camp of instruction would be formed atValcartier, where they would all be prepared for overseas service. Inthe meantime, the units enlisting or volunteering would be drilled atlocal Headquarters, and the 48th and the Toronto units would go intocamp at Long Branch for a few weeks. The announcement was made in thepress that the 48th had volunteered, under my command, and on myreturn I ordered a parade of the regiment on Friday, August 8th, tostart work for overseas and open recruit classes. 

On Friday evening, the battalion paraded nine hundred and fifty-threestrong. The great Armories were thronged with people and hundreds hadto be refused permission to enter. The people were filled with the warspirit and the excitement was intense. The two bands were on hand, thebrass with forty-five musicians and the pipes with twenty pipers. Thebattalion marched through the streets, and all along the line of marchfor over a mile the streets were so thronged with a cheering crowdthat it was almost impossible for the men in fours to march through. Thousands of flags waved and the people were much excited. Some onefor a joked waved the German flag at the head of the regiment and in amoment it was torn from his hand and trampled to pieces by the crowd. The joker had a narrow escape with his life. That night, three hundredand fifty-five recruits joined for overseas service. Many men in theregiment had served for years and in some instances father and sonstood side by side in the ranks. 

It was felt it would not be fair to take many men of middle age along. This was going to be a long war and required young men, and the agelimit was put at thirty years, the height at five feet eight inchesand the chest measurement at thirty-eight inches. These were thelimits given to the recruiting sergeants, and with lots of menoffering, we knew that we would have no difficulty in getting all werequired. 

Orders for the mobilization, on the 15th of August, of the CanadianMilitia, were issued. Instructions for the Toronto Corps to go intotraining at Long Branch were also given and I was instructed thatwhilst at Long Branch I would have to officiate as Brigadier. On the17th of August the 48th Highlanders paraded at the Armories and, headed by the pipers playing "We will take the High Road, " theymarched to the Union Station and entrained for Long Branch Camp. 

Long Branch is located about twelve miles west of the City of Toronto. Here there is an excellent Rifle Range and ample accommodation forfour or five thousand men. Major Sweny, a Canadian officer in theBritish Army, who was attached to the Canadian instructional staff, and Major Dixon, acted as Brigade staff officers, and very soon thecamp was in running order. 

The first night the Battalion spent in camp there was a terriblethunder-storm, one of the worst in years. It was our first night onactive service and no doubt many wondered if this presaged the futureof the "Red Watch" in Flanders. 

There was not much sleep for the Commanding Officer that night. Whatwith the terrific storm which lit up the landscape as light as day, and the newly-acquired responsibility of drilling and disciplining abattalion of raw troops for the war, the outlook spelt much hard work. Drilling a Battalion of Militia once a week was fun compared with suchwork, for besides the foot and arm drill there was the field training, and worst of all, the training of the men and non-commissionedofficers in the duties of a soldier in quarters and in the field. Thematerial was of the very best quality, comprising college men, business men, and men associated with the industrial life of thecountry. The responsibility of its form and future rested on itscommanding officer. The officers and non-commissioned officers had tobe trained from the beginning. In the British army the tradition ofthe duties of officers and non-commissioned officers, --the interioreconomy of the regiment--descends from generation to generation asunwritten laws or rules. Certain things are done in a certain way, often differently from other corps, in memory of some event in thehistory of the regiment. We had no standing orders and no regimentaltraditions. In a regular regiment a non-com. Learns how to "carry on"his work from practical experience and seeing other non-coms. Doingtheir work. Long before he becomes a "duty" non-com. , he knows what todo. In our case these duties would have to be taught by means oflectures. This would be difficult. The first morning we were in camp, classes for the officers and non-commissioned officers were started. The Adjutant, Captain Darling, and Lieutenant Warren, who was madeAssistant Adjutant, rendered very valuable services at this juncture, as did also Sergeant-Major Grant, Sergeant Alex. Sinclair, who wasgiven a Commission, and Sergeant Radcliffe, who subsequently became aCompany Commander in one of the Battalions of the Staffordshireregiment, and was wounded at the Dardanelles. The men were turned overfor musketry instruction to Captain McGregor. Fortunately, we hadseveral good musketry instructors, among them Sergeant Hawkins, winnerof the King's prize at Bisley, Sergeant Graham and Sergeant Williams, bayonet instructor. 

All young men who desired to qualify as non-coms. And instructors wereasked to join these classes, and they responded in large numbers. Theybecame highly efficient, and when we went to England, quite a fewtransferred to the New Army as instructional officers and rose veryrapidly in the British service. 

The organization and discipline of the Light Division in thePeninsular War, trained by Sir John Moore and General Crauford, hasalways been noted as a model for future armies. It was decided tofollow as closely as possible this system, and the Standing Orders ofthe Light Division, that served with such distinction under the Dukeof Wellington in Spain, Portugal and France, became the basis of thestanding orders of our new Highland battalion. The instructionalclasses, once established, ran on very smoothly. Great stress was laidupon acquiring a good clear, decisive and loud word of command. Thereis nothing that will galvanize a Highland Battalion into action like asharp word of command with the "rs" well sounded. 

The duties of Brigadier at Long Branch did not prove as onerous asexpected, as the units that went out for training there were officeredby experienced instructors who were accustomed to training camps atNiagara, so the work of hammering the various troops into shapeproceeded very rapidly. The anti-militarists, however, were very busyand persisted in anonymously calling me up by telephone and pointingout to me what a terrible thing it was to take up arms against theKaiser and to take so many fine men off with me to the war. Otherswrote annoying anonymous letters calling down the wrath of Heaven onmy head for trying to mix Canada in the war, whilst a third factionsuffering from the Celtic gift of second sight described howmysterious falling stars and meteors flashing across the sky at night, and other portents, presaged dire disaster to the British arms in thewar, and more particularly to the 48th Highlanders. 

Staff officers, Majors Dixon and Sweny, were both soon called toValcartier to help organize the first contingent. Later, Major Swenyleft for England to join his regiment, which had been ordered to theFront. Had Major Sweny remained in Canada he no doubt would have beengiven a command high up on the staff, and very rapid promotion, but hechose to play the manlier part, and joined his own regiment in Englandwhen called. The war gave him well deserved promotion. 

On August the 18th, the House of Commons met in Ottawa and the Speechfrom the Throne was read by His Royal Highness the Duke of Connaught, khaki being the uniform of the military men present. A short visit toOttawa to say good-bye to colleagues in the House of Commons, a brieftrip to Collingwood in my constituency to lay the corner stone of anew postoffice building, and I was back again at the work of preparingfor Flanders. The soldiers were hardly settled in camp at Long Branch, when orders were given that every man would have to be inoculatedagainst typhoid, and the process began on a Saturday. The men lined upcheerfully and let the regimental surgeon, Major MacKenzie, jab aneedle and the serum into their arms. 

The following Sunday there was a Church parade. The sermon waspreached by Rev. Major Crawford Brown, the regimental Chaplain. Thevarious units in camp paraded at a small natural amphitheatre near thelines. Many people motored out from Toronto to attend the service. Theband of the regiment, under Lieut. John Slatter, came out and suppliedthe music for the service. The day was beautifully bright and a triflewarm. After the sermon had commenced, many of the men began to feelthe effects of the serum and a few toppled over, and for the firsttime the new battalion heard the call of "stretcher bearer. " The menwere all ordered to sit down. The effect of the inoculation is to makeone have real typhoid for a few hours, after that there is a quickrecovery, and the absence of typhoid among the men subsequently spokevolumes for the efficacy of the preventative. 

Every evening the battalion had a camp fire and "sing-song, " andhundreds of people came out from Toronto to join in the fun, whichconsisted of band music, choruses and Highland dancing. The dayspassed very pleasantly and quickly. On August 27th, orders arrived forthe battalion to go to Valcartier to join the contingent being formedthere for overseas service, and an advance party left for that campat once. The date for the departure of the battalion was fixed forSaturday, August 29th. That was to be the first march on the road toFlanders. 

CHAPTER V

ORGANIZING IMPERIAL BATTALIONS

The work of organizing and equipping the Canadian Imperial battalionsfor overseas service was taken up with great vigor by the Minister ofMilitia, Major-General Sir Sam Hughes, and the officers of hisDepartment. 

Owing to the influence of the churches the best class of youth in thecountry came forward in large numbers. The Clergy appealed to theathletes that had been trained in the Gymnasiums of the Y. M. C. A. , andthe ranks soon contained a large sprinkling of Canadian lacrosse andhockey players. It was afterwards to be shown that the manly andstrenuous native Canadian sports, lacrosse and hockey, practised byalmost every boy in the country from the time he is able to walk, areof a character admirably suited to produce bold and courageoussoldiers. Boys who have been accustomed to handle lacrosse and hockeysticks, develop arm and shoulder muscles that make the carrying anduse of the rifle easy. Firing for hours during a hot and sustainedengagement does not fatigue nor exhaust them as it otherwise would. Inthe rough work of the bayonet charge, they keep their heads, and haveconfidence in their ability at close quarters to overcome theirantagonist. They do not dread a blow or a bayonet, for they have beenaccustomed to roughing it all their lives. When it comes to "coldsteel, " it is the man who has the courage and confidence in himselfthat wins, for nineteen times out of twenty the other man is dominatedbefore blades are crossed, and at once either throws up his hands orruns. 

The moral character and influence of these men permeated the firstcontingent, with the result that never since the days of Cromwell'sNew Army did the Empire possess a more athletic, courageous orGod-fearing army than the First Canadian Contingent. The work ofcarving the name of "Canada" in the annals of the war was entrusted tothe hands of these clean, sober, religious, athletic young men. Howthey kept this trust history in future ages will tell in letters ofgold. Many clergymen of various denominations who had been foremost inpreaching Pacifism, upon hearing of the ruthless invasion of Belgium, realized the hollow sham of German culture, and saw the Hun in histrue light. With the Empire plunged into a great war, it was not atime to consider the ancient and pampered ideas of consistency. Untilthe German was destroyed there could be no peace of any kind. To theireternal credit, be it said, they flung themselves whole-heartedly intothe cause, and none equalled them in preaching resistance, recruitingand working night and day for the Red Cross Society and various otherpatriotic and national organizations. 

With such vast numbers of men coming forward there was a good deal ofdiscussion as to who should be first taken, the arguments being verymuch in favor of the veterans or "ribbon" men who had seen service inprevious campaigns. About two thousand of the men who had gone fromCanada to the South African war were still living, and a great manyveterans from the Old Country had immigrated to Canada, and with fewexceptions they unhesitatingly offered their services. If they passedthe surgeon they were taken on, and afterwards they did good service. They were especially numerous in the Princess Pats, the BritishColumbian and Western Regiments. These men, although foreign born, prided themselves on being "Canadians. " They increased, however, thepercentage of those in the first contingent born outside of Canada, but the officers of the first contingent almost to a man wereCanadians. 

On Saturday, August 29th, 1914, our Battalion paraded early in themorning and bade farewell to Long Branch Camp. The night before weleft we had a "sing-song" or concert. Arrangements had been made forus to take cars for Toronto in the morning and rendezvous at theArmories during the noon-hour, when the men would be allowed to seetheir friends or sweethearts. We entrained safely and made a braveshow as we marched up Queen Street to the Armories, the pipes playing"Highland Laddie. " Shortly after one o'clock the people began togather and they soon filled the drill hall. There was very littlegloom and everybody was cheerful. 

As we fell in, the Lieutenant-Governor, Sir John Gibson, and LadyGibson, arrived and they spoke to me of their son, Lieutenant FrankGibson, who was one of my officers, expressing their pleasure at hisbeing an officer of the corps. A gallant young soldier he was, indeed;a graduate of the Royal Military College, and always wearing apleasant smile. Other parents spoke of their sons to me. Some of theolder officers of the garrison were afraid that my officers were tooyoung and that we did not have enough officers of mature years, butexperience was to show that age does not give a monopoly of courage orbravery, nor of fortitude and good judgment. 

Memorable addresses were delivered by the Lieutenant-Governor, theMayor of the City, Mr. Hocken, and by the Chaplain Major, the Rev. Crawford Brown. His excellent address was full of comfort and cheerfor the men. He told them it was a great honor to be permitted to goto the front and that their country would always esteem them and owethem a debt of gratitude. The Armories rang with cheers as the pipesstruck up the war tune, "Well take the High Road, " and the battalionswung out of the doors and into the drizzling rain that was falling, but in spite of which, thousands of people lined the streets. Everystep we took the excitement became more intense, and by the time wereached the Don Station where we were to entrain for Valcartier, almost all semblance of order was gone from the ranks. Young ladiescarried the men's rifles, others decorated them with flowers, othersclung to their arms and the sidewalks were a mass of excited cheeringhumanity. Friends and relations came from all over the Province ofOntario to see the regiment off for the front. I have seen many crowdsin my life, and excited ones at that, but the crowd that covered theDon Bridge above the station and every available vantage point andavenue that led to our train that afternoon was by long odds thelargest. It was estimated that 100, 000 gathered to see us off. Thefarewell the people gave us was very touching. There were no tears, nowailing, but cheers, earnestness and good will, and a hearty send-off. In spite of the crowd the men found their way to their respectivecars, and we pulled out of the station on the second lap of ourjourney to the Front, on time. 

Lieutenant Barwick acted as transport officer and the parade stateshowed 970 men and officers. 

We had an excellent run on the Canadian Northern Railway to Quebec, but lost a little time there and were late in reaching Valcartier. Themen had their blankets, rifles, and equipment complete with them. Theywere fitted out ready for the field with everything but ammunition. 

When we arrived at Valcartier it was still raining, but the troopsalready there turned out and lined the roadway to cheer and see usmarch in. The Minister of Militia met us at the station, together withLt. -Colonel Murphy of Ottawa, and guides led us to the lines where wewere to be quartered for the night. 

Nature has done much to adorn Valcartier and every mile along the roadfrom Quebec to this beautiful valley is rich in historic associations. First, there is the St. Charles river, whose shallows and mud flatsfoiled General Wolfe in his first assault upon Quebec. A few milesalong we came near to the ruins of the famous Chateau Noir orHermitage of Intendant Bigot, made famous in story by Kirby in "LeChien D'Or;" by Sir Gilbert Parker in "The Seats of the Mighty"; byW. D. Howells and by Joseph Marinette. Only a heap of ruins are left. The famous maze is gone, chopped into firewood, no doubt. Stillnightly the spirit of Caroline, according to local traditions, haunts the spot where she was murdered by her jealous rival, MadamePean. Further on, there is the village of Loretto where hundreds ofyears ago the first mission to the Indians was established in Canada. Here are living to-day the last of that mighty Indian tribe, theHurons, who in the beginning cast in their lot with the Frenchsettlers, and paid for it later by being annihilated by the fierceIroquois, the Allies of the British. For over two hundred years, since1697, this remnant have lived in security within the sound of LorettoFalls, and worshipped for over one hundred and fifty years in theMission Church of Loretto, which is a replica of the Santa Casa ofLoretto and contains a copy of the Loretto figure of the Virgin. 

 [Illustration: OFFICERS OF THE 48TH HIGHLANDERS

 From Left to Right--Top Row: Lt. J. A. M. Livingstone, (W); Lt. W. P. Malone; Lt. L. V. Jones, (G. P. ); Lt. H. M. Scott, (G); Lt. G. P. Taylor, (K); Lt. R. H. Davidson; Lt. Q. T. Langmuir, (K); Hon. Capt. Moffat, Chaplain; Lt. H. A. Barwick, (G. P. ); Lt. F. M. Gibson, (K). 

 Second Row Standing: Lt. A. J. Sinclair, (W); Lt. E. W. Bickle, (W. G. ); Lt. A. E. Muir, (K); Lt. C. V. Fessenden, (G. P. ); Lt. E. O. Bath, (G. P. ); Lt. W. B. Lawson; Lt. F. H. C. MacDonald, (G. P. ); Lt. F. J. Smith, (G. P. ); Lt. J. A. Dansereau (W. G. ); Lt. W. W. Jago, (W); Lt. W. Mavor, (G. W. 3); Lt. P. G. Campbell; Lt. P. P. Acland, M. C. , (W). 

 Sitting Down; Capt. Frank Perry; Capt. A. M. Daniels, (K); Capt. C. H. Musgrove, (W); Capt. F. G. M. Alexander, M. C. , (G. P. ); Surgeon Major A. J. MacKenzie; Lt. Col. Wm. Hendrie, (Divisional Remount Officer); Col. J. A. Currie, M. P. , (G), (Commanding Officer); Major W. R. Marshall, D. S. O. , (K); Major J. E. K. Osborne, (W. G. P. ): Capt. G. H. McLaren, (G. ); Capt. A. R. McGregor, (K. ); Capt. R. R. McKessock, (G. W. P. ). ]

Further on, the road leads to where, through a deep gash in the mightyLaurentian Mountains, the Jacques Cartier river makes its troubled wayto the broad St. Lawrence. There, in a beautiful wide valley, amidhigh mountains rising in graceful terraces from the river andoverlooking the St. Lawrence, about one hundred years ago, a number ofveterans that had followed Wellington to Waterloo formed a settlement, and beat their swords into ploughshares. They sleep now in the villagechurchyard, unmindful of drum or trumpet. Their descendents livedthere only yesterday, but now their lands had been bought out toprovide the grounds for Valcartier Camp. 

The outlook for us was not very inviting after the clean camps pitchedin the green fields at Long Branch, but the Department had donewonders during the time at its disposal. In less than three weeks aswamp had been cleared up, streets laid out with water mains, and evenin some places sidewalks were laid. Mount Roby resounded to the shrillblast of the bugle, the rattle of rifles and the roar of field guns. The work of making a camp on a large scale was being carried out byhundreds of workmen, under foremen skilled in laying out cities andtowns in Western Canada. The day after we arrived we were given ourown lines and we settled down to hard work. 

We transferred to our battalion enough men to fill our ranks up to theImperial Establishment of 1, 170 rank and file, including the basecompany and the transport. In order to accomplish this smalldetachments were taken from the 95th regiment, Cobalt and Sudbury, composed of miners and prospectors, also from the 31st Regiment, ofGrey County, and the 13th Scottish Dragoons. 

The 48th Highlanders, the "Red Watch, " became the 15th Battalion ofthe First Canadian Division, C. E. F. It was subsequently, with all itsofficers, N. C. O. 's and men, granted the status of a Regular ImperialRegiment and given its name, "48th Highlanders, " in the British ArmyList. 

The regiment was turned over by the commanding officer, fullyuniformed and equipped for the field as a regular Highland battalionwithout expense to the Crown except for rifles, bayonets andknapsacks, thus saving the country $25, 000. 

The camp was under the command of Colonel Victor Williams. It was nosmall task to clothe, equip and drill, ready for active warfare, somethirty-three thousand men. No liquor was allowed in the camp and therewas very little difficulty with the men. 

On Sunday, September 7th, the Division was reviewed by the Duke ofConnaught. The battalions marched past in lines of half-battalions andmade a very good showing. 

Night and day the officers and men were hard at it. One of thegreatest of many difficulties that were met was the selection of theofficers and men for the contingent. 

At first it was suggested that all the officers should be examined asto their fitness, and a Board was appointed to look them over, but ina few days this Board threw up its hands and the matter of selectionwas left to the Commanding Officers. 

Many who had never served in the Militia were clamoring for commandsand the Minister of Militia had some work on his hands. The contingentwas formed into brigades and our battalion was put into the HighlandBrigade, which consisted of our Regiment, the Royal Highlanders ofCanada, Montreal, the Royal Regiment of Montreal, made up principallyof French-Canadians, and the 16th battalion, subsequently called theCanadian Scottish, a composite corps consisting of Highland Companiesfrom Victoria and Vancouver, B. C. , from Winnipeg, Manitoba, and fromHamilton, Ontario. Each company wore a different tartan, but that didnot interfere with their efficiency. Colonel Turner, V. C. , was giventhe command. 

On the 14th of September we were again reviewed by His Royal Highness, in the presence of General Crozier, an American officer. Rain to someextent interfered, as it had with the previous review. On Sunday, September 20th, Canon Scott, of Quebec, preached a field sermon to theDivision. A platform had been erected and His Excellency and his stafftook part in the service and subsequently reviewed the troops. ThePrime Minister, Sir Robert Borden, arrived in the morning and calledon our battalion. Our officers were all introduced. He was accompaniedby Lady Borden. The transports were already beginning to gather in theSt. Lawrence that were to carry the contingent to England. Ourequipment was very nearly complete and enough drill had been given tomake us fairly respectable. We all thought we were fit for the field. We learnt differently afterwards. 

It is very strange how the idea seems to get hold of a man, the minutehe gets into khaki uniform, that he is a fully-trained soldier. InCanada, for years, we had no regular soldiers, and the traininggenerally was of a kind patterned after the South African War. Strawhats and overalls were worn by the infantry, and the irregular cavalryswagger was the fashion. It was fondly imagined that any Canadian whocould shoot straight and who had a week's training could take hisplace in the ranks and would be just as good a soldier as a regular ofthe King's first Army. No sooner was a man in uniform than everybodybegan asking him the question "When are you going to the Front?"assuming that was a question he could settle himself, and that hewould be anything but in the way and a nuisance at the Front, owing tohis lack of discipline and training. The public in this way made themen's and officers' lives very miserable. It was almost impossible tosettle down to a hard course of training. Lord Kitchener had placedthe period necessary for getting a man into shape as a soldier at sixmonths. By great effort that period might be shortened, but from theexperience we gained nine months would be nearer the mark. Thetraining could be hurried by giving two months of foot and arm drill, two months' special training of the men in special units, such assignallers, stretcher bearers, machine gunners, bomb throwers, etc. , and two months in hard field-training with lots of night work. But thepress of the country was clamoring for us to go to the Front, andpublic opinion said "hurry. " The battalions were all organized andorders came for us to move on the 29th of September. 

There was a slight drizzle of rain in the morning when we paraded forthe march out. Our transport waggons had to move out early and marchto Quebec, and it was a difficult job to get them started. 

I had done everything in my power to suppress gambling and swearingamong the men, and on several occasions when individuals were paradedbefore me for using bad language, I had reprimanded them and informedthem that the use of strong language was always left to the OfficerCommanding. This particular morning some choice words had to be usedto get the transport moving. They moved, however, to the tick of theclock and Sergeant-Major Grant, with a grin on his face, suggestedthat from now on there would be no more swearing in the ranks, aseverybody was quite satisfied with the Commanding officer'squalifications in that regard. 

Again the pipes struck up "We'll take the High Road, " and after amarch of about a mile and a half to a siding, we entrained in twosections for Quebec. 

At Quebec we had not long to wait. The transport "Megantic, " one ofthe finest ships on the North Atlantic, was hauled up at the pier withlong planks out to take our regiment on board. The horses and waggonswere to go on a separate ship, although there was plenty of room forthem on board. We were all glad to get away, for it was becomingmonotonous having everybody we met asking "When are you going away?"

CHAPTER VI

THE NEW ARMADA

The St. Lawrence River at Quebec presented a busy scene. Never sincethe days of the Tercentennial of the discovery of the River by JacquesCartier, when King George and the British fleet, headed by H. M. S. "TheIndomitable, " were present, was there so much activity, or so manyships in the harbor. As soon as each transport was loaded it pulledaway from the pier and dropped anchor in the stream. When all ourtroops were on board the "Megantic" we cast loose, pulled up thestream off Cape Diamond, and "dropped our hook, " as a landsman in theranks was heard to remark. The hotels and boarding houses of the Citywere filled with friends of the men who had come on excursions to bidthe soldiers good-bye. The City was full of life and activity andbrilliantly lighted up and the scene at night was very beautiful. OldCape Diamond wearing its crown and sparkling with thousands ofelectric lights looked its name. In its shadow on the evening beforehe climbed the heights at Ainse d'Fulon Cove, now dim and silent inthe distance, to win the immortal battle of the Plains of Abraham, General Wolfe had recited Gray's "Elegy" and unconsciously theprophetic words "The Paths of Glory lead but to the Grave" arose inthe mind. In these shadows Wolfe had brooded over those plans which ona succeeding morrow were to mature and lead to three of the greatestepochs in the history of the world--the fall of Quebec, which placedin the hands of Britannia the trident of the world's naval supremacy, destroying the foundations of the ancient regime of France, and layingthe corner stone of the great American Republic. 

Some one among the crew was humming the refrain of the oldanchor-hoisting song, "Le Chien d'Or--I love your Daughter;" a melodythat has haunted the River St. Lawrence since the day when hiscomrades forcibly carried off Admiral Nelson, then a "middy, " from thewiles and fascinations of the daughter of the landlord of "Le Chiend'Or. "

The distant tramp of battalions, the rumble of battery after batteryas they marched through the crooked streets, came faintly from theshore. The slumbers of a hundred years of peace had been rudelybroken. Europe was ablaze. The hands of the clock of civilization hadbeen turned back a century. The Empire was again threatened and Canadawas at war. 

We lay in the river off Quebec from Saturday night until Tuesdayevening, when we pulled up to the pier again and took on fresh water. The Captain had asked me if the bar was to be opened. I said, "No, close it up, " which he did most cheerfully, remarking that it was thefirst time in twenty-seven years that the White Star line had sailed a"dry ship. " He had thought he had plenty of water to take us toEngland, but after three days' experience with a lot of dryHighlanders he came to the conclusion he was mistaken, so he pulled upalongside of the dock again, and a miserable stream of water trickledslowly into the tanks, all afternoon and evening. 

Colonel Penhale of the Divisional Ammunition Column was on board andentitled to seniority. I was very glad to be rid of the responsibilityof ship management, with its round of inspections at all hours and inall weathers. 

We had no sooner got settled on board than I asked the Captain to giveus a plan of his lifeboat stations so that the men could assemble ifnecessary, without any confusion, at their posts at the lifeboats inthe shortest possible time. I got this plan and then the troublebegan. The orderly room began to attach the men to their stations bylists and I waited patiently for a day and there was still nothing butconfusion, showing how difficult it is for an office to run a gang ofmen, something I had learned long ago. The Adjutant said "Rush, " andevery time a list was made out it was found that some names weremissing and then fresh lists had to be made over again. Finally I tookthe sketch of the ship, showing the position of the boats, called theCaptains of the companies and divided up the boat space among them, and told them to first place the men of their companies at thedifferent stations with their life belts on, call the rolls of eachboat squad, then dismiss them, and that in an hour or so I was goingto "beat" the troops "to quarters. " In an hour I caused the alarmbugle to sound and there was some scrambling, but I inspected thedecks and found every man at his post with his life-belt on. The firsttime it took twenty-five minutes. We did this turn three times, sothat the men soon knew the direct road from their berths to thelifeboats and were able to get into position in ten minutes, which isconsidered very good. 

A time table of physical drill was prepared and carried out everymorning and evening. From 9 to 10. 30 the right half battalionpractised first twenty minutes' run round the deck, then the balanceof the time they spent at physical drill. This was repeated again inthe afternoon, and the men were all fit when we landed. Officers andall had to go the round. 

We pulled out of Quebec on Wednesday night at 10. 15 and very sooneverybody settled down to sleep. The night was dark and still as wefloated down past Cape Diamond. We had a splendid ship, and every dayour admiration of her increased. Even if there was a gale outside, theship was as steady as a church. Every three men had a room and therewas a berth for each one. They lived like millionaires. As for theofficers and sergeants they had every comfort. 

Our Captain was a very fine man by the name of James. He was anEnglishman from Liverpool, with an aristocratic air, but quite modest, a gentleman and a seaman every inch of him. 

Finally, we pulled into the stream and departed for parts unknown. Wehad a beautiful trip down the St. Lawrence. The sun was shining nextday, and on the shore we could see the outlines of the French-Canadianvillages, the long narrow farms and big churches. As we neared GaspePeninsula the mountains in the distant background were covered withsnow. One by one we overhauled the steamers that left before us. In theevening we were off Flame Point, having dropped our pilot. At FlamePoint they burned blue rockets or flares on the shore at dusk to giveus a send-off. Gradually we swung around Gaspe Peninsula as dusk closedin. It was then we learned that sealed orders had been given theCaptain to rendezvous at Gaspe Basin. Soon we came in sight of thelights that mark the entrance to this harbor. The Captain had hissounding-line going, and I was on the upper deck with the signallers. Pretty soon we made out the outlines of a small ship shrouded indarkness. We turned our signalling lamp on her and asked her name. In amoment came the answer "British Warship, don't go into the harbor untildaylight. " The Captain could not find bottom with his anchor with onehundred fathoms of chain out, so he had to stay outside, backing andgoing ahead, all night. We all went to bed feeling secure, with thatcruiser lying a short distance away. When I woke up in the morning thebugles were sounding the "Officers' Call" to breakfast. I looked out ofmy cabin window and after dressing, hastily scrambled on deck. Thesight in Gaspe Basin was one never to be forgotten. Twenty-eighttransports were swinging at anchor, many of them the flower of theNorth Atlantic merchant fleet. The ship we were on was the finest ofthe White Star Line, the "Megantic. " Some distance away was her sistership the "Laurentic, " also the "Franconia, " the "Allonia, " the "RoyalGeorge, " and the "Royal Edward, " all first-class ships. The weather wasbright, clear and warm, and the water of the Basin as smooth as oil. 

Some of our officers got letters before they left Quebec, stating thaton the previous Sunday prayers had been offered up in the churches forthe safety of the contingent, which was supposed to be at sea, whileit was riding quietly at anchor in Quebec harbor. We were waiting forthe last of the transports to come before we left. About ten o'clock Iwas on the bridge, when I heard cheering, and some one calling myname. I ran down the deck, and saw the Minister of Militia, who hadcome on alongside on a tug. He was going the rounds of the fleet. Hespent a day among the ships, and there was a good deal of talk abouthis going on board one of the transports, but he did not. We allexpected to see him waiting for us when we landed in England. The daypassed quietly. No one was allowed ashore. The ship's gig went down tosee some of the other ships of the White Star fleet and we got some ofour belated mail. On Saturday we were to sail with the ebb tide. Allthe transports had come in and there was assembled in Gaspe Basin thegreatest Armada that ever set sail for British shores. We were goingin this great Armada to assist the Mother Country to maintain the PaxBritannicum. There were over twenty-five thousand men in thirty-onetransports. They were anchored in the harbor in lines, and as the tiderose and fell they shifted about, now heading one way, and after thelapse of a few hours, in another direction. The Government had kindlyissued to the officers Colt Automatic Pistols and high power fieldglasses. My glasses were of a very high power, and I could pick outthe figures of the women and men working about the farm houses fivemiles away. The British warships in the basin were obsolete smallcruisers of slow speed, the "Diana, " the "Eclipse, " the "Talbot" andthe "Charybdis. " The latter was the flagship of the Admiral. We lookedupon these ships with a good deal of apprehension. The "Dresden" or"Karlsruhe, " the German ships in the Atlantic, would only have amouthful in any one of them, in fact in the whole four. They allanchored apart in a separate part of the harbor, and the signaller onthe Admiral's ship amused himself by signalling, "Is your bar open?""How is the Scotch?" Our men answered back in kind. This mosquitofleet appeared to have a big job on its hands to convoy this Armadaacross. Presently a naval "gent, " or "hossifer" as some of the crewcalled him, came aboard, and gave the Captain his secret instructions, that is, the formation of the convoy, and a rendezvous for each day incase the convoy was scattered by fog, storm or other cause. TheCaptain said we were to sail at three o'clock, in three columns, right, centre and left line, with some ten ships in each line. Thespeed was to be ten knots. We were to lead the left line, with H. M. S. "Eclipse" four cable lengths ahead. The "Charybdis" was to lead thecentre, and the "Diana" the left of the line, while the "Talbot" actedas a rear guard. Our ship started out first. The Captain of the"Eclipse" sent the height of his mast back to our Captain and we keptthe distance constantly by the officer of the deck reading off theproper angle with the sextant. In and out our line threaded, and thenbegan to zig-zag, until by-and-bye we were out of sight of Gaspe Capeand all three lines were abreast. 

On the afternoon of the last day before we left a black gas boatfilled with people came away from the shore. I scanned them carefullywith my glasses. They came within a couple of hundred yards of ourship and after halting, went past, looking over the rest of the fleet. The crew were men and women, evidently fisherfolk, all except onewoman, who sat huddled in the stern. She looked very much like aGerman and under her rough coat she had a fine blouse and goodclothes. I had my suspicions and could not help thinking she waseither a newspaper woman or a German spy. I was surprised to find thatwhen I mentioned this boat to the Captain at the dinner table, he saidshe had a suspicious passenger on board, like a "German woman. " He wassome observer, was Captain James, R. N. R. He said "My word, we had onelike her on board the last passage over. I set sail north forGreenland, keeping out of the way and coming in by Belle Isle. Thiswoman had a basket on her arm when she came on board. I noticed herbasket, and the pigeons in it soon found their way to the pot. I tookthem from her. She raised a storm, but I did not want any carrierpigeons on board. They made good pie. "

Now I should say a word about this country before we leave it. TheBasin where we rendezvoued was beautiful and well protected. A numberof fishing boats flew white sails and proclaimed the principalindustry of the villagers. French-Canadians reside on the shore. Themost prominent objects on the horizon were the great churches thathave the customary gilded spire and the clusters of white cottagesabout them. The shore rises steeply and the farms taper back into theforests that crown the hills of the background, which rise fully onethousand feet above the sea. On our left hand as we left the Basinwere huge clay or sandstone cliffs cut away by the fierce swells ofthe Gulf. A lighthouse crowned the Point, with a flag staff from whicha Union Jack stood out in the wind as stiff as a board. On the leftthere were masses of rock to mark the shore line, and several smallislands. In one place we could plainly see an arched rock called"Pierced Rock, " where the sea passed below a natural bridge. 

The moon came up brightly as we sailed out into the Gulf. By-and-byeclouds fleeced about it and formed a peculiar halo resembling a cross. We took that for a good omen. We were speculating whether we were togo by Belle Isle or Cape Ray, but about nine o'clock the three linesset their course southeast and then we knew we were to take thesouthern route. The weather was all that could be desired, and thewater as smooth as a mill pond. It was slightly cool, as the breezesalways are from Newfoundland. In the morning we could see that ancientColony, Cape Rae, with its lighthouse and wireless station. We hadwireless on board, but were not allowed to use it except to interceptmessages. When the Captain took his observation at noon, October 4th, we were in Lat. N. 47° 36', Long. W. 59° 51'. On a chart at the maincompanion way each day's run was recorded with the latitude andlongitude. We had what they called north-easterly gales and fineweather. Along about noon we caught a glimpse of Cape Breton in thedistance. Nothing occurred all day. It was cloudy to the north andwest and clear to the south, with the sun shining. We had started adry canteen when we left Quebec, and it was doing a land officebusiness. No drinks of an intoxicating nature were sold on board. 

When the Captain took his observation we had only sailed 190 milesfrom Gaspe. The next day was fine. In the morning we saw a ship loomup on our left and the cruiser flew out to "speak" her. Evidently shewas all right, "The Bruce, " bound from Newfoundland to Sydney. Whenshe saw us first she started to run away, for the sight of our Armadawas a very impressive one. The chase lasted only a short time when shediscovered we were friends. Then in a very strange way a large greybattleship slid in from the horizon on our left and was etched againstthe bright sky. Volumes of smoke rose from her large funnels and twobig masts with fighting tops made her look quite formidable. She hadbeen out of sight just beyond the horizon all the time. We found thatshe was H. M. S. "Glory, " a dreadnought. It felt very comfortable tohave her there, speed twenty-three knots and four twelve-inch guns. 

Along in the afternoon two whales spouting water came along and had alook at the fleet. They kept with us for some time but presently gottired. 

At noon on the 5th, we were in Lat. 46° 17', Long. 35° 03', havingsailed 213 miles in the 24 hours. The transport "Monmouth" had beengiving us trouble, by constantly dropping back. The next day we wouldbe out of sight of Newfoundland, and we wondered what weather we wouldget. The men were kept busy drilling and exercising, so were theofficers. I was made Hon. President of the ship's Y. M. C. A. , and aconcert held on board netted a neat sum for the Patriotic fund. We hadfour preachers on board. We were to have had a priest, but in some wayhe did not turn up. To-day another steamer was chased by the"Charybdis" but she gave us the slip. She had the "legs" on us all, asthe Captain said, and disappeared into a bank of fog to the north. Then we got clear of Cape Race, which we did not see. The wind changedto southwest, and began breaking up the nasty swell that came downthe Atlantic. We had made in the twenty-four hours only 210 knots, ourposition being Lat. N. 45° 36', Long. W. 50° 11'. During the night therudder gear jammed and our ship began to run amuck among the fleet. Weall slept through it, but the Captain had to stay on deck till it wasfixed. No harm done. 

The next day was also fine. There had always been a storm behind us, but it had not yet caught up. On the 7th of October at noon we wereLat. 46° 46' N. , Long. 45° 25' W. , another 210 miles to our credit, and we were due about the 20th in Southampton at this rate. In theevening we were amused by a school of dolphins that chased each otherabout the ship, jumping out of the water, and acting up generally. Weexpected very soon to be in the Gulf stream, where the weather wouldbe milder. The electric heater in my room was hardly large enough tocope with the chill in the air. On the 8th we made 214 miles and the"Monmouth, " which was still giving trouble, was ordered up to thefront and signalled by the Admiral to "stoke up. " The Admiral had allthe Captains scared stiff. Along in the afternoon we got into the Gulfstream. A man threw a green canvas pail overboard, dipped it full andtook the temperature of the water. It was 56°. Next day at noon it was62°. 

On the 9th we made 250 miles, which was a record run. The "Monmouth"had found her second wind and was going strong. Some of the ships weretossing but not very much. I forgot to say that on the 7th, a soldieron the ship astern of us died. He was a reservist going home to rejoinhis regiment. The ship dropped out of the line and lowered her flag tohalf mast, and tolled her bell, whilst they buried him at sea. 

All this time the weather was all that could be desired, with brightsunny days, a mackerel sky and moonlight nights, the moon being at itsfull. 

The first night out, the Captain called my attention to a comet whichwas showing to the north, and according to traditions said to be aharbinger of war, but when we went to look for it with our glasses ithad gone down. We saw it on the evening of the 7th just south of thesecond star in the tail of the "Dipper" or Great Bear. Looking throughmy glasses, which were the most powerful on board, being more so thanthe ship's telescopes, I could see it quite clearly with a great tailstretching to the northeast. In a week or so it would be quite large. The weather continued bright and all the time a storm hung on behindus, but never caught up. 

On the 8th we got well into the Gulf stream, and the temperature ofthe water registered 62° to 65°. The nights had been so cold beforethis that I had to get out my eiderdown, but when we got into the warmwater, that had to be discarded. We had a bit of a swell from thenorth, and we all felt a shade miserable but not enough to be reallysick. During the day a large six-masted schooner, with a barge aheadof her, hove in sight and started down the line. The "Eclipse" wentafter her and led her out of the convoy line. "My, " said the Captainto me, "that fellow will have his ticket taken from him for notkeeping out of the way of a convoy. " I found that a complaint from anaval officer can take away the papers of an officer of the merchantservice. 

On Saturday the 10th, when I got up, and looked out of my window, thereon the port bow was another big warship. When I had a good look at her, I recognized that she was of what they call the Superdreadnought class. It turned out that she was the "Princess Royal, " nicknamed H. M. S. "Hellfire. " She has a speed of 34 knots an hour, and carried eight13-½" guns, besides being very heavily armoured. God help the Germanthat she marked down, for she was one of the most powerful fightingmachines afloat. 

On Saturday afternoon I gave the men a half-holiday, which theyappreciated very much. The officers spent their spare time playingshuffle board, and other games such as are practised on board ship. 

I gave lectures in the afternoons to officers on map reading andtopography. They were apparently very interested and a number of theoutside officers asked leave to attend. There was only one set ofinstruments for fifty officers so the class was carried on withdifficulty. Much had to be left till we got ashore. On Sundayreligious services were held by the various denominations. 

I forgot to say that on the morning of the 5th, off Cape Race, therewas an alarm in the convoy, a "man overboard. " The ships begansounding their horns, and the "Royal Edward, " with the "Princess Pats"on board, turned out of the line and began lowering her boats, at thesame time flying her flags. The next ship astern dropped a boat also, and the man was picked up after being in the chilly water for aboutfifteen minutes. Then the Admiral sent a message back that the menwere not to climb the rigging. 

On Sunday the "Allonia" left the convoy and went on ahead with theAdmiral. It was rumoured they had gone to try and get the BritishGovernment to send the contingent over to recover Antwerp, which welearned by wireless had fallen on Sunday. The gale continued all dayMonday with a misty fog from the north. We would be off Land's End inthe morning. 

On Sunday afternoon another warship of the Dreadnought class quietlytook her place ahead of us. It was H. M. S. "Majestic. " The sailors saidthat this was the finest voyage they had ever had at this time of theyear. 

On Monday, the 12th, we had a signalling competition amongst thecompanies. Each company had been teaching all the men the semaphorecode. It is a good thing to start with, but at the Front they use onlythe Morse system. About seventy-five per cent. Of the men of theregiment could read the semaphore alphabet very readily. When awarship sent a signal everybody on board read it. "H" Company won thesignalling competition. 

 [Illustration: GROUP NON-COMMISSIONED OFFICERS. 48TH HIGHLANDERS]

The same evening we had a concert given by "F" Company, commanded byCaptain Osborne. I was asked to attend and did so. It was a greatsuccess. 

I was wakened Monday morning by some one pounding on the door tellingme that land was in sight. I got up and dressed, had some tea and bunsand went on deck. There was Lizard Point ahead in the mist. It wasblowing a gale, but the sea was not very heavy. 

We detached from the convoy about ten o'clock on the 12th, and theswifter ships started to sail on, but still no one knew what ourdestination would be. Last evening the signallers brought us a messagefrom our General, whoever that might be, saying "dye white haversacks""and carry a day's rations, on disembarkation. " He did not know thatdye and coffee had run out so that the men could not dye their whitehaversacks. Somebody suggested to flag back, "send along some dye bywireless. " Our men's haversacks, however, were dyed drab when we gotthem, so we were all right. 

A case of measles developed on board, suspected to be German, --anothercase of German "frightfulness. " In the evening the water was calm andwarm and the night very dark. I went on deck to see the wonderfulphosphorescent display. The ship seemed to be floating in a sea ofgold, or rather sunshine. It was wonderful. 

We took a good look at Lizard's Point when we were passing about tenmiles off. There was a big white castle on a cliff and nice greenfarms. 

Before closing this chapter reference should be made to the goodconduct of all the officers and men. Our men on the signalling staffhad a hard time but they did their duty well. The men and officerswent ashore in the pink of condition. 

We got our first real glimpse of England on the 14th. Off EddystoneLight the pilot came on board. He was a very large portly man and verynervous about being dropped into the sea. I should judge he weighed atleast two hundred and fifty pounds. The ladder he had to climb wasmade of rope with the rungs woven in, and he made them heave him aline which he fastened about his body. 

When he came on board we were informed for the first time that ouroriginal destination was to have been Southampton, and that it had beenchanged, by a wireless message from Eddystone Lighthouse that morning, to Plymouth. The evening before, the warship "Princess Royal" camesteaming down the line. She was on our left. She crossed our columnabout half way down--dressed her decks and spars--her crew all inwhite--and passed upon the right of our column so close that you couldtoss a biscuit on her deck. She is a magnificent fighting machine. Ourmen all lined the decks and every available space and cheeredthemselves hoarse. That ship is the fastest warship afloat. Theordinary Dreadnoughts sail twenty-one knots. The "Emden" and the"Karlsruhe, " the German Corsairs, sailed twenty-six knots, but the"Princess Royal" can reel off thirty-four knots. Our ship was at thehead of our column and she swung past our bow to again take her stationas if we were standing still, so quickly and easily did she answer herhelm. Her decks were cleared for action, her 13-½" guns run out. Allher metal work in the setting sun shone like gold. She looked like agreat grey yacht. This convoy had been wonderfully cared for. It seemedthat all the time we were being convoyed by four great battleships andfive light cruisers. The battleships were always below the horizon tillwe saw the "Glory" on the right. That was off Cape Breton. Truly theBritish Navy is wonderful, and ever up to its traditions. We weresailing up the Channel and going to land at Plymouth, the port fromwhich sailed the great Admirals who gave Great Britain command of thesea. The day was lovely, the autumn sun shining brightly, and theshores of England shimmered a ruddy bronze brown. The trees were infull foliage, but the color scheme as seen from the sea was a much morevivid green than the Canadian landscape. In the early part of the daywe could see a wireless tower and life saving stations at the Lizard. The shore was steep, a huge line of chalk cliffs. 

Fourteen miles from Plymouth we passed Eddystone Lighthouse. This isone of the most noted lighthouses in the world. The first light waserected here on a submerged reef in 1697. Six years after it waswashed away during a great storm. It was rebuilt in wood and thestructure stood the buffeting of the Atlantic until it was burned downin 1755. The third, or as it was called the Smeaton Tower, was erectedin 1757. It was built of masonry and stood until 1882, over a hundredyears. Part of this wonderful old light, I was told by our Captain, isstill in use in Plymouth. The present light is 135 feet high, and wasbuilt by Sir James W. Douglas at a cost of $400, 000. In the summer, excursion steamers run out from Plymouth, but very few of thepassengers land. 

As we gradually drew nearer the harbour we began to meet thesharp-nosed destroyers and torpedo boats that guard the harbour, andas we neared the entrance we were delighted with the view of a vastpark and grounds with a castle peeping out from the trees. This parkis known as Mount Edgecombe, the seat of Earl Edgecombe. The park isone of the most beautiful in England and occupies the whole of oneside of the Sound. Through our glasses we could see beautiful lawns, walks and tropical palm trees growing here in the open air. Soon wecould distinguish the great breakwater that almost closes the entranceto the Sound. On all sides we could see from grimy walls and cavernsthe black gaping mouths of cannon. The shore outlines rose about fivehundred feet on each side and great batteries and the white tents ofsome of Kitchener's army were to be seen almost everywhere. There wascertainly no doubt about England being at war. As we drew near thebreakwater a shoal of paddle wheel tugs rushed out to welcome us withtheir sirens blowing to pilot us safely into the most noted harbour inthe world. From this port sailed such great captains as Drake, Hawkinsand Cooke, who first circumnavigated the globe. From this port emergedWilliam Longsword when he defeated the French when they desired toland an expedition to defeat King John. Here it was where Sir HowardEffingham and Drake lingered on the Hoe, a hill which we could clearlysee, to finish their famous game of bowls (every bowler knows thestory) before emerging to fall upon the Spanish Armada. Here Blake, equally famous, the father and organizer of the British Navy, made hisdepōt, and in the church of St. Andrew's, in the city behind the Hoe, is deposited his stout heart. From this Sound emerged the Mayflower toland the Pilgrim Fathers in America, there to lay the foundations ofyet greater nations, and re-establish that Pax Britannicum for whichwe were here to fight, and which has given a century of peace in thenew world. 

Nearer and near we came, and soon passed the breakwater, guarded by ahuge steel tower girded with long lean gun barrels. The town seemed towake up and the open spaces began to fill with people. The sailors andcadets on Drake Island poured out from the casements like rabbits froma warren. With our glasses we could see the dense crowd on the Hoe, which is now a public park. We could see the colossal statue of SirFrancis Drake towering aloft over the Hoe, speaking trumpet in hand, as if welcoming us, for certainly this was a great Armada that wasentering the Sound, a peaceful Armada, greater than that of KingPhilip; this second Armada composed largely of the second and thirdgenerations of pioneers coming back to give to the Mother Country whatshe had so freely given to the Colonies and the civilized world. Whatwould old Sir Francis have said at this sight if he had lived to-day?Back from Plymouth in a country manor near Tavistock, some descendantguards the ancient drum with which Drake beat his crews to theirquarters. It was said that on his deathbed, when he bequeathed thisdrum, he left directions that it was not to be beaten unless theshores of England were endangered, and if it were beaten, Englandwould produce a great man or something great would occur that wouldmeet the emergency. Twice only had the drum been beaten, andassistance came, first in the persons of the great Admiral Blake andthen Admiral Nelson. Some one must have given it a sly tap to bringthe Canadian contingent. 

Gradually we drew into the inner harbour. The white streaks on theshore and on the warships in the harbour resolved themselves intonaval cadets and "tars" "dressing" ship. We had seen this before onthe decks of the "Princess Royal. " Here were hundreds and thousands ofthem. Certainly England did not show any slackness in the number ofsailors. We could hear the cheering from the shore, and our pipesstruck up "The Cock o' the North. " The men cheered themselves hoarsein reply. Then we could hear the civilians on the shore giving outsomething like a college yell. We listened and it came across "Are wedown-hearted? No. " It never seemed to strike our men that way. We hadnot heard the latest London Music Hall slang borrowed from "Joe"Chamberlain, so our men called back, "Cheer up, the worst is yet tocome" and everybody roared with laughter. Slowly the "Megantic"threaded her way in and out between buoys, through mines loaded withenough dynamite to blow her to smithereens. The inner harbour iscalled the Hamoaze. As we passed Drake Island, we were under the gunsof the citadel which was built in 1670 and is still occupied; wepassed the great naval victualling yard, a large establishment builtin 1835 for victualling the navy. Then we entered that part of theSound known as Devonport, the headquarters of the Royal Navy. Devonport is one of the great naval yards, and there is situated oneof the huge naval shipbuilding plants. Huge steam derricks rear theirarms along the masonry walls of the harbour on the left, and inseveral places the huge ribs of warships in course of erectiondisclose their nakedness. On the wharves could be seen enormous gunslike giant pine logs heaped up ready to be put on board the warshipswhen ready. Several large men-of-war were in the dock, among them onethat had knocked a few plates off its bottom in running over a Germansubmarine in the North Sea. Further and further we went until finallyour cable was tied to a huge buoy and we were at our moorings. Orderswere issued that no one was to go ashore, so I slipped a cable forhome, to the Pilot, also a gold sovereign. He said he had no change, but I told him the change was his. He was the assistant of our bigPilot. He stared for a minute, then he vanished over the rail like ablue streak, down the ladder, over the tender, alongside he hailedanother tender that was passing, and before our cable chain was out Icould see him climbing up the landing stairs and I guess he is runningyet. Gold has its fascination here as elsewhere and spells service. The cable went through all right. 

The appearance of the fleet seemed to stir up everybody and thewharves and quays were thronged all evening. The bugles blow Retreaton a beautiful spring-like evening, and after the "First Post" thepipers discoursed those ancient melodies that sounded years ago amidthe brown heath and shaggy wood, and that are now calling thedescendants of those ancient warriors from farm, city and manypeaceful and cheerful firesides to fight for King and Country liketheir ancestors, and if need be to die that the Empire may live. Themen sang themselves to sleep that night. I could hear their songs longafter "Lights Out" had sounded. 

The voyage was over, and we can thank an All Wise and mercifulProvidence that we had all come safely so far. Never did a CommandingOfficer have a finer lot of men than mine. Never did a CommandingOfficer have less trouble--the conduct of everybody was so good. Wewould land eleven hundred and fifty-seven strong and only one mansick. The rest, thanks to continual physical drill, were in the pinkof condition, ready and fit to go anywhere. I had only one regret andthat was that that some of them might never return. Still, the priceof Empire and power, as Bismarck said, must be paid, not in talk nortreaties, nor promises nor golden tribute, but in "blood and iron. "

CHAPTER VII

SALISBURY AND THE STONES OF STONEHENGE

On Thursday, the 14th of October, orders came to disembark. All theships of the Canadian fleet were there. We learned that we had beensent to Plymouth at the last minute and that train transport had to beprovided for us. All kinds of rumours were afloat; one that we were togo at once to France, disembarking at Rouen, and then by train to thesouth of France; others said that we were to go to Egypt; and manysaid that was all right, if the Turks got into the war. 

I went ashore with Company Sergeant-Major Radcliffe of my regiment, who is a Plymouth man. It was only when I got ashore that I learnedthat his bride-to-be lived in Plymouth. We drove all over the town andpart of the country. This is Devonshire, the country of cider andcream. I tried them both; they are excellent. It felt good to getashore, but the voyage was so pleasant that we were sorry to part withour good ship and our captain. We found that in England the people hadbeen very much depressed by the war, but were recovering theirspirits. The shipyards were busy, but there was hardly a home inPlymouth, Stonehouse or Devonport (three towns in one), but had someone afloat in the navy, keeping convoy, or keeping guard in the NorthSea. I met the Editor of one of the Plymouth papers, a very fine man. From him I learned that the Mayor and Corporation of the town hadarranged a public reception for the Canadians, but that Lord Kitchenerhad vetoed the proposal. He also told me of the loss of some ships onthe East coast, and some German losses at sea, but said the censorwould not permit publication even of our arrival. We were beginning tolearn that there was a big man somewhere about who was doing things, and that his address was not far from the War Office. On the streetswe met hundreds of young men route marching, some of them with arms, some in uniform, the majority without either. They were all singing"Tipperary" with its Celtic croon and minor tones. So far apparently, the war had not produced a great war poet or musician, nothing hadbeen written anything like "Tommy Atkins" or "Soldiers of the Queen. "Surely war songs were not all "Made in Germany. "

Every square, and park and private lawn had its quota of soldiersdrilling, all young men and all in deadly earnest. We learned alsothat the day we arrived some young men from Quebec, speaking French, and a Servian from Winnipeg had strayed ashore, and the announcementwas made in the press that the contingent consisted principally ofFrench Canadians and Servians who were coming to fight for the Allies. After the war is over I suppose someone will be giving the Chinese allthe credit for what the Canadians did. 

So far so good. We remained on board all day. The rivetters on board ahuge Dreadnought, that was being built close by, chalked in hugeletters on the plating a message for us, "Bravo Canadians. " Our men, who were very good with semaphore signals, soon established a wirelessconnection with the shore and a very animated conversation was carriedon between them all day. In the afternoon we presented Captain Jameswith a memento of our voyage, expressing our pleasure in having such agood commander. We bought him the silver when we got ashore. 

The next morning an officer came aboard from the staff, and we learnedfor the first time that General Alderson had been appointed to commandthe Canadian Expeditionary Force. We could see an officer on shorewith a staff cap, who looked very much like General Hughes, but itturned out to be Colonel Davidson of Toronto. About noon our shippulled into the dock, and the gangways were put out, anddisembarkation began. We were ordered to move in two detachments, soI gave the right half battalion to Major Marshall with my blessing, and remained with the left half myself to see that all our stores werelanded safely. We learned a good deal about transporting troops. Onething that should be looked after in future contingents is to see thateach unit has its own waggons, horses and carts on its own ship. Whenwe were embarked at Quebec our horses and waggons were taken away fromus. The horses were put on board one ship, the harness on another, thewaggons on another, the wheels on another, etc. It took weeks to sorteverything out, and all the work done at Valcartier had been wasted. 

Another thing, the men should not be sent abroad without a goodequipment like the Webb. The Oliver equipment was a joke. With ourfacilities for producing good leather, canvas and woollen stuff inCanada there is no reason why we cannot produce an equipment just asgood, if not better, than the Webb. All ammunition is now packed inclips in canvas bandoliers holding fifty rounds, and there is verylittle necessity for the big ammunition pouches with which equipmentswere burdened. An equipment made out of green chrome leather with asfew straps as possible, or out of good stout drab canvas made inCanada and treated with a solution of soap and alum, so as to make itwaterproof, would do just as well as the Webb. Fortunately ourregiment had been given an excellent Webb equipment and it wasexpected the equipment for the rest of the force would be issued inEngland. The Division outside of our Brigade had been busy for severaldays staining their Oliver haversacks and kit bags with tea and makinga very poor job of it. 

The right half battalion shouldered their blankets, kit bags andknapsacks and started off for the station a mile away. Our rifles wereboxed and would follow us. We left later on at six in the evening. Itwas dusk as we marched through Plymouth to the station where we had towait an hour for our train to be made up. Soon quite a crowd gatheredat the station, and everybody wanted to give my men bottles ofwhiskey and gin. I stopped it as well as I could, but a few who hadnot had a drink for two months fell by the wayside, not just then butlater on. We should have tried out our men in Canada, and given them afree hand, so that the drinkers would be weeded out before comingover. 

Our train came in about eight o'clock and we were told our destinationwas Patney Station, and that our camp was near the station. Off westarted and arrived at Patney about one o'clock at night. The menenjoyed the run very much. At every station as we passed the peoplegathered and cheered themselves hoarse till we all thought we werereal heroes. We made only about two stops till we came to Patney, oneat Exeter which is one of the oldest towns in England dating from theRoman occupation. This city was the Iscea of Vaspasian's time. It wasalways a fortified city, previous even to the Romans, and boasts of abeautiful cathedral. 

The other stop we made was at Newton Abbot. Here William of Orange wasfirst proclaimed King of England, if I remember right, on a stone inthe market square. 

At Patney station we found on the station platform Major Marshall andseveral officers, among them Captain McGregor. They informed us thaton the way up a number of the men of "A" Company (Captain McGregor's)had been taken ill, with ptomaine or some other form of poisoning, andwere in a bad way. We suspected at once that some one had handed themsomething. We found thirty-five of them down with colic and verysevere pains. Blankets had been laid in the station for them, and Dr. MacKenzie, our surgeon, did not take long getting busy attending tothem. He informed me that he did not consider any cases serious, although the poor fellows were suffering much pain. We marched theleft half of the battalion over the track on an overhead bridge, andfound our right half waiting for us, and for transport waggons whichwere supposed to be on hand, to take our kit bags and blankets. Thenight was as dark as a wolf's mouth and the dim lights of a fewlanterns showed the men standing in solid lines between the greenwalls of the hedges of an English lane. 

A traction transport arrived and the men began hoisting their kit bagsinto the two large vans that constituted this traction outfit. Severalcounty policemen were on hand to guide us to our camp which we weretold was eleven miles away. That was cheerful. There was no transportfor the kit bags and blankets of my half battalion, so that after awhile Marshall got all his kits aboard and said good-bye and startedoff into blank space with his half battalion less the thirty-five sickleft at the station. The pipes struck up bravely, "We'll take the HighRoad, " the marching-out tune of all Highland Regiments, and soon theblack darkness swallowed up the end of his detachment. 

The prospect of a night march of eleven miles was not very cheerfulfor the rest of us. We stood about on the road waiting for anothertraction engine and waggons to get our kits carried for us. One hourpassed, no transport, two hours, no transport. We heard that ourtransport had gone to Lavington station by mistake, and was on the wayback for us. At a quarter to three the officers and non-commissionedofficers decided that we had better start and get to camp carrying ourown kit bags and blankets. The men said they would rather go than sitaround waiting for morning, so a constable with a lantern and abicycle volunteered to guide us. I gave the command to shoulderkit-bags and blankets and we were off. Each man carried his knapsackand complete equipment, three blankets, a rubber sheet and a kit bag, full of boots, clothing and all like effects. Some of the men werecarrying fully one hundred to one hundred and twenty-five pounds. Sergeant-Major W. Grant slipped up alongside of me at the head of thecolumn, and we marched out into total darkness. At first it was sodark that a person could almost feel it. The road was firm and flintyunder foot, and pretty soon some one started up "The Army of to-day isall Right, " and everybody joined in the chorus. We set a slow pace, stepping short and easy so that the end of the column in charge ofCaptain Warren could keep up. A wonderful man was young Warren, nevertired, always cheerful, always knowing what to do. We were blessedwith two good field officers in Captains Darling and Warren. At theend of fifteen minutes we halted between two hedges and rows of talltrees. The policeman told me the men could sit against the banks ofthe hedges, so that first rest was good. In ten minutes we were offagain. The road seemed to wind in and out in serpentine curves. Theland on either side was taken up with truck and vegetable farming. 

In spite of the darkness it was an ideal night for marching, neithertoo hot nor too cold. The men were standing up to the marching well. After about another quarter of an hour Sergeant Hermitage, my OrderlyRoom Sergeant, ran up from the rear to tell me to halt the column, asa man had slipped into a culvert and was stuck in the mud. In fishinghim out the Sergeant had got stung with nettles. This made him hot. Itdid not mend matters when I suggested that his country was gettingeven with him for wearing kilts. However, we slowed up. This going wassplendid practice as we would no doubt have plenty of night marchingof this kind in Flanders. The men stood up to the march with theirheavy loads splendidly, thanks to the excellent physical training theyhad undergone on board ship. At the first halt a number lit upcigarettes, and as soon as they started a chorus of coughs showedwhere the seductive weed was getting in its deadly work on the lungsand bronchial tubes. The Commanding Officers passed the word along totry and not smoke, and not to use the water bottles, and the men didtheir best for the rest of the march. About an hour before we came toour camp we ran full tilt into a traction train and I commandeered itat once. I turned it around and got the men to load their kit bagsinto the big vans, which they did most cheerfully, as this lightenedtheir loads. When we reached the great Salisbury Plains, after a steepclimb, it was cold and foggy, the kind of weather to take the courageout of a man, about five o'clock in the morning. It was daylight whenwe reached our tents. There was hot tea ready for the men, and it didnot take us very long to roll up in a blanket on the ground and go tosleep. 

I made the eleven miles carrying my great coat, sword and equipment, and how I blessed my boots. Not a chafe nor an ache, they were justsplendid. From three o'clock till seven ten is not bad for elevenmiles on a pitch dark night. We all knew very little of what happenedfor the rest of the day. Captain Donaldson saw that the officers'luggage was sent in, and by the evening we were quite comfortable, andhad a good sleep on Saturday night. 

The first work we did on our arrival at Salisbury Plains was to attendan open air church service on Sunday. All the photographers of theLondon papers were on hand to get snapshots of us. We were warned tobe careful of suspicious characters, and some of the gentlemen withcameras were questioned closely. We at last had leisure to look aboutus. Salisbury Plains, where we had been sent for our training, is inWiltshire and is a chalk plateau, high up in the middle of England. Itis noted for its historical associations and its bad climate. Twogreat trunk line railways run, one on the north, the other to thesouth of these Plains which are fully twenty-five miles from north tosouth and twenty-five miles from east to west. Most of the land istaken over by the Crown for military purposes, but at the cross-roadsthere are still small English villages nestling in the hollows, whilston the Plains themselves the game and shooting privileges still remainin the hands of the Lords of the Manor. 

The country is very much like the foot-hills of the Rockies nearCalgary in appearance. The slopes are generally to the north. We werenot by any means the first armed men to tread the heath here. There isno part of England so rich in legend and history. We could see ruinsand monuments on every side. 

In the middle of the Downs, within plain view of our camp, there arosethe most ancient ruins in the British Isles, and the most interestingprehistoric edifice in the whole of Europe--Stonehenge. To speak ofStonehenge or to try to conjure up its past is to deal with people wholived on these plains and enjoyed their cruder methods of civilizationand religion in a period more remote than that in which the greatPyramids of Egypt were fashioned. Here in a circle, about one hundredfeet in diameter, are reared a series of great pillars of granite, astone which cannot be found within hundreds of miles from the spot, infact the north of France is the nearest. Each slab is about twentyfeet in height and they are fashioned rudely in the form of a temple. It is said that in the design geometrical figures were used, and thatsome sun cult was practised by those who reared them, for the sun'sshadow passes through various points only on Midsummer and on May Day. The Druids are supposed to have used this as the great shrine of theirfaith, and worshippers came from all over Europe every year to takepart in the religious ceremonies. Be that as it may this country musthave been the centre of a very powerful Celtic or British race, forhere and there over the Plains are piled up huge barrows, said to bethe burial places of ancient kings. A barrow or tumulus is aboutfifteen to twenty feet high and seventy to a hundred feet in diameter. A great many tumuluii are dotted here and there over the Plains. Thenext people to these Druidical Celts to occupy these plains wereBritons and the ruins of some of their villages are still to be found. Then came the Romans, and as usual they left their mark. North of thestones of Stonehenge, about a quarter of a mile, is still to be foundthe ruins of a chariot race course recalling scenes from "Ben Hur. "Over one end of the course, oaks, centuries old, have grown. Not faraway, about a mile and half east of Stonehenge, there is the hugeearthwork walls of Vespasians' Camp. From here it is said the GreatRoman General marched to the conquest of Palestine. About four milessouth, crowning a high hill, there are the ruins of Old Sarum, at onetime a Roman City. From the ramparts of Sarum, each of them a day'smarch away, can be seen the ruins of seven great Roman Camps. TheRomans occupied Britain about four hundred years, a period moreremote than if we count from now back beyond the Discovery of America. Everywhere are marks of their civilization, showing that the countryduring their occupation must have been rich and populous. No less thanfour of their generals left these Plains to assume the Imperialpurple. What stirring times those must have been. Past old Sarum woundthe road to Bath where the rich Romans and Britons were carried byslaves on their litters to take the medicinal waters of that ancientwell, now found to contain that marvellous nerve-stimulatingmineral--radium. Every stone, every hill on these Plains could tell awonderful story. 

After the Romans came the Saxons, and good King Alfred was not unknownto these Plains while he was moulding his Kingdom and driving out theDanes. The Norman Conqueror then came and took Sarum as one of hisstrongholds. And it is admirably suited for defence even to-day. Heestablished a See or Bishopric at Sarum which later was removed to theCity of Salisbury. Sarum then declined and ran to seed, and wasgradually abandoned. It registered a last kick, however, when its halfa dozen voters, as it was the most noted of the "Rotten" Boroughs, wonimmortality by sending to Parliament a young Coronet of Horse, Pittthe Elder, afterwards Lord Chatham. It then ceased to be anything buta geographical expression. If you seek the remainder of the history ofthis remarkable spot, look for it in Salisbury Cathedral, one of themost charming specimens of late Gothic architecture to be found in theworld. There you will find the tomb of William Longsword and otherbrave crusaders. You will find that Oliver Goldsmith lived inSalisbury, and there wrote the novel "The Vicar of Wakefield, " andthat Gay wrote the "Beggar's Opera, " at Amesbury, the village thatlies a few miles east of Stonehenge. But of all that we saw that whichimpressed us most were the Roman ruins, recalling the iron disciplineof those unconquerable legionaries, and the great monuments of ourCeltic ancestors, the sublime stones of Stonehenge. 

CHAPTER VIII

UNDER FIELD MARSHAL EARL ROBERTS

We had to settle down for a few days to await our arms and equipment, and in the meantime a meeting of the officers was called by GeneralAlderson, our Divisional Commander. 

The chief topic of discussion was the question of having "wet"canteens in the lines. The result of the meeting was that they wereshortly installed by contractors for the war office, and gave us agreat deal of trouble, and gave a few men who misbehaved themselves achance to get a quick return ticket to Canada. 

In spite of temptation on every side, to the credit of the Canadiansbe it said they behaved themselves exceedingly well. Fully eighty percent. Of them were total abstainers. About ten per cent. , chiefly theolder men, took an occasional drink, and not more than about three percent. Drank to any extent. For these latter, life soon became aburden. 

This good behavior followed the troops to Flanders. Shortly after wecrossed and went into the trenches the French Government prohibitedthe sale of all spirits to soldiers. Any saloon keeper in France whosells hard liquor to a soldier is very severely punished. The onlyliquor they are allowed to sell to the soldiers is a light beer, aboutthree per cent. Alcohol, which is manufactured in small home-madebreweries at every cross-road and is consumed by the Flemish people inlieu of the water, which is very bad in the low country, and only fitfor cooking, also a light native wine with about the strength ofginger-ale, and the taste of vinegar. We found that light beers, winesand fermented liquors are licensed separately in France from spirits. This method has given good satisfaction. Strong liquors or spirits aregiven to the soldiers only on a doctor's order. There is no regularissue of rum, and the stories circulated by Jane Adams, a ChicagoPacifist, and others that the soldiers are filled up with rum and"dope" to keep up their courage, were deliberate lies as far as theBritish, French and Canadian troops are concerned. Strong drink of anykind was treated as a drug, not as a beverage. The beer and wine soldhad about the same alcoholic content as ginger beer or newly-madebakers' bread. The army in Flanders was not producing "drunkenheroes. " Those who cannot cut out liquor are better left at home. Theyare of no value whatever in any war. 

 [Illustration: ABOARD SHIP IN WINTER GARB]

We also learned, at this meeting, with great pleasure that LordRoberts had become the Honorary Commander in Chief of the CanadianArmy, and that in a few days he was coming to review us, as was alsoHis Majesty the King and Lord Kitchener. We worked very hard to getinto shape for these important events. In the meantime the Minister ofMilitia from Canada arrived and visited our camp, also several othereminent men, among them Mr. R. Reid, who represents the Province ofOntario in London. 

Our lay-out for camp was not as fine as at Valcartier. The tents hadbeen pitched during the summer and occupied by successive territorialbattalions, and they were not of the thick water-proof cotton canvasvariety that we had in Canada. They were the linen kind such as weused to have in Canada in the Eighties, and they were so thin youcould count the stars through them, but were all right for summer use. 

We were solemnly cautioned not to make any excavations in the turf, especially ditches around the tents to carry off the rain, or evenholes in the ground in which to build our cooking fires, as the landis hunted over, and any stray holes in the ground might break ahorseman's collar bone or a horse's leg. 

The Division was divided up and put in various camps, about a brigadein each camp, which were a mile or so apart. The First Brigade underGeneral Mercer were at Bustard Camp. The Second under General Currieand the Third under General Turner, V. C. , were at West Down South. Theartillery under Colonel Burstall were with the First Brigade whilstthe Cavalry were at Sling plantation, and Divisional Headquarters atBustard Camp. 

Earl Roberts came out to review us on Saturday, the 27th of October. Ihad not seen the hero of Kandahar since the day he marched past theKing, resplendant in the scarlet and gold of a Field-Marshal on thePlains of Abraham, at Quebec. Since then he had retired from activeduty with the army to devote himself to the cause of National Service. 

The important day arrived and the brigades were drawn up in lines ofbattalions in mass along the brow of a slope south of our camp. Battalion after battalion, battery after battery, squadron aftersquadron for nearly two miles the line stretched. It was a magnificentarray of men that greeted the brave old veteran in the first review ofthe Canadians which proved to be his last command. 

On his arrival he was received with the general salute. He then rodein a big grey car in front of the line, the officers having been allcalled out to the front. As he reached each separate battalion the carstopped, General Hughes introduced the commanding officers, and LordRoberts spoke graciously to them. Some of the officers' horses behavedbadly as the big grey car came up to them and some seats were lostthat day, but my big charger behaved splendidly. She looked into thebig car and wanted to poke her nose into it to see if the driver hadany candy or apples. General Hughes, the Minister of Militia, sat inthe seat beside Earl Roberts. Age had dealt very kindly with theveteran of Kandahar and South Africa. Although a consistent waterdrinker, Lord Roberts had a very florid complexion, which was just asbright and ruddy as that of a subaltern of twenty, despite his extremeage. This kind of complexion makes it difficult for a man to gainadmission to a temperance club in Canada. 

His voice was clear and resonant. "Colonel Currie, " he said, "How manymen of this kind have you with you? They are indeed a splendid lot, and the Empire owes a debt of gratitude to these gallant soldiers forcoming in the hour of need. "

I answered, "Eleven hundred and seventy, Sir. "

"They are a fine lot and when fully trained should give a good accountof themselves, " he said. 

I thanked him, and he was gone. 

It began to drizzle and rain, and as we moved off we had the firsttaste of that disagreeable weather which clung to us until we left thePlains. Many a time afterwards the lines of R. H. Barham, the author of"Ingoldsby Legends, " came to my mind. 

 "Oh Salisbury Plain is bleak and bare, At least so I've heard many people declare, Tho' I must confess that I've never been there. Not a shrub, not a bush nor tree can you see, No hedges, no ditches, no gates, no stiles, Much less a house or a cottage for miles, Its a very bad thing to be caught in the rain, When night's coming on, on Salisbury Plain. "

On Sunday, the 25th, the men of the Division heard a sermon fromBishop Taylor Smith, who visited Salisbury Plain with Dr. McNamara, M. P. 

The London press had been very enthusiastic over the CanadianDivision. The illustrated papers had photographs of the various corpsand officers. Their kindness was very much appreciated. 

Lord Roberts issued an Order of the Day, in which he praised us veryhighly. He said:

"The prompt resolve of Canada to give us such valuable assistance hastouched us deeply. That resolve has been galvanized into action inwhat I consider a marvellously short period of time, under theexcellent organization and driving power of your Minister of Militia, my old friend Major General Hughes. In less than three months fromthe declaration of war I am able to greet this fine body of soldierson English soil. "

Stirring events were happening in Flanders. About this time we learnedwith much regret that Colonel Lowther, who had served on the staff ofHis Royal Highness the Duke of Connaught in Canada, had been badlywounded. Also that Major Rivers-Bulkley of the Scots Guards, who hadalso been on His Royal Highness' staff, had been killed. The latterhad, scarcely a year before, been married to Miss Pelly, one of theLadies-in-Waiting to Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Connaught inOttawa. 

The German invaders on the western front had swept on past Liege. Agreat battle had been fought at Waterloo or Charleroi, another at Monsand at Le Cateau. The French Government had left Paris. The greatestbattle in the history of the world had taken place near Metz. TheCrown Prince's Army had been shattered and General Von Kluck's marchon Paris had been stayed at the Marne. Then the Allies had assumed theoffensive, and driven the Germans back to the Aisne. Ypres, Hazebrouck, Estairs and Armentieres had been retaken on the Westernfrontier of Belgium and France. The huge Austrian siege guns, 42centimetres, had proven too much for the antique concrete of theBelgian and French forts, but the tide of invasion had been stayed. 

A few days later, October 29th, a dinner was given in London by Hon. Lieutenant-Colonel Grant Morden in the Royal Automobile Club in honorof the Minister of Militia, Major-General the Honorable Sam Hughes, and the officers commanding the Canadian contingent. Amongst otherofficers I was invited to be present, and the dinner was one of themost notable I have ever attended. Not so much on account of thenumber of prominent men who attended, but because it was the lastoccasion in which Lord Roberts spoke in public. Among others presentwere Lord Islington, Lord Iverclyde, Sir A. Trevor Dawson, Sir GilbertParker, Sir Joseph Lawrence, Sir George Armstrong, Lord CharlesBeresford, Sir John Curtis, Sir Edward Carson, Rt. Hon. Walter H. Long, Sir Reginald McLeod, Colonel Sir Edward W. Ward, Sir VincentCallard and Monsieur R. Thien de la Chaume of the French Embassy. 

The toast to Canada was proposed by Sir Charles Beresford in a finespeech, in which he referred to the valuable services of the Canadiansin previous wars. The toast was responded to by Sir George Parley, M. P. , acting Canadian High Commissioner. Lord Roberts then proposedthe toast to Major General Hughes. He was very warmly received when herose to propose this toast, and was visibly affected by the splendiddemonstration. He spoke with great earnestness for over half an hour. He first paid a glowing tribute to the Canadian troops that had servedunder him in South Africa. When he took command there the firsttelegram he sent was to Canada. He then referred to the troops he hadreviewed on Salisbury Plains in warmest terms. He had not thought itpossible that such a fine steady body of men could be got together insuch a short time. He commended the Minister of Militia for havingachieved such splendid results so quickly. He praised the deportmentof the troops the day he had reviewed them in the rain. 

He then turned to the subject of the war and reminded his hearers thatthey were fighting an enemy that meant business, and the destructionof the British Empire. He predicted that through their preparednessthey would give us enormous trouble and he warned us that in hisestimation the war would require every man that could be put in thefield. Lord Kitchener had not called for a man too many, and everyeffort should be put forward to enlist and train every available manas soon as possible. 

Referring to his travels throughout the Empire, he said that it seemedto him the people of the Colonies were more appreciative of thegreatness of the struggle and more patriotic than those at home. Heattributed this to education in the schools and regretted thatpatriotism was not taught more in the schools of the Mother land, andthe British Flag flown over the schools as in Canada and the otherColonies. 

The audience listened with rapt attention and punctured his remarksagain and again with applause. 

The Downs were very suitable for drill and work in open order. Theturf was good and firm, and so far there was no mud or sand. We tookup the new drill of 1914. The battalions for drill purposes wereformed into four companies with four platoons per company. 

We had been told that as soon as we settled down His Majesty the Kingand Lord Kitchener were coming out to look us over, so we brisked upas quickly as possible for the big event. We had a rehearsal the daybefore. The troops took their positions along the main roads leadingpast their respective brigade camps. Our Camp, West Down South, contained two infantry brigades, ours, the Highland Brigade and theSecond Brigade. His Majesty, Lord Kitchener, Earl Roberts and staffwere to drive up from Salisbury in motor cars, and we were formed upon the east side of the main road from Salisbury to receive him. Themounted troops were to form up on the west side. We made a brave showbut some of the battalions were not fully equipped as they had not yetreceived their bayonets. The practise was a great success. MajorBeatty, brother of Admiral Beatty, who was officer on GeneralAlderson's staff, took us all in. A general officer from the WarOffice was to have looked us over, but as he did not show up thegenial Major went through the motions, and it was only after each ofthe battalions in succession had received him with the general saluteand presented arms as he walked past in front of us, and we had a lookat his badges, that we realized that we had been fooled. Of course asa Major he was junior to the officers in command of the regiments andnot entitled to the honors, but he took them with a grin and therehearsal passed off well. 

We had King's weather next day when the King came to West Down South. The Royal Party came promptly to the minute. There was His Majesty theKing, Her Majesty the Queen and some Ladies-in-Waiting; LordKitchener, the Secretary of State for War, Earl Roberts, LordStamford, Sir Richard McBride and a number of staff officers. We werelined up and made a splendid showing. The King rode up to the line andbegan the inspection of the artillery and the Divisional Cavalryopposite us. The Royal party was then on foot, and His Majesty greetedeach officer, and then passed through the ranks in and out, speaking aword here and there to the men. After he had gone over the mountedtroops he crossed the road and started down the line of infantry. Thebattalions were in order from right to left. Her Majesty the Queen andher Ladies-in-Waiting with Sir George Perley followed the King andLord Kitchener. In a few minutes they were at the right flank of ourbattalion. I received His Majesty with broadsword at the salute, andwas introduced by General Turner, V. C. He asked me about our tartan, and how many men I had in it. I told him the whole regiment wore thetartan. He was introduced to the officers and then, withSergeant-Major Grant and Lord Kitchener, he started through the ranks. Some one called me back and I was introduced to Her Majesty, who in aplain suit of black with a black hat, as she was in mourning, stoodsmiling to greet me. 

I had not seen Her Majesty since the night of the reception given bythe King and Queen, then the Prince and Princess of Wales, in theParliament Buildings in the City of Toronto in 1902. She had notchanged at all and there is no woman in the world who looks the partof a Queen better than Her Majesty Queen Mary. She looked the frontline of our battalion over carefully. There was not a man there lessthan six feet two inches. Youth and intelligence was written all overthem but they stood as if carved out of stone. 

"What a fine lot of men" was her gracious comment as she passed alongthe line. "And they all look like professional men and students. "

A mention of their patriotism in coming to the war, a prayer that theymight be spared to return safely to Canada, and then with a farewell, and "Good luck to you and your Regiment Colonel, " the Royal Partypassed on down the line to the Canadian Scottish Regiment. Thatconcluded the inspection, and entering the motors they rode off toSling Plantation Camp to review more soldiers. Our Brigade hadadvanced to the side of the road, and as they passed on they receivedcheers that could be heard three miles away. We waited for the returnof the Royal Party and lined both sides of the road and gave morecheers. That was our last look at Lord Roberts. A few days later hewent to France and died very suddenly at St. Omar while he wasvisiting the troops under his old Lieutenant, Sir John French. He diedas he would have wished, within the sound of the guns. Coincident withhis visit there the British had driven the Germans back behind theYperlee Canal, where the first Canadian Division was to win immortalfame. 

Those who heard him speak on National Service and the duty of everyman in connection with the war will never forget his earnestness andfervor. His voice will come ringing down the ages calling men ofBritish birth to their duty like the voice of Demosthenes, the Greekpatriot, whose constant cry was, "Yet O Athenians, yet there is time. And there is one manner in which you can recover your greatness, ordying fall worthy of your Marathon and Salamis. Yet O Athenians youhave it in your power, and the manner of it is this. Cease to hireyour armies. Go, yourselves, every man of you, and stand in the ranks, and either a victory, beyond all victories in its glory, awaits you, or falling you shall fall greatly and worthy of your past. "

A few days later the officers and men of the First Canadian Contingentwere given the status and rank of Imperial troops, that is to sayBritish Regulars. This made all the officers, non-coms. And men seniorto officers and non-coms. Of the same rank in the Canadian militia orthe Home Territorial forces. 

CHAPTER IX

MOULDING AN ARMY

"Escort and Prisoner, Right Turn. Quick March, " rang out the voice ofSergeant-Major Grant at the door of the orderly tent. 

Three men, as in file, came marching through the doorway, and as theyreached the camp table at which I sat, the Sergeant-Major continued, "Halt, Left Turn, Right-Dress. "

The men turned smartly, facing me. In the centre stood bareheaded theprisoner, a young man about twenty-two years of age, on each side ofhim a grim old soldier with a drawn bayonet. 

An "Orderly Room" is the court which the Commanding Officer holds, usually in the morning when men are brought before him, charged withany offences they may have committed, with which the companycommanders cannot deal. 

It is a very solemn affair, and is a parade which all the officers ofthe battalion, especially those who have men charged with offences, are supposed to attend. They stand on either side of the OfficerCommanding at "Attention. " The Adjutant stands rigid on the righthand. The Officer Commanding alone is seated. 

The Sergeant-Major handed the "Crime Sheet, " that is the document inwhich the nature of the crime and the names of the witnesses arestated, to Adjutant Darling, who read:--

"That on December 10th, at 2 p. M. , Private John B---- of the 48thHighlanders was found loitering in the Park at Bournemouth without apass. That he became violently abusive on being taken into custody. Witnesses, Police constables 'J----' and 'D----' of Bournemouth. " Thenfollowed the evidence of the constables taken down in the presence ofan officer at Bournemouth, to the effect "That on Dec. 10th, at 2p. M. , I, Police Constable 'J----, ' together with Constable 'D----, 'was patrolling the Park at Bournemouth when I saw Private B---- of the15th Battalion sitting on a park seat with two young ladies. As wascustomary in such cases I asked him if he had a pass. He produced apass signed by the Commanding Officer of the 15th Battalion, which hadexpired the day before. When we pointed out that Private B---- was'absent without leave, ' he said he expected an extension by wire thatday, from his Commanding Officer. When we told him that it was ourduty to take him into custody, he became very abusive, calling us'Thick-headed John Bulls, ' 'Fat-headed Englishmen, ' 'Mutton heads, ''Blasted Britishers, ' etc. He had also abused the English people invery violent terms. " The constables had taken charge of him and handedhim over to the customary escort sent after him from camp. 

When the Adjutant had finished reading the "crime sheet, " I askedPrivate B---- if he had anything to say, and if the charge was true. 

He had nothing to say. "It is true. "

"How long were you out from England before you joined this Battalion, "I asked. 

"Three years, Sir. "

"Do you think that three years' residence in Canada entitles you toabuse your countrymen, and call them 'fat-headed Englishmen'?" Iasked. 

The humor of the situation seemed to strike him. 

"I don't know, Sir. "

"Well, your pay during your absence will be forfeited by RoyalWarrant, and you are admonished not to use abusive language to yourcountrymen again. "

"Escort and Prisoner, Left Turn, Quick March, Admonished!" roared theSergeant-Major as the prisoner left the room, and the officers allbroke into a hearty laugh. 

Of course the Private's name did not begin with B, but this incidentis an example of the spirit that filled the men of the First CanadianDivision. As soon as a man donned the bronze shoulder badge with"Canada" on it he became a Canadian, and forgot his hyphen. There wasno mention of the British-born, the French-Canadian, or Canadian-born. These great issues had to be left for discussion and settlement tothose who stayed at home. 

As a matter of fact, there was only one pure bred Canadian in the "RedWatch. " He joined as a transport driver at Valcartier. He was afull-blooded Indian and very proud of it. He had left a family and agood farm to go and see some fighting for the King. When he came tosee me, he said he knew our regiment would see some fighting and hewanted to go with us. I asked him if he could handle horses. He saidhe could so I put him into the transport to his great joy. A veryhumorous incident occurred in regard to him, shortly after he hadreached the Salisbury Plains. He had overstayed his leave one night, by a few hours, and was promptly taken in charge by the quarter-guard, who put him in the guard tent. 

There was much dismay in the guard-tent at daybreak when it was foundthat the prisoner had flown. "Breaking out" or "forcing" a guard is aserious offence, so when he was found up in the horse lines a shorttime later and brought before me at the Orderly Room, matters lookedinteresting. His explanation, however, was most ingenious, and givenwith such earnestness that we could not help but accept it. He saidthat when he woke up before daylight he found himself in a strangetent. He knew it was time for him to go and attend to his horses, sohe got out as quietly as possible so as not to disturb his comrades, and had gone about his duties as usual. His story, which was verified, gained him forgiveness. He proved a very good soldier afterwards, andat the Battle of St. Julien, when the transport was shelled out of itsquarters at Ypres, and his horses killed, instead of retiring he tooka rifle and ammunition, and found his way four miles down into thetrenches at the salient, where his comrades were battling with theHuns at close range. He was there wounded, gassed, and taken prisoner. His name was Lickers, and he certainly displayed all the war-likequalities of his race. 

When we left Canada we expected to spend some time in Englandcompleting our training. Everybody thought that we would be handedover to a lot of crack English drill instructors, and would be placedalongside of British regular regiments so as to acquire the properpolish. This would, no doubt, have been very desirable, but when wereached Salisbury Plains we found the British War Office in the throesof evolving what was known as "Kitchener's Army. " The whole countrywas alive with recruiting committees, bands and patrioticorganizations, and in the music halls the songs were all of the"Soldier's Farewell" variety. 

Every soldier that could instruct was utilized. Officers who hadretired and pensioners were recalled and came gladly. Instead ofproviding us with officers to instruct and guide us in our training, we were asked to come to the aid of the New Army, and we gave as manyofficers and instructors as we could spare. Commissions in the newarmy were offered freely to non-commissioned officers of the CanadianArmy, and each battalion gave from ten to twenty of their best. Theseyoung men subsequently acquitted themselves with much credit. One ofmine won his Military Cross at the Dardanelles. 

One of the most difficult things we had to cope with was discipline. At first it was hard for the young Canadian who is brought up in avillage or on a farm to realize that he has to obey the orders of hissuperior officer, if that officer happens to be a comrade who has onlythe day before been given a corporal's stripes. It is doubly difficultif the command is couched in the language of an order. 

On the other hand officers and non-commissioned officers had to betaught that they must not bully or browbeat their subordinates. We didnot take long to acquire the new discipline. Everybody was willing. 

Now that men have to act largely for themselves, the system ofdiscipline in the British army has been changed. The idea now is thatthe men must be taught to obey from a sense of duty, not from fear oftheir superiors. Armies have obeyed their leaders from timeimmemorial, from various motives. The Roman legions obeyed because oftheir regard for their citizenship; the soldiers of Cromwell and theJapanese from religious motives, the Germans from fear of theirsuperior officers, and the British and French armies of to-day frompatriotism and a high sense of duty. When a soldier obeys from a senseof duty he will "carry on" even if his officers are killed ordisabled. His courage is much higher. In previous wars when abattalion was decimated or had lost ten per cent. Of its numbers, itwas not considered a disgrace to retire, but in this war such lossesare not considered. Battalions in the Canadian army have sufferedlosses as high as seventy per cent. , and have still held their groundundaunted, and responded most cheerfully to the orders of theirremaining officers to counter-attack and charge with their bayonets. 

It took some patience to bring about this discipline. It often tookseveral visits to the orderly room to teach a man that it was one ofhis first duties to try and keep his "conduct sheet, "--that is thepage on the regimental records, which tells of his deeds--clear of anyentries for misconduct. 

Another troublesome matter was to teach the men that they could not goaway from camp without "leave" and a "pass, " and that it was wrong tooverstay a "pass. " When a soldier wants to leave camp he has to getpermission from the officer commanding his company. He then gets a"pass" signed by the Officer Commanding the Battalion and armed withthis pass he is at liberty for the period named on the pass. 

The next big event in which we figured, after the King's visit, wasthe Lord Mayor's show. The Canadians were to be represented, and therewas quite a flutter of excitement and much interest as to who shouldgo to represent each battalion. I gave the honor to Lieutenant FrankSmith, who had worked very hard and had shown much ability. 

The Lord Mayor's show is one of the annual events of London, and wewere all anxious to see it. I had the good fortune to be invited bySir Joseph Lawrence to view the procession from a balcony close toTemple Bar. The procession has been described so often that everybodyknows all about it. The Canadians made a very fine showing. They wereunder the command of Colonel Williams. Our Highland detachment, underLieutenant Frank Smith, looked exceedingly smart and got a full pagein a number of the London illustrated dailies next morning. 

One thing that struck me very favorably in the parade was the way inwhich the British regulars covered each other as they marched in foursalong the street. Their rifles formed four ribbons of steel. There wasno straggling. 

The battalion soon settled down to a hard syllabus of training andinstruction, beginning with squad drill. It was drill, drill, drill, all day long, rain or shine, and it was almost always rain. 

We were much struck at first by the fact that in England farmers paidno attention to the rain. They kept on ploughing in rain, that inCanada would have sent the hired man to the shelter of the barn. Aftera while it dawned on us that if they did not plough in the rain theywould not get any ploughing done at all. 

Not only did the battalions give their days to drill but after theygot through their squad drill they took two nights a week in training. All this soon began to get the men in shape. 

On Thursday, November 19th, the 3rd Brigade had a visit from Mr. Rudyard Kipling. I sat at lunch with him and formed a friendship whichI regard very highly. Mr. Kipling is one of the great men of the age, the first Imperialist of the Empire. He said very nice things aboutthe Canadians. 

On the 27th of November the Canadian Division was reviewed by GeneralPitcairn Campbell, Officer Commanding the southern command. TheDivision was drawn up in a long line on the Downs and presented aformidable aspect. It was one of the most inspiring sights I have everseen. There was plenty of room on the plains and after we hadperformed a number of evolutions we were formed in line miles long andmarched some distance, then formed for an attack upon a ridge crownedby a number of tumuli. The earth trembled with the tread of thebattalions and the hoofs of the battery horses. Thirty thousandCanadians in battle array is a sight never to be forgotten. Everythingpassed off well, considering the difficulties with which we had tocontend. General Campbell was accompanied by Mr. Walter Long, M. P. After luncheon he was kind enough to ride over to the 48th andcomplimented us very highly on our excellent appearance. The fieldtraining and hard work was working wonders on the men. Every day theywere becoming better soldiers. It was the same with the otherbattalions. The officers were in earnest and unconsciously they weregiving to the men under their command just what they needed. In theranks there were a number of men born in the British Isles. Most ofthe officers were of Canadian birth, and the British-born soldier getson magnificently with Colonial officers. Mutual respect was graduallybringing about efficiency and discipline of a very high order. 

There was still much discontent because we were not sent abroad. Itwas not as bad with us as with Kitchener's Army. The questioneverybody was asking of the men in khaki was "When are you going tothe Front?" It is wonderful how the sight of a uniform acts on thepeople's mind. They think that just as soon as a man dons a uniform heis ready to go to the Front. This re-acts on the men, and witheveryone asking "When are you going to the Front?" they become almostfrantic with impatience. After a soldier has been drilling a while, however, he realizes there is still something for him to learn. Thenwhen he gets to the Front he discovers that it is not just knowinghis drill that made him a soldier but the experience of obeying ordersand doing the same things over and over again until he forgets drilland does the right thing without even thinking. 

People who ask soldiers when they are going to the "Front" forget thatit is not the men's fault they do not leave for the Front at once. Aman that had lost a leg and whose left arm had been shattered at theelbow was invalided home, and he complained to me that because he wasin uniform everybody kept asking him when he was going to the Front. 

In November we learned that the arch corsair, the "Emden, " had beencaught and put out of business by the Australian cruiser "Sydney, "after a spirited action in which the latter ship upheld the traditionsof the British Navy. We also learned that while in England theCanadians were supposed to take a share in the defense of the Eastcoast in case of a German invasion. On two separate occasions I wascalled at midnight and warned to be ready. 

I forgot to mention that the Royal Flying Corps had a school at LarkHill near Amesbury and that every day the aviators sailed above us. Onseveral places on the Plains monuments have been erected by the FlyingCorps in memory of officers who had given their lives in the interestsof the new science. Some of the Canadians joined this Corps. Lieut. Lawson of the 48th, an engineer of ability and experience, subsequently joined and served in Mesopotamia. One man in ourbattalion wanted to join, but when it was pointed out to him thataccording to the statistics of the war his chances of being killed ina Highland Battalion were much better than in a flying squadron, hedecided to stay with the 48th. 

Towards Christmas we received an invitation to go to Glasgow and playfootball against one of the Glasgow battalions. On Christmas Day anumber of the Canadian oarsmen in the different regiments had a racefor eights in the Thames. We had eight first class men who hadbelonged to Canadian fast crews, namely, Lieutenants Alex. Sinclair, Acland, Bickell, Muir, Taylor, Bath, Wilson and Campbell. The crewswere arranged according to clubs at home. If the crews had been bybattalions I am inclined to think we would have won. 

 [Illustration: OUR PULLMAN COACH]

Our football team went to Glasgow on New Year's Day and played atAnnie's Land. They played a very strong game but were up against newrules that penalized them, so they did not win. 

The people of Glasgow were very kind and appreciative. 

CHAPTER X

HIS MAJESTY THE KING, AND FIELD MARSHAL THE RIGHT HONORABLE VISCOUNTKITCHENER

"Did they bury him standing on his head, or the other way on?"

We, that is to say, Mr. J. R. Robinson, editor of the Toronto Telegram, and I stood in Westminster Abbey at the spot in the hallowed floorwhere "Rare" Ben Jonson had claimed his foot of ground, and we wereplaying "Innocents Abroad" and having some fun with our guide. He toldus that he was a Swiss and that he had shown "Buffalo Bill, " "Sir"Thomas Edison, and other famous Americans about the place. 

"I guess they stood him up on his feet, " answered the guide. 

"Was he the man who wrote the dictionary?"

"I guess that is him, " answered the guide. "I understand he was aliterary man. "

"Who was this chap Goldsmith? Was he the first pawnbroker, or the manwho invented watches?"

"I think he had something to do with the watches, " said our guide, awestricken by our profound knowledge. 

"Who was this Salisbury?" we asked. "He must have been somebodyimportant to have such a fine monument?"

"He was some rich lawyer chap, " was the answer we received. We werecertainly having our money's worth. 

We wandered up and down the aisles; beneath whose flagstones restBritain's honored dead. 

"What strikes me most, " said Robinson, "is not the number of tombs andmonuments to the great, but the numberless monuments to nonentitiesthat by some means have managed to creep into the shadow of greatness, by crowding upon the tombs of the Immortals in this Holy of Holies, the Temple of Fame of the British race. "

After we had grilled our guide to our heart's content, and fed himtill he almost fainted, we went around to have a look at Cromwell'smonument and the spot in the great hall where Charles I. Stood when hereceived his death sentence. Poor Charles, whose pictures look so muchlike his descendant William of Germany, the Kaiser, who has caused somuch trouble for us all. 

Of all the public buildings I have ever seen the great Hall of WilliamRufus at Westminster impressed me most. It is of the Norman order ofarchitecture. The conception and simplicity of the structure ismagnificent. King William announced to the banquetting courtiers, according to tradition, that this majestic structure was intended asan ante-room to the great Parliament Buildings which he intended torear on the banks of the Thames. The person who reads the poetry ofthe stones inwardly curses the careless archer whose arrow cut shortthe career of this truly great king, for this is not the only greatstructure that "William the Red" conceived and commenced during histurbulent reign. 

The three distinctive monuments of London are, this Hall of Williamthe Red, the grim dominating lineaments shown in Cromwell's statue, and the noble well balanced head of the great Clive, the foremost ofEmpire builders. 

"London Bridge is falling Down" is the marching-out tune of the "RedWatch, " and many other Highland Regiments, although in the Celtic thewords of the song say "Well tak' the High Road. " London Bridge had notfallen down in spite of threatened Zeppelin raids, and from it we hada good look at the Thames with the magnificent vista of buildingsalong the embankment. 

The Thames means a great deal to the Imperialist. I have seen theMissouri River where it joins the Mississippi, the two giganticstreams forming a symphony of liquid mud, the Detroit River rushingbetween two busy cities laden with hundreds of ships representingliquid commerce, but the Thames, --the Thames represents liquidhistory. 

There was great joy and rejoicing when we were informed that everybodywas to have a holiday either at Christmas or New Year, and that HisMajesty had decreed that free transportation would be provided forsuch as wished a holiday to visit friends. A free trip to any place inGreat Britain or Ireland meant a great deal to our men. The Governmenthad taken over the British railways on an agreement to pay theproprietors the amount of the earnings in 1913, during the period theroads would be under control. The managers of the railways had beenformed into a Board to run the roads, and the whole thing had provedsuch a great success that the Government was virtually having the workdone for nothing. In the language of the London _Statist_, this was"the best bargain" the British government ever made. 

The curse of railways is competition. Governments can and haveendeavored to adjust rates so as to cheapen the cost of service and atthe same time put a stop to rate cutting, but there is such a thing ascompetition in service or operation which means running too manytrains, where control by the Government ends. 

The whole matter, however, turned out to the advantage of thesoldiers. Those of our men who had friends in England chose Christmasfor their holidays. The Scotchmen selected New Year's, and the Irishchose both and had their way, for what Commanding Officer could deny aman a two weeks' holiday in the Green Isle when the recipient stood agood chance of never seeing the home of his ancestors again?

The pipes of the 48th Highlanders played on New Year's Day in Glasgow, but Scotland was too busy with the war to listen. I spent a few daysin the Hebrides. This is not the place for the description of a tourin the Highlands. There is something about the Highland Hills thatimpresses one very deeply. The peaks are not so majestic as the SawTooth Rockies, the Kicking Horse Range, the Cariboo Mountain, or theRange of the Agawa Valley on the northwest shore of Lake Superiorwhich is the most beautiful spot probably in the whole world, butthere is something of solemn grandeur in the Scottish Hills thatpertains to them alone. They are cathedral-like in their majesty. Nowonder they have produced poets and soldiers. 

But Scotland was busy arming for the war. Every man of military agewas taking to the field. It required no conscription to send the Scotsto the war. Ninety-three per cent. Of the sons of the Scottish Mansehad volunteered and gone, and only the lame, the halt and the blind ofmilitary age remained. If this war continued very long there would beno Scotch left, except what you get in bottles. 

I spent a day in Mull and Iona motoring with a friend who wasenlisting men for the naval service. We stopped at a village on ourreturn, and while he went off to see a young man, I was sitting in theautomobile opposite a small cottage, at the front gate of which stooda tall, handsome young woman, with two tiny children clinging to herskirts. She managed to pluck up courage to speak to me. 

"Perhaps you are from the war, Sir?" she said with a wistful look onher face, and a strong Highland accent. 

"My husband is in one of the Highland Regiments, perhaps you have seenhis battalion, the Argyles?"

I replied in the negative, adding that I belonged to a CanadianHighland Regiment. 

"There are only two young men left in this village who have not goneto the war, " she volunteered. "And they will have to be out of hereto-morrow, or they will hear from the women. "

"You Scotch women are very hard on the men, " I said in a half jokingway; "You are sending them all to the war. There won't be any left. Why did you, with those two little children, let your husband go tothe war?"

This seemed to stagger her for a moment, then she drew herself upscornfully and turning on me, with her eyes fairly blazing, she said:

"I am a Cameron, Sir. I would never have spoken to him again if he hadnot volunteered to go to the war. "

I regretted my remark, and the refrain of the old Jacobite songrecurred to me, "A Cameron never can yield. " This is an example of thespirit of the Highland Scotch people in the Great War. 

It should be considered a duty of every person of Scottish blood tosee Scotland and live in it, if only for a short time, and have theirchildren see "Home. " The people of Scotland cannot understand whyColonials and Americans of Scottish descent to the second and thirdgenerations, especially Canadians, should call Scotland "Home. " Thereason is easily explained. 

In America we are constantly struggling to attain wealth, social orpolitical greatness, or else we are busy all the time fighting toprevent others from achieving success. We were only in Scotland a veryshort time when the kindly spirit and homely friendship of the peoplegive us a new experience. It is like the feeling of good-will thatcentres about one's own fireside. As a country Scotland is "Home. "Everyone there from the humblest fisherman to the highest born in theland is anxious to show you some kindness and make you feel at home. That is why Scotland is the cradle of soldiers, poets, statesmen andheroes. 

As soon as the holiday season was over the Canadians again settleddown to Field Training. Every morning we started off with our waggonsand enough food to do us for the day. We drilled and fought and putinto effect new lessons in tactics. Particular attention was paid tomusketry, such as training the men and the squad leaders to name andrecognize targets, also to judge distances by practical methods. Everyday we were becoming more efficient. 

Before the Christmas holidays I had had the good fortune to be able totake the "Hythe" Course and certificate in musketry and machine guntraining at Hayling Island. I went there a confirmed adherent to theold Bisley style of deliberate shooting. I left a convert to the newBritish system of musketry that turned out the formidable riflemen ofthe First British Army. These soldiers overwhelmed the Germans withthe great rapidity and accuracy of their fire. The Germans wouldhardly believe that the British were not armed with automatic rifles. 

On the way back from Hayling Island I met with an accident whichluckily had no bad results for me. Accompanied by General Turner, V. C. , and Lt. -Colonel Burland, I was being driven in an automobilefrom Salisbury city to Lark's Hill Camp, when the steering gear of theautomobile went wrong and we ran into an embankment, the car turningturtle. I was sitting in the front seat with the driver, and themachine, going at the rate of thirty miles an hour, crashed into thebank. I braced myself, seeing visions ahead of a broken neck and asudden inglorious end to my campaigning. But Providence saved me fromeven a scratch, although I was projected with such force against theglass windshield as to smash it to atoms. As the car went over, I hadpresence of mind enough to grasp the stancheons of the top, and thussaved myself from being thrown out over the front of the car. GeneralTurner, V. C. , who was in the rear seat with Colonel Burland, wasburied under the machine, and as I cleared myself from the brokenglass and debris I hear him groan, whilst the automobile hind wheelscontinued to revolve as long as any gasoline was left in thecarburettor to feed the engine. We managed to get him out of the wreckand commandeered another automobile to take him back to Salisbury, where it was found that his collar bone and several ribs were broken. He was very cheerful and his only anxiety was lest his injuries mightprevent him from going to the Front. As this book was published whileI was still "soldiering" my lips were sealed as far as saying anythingabout my superior officers was concerned. All I dare say is that nobraver, better, truer man than General Turner, V. C. , ever lived. 

Our field training brought our men along very quickly. They weregradually becoming seasoned. They had gone into huts at Lark Hillwhich they had built themselves, and as these huts were warm andcomfortable life began to be a real pleasure. 

About the last week in January Hon. Sir George H. Perley and LordIslington paid us a visit at Lark Hill, and we had the pleasure oftheir company at an informal luncheon. 

Thursday, February 4th, 1915, was one of the greatest days in thehistory of the regiment. The previous week, when Sir George Perley andLord Islington visited us in our huts and messed with us on soldiers'fare, the Acting High Commissioner told me that it was probable thatHis Majesty the King and Lord Kitchener would be down the followingweek to review the Canadian Division and say good-bye. This puteverybody in tune, even the lads who had to stay in England with thesurplus officers. On Wednesday afternoon the field officers spent sometime in going over the review ground, pegging it out, so it will notbe out of place to say a word about the grounds. Lark Hill Camp lieson a gentle slope facing west, and from the door of my hut I could seeStonehenge, that mighty monument to the great race that at one timelived on these plains and raised the enormous tumuli monuments to theheroes of their day. 

The reviewing ground was selected about a mile and a half west of thecamp on the new line of railway which had been built largely by theCanadians. The stand was placed to face north and the long lines, twoof them stretched away east and west. About a mile south Stonehenge isvisible, and from Signal Mound in the rear of the reviewing groundsthe river and Old Sarum can be seen in the distance. All about theplains huge mounds raised by the Druidical Celts rear themselves, ofvarying sizes, some twenty feet high, others smaller. This must in allages have been a great military centre. We are not the first comers byany means, and this is truly historic ground that has resounded to thetread of the warrior for thirty centuries. It was fitting that itshould be ground chosen by the King on which to review his Canadiantroops. 

The morning looked very uninviting. It threatened rain, sleet andsnow. For a moment it brightened up and then we were ordered to paradewith overcoats in packs, but by the time the troops got to the groundit was raining heavily and we were reviewed in overcoats after all. 

The troops were placed in two lines, at about two hundred pacesdistance, the cavalry on the right, then the artillery and theauxiliaries, then the infantry, three brigades of them, the pick ofthe contingent. They certainly looked well as they marched across theDowns to their appointed stations. The training had had its effect. They looked much better than at the first review, many of them on thatoccasion being without parts of their uniform, and the drill wasrather loose and frayed at the ends. 

However, that was an historic occasion for we had Her Gracious Majestywith us then, as well as the King, and Lord Roberts, whose smile wasso refulgent it was worth the whole voyage to see it. 

The King was to arrive at eleven o'clock, and a few minutes beforethat hour the whistling of a locomotive was heard as the train woundits way up and down over the hills of Amesbury. The road was builtalong the sides of the hills without any pretence of grading to alevel. It was built by the sturdy Canadians who will leave thatmonument behind them on Salisbury Plains, more useful if not moreornamental or enduring than Stonehenge, the tumuli, or the fallenramparts and ditches of Celts, Saxons, Normans or Romans. 

The train consisted of two locomotives and two coaches. After a fewmoments it stopped and His Majesty and his Staff stepped out andadvanced along a board walk to the platform which had been erected forhim to stand on, and over which the Royal Standard was then floating. As he took his place on the stand, a trumpet sounded and as one manthe troops came to the salute. Each double line was over a mile inlength. His Majesty and Staff, accompanied by General Alderson andColonel Seely, M. P. , now the new Cavalry Commander, started down thefirst line to the left, then back up the front of the second line toits right. The officers commanding units dismounted as His Majestyleft the stand. 

My regiment was the second from the left in the second line. HisMajesty walked between the line of officers and the front line of men. The most prominent figure on the Staff was Lord Kitchener, who, wonderof wonders, wore a smile like a summer morning. As His Majestyapproached the left of the regiment, I met him, saluting. He shookhands with me, and I took my place on his left hand. He asked me verykindly about the health of the men and expressed great pleasure toknow that we had almost recovered from the terrible epidemic ofinfluenza and of la grippe that had affected the troops. I assured himthat the men did not grumble, they considered it part of their workand were quite content to "do their bit" for His Majesty and theEmpire. He repeated that it was altogether too bad that the Canadianshad had to put up with disagreeable conditions, but they were goingabroad in a few days, and he felt sure they would distinguishthemselves. He then shook hands with me, bade me good-bye and wishedmyself and the regiment "good-luck. " Lord Kitchener then shook hands, and with a "Good-luck to you and your fine regiment, Colonel, " theypassed along to the next battalion. Several of the other officers onthe Staff shook hands and chatted for a moment. 

His Majesty looked greatly improved in health, and seemed in betterspirits than the first time we saw him at West Down South. On thatoccasion he was showing the effects of the hard work he had beengiving to the Army--here to-day, miles away to-morrow. But those firststrenuous days were over. The war was well in hand. The measure of theGermans had been taken, at sea as well as on land. 

When the war broke out the one thing the people dreaded was lack ofefficient leadership. No one imagined the King would be the strongestand best King the Empire had ever seen. To him alone is to be ascribedthe wonderful political solidarity of the British people. The massesalways had a latent feeling that King George would make a great King. 

His Majesty returned to the stand, and we marched past in doublelines, the cavalry eight deep in fours, the artillery two gunsabreast, the infantry in double lines of fours, eight men abreast. Then they defiled along the railway four deep to cheer His Majesty ashis train passed. The bonnets were placed on the muzzles of the riflesand the men cheered like mad. His Majesty stood at the window of theRoyal Coach and waved farewells, and the second review by the King wasover. I heard the men say how much they regretted that Her Majesty hadnot been there, for we enjoyed her first visit very much, and theinterest she took in the soldiers. 

The frills are now all over and it is get ready to entrain and crossover to France. 

It was a great pleasure to learn from time to time that the officersthat went to Valcartier supernumerary to our establishment and weretransferred to other corps were getting along well. Lieutenants Smithand Ian Sinclair had gone to the Royal Highlanders of Canada, Lieutenant Bell to the 17th Battalion. They all subsequentlydistinguished themselves in France. 

At Salisbury Plains Captain J. W. Moffatt was transferred to ourBattalion as Chaplain. He immediately joined the officers' trainingclass and qualified as a combatant officer so that if need be he couldtransfer to the effectives in Flanders. He was a great favorite withus all. 

CHAPTER XI

OFF FOR FRANCE. 

"Sir! There is a cup of coffee ready for you, and your horse will beat the door in fifteen minutes. "

I had thrown myself at ten o'clock on my cot, fully equipped for thefirst march on the way to France, and had slept soundly till roused attwelve forty-five by a knock on my door, followed by the voice of theorderly room sergeant. 

I went to the door of my hut and looked out. The night was dark as awolf's mouth. The stars in this northern latitude sparkled withunusual brilliancy. 

On the evening of the 9th, I had been asked to go to the Headquartersof the Third Brigade, where General Turner, V. C. , had informed me thatmy regiment would march out for France on the 11th. 

There was great glee when this became known. The tents hummed withbustle and activity. Everybody got busy polishing and packing up. Thespare kits and kit bags were to be left at Salisbury. Many of themwould never be claimed. 

It seemed almost impossible for us to get ready in time. We had notyet learned to march on an hour's notice, but we were told to cut downour baggage to the regular allowance. 

We were not sorry to leave England for we had spent many disagreeablehours on Salisbury Plains with rain a dozen times a day, mud varyingfrom ankle to knee depth, wet clothing and poor tents. 

A few undesirables had crept into our Force at Valcartier where theyhad not been confronted with the wet canteen evil. When these chapsgot to England they broke loose and had to be sent back to Canada. They should have been put through the wet canteen test before theysailed. It would have saved Canada a great deal of money. These mencaused a lot of talk about the Canadians in London. 

London was the Headquarters of a German lie factory and all kinds ofyarns were circulated there about us. For instance, it was told aboutthe Princess Pats that when they went to Flanders they failed to holdtheir trenches and had to be brought back to London and hidden away"somewhere" to cool their nerves. This was a shameless lie about oneof the grandest corps ever raised for the British army, a corps thatin holding the "warm corners" in the British line in six months hadcasualties of over 2, 700 men, or about three times its effectivestrength. The deeds of this gallant corps at Ypres and St. Eloi willlive forever in song and story, and the names of Lt. Colonel Farquharand other gallant leaders will not be forgotten in the future annalsof the British Army. 

The people of Salisbury were sorry to see us leave for we had spentmuch money in the town. 

The day before we marched out I had visited the city to pay up ourbills, see about the storage of baggage and kits, and pay a visitbefore leaving to the ruins of old Sarum. 

Contemplation of these stupendous ruins of a great people recall thefact that it was the Huns that destroyed the civilization of Greeceand Rome. Always when the Hun absorbs sufficient civilization from hisneighbor to make him efficient in the art of war he becomes seizedwith a military mania, the madness of Thor, and he seeks to destroythe civilized efforts of ages. Replacing nothing he thus plunges theworld into darkness and barbarism. He destroyed the Graeco-Romancivilization and the world reverted to utter darkness for fourcenturies. Then Charlemagne came and there was a renaissance ofcivilization and law, and literature. Education and the arts againflourished, but after him came again the conquering Hun and thenfollowed another long era of darkness and barbarism. 

I rode out in front of the battalion and could just distinguish thedark outlines of two companies. The other two were getting ready andwould march two hours later with Major Marshall in command. 

With me was the Quartermaster, Captain Duguid, the Adjutant, CaptainDarling, the Transport Officer, Captain Jago, and most of the train. We had a little difficulty in getting the men moving. I asked thetransport officer the number of vehicles and animals and he told me hehad eleven waggons. I rode to the cross roads, halted the regiment andordered the transport to lead, counting them. 

When I ordered the regiment to march, Captain McGregor's hoarsecommand "Form fours! right! left wheel! Quick March!" from thedarkness, set the column in motion. 

I took a final look at Lark Hill Camp and Salisbury Plains. The lightshere and there on the Downs showed a glimmer of life. We had spentsome happy days in the Lark Hill huts, the happiest we had spent inEngland. 

I carried an electric torch in my hand and led the way. There was aslight frost that made the muddy road better for marching. Theadjutant rode ahead to look after the transport, and Sergeant-MajorGrant strode at my saddle bow. My horse kept dancing all the way onhis hind legs, as if he too was glad to leave and anxious to be overin France. Soon in the distance ahead gleamed the lights of Amesbury, and after a while tall firs closed on either side of the road as wepassed the gates of the Manor House of Amesbury. 

These gates were built over a hundred years ago and were designed by acelebrated architect Inigo Jones. 

In an hour we were at the station. As we approached I rode ahead intothe station yard and found that our train had not yet arrived. Theregiment marched on the entraining platform, and on looking over thetransport I found that my spare riding horse, which was lame andcarried my saddle bags, had been left behind on the roadside. I sentPrivate Gold, one of my orderlies, back to look them up, withinstructions to bring them along with the second half of theregiment. 

Our train was half an hour late, but when it backed in it did not takeus long to load. The English open cars are coupled up close, and theopen waggons that take our transport are all loaded from the end ofthe train the way circus waggons are loaded in America. We entrainedhorses and waggons in forty minutes. We startled the train people sothat they all came to see me when we had finished to tell me how fastwe had loaded. The railway transport officer came to my compartmentand told me that he had been loading troops for four years there andhe had never seen such a fast clean piece of work. 

We had to sit for fifteen or twenty minutes before the train moved, aswe were ahead of time. Our destination had not been given us. It wasvery cold in the compartment as there was no steam available, but thetrain rushed along, and soon we were in Salisbury. On we went west. Fortunately a long course of travel in Canada had given me the habitof sleeping sitting in my seat, and I took advantage of it. At dawn Iwoke up and found we were nearing Bristol of which Avonmouth is theseaport. 

We arrived at our port of embarkation about seven in the morning. Thegreen fields glistened with hoar frost and the distant hills seenthrough the haze were covered with snow. Through the gaps of the hillshere and there could be seen the mounting flames of great blastfurnaces. This is the region of coal and iron. 

When we reached the station we could see the harbor filled withtransports waiting to carry our Division to France. 

I disembarked and asked for the R. T. O. Who is the official in chargeof the handling of the troops. I found that he was uptown having hisbreakfast. We had to wait about fifteen minutes till he arrived. Thenhe was apologetic and said he did not expect we would be on time. Hethen got busy calling for a fatigue party to unload the transport, butafter he had blown off a little steam I pointed out to him that thefatigue party was waiting at the head of the column, and had beenwaiting for him for a quarter of an hour, and that they wanted to beshown to the unloading platform. Then he took a tumble that we "knewour job, " and from that time on sugar could not have been sweeter. Hetold us that our transport was the _Mount Temple_, and showed me theship, and in a very few minutes we had the men on board. They soon gotbusy and had the waggons slung into the hold. We found that on theevening before the five-inch gun battery and one unit of an ammunitioncolumn under Major McGee had gone on board. They had stowed the bigguns in the lower hold, and they had enough lyddite stowed forward toinsure a perfectly good explosion provided a submarine plugged us witha torpedo. Our adjutant and the steward soon had us in our cabins. 

A couple of hours after we embarked Major Marshall came along with theleft half battalion and reported a very successful entraining. Therailway company, however, had provided a train with one coach too few, and four horses and eight mules had to be left behind to be brought bythe next train. They were in charge of Sergeant Fisher, my transportsergeant, who was a very good man, one of my best non-commissionedofficers. Sergeant Gratton, who had been my transport sergeant, tookill before we left Lark Hill. He had to be left behind eating hisheart out like a lot of other good officers; non-commissionedofficers, and men that I would have liked to have had with me, viz. , Lieutenant Davidson, who had bronchial trouble and a bad knee, Lieutenant Lawson had bronchial trouble and a bad throat. CaptainMarshall had pneumonia, Lieutenants Campbell, Kay and Wilson each hada touch of pneumonia. Lieutenant Art. Muir was recovering frombronchial pneumonia. Capt. Musgrave and Lieut. Malone, good steadyofficers, had to remain with the base company. Lieutenants Acland andLivingston had been sent several weeks before to help drill "Details"and reinforcements for the British troops in France, and they wereboth at Falmouth working hard putting some polish on the EnglishTommies. I wrote General Alderson before I left, asking him to let mehave Lieutenants Acland and Livingston back, but got "no" for ananswer. They were sent to Falmouth while I was in Glasgow at NewYear's. If I had been in Camp I would not have parted with them. 

 [Illustration: 48TH HIGHLANDERS AT CHURCH SERVICE UNDER FIRE NEAR MESSINES, REV. F. G. SCOTT OFFICIATING]

We got through loading early in the afternoon and later on the mulesarrived in charge of Sergeant Fisher and were safely tucked on board. I had a little trouble keeping people off the dock who were intent onhanding liquor to my men. 

We were pretty well crowded up and I was informed that this ship hadbeen wrecked once, but the good old C. P. R. Flag was floating at themast head and we took that for an omen of good luck, and it was. During the afternoon I told the men off to the life-boat stations andreceived the cheerful information that the ship was short a few lifebelts. I intended to have carried an inner motor cycle tube for mypersonal use, but forgot to take it along, so would have had to takemy chances on a hen coop or a hatch if anything had gone wrong. 

The men were in great good humor. They were singing like larks. Someof them had left newly married wives at home in England. One at least, one of my best men, was too much married as he had left two wivesbehind. He had joined the regiment in Toronto and had given hisseparation allowance to a wife in Paisley. When we got to Salisburyanother woman wrote from Glasgow saying she was his wife and claimingthe allowance. In an unfortunate moment he had taken a trip to Paisleyand wife No. 1 had pounced on him while he was visiting wife No. 2 andthere was a scene. She wrote to me threatening to have him arrestedfor bigamy. I saw this would not do as there were three interestsdemanding satisfaction. First, there was his duty to the King. It hadcost a lot of money to train him and bring him so far. He would be nouse to the King in gaol for bigamy and would be only a further expenseto the country and a good soldier would be lost to the service. So Isuggested to Wife No. 1 that she leave him alone till after the war ifhe gave her an assignment of his pay of twenty dollars a month. Like asensible Scotch woman she saw the wisdom of Solomon in my suggestionand accepted it. Wife No. 2 received the separation allowance and theKing got the services of a first class soldier and all three interestswere satisfied. 

We embarked for France with not a dozen men in the regiment withentries on their conduct sheets. A better behaved lot of men it wouldbe hard to find. We had succeeded in instilling in them the irondiscipline of duty which was to prove better than the discipline offear. It was Napoleon who said, "Show me the regiment that has themost punishments and I will show you the regiment that has the worstdiscipline. " He was right. 

We sailed during the early hours of the morning. I got up early andafter some breakfast went on deck. Colonel Burchall Wood of theDivisional Staff had joined us on the previous afternoon, and as hewas my senior officer I reported to him, but he said he preferred tobe my guest and for me to take command. The Captain who was a Welshmannamed Griffith told me he wanted a guard of fifty men fore and aftwith loaded rifles to look out for submarines. We also mounted twomachine guns on the bridge so we pitied the submarine that would comealong. The _Mount Temple_ could make ten knots in calm weather and theCaptain told me that he intended, if a "sub. " showed up, to go for itfull tilt and run it down. 

By ten o'clock we were well out in the British channel. The WelshHills were covered with snow and it was a delightful day, hardly aripple on the surface. Two destroyers, Numbers "1" and "2, " kept doing"stunts" back and forward ahead of us all day. 

Before dealing with France or anything further, I desire to say thatthe Canadian Ordnance Officers were very hard worked and had to make"bricks without straw. " The death of Colonel Strange made a vacancywhich should have gone to Captain Donaldson, a Canadian, myQuartermaster, and no better or more experienced officer ever servedthe King. 

A British officer, however, was called in to do the work. Thedifference between a British officer of the old school and theCanadian is that when the former is confronted with some work he says, "I'll call my man, " that is a non-commissioned officer with a "redtape" training, to do the job. The Canadian takes the responsibilityhimself and sees that the matter is attended to. 

The first evening was bright and clear and I tried my field glasses onthe stars. The Captain told me the barometer was falling and that wewere likely to have a change of weather. 

The thirteenth is generally a tough day with everybody and this was noexception. I was aroused shortly after daylight by a loud noise, thebanging of furniture and the sound of dishes rattling. Sure enough wewere having a storm. The first officer was in the hall. His room wasopposite to mine and he was trying to get in, but the drawers andchairs in his room had piled up against the door. I asked him what waswrong and he said he wanted a surgeon as he had hurt his leg. One ofthe boats had got loose and while fastening it he had his leg jammed. The boat had been carried away. The ship was going like a pendulum, swinging nearly forty-five degrees every jump. One minute I lookeddown on Major Marshall who was in the top bunk over on the oppositeside of our cabin, the next minute the curtains on his bunk hungstraight over my head. Then the ship would take a turn and stand onher head, and the roar of the screw told us there was still plenty ofsteam in the boilers. Then the screws would submerge and the shockwould send a shiver all over the ship. We were in the "chops" of thechannel all right. It looked as if the storm would get us if thesubmarines did not. I told the first officer that the doctor was in aroom in the sick bay, and he was helped away limping along the deck. Captain Frank Perry came along as cheerful as a morning in June. Hewas Officer of the Day and a first class sailor. He came to my room toreport that there was a big gale outside, that the men were all right, very few sick, that an artillery horse had broken out of his stall andthat he was down and likely dead; also that the waggons were loose inthe hold forward with one or two waltzing around. While he was tellingthis he had to sit on the floor of the cabin. He had split his oilcloth coat up the back, and a stray door speeding the parting guesthad slammed on a very tender part of his body, making it difficult forhim even to sit down. I laughed till my sides ached. 

The admiralty stevedores had stowed the waggons in the hold and a messthey had made of it. I asked him if the big guns were lashed down, fearing that if one got loose in the lower hold it would go throughthe side of the ship like paper. He assured me that the big gunlashings held, and I ordered him to get a fatigue party and get baledhay and dump it among the waggons to stop the riot, then to lash thewaggons. He departed on his errand. 

The steward brought me in some Bovril and biscuits, and MajorMarshall, who also kept to his bunk on my advice, began feeding uponhard tack to get into trench practice. Bye-and-bye Perry came back andreported that Sergeant McMaster had fallen and broken his arm. Capt. MacLaren was up and he was a good surgeon and hastily set the injuredlimb. The sergeant had fallen and struck his elbow on the iron deck. The men were all wearing their English boots with heavy iron nails inthe soles and they did not hold well on a steel deck. I took a fewlooks out at the sea and it was a daisy. I saw the Captain who came inand reported very bad weather, but he hoped to clear Cape Ushant. Captain Perry reported that the ship was making about half a knot anhour sometimes, sometimes not making anything, wouldn't steer, andhalf the time in the trough of the sea, if there was any trough to befound, for a cross gale had turned the sea into pyramids. He alsoinformed me that everything had been made fast, that the men werecheerful and that there were no German submarines in sight, and thestorm continued with terrible violence all day. The destroyers hadsped as soon as we had left the British Coast. Several times duringthe day the ship took to her beam ends and the crew thought she wouldnot come back, but she did. I took a bite in bed and stayed there allday. Perry looked after the rations and feeding of the men. 

I woke up about seven the next morning and still the ship wasswinging. Captain Perry came in to say that they had made a goodnight, another boat had gone by the board and also a bit of the rail. The horse belonging to the artillery was dead. About nine o'clock Igot up, and at ten went the rounds of the ship and saw the Captain whotold me we were bound for St. Nazaire in Western France. This placehad been used as a British base before the retreat of the Germans fromthe Marne. 

The weather moderated during the day, and on going the rounds I foundthe men cheerful and that most of the horses had been moved into thecentre of the ship which was some improvement. My horses were all wellexcept the big mare whose leg still gave her trouble. In the afternoonthe sun came out and it got so warm that we could go about withoutovercoats. We were 300 miles south of Salisbury Plains. No wonder theswallows follow the summer. We were not as low yet as the latitude ofSault Ste. Marie. What would it be when we got to the latitude ofToronto?

During the day several ships passed us going in the oppositedirection. They were all tramp or troop ships. I forgot to say thatthe first day out near the Irish Coast we saw a great three-mastedfull-rigged ship in the distance. She was a magnificent sight with allsails set. What a great sight a fleet of these sailing vessels musthave presented in the days of Nelson. Now ships only showed low blackplatforms and smoke stacks. No novelty nor romance about them. 

In the evening the Captain said we would soon see the light houses onthe French Coast. As soon as it became dark we could see in the skythe double flashes of a great light at Belle Ile forty miles away. This is one of the most wonderful lights in the world. The sea wasstill high, but we were making good time. The Captain told me we wouldnot make the harbour till the following afternoon at four o'clock whenthe tide was up. We came into the estuary of the Loire and halted, waiting for a pilot. Then the ship began to roll in earnest. I was upon the bridge with the signalmen, and one minute we were up in the airand the next the black sea yawned beneath us. I had my sea legs bythis time. There were two or three lights bobbing about and a verypowerful lighthouse light cast a baleful gleam every five seconds. Theofficer of the deck said we were about twenty miles from ourdestination and that we would hardly get in until after four in themorning when there was high tide, and if not then, not until theafternoon. Bye-and-bye we saw a light bobbing up and down in the swelland he said that was the pilot. He missed the ship the first round butcame about to lee, and in the dim light we saw a cockle shell of aboat with two men in it. In a few minutes a line was thrown to them, the ladder was let down over the rail, the pilot grasped the rungs andbegan his perilous climb. He was a French sea dog and hung on likegrim death and managed to get on deck safely. He went into the wheelhouse and I went to bed. 

I got up early the next morning to see what was doing. I learned thatthey were going to move the ship to the docks before noon and that wewould start disembarking right away. The river Loire was in flood andno tide was necessary to give a sufficient depth of water. 

It was a glorious morning and pretty soon we were on the quay. It wasa typical French sea port, not very prepossessing, but a busy place. French soldiers of all kinds were about, some on duty, some with theirarms done up in slings, some of them apparently loafing. About noontwo puffing tugs got us through the lock and tied up to a wharf. ACanadian transport officer and admiralty man came on board. We weretold as soon as we were ready we could start unloading, and as soon asthe "brows" (the sloping platform or gang planks for the horses) werein place we could start taking off the horses. It did not take us longgetting ready. Pickets were put out on the quay and various fatigueparties manned the horses. My big mare was pretty lame but my otherhorse was in good shape. We had escaped the perils of the Bay ofBiscay and were now in Western France. Towards evening I asked thetransport officer what time we would take the train, as we had beentold we were to go up country. He said that as soon as we had unloadedhe would be able to tell me, as he would then order a train from theFrench. I then learned that the French had a wonderful system ofmoving troops. When you want to move troops in France you tell themand they supply you a certain number of box cars, a guard van, anofficer's car and a certain number of cars to handle your men, horsesand waggons. They tell you what time you are to move out, and you haveto be ready to the minute. If you have not finished loading, the trainmoves just the same. There is no fussing among the French, but adeadly efficiency in all things. 

CHAPTER XII

"SOMEWHERE IN FLANDERS"

Bah! Ba! Ba! Ba-a-a! Moo! Mo! Moo! M-o-o-o! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Ba-a-a-a!

I was taking a stroll along the railway platform of a station inNorthern France where the engine stopped to coal and water when thischorus of barnyard calls burst from the men packed in the box cars, reminding me of a cattle train. When they saw me halt and turn inastonishment there was a roar of laughter. 

"I'm very sorry men, that you are so crowded. "

"That's all right, Sir, " came back the cheery answer, "that's what weare here for. "

No wonder they thus amused themselves, for they had been travellingtwo nights and a day on the way to the front, and the accommodation;Well! only those who have been there can tell about or realize it. 

The French do move troops in a wonderful manner. Each train is made upof a certain number of box cars, flat cars and passenger cars. Into apassenger car of the compartment kind the officers and staff arejammed, eight in a compartment. On the flat cars the waggons, guns andvehicles are run and lashed, and into the box cars the men and horsesare crowded. On each box car there is painted the legend "Cheveaux 8, Hommes 40, " which being translated means that the capacity of the caris eight horses or forty men, and we had to put 40 men into each boxcar which crowded them so that only eight men could lie down at a timewhile the rest stood up. It was thus a very trying journey, but themen did not grumble. They had to stand 48 hours of this and did itwithout a murmur. 

They expected greater hardships than this when they got to the front, and as a poor shattered warrior said to me later on when I clasped hishand and regretted his terrible wounds, "Don't you mind, Colonel. That's what we came over here for. "

When we landed we were told to march for the train at seven in theevening, and we were ready to the minute. We marched silently throughthe streets of Nazaire, and in a quarter of an hour we were at thestation. We found the train all ready, but no crew, no conductor, noengine. An official at a water tank told us that the crew andtransport officer were at the cafe dining. They came along presentlyand we started loading. Barnum & Bailey's circus never loaded a trainas fast as we did that one. 

When we were loaded I was handed my train orders and a big yellowticket on which was marked the halts and times to eat. We had at leasta twenty-four hour run ahead of us. I was told that when I got toRouen we would get further orders. We carried three days' rations, soI climbed into my compartment, and was soon asleep. I woke shortlyafter the train started to find we were travelling through a big cityalong the banks of the River Loire. We halted about seven in themorning to feed and water the horses and make tea for the men in theirdixies or oval camp kettles. It is rather a serious business lookingafter a thousand men and over sixty horses and mules, but ourorganization stood the test well. My Quartermaster, Captain Duguid, knew his work. I had Lieutenant Dansereau as our scouting andinterpreting officer. He was a graduate of the R. M. C. And a goodofficer. 

It is a beautiful country but not really to be compared with WesternOntario. Many large chateaus with square doleful looking windows werepassed and hillsides covered with vineyards. We were on red clay, soillike that of Devonshire or Niagara. The landscape is punctuated withwindmills, most of them old and without sails. At noon we came to LeMans, a large railway centre, only about forty miles from Paris. Wethen turned west for Rouen. We stopped at La Hutte for dinner. It wasa small wayside station with several large switches. There was anEnglish officer at the platform. The place was right in the country. He informed me that he enjoyed his stay there very much, but thatrural France was not like Paris. He said a transport officer up theline kept calling for the 48th. A beautiful country girl of abouttwelve years of age came along with a big box of cigarettes which shehanded to the men. This was the first demonstration we had had of anykind since we left England. Evidently the people were accustomed toseeing English officers and paid very little attention to us. We wereonly "Anglaise. " During the afternoon when we stopped at towns thestreets and approaches to the station were crowded with people. Aboutten o'clock at night we came to Rouen. This was as far as my ticketread. An officer, however, came on board and took my ticket, butreturned in a little while with it and another one, sending us onfurther. We were in for another night on the train. We were now in oldBrittany and back in a chalk country. There was not very much toreport the next day. We arrived at Bologne about ten o'clock. TheCanadian base hospital is stationed here and I did not think we weregoing further, but we went on. We also passed through Calais which anoted English Queen said would be found written on her heart. Theywere certainly giving us a trip around the country. At St. Omar wewere told we were to go to Hazebrouck, where we arrived about seven inthe evening, and the R. T. Officer who kept asking for us came aboard. It was Lieut. Russell who had sat with myself and officers at the St. Andrew's dinner given at the Queen's Hotel, Toronto, in 1913. He hadattended Varsity and knew me and most of our officers. We weredelighted to see him again. He told me we had to march out five milesinto the country but, if I preferred it, I could stay all night inbillets in a new hospital that was in course of erection and wasprepared for such use. I chose the hospital, as my men had beenstanding for two days and nights in box cars. We marched a quarter ofa mile through the streets to the hospital, and it did not take uslong to get to bed on some straw trusses. 

In finding our billets here Sergeant Burness and a piper had droppedthrough a hole in the floor. Burness was badly hurt and was unable togo any further. 

This was the evening of the 17th of February and "it is a strangething but this regiment has ended most of its big moves on theseventeenth, " remarked my orderly room sergeant. 

CHAPTER XIII

WITH FIELD MARSHAL SIR JOHN FRENCH

"I am the Commander of the British Army in France, " said a thick-setruddy-faced, grey-haired officer in staff cap and uniform. 

"Yes, Sir John, " I answered, saluting. 

"I have had the pleasure of seeing you and your battalion before inToronto. Have you all the Toronto Highlanders with you?"

"Yes, Sir John, " I replied, "most of them. "

Our Brigade was being reviewed by the Commander-in-Chief in a hop yardnot far from Caestre. 

It was raining as usual. We had not yet been reviewed, from the timewe first went to Valcartier, that it had not rained. 

"Is your establishment complete?"

"Yes, Sir John. In fact we are twenty over strength, and I am afraidyou will 'wig' me for it, but we marched out at night and some of themen in the base company, hearing we were leaving, stole away fromtheir quarters, marched five miles and smuggled themselves into theranks as we marched out into the darkness. "

"You will never be wigged by me for bringing such a battalion as this, a few men over strength. We will need them all. Good luck to you, Colonel. " We shook hands, and he started over to review the 16thBattalion. 

"I am the Officer Commanding the Second Army, " and I was saluting andshaking hands with General Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien. With Sir JohnFrench were the principal officers of the British Expeditionary Force. 

General Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien I had often heard of and he impressedme more than any officer I had hitherto met. Above medium height, broad-shouldered, with head set square on his shoulders, he seemed theliving embodiment of resolution and force. His manner was kind andcourteous. 

He reminded me that our regiment had sent a detachment to England tothe manoeuvres, some years previous, and that he had had the pleasureof meeting some of the officers. 

He complimented me upon the fine appearance of the battalion andpassed on. 

Another officer shook hands. It was Prince Arthur of Connaught. 

"Good luck to you, Colonel, and your fine regiment. "

Then another officer stopped and shook hands. It was Lord Brooke. Hehad commanded the Canadian forces at Petawawa the year before when wewere there. "I expect to get a command in the Canadians shortly, " heinformed me. He did. He got a Brigade in the Second Division. 

In a few minutes the review was over and we marched back to ourbillets in Caestre. 

Two days before the battalion had marched out of Hazebrouck hospital, leaving a picquet behind to clean up and bring along any stragglers. Thank goodness we were not bothered with many of them, and if it hadnot been for the bad weather at Salisbury Plains, which accounted fornearly seventy-five good men in the hospitals, we would have had veryfew weaklings. 

We took the main road which turns north from Hazebrouck to Caestre. Wewere going into billets in the war zone. The place where we were to bebilleted was just back of the centre of the line held by the British. East, slightly north, was the famous town of Ypres, due east twelvemiles was Armentieres, southwest seventeen miles was La Bassee, southwas Bethune, fifteen miles away. East twenty miles, or about as far asPort Credit from Toronto, was the famous fortress of Lille held by theGermans. We were in old French Flanders. 

The farmers were ploughing and working in the fields as we marchedalong the road. The children ran out to look at us. They were allfair and flaxenhaired. It was as peaceful as a Sunday at home, but wewere reminded of the war by the trenches running through the fields. The Germans had been here, but left on the big drive from the Marne. The road was a model, made of large stones set about 8×16 inchessquare and of granite hardness. 

Just before we got to Caestre we ran into the Royal Montreal Regimenthalted on the road, and I saw a horseman riding along a sideroadwaving his hand. He joined us and proved to be Colonel Penhale of theDivisional Ammunition Column, who had been with us on the "Megantic. "

I had sent out a billeting officer, Lieut. Dansereau, ahead of us, andwhen we got within a mile of the town I was joined by GeneralAlderson, who rode Sir Adam Beck's prize winning horse, "Sir James. "We rode along for a while and he told me a little about our futureprogramme, just as much as he dared speak about. I rode into thevillage ahead to find out why we were halted. As I got to theoutskirts of the town three horsemen appeared. They were Englishofficers with lots of ribbons on their jackets. We saluted, and as Iwas going at a good trot, it was only as he passed and smiled andsaluted that I recognized His Royal Highness Prince Arthur ofConnaught. 

When I got into the town I found Captain Pope who had been sent aheadby the Brigadier to divide up the billets among the battalions of theBrigade. My battalion was given the western part of the village. I wasinterested to know how the billeting would work out. I was put up witha brewer. The brewery was in the back yard. I was shown to my roomwhich contained a large bed, plenty of sideboards and a pair ofmagnificent bronze lamps on the mantel which were never used. 

We very soon got settled down, and mounted a guard and an inlyingpicquet. We then adopted the plan of making one of the companiesfurnish the duties every day. One company each day provided all theduty officers, guards, picquets and fatigue parties. This had theadvantage that the men are all the time working under their ownofficers. 

On Friday, February 19th, I was sent for to go to BrigadeHeadquarters. I found Colonel Mitchell of the Toronto artillery there, also the other regimental commanders. Soon a British General droppedin. It was General Campbell of the Ordnance. He was introduced to meand we had quite a chat. He told me that he had belonged to theGordons, and was so glad we were here. He left, and shortly afteranother General came in. He told us he was our corps Commander, General Pultney. He had another General with him who sat down besideme and talked for a moment or two. Presently General Alderson camealong and then we were told about the review next day. 

In the afternoon the Brigadier and I rode out to the field where thereview was to take place. There was a quaint old-fashioned churchyardacross the road and a brewery further up. Behind us was a Flemish hopyard. This country is full of breweries, broken down wind-mills andhop yards. In the graveyard they said a German Prince was buried. Hisgrave is not marked. The British and Germans had a pretty smart actiondown the road several months ago. They tell us that six thousandBritish troops defeated forty thousand Germans and drove them likesheep across the Lye. 

We opened the officers' mess in a school room. I tried to keep theofficers dining together as long as possible as I knew that as soon asour billets were more open we would have to mess by companies. At thistime we were virtually occupying alarm quarters. The men had beenbehaving splendidly. The inhabitants took to them kindly and of courserelieved them of all their spare change. The people of the town aremostly old Flemish. The Flemings have the proverbial long noses, sharpfeatures and have fair complexions. Occasionally a stocky, swarthyindividual shows Wallon extraction. Some of the peasants speak nothingbut Flemish, which is one of the ancient Gallic languages. 

The regiment was up at an early hour next morning and everyone wasshaved and cleaned. We had thus far avoided that terrible but famouspest of the soldier that sheds more blood than bullets. 

The regiment paraded at the alarm post at ten o'clock. At ten-thirtywe marched out and in a few minutes were on the parade ground. We werethe first regiment there and were soon formed up _en masse_ facing thetown. The officers were ordered to be dismounted and I sent my horsesback. Shortly after the Brigade staff turned up and all the Brigadeformed up in two lines, the 14th Montreal Regiment on the right, the13th Royal Highlanders on the left of the first line, our regiment onthe right of the second line and the Canadian Scottish on the left. The inspecting generals arrived and were accorded the customarysalute. The inspection started with the Royal Highlanders, and Inoticed that the General who led was a short chunky man with greyhair. He passed up and down the Montreal Regiment and went back andforwards through it. I expected he would go to the left but he headedstraight for me, and I recognized the Commander-in-Chief, Sir JohnFrench, as already told. 

In the afternoon after the review I met Canon Scott, who had lost (?)his way and had come up to the Front with the troops. I asked him todine with me at a little Flemish restaurant, and we had an excellentFlemish dinner. The proprietress was a very lively creature. Shechattered in French and broken English like a magpie, and flew hereand there as lively as if she were on the stage. The Canon said thewhole affair was like a scene from a French comedy. 

Canon Scott was a well known poet and churchman in Canada. His son wasan officer in one of the Canadian battalions, and was subsequentlywounded. Canon Scott had volunteered as Chaplain with the FirstContingent, giving up a fashionable congregation in Quebec city. Itook him on the strength of our battalion from that night. 

The men all behaved very well indeed. It had been given out inDivisional orders that several men had fallen out of the line of marchfor drunkenness, in other regiments, and been shot. The Canadians wereall too keen to get to the front for anything like that. 

 [Illustration: CHURCH STEEPLE WHERE V. C. WAS WON]

On Sunday, February 21st, I arranged that Canon Scott should preach tothe regiment in the morning. We marched out to a green field about aquarter of a mile from the village and formed up in a hollow square. The day was bright and clear, a typical March day in Canada. Theground was very wet and soggy, but the sun shone out bravely. Thescene was very impressive. There was no wind and to the northeast ofus, about three or four miles away, a terrible battle was going on. The drum fire of the guns shook the earth, and sometimes the goodCanon could hardly be heard. He remarked about this unique experienceof holding his first service in Flanders within sound of cannon. Wesang the hymns quite cheerfully and then he left to attend anotherservice. 

I said a few words of thanks to my men, and then we marched back tobillets. 

CHAPTER XIV

UNDER HIEX SHELLS

"I understand that orders have just arrived at the orderly room thatwe are to march up to the trenches to-morrow. I guess we will have toclose the officers' mess till after the war. "

This is the greeting I received from Surgeon Major "Alick" MacKenziewhen I rode up to the door of my billet on the 22nd. 

I had just been out for a gallop. "Alick, " as our officersaffectionately called our regimental surgeon, had been sitting on thedoorstep surrounded by a group of Flemish children. He was engaged ingiving them a lesson in English as I rode up. Wherever we went, thechildren seemed to recognize a friend in our regimental M. O. 

I told him that I was glad we were going to the trenches at last andthat we would form a staff mess which would consist of Major Marshall, the adjutant, Captain Darling, the signalling officer, LieutenantDansereau, and myself. That evening the officers of the 15th Battaliondined together in the Academy at Caestre, and it proved to be the lasttime we were all to dine together. We were all in good humor, butthere was not much ceremony. 

Our orders were that we were to move up nearer to the trenches andtake up quarters at the City of Armentieres. Armentieres is about tenmiles west of Lille, the famous fortress built by Vauban and besiegedand taken at one time by the famous Duke of Marlborough. Previous tothe war it was a great manufacturing centre. The line of opposingtrenches was about a mile and a half east of Armentieres. We were tomarch as light as possible, our packs being carried on transport motortrucks. We spent all day getting ready for it as it was to be a hardmarch along a stone paved road. 

Our first march to the trenches began on February 23rd, and it tooksome time for us to parade. For the first time my regiment did notmarch on the minute. We were ten minutes late in starting. Then Ihalted five minutes to let the transport catch up. Three hundred pairsof rubber boots had been issued to us the night before and we had topile them on the waggons which caused delay. 

Two miles up the road General Alderson stood waiting for us to gopast. Each platoon was called to attention, and the officers saluted. The General was apparently highly pleased. Near the village of FletreGeneral Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien and his staffs were waiting for us. He marched with us on foot for a while, and complimented me on theappearance of the regiment on the march and wished us good luck. 

At the village of Fletre General Pultney and General Turner, V. C. , with their respective staffs, were waiting. We gave them the customarysalute, and later on in the afternoon General Pultney sent word to methat one of my officers had saluted him with a stick in his hand, andthat two of the men had failed to remove their pipes when called toattention. 

We recognized General Pultney as having what we called "class" and wewere delighted that that was all the criticism we had evoked. 

The march came to an end about half past three. We soon found ourbillets. It was a stone block paved road all the way. The men had onnew English boots with iron nails in the soles and the hard smoothstones made the walking very hard. It was the most trying march theregiment had. Putting the packs and great coats on the waggons hadcaused great confusion. The men on reaching town found their packs andcoats all mixed up and it took several days to straighten them out. The men would never be allowed to part with their great coats andpacks again if I could help it, unless they are going into action. 

On going into billets, with the trenches only a mile and a half away, we learned some new wrinkles and it is a blessing we were now indouble companies. 

Our platoon commanders were ordered to go to the trenches that nightto learn something. It was to be their baptism of fire. They came backto my orderly room at ten o'clock after going the rounds and dodging alot of German bullets. I was to go in on the 26th with ColonelLevison-Gower of the Sherwood Foresters who had called and said hewould take me around and show me what to do when my men were in thetrenches. 

Our orderly room was in a fine house. We had good cooking facilitiesand two women to look after the meals. Our orderlies had only to lookafter the kits. The number of the house was thirteen and we came hereunder gun fire on the 23rd. That meant bad luck to the Germans. 

Armentieres was a factory town. They made linen chiefly and there areseveral large weaving mills. The people were very friendly and cheeredus along the way. We met a lot of English soldiers, the Westminsters, the Yorks, the Durhams and Sherwoods. They had been fighting heresince early in November and were rather "fed up" on the trenches asthey describe it. The Toronto Regiment was up here and were full ofginger, they told us. Outside of being a little too eager to let offtheir ammunition, the Canadians were declared to be first classtroops. We are at the point of a small salient that sweeps east in theGerman line towards Lille. 

That famous city was only about seven thousand yards from ourtrenches, well under our cannon fire. 

The next day I had lunch with Colonel Levison-Gower of the SherwoodForesters. They were quartered in a magnificent chateau owned by aFrench cavalry officer who was married to the heiress of the place. She owned most of the factories. The town was shot full of holes, about one house out of every ten having been peppered with shell fire. The British had some big guns there. One half of my battalion was togo into trenches one night, and the other half went the next night. Iwarned the officers against any foolishness or bravado. I could hearthe rattle of rifle and machine-gun fire and I tried to sleep. Thebillets we occupied were the finest we had lived in so far. I had agood coal fire in my room. Some devilish battery commander keptpounding away all night. Every ten seconds his blighting guns would gooff and rattle the windows. Major "Billy" Marshall slept in the nextroom, and his snore told me he was dreaming of Paardeburg, PoplarPlains and battles of South Africa. A few days before we left Englandhis horse had slipped and rolled over on him, lacerating some of theligaments of his hip and rendering him virtually unfit for duty. Hecould hardly walk or ride, and should have been put in hospital, buthe pleaded so hard with MacKenzie and I to let him go, and forget thathe had been hurt, that he was passed as fit for duty. He was a brave, keen soldier. 

February 25th was my birthday and it was the first day that theregiment I had helped to organize twenty-four years before went intoaction. I hoped it would be a fortunate day and that none of myofficers or men would be hurt. Trench work is bad, and gun shot woundsthere are usually fatal as they are generally in the head. I spent anexcellent day and in the evening the Staff had a little dinner for me. I telephoned Brigade Headquarters and found out that up till noon noneof my men had been hurt. They had been told off with the Britishsoldiers and mixed up so they would learn the work. 

While we were at dinner the first of the officers that had been in thetrenches came in. This was Lieutenant Barwick and he reported nocasualties in his section. He was as cool as a cucumber. He wasfollowed by Captain McLaren and Lieutenant Bickle. Then CaptainMcGregor came in and reported for his company. In a few moments I gota note from Major Osborne saying his men were all right so that thefirst day was a fortunate one. I thanked God that it was so, and theofficers were as cheerful as if they had been at a ball game and hadwon it. They said they had put several German snipers out ofbusiness. They drank my health in cocoa and we all hoped that my nextbirthday would be spent at home with all the officers and men with mesafe and sound. 

It is wonderful how careless of danger people become. In the afternoonwhile I was out riding the Huns started shelling the station and town. Half a dozen British Howitzers 9. 2 inch guns started to reply. TheGerman high explosive shells, or "Hiex" as they were called there, were falling five or six hundred yards off, still the children wereplaying in the street and a bunch of little girls were skipping with arope. That night there were several outbursts of rifle fire, and itsounded very much as if an attack was taking place in the section ofthe trenches held by the Royal Montreal Regiment. 

When we got up the next morning the sun was shining very brilliantly. A big British naval gun had opened fire on the German lines, andoverhead two aeroplanes were sailing about directing the fire of thenaval gun. The Germans had opened fire on the aeroplanes with anti-aircraft guns, and their shells were bursting high in the air in whitepuffs like Japanese fireworks. We took our field glasses out to thesquare in front of our billet and could follow the course of the aircraft quite plainly. After each one of our shells fell the plane wouldshoot a rocket as a signal. The German air craft shells fell hundredsof yards short. The aeroplanes soon rose to such a height that theGerman guns quit firing on them. The British naval planes werebeautiful large craft. On the frontier we had already established airpreponderancy and were also doing well now with our artillery. 

About five o'clock Colonel Levison-Gower sent a guide to take me tothe ruined Chateau near the trenches where he had his headquarters. Captain Darling and Major Marshall and Surgeon Major MacKenzieaccompanied me. We took our horses as the Chateau was about two milesdown the road. The road wound along like a serpent with about everysecond house on either side blown up with shell fire or the wallspeppered with rifle bullets. The British guns were growling on eitherside. This is an old historic road. Many a time William the Silent, Count Alva, and the great Marlboro galloped along it. Lille, the greatmasterpiece of fortification designed by Vauban, is only a fewkilometers further on. We were beginning to think and calculate now inkilometers. After a smart trot of about twenty minutes we came to acoal yard on the left side of the road. We had passed a number ofbatteries of heavy guns in position ready to open fire. 

It was a beautiful evening. The moon was in its first quarter andthere was every prospect of a bright night. At the wood yard we weretold to stable our horses, and pretty soon we were struggling alongthe muddy paving stones on our way to the Chateau. We had on one sidepassed a small cemetery that had been set aside for the British andCanadian soldiers shot in the trenches. I should have said that justbefore I left, word had come in that Private Ford of "H" Company hadbeen shot in the thigh. This was our first casualty. A bullet struck aBritish soldier of the Westminsters in the shoulder and cut intoFord's thigh, failing to go through. Ford was a fine brave man. He andanother chum came over from the Edmonton Regiment just before we leftLark Hill. He asked to be allowed to join the 48th, and as he was avery likely chap, with a clean conduct sheet, I said, "come along. " Hewas steward of the Edmonton Club and joined at the outbreak of thewar. He was hit in the thigh, and the fact that he was wearing thekilt greatly facilitated the bleeding of his wound being stopped. Hehad two small arteries cut, but the first aid dressing which hecarried was soon tied over the wound and the hemorrhage ceased. 

It was still light when we got to the Chateau. Colonel Levison-Gowerwelcomed us into what was originally the kitchen, where a beautifulrange decorated with tiles made the room look very cheerful. Severalof his officers were there having tea, and I was offered a cup which Iaccepted. We sat around waiting for darkness. It was going to be amoonlight night, just the night for sharpshooters, but we had somegood sharpshooters of our own out in front of where we were going, and we felt that not even a hare could get through the lines. When itbecame dark Colonel Levison-Gower said "get ready, " and began puttingon his togs. He wore an old Burberry coat with the skirts cut off, heavy trench boots, a slouch British cap and armed himself with a longpole, in other words a stable broom handle. He gave me one and said, "This will help you to find a footing in the trenches. " We started outthe front door of the shattered house, turned to the right past thedriving shed where a sentry sharply challenged us. It was one of thosemoonlight nights with a bit of a haze making objects indistinct andexaggerating them. We started out across the fields towards thetrenches. There was plenty of light to see our way across severalditches. The ground was perfectly flat and the outlines of severalpollard willow stubs, with a bundle of small branches growing out ofthem, etched themselves on my memory. 

"Ware wire, " said the Colonel, who walked ahead to show the way. Iducked a field telephone wire strung between trees. 

"Ware wire, " he said again, and I found we were making our way betweenbarbed wire entanglements. 

"These are the breastworks, " he said, pointing to ghostly heaps thatloomed on either side. "We line them every night, they furnish oursupport. "

Several wet ditches were jumped by the aid of the broom handles wecarried. The ditches in Flanders are exceedingly deep and the gunnersfind much trouble in negotiating them. 

The Colonel pointed out a line of shelter trenches his men held on thefirst advance. They held these trenches where they "dug themselves in"on the first night they won this ground. A little further on we cameto small holes dug in the beet field. 

"Here is where they did some digging that afternoon. " "They are prettyshallow fire trenches, barely deep enough to give cover to a man. "Pretty soon a shadow loomed up ahead of us. "This is our first line oftrenches, " he said. 

The line of trenches proved to be a wall of mud, willow hurdles andsand bags; in reality two walls. I followed him down a short bit ofzigzag ditch or communicating trenches and found myself in thetrenches that will go down to history, the famous trenches ofFlanders. 

It would require the pen of a Dante to picture this inferno. Day andnight, night and day the rifles were cracking like the sound of a bigrifle match on the ranges at home. Two lines of parapets, for thereare really very few trenches, wind sinuously over the country from thesea to the Alps. These parapets are about the height of a man, and runin zigzag fashion. Here and there where the wall is specially built adugout is constructed that will hold four or five men. In these hutsthe men cook and sleep during the day. 

At night they come out like moles digging or straightening theirdefences or else running saps towards the enemy. Here and there alongthe line about every hundred feet a machine gun position is built intothe wall. These positions are not disclosed. The sharp "chop" of theRoss Rifle, the hoarser report of the Lee Enfield and the double cough"To hoo" of the German Mauser made it impossible for any conversationto go on except at very close range. Now and again an eighteen pounderwould crack wickedly in our rear and its projectile went screamingoverhead down to the rear of the German lines to keep the supports andreserves in their "funk holes. " Now and then a German bullet wouldstrike the edge of the parapets in our front and ricochet with awicked note overhead. The air was filled with a swishing sound as ifthousands of swallows were passing overhead. Down the line of thetrenches we went to the right, then back to the left. The new reliefwere going in and manning the parapets. Manning the parapets meansstanding in a recess built into the wall of the parapets on the sideaway from the enemy. At stated periods during the night the men man orline the parapets ready for an attack. "Tut tut tut, " sung out aGerman Maxim and a shower of the bullets swished uncomfortably close. "Bir-r-r-r, " replied a British Vickers that fires twice as fast, andthe German subsided. 

Death was sailing about in the air everywhere, but everybody went onwith their "business as usual. " The Canadians were cool under fire, just as cool as the British Tommy, and violent language and "swank"was very little in evidence. After inspecting the line we walked backacross the turnip field in the fitful moonlight to the ruined Chateau. 

"How is it all going to end?" I asked Colonel Levison-Gower. 

"We will have to break through when the time comes, " he said, "and wecan do it if they give us support. "

The total losses in his corps since he came over in September has beenover fifteen hundred. Very few of the original battalion remained. Iforgot to say that in the trenches we met Captain Street, son of thelate Judge Street of Toronto. He had been distinguishing himself as avery brave man. He had been caught out the day before in front of thetrenches on the devil's strip with a scouting party as a fog liftedand two of his men were wounded. He had his own clothes ripped withthe German bullets. He got his men in safe and doubtless will get hisdecoration. We returned to our quarters, had a bite and went to bed. 

On the morning of the 28th word came from the trenches that PrivateFerland of my regiment had been struck in the head and killed. Ferlandtransferred to the 48th at Valcartier. He had seen service in theAmerican Army and Navy and wore a medal for bravery which I understoodhe had won in the Philippines. He was of French Canadian descent andwas a very good soldier. When the time came to man the parapets in themorning he jumped up on the banquette and called to his comrades tocome along and not be lazy. He was tall and his head was above theparapet and two bullets caught him, one in the eye, the other in thetemple. He was stone dead when he fell. He belonged to CaptainAlexander's Company and the Captain felt very badly about him. Theytook the body out in the evening. He was a Roman Catholic and hisnearest of kin lived in Quebec. The next morning the Sherwoods had acasualty. A soldier was shot through the heart by a sniper. There wasone consolation, my men claimed they got the men of two patrols ofGermans. In one patrol there were six men, and the six went down onthe first volley. One got up and tried to make his trench, but poorfellow they were too much for him. It seemed cruel and rather rough, but the Prussians are not sports, they snipe all the time and when aman falls they fire away at his body for hours to make sure he is not"foxing. " This war is a game without an umpire or referee. 

We buried Ferland at nine o'clock the next morning. Reverend FatherSylvester performed the service which was very simple. The section towhich he belonged marched to the little graveyard. Bullets sang overour heads and pattered on the clay tiles of the barn as the simpleLatin service of the old church was read. High in the easterly sky aGerman aeroplane hovered and our guns were making trouble for him. 

I rode home and found the regiment, all that were out of the trenches, formed up on Victor Hugo Square ready for church service. Canon Scott, who had accompanied my regiment from Caestre, and who had managed tomake his way up from the front in spite of many obstacles, preached avery fine sermon. Eight of my best shots formed the choir. 

General Congrieve, V. C. , was present and before the service began heinstructed me to post a man with a strong field glass to observe ifany German air craft approached. After the service he reviewed theregiment and complimented us very highly on our appearance. He saidthat I had every reason to be proud of the men, and that he had heardnothing but good words spoken of them since they went into thetrenches with his men. He invited me to luncheon next day. Late thatnight, however, I received my marching orders for next day, whichprecluded the possibility of accepting his kind invitation. I was togo next day to a conference at the headquarters of the SeventhDivision, the Guards and the Gordons whose trenches we are to takeover shortly. We are to take their places and give them a chance torest and refit. 

CHAPTER XV

THE FLARE-LIT TRENCHES OF FROMELLES

Next day I started out on foot with an officer of each of my companiesto go to the headquarters of the Seventh Division. We got a motor buswhere the railways cross the Armentieres road. Our Brigadier and Staffwere all there, and we rode out to a big farmhouse where theconference was held. As we went along the road we could hear theMaxims going like air rivetters. The Germans were shelling Armentiereswhich has been shelled again and again. They threw two shells a coupleof blocks away from where I was quartered. When the Germans startshelling the people take to their cellars. The Germans are great onkilling children. Priests are also a specialty of theirs. At the lasttown where we were quartered they were being run out by the English, and they wanted the church tower for a machine gun position. Theyasked the Cure, an old man, for the keys of the church tower and herefused to give them up to them. He was at once taken out and shot. They broke into the tower and cut a Scottish battalion up pretty badlywith their machine guns, but a Scottish sergeant of the battalion madehis way into the church, climbed the tower and surprising the Germansbayoneted them all single handed. He was decorated for this brave actand the shooting of the priest was thus avenged. 

We considered it a very great honor for our regiments to relieve theGuards and Gordons. The people at home in Canada would thus understandthat in spite of bad weather, sickness and other difficulties thatmade us leave over one hundred and forty men of the battalion in thehospitals in England, that our hard work, drill and discipline had notbeen in vain. We had learned a great many lessons and the men nowdrilled and moved like regulars. In fact, the British had no regimentsthere that were smarter, for to tell the truth they had found thetrench work very trying. I desire to give every praise to my officers. They had their work up perfectly, and the men as a result gave me verylittle trouble. On parade the men stood like a rock. The captains andother officers had the knack of getting along with them which makesfor the best of discipline and prompt obedience born of respect. Therewere many regiments there, good ones, but there was very little faultto be found with ours. No commanding officer was ever better supportedby his officers, non-commissioned officers and men. 

It was on March 1st, St. David's day, dear to the Welshmen, that Ivisited the headquarters of the Seventh Division and of the Guard'sBrigade, whose trenches we were to take over. We met ColonelFisher-Rowe of the Guards and had a cup of tea with him. He was a verykindly-mannered man and we took a liking to him. One of his officers, Lieutenant Barry, was to remain with my regiment and initiate us intothe mysteries of the flame-lit trenches in front of Fromelles. 

The regiment paraded on the morning of the 2nd and General Congrieveand Colonel Levison-Gower were on hand to bid us good-bye. It was avery pleasant march. The day was fine and cool and the men in splendidspirits. We reached Bac St. Maur in the afternoon and went intobillets for the night. I was quartered at the Mayor's house. We nowbegan to realize that in Flanders every cross road means a town orvillage. The men were quartered in a flax weaving mill. Every town inthis country boasts a flax mill with numerous weaving and bleachingplants. Many of the factories before the war were owned by Germans. Asthe German-owned factories are never shelled they make splendidbillets for the troops. 

We spent one night in Bac St. Maur, and next day we marched to Sailly, taking over the billets held by the Guards. My quarters were in alarge farm house. The companies were each quartered at a similar farmand telephone wires were soon laid by our signallers. We took over theliving room of the farm house for our sleeping bags, and as straw wasplentiful we made some trusses to soften the feel of the red tile withwhich the room was floored. It was chilly so I ordered a fire to bemade in the grate. We had only just stretched out to enjoy the warmthwhen suddenly there came the report of a rifle followed by afusillade, and bullets flew all over the place. We at first thoughtthe Germans were upon us, but the scattering of the fire brands allover the room told us that some "blighter" had left some clips of livecartridges in the sweepings of the fire place. The stampede which hadfollowed the first burst of fire died away in roars of laughter. Noone was hurt although pieces of cartridge cases had been shot somedistance. 

While we were in these billets we experienced for the first time thesplendid system that had been organized to keep the men of the alliedarmies clean. Soldiers from time immemorial have suffered from verminbut a new cure has been discovered by some one attached to our columnwhich was soon used universally. The cure is gasoline. One or twoapplications destroy all living creatures or their ova. Arrangementshad also been made so that the men could all have a hot bath once aweek. A factory, usually a bleachery, was commandeered and about ahundred large tubs of hot water were provided. One after another thevarious companies and units were marched to these bath houses. Everyman handed in his soiled shirt and underclothing on entering, andreceived a complete clean outfit after he had performed his ablutions. The only inconvenience attached to this system was that the underwear, shirts and socks were pooled and they sometimes got mixed, and ourbattalion being comprised chiefly of very large men sometimes haddifficulty struggling into their clean underwear. 

On Saturday evening, March 6th, we went into the trenches oppositeFromelles at La Cardonnerie Farm which had been the scene of a verywarm action in the previous November. 

Before we came to Flanders we had been told a great deal about thetrenches in the Low Countries. We had seen pictures in the illustratedpapers of deep ditches in which men were packed like sardines, so deepthat we wondered how they used their rifles. After we arrived at thefront our ideas were changed, and we came to the conclusion that thetrenches we had seen depicted at home had been dug for the benefit ofphotographers, and were situated in some nearby park. Certainly thetrenches in Flanders were not at all like the photographs we had seen. In addition, the trenches described in "Our Notes from the Front" werethe trenches at the Aisne, where the country is altogether unlike thecountry in Flanders. At the Aisne the soil is chalk and limestone andthe country broken and rolling. In Flanders, on the other hand, thesoil is sticky, yellow clay, and the land flat with the exception ofan occasional sand dune like an inverted pudding dish, at intervals ofabout ten or fifteen miles apart. Hill 60 was one of these. All overthis flat clay country there are countless ditches. The roads areelevated above the level of the fields, and along each road there is adeep ditch or two, while there is sure to be one along each hedge. Water is invariably found at a depth of about two feet. One cantherefore quite comprehend how in such a country trenches dug in theform of ditches would be full of water in a very short time. 

The trenches in Flanders are altogether unlike our conception of them. Trenches are an evolution, not an accident nor a design. This is howthey happen. Our troops will be advancing or retiring as the case maybe, and will have reached a point where progress is difficult, eitherby reason of the resistance of the enemy or the impossibility of theflanks coming up and conforming. Word comes from a higher authoritythat the men are to "dig in. " Every man carries, attached to his waistbelt on his back, a small entrenching tool, a "grubber" it is called. This tool is like a hoe, only the blade is pointed like a Canadianrailroad shovel, and opposite the blade there is a chisel-shaped pick. The handle, about eighteen inches long, is carried in a sling alongwith the bayonet and enters the "grubber" at right angles. Immediatelythe word comes to "dig in" the men get out their entrenching tools or"grubbers" and set to work. They stand at intervals of about a yardapart, make a half turn to the right, lay down their rifles at arm'slength, and as they are taught to use the grubber in the proneposition, when the ground is favorable they can dig themselves in infifteen minutes. The trench is dug at an angle of about 90 degrees tothe enemy so there will be a clear field of fire in front. Each manplaces the earth in front of him and digs a hole about two feet wide, six feet long and about eighteen inches deep. These are known as"hasty" or "shelter" trenches. They are the safest trenches to be inwhen high explosive shells or Mauser bullets are about. If a shellfalls it will rarely get more than one man. A little straw in thebottom makes these shelter trenches not uncomfortable at night. 

After a battalion has spent a night in the "dig ins, " as they arecalled, it is usual, if no retreat or advance is ordered, for higherauthority to send word for the trenches to be "consolidated. " Thatmeans that more deliberate entrenchments are to be made. "Deliberate"entrenchments in the Low Countries mean parapets, not ditches. "Consolidating" invariably means building parapets. Before a man "digsin" he is supposed to move forward to a position where lying prone hecan have a clear field of fire of about one hundred yards in front ofhim. It will thus be seen that the line of parapets will usually comejust in the rear of his shelter trench. At night the engineers senddown waggon loads of sand-bags and hurdles. These hurdles are made bydriving a number of sharp stakes about two inches in diameter into theground, the stakes being about four feet high and eight inches apart. In and out between these stakes wire and elm or willow branches arewoven basket fashion and the ends are strengthened by a warp or twoof wire. When the hurdle is completed it forms a grill-like section offrom four to ten feet in length, ready to be set up like a fence bydriving the stakes into the ground. Similar hurdles were used at thetime of Cęsar, so they are not new in this war. In fact such hurdleswere used by Julius Cęsar in building his camp a few miles east of theFournes ridge opposite the trenches which we occupied, for it wasthere he met the Nervli. These hurdles were set up on the sidefurtherest away from the enemy and the men, being provided with picksand shovels by the engineers, build parapets of earth against themabout four feet high and four feet through at the top. The hurdle isfastened into the parapet with stakes and wire, and on top of theseparapets are placed three or four rows of sand-bags filled with earth. At intervals among the sand bags steel plates about half an inch thickare inserted. These plates have a hole in them for the rifle to gothrough, and sharpshooters "man" these port holes night and day. Immediately behind these parapets zigzag trenches about four feet deepare dug. These are called "fire" trenches. When the enemy shell us weget into these deep trenches. When they come to an attack we "man" theparapets. Behind the parapets at intervals are located the "dug outs"where the men sleep and hide in the day time. These are built toaccommodate about four men each. They are eighteen inches high, duginto the ground about one foot, then a row of sandbags make a bit ofwall. The roofs are sheets of corrugated iron with three or four rowsof sandbags piled about four feet high. On top of the earth andsandbags there is generally placed a row of broken brick to cause anyshell striking the roof to explode before it penetrates. Behind theparapets are places where the men cook and attend to their wants. 

 [Illustration: SIGNALLERS IN FLANDERS]

Behind the first row of parapets about two or three hundred yards is asecond line of parapets or breast-works with fire trenches. Thisconstitutes the second line or supporting trenches. Behind these againabout one thousand yards, with plenty of barbed wire entanglementsand a clear field of fire, will be built a line of small forts orredoubts. In the parapets at various intervals are located machine-gunpositions hidden so that the enemy's aviators cannot see them. 

Two lines of parapets such as I have described with but few variationsextend from the North Sea near Nieuport to the Alps, for the Germansbuild their trenches exactly like ours. Sometimes they run short ofsandbags, and at one place where we were they were using blue drill, such as engineer's overalls are made of, for sand bags. 

The distance between these two lines of trenches varies; sometimes itis one hundred yards, sometimes two or three hundred, but never morethan four hundred yards. This "devil strip, " as it is called, is nightand day subject to fire from sharpshooters from both sides. 

All night long the Germans shoot "flares" into the air. These flaresare like rockets filled with magnesium and they show a very brilliantlight, so brilliant that objects on the darkest night are brought intoprominent relief a mile behind the line of our trenches. 

The Germans are prodigal in their expenditure of these flares. We hadto husband our supply, but if the lights began to die down a fewrounds of rapid fire from our trenches would soon cause them to sendhundreds of their flares into the air. The Germans are rather given to"nerves, " and while they were cooling down our men read the papers bythe light of their flares. 

On the evening of the sixth we went into the trenches at LaCardonnerie Farm, which being translated means thistle farm. Thetrenches were very wet and muddy and my headquarters were located in aruined farm house about five hundred yards from the trenches. Therewas a fine row of tall elm trees in front of the house, which offereda splendid target for the German gunners. 

We took over the trenches from Colonel Meighen of the MontrealRegiment who had gone into them three days before. In running wiresto the various sections Lieutenant Dansereau and Captain Cory had anexciting time. They had to drop flat in the mud several times whilethe German flares and bullets flew overhead. The left section wastaken by Captain Alexander, the right by Captain McLaren and thecentre by Major Osborne. The left section was about eighty yards awayfrom the enemy and subject to constant bombing and enfilade fire. Theriver Layes crossed our line of trenches. What we would call a creekin Canada is called a river in Flanders. Five lines of wire connectedus with the various sections of the front. Captain McGregor's Companywas in reserve, hidden away in dug-outs. No finer officer ever drewthe breath of life than Captain McGregor. Always cheerful and loyal, an experienced soldier of the King, he did credit to his name. Therewere many McGregors in the army but none braver, more skilful orcareful of their men than Captain Archie McGregor, veteran ofPaardeburg. 

The duties of a commanding officer, and also of company officers whiletheir units are in the trenches, are so strenuous as to leave verylittle leisure. A great many reports have to be sent to headquartersduring the night, and at least once an hour the signallers in thetrenches have to report that they are awake. Every burst of riflefire, every bomb explosion, has to be reported, and any unusualhappenings explained. It soon becomes the usual thing to throw one'sself down on an old mattress, tuck a blanket over you and take fortywinks. 

It did not take us very long to get into the swing of things andbecome quite at home. It is a law of the trenches that at night themen must sleep on their arms, that is to say, they must sleep, if theysleep at all, in their greatcoats, clothing and boots, with equipmentand ammunition buckled on and rifle in hand, so as to be ready to"stand to" at a moment's warning. To "stand to" means to fall inbehind the parapets ready to repel or take part in an attack. In thetrenches the men "stand to" at least half an hour before daylight andremain in readiness to man their parapets until half an hour afterdawn. Then they are ordered to "stand down. "

The first duty of a soldier in a well ordered regiment after he"stands down" is to take out his oil-bottle and cleaning apparatus andclean his rifle. Then he takes off his puttees, boots and socks, rubshis feet to restore circulation, and if he has an extra pair of sockshe puts them on, or if not he changes the ones he is wearing from onefoot to the other, puts on his boots and puttees again. Cotton socksare very uncomfortable, for when a man stands all day and sleeps atnight in his boots, if the socks are made of hard thread, the threadwill leave a mark in the feet. Unless the men remove their puttees, boots and socks once a day they are liable to have "frost bite""cobble feet" or varicose veins. These troubles soon render them fitsubjects for the hospital. After the rifle and feet are attended tothe men shave. Our men always shaved every day, and were very proud oftheir clean appearance in spite of the mud. One man was brought beforeme shortly after we went into the trenches for neglecting to shave. Heexplained that he had served in one of the South African wars and thaton service there he was supposed to wear a beard. I fined him forneglecting to observe the King's Regulations and Orders, and hiscomrades who had warned him against trying to "put anything over" onthe Commanding Officer gave him the laugh. He asked to see me andexpressed such regret that I forgave him. He was a splendid soldierand his example made a rule for the others. 

Perhaps it will be just as well here to explain the remainder of thedaily routine and how the men are fed and cared for. Some time duringthe night the company waggons, which are kept in billets at thequartermaster's stores, are loaded with food for the men in thetrenches. This food, also charcoal, for fuel, barbed wire and othersupplies are placed in sand bags, in weights that one man can carry. Afatigue party from each platoon meets the waggons at a convenientspot, and carries their respective sacks into the trenches held bytheir platoons. A non-commissioned officer from each company remainsalways in the quartermaster's tent to supervise the preparing ofsupplies for his company. He sees that the company cooks preparesteaks, soups and other food to be sent into the trenches. He isresponsible to his company commander that his company gets its propershare. 

The rationing usually begins about eight o'clock, and if you listenyou can hear the rumble of the ration waggons in the German lines asclearly as in our own. At this hour there was generally a truce tosniping, but as soon as either side finishes rationing a few rounds ofrapid fire warns the other to hurry up and get down to the business ofkilling. 

When the water in the vicinity of the trenches is bad, water waggonsare brought down along with the ration waggons, and the men's canteensand a number of dixies or camp kettles are filled with water and sentinto the trenches. 

Every man, besides carrying a "First Aid" bandage in the flap of hiscoat, carries a day's "iron" rations in his haversack. An "iron"ration consists of two or three hard-tack biscuits, a packagecontaining tea and sugar, and a tin of what is currently known as"Macconnachie's Rations. " This consists of a tin containing about apound of what would generally be called thick Irish Stew, made ofmeat, potatoes, green peas, carrots and some condiments. Thankgoodness it contains no Brussels Sprouts. Great Britain went BrusselsSprout mad about the time we got over there. Wherever we went, on thetrains, in the restaurants we had indigestible Brussels Sprouts. 

In the trenches the men make charcoal fires, boil water, make tea andfry their ham or bacon and eggs. Ye gods what eggs they ate. All thehens in Flanders seemed to be busy night and day laying eggs for theCanadian soldiers at five cents an egg. 

This is a standard feeding routine for the men in the trenches. Themen and officers get the same rations. Often the men fare much betterthan the officers for they get parcels of food from friends in GreatBritain and Canada. The officers are supposed to be millionaires andof course are expected to live like Nabobs. But they do not haveanything better than the men. 

After the men have cleaned up they gather about the charcoal fire withtwo or three chums that mess together. Bacon or ham of the bestquality is soon sizzling in the lid of a dixie. Frequently some coldpotatoes are provided which are sliced in with the ham and the meatration is ready. There is always plenty of good white bread, whicharrived the day before fresh from England. There is tinned butter fromAustralia, and hot tea with plenty of sugar in it. After the meat theyhave dessert. Usually a fine tin of jam with more bread and butter. Ifjam does not suit, or they grow tired of jam, they have honey. What abreakfast for a hungry man. The noon day meal will consist of thicksoup, steak or mutton chops grilled on charcoal, potatoes dug fromnearby pits in the deserted farms, bread, butter, tea and jam orhoney. For supper they had cold meat, cheese, bread and butter, jamand tea. The men seldom grumbled at their food as everything was ofthe best quality, and they had plenty of work and fresh air to givethem good appetites, and with such excellent fare they gain instrength and weight. Many a weak, hollow-chested "mother's boy" hasdeveloped in a few months into a rosy-cheeked, bread-shoulderedathlete, weighing twelve or fourteen stone. 

It was a wonderful sight at night to watch the trenches at Fromelles. As far as the eye could see from the North Sea, away past Bethune anddeath-stricken La Bassee, streamed the meteor flares like a greatMilky Way, the flares crossing and recrossing each other. In front ofus the German Mausers sound with their constant "to-ho, " "to-ho, " forthe Mauser has a double report. On the right the wicked bark of theEnglish Lee-Enfield rifles, and along our front and to our left the"chop, chop" of the Ross rifle of the Canadian Division. The Ross hasa sound at a distance, for all the world like a lot of men choppingwood in a hardwood forest. No wonder the Germans knew when theCanadians came opposite their sector. Whenever they heard the Rossthey generally got an attack of nerves and would fire wildly into theair on the slightest excuse. 

I visited the line of the trenches passing from flank to flank thesecond night we were in them and laid plans with our officers tostrengthen the position so as to make it almost impregnable. The firstman to be killed in these trenches was Private Stanley, a Toronto man, who was shot through the head while standing behind the parapet atnight. He fell dead in the arms of his son. We buried him the nextevening at the Canadian Cemetery at La Cardonnerie Farm by the fitfulgleam of an electric torch while the bullets and shells whistledoverhead. 

The Germans were very vicious when we went into the trenches for thefirst time, but we adjusted our fire so as to enfilade their trenches, that is to say, instead of firing at the trenches opposite we aimed tothe right or the left so our bullets dropped behind their parapets. Iwent along the trenches with a photograph of their position taken froman aeroplane and pointed out to the section commanders the targets andrange so as to get in behind the German lines. Sand bags and portholes were adjusted to this new form of fire and orders were issued toopen enfilade fire after nine at night, sniping briskly. Some of ourmen suggested that we must have hit a German General because suddenlythe whole German line burst into a sheet of flame and they continuedto fire their rifles for all they were worth for about fifteenminutes. After that night the Germans opposite kept very quiet when wewere in the trenches. A few days later we heard that General Von Kluckhad been wounded opposite our lines. We wondered if we had hit him. 

The friends of the regiment at home were kind enough to present ourbattalion with Khaki Tam O' Shanters which we used in the trenches. They were a splendid headdress and we had very few casualties duringour various turns of duty in the front line, which good fortune weascribed to this headdress. General Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien was verymuch taken with the "tam" as a trench cap. 

On the morning of March 8th, while Major MacKenzie and I were havingcoffee, the Germans began shelling our quarters. We were in an oldbrick house on the Rue Pettion and our breakfast was rudely disturbedby several loud reports. One of the orderlies came in to say thatGerman shells were falling in the field in front of the house. We wentout to see what was happening. The Germans were firing salvos of fourshells at a time and "searching" for my humble quarters. First fourshells fell about fifty yards apart about five hundred yards away tothe right looking to our rear. Then four more came closer. Salvofollowed salvo but a number of the shells failed to explode. Afterthey had raked out our front yard we heard four burst behind ourquarters and we knew that the next bracket would get our happy home. It did. Four struck the barn and the quarters occupied by CaptainMcGregor and his staff fifty feet away from where we stood. We fearedthat our cows were gone, done to death by miserable Hun gunners. Whenwe took over these quarters the Scots Guards were good enough to turnover three cows in good milking trim to our headquarters. These threecows were all that were left on the farm of a fine herd of brown Swisscattle. The rest of the herd were scattered about the fields withtheir feet sticking up in the air, and it was our unpleasant duty tolater on bury them darkly at dead of night. We forgot our threemilkers for the moment, however, as we heard the whistling of moreshells and orders were given for everybody to duck and get undercover. Two shells struck the house and tore about two inches off thetile ridge at intervals of about ten feet apart. They fell in theditch in front of the house but failed to explode. Four more fell tothe right, and then the gunners began to rake back and forward, dropping in all about fifty shells within a radius of five hundredyards. Then they took up another target and we had leisure to examinethe damage. Our shack had escaped except for a few broken tiles, thenext building south occupied by Captain McGregor had one room blownup, that in which he had his cot. Fortunately he was out when theGerman visitors arrived. The shell, a four inch high explosive, tore acouple of sandbags out of the back window, and as it apparently had a"delay action" fuse it burst fairly in the middle of the room. Therewas nothing left of Captain McGregor's cot but a pile of woollenshreds. His trunk and the clothing hanging on the wall were ripped topieces. 

Captain Perry was having a bath in an old fashioned wash tub in thenext room when the explosion took place. Nothing happened to him as hebore a charmed life. 

Some of the shells that fell into the ditch were dug up by SergeantLewis who was in charge of our pioneers. They were four inch highexplosives. 

CHAPTER XVI

WITH GENERAL SIR DOUGLAS HAIG

When we left the trenches at Fromelles for the first time we took upbillets on the Rue Du Quesne. This street was named after a one-timeGeneral and Governor of Canada during the French regime. His name isstill perpetuated in the great steel works at Pittsburg, U. S. A. , alongwith that of Lord Pitt and Braddock, for it was before Fort Du Quesnethat General Braddock fell in 1755. Braddock was one of thoseunfortunate British Generals who were sent out to command colonials. He would not take the advice of his colonial officers and paid thepenalty of his unpreparedness with his life. A comparison of Indianwarfare of one hundred and fifty years ago with the war of to-day willconvince anyone that the Red Indians on the warpath had nothing on theGermans. They burned houses and killed innocent women and children. For these atrocities they gained unenviable notoriety. The Germans dothe same things. Hardly a farm house where we were billeted that didnot have the graves of the peaceful occupants in the gardens close by. Men, women and children were destroyed by shell and other implementsof war. At Armentieres we were shown Belgian children whose hands hadbeen hacked off, and at the farms we saw old men maimed and withwithered arms and legs still bearing the marks of the cords whichbound them to trees and posts. 

"Frightfulness" was part of the German war religion. When theirartillery or sharpshooters were bested in the trenches, like a lot ofmad dogs they turned their guns on the farm houses at their extremerange hoping to kill or destroy somebody. The poor peasants suffer. The old men, boys, women and children who try their best to till thesoil are caught unawares by the deadly shrapnel and are killed. Thecourage of these people is wonderful. I have seen a young girl drivinga single horse in front of a hand-made wooden harrow all afternoonwith the shells falling within two hundred yards of her. The dastardlyGerman gunners were trying to kill her and her horse but an all-wiseProvidence destroyed the aim of the cowards and she escaped unhurt. 

These doctrines of "frightfulness" are laid down by two of theforemost German writers on the Art of War. Clausewitz, who is alwaysquoted in the war schools dealing with the question, says, "Philanthropists may think it possible that the disarmament orsubjection of the enemy can be effected by some artificial meanswithout causing too many wounds and that this is the true aim ofmilitary science. Pretty as this looks we must refute this error, forin such dangerous matters as war, errors arising from good nature arethe worst of all. As the employment of physical force to its fullestextent in no wise excludes the co-operation of intelligence, itfollows that he who makes use of this force ruthlessly and withoutsparing blood must obtain an ascendancy if the enemy does not dolikewise. By so doing he frames a law for the other and thus bothstrain every nerve without finding any other limitation but their ownnatural counterpoise. " Von Der Goltz, the tutor of the Turks and theauthor of a German textbook on war, "The Nation in Arms, " says, "Iffrom humanitarian principles a nation decided not to resort toextremities, but to employ its strength up to a given point only, itwould soon find itself swept onward against its will. No enemy wouldconsider itself bound to observe a similar limitation. So far fromthis being the case each would immediately avail himself of thevoluntary moderation of the other to outstrip him at once inactivity. "

In other words, according to the German conception, war is a gamewithout an umpire or a referee. The boast of civilization that it hasameliorated the conditions of war, and of chivalry that the old, thewomen and children shall be protected in the zone of militaryactivity, have ceased to be of any value. 

We had comfortable quarters on the Rue Du Quesne but we were wellunder shell and rifle fire. Every night the Mauser bullets rattled onthe roof and during the day the German gunners shelled the housesalong the road. Rifle bullets flew around very freely at night and wefancied at first that snipers were busy within our lines. Sentrieswere posted on the roofs of barns and outhouses to watch for thesepests. Several men of other regiments had been hit at nights on theroads, so orders were given to the peasants to clear out of the frontline and stay in the houses at nights. Sentries, who were always inthe war zone posted double, were warned to be more vigilant. Whilehere Corporal Y---- of the headquarters staff distinguished himself byhitting a German artillery observer at a range of thirteen hundredyards. Y---- and several others had climbed to a barn roof to view thecountry with powerful telescopes to see if the Germans had any snipersin barns or trees. A careful reconnaissance of their lines disclosedan officer in artillery uniform up a willow tree. Y----, who was adead shot, took his Ross, gave two degrees of wind and we all guessedthe elevation as fourteen hundred yards. He fired and our glasses wereall levelled on the German, who we knew had heard the bullet whizpast, for he looked up, so Y---- cut the range down to twelve hundredyards and fired again, and this time the German looked down, so weknew his aim was too low. We then saw him deliberately take aim at ourtrenches and fire. Y---- then cut the bracket in two and put hiselevation at thirteen hundred yards. This time the Hun toppled overout of the tree, head first, and a cheer went up. He would snipe orobserve no more. 

We were now in General Haig's command, and rumours were going aroundthat there would be something doing before very long. We were veryeager to get into the big drive which was expected in the spring. 

The second time we went into the trenches the men were warned to beexceedingly careful of themselves, but to enfilade the German lineswith steady sniping so as to keep the fire down. 

Every night the companies had to patrol in front of our trenches andexamine the wires. This is a very dangerous pastime and everybodywanted to volunteer for the service so I ordered that the men shouldbe chosen by roster, that is, according to their turn. Sergeant Jonesgot out one night in a turnip patch in front of our lines. There was aGerman sniper in the same patch so they began to stalk each other. Jones got his man first, but as the German keeled over he fired andthe bullet tore some fingers off Jones' hand and gave him a severeflesh wound in the chest. We got Jones in and bound him up, andbrought him to my headquarters where a motor ambulance came and tookhim away. He was suffering a lot of pain but was game. His wounds werenot dangerous. 

There are certain laws of the trenches that must be obeyed. First, ifyou lose your trenches you are told in general orders that you musttake them back at once with the bayonet. You must not look for anyoneelse to do that trick for you. Another is that if a man is wounded thestretcher bearers must bind his wound with a first aid bandage, whicheach soldier carries in the flap of his coat, after the wound has beencauterized first with tincture of iodine, which is supplied to theofficers and bearers in bottles. The man is then kept in the trenchtill evening when he is taken out on a stretcher. If shot through thelower part of the body a man is kept quiet where he falls for a coupleof hours so that nature will herself repair internal bleeding. To atonce move a man who is shot through the body is to spoil his chance ofrecovery. 

Our sharpshooters are told to shoot constantly at the enemy's portholes or at any moving figure along the enemy's line. When we see aperiscope shoved over the enemy's parapet it is the custom for oursharpshooters to aim at it, and after lowering the aim to fire aboutsix inches from the top of the German parapet. As their parapets arethin we invariably find we have scored a hit. Sometimes duels areindulged in between the German snipers and our sharpshooters. One daya duel of this kind took place between Company Sergeant-Major De Hartand the German who manned the porthole opposite. They fired shot forshot. Our sergeant fired at the German's plate, and he answered backon ours. Shot after shot was exchanged. Alongside of the porthole wehad a man watching with a telescope through another porthole. On thetenth shot De Hart scored. His shot went through and the Germansclosed up the porthole and went out of business for the day. Oneafternoon Lieutenant Williams-Taylor of Montreal, a very brave, bright, young officer, came to see me. He was on the headquartersstaff and I had promised to show him around. Staff officers seldomwant to look over the trenches but he did. I took him along with meand had to caution him several times as he is tall and the parapets inplaces were low. We went the whole line of the trenches. When we cameto Captain McLaren's section one of our men was firing and I asked himwhat was the matter. He said he was firing at a German who was diggingin a sap-head at the salient opposite, about four hundred yards off. Our man was firing and missing, and every time he fired the Germanwaved a miss, as they do on the rifle butts with his shovel. Nowsapping is a most dangerous form of employment. It is dangerous for usand it is our business to make it dangerous for the enemy who isrunning the sap. What is a sap? Well, this kind of a sap was aconnecting trench which the Germans were running out from their lineso they could get closer to our line in order to start another line oftrenches, or else get close up with a lot of men to attack us. Asapper works on a trench of this kind differently to the way he workson an ordinary trench. He digs and picks ahead of him and throws theloose earth on a blanket between his feet. This earth is carried awayin sand bags and put somewhere else, and there is nothing to show thatsapping is going on in your front unless an aeroplane detects it. This sap was being run towards us along an irrigation ditch, and asthe German sapper could not see us for trees he did not know thatthere was a point in our line from which we could see him. He wassomething of a humorist and thought he was having a lot of fun at ourexpense. Several shots from our men had failed to stop him. I triedtwo shots but he still kept on waving the shovel. I gave the rifle toLieutenant Taylor at his request and pointed out the target. At hisfirst shot the German failed to signal a miss. The men congratulatedTaylor on scoring a hit, but he modestly remarked that it was a chanceshot and he did not think he had scored. From that time on Lt. Williams-Taylor was a constant visitor in the trenches. He was in thehottest part of the action at St. Julien, rifle in hand, fighting likea hero. 

In the first trenches we occupied the line consisted of two rows ofparapets. The front one was called the parapet, the rear the parado. The latter was to protect the men from the "kick back" of the Germanhigh explosive shells. This form of entrenchment has the disadvantagethat if the enemy gets over your front parapet he has a rear parapetwhich he can use against you and you have great difficulty in gettinghim out. Where we were later the line consisted of a series of smallredoubts or forts connected up with a parapet or curtain. The redoubtswere closed at the back and in them were built the dugouts in whichthe defenders sleep. The redoubts were very strongly held, and if theGermans got over the single parapets they could be driven back withfire from the redoubts and supporting fire trenches. 

For some time we had been waiting patiently for the big advance whichhad been promised as soon as the ground got hard enough for troops tomanoeuvre over the fields. In the fall and winter in Flanders thebrown clay of the field is so sticky and soft that troops cannotmanoeuvre except on the roads. That is why in former wars in the lowcountries the troops went into trenches during the winter. Theweather had been warm and sunny for some days and the creeks, whichthey designate there with the euphonious titles of rivers, had fallena foot or two. There was still plenty of water in the country for theFlemings are great lovers of water. Drains are not used there to carryoff water at all. They are used to contain water. Every farm has aseries of big ditches, three to six feet wide and about five feetdeep, running across it. The water is drained off the land with tileinto these ditches, but on the other hand these ditches provide withthe aforesaid tile a form of sub-irrigation inasmuch as the water inthe dry season flows back into the sub-soil through these same tile. The ditches play a big part in the economy of the farms. The farmyardbuildings are built close alongside the paved roads. The roads arepaved with stone blocks about 8"×16". The Flemish farmer does his roadwork once in a hundred years when he turns these blocks over and givesthem a fresh surface. A gateway, generally arched, leads into a squarearound which the farm buildings stand. Next the road will be thedwelling houses all under one roof two storeys high. One part, --themaster's, --will have its parlor and parlor bedroom. Then there will bea kitchen, then other rooms for the help, then a dairy. On the otherside of the square the pigs and horses have quarters. Opposite on theright from the gate there will be cow stables, then the back of thesquare will be the barn. The roofs are all connected up. Around theinside of the court yard next the buildings will run a brick sidewalkabout six feet wide, and the square in the centre contains a brickwalled pit into which the refuse of the stables and houses is thrown. One corner of this midden is bricked off to form a drainage pit. Ofall the smells! Enough said. 

One of the most interesting features of the farm is the dairy. Eachfarm boasts of one, and sometimes as many as three dogs. These dogsare never allowed to roam at will as in England or Canada. They are afine robust breed, like small mastiffs with pointed wolfish ears. Onthe outside of each farmhouse one of the most prominent features is abig upright wheel like a water wheel, fully fourteen feet indiameter. All day long the dogs run in this wheel driving themachinery for the dairy. After one dog gets tired he is taken out, andif the farm is a large one another dog is put in. The Flemish dogscertainly have to work for their living and make up for the lazy lifeof their brethren elsewhere. Many of these dogs have long bodies andrun to what we would call the daschhund type. I can quite understandhow in trying to catch his tail while working the wheel the process ofevolution has brought about the long body of the daschhund. 

 [Illustration: THE TRENCHES IN WINTER]

According to my recollections of Cęsar they had hedges and ditches, beautifully cultivated fields and beer and wine in Flanders twothousand years old. No doubt they had those dog wheels then also. Butthat does not end the ditch question. Around each group of farmbuildings there is what we would call a moat, the biggest ditch on thefarm. This moat will be from five to twenty feet deep and fully twentyfeet wide. There will be a bridge at the front and back. When thefront and back gates are closed no one can get at the Flemishchickens. Now what use are these high-smelling pits and ditches. TheFlemings have a use for them. They pump out the contents into greatbig puncheons on their three-wheeled carts, and they spread thisliquid, rich in nitrates, potash and other fertilizing materials overtheir growing crops. That is why if a man or a horse gets cut inFlanders he has to go and be inoculated against lock-jaw. Wounds donot heal readily here, the soil and air are too rich in bacteria. If awound is not sterilized at once with iodine a man generally getsgangrene and dies of it. 

The farmers in Canada will no doubt be interested in the kind of stockon these farms. Well, first the horses. They have a magnificent breedof heavy horses called the heavy Fleming or Belgian, which is like agreat Percheron with a flat bone and a foot or so sawed off its legs. They are like our Canadian general purpose breed, but much heavier. Ihave seen horses on almost every farm where my men were billeted thatwould weigh from 1, 600 to 2, 000 pounds. These horses are clean-limbed, close-coupled and wonderfully docile and obedient. They answer to theword "Gee, " which seems to be an international phrase. A "jerk-line"on the collar does the rest. Most of the best horses are brought fromBelgium. A thoroughbred three-year-old mare will cost three hundreddollars. 

The cows on the farms are a fine brown breed, not quite as large asthe Holsteins, but they are prolific and splendid milkers. They arenot allowed to roam the fields. They are much like the brown Swissbreed or red Devon, such as can be found in Devonshire. What struck memost was their splendid vigor. They are not placid and anęmic such asour average dairy cows, but full of life and action. 

The hogs are a large white razor back with long ears that droop overtheir noses. They give very little trouble and live on comparativelynothing. I have never seen them fed. The farmers say they let themroot for themselves until they are getting them ready for market. 

The hens are a very fine breed, akin to our Wyandotte in shape, but ofvarious colors. They are great egg producers and kept the soldiersgoing at sixty cents a dozen. The Fleming, with all his splendid farmland, still makes his own implements. Home made wooden, iron shodploughs and wooden harrows are the rule. The implement manufacturersare not encouraged. 

CHAPTER XVII

THE BATTLE OF NEUVE CHAPELLE

On the morning of the 8th of March, being Monday, the Germans beganthe week early by heaving some more shells in the direction of theruin that guarded our quarters. Some one of our men during the nighthad trundled a Flemish cart that was in the way in the farmyard, outinto the field about two hundred yards away. The vigilant Germans'aircraft took it for a field gun, and notifying their batteries theyproceeded to shell it with shrapnel and high explosive shells. Thecart, however, stood it well. After they quit shelling some of usventured over to see what damage had been done. Beyond peppering thewoodwork the dummy gun was intact. I picked up the fuse of one of theshrapnel shells and found that the range had been set at 3, 400 metres. The shell in its flight had clipped a small limb off one of the tallsentinel elms in front of our dug-outs. With a compass we learned thedirection of the German battery on the map, which was located behind ahedge at the cross roads east of Fromelles. A telephone message to ourguns and a half dozen shells from our five-inch guns, and thisparticular German battery troubled us no more. 

After the shelling the adjutant of the Royal Scots Battalion on ourright came over to see me to talk over the battle which we knew wasnow due. I had been told of this by General Turner, V. C. , the daybefore. We knew that the big advance was about to begin, and a studyof the map told us that the first blow would likely be struck at NeuveChapelle, with an idea of forcing our line forward several miles so wewould gain the command of the high ground back of Aubers, Herlies andFromelles, a region of coal mines. A branch line of railway ran fromLa Bassee to Fromelles and supplied the German batteries on our frontwith ammunition and no doubt took coal back. On the east side of theridge ran the canal from La Bassee to Lille, also the two lines ofrailway between the same places. With our footing secure on the AubersRidge the gates of Lille and La Bassee would be at our mercy. Thenwith a mobile field army there would be nothing to stop us till we gotto Ghent or Brussels. This was the place to drive the wedge that wouldcut the German line in two, and once we had Lille we would endangerthe whole German lines of communication north and south. It used to bea favourite amusement among the officers of our staff in the eveningsto take the map of Western Europe, which we kept hanging on the wall, and plan campaigns to drive the Germans out of Flanders. Invariablytwo lines of advance would be chosen. The first via Lille and Ghent, to Antwerp, along the high ground between the River Scheldt and theLys. The second route would invariably begin at the Somme and runalong the plateau between the Sambre and Meuse via way of Le Cateau, Mons, Charleroi to Namur. 

All this is historical ground, the Low Countries of history. Over thisground fought Cęsar, Charlemagne, William the Silent, Marlborough, Napoleon and all the great captains of history. We used to calculatethe men, the marches and the guns required. We would plan how we wouldform a great corps army behind the trenches in preparation for a grandadvance. The attack would be delivered against two different points. Afeint against one position that would bring the German corps reserves, that were always available in some central point, to the assistance oftheir comrades. This corps army we knew always come on the third dayof a fight. We would have it come to the wrong place. Then a fiercestorm of artillery fire would be delivered at the point where the realgap in the line was to be made; a drive through it with the infantry, with plenty of supports; such were Wellington's methods. Then a "steamroller" advance for the objective, surrounding and disregardingfortified villages and redoubts, that would send the Germansscattering right and left for the Rhine. We realized that our task aspart of the trench army would be a difficult one, but we had everyconfidence that the trench army could open the gate for a field armyat any point in the line required. But a trench army in so doing wouldlose one third of its effectives, and putting a regiment in thetrenches for a long tour of trench work destroys its initiative as faras field manoeuvring is concerned. All these things were planned andmarches calculated. It was figured out where the Germans might make astand, generally where some famous battle had been fought in the past, how they would be overwhelmed with fresh divisions on their flanks, brought up in motor trucks and their troops blown out of the earthwith hundreds of "four point five" and "six-inch" field howitzerswhich were proving to be such excellent guns for our troops. That ishow we planned to drive the enemy out of Flanders. Alas, most of thoseyoung ardent soldiers who were so well trained by our militarycolleges to carry on the staff work of such an army of invasion weredoomed to give up their lives in the sodden and muddy trenches. We hadconfidence that the day would come soon when a big field army would beready behind us, and it would be only a case of "whoop" and "haloo"and the German fox would be off full tear for the cover of the Rhineand its fortress strongholds. 

For days we had been gaining superiority in various ways over theenemy. Our riflemen dominated theirs. When we took over the trenchesfirst, if we fired one shot they answered with ten. Now they did notanswer at all. When our guns fired on their guns for every shell wehanded to them they religiously gave us five back. Now they kept stilland took their gruel. They had given us trouble with their trenchmortars. They had wounded several of my men with the bombs, but theytried to move their mortar into a new position one day and we spottedit. The artillery observing officer in our trenches, young LieutenantRyerson, called up the guns and the second shell sent their mortar tosmithereens. A great artillery officer was young Lieut. Ryerson, fitto command any battery. 

For a long time the German aeroplanes flew over us every morning atsunrise, but now we had a dozen aeroplanes to their one and theirswere rather shy. Our guns had ranged up and down the whole front andwe had all begun to get confident and to think that it was only amatter of a few days until we would be on the high road to Brussels. 

On top of all this came a very inspiring address from General SirDouglas Haig, commanding our army. He pointed out that the time hadcome for a fresh great effort. He also informed us that we werestronger than the enemy, all of which gave us more confidence. 

I was told privately that the drive was to take place on our right, and as soon as the brigade on our right had cleared out the Germans ontheir front that we were to echelon and follow suit and charge. 

On our right the Germans were four hundred yards away across the open. I went down and examined the lines carefully with Captain Daniels, andfound that there were two places where a lot of men could be taken outof our trenches and led half way across to the German lines on "dead"ground, that is ground on which they would be hidden. LieutenantSchonberger and Captain Warren made a sketch of this ground. I talkedthe matter over with the captains and they were very much cheered upover the prospect of a fight. Captains MacLaren and Danielsimmediately began fixing up exits from their trenches. Steps were cutin the parapets, and in other places openings were made. The openingin the parapets that were used for "listening" posts and for thepatrols to go in and out were widened. 

What is a listening post? A listening post is made in this way: A gapwhich is carefully hidden with sandbags is cut in the parapets. Then asap is run out several hundred feet in zigzag fashion, whichterminates in a rifle pit, about five feet deep that will accommodateabout four men. At night two sentries sit in this pit and listen tothe sounds in the enemy's lines. Sometimes if the rifle pit is wet acouple of barrels are put in and the sentries stand in the barrels. They notify the trenches of any unusual movement or sounds made by theenemy. 

In the evening we left the trenches and went into divisional reserveat Rue Du Quesne. Let me give you some idea of the lay of the country. There is a road about every kilometer and they run roughly northwestand northeast. 

Running southwest and almost parallel with the trenches was RuePettion, a short road that terminated at the Fromelles road near ourheadquarters. The next street, a little over a mile back, is Rue DuBois, north of the Fromelles Road, south of the Fromelles Road it iscalled the Rue De Tilleloy. At the corner there was a shrine which hadsuffered from shell fire and which Canon Scott had immortalized in apoem, the best he has written and the best I have read since the warbegan. The next street back is the Rue Du Quesne. Right through thecentre of our position ran the Fromelles Road. A kilometer southwest, the trench line is crossed by the road to Aubers called the RueD'Enfer, or in our language, the Road to Hell. If this road is pavedwith good intentions I have never seen any of them. It is stronglyheld by the Germans. The "intentions" take the form of "crump" holesexcavated by German shells in the pavement. 

The country on our side is perfectly flat and full of hedges andditches. Every hedge concealed a battery of guns of all kinds andsizes. On the German side, half a mile back from their trenches, theground slopes up. The villages of Aubers and Fromelle are on thewestern slope and the ridge behind is our true objective. On the ridgewe could see the church steeples of Herlies to the right and Fournesto the left, while here and there peep the derricks, or as we inAmerica call them the "breakers" of coal pits. Beyond the ridge theland slopes to the Scheldt. It was on the eastern slope of this ridgethat Cęsar fought his greatest battles. There the Nervli chargedacross the stream in thousands and fought until hardly a man of themwas left, fought until their dead were piled up breast high, foughttill Cęsar had to take a buckler and spear from a fallen soldier todefend himself. On all sides, from the horizon downward, rows of tallelm trees cast their gaunt leafless branches in the air. Between themwere a sea of hedges and green brown boles of pollard willows. Elmsgenerally grew along the roadways and the limbs for fifty feet up aretrimmed off annually and tied up into faggots. The willows grew alongthe ditches. They are trimmed off about twelve or fourteen feet abovethe ground and the new branches that sprout out from their trunksprovide faggots for firewood as well as withes for the manufacture ofchairs, baskets and hampers. The faggots are sometimes placed inearthen pits and burned into charcoal, providing an excellent fuel forthe interesting Dutch stoves found in the kitchens in this country. 

For several days our guns had been registering on the enemy. That isto say, our artillery observing officers would go into the trencheswith a telephone connected up with their batteries. Then the batteryfires a shot at the enemy's parapets, generally well over. He reportsthe hit right or left, and then the range is reduced until the objectis hit. That range direction and elevation is recorded in a registerat the gun. The man who sets the gun does not see the object he isfiring at at all, but he knows when his gun is trained in a certainline at a certain elevation he will hit that part of the enemy'sparapet. We had all kinds of guns ready for the fray. The Canadiansixty pounders under Major McGee a few days before had smashed up thebrown tower of Fromelles. This tower had been used by the Germans foran artillery observing station, and for several months the British hadbeen firing at it without success. In about three shots McGee's gunsgot the tower and a half dozen shells reduced it to a hopeless ruin sothat it was of no use to anyone. The church tower of Aubers followedsuit. When the British Tommies heard the "birr" of the five-inchCanadian shells they all asked whose they were. The Scots thought theyhad come from Scotland. When they saw Aubers tower disappear in acloud of dust they inquired again, "What bally gunners are those?"When told they were the Canadians, they said, "Bravo, Canadians, youare some class, " and cheered heartily. This gave our gunners areputation that lasted for the rest of the war. 

Besides our five-inch guns we had our eighteen pounder batteries linedup and down behind us, also horse artillery guns from India and anarmoured train manned by the navy. They had long six-inch guns thatthrew a terrible projectile. We had also some new fifteen-inchhowitzers that had been brought over from England. "Grandmas" theycalled these guns because they were short and stout. "Grandma" whenfired only gave a low grunt, but when her shell broke four or fivemiles off, it burst with a "Car-u-m-p" that rattled the windows andshook the earth down in our dugouts. 

I had a very interesting time one day riding to a conference at theheadquarters of General Sir H. S. Rawlinson, Bt. I came cantering alonga road and a sudden turn brought us to a railway crossing. The navalguns were on an armoured train, the Churchill battery on either sideof this crossing, and the gunners seemed to have wakened up for theybegan firing when we were about five hundred yards off. I was riding apowerful "Cayuse" or western horse, which Captain "Rudd" Marshall, with rare good judgment, had selected for me at Valcartier. He turnedout to be a splendid charger. Although low set he carried me easily. He was as wise as an owl and as sure-footed as a cat. It took a gooddeal of courage on his part to face the naval battery firing for allit was worth, the flames from the black fiery muzzles of the gunsalmost scorching his hide, but he did it without flinching, althoughthe jar of the guns almost shook him off his feet several times. I canquite realize the task of the Noble Six Hundred had in charging theRussian batteries at Balaclava. I have since seen a moving picture ofthis battery in action and recognized the raised gate of the railwaycrossing through which we rode, in the centre of the picture, and Iwondered if the battery was "demonstrating" for the benefit of themoving picture photographer when we were passing through. 

In my rides about the country when the battalion was in billets, Iseveral times ran across "Archibald the Archer, " which is the namegiven to an anti-air craft gun which is mounted on a motor truck andis used against the German aeroplanes. "Archibald" is capable offiring to a great height and very rapidly. He can also move about thecountry quite readily. When he starts after a Hun avatick there issomething going on in the sky. I have watched the Germans outwittinghim. Now the aeroplane would dip and glide and circle as the"Archibald" shells broke about him. Watching with a powerful glass onecould see the airship tremble with the explosion of the shell in itsvicinity. "Archibald" does not always get the German observers, but hehastens to make it so hot for them that they cannot observe. Observation cannot be carried on with much accuracy above fivethousand feet, and the ordinary rifle can fire that high. Who namedthe anti-air craft gun "Archibald" no one knows, but the Belgians arecredited with the naming. 

The Belgians are great archers, the sport still surviving in thatcountry. At every village you will find a tall mast which you at firstthink belongs to a wireless station. On examination, however, it willprove to be an archery pole. At the top of a tall pole the target isdrawn up by a rope and pulley, and on holidays the local sportsindulge in shooting at the mark with a long bow. In every farm houseyou will find the long bow and a bunch of arrows. 

The programme for the big battle ran something like this: Everythingbeing in readiness several divisions were to be brought up behind thetrenches at Neuve Chapelle during the night of the ninth and tenth. Next morning at 7. 30 the ball was to open. It was to be a case of"nibbling" as General Joffre calls it. Our guns were to form two zonesof fire. The big guns were to smash the first line of trenches for amile into fragments, while the second line of lighter guns were torain shrapnel on the ground over which supports might come so that thefirst line would be isolated. When the first line was sufficientlyhammered the infantry was to rip the German parapets with rapid riflefire, then a charge with the bayonets across the devil's strip, andonce inside the first lines of parapets bomb throwing parties were tobe told off right and left to clear the trenches. These bombingparties consisted of three or four men with bayonets to lead, andbehind them two or three bomb throwers to throw bombs at the enemyahead of the bayonet men. The leading bayonet men carried a flag whichthey were to plant in the parapets as they passed along so that thesupporting infantry would know not to fire on them. The first line oftrenches was to be consolidated the first day. On the second day thesecond line was to be assaulted and on the third day the third line. In a similar manner everybody knew there was stiff work ahead. Thatevening my battalion was relieved in the trenches by the RoyalMontreal Regiment. When we got back to our quarters we received ordersto "sleep on our arms" that night. That meant in our clothes, with ourbelts and ammunition strapped on, ready to march at a moment's notice. There was a good bed, but it was sleep in your boots for me. The factthat a blighter of a sniper kept firing off three or four rounds ofrapid fire at my headquarters every few minutes, his bullets rattlingon the brick wall close to my window, was not very conducive to sleepor good temper. I vowed that I would make it pretty hot for snipers, and agreed with myself there and then to pay a reward of fifty dollarsfor every sniper captured dead or alive inside our lines. 

The German sniper is really a lineal descendant of the impenitentthief. When I say a sniper I do not mean a sharpshooter who fires intoour lines from the German lines. I mean one of those horriblecreatures that goes about clad in a stolen uniform or the clothes of aFlemish farmer during the day, and at night takes a Leuger automaticpistol and haunts the billets and roads in hope of killing some loneBritish or Canadian soldier or sentry, whose duty calls him abroadduring the night and relieving the dead body of any money or valuablesthat may be on it. Truly this war developed into a form of warfareakin to that between the whites and the North American Indians. 

We suspect a few of the habitants of being snipers and not withoutsome reason. Several of these farmers and small saloon keepers wouldlike to see the Germans win the war so that they could "cash in" onthe German requisitions they hold. It happened in this way: When the"Boches, " as they call the Germans, overran the country last Augustand September, they took all the wine from the saloon keepers andbrewers, and the best horses, cattle and hogs from the farmers. Theypaid for these articles with requisitions or orders on the GermanGovernment, payable after the war if Germany won. We were constantlycoming up against these people that were devastated by the Germans, and when we remarked that the British or French Government would paythe "requisitions" after the war they inform us that they holdrequisitions for 5, 000 or 10, 000 francs given them by the Germans fortheir property. At one place where I was quartered the proprietor hadlost 40, 000 francs worth of stock and wine. He was rather "frosty" tothe British. That is why we suspected some of being snipers, and thereare some cases on record where they were caught red-handed in the act. Our experience had taught us to put a dead line of sentries severalmiles behind the line of trenches, and our vigilance was rewardedbecause the Germans throughout were unable to locate our batteries andwere at sea as to what was taking place behind our lines. On the otherhand our scouts were so bold that they often crept forward at night inspite of the constant firing of flare lights or rockets by the enemyand had looked right into the German trenches. Conversations were ofconstant occurrence. "How is your bloody Ross Rifle?" a hoarse Germanvoice would enquire. "Stick your nose up and see" would go back theprompt reply. 

March 10th was the day set for the beginning of the battle which willgo down in history as the battle of Neuve Chapelle. The village ofNeuve Chapelle was just like every other Franco-Fleming village on thefiring line, a huddle of houses partly unroofed by shell fire, deserted by the populace, and shunned by the soldiers. It had been atone time a smart village of two-storey brick houses with red tiledroofs. It possessed the typical church and graveyard such as are foundin these villages. Almost every second house was a wine or beer salooncalled an "estament. " There were butcher shops, millinery shops andshops where they mended shoes. But the British rush, which in Octoberhad driven back the German lines beyond Armentieres, Aubers andFromelles, had left the Germans in possession of Neuve Chapelle. Theyhad a lot of stout-hearted rogues holding on there who would not letgo, so Neuve Chapelle formed the apex of a salient in the Britishtrenches which weakened our line north so much that later on we had togive up good ground south of Lille in order to straighten andconsolidate along the line of the River Layes for the hard wintercampaign. 

Late in December some one in the War Office thought that we had givenup too much ground about Fromelles and Armentieres, so an attack wasordered which resulted in nothing beyond the killing of a great manyHighlanders, Gordons, Black Watch, Argyles, and virtually destroying aBrigade of Guards. But nothing came of all this, and it is, as Isuppose as Rudyard Kipling would say, "another story. " Yes, and a "tophole" one at that, but it does not come within my province to tell it. 

Now we were going to drive the Germans out of this salient and beginthe spring cleaning up. When we speak of towns and villages, please donot get any idea of distance as in Canada or America in your heads. There is a town or village in Flanders at every cross road. The "townsiter" has not been abroad here selling lots for miles about everyhamlet, so the result is that a town of three or four thousand peoplewill happen at every cross road, all within a diameter of a quarter ofa mile. As for the roads and streets, they follow the game trailshaunted by the cave dwellers and trogdolites a thousand centuries ago. They wind in every direction and are all good. The main roads arecovered with heavy square stones, blocks. Once in a hundred years theFlemish farmer does his road work by turning these blocks over. Theyare called pavč roads. All the other roads are covered with macadammade out of black whinstone that is as hard as iron. This will explainwhy the towns of Armentieres, Fleurbaix, Neuve Chapelle, Aubers, Estaires and Bac St. Maur are all within a radius of five miles ofeach other. Aubers is a short mile from Neuve Chapelle, whileFromelles is only a mile or so from Aubers. The whole British linefrom Ypres to La Bassee is not as far as from Toronto to Hamilton, notforty miles. 

Our brigade had two battalions in the trenches, the Royal MontrealRegiment under Lieut. -Colonel Meighen and the Canadian Scottish underLieut. -Colonel Leckie. The Royal Highlanders of Canada were on theleft of our brigade and we were on the right, and our two battalionswere available as reserves for the British troops on our right thatwere going into action. There was one British Brigade between us andthe section of the line that was to attack. We were not to move tillthis brigade moved. Reveille was sounded early and the battalion fellin by companies shortly after seven. We were ordered to march down tothe Rue De Bois and get out of sight among some farm houses and keepout of sight, which we did. Some of the companies crossed the fieldsscouting along the ditches and hedges. A company marched by the roadCroix Blanche. We found billets at farm houses a few hundred yardseast of the corner of the Rue De Bois and the Fromelles road. Acrossthe road from where I was quartered there was a big straw stack whichthe artillery were using for observation purposes. Behind it CaptainPope of the Third Brigade Staff had established a telephone office ina couple of wheat sheaves of last year's crop. A cup of bad blackcoffee and a hard boiled egg provided me with breakfast. The men madetea and had plenty of food with them. In an emergency of this kind Isaw that they had two day's rations in their haversacks. They alsocarried a hundred and fifty rounds of ammunition in their pouches andtwo bandoliers, each of fifty rounds, slung over their shoulders. Theywould not be short of grub or ammunition if it could be helped. AfterI had finished the coffee I surveyed the barn and found a spot where ahole through the straw thatch gave a good view of what was going on. 

I had a very powerful pair of field binoculars with which I couldcount the chickens in a barnyard five miles off. The battle was aboutto begin. A few of our guns were giving the morning "straffing" asusual. The sun was up and it was a bright clear day. I could see theBritish lines marked by brown sandbags, now hidden by hedges, againshowing across the Rue D'Enfer, but hidden by the houses and church atthe corner called Fauquissart. Beyond that again to my right rear theline crossed the Rue Du Tilleloy and swept on to Neuve Chapelle. Aclump of tall elms here interfered with the view. I could also see theGerman trenches. They were crowned with rows of white sandbags, interspersed with blue bundles that looked like army blankets or bluebed sticks filled with earth. There was not much stirring for themoment. 

Suddenly the guns woke up behind our line. The Canadian eighteens andfive inchers took up the chorus. Back came half a dozen German fortypounder shells bursting in the field on my right. They were miles awayfrom our guns. One by one the British batteries joined in the chorusuntil in less than five minutes over three hundred cannon of everydescription were pouring death and destruction on the German trenches. At first I could see our shells bursting with volumes of green andyellow smoke and blowing up the German parapets. I could see sandbagsflying fifty feet in the air and what looked like men as well. Debrisflew in every direction, and in a few minutes I could see neithersandbags nor parapets. Nothing but the yellow smoke of lyddite andbehind this in the air a ring of fire where the shrapnel were burstingand showering their leaden curtain to keep the enemy's supports fromcoming up. I could see that there was much excitement along theBritish parapets. Men clustered together like bees, and in some placesI could see soldiers climbing up on top of the parapet, waving theirrifles and caps in the air. They were telling the Huns what they weregoing to do to them. They were too far away for me to hear what theirlanguage was, but they were evidently enjoying the punishing theGermans were getting. At 8. 30 o'clock the roar of the guns died awaysuddenly, only to be followed by the most intense musketry fire. Itwas something like the distant sound of Niagara Falls. I never heardanything really like it. This continued for about ten minutes, thendied away. 

A light yellow cloud had settled down over the place where the Germanparapets once were. I could not see through the smoke, as the morepowerful a glass is the more it exaggerates the fog or smoke. I couldhear the loud, sharp detonations of grenades, and I fancied cheers, more detonations and cheers and cries. All this was occurring withinless than a mile of where I was standing. From the detonations Ijudged we were bombing their trenches. The noise died away and ourartillery woke up again and began shelling leisurely in the rear ofthe first line of German entrenchments. Evidently we had won easily. Ihurried down and over to where Captain Pope and several of my officerswere grouped about the telephone. "They have carried the first line oftrenches easily" was the answer he gave to my query as to what hadhappened. "They are going after the second line of trenches rightaway. " I returned to my observation post and once more the guns werehard at it. It was now a little after nine o'clock and the hazethat hung around the German positions made observation difficult. Theguns redoubled their efforts, and at about ten o'clock they stoppedand again the rifle fire followed, if anything, more intense thanbefore. The detonation of bombs, the rifle fire and cries of thecombatants came to my ears distinctly now that our own guns on bothsides and behind us were silent. Again I travelled over to thetelephone station wondering if they had forgotten us, or if we weregoing to have a hand in the game. "The second line is taken" came overthe wire at 10. 30 o'clock. "They are going to attack the third line. "So they were going to force through and make a one-day job of it afterall. That would surely bring us into the fight by the afternoon or thenext day. So my young men would be pleased. 

 [Illustration: FIRST AID IN THE TRENCHES]

I had had a lot of pacifying to do among my officers over the questionof "When are we going to get into this thing?" Major Osborne alwayshad an idea that everybody from General French down was trying to keepthe Canadians from starting a grand parade to Berlin. Lieut. "Fred"Macdonald's question to me would always be, "How long are they goingto keep us at this rotten trench business?" "It's about time we gotinto a mix-up. Look at the Princess Pats what they have done! Theymust be afraid to use us, " etc. , etc. I would gently chide him and saythat we were on the lap of the gods, in other words sitting on ourGeneral's knees, and Mac would look as if I were a partner in a deeplaid conspiracy to keep the regiment from being covered with glory. 

When we last went into the trenches Captains Alexander and Cory had totake the line nearest the Germans. They were only eighty yards awayand the parapets were as thin as bargain day wall paper. Lots had beencast, and McGregor had won the reserved position and Alexander the hotcorner. I ventured to remark to Alexander that I was sorry that hisluck had put him in a dangerous place, and that he should have histurn next in reserve. I did not get far with this speech when hesnapped back quietly and firmly, "The post of danger is the post ofhonour. " As for Cory and Jones, I had to threaten them with acourt-martial if they did not stop hopping on the parapets in fullview of the Germans both day and night. 

They were all feeling happy to-day, even grim Captain MacLaren waswearing a broad smile. As for McKessock, well his ancestors followedBruce from Kilmarnock to Ireland. There is no need for furthercomment. He had the machine guns well cleaned and the cartridges inthe belts polished like front door knobs so they wouldn't jam. 

After hearing that the third line was to be attacked I hurried back tomy post. The artillery had stopped firing for a while to let the hazeand smoke clear away so they could observe, but it still hung heavyover the German lines. 

Shortly after eleven o'clock the artillery started in again. Most ofthe Canadian guns seemed to be firing at Aubers, and if there were anyGermans in that town they must have suffered. For nearly an hour thebombardment of the third line continued. Then followed a longerinterval of rifle fire and then the bombs; shouting and rifle firedied away shortly after one o'clock. At about half past one I couldsee khaki figures in kilts in the outskirts of Aubers. They seemed tobe strolling around looking for something to do. When I went to thetelephone I learned that the third and last line of the Germantrenches had been taken and the battle had been won. What a place towin a victory over the same Germans that for two thousand years havebeen crossing the Rhine and invading Flanders, only to be defeated anddriven back again as the Germans of to-day will be driven back. History will surely repeat itself. What is the use of these invasions, these fierce raids by the Germans? Nothing but the loss of thousandsupon thousands of lives. Every acre of the ground we were fighting onhas been watered with the blood of German and Fleming long ago. Wewere only repeating the centuries' old feud. 

All afternoon we waited patiently, expecting that in the pursuit thatwould follow our battalions would be echeloned through the gap made, but not a word came. We returned at night to our billets and werewarned again to be on the _Qui vive_. 

Thursday, March 11th, was slightly hazy and we were kept in readinessall day, but no new developments followed. Something must havehappened, lack of ammunition, or something of that kind. My officerswere worrying me all day wondering if the grand advance had gone onand we were left behind. I could give no explanation. It is asoldier's duty to wait and do as he is told. The impression prevailedfor the moment that the terrible tales they told about us in Englandhad followed us to Flanders and that General French was afraid totrust the First Canadian Division. In the evening we were notifiedthat hot baths would be ready for the men and a change of clothing atSailly next day. That meant that we would not take part in anyadvance, at least for the moment. 

On March 12th, in the morning, accompanied by Dr. MacKenzie andLieutenant Dansereau, I set out for Estaires. We were told before weleft that the Canadian troops would not be required that day. Thebattle orders given to me confidentially by Colonel Hughes burnt holesin my pocket, but we would not need them yet. On the way we found alot of cannonading going on, and as we came to Estaires we met longlines of ambulances coming in from the front with the wounded. Therewere Guardsmen, Indian troops and Highlanders. At first we thoughtthey were the wounded picked up on the battle field on the 10th ofMarch. In Estaires from some of the slightly wounded we learned thevastly important information that another big attack was on and thatthe British troops were making very little headway, and were havingterrible losses. The artillery were not doing much, and the infantrywere getting the worst of it. The German corps army had been broughtup. 

From a wounded Highland sergeant we learned that on the 10th thethree lines of German trenches had been carried as stated. The Britishtroops were in the environs of Aubers and along the Rue D'Enfer. TheGermans were apparently in full retreat and our losses were only aboutfive per cent, of the men engaged. The troops in the first line, victorious, were eager to go on, but they were halted on the westernoutskirts of Aubers all afternoon and then told to dig themselves in. Next day they were for some reason ordered back to the third line ofGerman trenches and told to prepare these trenches, strengthening andconsolidating the lines and to prepare for a German attack which didnot come. To-day being the third day they were ordered to carryAubers, the Rue D'Enfer and the ground extending to the Wood of Biez. In these places a terrible resistance had been encountered. TheGermans Corps Reserves, several divisions of them, had arrived. Theyhad fortified Aubers by using the lower or basement storeys of housesfor machine gun emplacements, and a large redoubt with wire had beenconstructed in the woods. 

The commanding officers of both the battalions of the Gordons had beenkilled, also Colonel Fisher-Rowe of the Guards, who had turned thetrenches at Fromelles over to us, was killed leading his battalion ina charge. The Gordons had lost sixteen officers from each battalion, killed and wounded, and about half their men. The Guards Brigade hadlost about the same. Again and again the unconquerable Britishinfantry this day charged across the open to carry ground that wasvirtually theirs two days before, but the Bois de Biez and the RueD'Enfer bristled with machine guns that mowed them down in hundreds. Guards, Ghurkas, Highlanders, Pathans charged again and again till atlast towards evening the attack was called off. The German counterattack had taken the form of a pure defensive and we had sacrificedten or twelve thousand troops trying to retrieve what we lost throughlack of support two days before. There was no truth in the storiessubsequently circulated that our guns fired in mistake on the Britishtroops. A few Indian guns that had been worn out with constant firingsince the Battle of Mons fired stray shells but that is likely tohappen at any time. An error of a line or two on the indicating ringof the fuse when set will cause the shell to burst short. 

The Battle of Neuve Chapelle was a great victory for the British, butwe did not gather much of the fruits of victory. Everybody felt thatsomething had gone wrong, but what it was only history will disclose. Our younger officers were beginning to think that the old Wellingtontradition of "support promptly" had been forgotten in the army ofFlanders. 

Over eight hundred German prisoners fell into our hands. They weremostly Bavarians and Saxons. They were in the bombed trenches and hadhad a very hard time from our shell fire. Their clothing, hands andfaces were stained yellow from the lyddite fumes. I saw these men at afactory at Estaires where they were held. A number of them spokeEnglish. I also saw them on the street as they were being conducted bya French reserve officer and guarded by French reserve troops. Theywere a mixture of young boys and middle-aged men, well fed and wellclothed, and it did not appear as if it was costing the GermanGovernment much effort to look after them. Like all Germans they hadlet their beards grow which made them look like "Weary Willies. " Froman intellectual standpoint they did not seem to be overburdened withbrains. "Blond beasts" they would be nicknamed in the London musichalls. We used to wonder why the German helmets would not fit us, theywere so small. After seeing these men we knew. A number six to six andone-half hat would fit any of these chaps. 

CHAPTER XVIII

BILLETS AND BIVOUACS

A terrible disaster happened the regiment on March 23rd. Our adjutant, Captain R. Clifford Darling, was wounded. This is how it happened: Anartillery lieutenant was with us constantly in the trenches asobserving officer. Sometimes it was Lieutenant Lancaster, son of anold colleague of mine, E. A. Lancaster, Member of Parliament forWelland, Canada. Sometimes it was Lieutenant Ryerson, son ofSurgeon-General Ryerson, another friend of many years standing. Thismorning a young English artillery officer came along and said hewanted to be shown the German trenches and anything else that could beseen from our section. It was about noon, and Captain Darling insistedupon going down to the trenches with him. As I wanted to go over thetrenches myself and see how some work was progressing on our rightsector, I asked the adjutant to stay at headquarters till I returned. We got as far as the corner of the Rue Pettion and the Fromelles Roadwhen we proceeded to climb up on the roof of a ruined house to have alook at the trenches. I had with me a panoramic sketch of the trencheswhich had been made by an English officer at Christmas during the timethe British and Germans fraternized, for this was one of the placeswhere there had been a truce for a few hours and Briton and Hun forgottheir grudges. The various villages and farms were pointed out. Aubersand Fromelles, with their ruined towers, the Bois du Biez, AubersRidge and other objects on the landscape. In front of us there was apartially erected factory of some kind. We suspected that itsblinking, unglazed windows harboured machine guns, and I ferventlyurged him to try out his guns on this building as soon as he got themin position. 

After we had feasted our eyes on the German lines we climbed down, andno sooner had we reached the ground than we were met by CaptainDarling, who said he had a message for Captain Perry, who was in asmall redoubt on our extreme left, and whose telephone wire had beencut some time before by a German bullet. We all walked down a zigzagcommunication trench which led to the centre of our trenches. As wewalked along I warned Darling to be very careful and not to take theshort cut back to our quarters, but to join me at the communicationtrench and we would come out together. We turned to the right and Ishowed the visitor over our right section. While I was doing so amessage came to me over the wires from brigade headquarters, asking meto go there for a consultation with General Turner. I turned back andstarted for brigade headquarters, which were about a mile back of theline. When I got there Colonel Garnet Hughes informed me he had heardby 'phone that Captain Darling had been wounded while he was on hisway out from the trenches. 

After receiving my orders from headquarters I hurried to my ownquarters to see what had happened to our adjutant. I met MajorMacKenzie, our medical officer, as soon as I entered the house, and hewas very much cut up over Darling. The three of us, with CaptainDansereau, had messed together under shell and rifle fire so long thatwe had become very much attached. Darling was an ideal adjutant, afearless rider and a splendid comrade. He coupled with a graduate'scourse at the Royal Military College, a thorough training as anaccountant and business manager. The "Red Watch" was sad that day, forhe was universally admired by everybody. He had been returning afterdelivering a message to Captain Perry that he was to get ready to goto Ypres to assist the British forces there in some mining operationsat Hill 60. On his way back he met several officers who insisted ontaking the short cut. They had to run across a short space of aboutfifty feet to get into a ditch which saved a walk through the trenchesof several hundred yards. 

In a moment of weakness, having learned that I had been called fromthe trenches and would not be waiting for him at the communicationtrench, he gave in and took the short cut. The Germans, who werealways on the alert at this point, and only about one hundred yardsaway, let drive a volley, and a bullet caught him in the back underthe right shoulder blade. As he was stooping it penetrated his bodyand came out above the right collar bone. The wound was a clean oneand bled very little. The bullet had not pierced his lung. He wasresting quietly when I saw him. He had very little pain, was quitecheerful and told me he would be back to duty in a few weeks. He hadleft a youthful bride behind him in London and was anxious to joinher, so I gave orders that he was to be sent as quickly as possible toEngland. General Turner seconded me in this, but he was kept in Francea week after he was wounded, the reason given being that they wantedto make sure that the bullet had not penetrated the lung cavity. 

I immediately offered the vacant adjutancy to Captain Warren, but hedeclined it, saying that he now had the cares of a company on hisshoulders and was taking a great deal of enjoyment out of it. Isympathized with him, for I knew his men would miss him very much forhe was an ideal company officer. Captain Dansereau, who had been myscoutmaster and signalling officer, and who had learned all thetopography of that part of France on his hands and knees at night, laying wires and hunting broken ones, consented to take over the job. We took on Lieutenant Hamilton Shoenberger as signalling officer. "Shon, " as he was affectionately called by his comrades, and Dansereauwere graduates of the Royal Military College. Captain McLaren raised astorm when I asked for Shoenberger, but when I pointed out thatDarling expected to be back in a month or so he consented. 

The men took all the fun there was in life out of things when theywere back in billets. They fed, slept and played football, and had agood time generally while they were resting. Beyond furnishingfatigues for the engineers, a few hours' physical drill or a march, they had very little work to do. 

The motto of the Canadian Engineers is, "We never sleep. " They werevery keen and ardent and were constantly working to strengthen thetrenches. Major Wright of Hull, who was at the head of our section, was a very big man, about six feet four in his stockings, with a widthof chest and shoulder that is found nowhere in the world soplentifully as in the valley of the Ottawa River and in Canada'sGlengarry County. His towering form would loom up everywhere in thetrenches at night, and along with him generally came young Pepler, another intrepid youngster, who was never quite at home unless he wasin the most dangerous spot in the trenches, or out in front examiningthe German wire at close range. Wright was a born leader of men, andanother of his staff whose light burned brightly was Captain ThomasIrving of Toronto. The exact opposite of Wright, they reminded mealways of the two great warriors in Sienkiewicz's "With Fire andSword. " All the engineers were men of technical training and muchexperience. They were right at home in Flanders, and deserved thetributes that we heard tendered them by the British General Staff. Their confidence in the practical experience of the Canadians wasdemonstrated by their sending to us for a practical mining man todirect the big mining operations south of Ypres. 

One of the happiest features of billet life was the receiving andwriting of letters to friends at home. Pen and ink were plentiful, sowas paper, and most of the spare time of the men was spent in writingletters to friends. All these letters had to be censored, and thecensor was not Lord Kitchener, as some people seem to think, nor SirJohn French, as the London papers would have it, but the colonel ofeach regiment. He is the heartless man who has to wade through reamsof love letters, and he never even drops a tear when he finds one ofhis young men corresponding with two or more young ladies at home, andassuring each of them in the most fervent and fond language that heloves but her and her alone. Sometimes the commanding officer is sobusy that the labor of censoring the letters is turned over to ajunior subaltern who may happen to be handy. The letters are broughtin to headquarters and left unsealed. They are supposed to be read bythe colonel, closed and his name written across the front pagevouching for the contents. On one occasion one of my platooncommanders brought into the orderly room a very large bundle ofletters. His men had been very busy with their pens that morning, andhe made some remark to that effect to me. At the moment I was verybusy writing letters to irate mothers who would write to me whenevertheir sons neglected to provide a weekly batch of correspondence, so Itold the young officer to take my stamp and censor the lettershimself. When he had gone about half way through the correspondence, he gave an exclamation, jumping half way out of his chair. "What's thematter?" I asked in alarm, wondering if he had caught one of his menin treasonable correspondence with the enemy. 

"The matter, " he said in a tone of rage, "Why, one of the men in myplatoon is writing love letters to my best girl in Toronto. "

I advised him to let the letter go through and leave the settlement ofthe matter until after the war. Such a situation would in ordinarytimes have provided a theme for a three-volume love story. 

After the battle of Neuve Chapelle, the Seventh Division, comprisingthe Gordon and Guards Brigade, moved to our right. They were badlybattered but still in the ring. The first night they were in thetrenches on our right they would occasionally open up with theirMaxims, and the scare they would give the Germans was a sight worthseeing. The German flares would go up, and the Huns "stood to" andblazed away like mad. Out of some 800 men in the second battalion ofthe Gordons only about 350 came out uninjured from Neuve Chapelle. Only about thirty of the original battalion that fought on the retreatfrom Mons remained in the ranks. In the afternoon the day after theycame alongside of us, my adjutant, Dansereau, and I paid them a visit. There were only six officers left in their mess, but they werecheerful nevertheless. 

After another turn in the trenches we were moved back to Estaires andplaced in billets. We were given to understand that we would soon begiven a chance at the Rue D'Enfer, and so we began to train for it. Dummy trenches were fitted up and our bombing parties practised daily. The men were turned loose with their entrenching tools and practised"digging in" every day. 

While here another serious casualty occurred. On the evening ofSaturday, March 27th, Sergeant Rose and Piper Miller were returningwith several comrades from Estaires. They were passing one of ourbillets when a sentry challenged them. Miller was playing the pipes, and there was a high wind blowing at the time and they did not hearthe challenge. The night was dark and the sentry who misunderstood hisorders fired and brought down both men with one shot. Rose was shotthrough the hips and Miller across the back. They were both veryseverely wounded and the sentry was at once imprisoned. Rose was avery fine young man, having risen rapidly from the ranks to bequartermaster sergeant. He was an ideal soldier. Miller was a splendidpiper, a Lowland Scotchman with a Glasgow accent that convulsedeveryone who heard him. He took great delight in using the dialect ofBobby Burns in its purest form, and could get his tongue around "Its abraw bricht moonlit nicht the nicht" like Harry Lauder. Dr. MacKenziewas quickly brought and did what he could to alleviate the sufferingsof the two men. Rose received a wound large enough to insert your twofingers into it but did not bleed very badly. Miller had his ribssmashed at the back and bled internally. He had to lie on his faceand groaned a good deal. Rose, like all the Canadians that I haveseen wounded, never uttered a sound. 

On March 31st General Turner took Colonel Loomis and me along with himto Laventie to reconnoitre the ground about the Rue D'Enfer. I wasagain told in confidence that the Canadian Division was expected toframe up an attack on this justly named road. We rode to Laventie andwalked down to what was left of the village of Fauquissart. Laventiewas deserted except for the troops, but the village with theeuphonious name, which stood at one time at the corner of the RueD'Enfer and the Rue de Bois, was nothing but a heap of bricks. When weapproached, the Germans were busy throwing coal boxes at the churchtower, or what was left of it. They generally like to leave a bit of achurch tower or gable standing, for as nearly as I could follow theirgunnery they used these points to "clock on, " that is to say, a ruinedsteeple will be the centre of the clock. The observer will then directthe guns something like this, "Aubers Church, one o'clock, fivehundred yards. " The above directions would mean to fire from thechurch tower as the centre, five hundred yards towards one o'clockfrom the tower. Our gunners use a different system. 

We got into the village without any casualties, and I climbed into aruined house and had a look through the tiles of the roof at theGerman lines and made a panoramic sketch. Then we went down into thetrenches and met the "Yorks. " They told us that we were to do theattacking and they were to do the looking on and cheering. Theyappeared to be pleased that it was not the other way on. 

On the way out General Turner, V. C. , had a narrow escape. He missed acommunicating trench and started with Colonel Loomis across an openspot about two hundred yards from the German lines. He was spotted andseveral volleys sent after him. The General is a very brave man, and Iwas always afraid he would be hit. We went back and arranged forworking parties to make more supporting trenches to hold troops forthe assault. 

I made Lieutenant Dansereau my acting adjutant. He was my scout masterand signalling officer, and when I went into the trenches either he orone of the other young rascals would step up smartly and start aconversation when I was passing a dangerous spot. I noticed that theseescorts always got between me and the German lines so that if a bulletcame they would get it first. This touched me very deeply but I madethem stop it. No commanding officer was ever served more devotedly byhis officers than I have been. My acting adjutant was Scotch on hisdistaff side, a descendant of Colonel Mackay, who climbed the Heightsof Abraham with the immortal Wolfe. His father was one of the ablestmen in the public life of the Province of Quebec. Young Dansereau knewno fear and would as soon go out in daylight and cut the Germans'wires as eat his breakfast. He was a graduate of the Royal MilitaryCollege and a splendid soldier and engineer. I had offered theposition to Captain Trumbull Warren, but he declined it, as he wassecond in command with Major Osborne and he said he wanted "company"experience, how to handle men and to get to know them and learn howthe military machine was worked. The real reason he stayed with hiscompany was because he was so devoted to his men. He had formed tieswhich he did not like to break. Every man in the company thought hewas the greatest company officer in the division, and I thought sotoo. 

CHAPTER XIX

WITH GENERAL SIR HORACE SMITH-DORRIEN

The battalion paraded early on April 7th and once more we were on themarch. We were working north and were to go into billets near Cassel. The intended attack on the Rue D'Enfer never took place. It was onlyan April fool joke. 

We did the twenty mile march to Cassel in heavy marching order in goodstyle and got into our new quarters at four in the afternoon. We wereto have a week's rest there. Then we were to take over a piece oftrench east of Ypres from the French so that the British line wouldextend between the Belgians and the French. As it stood, we were inthe French line. Our billets at Cassel were excellent. We were in theSecond Army under Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien. 

The battalion paraded on April 10th at 9. 15 and marched off to Casselto be reviewed by General Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien. The city of Casselis situated on one of two sugar loaf hills that rise about a thousandfeet above the adjoining plain. There is a wall around the city and itis now strongly garrisoned by French troops. From the summit of thecastle you can, on a clear day, see Dixmude, Calais and the sea. Youcan also view Ypres, Armentieres and many other towns and villages. The city was not taken by the Germans in their rush last fall. Thehills around Cassel are rich in historical associations, dating backto the Roman period. There is still shown the remains of one ofCęsar's Camps, and underneath its walls William the Silent of Orangefought one of his most notable battles. 

For review our brigade was drawn up in a field below the city walls. This field was in the form of an amphitheatre and the troops lookedsplendid in the bright spring sunshine. 

General Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien did not keep us waiting long. Wepresented arms, and he went over each platoon most carefully. While hewas inspecting one battalion, the others rolled in the grass orenjoyed themselves by tossing bits of turf at the tame pheasants thatgazed on the soldiers in wonder from the hedges surrounding theenclosure. The General reviewed the 48th and expressed much admirationfor the fine physique and soldierly bearing of the men. He said it wasa pity that such fine men should be taken from their homes and sent towar, but he was sure they would give a good account of themselves. 

When the review was over the General called the officers andnon-commissioned officers together and told them that he had neverseen a steadier or finer body of troops; that we would soon have somestiff work to do and he knew we would do it, but that he consideredthe war would be over in a year. He told us that when the Canadianscame to France they had been preceded by rumors that questioned theirdrill and discipline, and that the British doubted their soldierlyqualities. They were, however, much surprised to find that theCanadians were most excellent soldiers, that they were as highlytrained as any British soldier who had come to France, that theirdiscipline could not be questioned, and that their behavior in thetrenches had been splendid. The British generals at first thought theCanadian technical troops, such as the artillery and the engineers, might lack skill. They found that the artillery knew their business aswell as the best British artillery, that the engineers were superiorin many ways and that now every corps commander wanted the Canadians. 

General Smith-Dorrien, at the conclusion of the review, called the mentogether and addressed them in a similar strain, and then we wereordered to march our battalions off to their billets. 

It was a great pleasure to hear a few words of commendation from sucha great soldier as General Smith-Dorrien, for the first CanadianDivision had been greatly lied about and maligned in England. Everyoffence on the calendar had been charged against it, and one wouldhave thought, instead of being composed as it was of young, welleducated and well-behaved men, it was the off-scourings of theCanadian prisons and jails. 

If we were well drilled we owed it all to ourselves. We went toEngland filled with high hopes that we were to be associated withBritish Regulars and to have the best of British instruction. We weredisappointed from the first. No British troops were associated withus. We had to work out our own salvation. 

But the Canadian officers were a self-reliant lot, so the drillmanuals were conned carefully and the men were exercised in a soundsystem that made the companies great self-confident fighting machines. Every officer was on his metal and worked hard to bring his men toperfection in spite of mud and rain and all sorts of difficultiesworse than we ever encountered in Flanders. 

Comparisons are odious, but experience has shown that the Canadianofficer, on the whole, is equal to any officer in the British army. His Majesty graciously ordered that we were to be classed as "regularImperial officers. " We had to line up to that standard. 

The present war is altogether unlike previous experiences in theBritish army. "Forget South Africa" became a byword. The numbers areso great and the ground so restricted that new conditions have arisen. The Canadians quickly assimilated the new conditions. 

On the morning of April 15th the battalion paraded at its billets atRyveld and marched to Beauvoorde. This hamlet consisted of a couple ofstores and a saloon. The men were quartered on farms. On one side ofthe road is Belgium, the other side is France. I was quartered in theestament or saloon, and the landlady told me that in the room in whichI slept a German Prince Este had slept the night before he was killedby the British near Caestre. This was very cheerful news, and I amthankful I did not have his luck. 

 [Illustration: TRENCHES AT NEUVE CHAPELLE]

The night before we marched we chopped down a tree at my headquartersand had a bone-fire and singsong. The Germans east of Ypres must havethought Cassel was on fire. The tree was an old dead one and burntbeautifully, but next day the owner put in a demand for one hundredfrancs. I agreed to settle for twenty francs cash, or a requisitionfor one hundred francs. The shrewd old Fleming chose the gold. We hadthe worth of the money. 

Early the next morning the battalion paraded again and marched toAbeele, where thirty-eight motor busses that had been brought overfrom England carried the men with their kits to the eastern outlet ofPoperinghe, where we alighted and marched down the famous road toYpres along which thousands of Canadians marched never to return. 

We crossed a stone bridge over the Yperlee Canal, passed by a largebasin for ships with docks and warehouses, and found our billets inthe north section of the city. My billet was at an old gas works bythe railway and the house, which was a modern brick, had previouslybeen shelled, as a large hole through the wall and floor of the parlorshowed. The chimney of the old gas plant made an excellent mark. Theman of the house, his wife and nine children, were living in thehouse. I took the front dining room as an office, put the telephonesup in the back parlor and took down the half inch steel plates thatwere over the windows to keep out the shrapnel and let in the light ofday. 

It is wonderful what fatalists we become in the trenches. This war isnot like any other modern war. In previous wars if a man was underfire once a month he was doing well. Here on the western front ofFlanders in the British section if he gets out of rifle and shell fireone day in a month he is doing well. 

The effect upon the men is very evident. They sobered up as it were. They were very happy and cheerful, but every man that goes in thetrenches soon makes his peace, with past, present and future. TheProtestants attend service every time they get a chance. There was agreat service in Estaires before we left for Cassel and every manattended. The Roman Catholics attend Mass regularly and there is verylittle attention paid to politics. At home in Canada they were warringin Parliament over giving the soldiers the vote. In the trenches noone cared. What did it matter to a man who was appointed pound-keeperor member of Parliament, at home in Canada, if to-morrow a shellshould take his own head off. The petty affairs and jealousies thataffect politicians at home and give them spasms and sleepless nightsdo not interest the man who sleeps on his arms in a dugout with thethunder of cannon shaking down the clay on his face. Religiouscontroversies are also forgotten. The men of this war are not inspiredwith religious enthusiasm like the men of Cromwell's time or theJapanese and Russians. There is religion of a deeper kind. The Bibleis constantly in evidence. The Protestant and the Roman Catholic sleepside by side in the consecrated ground of Flanders. Both deserve thebrightest and best Heaven there is, for they were all heroes and gavetheir lives for the cause of justice and humanity. In the church yardat Estaires, close by the wonderful church steeple which no Germanshell had so far been able to find, they buried the dead heroes ofNeuve Chapelle in long trenches, three and four deep, with theofficers who fell at the head of the mounds. In the corner of everyfarmyard and orchard you will find crosses marking graves, black forthe Germans, and white for our soldiers. 

In the presence of constant death, of wounds and anguish, it iswonderful the spirit that pervaded our men. They were reconciled withdeath and, often when I took a wounded Canadian by the hand andexpressed regret that he was hurt and suffering the answer always was, "Its all right, Colonel, that's what I came here for. " We all realizedwhat we were fighting for, and the destruction wrought upon the poorBelgians has been so great that we all felt if we had a hundred liveswe would cheerfully give them to rescue stricken Belgium and aid braveunconquerable France. 

The Canadians that survive this war and return home will have a higherviewpoint, and there will be very few reckless drunken men among them. The "rough-neck" swearing soldier has found no place in this war. 

With our brigade was Canon Scott of Quebec, an Anglican clergyman witha stout heart and a turn for poetry. He never tired of going about thebillets among the men. There was no braver man in the division and hisinfluence was splendid. Everybody loved him, and he was an ornament tothe church to which he belonged. He reminded us often of the oldfighting Crusaders. 

On the evening of our arrival at Ypres I visited the Cloth Square ashort distance away, and reviewed the ruins of the fine Gothicbuilding known as Cloth Hall. This building was one of the glories ofFlanders. In every niche over its hundreds of pointed windows therewas a full-sized statue of some noted Count of Flanders and his wife. But the place was one great ruin, the inside having been blown out, and now it is turned into an horse stable. The town itself wasresuming some of its wonted activity and workmen were busy mending thescars of war in the tiles and brick of the houses of the city. 

Ypres was, in days gone by, the capital of Old Flanders. Within itswalls there was an Irish convent, and in this convent was shown one ofthe few colors ever taken from a British regiment. Clare's IrishRegiment in the service of France, it is said, took this flag at theBattle of Fontenoy. 

We were now among the Flemings proper, and they are a fine race oftall people, some with light brown eyes and flaxen hair, a rather oddcombination. They are very clean and very friendly, worthy descendantsof the warlike Belgae. They worship King Albert, who they say is thegreatest warrior and king that Belgium has ever seen. The Belgians ofto-day will not rank him second to even Claudius Civilis, thecompanion of the Roman Emperor Vespasian, nor to any of those heroesof Tacitus, who took up arms for Belgian liberty against the Romans, nor yet to Charlemagne, the great conqueror of Middle Europe. 

We were to garrison Ypres for four days, and then we were to take overthe piece of trench occupied by another battalion in our brigade, theCanadian Scottish. Our position in the line was the extreme point ofthe great salient of Ypres that has been held so valiantly for monthsby the British, French and Belgians. 

CHAPTER XX

THE HISTORIC SALIENT AT YPRES

On April 17th we received orders not to gather in groups on the streetif hostile aircraft were seen, and also that officers were to keepclose to their billets. Three of my companies were moved out to farmsin the outskirts. They had been billetted in a big factory, and if ashell had come in many would have been killed. I went out to seeBrigadier-General Turner at noon. His headquarters were located at alarge farm northwest of St. Julien. I found General Alderson andseveral of his staff there, and the matter of the defence of theCanadian line was discussed. From this point with my field glasses Icould get a good view of the greater part of the salient at Ypres. 

Let me here explain the line of the salient of Ypres held by us. Southof Ypres, about four miles away, at St. Eloi, the opposing trenchesran straight south of Armentieres, a city named after Thomas deArmentieres, envoy of Flanders to Philip of Spain of Armada fame. FromSt. Eloi the German line was bent northeast running to what is calledHill 60, and from there northeast past Chateau Hooge to the village ofZonnebeke. From there the line ran almost north across Gravenstafelridge to where Stroombeek Creek crossed the road from St. Julien toPoelcappelle, thence the line ran northwest past Langemarck toBixschoote, on the Yperlee Canal which runs northwesterly. The Britishheld the southern face of the salient as far east as Zonnebeke. TheCanadian Division replaced a French division on the extreme toe alongStroombeek brook almost to Langemarck. From there on to Bixschoote twoFrench divisions were garrisoning the northern face until they came intouch with the Belgians. 

Roughly speaking the whole British front from north to south on thewhole Flemish frontier is only about forty miles. All the Ypressalient is historic ground and every foot is rich in sentiment. Everyfarmhouse, every field bore the scars of war, --the houses and barnswith their broken tiles, the fields with almost every hundred feet, a"crump" hole where a shell had fallen and exploded! Some of theseholes were ten feet deep and thirty feet across. Life was cheap inthis great salient and the Canadians were given "the post of danger, the post of honour. "

There was no strategical reason why this salient should be held so fareast of Ypres. If we kept our artillery west of the canal where theycould not be enfiladed, the shells would not reach where the Canadianbattalions were holding the trenches six miles away. If the guns werebrought into the salient they could be bombarded by German artilleryfrom each flank as well as the front. If the infantry line was brokenat any point the whole would be compromised. There was the danger alsoof the canal in the rear with only a few pontoon bridges. The canalwould be filled with our guns and dead. Very few of our men couldescape. There were no troops but ours and the French on the leftbetween us and Calais. Two weeks after the Battle of St. Julien thesalient was flattened to conform with sound strategy. 

The weather had been very fine and it was a bright clear day withclouds scudding across the sky, such as we see in Flemish pictures. Everywhere tall lines of elms and stubs of pollard willows filled thelandscape. The cattle were grazing in the field and everything lookedvery peaceful. The larks were soaring and singing on high. Every nowand then a muffled roar alone told us that there was war. Somewherealong the horizon to the south I could see the famous Hill 60, andeast of it the Zillebeke ridge where, on October 31st, Moussey'sCorps, with a division of the French Ninth Corps, made a great standagainst the Germans and foiled their attack by calling in the cooksand transport men and dismounting their cavalry. There again in theevening of November 6th our Household Brigade under Kavanagh savedthe situation that cost the British Blues and Second Life Guards theircommanders. Along the same ridge towards Gheluvelt Cawford's Brigadecame out of action reduced to its brigadier, five officers and sevenhundred men. 

A little to the north, on the afternoon of October 31st, theWorcesters made a famous stand, and on November 10th the PrussianGuard was wiped out by the Black Watch on the same spot. They tell howGeneral French told the Black Watch that they had many famous honorson their colors that told of many glorious days, but that the greatestday in the history of the Black Watch was that on which they met theJäger Regiment of the Prussian Guard and the Jägers ceased to exist asa unit. 

Every little farm was dotted with graveyards where the British andFrench had buried their dead. On the way back to Ypres, Major Marshalland I took a short cut across the fields and ran into a battery of 4. 7British guns, Territorials. When they saw us coming they loosened upfor our special benefit, and the first thing we knew the answer cameback in the form of a heavy German shell that came within a fewhundred yards of the British batteries. 

That evening the British blew up Hill 60. Captain Frank Perry had beentold off to assist the British engineering officers in this work. Theexplosion was followed by a most terrific cannonade and rifle firewhich continued all night. This was a hot corner. During the night myslumbers were disturbed with the whistling of German high explosiveshells in our vicinity. 

On Sunday, April 18th, Canon Scott preached a sermon to the men. During the day several shells burst in the town and some of them notfar from our billets. The inhabitants had begun to flee. 

About eleven o'clock at night Canon Scott wandered into my billets. Hehad been holding service with the men and had lost his way. I wasafraid he would get killed or drowned. He was so zealous, and such acharming character, he made an ideal chaplain. No hour was too late, no road too long for him. His son was wounded with another corps andwould lose his eye. 

Early in the morning Sergeant Miller of the headquarters staff calledme to witness a duel between a German and a British aviator. It was abeautiful bright morning, with not a breath of air stirring and not acloud in the sky. Away to the north the two aviators were at it, circling about each other like great hawks. The British aviator wasthe smarter of the two, and he finally got the Hun, whose machinestarted for the earth nose down at a terrific speed. Both of theGerman air men were killed we learned later. It was certainly athrilling sight. 

The next day, the 19th, more shells were thrown into the town. Oneshell fell into the billet where Lieutenant Frank Gibson wasquartered. It killed an old man, his wife and daughter, a beautifulgirl of seventeen. The back of her head was blown off. LieutenantGibson got a splinter of shell in the calf of the leg and had to besent to the hospital to have it cut out. The Germans continuedshelling the town all day. When they get beaten they always startshelling the nearby towns and work their spite off on the inhabitants. The blowing up of Hill 60 seemed to have stirred them to anextraordinary degree. Towards dusk I went down the Menin road to watchthe bombardment. Some of our batteries, hidden in the hedges away onmy right, were sending shrapnel across the German lines beyond Hill60. I could watch the flight of the projectile and its bursting in asheet of flame over the enemy's line. The opposing guns were hard atit, while away in the distance the rapid rattle of rifle fire told ofthe tragedies that were being enacted near the crater that CaptainPerry had blown in Hill 60. Away to the south a momentary flash likesheet lightning on an autumn evening would light the horizon with abaleful gleam, and after a long interval the muffled roar of a"Grandma" would mingle with the twang of the bursting shrapnel. Trulyas one British Tommy, who watched the battle, said, "Hell was letloose that night. " As I returned to my billets along the ancient moatthat at one time defended the city, shells passed over my head and adozen or so aimed no doubt at the tall chimney of the ancient magazinede gaz fell within a few yards of my quarters. 

On the evening of April 20th we were to take up the line of trenchesheld by the Sixteenth. The Germans still continued to shell Ypres, (which is pronounced Ep-r-r, E as in fee, two syllable r-r, the Rsounded the Scotch way with a burr aspirate). 

Shortly after luncheon Captain Warren and Lieutenant Macdonald came tothe orderly room to ask some questions about the order in which wewere to march into the trenches. An officer from each company had goneinto these trenches the night before and looked them carefully over. The left section was given to Captain Osborne, the right to CaptainMcGregor and the centre to Captain MacLaren. The position consisted ofseventeen half moon redoubts and they were not at all strong. CaptainAlexander's company was to be in reserve with headquarters at St. Julien. As the officers had received orders not to go away from theirbilleting area, and had to receive permission to do so, both Warrenand Macdonald asked me if they could go up to the Cloth Square to buysome comforts to take down into the trenches for the men. I gave myconsent, but warned them to be careful and take cover from any shellsthat came along. About ten minutes later Lieutenant Macdonald arrivedback breathless. He asked quite coolly, "Where is Major MacKenzie?Trum's hit with a piece of shell. "

I immediately called the major, who was in the next room, and welearned that "Trum, " as Captain Warren was affectionately called, hadbeen badly wounded. He and Macdonald were standing in a grocery storeat the north side of the square when a "Jack Johnson, " as the hugeseventeen inch shells fired by the Germans from the Austrian howitzersthey have brought up to shell this town are called, fell into abuilding in the south side just opposite. The shell wrecked thebuilding into which it fell, killing an officer and seventeen men. Apiece about an inch square flew fully two hundred yards across thesquare, passed through a plate glass window, missed Macdonald by aninch, and struck Warren below the right collar bone piercing his lung. "They have got me in the back, Fred, " were the last words he said. Hewas carried on a stretcher to the hospital a few hundred yards away, and the surgeon made an examination of his injury, cutting hisclothing away. In a moment we saw there was no hope for him. It wasonly a matter of a few minutes. Canon Scott heard that he had beeninjured and hurried to the hospital. He had only time to repeat theprayer for the dying as poor Warren passed away in Major MacKenzie'sarms. His death was a great loss to the regiment. 

 [Illustration: Map of the BATTLE OF ST JULIAN April 22nd May 4th 1915. Position April 22. THE ORIGINAL SALIENT AT YPRES]

I left the arrangements for the funeral with our Quartermaster, Captain Duguid. He was to be buried the next night at the PlaceD'Amour. 

Truly, this was a war of attrition. One by one we were losing thegallant young officers that came over with us to Flanders. Darling waswounded, Sinclair wounded, Warren killed. Sinclair had had a dixie ofboiling water spilled on his leg while in the trenches and hadreceived a very severe burn. 

In the evening Captain Perry arrived from blowing up Hill 60. He hadescaped as usual without a scratch. Perry bore a charmed life. Isuppose it was because he lived so much in the north country in Canadaamong the miners who always carry a stick of dynamite in their bootlegs. At the Rue Pettion billet he escaped the "coal box" that enteredthe next room in which Captain McGregor slept. The shell made pulp outof McGregor's clothes and belongings, but Perry was not scratched, although not ten feet away from where the shell burst. At Hill 60 heassisted the British engineer to run several mines under the Germantrenches. He was the last man out of the tunnels when they were loadedwith several car loads of dynamite, and his was the grimy hand thattouched the button that sent half the Hill and about eight hundredGermans into the air. He had a narrow escape from being buried alive. 

Captain Perry had a terrible experience after the mine was blown up. As soon as the mine blew up the Germans turned all their artillery onthe crater to prevent the British from taking possession till theycould bring up reserves. The place became a living hell. Perry, afterexamining the crater with a lantern, found a German counter mine witha candle still burning in it. It had been vacated. He started to makehis way out through a communication trench to make his report when heran into a British brigade coming in and had to lie down in the trenchand let the brigade pass over him. He was mud and sand from head tofoot. 

CHAPTER XXI

THE RED COCK CROWS

On the afternoon of the 19th I was very busy closing out mycorrespondence. I always made it a point while I was out of thetrenches to answer all the letters I had received, and that usuallyoccupied three or four hours every day while we were out of the trenchline. 

Previous to this our battalion has alternated with the Royal MontrealRegiment in our tour of trench duty. The rule used to be for eachbattalion to be three days in the trenches, and then three days out. In these trenches we were changed around. The 16th Canadian Scottishwere to alternate with the 48th Highlanders. The 16th reported to usthat the trenches were very bad, and we were to go into them the nextnight. This evening Majors Marshall and MacKenzie were out visitingcompany billets, and my Adjutant, Capt. Dansereau and I went into asmall Flemish restaurant to have our dinner. While we were seated atthe table an officer of the French Flying Corps and several of his mencame in for something to eat, and we engaged in conversation. TheFrench Officer, whose name is well known, and who was afterwardskilled, was a small perky chap with black hair and eyes. His cheekswere hollow, as like most of the top-notch aviators he had had histeeth pulled out. 

Many of the aviators have all their teeth drawn because when at veryhigh altitudes it is very cold, and the nerves of the teeth becomeaffected and give them most intense pain. 

These officers told us that the French Flying Corps was going to leavethat night for a district further south where there was going to besome "nibbling" at the German front. He told us further that theGermans were moving a great number of guns into the Ypres section, andthat he had an idea that as soon as the Canadians and British tookover the salient we would be "jolly well shelled, " if not attacked inforce. This was very cheerful news, and sure enough the next day theybegan shelling the city with big Austrian siege mortars, a shell fromone of which killed Captain Warren. 

In the evening of the 20th I rode out to the company billets to seethat everything was in readiness for the battalion to take over theright section of our line from the 16th. The companies were to marchinto three sections independently, shortly after dark, and the ideawas to have the relief over as quickly as possible. I found the menand officers in excellent spirits. Captain McGregor was to take theright section of our line, Captain Alexander the left and CaptainMcLaren the centre. They started off a little too early in theevening, and I had to send couriers to halt them and wait for thedarkness. It was a beautiful spring evening, bright and warm. Thelarks were still soaring and singing in the sky, and the sun in thewest was going down in a sea of gold and amethyst. South of us atabout Hill 60 the guns were growling, the only sound at the moment toremind us of the war. But there was something else of ominous portentnoticable. Simultaneously, northwest, east and southeast of our linethree huge German captive balloons reared their heads for all theworld like golden hooded cobras. Away, twenty miles to the south, inthe sky could be seen the snaky outline of a zeppelin. The Germanswere taking observations. When I reached the headquarters' line oftrenches in front of our brigade headquarters, a few hundred yardswest of St. Julien, I sent the horses back with Smith, my groom, andstood by the roadside to watch the companies go by. First came MajorOsborne, who was to take the left, with his tam-o-shanter bonnetcocked on the side of his head, as jaunty a Highland officer as evertrod the heath in Flanders. His company swung after him, marching likeone man. The trenches had certainly not taken anything out of them, for if anything they looked steadier and sturdier than they did theday they left their billets in Hazebrouck to take their first march inFrance. 

Some distance behind came Captain McGregor, his two hundred and fortymen tall as pine trees, with Lieutenant Langmuir and Lieutenant Taylorat the head of their platoons, both well over six feet. Next cameCaptain McLaren, always staid and correct, his company well pulledtogether, going so fast that a word of caution had to be given tothem. Last of all came Captain Alexander, whose turn it was to be inreserve. His company was to occupy and act as part of the garrison atSt. Julien, there to cover themselves with glory. 

When I reached the village I found that Major Leckie was occupying thereserve headquarters of the 16th, and across the road was ColonelMeighen of the 14th or Montreal Regiment. The south section of thevillage was ours and the north was for the reserve corps of thebattalion holding the left section of the line. The house in which wewere quartered had at one time been a small restaurant, but thevillage had several times been shot up. The walls almost to theceiling were plastered with blood. There was hardly a house in thevillage without several shell holes in the roof. Terrible tragedieshad been enacted here. The gardens had a full crop of black and whitecrosses. 

Colonel Meighen had a very swell house, the windows looking southtowards Hooge and Hill 60. He came over and welcomed me to St. Julienand showed me his trench diary and plans of the trenches. ColonelMeighen was a very thorough and painstaking officer, very much lovedby his men. Several companies of his battalion were French Canadiansand they fairly worshipped him. He was a model trench commandant, never tired of strengthening the works, and always ready himself to doanything that he asked of his officers or men. He had made anexcellent battalion out of his corps, and as we had alternated withthem in the trenches until this turn, we knew their worth. His secondin command, Colonel Burland, was also a keen and efficient officer. The commandant of the 14th was not a "fusser. " He was always cool andcollected and his example permeated his whole staff and officers. Captain Holt, his adjutant, was one of the hardest working officers inthe division, cheerful, obedient and alert. He was a model staffofficer. 

Major Leckie turned over the trench diary to my adjutant. He reportedthat the 16th were hard at work fixing up the trenches which were in avery poor condition. His brother, Colonel Leckie, was down atcommandant headquarters in the supporting trenches. Major Marshallwent down to take over from Colonel Leckie, and I stayed at reportheadquarters to report back as quickly as possible that the trencheshad been taken over. The 16th Battalion did not take very long to getout, and one by one our Captains reported their companies in place. 

The battalions in the trenches reported that the front was quiet, andit was added that there had not been a casualty in our section amongthe French troops for a month. 

My sleeping bag was placed in a corner of the only room with a soundroof in the house, and I slept soundly in spite of the blood-bespatteredwall which told of a desperate struggle in this room during the greatbattles of the previous November. 

In spite of the fact that the French had not had a casualty for amonth, the map told me we were in the hottest corner in the whole ofFlanders. I did not feel at all nervous, as a matter of fact after aperson has been under shell and rifle fire for a few days he ceases tobe nervous. Nerves are for those who stay at home. At first the heartaction quickens a little with the sound of the explosions and thecrack of the Mauser bullets, but after a while the nerves fail torespond and the action of the heart becomes slow and the beats belownormal. The explosion of a "Jack Johnson" in the next room will notgive you a tremor. Why should it? Jock will say, "If you are going tobe kilt, you will be kilt ony-way. " That is the everyday religion ofthe trenches. "When your time comes you will get yours, and all themachine guns and shells in Germany can have no potency if your timehas not come. "

 [Illustration: THE FAMOUS ROAD TO YPRES. ]

War tends to make us all fatalists, and the officers have to becontinually on the alert to keep the men from becoming careless. 

In the morning I tried to arrange to go down to Ypres to the funeralof Captain Warren. Major Osborne wanted to go also and take a firingparty with him, but much as he would have liked to acquiesce, GeneralTurner had to refuse, for we were in a dangerous corner and no onecould be spared. Lieutenant Drummond, his brother-in-law, waspermitted to attend. Captain Duguid, the quartermaster, with theassistance of the engineers, had a metallic coffin made for him andthey buried him in the Canadian burial plot. 

That morning I learned of the death of Captain Darling in London. Wehad expected that Captain Darling would be convalescent shortly afterhe went to England, but about a week before news had come thatgangrene, the terrible disease that took so many of our wounded, hadinfected his shoulder, and a number of serious operations had to beperformed. Still we had hoped that his splendid physique would pullhim through. But it was not to be, and the two comrades that had beenthe pride of the regiment died within a few hours of each other. 

The whole Empire did not possess two kinder or braver men thanCaptains Darling and Warren. It is only when men go down into thevalley of the shadow of death together that they learn to appreciateeach other. In the trenches soldiers are true comrades, backbiting, lying and slandering is left to the slackers and "tin soldiers" whostay at home. Both these young men were in the flower of their youth, both left young wives, both were men of means, brought up amidstwealth and refinement. They gave up a good deal to go to the war, andtheir example and their lives should fix a tradition not only fortheir fellow officers of "The Red Watch" but also for the wholeCanadian Army. They did not hesitate to "take their place in theranks, " and they died like the heroes of Marathon and Salamis. 

Early in the morning a German aeroplane, an albatress, came over St. Julien. The German aeroplanes have a large, black maltese or ironcross on each wing. The allies have a red, white and blue rosette. Shortly afterwards the German artillery started to shell the southernsection of St. Julien. They threw a few shells at the remains of thechurch, then they started after a house and large barn south of us, about half way to the village of Fortuin. The barn was a largestructure covered with a couple of feet of rye straw thatchbeautifully put on. In a moment there was smoke and we saw someCanadian artillerymen running towards the barn which was apparentlyfull of horses. One after another the beautiful artillery teams werechased out of the burning structure which the Germans continued toshell. The horses were turned loose in the field and proceeded toenjoy themselves like colts, and although the Germans fired shrapnelat them they did not hit one. In a moment the "red cock, " as theGermans say, "was crowing on the roof. " The flames rose to a greatheight and in a few minutes there was nothing but the charred raftersleft. 

The trenches reported everything quiet for the rest of the day. 

That afternoon along with one of my signallers, Sergeant Calder, Imade my way to commandant headquarters at the northern extremity ofGravenstafel ridge, northeast of St. Julien. I met Colonel Meighen, who showed me a line of trenches east of the church which hisbattalion was putting in order. When I got down to commandantheadquarters General Turner came along with his Brigade-Major, ColonelHughes. They were looking over the position with a view to having somedugouts and rifle pits established about five hundred yards south ofmy headquarters to support our right in case of trouble, the intentionbeing to put a company in reserve there. I found commandantheadquarters located in a dugout in the rear of a ruined windmill. Thecharred timbers of the mill lay scattered about, and all thatremained of the dwelling house was a heap of bricks and some tilesstill sticking to the roof. A line of short irregular trenches ranacross the front of the slope. Behind headquarters the hill slopedback to Haenebeek brook, northwest and southeast. Five hundred yardsbehind the Gravenstafel ridge ran the road from Zonnebeke toLangemarck. On this road immediately in our rear there was a ruinedblacksmith shop and several old farm engines. Some of the implementsbore the name of Massey-Harris, which brought back visions of Canada, and was another evidence of our coming world-wide trade, thepossibilities of which first struck me when I saw the name of anotherCanadian manufacturer, Gurney & Co. , on a heater alongside the tomb ofWilliam Longsword in Salisbury Cathedral. 

A few yards south of the blacksmith shop a dressing station had beenfitted up in the ruins of another farm house at a cross-road whichsubsequently came to be known as "enfiladed cross-road. " In front ofthe blacksmith shop a clear spring of water ran out of a pipe and thewater was cool and good. I quenched my thirst from the steel cup takenfrom a French Hussar's helmet. The man who wore the helmet was nodoubt sleeping peacefully beneath one of the crosses that were strewnthickly over the little cemetery of St. Julien. These littlegraveyards were to be found in all the fields and gardens. It waswonderful how the French soldiers cared for them. Wherever a soldierof France lay there you would find a cross, with his name and thelegend that he fell on the field of honor. The graves were usuallydecorated with tile and flowers, some real, some artificial. Francethus silently worships the memory of her gallant dead. 

CHAPTER XXII

GERMAN GAS AND TURCOS

"Be careful there, " said Capt. McGregor. "The French were short ofsandbags here and they have built several dead Germans into theparapets. " I was examining our new trenches in the twilight and mynose had been assailed by that peculiar odor which emanates from thedead. 

"Get plenty of quicklime down here to-morrow, " I suggested. "Buildsome traverses where they are laid. "

"You're pretty heavy, don't step too hard. Dead Germans there. "Lieutenant Langmuir was then piloting me along his section. 

"Out in front, there on the left, there is a dead French officercaught in the German wire. He has been hanging there since lastNovember. The Germans have left him there. There is nothing now but ablue coat and red trousers. "

This certainly was the worst corner in the way of trenches I had seensince we came to Flanders. Behind the ditch rows of crosses, black andwhite, stood up a few feet away, ghastly reminders in the halfdarkness of the toll that had been paid to take and hold the trenches. The defenders here were buried where thy fell. 

Earlier in the day I went down to the front line and had leisure toexamine the commandant's headquarters, which had been held by ourgallant French Allies since November, 1914. It was a dugout in therear of a ruined windmill, and contained several pigmy rooms. Therewas a room for the signallers, another for the adjutant and one forthe commandant. The French officers had left behind them excellentmaps of the German position showing their trenches, also panoramicsketches showing the roads, villages and houses opposite, withcompass points. These sketches were the work of their gunners. Nowonder the 75's were so deadly. Their efficacy is in their recoil andthe "graze" fuze they use. Their high explosive shells strike theground, bound in the air and burst about thirty feet forward fromwhere they strike. In this way they form a curtain of fire filled withsplinters of steel, over the German trenches. 

I turned a copy of the panoramic sketch over to Major MacDougall ofthe Toronto Battery, when he went into the loft of a ruined house somedistance away to check up his guns as they fired on the Poelcapelleroad in front of us. 

I slipped quietly into a fire trench on the forward slope of the ridgeto observe the guns at work also. I had sent word down to MajorOsborne in the forward trenches to clear the men out of the redoubtson either side of the road so that if a shell fell short it would nothurt anyone. The Canadian "observing officers" were always verycareful in "registering, " as they called it. They began by sendingtheir shots well over the German parapets, and gradually comingcloser, instead of firing a shell short, another long and dividing. 

While we were observing the Germans replied to our guns, and verynearly got Major MacDougall. Poor chap, he was subsequentlyassassinated by a German spy or sniper behind in billets. His clothingwas stolen and worn by the assassin who was caught and suffered thedeath penalty. 

Major Marshall came along to see what was going on and stood for aminute at the head of my trench. The Germans spotted his Glengarry andbegan shelling my trench with "Jack Johnsons, " and Major Marshall hadto clear out. I stayed until they got tired of shelling and then had agood look at their lines through my field glasses. The ground slopedgently down from where I stood in the sap-head for about three hundredyards to our forward line of redoubts. Away to the northwest thedouble line of parapets disappeared in the trees and hedges aroundLangemarck. Just short of the village the Third Brigade (ours) took upthe defence. The trenches here for about five hundred yards were heldby the Royal Highlanders of Montreal. Major Osborne held several halfmoons on the far side of the Poelcapelle Road. Then our battalionlines continued southerly, running for about eight hundred yards tillthere came a gap which occurred between us and the Winnipeg Rifles. Immediately behind our line ran Strombeek River, (we would call it acreek). It marked the bottom of the slope and crossed the line oftrenches held by the "Little Black Devils, " as the men of the WinnipegBattalion were called. 

 [Illustration: Map of the BATTLE OF ST JULIAN April 22nd May 4th 1915. Position April 23rd THE BREAK IN THE SALIENT]

The line of the Second Canadian Brigade trenches then ascended theGravenstafel ridge. On the east side of the ridge the land sloped uptowards Poelcapelle and Roulers. This slope was not very steep, butsufficiently so to dominate the little valley in which were ourforward line of trenches. All along the enemy's lines were variousclumps of trees, each one of which no doubt concealed severalbatteries of artillery, referred to in the conversation of my friendof the flying corps. High above the trees and the distant red tiledroofs of Roulers I could see the spire of the Gothic Church of St. Michael. Beneath these walls on June 13th, 1794, a fierce struggletook place between the Austrians under Clerfait and the French troopsunder Marshal Macdonald, in which the French Republican troops of thelatter were victorious. Beyond Roulers lay Ghent, Antwerp andBrussels. The high ground in front was strongly held by the enemy, forthis was the key to the advance on Brussels and Waterloo. 

My examination of our position ended. I began to retrace my steps toSt. Julien, but the Germans spotted me in some way and followed meacross the fields with salvos of high explosive shells. I could hearthe shells coming as the field was dotted here and there with "crump"holes or craters where shells had fallen. I promptly ducked into ahole till the "whistling Willies" fell and sent showers of mud andflying steel over my head. I observed that sometimes these "crump"holes were very small, and found that after all in this war a smallman had some advantage over me. I made my way back to the village, carefully reconnoitering all the trenches on the way, for I had apremonition that we might want to use them some time soon. 

After dusk I returned again to commandant headquarters and went intothe front line of trenches along with the ration party. There was lotsof work to be done to strengthen our position if we were to hold ourtrenches as we had been ordered to do. 

We started down the old disused mill road in the twilight of a lovelyspring evening. Behind us the moon hung a silver bow almost on thehorizon. It was going to be one of those nights, clear, but withobjects not distinguishable at any great distance. Major Osborne metme at his dugout, which was on the east bank of the creek, andtogether we went on to the left of our line where his men were busydigging fire trenches in the rear of the half moons. Here I saw forthe first time a line of French trenches. The French lines were heldentirely different to ours. We usually built solid parapets of clayand sandbags high enough and strong to protect a man standing up, butthe French usually do not allow this to be done. They had adoptedtheir favorite method of entrenchment here, namely, a series of lowparapets built in the form of half moons. My battalion held seventeenof these half moons and our brigade, I understood from our BrigadeMajor Lieut. Col. Hughes, held far more of the line than it wasintended we should hold. About three hundred yards of our right line, some seven half moons, were to be turned over to the Second Brigade onthe next relief. 

I went over his section carefully with Major Osborne. All the youngofficers were hard at work bracing up the parapets, joining themtogether and rapidly erecting formidable defences. I consulted withthem all as I passed along the line from left to right, Macdonald, Fessenden, Daniels, Taylor, Bath and Smith, and all were of oneopinion, viz. , that the half moons should be turned into smallredoubts, and a line of parapets built as quickly as possibleconnecting them. 

The French parapets were not built to be held, as we were ordered tohold our line. They build low parapets so the men will have to crouchbehind them, and they will want to go forward and take the otherfellow's line in order to get better quarters in the German trenches. 

This corner had been the scene of some hot fighting at some periodduring the war, for in my tour of the trenches that night Iencountered a dozen little graveyards a few yards in rear of theparapets. 

Back and forward I went, and the entire line was canvassed anddiscussed. Lieutenant Fessenden, one of the most brilliant graduatesof the Royal Military College, had a particularly hard spot to dealwith, and was handling it in a manner worthy of any of the greatBelgian engineers. Fessenden had a brother in the British army. Nolieutenant in the whole allied army was a better student of the art ofwar, or a more fearless man, than this rosy-cheeked boy of twenty-two. 

"Sandbags, and more sandbags!" was the reply of Lieutenant Macdonald, when I questioned him as to the requirements of his section. He was onthe extreme left, and if anything happened on that side he was sure tobe enfiladed. He was quite cool about it, however, a worthy namesakeof the great Marshal who had fought so valiantly beneath the walls ofRoulers a few miles away. 

Lieutenant Smith, always cool and dour, a thorough Scot, was a man tobe trusted in a tight place. Captain McKessock had a long talk with meabout the machine gun positions. He had reconnoitred his ground verycarefully, and had found several places back of the lines where hecould mount a gun and rake the German lines if they advanced to theattack. Captain McKessock was one of the men who had sacrificed agreat deal to do his share in this war. He was a captain in the 95thBattalion when the war broke out, and he brought a large quota of mento Valcartier. He joined the 48th and insisted upon having command ofthe machine gun section. It was pointed out to him that it was asubaltern's position, but he wished to have it, and his wishes weregratified. He left the position of crown attorney of a large district, with an income of ten thousand dollars a year, to go to the front, leaving behind him a wife and family. Such devotion to duty isexemplary. He understood his guns thoroughly, and is one of the fewmen I have met who had studied the tactical employment of the gun aswell as its technical operation. 

When I came to Captain Daniel's section he was waiting for me. Danielswas a very handsome man, an engineer of note, a graduate of theTechnical Department of Mines in Queen's University. He, too, gave upa splendid position, as manager of a large mine in Cobalt, to go tothe war. He was a very competent engineer and knew his workthoroughly. As we passed along his parapets we could hear the Germanstalking, and a party of them out in front of their parapets weredriving in stakes for their barbed wire. There was not much firinggoing on, and as we had several parties out in front engaged on thesame task, we decided to leave our Saxon friends alone for the timebeing until ours got back under cover. We could see their ghost-likeforms close by from our listening post. If we opened fire on them theywould likely get some of our patrols. 

Lieutenants Taylor and Langmuir were both busy at their sections. Langmuir was one of the "finds" of the 48th. He joined us at LongBranch by coaxing me very hard to give him a commission. I hesitatedon account of his youth, but finally consented because I recognized agleam in his hazel eyes that told me that if the occasion arose hewould be a man of high courage. He was tall and slim with a brightcolor on his cheeks, and several of my older officers said it was ashame to take him along, he was so young that the hardships would killhim. I took him nevertheless, and though he knew very little aboutdrill or military matters, he studied night and day so hard that itsoon became known he was one of the best instructors in the battalion. He developed into a strong well built man, over six feet tall withbroad shoulders and a commanding presence. He had a splendid grip onhis men, who worshipped him and would follow him any place. CaptainMcGregor never tired of singing his praises. He was admired and lovedby everyone, an ideal officer and a gentleman worthy to lead aHighland platoon or regiment anywhere. Taylor, who was with McGregor, looked up his captain for me when I came to his section. LieutenantTaylor was a student at Oxford University when the war broke out. Hethrew up lectures and joined our battalion as a supernumerary. Ourofficers had almost all known him before. Standing over six feet tall, with the shoulders and chest of a young giant, Taylor was a man to benoted anywhere. He was famed both at home, in Canada, and abroad as astudent and an athlete. He pulled a good oar, played a splendid gameof football, hockey and lacrosse. He was an all round star, "a bornleader of men, " as Lieutenant Alex. Sinclair, himself a well knownathlete, said to me when he was pleading Taylor's cause for acommission. Both Taylor and Langmuir were very fearless men. They wereconstantly out in front of their lines at night reconnoitreing theGerman lines and boldly trying to get a look into the German trenches. I had to check them several times and warn them against taking anyunnecessary risks. 

Daniels had a very hard section of trenches at Neuve Chapelle. He hadgone out on the "devil strip" at night, reconnoitred his whole frontand mapped it for an advance. 

I arranged with Lieutenants Mavor and Fessenden to have a sketch ofthe line made showing the work proposed to be done. On our right therewas a wide space between ourselves and the Winnipeg Battalion. Thisopen space was protected by wire entanglements, but McGregor and Mavorboth contended that it was a dangerous spot. I told them that it wasthe intention to give several of the redoubts on our right to aCompany of the 8th Battalion, and that the order was expected to comethrough the following evening. Lieutenant Mavor accompanied me out tocommandant headquarters. On the way out we met a working party of theCanadian engineers going in with Major Wright at their head. I couldnot help remarking about the commanding figure of Major Wright, wholooked like a giant in the uncertain light, a paladin out of the pagesof ancient or mediaeval history. I made my way back to St. Julien thatnight, not by any means satisfied with our military position. TheGermans could certainly shell us jolly well if they liked, for so faronly five of our own batteries had been put in position behind ourlines. But the French had some ten batteries of 75's on our left rearand that was assuring. The way in which our fire trenches were sightedat the bottom of the Gravenstafel slope did not commend itself to me. It is very difficult to get a good position for trenches. If you go ontop of a ridge, the enemy's guns will pound you to death, and if youlift your head they will get you with rifle fire on the sky line. Ifyou dig in on the forward slope they will look into your trenches withtheir guns. If you go to the bottom of the slope, the enemy on thehigh ground on the other side can command your trenches. In rear ofthe crest, the old Wellington position is the best. Our supportingline held this position, but I felt that on the forward slope towardsthe enemy a few rifle pits would give us a chance to get at thembehind their lines. This was to be attended to as soon as the work onthe forward trenches was completed. This Ypres salient had only onething of military value to commend it. It afforded a position in whichtroops could be massed to break through and advance on Ghent andAntwerp. I suspected that when the proper time came that was whatwould happen here. "Sentiment should have no place in business" is ahackneyed expression. War is a business, therefore sentiment shouldhave no place in war. In war there is usually too much sentiment. Wecling to impossible positions because we have won them and held them. We attack villages and redoubts that we should go around, and out ofwhich the enemy would run the minute they found us on their line ofretreat. We fail to support because we think it is a corps duty tohold their own line, which they may be able to do, but out of which ifthey had been supported they might launch a counter attack at the wornand shaken enemy which might bring us a notable victory. Theprinciples of war which guided Wellington and his staff apply to thiswar. I often wished I had brought my "Napier's History" ofWellington's campaigns with me. 

When we got back to St. Julien the staff told me that the Germans hadregistered pretty nearly all over the place during the evening, andthat it was a case of shells from north, south, east and west. Duringthe night I called up the various sections of our line and they allreported that the Germans were very quiet. 

While I was doing the rounds of the forward trenches I could not helpnoting the roar of waggons and limbers along the whole German line infront of us. The night was very calm, and whilst it was quite usual tohear a lot of waggons about rationing time, still on this occasion thewhole German line seemed to be in motion. I had never heard anythinglike it before. Something extraordinary was certainly happening. Either the Germans were changing the army in front of us, or else Ithought they had got tired of holding the line in our immediate front, and anticipating a strong offensive of which rumors were abroad, theywere preparing to retreat to the Rhine. I reported the occurrence toheadquarters that night. 

In the morning of the 22nd of April Lieutenant Drummond of the RoyalHighlanders came to see me and told me he had attended the funeral ofCaptain Warren. 

The Germans were shelling our billets and dugouts in St. Julien prettyheavily, and I was asked to look up some places outside of the towninto which I could put some of the men and build new dugouts. Iselected several places along the banks of Hennebeke brook where theground was soft, and the shells would bury themselves and not explode, and started the men digging the dugouts. The particular spot which theGermans had chosen to shell that day was the "Cross Roads" and churchof St. Julien. All of the church was gone but a piece of the spire. The graveyard in the rear of the church was torn all to pieces with"coal-boxes, " and the coffins and remains of dead civilians andsoldiers had been unearthed. These graves had already been carefullyrepaired by our men under Pioneer Sergeant Lewis under heavy shellfire. Some distance east of the church a line of fire trenches hadbeen cut. These were to be occupied in case of an attack. The shellingcontinued all day. In the afternoon about four o'clock my adjutantand I visited the supporting trenches and dugouts at the forwardlines. We had a chat with Major Marshall and some of the officers overthe telephone, and repeated the orders given to me, that if we wereattacked we were to hold the trenches till support came, for if wegave any portion of them up we would have to take them back ourselveswith the bayonet. 

Lieutenant Dansereau was returning with me about five o'clock to St. Julien to see what progress had been made on our new dugouts, when avery heavy cannonade and rifle fire broke out along the northeasternface of the salient along the section held by the French troops. Therifle fire seemed to grow heavier every minute and a strange yellowhaze grew over the distant line of the French trenches. I remarkedabout the haze to the adjutant, and we both concluded that either theFrench or Germans were using some new form of gunpowder that causedthe greenish haze. 

For weeks we had become accustomed to heavy bursts of infantry fire, but these bursts had usually died away. This seemed to continue longerthan usual. As we neared St. Julien I met Captain Alexander, andordered him to tell his men to get their rifles and ammunition and"stand to. " The Germans immediately began shelling our dugouts nearthe church with "coal-boxes, " and in a minute they had put a shellinto one of them and four men were killed. As I passed up the mainstreet I warned the men and told them to be in readiness to take theirplaces in the trenches in front of and at the northeast corner of thevillage. 

I went to the battalion headquarters and ordered out the orderlies, and in a few minutes the French troops began streaming back withoutarms or accoutrements. To my horror I found that they were Turcos andnot the regular French troops which we had thought were holding thatpart of the line. Lieutenant Dansereau spoke French to them, but manypretended they did not understand. 

Almost immediately the bombardment of St. Julien became fiercer andthe number of Turcos coming back greater. We hurriedly gathered asmany as were armed of them together and sent them up to assist ourcompanies in the St. Julien trenches. By this time the rifle fire wasvery intense and the gas so thick that it choked us, so I orderedevery man to go to the trenches. I sent messengers to General Turner, V. C. , to inform him of conditions and where we were. 

CHAPTER XXIII

THE BATTLE OF ST. JULIEN

It did not take us very long to realize that a great disaster hadbefallen our gallant Allies who held the northern face of the salient. The Turcos in broken French explained that the Germans had sentasphyxiating gas from their trenches, and that the gas had killed onequarter of their men. For weeks we had been warned that the Germanswere going to use asphyxiating gasses against us, but no one had everdreamed that they would be so inhuman as to use gas that would kill, but they had done so, for the Turcos told us that many of their menhad fallen dead where they stood. 

The gas used was chlorine gas which is one of the by-products of theprocess whereby common salt is turned into soda, salt being acombination of soda and chlorine. When the salt is heated along withan acid the chlorine gas is liberated, the soda remaining. This sodais used in manufacturing soap. The chlorine is generally combined withlime to make chloride of lime or bleaching powder. In the chemicalworks of Germany the amalgamation of chlorine and lime was omitted, the chlorine being liquified under pressure in tanks. This liquidchlorine was a cheap preparation used largely for bleaching linens andcloth of various kinds manufactured in the districts in which we werefighting. The bleacheries were silent and there was no longer any usein the cloth industry for the German chlorine gas, so the Germanshaving plenty of it on hand no doubt decided to use it against theAllies. 

We had staid a trifle too long in the village of St. Julien while thestreets were filled with this deadly gas. Some of our orderlies couldhardly escape and several of the headquarters staff had to be sent tothe hospital. I had taken on a pretty stiff cargo of it myself. Whenit is first breathed it is not unpleasant, smelling not unlikechloroform, but very soon it stings the mucous membrane of the mouth, the eyes, and the nose. The lungs feel as if they were filled withrheumatism. The tissues of the lungs are scalded and broken down, andit takes a man a long time to recover, if he ever does fully recoverafter having some of the "upholstering" of his lungs destroyed. We didnot then quite realize the horror of this new form of cowardly andinhuman warfare, but we should have known that the Germans considerwar a game without an umpire or a referee. 

 [Illustration: SNIPING THROUGH A PORT HOLE]

Messages came promptly from General Turner, V. C. , of the Third Brigadeto hang on, that the Canadians were going to try and hold the Germansback until help came. We all knew we could depend on General Turner, V. C. , and his Brigade-Major, Lt. -Colonel Garnet Hughes. We knew thatwe were fighting a rear guard action and that this was no time tothink of running away. We hardly realized, however, that the Battle ofSt. Julien which had just commenced was to be one of the greatestbattles in the history of the world, that the Canadian casualties wereto be as great as the casualties of the British at Waterloo, that thetotal casualties of the combatants before the fight was ended were tonumber close to seventy thousand men, and that the Canadians, by bravefighting and losing sixty per cent. Of their men for three days, wereto hold in check five German army corps, or a total of close to aquarter of a million men. 

The brunt of the fighting fell to the lot of the Third Canadian(Highland Brigade). Through their lines ran the frightened anddisorganized Turcos, groaning and shrieking in agony and fright. TheFrench artillery men, finding their lines broken and confronted withthe deadly wall of chlorine gas which rolled slowly over the groundturning the budding leaves of the trees, the spring flowers and thegrass a sickly white, destroying every living creature in its path, blasting and shrivelling everything over which it swept, cut theirhorses loose and fled, in many cases two of them clinging to onehorse. Ten batteries, it is said, were lost in this way, a gap ofnearly six miles was made in the French line through which the Germanspoured firing rifles, machine guns and cannon at the fugitives. ATurco Division, and part of a French Division had fled. A remnant ofFrench troops belonging to the "Iron Divisions" held on next thecanal. 

To meet this situation, the most alarming which had confronted aBritish General for centuries, there was for the moment only thereserve troops of one Canadian Division. These consisted of the 7thBattalion of British Columbia under Colonel Hart McHarg, which was inbillets between Fortuin and Ypres, the 10th Battalion Calgary andBrandon under Colonel Boyle in billets in Ypres, and the 16th CanadianScottish under Lt. -Col. Leckie billeted in Ypres and the farm cottagestowards La Bryke to the north. 

General Turner, V. C. , of the Third Canadian Brigade, took promptmeasures to ensure the safety of the line and the fighting part of theaction was in sure hands. Not a moment was lost. Orders were sent downto the commanders in the trenches to hang on, and the 16th Battalion, Canadian Scottish, was ordered to "stand to" its arms on the outskirtsof Ypres. Aid was asked from the 2nd Brigade, and the 7th and 8thBattalions were placed at the disposal of the Third Brigade Commander. 

As there was only a very gentle breeze the gas did not clear out ofthe way very quickly, so that the victorious march of the Germans onYpres was considerably checked. The Huns had a wholesome dread of theCanadian rifles and they advanced cautiously, firing "flares" in theair to mark their advance to their artillery. The flares flamed whitein the dying sunlight. 

The situation, as far as the Canadians were concerned, was that uponus there devolved the necessity of fighting a rear guard action. Theword was passed from officer to officer. We knew we had to fight tothe last. In a rear guard action every man has to be sacrificed. Behind us holding the other sector of the salient was the 27th and28th British Divisions. If we gave way they would be slaughteredalmost to a man, and the German road to Calais, forty odd miles away, only two short marches, would be open. 

The Germans were spending millions of rounds of ammunition. Thestreets of St. Julien were covered with a curtain of shell fire, whilst the air was filled with the weird sound of the rifle bullets asthey rattled a deadly tatoo on the few tiles that remained clinging tothe charred and battered roofs. The air was thick with spent particlesof steel and lead that rattled on the pavement and tiles as myAdjutant, Sergeant Miller and I made our way out of the burningshattered buildings through dense clouds of asphyxiating gasses thatblinded us to the trenches at the east side of the village whereCaptains Alexander and Cory held their ground. 

So far, so good. The fleeing Turcos had not spread panic in the ranksof the Canadians. Every man was prepared to die rather than give upthe trenches. As we made our way to Captain Alexander in the gatheringdusk we passed through a company of the 7th Battalion going intoreserve behind St. Julien. As we reached the trenches we learned thatthe 7th Battalion had received orders, and were going to fill the gapbetween the defenders of St. Julien and the trenches held by the RoyalHighlanders of Montreal and the 48th Highlanders of Toronto at the toeof the salient. 

One of the first men to greet me when we got to the trenches wasCaptain Alexander, cool and imperturbable. He always had a pleasantword for everybody and a kind heart for his men. During the smallhours of the morning the 7th Battalion slipped quietly past us, also acompany of the Buffs. They quickly lined the St. Julien, Poelcapelleroad and began to dig themselves in. 

All through this trying time I was accompanied by my adjutant, Lieut. Dansereau, and Sergeant Miller. We all realized that the situation wasvery serious, but they were both very cheerful and Miller was in thebest of spirits, cracking jokes with the men. 

When the shelling of the village began, my men showed me a bomb proofcellar which they suggested that I should occupy. I examined it, butsomething compelled me not to stay in it. Inside of ten minutes it wasdestroyed by a couple of "coal boxes. "

One of our signallers, Bell, tried to hang on to the telephone at ourcentre in St. Julien village, although two shells burst in thebuilding and he narrowly escaped death. The signalling section underSergeant Calder soon had the line connected up with our trenches, andBell was ordered to leave St. Julien, which he did reluctantlyalthough he had suffered a lot from the gas and had been slightlydeafened by the explosions. 

The chirpiest soldier in the whole outfit was Signalling SergeantCalder, who was one of the shortest men in the regiment. The breadthof his shoulders and the burr on his tongue got him enlisted in thefirst instance. As he was stringing the wires to the trench he had toduck several times. "Here is where I shine by being a 'sawed-off, '" heinformed me. We were soon in touch with commandant headquarters, andfrom Major Marshall I learned that our forward trenches were stilluntouched. As the night closed in the Germans redoubled their shellingof St. Julien. The charred church spire was lit up with the highexplosive shells, and several fires broke out in the village and madethe night hideous. Shrapnel broke constantly overhead spraying ourtrenches and several men were wounded. Several poor wounded Turcos hadtaken refuge in our trench. One of them, an under officer, informedLieutenant Dansereau that the Turcos would stick with the British tillthe last. He added as an aside that he wished Algiers was asprosperous as Egypt. So much for this son of the desert who in thisterrible hour envied the Fellah of Egypt who was permitted to followhis ordinary avocation as farmer, in the midst of all these warliketimes, undisturbed by conscription or his British rulers. 

As dawn came the German fire increased and my adjutant pulled a notebook out of his pocket and began writing in it with a big bluepencil. I asked him if he was going to try and send a message throughto headquarters. "No, sir, " he said. "I am afraid I will not come outof this alive, so I am writing a message to my friends, I havereconciled myself to death. "

I told him I felt sure that we were going to come out all right, thatI had a "hunch" that we were, and that some time we would read thatmemo together under happier circumstances, and it would bring backmemories of the Valley of the Shadow of Death through which we werepassing together. 

He shook his head doubtfully, and when I laughingly showed him aGerman horseshoe which I had picked up on the field when we first sawthe gas and which I still carried in my overcoat pocket, he smiled butwas not reassured. 

However, the fact that he felt that we were both going to be wiped outdid not dampen his courage. Strange to say my prophecy about his lastmessage came true, for we read it together and laughed over it inMontreal, Canada, months later as I had predicted. 

Before dawn several of my runners or signallers returned from brigadeheadquarters with the story of the fight around the farm house whereGeneral Turner, V. C. , and Major Wright of the engineers had ralliedthe cooks and orderlies to the defence of the place. They told us howthe 16th Battalion, the Canadian Scottish under Lieut. -Colonel Leckieand the gallant 10th Battalion under Lieut. -Colonel Boyle, had hurriedfrom Ypres to the aid of their comrades. These two battalions reachedthe reserve trenches in front of Wieltje about eight o'clock, whenthey were ordered on to 3rd Brigade Headquarters and preparations madefor them to counter attack the advancing Germans who had seized thewood northwest of St. Julien. 

The counter attack was launched at midnight, the 10th on the right intwo lines, and the 16th on the left. Major Lightfoot led the frontline of his battalion, the 10th. 

"Come on, boys, " he said, "remember you are Canadians. " The lineadvanced with great spirit, less than two thousand Canadians againsta hundred thousand Germans. It was the biggest bluff in history but itwon. On and on went the Canadians, 10th and Highlanders, one momentwith the bayonet the next moment firing. The Germans, who were busydigging in south of the wood, saw the Canadians coming in thetwilight, and only waited to fire a few shots and then they started torun. Lightfoot was down, but the line went on. Major McLaren fell, butthe lines never wavered. They drove the Germans into the wood andclear through it on the other side. If there had only been plenty ofsupporting troops the German victory would not only have been stayedbut the charging Canadians would have gone through the German armythat night. 

The British howitzer battery which had been lost was retaken, theFrench guns were recaptured and a great victory was in sight. 

When the Germans were caught they began to throw down their arms andcry for mercy. The gallant Canadians gave it, but in the hot rush ofthe charge they did not wait to disarm their foe. The second linesmerged into the first and the fight in the dim forest became Homeric. Then the cowardly Germans whose lives had been spared, plucked uptheir courage. They picked up their rifles and began like the Arabs inthe desert to shoot the men in the back who had spared their lives. Colonel Boyle went down, killed almost immediately. He had led histroops on through the forest by voice and example, armed only with ariding crop. The Germans were driven beyond the northern edge of theforest. The charge by this time had spent a good deal of its force, and as the flanks of the charging lines were not protected, and menwere falling on every side, it was deemed advisable to withdraw to thesouthern edge of the wood and occupy the line of shelter trencheswhich the Germans had begun to dig. This was one of the most gallantcharges in the annals of the Empire. The fame of the gallant chargesof the Canadians in St. Julien Wood will live forever in history, engraved in letters of gold. 

Considering that the brave Canadians met a foe that outnumbered themover twenty to one, that they drove the enemy ahead of them, foot byfoot, exacting fearful toll, their success was phenomenal and had atremendous effect upon the conquering Huns, who had fancied Ypres waswithin their grasp. The German Emperor, it was said, had comeespecially to the western front so as to be able to make a triumphalentry into the last city left to the King of Belgium, Ypres, and to beon hand when his guards and marines from the Kiel Canal, who werepresent in large numbers, did the goose-step down the Rue Royale toCalais. The courage of the Canadians proved his undoing. 

The struggle in the Wood at St. Julien will go down to history side byside with the fight at Albuera and the hand-to-hand struggle atInkerman. It was a soldier's battle, and many brave men fell. Whenroll call was held in the morning only five officers and 188 men ofthe 10th responded, whilst the 16th Canadian Scottish could onlymuster five officers and 260 men unhurt. The command of the 10th, owing to the death of Colonel Boyle, devolved upon Major Ormond, whogallantly held the position gained during the next day and untilSaturday morning, when he was relieved and sent as support to the 8thon Gravenstafel Ridge where I met him and his remnant at Enfiladedcrossroads, the hottest part of the line. 

The brigade bomb throwing unit assisted in the charge on the St. Julien Wood, and few of them lived to tell the tale. One of thembelonging to the Red Watch returned, Pte. Adkins, a boy of nineteen, and from him I learned many of the facts I have recounted. 

In the meantime what steps were being taken to succor the hard pressed3rd Brigade? A portion of the 45th French Division was still hangingon to the extreme left of the French line. They had fallen back to tryand conform with the general retirement on their right, but theypluckily determined to try and extend their ground by a counter chargenear Pilken and regained some ground. 

West of the Yperlee Canal at Vlamertinghe the 1st Canadian Brigade wasin billets. Two of the battalions, the 2nd and 3rd, were sent to aidthe stricken front. The 1st and 4th were kept in divisional reservewest of the canal. The 2nd and 3rd marched through Ypres and up theSt. Julien road. It was there they got their first real baptism offire. They advanced in open order and the German guns gave them "thecurtain of fire. " The 1st and 4th were later sent, first to the banksof the Yperlee Canal and subsequently to take part in the counterattack along with the rest of the Canadian Division. By three o'clockin the morning all the Canadian troops that were in reserve were upand at it, "hammer and tongs, " driving back the Germans and tryinghard to reconstitute the broken line from St. Julien to Pilken. 

In the counter attack some very brave deeds were performed by theToronto Regiment. As they marched down the stone road to St. Julienthey came under the intense shell fire, "the curtain of fire, " whichthe Germans were directing against all the approaches to our positionalong which reinforcements might come. Here and there a shell wouldfall in the ranks, but the regiment would only pull itself togetherand keep on. East of Wiltje a big shell fell and when the smokecleared away Macdonald of the machine gun section, Ross Binkley, Broughall and Bickerstaff, four of the most popular young men in thebattalion, great athletes and football players, had paid the price. Asthey neared the 3rd Brigade Headquarters they were put into theheadquarters trenches. Later on two companies were sent to fill in thevacant space between the right flank of the 10th and the corps thatheld the village of St. Julien. The companies that advanced were theBody Guards, the Mississauga Horse and the Royal Grenadiers, and theybehaved splendidly. 

As morning dawned the situation as far as we could learn was asfollows: The British section of the salient had not been attackedbeyond some desultory shelling. The section held by the SecondCanadian Brigade had remained untouched also. This section ran fromGravenstafel northerly. First, the 5th Battalion on the right, the 8thbattalion on the left. Then the 15th Battalion (the Red Watch) lessone company, held the line along Strombeek creek as far as thePoelcapelle road. The 13th Battalion (Royal Highlanders of Canada)carried on till their line almost reached Langemarck. Their left wasvery much in the air. The line then bent back towards thePoelcapelle-St. Julien road, and in the gap there was a company ofBuffs sent to try and fill in the opening. They stood almost back toback with the 13th. Then came three companies of the 7th Battalion. Acompany each of the 14th, "The Red Watch, " and the 13th with someTurcos were holding the trenches in front of the village of St. Julien. The Third battalion had succeeded in getting into touch at St. Julien and continued the line to the 10th south of St. Julien Wood. The 16th Canadian Scottish continued the line with some supportingcompanies of the 14th on their left. Here a gap occurred, defended bya few groups from the 2nd, and further along astride the Ypres Pilkenroad the 1st and 4th Canadians were fighting like heroes. TheCanadians during the night had reconstituted the line, but at greatcost. The troops in this front line all came under the command ofGeneral Turner, V. C. , of the 3rd Canadian Brigade, as senior officerpresent. His experienced eye recognized the weak places, and hisstaff, headed by Lt. Colonel Hughes, was there ready to lead the unitsto their proper places. Each Canadian unit as it came opposite itsplace had been ordered to attack, and after advancing some distancethey were ordered to dig in, which they did. 

The irresistible bayonet charges of the Canadians had misled theGermans, for their advance was paralysed and they had for the momentlost the initiative. 

Here is where a great military mistake was made but not by theCanadians. The German staff came to the conclusion that there must bethousands of supporting troops behind the charging Canadians and madethe biggest mistake of the war. But the Canadians had notaccomplished this bluff without much loss of life. 

One of the first officers of my acquaintance to fall on the evening ofthe 22nd was Lieutenant Drummond of the 13th Battalion. I had spokento him in the morning. When the Turcos had come streaming across thefield, tearing through his company of Montreal Highlanders, he, together with Major Norsworthy, gallantly tried to rally these men, along with my adjutant. Drummond fell, together with his comrade, eacha victim to a German bullet. No braver lad, no more ardent Highlanderever donned the tartan of the Black Watch than Lieutenant GuyDrummond. When he fell Canada lost a valuable and useful citizen. Histraining, education and charm of manner, coupled with his intensepatriotism, marked him for a great career. Major Norsworthy, hisfriend and comrade, fell by his side. 

Further along the line held by the Toronto Regiment, Captain GeorgeRyerson fell at the head of his company. "Happy" George, his comradesall called him, for he was worshipped by his men as he always wore asmile. No man ever saw a frown on the captain's face. Lieut. -ColonelBoyle had made the supreme sacrifice at the head of the 10th. MajorMaclaren of the same battalion had been wounded in the charge at St. Julien Wood and was killed outright by a shell in the ambulance on theway to Poperinghe. 

Word drifted through to me that our transport billets at Ypres hadbeen shelled and that Sergeant-Major Grant, "Soldier Bill, " as he wascalled by our men, had been dangerously wounded on the way down to thetrenches with ammunition. Macdonald, a gallant corporal of thequartermaster's department, had also been badly wounded and muchregimental property destroyed and lost. 

We passed a very disagreeable night. The trenches were wet andunpleasant and the incessant shelling made it impossible to move. Several wounded Turcos in the trenches kept moaning like fretfulchildren. Every time a shell burst there was a hideous chorus ofgroans and wails from them. Finally an exasperated Highlander shoved arifle butt threateningly in front of the groaning figures and thenoise was stopped. It is a strange thing, but I have never heard aCanadian groan when wounded. 

As the east reddened the sentries called out to the troops to "standto, " and I watched the men as each one stood up in the trench andwatched the sun rise. Many of them saw it that morning for the lasttime. Shortly after the order came to "stand down. "

The quartermaster succeeded in getting some rations through to us. Captain Duguid and Capt. Jago never failed. During the remainder ofthe fight they fed the whole brigade. 

My forward line reported "all well, " and we were cheered by theknowledge that the advance of the Hun had been checked, and regardlessof numbers we felt we could hold them. 

As the men were ordered to "stand down" I watched them one by onestart cleaning their rifles, getting ready for the stern businessahead the coming day. Their conduct so far had been splendid, and as Ithought of them in this critical hour standing in the gap for theEmpire, I realized that a new figure had risen in the luridbattle-swept horizon of Europe, that of the Canadian soldier, young, athletic, tense, alert and indomitable, a figure that will now live aslong as history and song is written. Unconsciously there rose thatmorning in my mind the majestic words of the great Milton:

"Methinks I see in my mind a noble and puissent nation rousing herselflike a strong man after his sleep and shaking her invincible locks. "

Those soldiers of ours that had barred the Hun were well worthy of theHomeric age fit to follow old Cromwell and his Ironsides. That nighthad witnessed thousands of gallant deeds that pen may never tell andto which neither crosses or medals could begin to do honor. 

CHAPTER XXIV

HANGING ON

"Stretcher for Captain Cory. "

A cry went along the line of the trenches, and two stretcher bearersjumped up on the parapet and ran towards the Poelcapelle Road, alongwhich Captain Cory's platoon held the trench. 

A groan went up from the whole line. We all thought Cory had been hit. He was a universal favorite. 

Only a few minutes before as dawn broke my officers in the fronttrenches came to me to report and have a cheery word. Captain "Bob"Cory, Captain Alexander, Lieutenant Barwick and Lieutenant Jones allreported and stopped for a moment's chat. 

While we were at Cassel, Captain Cory had obtained leave of thegeneral officer commanding, the blessing of his own commanding officerand the good wishes of his brother officers, and had gone to Londonfor two short weeks and there married Miss Telfer of Collingwood, Canada. She reached England with her sister, Mrs. (Major) Porter, toolate to become a bride before the regiment started for France. CaptainCory would not transfer and stay in England, so the first opportunitythat came he was granted leave. Marriage had quieted him down a lotand I kept cautioning him, for the sake of the wife he had leftbehind, to be careful. 

Barwick and Jones wanted leave to take their platoons down to theforward trenches to assist Major Osborne. Cory said that with theTurcos, and the other two platoons of the company, he could hold thetrenches at the northeast angle of the village, so I consented totheir leaving. It was a very brave offer, and it showed excellentspirit on their part to wish to go and participate in the defence ofthe peak of the salient which was considered the most dangerous partof the whole line. 

As Captain Cory was on his way back to his position one of his men washit with a machine gun bullet and they called for a stretcher. Istarted to go down the line to where he was, but was told he was allright, that it was one of his men that had been wounded. 

My signallers reported to me that all night long the fighting hadcontinued in front of St. Julien, the Germans trying to force anentrance at the northwesterly side between the village and the wood. The village had been shelled continually. During the night severallimbers of artillery came clattering down the road, dodging shellholes, dead horses and men, followed by the wakeful German guns, asthe gunners knew that these limbers held ammunition for the Canadianartillery in the first line. The Germans seemed to have a weird senseof what was going on on our roads. The 10th Battery under Major Kingwas at the cross roads at Kersselaere. During the night Major Kinggallantly ran one gun by hand well forward on the left of the RoyalHighlanders to try and stop the advance of the victorious Huns. It wasMajor King's ammunition that came rattling down the ruined streets ofSt. Julien during the night, and when the "coal boxes" fell at theconcrete bridge over the Hannebeek creek where it crossed the road notfar from the ruined St. Julien church, the horses and several of theriders fell to rise no more. Nothing daunted, the non-commissionedofficer in charge returned for help to man-handle his precious loaddown to the guns at the trenches. Captain D. S. Gardner of the 7th tooka squad of about thirty men and they manned the limbers, and amidst aperfect hail of shells and bullets drew the ammunition down to MajorKing, who lost no time in firing it point blank into the Germans thatwere advancing on Kersselaere cross roads. They were mowed down inheaps by the shrapnel. The German advance was stopped at this pointand the gun was later taken out safely. 

Throughout the battle no Canadian guns were lost. 

As usual with the morning sun, there came from the east two largeGerman aeroplanes with the ominous black crosses on their stiffoutspread wings. They flew low and seemed particularly interested inour breakfast bill of fare. The warning whistle was blown as theyapproached and everyone lay down in the trenches as still as death. The Germans seemed to satisfy themselves that there was nothing in ourtrenches, for after they returned to their own lines they stoppedshelling the church and graveyard close by which up till then had beentheir favorite target. When they stopped shelling the church andgraveyard the scene was dreadful. The walls of the church and rafterswere torn to pieces. But it was the cemetery that presented the mostgrewsome sight. Graves, ancient and modern, were torn open and coffinsand corpses were strewn in all directions. Our dead had beendisinterred a second time. I set a party to work under Sergt. Lewis torepair this damage. 

We learned in the morning that some British troops had been sent tothe assistance of our severely pressed left flank. This detachment wasunder the command of Colonel Geddes and consisted of the remnants ofseven mixed battalions from the 27th and 28th divisions that had heldthe southern face of the salient. They were detachments of the 3rdMiddlesex, the 2nd East Kents, the 1st South Lancasters, the 2nd EastYorks, the 9th Royal Scots, the 5th R. Lancasters, the 2nd D. Of C. Light Infantry. The 5th Lancasters and Royal Scots were Territorials, the rest of the detachment were regulars. This brigade went to theassistance of the French remnant left at Pilken, and they helped toreconstitute the line after a gallant charge in which the French andCanadians joined, closing up a gap at this point. 

Along towards noon, Colonel Loomis, who had his headquarters west ofthe village of St. Julien, sent for Captain Alexander. I toldAlexander to take a couple of men with him in case anything happenedto him as the shelling in the village was very heavy. He did so, andwas gone about an hour. He returned alone looking very grave, and Iasked him what was the matter. He told me that on the way out his menhad fallen at his side, killed by a shell. 

About eleven o'clock we noticed very heavy shelling and gas fumesrising in the direction of our front trenches east of Kersselaere. There was a pretty stiff breeze blowing, and shortly after we saw thegas our guns began firing and there was a terrific burst of riflefire. We recognized the "chop" of the Ross rifle and knew that our menwere in action at the extreme angle of the salient. Major Marshalltelephoned me from his headquarters that the Germans were gassing andthat they were following up the gas with an attack. 

I was very anxious but soon learned that the German attack had beenbeaten off, for their artillery as usual began working off their spiteon the farm houses in our rear. I also learned that although theshelling was very heavy we had escaped so far with very fewcasualties. About noon I began to realize that I had not eatenanything since breakfast the previous morning, when my meal had beendisturbed by the German shells and the tragic death of the sentry atour headquarters. Some one handed me a tin of "bully beef, " and Iripped the top off with the trusty hunting knife which had been myfaithful companion on every expedition I had made into the unknownwilds of Canada for the past twenty years, and I finished that tin ofbeef with apologies to "Fray Bentos. "

In the afternoon I started down for the front line of trenches to seehow they were getting along there. Capt. Dansereau accompanied me. Atfirst he insisted that I should not go down into the "devil's corner, "as they called it, and said he would go down and look it over and comeback and report to me. However, when he saw I was determined to go hegot his revolver and insisted on coming along. I bade good-bye toCapt. Alexander and the brave lads that were holding the St. Julienvillage trenches. Many of them would "return to Lochaber no more. "

We made our way down to commandant headquarters. On our way we passedin the rear of the 7th Battalion and noted that the British Columbiansknew how to use their shovels and grubbers. They were busy in spite ofsniping and shell fire fortifying the line of the Poelcapelle Road forsome distance east of the St. Julien and in rear of Kersselaerevillage. Colonel Hart McHarg was there directing the men. When we gotto headquarters we found Major Marshall quite cheerful. LieutenantShoenberger wore his customary grim smile as he told me how our menhad driven back the attacking Germans a few hours before. The Germanshad "gassed" them twice, but the wind was too high and it blew thedeadly fumes over the parapets. The men waited till the Germansemerged from their trenches three or four deep to charge. Then ourwhistles blew, and hundreds of them were cut down and piled on top ofeach other before they broke and ran back to their trenches. Onemachine gun got about 200 of them. 

They told me that Major Kirkcaldy of the 8th Winnipeg Rifles had comeover from their headquarters on the Gravenstafel Ridge to reconnoitre. Orders had come through that after dark the 13th Battalion, whose leftflank was much exposed to enfilade fire from some machine guns, wereto retire, pivoting on our left flank at the Poelcapelle Road andlinking up with the 7th and Buffs. They were to dig in, trenching theline in rear of Kersselaere. Part of the 7th Battalion, which wasvirtually in support of them, were to hook up with our supportingtrenches, thus forming two lines. The orders were that the 48thHighlanders were to hold their original trenches and protect, and the7th were to conform. We were all warned to hold our trenches at allcosts. 

The order to conform and to consolidate, which reached the 7th, sentLieutenant-Colonel McHarg out to reconnoitre his front about fiveo'clock in the afternoon to find out the most favorable place to buildthe parapets. Lieutenant Matheson of the engineers had arrived andLt. -Colonel McHarg, Lieutenant Matheson and Major Odlum proceededdown the slope from their lines towards some ruined houses in theirfront, which they entered, and from the back windows of which theyimmediately saw the enemy lining the hedges not one hundred yardsaway. When they started back uphill the Germans opened fire on themand Colonel McHarg was instantly shot through the stomach. Major Odlummade his way out and sent Captain Gibson, the battalion surgeon, downto attend to the wounds of their commanding officer. Gibson stalkedfearlessly down to where his colonel lay, picked him up, got him underbetter cover and dressed his wounds, and that night after dark theygot him out. There was much gloom and sorrow among the BritishColumbians that night for they all loved their colonel and they knewthat there was very little hope for him. He died the following day atPoperinghe. Thus died one of the bravest of the Canadians, a splendidsoldier, the champion sharpshooter of America, for that matter of theworld. He had always displayed great coolness and daring, and BritishColumbia will always cherish and revere his name. 

 [Illustration: A NARROW ESCAPE A shell entered the tree above these officers' heads, but failed to explode. ]

The command devolved for the time being upon a worthy successor, MajorOdlum. 

At dusk I checked up the casualties over the telephone and I learnedthat we had only a total of forty-seven for the strenuous twenty-fourhours, and that most of these were in the trenches of St. Julien. Lieutenant Vernon Jones and Lieutenant Barwick came along with theirmen, and they helped to take double rations and ammunition to the leftflank company commanded by Major Osborne. They were ordered to closethe rear of the redoubts with sandbags so as to save their men fromenfilade fire which they were sure to get in the morning, as soon asthe enemy had discovered that the 13th had retired to take up a newline. During the attack at noon the 13th had their line pierced at onepoint and a machine gun belonging to the Germans was brought throughand put into position in a farm house surrounded by a moat in the rearof their lines. From this farmhouse the Germans were giving them allkinds of trouble, and it was to relieve this pressure chiefly thatthey were ordered to retire. The suggestion to bomb the Germans outwas not practicable. Our guns were too few to cope with the powerfulGerman artillery, although well served. 

Company Sergeant-Major De Harte came up from the trenches along withthe ration party at eight o'clock and told me the story of the gassingand bombing in the morning. When the Germans sent their gas over thewind was too high and it blew over the top of the trenches. The 48thwaited until it passed over, then as soon as the gas and shellingceased they manned the parapets knowing that an attack was coming. Thewhistle blew and the Ross rifle rang out a deadly hail that tumbledthe Germans in heaps and sent them scurrying like rabbits for shelter. 

The Huns gave us no more trouble during the afternoon and the men wereconfident of their ability to cope with any force that might comeagainst them. Word came through to be sure and hold our trenches atall costs as help was coming. This message was sent direct to thetrench line. Major Osborne asked me what would happen if theammunition ran out. I told him the standing orders of the trencheswere that we must use our side arms. Our standing orders read asfollows:

"All ranks must realize the exact nature of the duty they are calledupon to perform for the moment and must not exceed this duty. Thisduty is to hold the trenches at present handed over to their care atall costs against all comers, and on no account to give up the line. If attacked the men must continue firing and remain at their posts. Ifthe enemy endeavors to rush the parapets the men will use theirbayonets. Any of the enemy who make their way into the trenches mustbe bayonetted. The regiment is provided with ample supports in therear. Any of the enemy who gets beyond our trenches will be taken careof by the supports. Each man must fire low and steadily. "

As the night closed down the heavens were lit with the German flaresand the lurid flashes from their guns. I took a long look over thebattle line and I confess I thought our chances of ever getting outwere very slim. The German flares crossed each other in the heavensbehind us. In our left rear, and all around to the right rear, I couldsee the angry red flashes of the thousands of guns they were directingagainst our devoted defenders. I began counting the batteries, butafter I had reached a hundred I concluded they had enough. Almostevery calibre of gun was being used against us, from the greatseventeen inch Austrian siege mortars they were firing at Ypres andPoperinghe behind us, to the nine, seven, six, five, four andthree-inch high explosive shells that were filling the air with theirfiendish notes. 

Bayonets, brawn and bull-dog courage were all we had to match againstall the resources of chemistry and mechanics of our enemies. Theymight poison us, destroy us or take a bit of the line here and there, but take the city of Ypres--not that summer, not so long as a Canadianarm was left to defend the stricken salient. 

At twelve o'clock that night I checked up my sketch of our positionafter having a bowl of soup in Major Marshall's dugout. The secondbrigade line was untouched. So was the 48th. The 13th were withdrawnfrom their trenches and were digging in along the slope on our leftflank. One company of the Buffs, one of the 5th and two companies ofthe 14th were mixed up in the line here, along with the threecompanies of the 7th that were consolidating their trenches along thePoelcapelle Road towards St. Julien where they linked up with the48th, 13th and 14th Companies of the garrison. From the left flank ofSt. Julien, the 3rd Toronto Regiment, two companies, joined up withthe 10th and 16th at St. Julien Wood. Then came Geddes' BritishBrigade, and on their left the 13th British Brigade underBrigadier-General R. Wanless O'Gowan. This brigade arrived in theafternoon from Hill 60. It was made up of what was left of the tired1st West Kents, 2nd King's Own Borderers, 2nd York Light Infantry, 2ndWest Riding, 9th London, all from the 5th Division that had lost halftheir officers at the crater blown up by Captain Perry. Next came the1st and 4th Canadians, and then the French troops held as far as thecanal. 

There had been little or no change during the day. The honor ofholding the dangerous angle of the great salient at Ypres had fallento the lot of the Canadians. The Red Watch held the danger point, thetoe. It was our duty to hang on and die to the last man until helpcame and the French line was reconstituted as it was when the FrenchTurcos broke before the deadly gas. Like typical Highlanders we werethe "Forlorn Hopes" of the Empire. 

It was away after two o'clock in the morning when the shelling dieddown a bit in our front. I threw myself down in the dugout and fellasleep. I slept with revolver ready and boots on and got in a fewwinks. I was awakened at about a quarter to four by loud talking andthe roar of guns. I jumped up and turned out to get a glimpse of whatwas going on in the trenches in front. I met Capt. Dansereau, who toldme the Germans were again trying to gas the 48th. True enough, in thegrey dawn a heavy yellow pall hung over our trenches and there was asweet pungent smell of chlorine in the air. The two platoons that werein dugouts were at once sent to their stations in the supportingtrenches. Major Marshall and Capt. Dansereau went into the trencheswith them, while Lieutenant Shoenberger and I remained at the dugouttrench at the telephone. There was a slight lull in the cannonadingfor a few minutes, then the German guns began to speak in louder andmore insistent tones. I looked around the salient, shaped like a man'sright foot, of which we were the toe, and hundreds of batteries seemedto be turned on our trenches, both front and supporting. Again andagain salvos of "coal boxes" fell in succession along the parapet. Talk about Neuve Chapelle, we were getting our own back withinterest. All the German batteries were concentrated on our parapetsand the trenches held by our regiment. Pandemonium reigned along thefront line of trenches. The Germans followed up their gasses againwith intense rifle and machine gun fire. Up and down along theparapets of the redoubts the shells kept dropping, throwing up hugepyramids of black smoke fifty feet in the air. These blasts resembledrows of black trees or fountains. How anything could live in thatseething vortex, created by the bursting high explosive shells, is amystery. Many a brave Highlander would see the lone shielings and themisty mountains of Canada no more. All this time the Germans wereindustriously shelling the dugouts and supporting trenches where oursupports were located and along the Gravenstafel Ridge. Huge shellsfell like hail. Those that failed to burst in the air exploded theminute they struck the hard untilled clay of the fallow fields andfragments flew in every direction. One fell on the roadway abouttwenty feet away from me. Two men who were standing under cover of thebroken wall of the windmill crumpled up like green leaves in a forestfire. They were done for. They were giving us a double "curtain offire" as well as the death dealing gasses. 

A piece of the same shell struck Lieutenant Shoenberger, my signallingofficer, who stood close beside me, and he fell. He said never a word, but in a trice had his knife out, cut off his puttee and looked at hisankle. The bone was broken. Before I could give him a hand he had hisfirst aid bandage out and tied up the wound himself. I offered to senda man with him to the dressing station a quarter of a mile back, buthe said he would crawl down on his hands and knees all right and thatevery man would be needed in the trenches. He was quite cool andcollected and did not show any sign of fear. I felt very sorry forhim. 

Nearly a century ago Admiral Lord Cochrane, a man of wonderfulscientific knowledge, advanced a project to the British Government fora terrible and unseen agent which could be used against an enemy, andwhich was so destructive and powerful it would render their armieshelpless. That secret was asphyxiating gas. His plan was on the fieldof battle when the wind was favorable to build large fires with tarand damp straw behind which an attack could be prepared. Then sulphurwas to be thrown on these burning piles so as to produce gas, whichblowing over the enemy would render them helpless. This would notproduce a poisonous gas. It would only be an asphyxiating gas thatwould knock a man out for a while. Still the British had refused touse this secret. 

In 1913 German scientists at the German Headquarters Staff hadexperimented with sulphur, chlorine and bromine fumes. They reportedon sulphur gas: "This gas thus produced acts as an irritant on thelungs and eyes, and thence it is adapted to render the enemy incapableof resistance, but is not poisonous, and in that way its use in war isnot contrary to international right. " They had in view Article 23 ofthe rules of conducting hostilities promulgated by the second HagueConference to which they had subscribed, which specifically prohibits"the use of poisons and poisonous arms" and "the use of arms, projectiles and material destined to produce useless suffering. " TheGermans could have used sulphur gas just as well as chlorine gas, butsulphur was not poisonous, and would not kill; chlorine and brominewould. 

We had just learned that they were using red phosphorus in theirshells, and that any particle of that chemical that got into a woundwould set up gangrene from which hundreds of soldiers died in terribleagony. We had surmised that they were in the habit of dipping theirrifle bullets in red phosphorus solution because where they struck themen's clothing they invariably started even the wool clothing burning. That was the case at St. Julien Wood where, according to the storiesbrought back by the men, they had foully crucified a sergeantbelonging to our brigade on a barn door. He belonged to our bombingsection. 

The sun was shining a red rim on the horizon in the east. The sicklygreen clouds of the gas appeared denser in some places than others. The wind was just right for the infernal curtain that gradually drewover the trenches. The thickest pall was blown against the right ofour line between McGregor's company and the left of the 8th Battalion, where there was an open space protected only by a small trench andbarbed wire. Of those on our right hardly a man was left to tell thetale. 

All those who stuck to the trench and did not use wet bandoliers orhandkerchiefs died. Some tried to get out, only to fall stricken withthe deadly vapor before they had gone many yards. Among these wasLieut. Taylor, an Oxford scholar, one of the best athletes in theFirst Division. He won out of the trench only to die on theGravenstafel Ridge. Company Sergeant-Major Hermitage and his brotherSergeant Hermitage were stricken down also but managed to crawl out. The latter lost the use of his vocal chords for some time. They wereburned with the fatal gas. Lieutenant Mavor, who was in this section, fell, but they managed to get him out before he succumbed. Some of themen fell back to the left to a communicating trench which they heldtill the German infantry attack came when they rallied to the parapetsand drove the Germans out with their bayonets. 

A very dense cloud of gas was directed against the centre of our lineand Captain McLaren was one of the first to fall. Some of his mensucceeded in getting him out. For days his life was despaired of, andhis lungs were scarred for ever. Lieutenant Maxwell Scott, ofAbbotsford, kindred of the great Sir Walter, author of Waverley, oneof the finest officers in our battalion, fell from the effects of thefumes. They succeeded in getting him out also. His life was dispairedof. 

The only thing the soldiers had to stave off the poisonous gas weretheir wet handkerchiefs or wet bandoliers where they happened to havethem. Pads and masks were not then known or issued. 

My lungs were sore for months from the gas we got at the village ofSt. Julien and here, which was a second dose. 

When the German attack came many of the men had fallen. Others weretoo weak to fight, but there were still some left and they counterattacked and drove the Germans out of the trenches with the bayonet. The fighting was very strenuous while it lasted. It was a case of buttor point whichever came handiest. I noticed a number of men stragglingback through on our right and went over to see what was the trouble, thinking that they were retiring without orders. I found, however, they were all badly gassed and wounded so they could be of no furtherhelp. Those who were able to shoot were halted and put into thesupporting trenches, over which the Germans were putting a curtain offire filled with asphyxiating gasses which smelled like ten thousand"camphor balls turned loose, " as one man said, as he turned sick withthe gas and smell. 

When the Germans were driven off they again turned their guns andrifles on the brave few who were hanging on. Captain McGregor wentdown with a wound in the head, but he still kept on using his rifletill a second bullet laid him low. Lieutenant Langmuir, revolver inhand, fell after he had killed eight of the foe. He had more thanevened the score at the head of his platoon. Smith and Macdonaldfought like lions. Again and again they charged the Germans with thebayonet. Lieutenant Bath, a quiet and mild mannered youth, greatlydistinguished himself. Captain McKessock was operating his machineguns like mad. One of the guns he turned over to "Rolly" Carmichael, the tallest man in the regiment, a daredevil who did not know themeaning of fear. With a wound in his shoulder McKessock took one gunout of the forward line, mounted it in rear of a ruin about twohundred feet behind its original position and began ripping holesthrough the German ranks that were appalling. He was finally overcomefrom loss of blood. Major Osborne, badly gassed, fought on with awound in the shoulder till a bullet caught him in the face. He was putinto a communication trench from which he directed his men. 

The line held against the first attack. Although the Germans brokethrough in several places they were driven back and paid a fearfulprice for their daring. 

The gasses rolled to the supporting trenches and made life unbearable. The pungent smell was awful. Shells and rifle fire were forgotten inthe scorching livid breath of the chlorine. Scores of men died wherethey stood. Some tried to crawl away. The bearers brought some outfrom the front line, but when I examined their pulses I found themdead. Poor fellows, their features were distorted and their faceslivid. Blood-tainted froth clung to their lips. Their skins weremottled blue and white. They were a heartbreaking sight to behold. 

Chlorine gas killed! No wonder the poor ignorant Turcos fled. But theindomitable "Red Watch" held on. 

The sun rose from a lurid red sea in the east. It was now daylight andfive German aeroplanes of the Albatross pattern rose in the Germanlines and started boldly across our territory. Our machine guns spokeagainst the flying observer, and I knew that Captain McKessock's gunshad still a few kicks left. The stream of wounded and gassed mencontinued. Many of them could hardly make their way along on theirhands and knees. The gas affected some of them so they did notrecognize anyone. They afterwards fancied they had been in the frontline for days. 

The poisonous gasses affected the brain as well as the lungs. Then werealized the full enormity of the gas attack of the enemy. It was nota gas that would knock a man out that they were giving us, but apoisonous gas that would kill. 

It was half past six o'clock before the German infantry again tried toforce our redoubts. 

The gas, shell fire, enfilading fire and machine gun fire they fanciedhad again done their work, and they ventured out of their trenches andcharged against the centre of our line. They broke through betweensome redoubts in Captain McLaren's line, but the men rallied and drovethem out again with the bayonet. The "chop chop" of the Ross rifletold us that there was still plenty of fight in the front line. 

The Royal Highlanders on our left and the "Buffs" were attacked at thesame time. The German machine guns in the farmhouse were playing havocwith the men in the shallow "dig ins" which they had made the previousnight, but the Highlanders held on like grim death. Shells filled withasphyxiating gas were fired at us, and whole squads of men in thesupporting trenches were wiped out at each salvo, which consistedusually of four huge shells. 

A message from Major Osborne stated that there was a possibility of ashortage of ammunition and he asked for orders and supports. I wassorry to have to tell him that the 48th were to "hold on to the last, and if ammunition gave out to use the bayonet, to hold the redoubts tothe end. If the Germans broke through to drive them out with thebayonet. "

Orders were issued that the wounded were to get first aid, but werenot to be carried out. We needed every rifle and man, and could nolonger spare stretcher bearers. 

Help was expected, but it was just as dangerous to retire as to holdthe forts. We were holding the enemy back and any minute the Britishmight come. 

I do not know whether my message got through to him, but I do knowthat he and his fellow officers carried out the orders. 

The Automatic Colt 45, which all the Canadian officers carried, is agood weapon at close quarters. Its bullet would stop an ox, but thereis a limit to the rounds that can be fired. In a hard close scuffle, there is nothing like a stout rifle and a long sharp bayonet. I pickedone up that had been dropped by a wounded man. It was an excellentweapon, better at close quarters than my claymore. The knowledgelearned in the old Toronto Fencing Club of how to lunge and parry wasto stand me in good stead during that awful morning. The _armeblanche_ is not to be despised, and when you are at it hand to handyou are relieved from shell fire. 

I afterwards gave the rifle to Sergeant Coe, the bravest of manybrave men, who carried it when he fell at the head of his platoon inthe immortal charge on the orchard at Festubert. 

About nine o 'clock the German aeroplanes again came along and tookanother good look at our position. A white flare was dropped over thebit of trench held by Major Marshall, a platoon of forty odd men witha machine gun and crew, that had again and again raked the Germantrenches. About twenty howitzers immediately opened fire on thatunfortunate trench, and how any of them escaped was a mystery, forthey seemed to get the range to a dot. Company Sergeant-Major Vernon, one of my best non-commissioned officers, had his head completelyblown off with a piece of shell. Sergeant Angus Ferguson, veteran ofIndia, Egypt and Africa, was shot in the arm and leg. He was left fordead. Later the diabolical Huns captured him, and on his raising anobjection to having his leg amputated gave him his choice of that orbeing shot. They amputated his leg above the knee without evenadministering an anaesthetic, but he lived to return to Toronto andtell the tale. 

A number of the machine gunners were killed and wounded. LieutenantDansereau, my adjutant, was struck in the head with a piece of shelland everyone thought he was finished. Word was brought to me to thateffect, and I felt as if I had lost my own son. Sergeant Flood of themachine gun section stood by his piece as long as possible, butfinally a shell smashed the mount and this piece of trench becameuntenable. The pitiful remnant of the platoon, now consisting of sevenmen with Major Marshall, had to find a place to the right of thesupporting trenches where they kept on fighting. The Germans hadbroken through on our left and were trying to force our supportingtrenches. 

Major Marshall and the few that were left with him spotted a platoonof the enemy advancing in their front about one hundred feet away, ledby a man who they thought carried a white flag. He wore a blue coatand looked like a French soldier. They thought at first that it was abunch of Turcos or of Germans wanting to surrender. They opened fire, and the man with the white disk turned and started running back andthey saw that the other side of the disk bore the ominous black cross. He was a marker for their artillery. He did not run far. Marshall hada rifle and bayonet and knew how to use them. On our left LieutenantColonel Burland of Montreal took charge of the 14th and fought riflein hand. He greatly distinguished himself. 

All this time a miserable Hun was playing on our trenches from theleft rear with a machine gun. 

Between our forward position and St. Julien, a short distancenorthwest of the Poelcapelle Road, a number of farm buildings had beenseized by the Germans when the Turcos fled the first night, and theyhad placed their Maxims in the upper windows and were trying theirlevel best all the time to get us in the back. 

CHAPTER XXV

ALL THAT WAS LEFT OF THEM

"Look out!" called Lt. -Colonel Burland of Montreal to me. 

"You make the hair stand up on my head. That 'blighter' has followedyou up and down with his machine gun all morning, and it is a mysteryto me how he manages to miss you. "

"Well, you're a machine gunner too, and you know he traverses theMaxim after me by patting it on the cheek. I just step short two pacesand he goes on. "

This answer brought a roar of laughter from the grim warriors in thetrenches. The sorry part of it was that that "blighter" in trying toget me had shot several other men. 

All morning long the Germans had been trying to take St. Julien. TheGerman artillery south of Zonnebeke sent a storm of shell, raking therear of the trenches held by our troops from end to end with highexplosives. In front of the trenches machine guns hidden in barns andhouses ripped the top of the parapets of the hastily-formed trenchesheld by the Toronto Regiment. 

Here Lieutenant "Bill" Jarvis of Toronto died the death of a hero. Medland, another of the Toronto boys much loved by his men, was hit. They were in a trench that was very much exposed which formed theconnecting link between the battalion which held the wood north ofbrigade headquarters and the line of the 3rd Brigade before St. Julien. 

"Bill" Jarvis, as he was affectionately known by all ranks in hisbattalion, had been struck the day before with splinters of shrapnelin the ankle. He was not disabled, and instead of going to thehospital he tied his emergency bandage over his wounds and "carriedon. " With a half dozen men he was ordered to clear a bunch of Germansnipers out of a house. When he got there he had only one man left, but the job was done and thoroughly done at that. Fearless to a fault, up and down the line he went during the night of Friday and Saturdaymorning. He was cut across the chest with a fragment of shell and hada bullet wound through his shoulder, still he refused to leave. Finally he sat down in his trench never to rise again. During thenight he had carried a number of wounded to the dressing station butneglected to have his own wounds dressed. He fought as gallantly ashis ancestors fought at Chippewa and Lundy's lane. A stern sense ofduty kept him in the trenches when he should have been in thehospital. He gave his life for others. There was mourning among thesailing fraternity in Toronto, and Ridley College, Canada, half mastedits flag in memory of the famous Cadet Captain who gave his life sofreely on the Plains of Flanders. 

All day long the tide of battle surged back and forward along thefront line of trenches. Dearly the Germans were made to pay for everyfoot of frontage. Again and again they charged and were driven back. Then the hell of shell fire would be redoubled and preparation madefor a fresh attack. With only a few guns in support it was verydifficult to hold our own. When would the supporting troops andartillery come? For two days and two nights we had fought against oddsof at least ten to one in men and fifty to one in artillery. Thetragic monotony of it all was awful, but the honor of the Empirerested in our hands and it was our duty to play the game to the lastman. Every few moments the shell fire and machine guns of the enemywould claim a victim. 

Two brave men, Sergeant Coe and Private M. J. O'Connor, signallers, went into the machine gun trench, which was on our extreme left behinda hedge, to bring out Captain Dansereau's body. I also told them tobring back any papers which were left in the shelled and ruineddugout. Through the hurricane of shot and shell that tore the earth upin all directions they made their way. When they returned they toldme that the bit of trench was almost filled with dead but they couldnot find my adjutant. When they went to the dugout to get my papersthey found it wrecked and the maps and papers gone. Then I knew thatmy adjutant must have recovered consciousness sufficiently to get mypapers, among them some maps, and that he must have got out, badlywounded as he was. He was the fourth officer of my staff to bewounded, and Major Marshall and Dr. MacKenzie were the only two leftof our headquarters staff. 

Early that morning while we were in the midst of some very strenuousfighting a message came down from headquarters to the effect that ithad been reported that the "48th Battalion had been gassed andcompelled to retire. " The "fusser" and liar lives even on thebattlefield. This story had been told by some runaway to give anexcuse for his own cowardice. 

I sent a message back that this report was untrue. Our telephone linesand telephone station had been blown up by a "coal box, " so we had todepend upon runners to get messages through. One of these, Pte. M. R. Kerr, later on sent me a message from the hospital to the effect thathe had taken a message through for me but had been struck by a shellon his way back with the receipt and had to be taken to the hospital. He apologised for not returning to report the message delivered. Irecommend him for the D. C. M. 

The left flank sections of the 8th had been gassed when the Germanstried to get through between that battalion and ours. Some of theirsupports had come to their assistance and had driven the enemy backand reconstituted the line. They were supported by a remnant of thegallant 10th. In the early morning of Saturday this undauntedbattalion had been withdrawn from St. Julien Wood where they hadearned undying glory. After rallying about two hundred and seventy menthey marched down to our assistance but were diverted to our right. Weheard shortly after noon through runners that two battalions ofBritish troops, the Yorks and Durhams, were on their way down toassist us in a counter attack, but these corps did not arrive untillater in the afternoon. They were raw troops only out that day fromEngland. In coming down to Fortuyn they came in open order and theGerman "curtain of fire" took heavy toll. 

 [Illustration: Map of the BATTLE OF ST JULIAN April 22nd May 4th 1915. Position April 30th 7 A. M. THE SALIENT FLATTENED]

After the first attack the Germans settled down to a steady diet ofshelling and machine gun fire. I noticed men coming back to bothflanks of our supporting trenches, so I went over to rally them andput those that were not incapacitated in with the few of our platoonsthat were left. In the rear of the right flank of the 7th I saw somemen gathered behind a ruined house at a place we called Enfiladedcrossroads and went over to see who they were. The moment I steppedout of my trench a German machine gunner got after me and I could hearthe "swish swish" of the bullets a few feet in front of me. I realizedthat death was very near, so I stepped short and let him get his rangea little ahead of me. His gun followed me for a hundred yards. I foundCaptain Victor Currie there trying to get the wounded away from thedressing station. Major Odlum, with a few of the remnant of the brave7th, came along. Some of his men who were gassed were coming back andhe was getting a trifle alarmed about his front companies as the enemywere launching attack after attack on St. Julien on his left. I toldhim to tell his companies to hang on till the last on the left and atthe same time to take all the stragglers and put them into thetrenches in rear of his left company as support. The ground on hisright which I had crossed was badly enfiladed. Lieut. -Colonel Burlandcame along, having put all the men he could muster into our supportingtrenches. He had been struck on the chest with a spent fragment of a"coal box" which had bowled him over, but he was still full of fight. When I started back across the Kerrserlaere Zonnebeke road for ourtrenches a short distance east, a devilish machine gun again got afterme and followed me to the shelter of the dugout in which a number ofthe wounded had been placed. As I entered the door of the dugout halfa dozen bullets pattered on the timber prop of the low doorway not afoot from my head. After seeing to the comfort of the wounded Istarted back along the trench, and my old friend the "German gunner"again took a crack at me. He certainly had it in for me that day. Hecaught a sergeant of the Royal Montreals a few feet away from me andhe fell, shot in the spine. But a Merciful hand protected me. My hourhad not come. 

The companies of the 13th, 14th and 7th on our left were hanging onto their trenches like demons. The men in our forward trenches, subjected to a torrent of shot and shell after driving the enemy backand losing half their number, were still fighting valiantly. From asap at the rim of the ridge I could see our torn trenches stilloccupied by a few intrepid men. I could hear the "chop chop" of therifles as they drove off the Germans, who had now resorted to openformation to try and win our forward trench. Six ranks deep the Germanmarines had come on to take our trenches. We did not know at firstthat we were opposed to the German Navy but we were. The marines hadbeen brought down from the fleet to take our trenches and see somefighting. They paid a good price for their curiosity. One of ourmachine guns is credited with putting over four hundred of them out ofbusiness. 

Behind the German position I could see the fields filled with greatmasses of troops formed up ready to be launched against us. God helpthe heroes that day in the forward lines! Few of them would return toToronto or the green plains of Canada. I did not know then that theGerman Emperor was standing on the slope behind Poelcapelle watchinghis hosts trying to break through the thin Canadian line. Every timethe foe fell back discomfited they turned the full fury of theirthousands of guns on our front line. Volleys of shells fell in rapidsuccession along the thin French parapets. One would think that nohuman creature could live in the tremendous blasts and the showers ofsteel fragments from the high explosive shells that flew screamingthrough the air in every direction like mad things. 

But the bond of an iron discipline still held the Canadians, not asound came from the tortured trenches. When the guns were turned uponthe parapets and a perfect deluge of bullets would rip through thesandbags and send the clay clattering down the osiers of the hurdlesand willow gabions, there would come no response from the Canadiantrenches, not a shot would be fired. Plucking up courage the Huns, with much hesitation, would emerge from their "funk holes, " as ourmen called their trenches, port arms and start across the "devil'sstrip, " hoping that the whirlwind of shells had despatched the last ofthe "white devils" from Canada. But no! They would only make about tenyards when the "warning whistles" of the dauntless Canadians wouldsound, and then the roar of rapid fire would rise. It was not for idlepastime our men had practised night and day with dummy cartridgesgoing through the motions of loading and firing. The attacking lineswould fall in whole sections, in many cases one bullet killing two orthree men. The rifle fire of the Canadian marksmen was exceedinglydeadly. Every bullet found a billet. Groans and cries from the dyingand wounded Germans would reach us. We could hear distinctly thehoarse shouts of their officers as they ordered "Vorwarts, Vorwarts, Schneller, " while the poor unfortunate privates dismayed by the deadlyblast would groan "nein, nein. " Then we would hear "Wir sollen Ihrlehren Ihre Canadian Schwein! Uns Neuve Chapelle, zu sagen. " "We'llteach you Canadian swine to boast about Neuve Chapelle. "

Then like one man they would turn and dash madly back to theirparapets, leaving the trampled clay of the devil's strip heaped withwrithing figures of wounded and dead. 

Again and again we scanned the fields in the direction of Fortuyn tosee if help was coming. If this process of attrition continued muchlonger there would be no front line. Meanwhile the German gunssearched every foot of ground behind the crest of the Gravenstafelridge. Every inch of ground that could afford a particle ofprotection, or was not quite visible, was torn to pieces with their"hi-ex" shells. 

"Why are they throwing away so much good ammunition?" my men would askme. 

I knew but did not say anything. On account of the brave way in whichour forward lines were fighting, the Germans fancied we had thousandsof men in support. If they only knew they could have steam-rolleredus. It is part of the game of war to impose on the enemy and we werecarrying out that tradition. It was the biggest bluff Canada everplayed. 

About noon the Germans began blowing the troops out of the trenches onthe right of our supports. I went down again with Lieut. ColonelBurland to the enfiladed crossroads to see what troops were there, andto learn if any word had come through from headquarters. I stopped atthe field dressing station and ordered them to get the wounded away asquickly as possible as the enemy were shelling their quarters, evidently with the intention of destroying them. I met Major D. M. Ormond of the 10th who had retired some of the men on his left. He wasasked to put his men back into the trenches below the crest of theridge and hang on. He wanted us to go back with him but that wasimpossible. He was under the orders of the 2nd Brigade. I told him todirect any of his men who were slightly wounded, but still able tofight, to a line of trenches east of Hennebeke Creek, my idea beingthat the Germans were having such a tough time with the forward linesthat as long as they suspected the crest was held they would not comeon. Any troops seen going back to the crest would be taken forreinforcements. I knew that there must be an observation station notfar from the German "machine gunner" that was following me and thatthis station would warn the enemy in our front that we still held theridge in considerable strength. 

This theory proved to be correct, for the supporting trenches thenheld by us on the ridge were taken over and held by the British troopsfor days afterwards. 

It was late in the afternoon when the din and rifle fire in our fronttrenches ceased. Not a man came back, so I knew that every one hadstood to his post until overwhelmed. About the same time, fiveo'clock, a blood-stained order reached me to retire the remnant to theDivisional Reserve trenches. By this time the relieving troops couldbe seen advancing in open order a short distance away. The Germanswere still attacking the line held by the Seventh on our left alongthe Poelcapelle road. I watched them attack in open order at aboutthree paces interval through a turnip field, the officer followingbehind with a drawn sword. Every time they reached the margin of theturnip patch, which had not been dug up and which was producing aperfect miniature forest of seed shoots, our guns and the 7th rifleswould open on them and they would run back for cover. Again and againthey persisted until finally the artillery ceased to fire. 

As ordered I sent Major Marshall back to the headquarters trencheswith what was left of the supporting platoons, some seventy men, andtaking several scouts with me we endeavored to convey the order toretire along the line of front trenches. We were fired on and three ofmy scouts were hit. It will be remembered that the forward lineextended about a thousand yards and consisted of a series of redoubts. 

A wounded man told us that the redoubts at the east of the line, whichhad been surrounded by hordes of Saxons and marines for a long time, had been rushed when the ammunition ran out. Our men fought to the endwith their bayonets. 

The scouts sent down to the right were fired upon and only one of themreturned. The Germans fired on Sergeant Coe and myself and tried tointercept us, but some of them would not intercept anybody any more. We got away with whole skins. Not a man or an officer in the redoubtsremained unwounded when they were taken prisoner. Those who were nothit had been weakened with gas. It is no disgrace to be wounded andtaken prisoner in a rear guard action. 

Help was now coming in some strength and the situation was saved. Icould see battalion after battalion coming down the Fortuyn road inextended order, and I knew that in a short time there would be anadvance of these troops north-easterly towards the Poelcapelle road, closing the dangerous space held by the remnant of the 7th Battalionand taking over our supporting trenches and the crest of the gap alongthe Gravenstafel ridge to the 8th Batt. 

The first troops to arrive were the Suffolks and the 12th LondonRegiment. A few German sharpshooters had crawled through the forwardlines and were firing from the crest in two places. On our left thevaliant 13th fought in their shallow fire trenches to the last man. Two companies of the 7th hung on to their trenches at the Poelcapelleroad until they were overwhelmed by the onrush of Prussians, Saxonsand Marine battalions that surrounded them on all sides. The companyof "Buffs" that was in support behind the extreme right of the 13thwas wiped out. I sent runner after runner along the front trenches butthey were fired on and two of them failed to return. I could stillhear the row and fighting in front of St. Julien, and the machine gunswere going fiercely. I was the last man back. I had borne a charmedlife all day, and certainly had a lot to be thankful for. 

As we started out for St. Julien I sent some runners ahead of me tonotify Captains Alexander and Cory to break off and retire to generalheadquarters line of trenches as soon as the British troops took overfrom them. The messengers came back and reported that the village wasin the possession of the enemy and that they had been fired upon. Onlyan hour before I had received a message from Captain Alexander tellingme that they were having a pretty tough time, that they were glad toknow that I was still safe and that help would be very welcome. 

We made several attempts to get into St. Julien but found the Germansheld it in considerable force. It was some days later that we learnedthat Alexander and Cory and a devoted few had held on to the trenchesat the northeast angle of the village, although surrounded all thatnight and part of the next day, Sunday. 

On Sunday morning the British troops about daylight launched an attackto recover St. Julien. Four battalions, the Royal Irish Fusiliers, theDublin Fusiliers, the Seaforth Highlanders and the Warwicks, with theNorthumberland brigade in support, tried to retake the village. Theyfound the remnant of the garrison very much alive in the northwestcorner although surrounded by the Germans. They, however, failed tocarry the village and save the Canadian garrison. 

The 48th had suffered terrible losses along with the other battalionsof the 3rd Brigade. The question may be asked why did we hang on. Whydid not the Canadians retire when they found the Germans were in suchforce and determined to take their trenches? Instead they stuck totheir redoubts and did not budge. They fought back to back whensurrounded and refused to give up, driving the enemy back scores oftimes, until only about 100 of the 800 in our forward trenches wereable to raise a rifle. They had lived up to the best traditions of aHighland Regiment. Had we retired, or had the corps at the angle whichconnected us retired, Canada would have been disgraced forever. 

General Alderson, a couple of weeks later, after he had reviewed thewhole situation answered all critics by issuing a general order to allthe Canadians from which I quote. 

"I think it is possible that you do not, all of you, quite realizethat if we had retired on the evening of the 22nd April, when ourAllies fell back before the gas and left our left flank quite open, the whole of the 27th and 28th Divisions would probably have been cutoff, certainly they would not have got away a gun or a vehicle of anykind and probably not more than half the infantry. This is what ourCommander-in-Chief meant when he telegraphed as he did that 'TheCanadians had saved the situation. ' My lads, if ever men had a rightto be proud in this world you have. 

"I know my military history pretty well, and I cannot think of aninstance, especially when the cleverness and determination of theenemy is taken into account, in which troops were placed in such adifficult position. Nor can I think of an instance in which so muchdepended on the standing fast of one division. 

"You will remember the last time I spoke to you, just before you wentinto the trenches at Sailly, now over two months ago, I told you aboutmy old regiment, the E. West Kents, having gained a reputation fornot budging from their trenches, no matter how heavily they wereattacked. I said I was quite sure that in a short time the Army outhere would be saying the same of you. I little thought, we none of usthought, how soon those words would come true. But now here, to-day, not only the Army here, but all Canada, all England and all the Empireare saying it of you. "

The Canadians held their trenches like the West Kents. The Germanpapers subsequently said that they (the Canadians) fought till theirammunition was gone, then they fought with their bayonets, and stillunconquerable they died in the trenches they had dug. Every writer onthis battle has given them unstinted praise. 

The manner in which they held their trenches fighting to the last withsmall groups of men, taught a new lesson in tactics to the Allieswhich later on bore fruit at Verdun. 

CHAPTER XXVI

DIGGING IN WITH GENERAL SNOW

"Kar-r-umph!!! Bang!! Puff!!

"Kar-r-umph!!! Bang!! Puff!!

"Kar-r-umph!!! Bang!! Puff!!

"Guess the Germans are handing us the wrong bill of fare this morning. Coffee and iron rations, " said Sergeant Coe as he bent over and took alook into the tin basin on the Flemish stove in the kitchen of one ofour billets, where we were both striving to get hot water for sometea. 

Three "coal boxes" had landed in succession in the upper storey of thehouse with a great rattle of tile, and as each one exploded huge puffsof black smoke and cinders flew out of the cracks in the stove, turning the water in the basin into a black decoction not unlikecoffee. 

We started a fresh fire. Sergeant Coe calmly remarked that lightningnever struck twice in the same place. He was right. 

Major Marshall had met me at dusk, in the rear of St. Julien villageto tell me that he had sent the men into headquarter trenches atWiltje under Sergeant "Jock" Thomson, and that he could not find outanything about Captains Alexander and Cory. 

No officer in the division was more conscientious in his work and dutythan Captain Alexander. Every man in his company worshipped him. Hewas absolutely fearless and always wore a pleasant smile when thedanger was greatest. For his gallant defence of St. Julien, on myrecommendation he was subsequently decorated with the Military Cross, although he had been made a prisoner of war. Capt. Cory, also on myrecommendation, got his promotion to major. 

On the way out I had passed a number of British regiments in extendedorder advancing to try to restore the lines for which we had foughtso dearly. Seeing them going forward under shell fire in extendedorder told me at once they were green troops. When I reached Fortuyn Isaw a battery of our artillery loaded and hooked up in the shelter ofsome farm buildings ready to withdraw. 

I was then sent for to report to a British Aide-de-Camp in a "dugout"what the situation at Gravenstafel Ridge was. I told him briefly thatmy front trenches had been blown up, that I had retired all that wasleft of my supports, --some seventy all told, --on orders from CanadianHeadquarters, --and that the British troops could easily make good oursupporting trenches below the crest of the ridge without anydifficulty. 

After this I left the "report centre" and was passing through aterritorial regiment which was advancing in open order when a mancalled out from the ranks, "Is that you, Colonel Currie?" I recognizedhim at once, and he asked me how his brother was. I knew them bothwell in Canada. I was sorry to have to tell him that his brother, whowas with my regiment, was missing, either dead, wounded or a prisoner. He told me he had been rejected in Canada for being undersized andthat he had gone to England and joined a territorial regiment. Theirbattalion had only just arrived from England and they were gettingtheir baptism of fire. Truly the world is very small. 

It was dusk when Major Marshall and I got back and we could not locateour contingent among the mixed units that were snatching a wink ofsleep in the reserve trenches. We had partaken of very little foodourselves for about forty-eight hours, so we found our way back to ourold billets in the outskirts of Ypres to get some bully beef andbiscuits. 

The shelling still continued. Every minute a shell would break closeby and pieces would rattle against the wall of the house. I arrangedthat Major Marshall was to go in the morning and gather up the men inthe reserve trenches and get them together, while I went to look upany stragglers in the city and send them forward. I was also to findthe transport, which had been shelled out of their quarters at Ypres, and arranged with them to send food to us that evening. I then wrappedmyself in my cloak and fell asleep on the floor to the weird sound ofthe German shells passing overhead. 

The next day was Sunday, but no peal of bells was heard that morningcalling the worshippers to early mass in the churches at Ypres. Thecivil population had fled. If there were bells ringing their noteswere drowned by the fierce explosives that were following each otherthrough the crooked streets in rapid succession. When old Vaubanfashioned the moats and ramparts he never imagined they would bebombarded with seventeen inch shells from guns that had a range oftwenty-four miles. 

I was up by four o'clock. Major Marshall snatched a hasty breakfastand started so as to be in the trenches when the men "stood to. " Coe, my signallers, and runners, all that were left of them, tried to getsome breakfast when we were interrupted by the "coal boxes" justreferred to. We persisted, however, and finally got the tea. Then wesallied out to see if any of our strays or wounded had reached Ypres. 

We found that our transports and quartermaster stores had been prettybadly smashed up, and that what was left of them had been moved backabout a quarter of a mile from the canal. It was absolutely necessarythat they should refit at once and get rations down to us that night, so we went up to the stone bridge on the canal which we had crossed sogaily a few days before with ribbons and tartans flying. 

From a couple of sentries that had been left at the lock by theirregiments when they marched into action, we were informed that a fewof our men who were slightly "gassed" had gone back to the transports. I made my way back, leaving the guard on the bridge. At the transportheadquarters I found some thirty-five men who had been partiallygassed. They were sent back to the headquarters trenches. 

I learned that our division had been badly cut up, but that theCanadians were given credit for having saved the situation. 

Our transport and quartermaster stores and baggage had been terriblyshelled in their quarters at Ypres. On the way out a shell hadexploded in front of our mess-cart occupied by Captain Mabee, thepaymaster, and had killed the horse and smashed the rig. The gas fumeshad overcome the plucky paymaster and he had to be sent to thehospital. 

What had happened to Major MacKenzie, our surgeon, no one seemed toknow. The last seen of him he was giving aid to stricken men in ahouse in the outskirts of St. Julien. We afterwards learned that fortwelve days and nights he had served in the forward dressing station. Three times he had been shelled at the dressing station. The annals ofthe British medical service can show no better service, heroism ordevotion to duty. He was the soul of honor and efficiency. 

As soon as I had finished reorganizing what was left of the transportand given instructions about rationing I went down to the headquartersline of trenches. The arrangements made for the rationing of ourremnant kept the brigade from starving. Capt. Duguid drew doublerations for 1, 000 men every day and sent them in to us every night byby-paths and by mule pack. 

My battalion got these rations. Sergeant-Major "Soldier Grant" hadbeen badly wounded in the leg, and Quartermaster Sergeant Keith, avery brave and well-trained soldier, took his place. Keith had left anexcellent position in Canada and a wife and several small children tofollow the pipes. He had fought in the Camerons in Egypt and SouthAfrica and was a splendid soldier. 

Lieutenant Frank Gibson, son of Sir John Gibson of Hamilton, Canada, was in the clearing hospital at Poperinghe suffering from a wound inhis leg, which it will be remembered he received at Ypres, when heheard from some of our wounded men that the battalion had been badlycut up and the officers gone. He left his cot, evaded the surgeonsand came down five miles to the transports. Nothing would do but hemust accompany me back to the trenches. Never did a young man showgreater devotion to duty and forgetfulness of self than did Lieut. Frank Gibson. I asked him if he felt able to take over the duties ofadjutant and signalling officer and he immediately consented to do so. He was one of six graduates of the Royal Military College that heldcommands in our battalion. He later lost his life at Givenchy. CaptainPerry, although badly shaken with the gas and the terrific explosionsand fighting at Hill 60, insisted also on accompanying me. Weproceeded to the trenches which ran in front of the headquarters ofthe 3rd Brigade, but owing to the fact that this line was subject tothe most intense rifle and cannon fire all day it was very difficultfor us to assemble the scattered Highlanders. 

During the day the Germans bombarded the headquarters of GeneralTurner, V. C. , of our brigade close by. Huge shells fell in the house, and the shock from the explosion and the effects of the gas hadknocked out Staff Captain Pope. The gasses acted on him, and manyothers, like chloroform, so that for a time he lost his reasoningpower and appeared to be delirious. He had to be carried away. CaptainHarold Macdonald, one of the staff captains of our brigade, was struckwith pieces of shell and narrowly escaped with his life. He wasliterally filled with splinters. One in the cheek, one in the eye, onein the shoulder, the right lung and in the neck. His wounds weredressed by Captain Scrimger of the 14th Battalion. They managed withconsiderable difficulty to get him out of the burning building, andfor this action Scrimger won his V. C. 

General Turner, V. C. , and Lt. -Colonel Garnet Hughes had to move theirheadquarters to a dugout close to the burning building. They had clungtenaciously to this building which was in the fighting area and onlyabout six hundred yards south of St. Julien Wood. General Turner hadborne the brunt of the fighting from the evening of the 22nd. He hadnot had a moment's rest night or day, all the troops along the brokensection having been placed under his command. 

On Sunday evening General Alderson was superseded by General Plumer. 

At dusk we succeeded in gathering together most of our men that wereabout brigade headquarters. Major Marshall had a detachment in thetrenches south of the storm-swept St. Julien Wood at Wiltje. When wereached the much-shelled village we found General Hull in charge andColonel Burland and Colonel Loomis in a house on the north side of theroad waiting for orders. The Third Brigade Sergeant-Major soon broughtorders to the effect that the remnant of the 3rd Brigade was to marchout by way of La Bryke. 

During the morning and afternoon a number of attacks had been launchedby the British against the village of St. Julien. The stalwart Irishand Highland Regiments had forced their way a number of times into theblood-soaked streets of the village, only to be driven out again witha murderous machine gun and howitzer fire. There was not much of theplace left. Every house had been set on fire and the pavements were ashambles. Highlanders, Irish Fusiliers, Canadians and Huns had foughtit out in the crooked streets hand to hand. As the shades of eveningfell over the scene the German still held his ground, but ourartillery had come up in increasing numbers and were raining deadlygusts of shrapnel over the tile and pavements, making it impossiblefor any creature to live in the place. 

We learned that fragments of the 2nd Canadian Brigade still held theirtrenches near Gravenstafel Ridge, that the valiant Suffolks were stillin part of our supporting trenches, and that the Hun had made noprogress along the line of the Poelcapelle Road east of St. Julien. The Red Watch had not held in vain. The Hun was just as far away fromYpres and Calais as ever. 

We waited until long after midnight for General Turner, V. C. , and hisstaff, and when they did not appear we decided something must havehappened to them. Silently in Indian file the brigade slipped quietlythrough Wieltje, led by one of my signallers, Sergeant Calder, whoknew every hedge, ditch and by-way in the Ypres salient. It had beenthe custom, and a good one, with our signallers, as soon as we gotinto a new area to bicycle and walk all over it so that they couldreadily find their way about in the dark. Sergeant Calder took us asstraight as a gunbarrel across fields and ditches to the stone roadthat ran from the unfortunate headquarters of the 3rd Brigade which wecould still see was a lurid mass of flames in the distance. We gaveGeneral Turner and Col. Hughes up for lost. 

Along each hedge we passed we were halted by English "Tommies" who, busy as moles, were digging in. The Germans would find that a toughcrop had grown up during the night in the shell-stricken field of theYpres salient. 

Every minute or so there would be a burst of rifle fire along theGerman lines. They were beginning to show "nerves" and signs ofexhaustion. They had paid a terrific price so far for the fewblood-soaked acres they had won. 

As we reached La Bryke we met at the crossroads two British staffofficers on horseback who wanted to know the way to Wieltje andGeneral Hull's Headquarters there. One of them was Brigadier-GeneralRiddell, who was killed a few hours later not far from St. Julien atthe head of the brave Northumberland Brigade. He was shot through thehead while personally conducting an attack to recover St. Julien. 

When we reached La Bryke we found that Captain Duguid, ourquartermaster, had fortunately brought down double rations for acomplete battalion. This enabled us to ration the whole brigade. Hehad done the same thing on the Friday night previous. The transportsof the other battalions had been all shot up, but Captain Duguid hadused mules as pack animals. We waited for several hours for orders andthe General did not turn up. The Brigade Sergeant-Major, who hadbrought us his orders, said he would remain at La Bryke and notify theGeneral if he should come while we went back to the transport to spendthe few hours of darkness left. It was necessary for us to go throughand past the bridges over the canal before daylight, otherwise wewould be spotted by aeroplanes and shelled. 

It was dawn when the tired battalions made their way into the field inwhich all that was left of the transports of the four battalions waspacked. They had hot soup ready and it was a case of bivouac on thegreen grass with the heavens as a blanket. 

Very soon afterwards General Turner, V. C. , and Lt. -Colonel Hughes, hisstaff officer, arrived. They both warmly congratulated me on stickingit out at the hot corner. General Turner, V. C. , told me that theCanadians had been given credit for saving the situation, and that mybattalion, though it had been almost wiped out, had not died in vain. He was completely worn out, so I gave him and his officers a placeunder a piece of tarpaulin after they had had something to eat. Theyhad not had any rest or sleep since Thursday morning, and in a fewminutes everyone was fast asleep except the transport men. 

I had not been in the Land of Nod half an hour when I was roused bythe trample of a horse and the voice of a horseman enquiring for me. Iwas up in an instant and found a staff officer looking for GeneralTurner. I refused at first to awaken him unless the matter was urgent, but when I was assured that it was, I roused him and he opened hismessage. It was an order to take the brigade back immediately to LaBryke to go into support of the Lahore division under General Snow, which was to attack that afternoon together with some French troops. 

The men were all dead tired and sound asleep on the ground. They hadnot had any sleep since the previous Thursday night, and now they wereto be roused to go at it again, digging in with General Snow. 

 [Illustration: THE MUSTER OF THE 48TH HIGHLANDERS AFTER BATTLE OF ST. JULIEN--212 OUT OF 1, 034]

Rations and ammunitions were issued and off we started. We crossed theYperlee Canal by a foot bridge and climbed the steep slope once moreinto the deadly salient. As we passed down to the bridges in Indianfile several of our men were struck by shrapnel bullets. When wecrossed over the canal we were led to the west of La Brique and haltedin a ditch, where we promptly dug in. The Indian guns were in front ofus. About an hour after, just as we were well dug in, we were againmoved further east and put in behind some hedges and some more Indianbatteries. Again we dug in, making a good job of it. The troops infront of us were apparently attacking and the din of the shell andrifle fire became terrific. We all thought we would be at it again ina few minutes, and the men began tightening up their puttees andlooking to their rifles and ammunition. Some began eating theirrations, for as one poor fellow said they might as well enjoy thembecause they might not need any more after a few minutes. 

The attack in our front died away and pretty soon another order cameand we started down behind hedges and ditches back to Wiltje. TheGermans were shelling the village for all they were worth and thechurch was burning, so we gave it a wide berth and slipped in behindthe village and proceeded to dig in again. Every few minutes the Hunswould start shelling Wiltje and we would come into their "Zone ofinfluence. " The shells that missed the roofs of the houses from thenorth would pitch over into our lines and we had to duck and count tenwhen we heard them coming. 

While we were being jolly well shelled in these trenches an incidentoccurred which was of extraordinary interest. I remember reading whenI was a boy how at the siege of Toulon, while Napoleon was dictating amessage to a young soldier named Lannes a British shell struck theparapet and threw sand all over them and also on the written message. The writer coolly shook the sand off the paper, remarking that theywould not need any sand to blot the ink. This soldier showed suchbravery that he subsequently became a Marshal of the Empire. Thatafternoon after we were dug in I was dictating a message to SergeantVenner of my signalling staff who had his telephone in a "dig in"alongside of mine. He was half way through when a big "coal box" shellexploded a few feet away emitting a terrible stench, a cross betweenmarsh gas and camphor balls. 

The smell was overpowering. Venner dropped his pencil and clapped hishands to his face saying, "Wait a minute, Colonel, the smell of thatshell makes my head ache. " I looked at him and saw he had turned verypale. Looking more closely I noticed blood trickling down the side ofhis face between his fingers. I snatched his Glengarry off his headand sure enough a jagged piece of shell had cut through the Glengarryand ripped a gash in his scalp about two inches long. 

I pulled the piece of steel out and said, "No wonder the shell makesyour head ache! You are wounded. "

In a trice I had my scissors out, and cutting the hair away from thewound I put some iodine into the cut, Corporal Pyke, his assistant, helped to bind Sergeant Venner's wound with his first aid bandage. After he was fixed up he pulled out his book to finish the message, but I ordered him to clear out and go back to the dressing station. Tomy amazement he dissented. 

"Not a bit of it, sir, " he boldly replied, for the first time in hislife disobeying my orders. 

"Go on, sir, please, and finish the message. " "I am all right. "

I was so surprised that I finished the message and he stoutly refusedto go to the hospital and worked on the signal wires till thebattalion was permanently relieved a week or so later. I recommendedhim for a decoration, also a few other brave officers and men who didnot get them. 

CHAPTER XXVII

TWELVE GLORIOUS DAYS

"They've got me in the back, Colonel! My poor wife and children!"

This was the startled exclamation of one of my men who occupied a"digin" about ten feet from mine. He turned pale. 

The Germans were shelling us with high explosive shells from the northrim of the salient. Huge "coal boxes, " coming from the direction ofPilken, were falling in the village of Wiltje on our front. With atwang like a giant steel bow a shrapnel shell had burst overhead. Theyhad commenced to spray us in the back with shrapnel from the directionof Hill 60, and one of the bullets that pattered like hail on our clayparapets had struck him. 

I had ordered all the men to keep on their overcoats, as the stoutwoollen cloth of the Canadian great coats will stop the Germanshrapnel bullets and a lot of high explosive splinters, Americanexperts to the contrary. The thick overcoat and the pack is the nextbest thing to a coat of mail. 

Sergeant Lewis and I jumped out and pulled him out on to the banquetteof his trench and in a minute had the overcoat and jacket off him. Hisshirt followed and there, sunk into the flesh of his back about halfan inch from his spine and almost half an inch deep, was the blackshrapnel bullet. I picked it out with my pen-knife and handed it tohim with a silent prayer of thanksgiving. 

"There's the bullet. You're worth a dozen dead men yet, " I said. 

The look of relief on his face was worth seeing. 

"Will you let me have the bullet as a souvenir?" I asked. 

"Yes, Colonel. "

He was not the only man relieved. 

We dressed the wound with iodine and put a pad and a piece of plasterover it. He put on his clothes and I told him to go back to thedressing station, but he refused and kept on fighting. 

We held the narrow trenches all afternoon and evening. Fierce fightingwas going on all around us and we spent a very disagreeable night dugin in Mother earth. 

My men endeavored in every way possible to make me comfortable. Sergt. Coe requisitioned a long bolster pillow from a ruined estament inWiltje for me to sleep on. Another man brought in a few fresh eggsthat some Flemish hens had laid in a henhouse in the outskirts of thevillage. The occupants of Wiltje had all disappeared. Some of themwere dead in their cellars, which were not proof against the highexplosive shells. 

Towards dawn in spite of the lurid glare of bursting shells and theroaring of the flames in the burning houses, the Flemish roosterscrowed lustily, typifying the Belgian as well as the French nation. 

Dawn came at last but it brought no cessation of the terribleartillery fire. The fighting along the line to the north stillcontinued. The British troops were holding their own and dealing lustyblows at the enemy. 

This was the situation as outlined by Corporal Pyke, one of mysignalling staff who had gone away to the right to see what was goingon in the old "hot corner. " A British Division had taken up thesupporting trenches of the 2nd Canadian Brigade along the crest of theGravenstafel Ridge. They had our supporting trenches east of HennebekeCreek along the Kerrselaer Zonnebeke highway to the ruined houses atEnfiladed crossroads where I had met Captain Victor Currie and theofficers of the 7th and 8th Battalions. 

The 2nd Brigade, all that was left of them, had been kept hard at itin this section and were still in reserve behind the 28th Division. The line of the 28th Division ran thus from Gravenstafel to Fortuyn, which was still held by us, and along west to where the headquarterstrenches crossed the St. Julien-Ypres Road at Vanenberghem, fromthence almost due west to a part of the Yperlee Canal near Zwaante. The east bank of the canal was held by the French and Belgians. TheGermans had crossed the canal the night of the 22nd at Lizerne and hadbeen driven back at the point of the bayonet by our allies. 

Strung along from Gravenstafel Ridge in the following order were thefollowing British Battalions: The Hants, the Rifle Brigade, the 12thLondon, the Suffolks, the Northumberland Fusiliers, five battalions, the 5th Durhams, the Somersets, the E. Yorks, the Yorkshire, twobattalions, two battalions of Yorks and Durhams, the 5th S. Lancasters, the 1st R. Lancasters, the Lancaster Fusiliers, the Essex, the 1st Irish, the Monmouths, the 2nd West Riding, the London, theRoyal Kents. 

General Hull commanded the 1st R. Warwicks, the 2nd SeaforthHighlanders, the 1st and 2nd Fusiliers, the 2nd Dublin Fusiliers, the7th Argyle and Sutherland Highlanders. 

Colonel Geddes' detachment held the line from our old generalheadquarters to where they linked up with the French troops who werecoming up in some strength. The 1st Canadian Brigade was back west ofthe canal, protecting Brielen, while our brigade was again south ofWieltje. 

All the Canadian troops had fought with great valor and had lost overhalf the effectives of each battalion. It was my misfortune that Icould not chronicle the many deeds of individual bravery performed bymy countrymen. I could only describe what was taking place in my ownvicinity and in my own corps. 

The shelling continued all day of the 27th. There was a chilly windblowing but the sun shone very brightly. I had a fairly comfortablesection of trench and tried to snatch a wink of sleep in the bottom ofit during the afternoon. I had not been sleeping long when GeneralTurner, V. C. , our brigadier, came up and I made room for himalongside of me. His dugout a couple of hundred yards in the rear ofus had been hit several times by German shells and he had a verynarrow escape. When he jumped in alongside of me he picked up severalspent splinters of shell that had fallen on my greatcoat as I slept. He laughingly remarked that everybody said I bore a charmed life andthe shells never bothered me, so as his dugout had become untenable hehad come up where he could find a quiet "restful" place. 

He informed me that since the battle began on the 22nd he had seen andsustained more rifle and shell fire than had been his lot during thewhole South African campaign. He and his hardworking chief, Lt. -Colonel Hughes, had not had any rest since the previous Thursday. 

Sergt. Coe made the General comfortable in the bottom of the trenchbeside me, and in a few minutes he was sound asleep with the shellsstill beating their infernal tatoo in the heavens over us. 

A number of French troops had come up and so had the gallant LahoreDivision consisting of Indian troops, and they had attacked theGermans and driven them back some distance towards Pilken. 

No jauntier soldier ever trode the plains of Flanders than the braveGhurkas. Short and swarthy with that peculiar elastic step and wellset-up figure which can only be obtained by a rigorous course ofphysical setting up drill of the old style with "thumbs behind theseams of the trousers, " the Ghurkas are in a class by themselves. Their battalions are led by pipe bands. The weird music of theHighland Glens seems to have the same potency with the IndianHighlanders that it has with the Scottish and Canadian. In a charge atclose quarters the Ghurka uses a peculiar shaped knife with a blade asheavy as a butcher's cleaver and keen as a razor. Like the HighlandPipers who play

 "Mo dhith mo dhith gun tri lamhan Da laimh 'sa phiob 's laimh 'sa chlaidheamh. "

 "My loss, my loss, without three hands Two for my pipes and one for my sword, "

the Ghurka bewails his great loss, also that he has not three hands, two for the pipes and one for his "crookie. "

That evening orders came through that we were to march out again andwe followed the old line along the hedges and ditches back to ourtransport. We found that our transport had been moved further back toa field on the Ypres Poperinghe Road to avoid shelling. We were allthoroughly done out when we arrived and we had a good sleep. 

Next morning we had roll call and counted our losses. It was thesaddest moment in the history of our regiment. 

The "roll call" showed killed, wounded and missing, seventeen officersand six hundred and seventy-four men, a fearful total of six hundredand ninety-one out of a battalion of nine hundred and twelveeffectives. Seven officers and one hundred and fifty-seven men, all ofthem gassed and wounded, were taken prisoners. The rest had paid theprice of Empire. As the wounded I had sometimes pitied had alwayssaid, "That is what we came here for, " but it was very hard to bereconciled to the loss of the flower of the regiment. Of all ourofficers only Major Marshall and myself were left unhurt. How weescaped the Lord alone knows. His mercy was very great. How jealous wehad all been of the lives of the men. What care we had all bestowed ontheir drill, their discipline, their health and equipment. We were alla happy family, no quarrelling, no disputes either among the officersor men. Everyone tried to live up to the best traditions of the oldHighland Regiments that oftentimes went through campaigns without acrime. When we reached France not a dozen men in the battalion hadentries on their conduct sheets. We all fondly hoped that ourefficiency, our courage and power would be reserved for some great daywhen we would march triumphantly through the German trenches, chargingwith our bayonets and clearing the road to Brussels, the Rhine, andBerlin. 

But our day came differently to what we expected. Still we did ourduty. Had we come to grief through any blunder or fault of mine or anyof our officers there might have been cause for regret andheartburnings. Our orders were very simple--to hold the trenches atall costs until relieved. We carried out these orders and held theline. When finally ordered out we left nearly four hundred dead in thetrenches. 

Often during our days and marches in Flanders, in admiration of themen of my regiment and the other gallant men of the First CanadianDivision, there would recur to me the words spoken at St. Helene byNapoleon of the men of the Army of Italy:

"Another libeller says that I conquered Italy with a few thousandgalley slaves. Now the fact is that probably so fine an army never hadexisted before. More than half of them were men of education, the sonsof merchants, of lawyers, of physicians, of the better order of farmerand _bourgeoise_. Two thirds of them knew how to write and werecapable of being made officers. Indeed in the regiment it would havepuzzled me to decide who were the most deserving subjects, or who bestmerited promotion, as they were all so good. Oh! that all my armieshad been the same. "

A new form of "casualty" had been written into the records of thehospitals and dressing stations, "suffering from" and "died of gaspoisoning. "

If there is a law of compensation which evens up injustice, if thereis an avenging Deity, then the German nation is doomed to die and beforgotten. Cowardly methods of attack will ultimately sap the vigorand courage of their men, and they will curse the day when their rulerwrote them into the history of the ages as a race of cowardlypoisoners, unfit even to stand alongside of the Red Indians or thesavages of the Soudan. 

The tortures inflicted by savages of burning and flaying alive are notcomparable to the torture of burning lungs with tissues seared as witha red hot iron. The agony which often ended in gangrene of the lungswas worse than a thousand deaths from pneumonia and the suffering isvery long drawn out. 

I know whereof I speak as to the torture of scorched lungs, and mycase, I am thankful to say, was not as severe as many of them. 

On the 28th all the Canadians were west of the canal having a littlerest which was enlivened constantly by salvos of high explosive shellssent by the Germans into our vicinity. Every village and farm buildingfor miles back were being shelled. 

In the evening we were ordered to prepare to go back into actionagain. We started out at dusk and followed the familiar paths backdown to the engineers' pontoon bridge and then along up the highway inthe rear of La Bryke. We were shelled and several men hit withshrapnel while we waited for some transports to get out of our way onthe west side of the canal. 

When we got to the east and began climbing the slope we were haltedagain while a battery passed us on the way out. The battery lookedvery weird against the skyline as they came down the roadway andpassed us. The feet of their horses and the waggon wheels weremuffled, and they appeared for all the world like the ghostly horsemenout of some old world tale. 

We met some English soldiers who told us that the gallant Col. Geddes, who had taken charge of this section and whose corps was the first tocome to our aid as we were trying to stop the first mad onrush of theGermans, had been killed in the morning by a shell that entered hisheadquarters. 

We turned to the left and steered straight north to a point in supportof the French troops who were in position on the east bank of theCanal opposite Brielen. Further along the road we found sometransports and a French Battery stuck. A huge German shell had fallenin the road at this point and blown a crater in which a good sizedhouse could easily have hidden. The hedge had to be cut to allow of apassage, and it took some engineering to get this tangle straightenedout. After a little manoeuvring we found our trenches, and as theGermans began shelling the highway immediately in our rear, followingthe transport waggons along the road, it did not take us long to digin. Some one remarked that the Germans have underground telephonesalong the roadways. 

That morning our base company, under Captain Musgrove and LieutenantMuir, reached us. A few days later at Festubert Musgrove was to losean arm and Lieutenant Muir was to be killed. They were full of gingerand cheered us up considerably. 

During the night we consolidated our trenches. The shelling continuedall the next day. Thousands of French troops continued to arrive andit looked very much as if a general offensive was going to beorganized against the Germans on our front. 

On the evening of the 29th we moved into trenches at Number FourPontoon Bridge and remained there until the 4th of May. Day and nightthe shelling continued. Many stirring and some even humorous incidentsoccurred during these twelve glorious days of fighting. 

CHAPTER XXVIII

WINNING ANOTHER CHAMPIONSHIP

"Jump down into the trench quick, Colonel! That shell may explode, "called Captain Musgrove. 

"What shell?" I enquired, as I had not heard any "whispering Willy"arriving, but something seemed to have covered my clothes suddenlywith mud and splinters of wood and bark. 

"Look up over your head. It is a wonder it did not stun you. Andplease do move out of there for a while at least, for fear it may bestill alive. "

I glanced up at the pollard willow over head, against which I had beenleaning to steady my field glasses as I watched our artillery "strafe"the Germans who were attacking the Ghurkas. Captain Musgrove stood bymy side when the shell arrived. It struck the hard red clay abouttwelve feet directly in front of me, plowed up the earth about threefeet and turning upwards entered the tree directly over my head. Theshell, which was a large one from a four-inch howitzer, entered thewillow bole, burying itself in the soft wood all but about half aninch of the base. 

These shells are fused with what are called detonating fuses thatburst when the shell touches anything. It should have exploded when itstruck the ground in front of us. If it had we would have had aboutone chance in a thousand. Again, when it struck the tree it shouldhave blown up. The "kickback" would have certainly killed or woundedus both. But a Merciful Providence caused that shell not to function. 

I climbed down into the trench. Next day when the Germans werequieter, Colonel Leckie photographed us. It was a marvellous escape. 

On the evening of the 29th we had moved a short distance to our leftand again dug in in four lines in rear of the French and as guard overPontoon Bridge No. 4. The canal here passed north between high banksand a schooner, that had doubtless plied between the North Sea portsand Ypres, had been sunk in the middle of the canal and furnished apier for the bridge which the engineers had perfected. 

Along the banks of the canal were shelters and places where previoustroops had "dug in" and the place looked like a huge rabbit warren. 

Our batteries were in action along the banks and they were veryskilfully hidden. I looked them up and found some old friends fromOttawa, Lieut. Colonel Morrison, the commandant, amongst them. 

We had tried to preserve the Belgian buildings in the same conditionas we found them as much as possible, but since the Germans weresetting fire to all the barns with thatched roofs we decided to annexsome straw from the roofs to put in the bottom of our trenches. 

The trenches in our front were being unmercifully shelled by theGermans all the time, and about three times a day the Germans and theFrench would exchange front trenches. Divisions of French troops keptcoming up. They carried on in the most casual way. The cooks took soupdown to the front line trenches in broad day. They did not seem tocare for shot or shell. 

The French always moved in single file with men about three yardsdistance. We learned to like and admire them. They are great soldiers. 

The Germans would shell the French troops out of their trenches andthen charge and take the low parapets which the French built. After ashort rest the French would fix their terrible long four-corneredbayonets which they call there knitting needles, charge the enemy andrecover their parapets again. This game of see-saw went on for severaldays. 

The second morning we were at the bridge a handsome well set-upFrench officer came past our lines and stopped to chat. He wore thegold medal of honor given by the Czar which he had won a few weekspreviously for conspicuous bravery. He was very proud of it. We allenvied him his good luck. He went on up to the front line. About anhour later he passed us again, lying in an ambulance hand cart veryseverely wounded. Poor fellow, he was in a bad way but still cheerful. 

When the Germans got tired shelling the French they would start in andgive it to us. Three and four shells would follow in close succession. They would search up and down the fields and hedges with their gunsshowering shells on everything within their range. 

The gallant 16th Canadian Scottish were dug in about fifty yards infront of us. Colonel Leckie was in a dugout at the extreme left, andalongside of him was another dugout in which were some of his staff. Alarge German shell fell in the staff dugout during the night, completely obliterating all traces of four men who were sleeping in itat the time. A part of Lt. -Colonel Leckie's dugout was torn off at thesame time and he had a very narrow escape. 

The same night while I was dozing in my "digin" I was awakened byheavy breathing on my right as if a man was dying. It was pitch dark, so I called the sentry and told him some one was hurt. 

Sergeant Miller, who was close at hand, jumped up and with an electrictorch we started to search the line to find out who was wounded. Inthe second digin on my right we found Corporal Kells very nearly gone. A large five-inch shell had fallen in his "digin, " slicing a largepiece of flesh off the calf of his leg and stunning him. Fortunatelythe shell had not exploded. He had almost bled to death when thepeculiar heavy breathing of a man suffering from bleeding attracted myattention. We bound him up and had him taken back to the dressingstation. He subsequently died from the shock. 

One morning about daylight I was wakened in my narrow cell by a lotof earth tumbling down on my face. I fancied a shell had fallen on myparapet, and after clearing the dirt out of my eyes and ears I layawake listening to the seventeen-inch Austrian batteries which wereshelling some place very heavily. The guns were apparently in aposition not far from Pilken. I could hear the "Kerr-Rump" of fourguns of a battery firing in rapid succession, then a pause, and Icould hear the huge projectiles go roaring on their deadly missiontill the sound ceased. I waited for the report so I could count thetime to find out how far away they were ranging, but I noticed a verystrange thing. I could hear no report from the explosion of the shell. Evidently it was falling too far away for me to hear it. A few dayslater we learned that they had been shelling Dunkirk, some twenty-oddmiles away. 

The second day we were at the bridge, the Germans were searchingdiligently for us with their shells when I was called to the telephonewhich was located in the next hole in the ground to mine. I foundCorporal Pyke in charge of my wire. Pyke was a brave cheerful lad, asplendid operator and telephone expert. He was thoroughly posted inwireless work and used to rig up an attachment to our telephone bymeans of which he could read all the wireless messages that came overthe wires from the ships of the Navy in the Channel to the navalbatteries that were working behind our lines which were called theAdmiral Churchill batteries. If there were any German wireless men inthe neighborhood they could also get these messages. Pyke could hearthe Germans working on their lines but could not get their code. 

As I hopped over to see who wanted me, and crawled into the telephonehole in the ground a shell came whizzing past and ripped the earthfrom the parapet about a foot above Pyke's head. He never even ducked, but quite coolly remarked as he shook the dust off, "That sod israther thin, Colonel. I guess it was only about six inches. "

The urgent message that I was called to take was something to theeffect that clean socks, underclothes and a bath would be ready for mybattalion at a certain date. 

I told headquarters to cut out commercial messages for a few days. 

Our batteries were earning a great reputation for themselves. Theywere posted on the bank of the canal and alongside of them were someof the batteries of the Indian Division. Our guns were in action oneevening when the major of one of the Indian batteries came alonginspecting his observation wires. He watched the drivers of one of ourbatteries (Morrison's) take a limber of ammunition up to its gunsthrough a perfect hailstorm of shells. He remarked to me that theCanadian gunners were magnificent, and that they did not have sixdrivers in the Indian Army that were as well trained and as good attheir work as the Canadian boys who were driving the limber we werelooking at. That was a high compliment from a regular officer as theIndian army knows its trade. 

On the afternoon of the 28th, while the Germans were trying to destroythe Canadian batteries with heavy seventeen-inch shells, a Germanaeroplane came along flying low to check up the big gun practise. Wewere getting very tired of these German visitors so I ordered mybattalion to fire on the flyer, using one thousand elevation andleading the birdman about five times his own length. In a few minuteswe had the satisfaction of seeing him turn back with a tail of firestreaming from his gasoline tank. We had got his tank and he was onfire and trying hard to make the German lines. He fell in our linesand the aviator and observer were made prisoners. 

Aeroplane activity in that section ceased for a time. The fighting, however, never let up night or day. 

On the evening of May 2nd we were ordered to co-operate with Britishtroops in our right who were heavily attacked with gas. There was adull, heavy atmosphere and everything seemed favorable for the Germanpoison plan. Our guns, however, were ready and they opened a fiercebombardment with shrapnel over the German trenches. It was here theshell incident described at the beginning of the chapter happened. Agentle shower came which dissipated the gas. Three times theirinfantry climbed out of their trenches and started to charge acrossthe space intervening between the lines. The iron voices of thebursting shells blended into one note as the deadly spray of leadswept entire sections of them away. There was little left for therifle fire to do. 

The attack was beaten off easily. The German offensive for the momentwas weakening. They had never fully recovered from the terriblepunishment they had received during the first three days from theCanadians. They realized that a new element was barring the way toCalais and victory. 

Canada had won many championships on the fields of sport, science, artand mechanics, and now another championship had been won on a sternerfield, the field of battle in historic Flanders. 

CHAPTER XXIX

AN APPRECIATION OF VALOR

During the night of the 3rd and 4th of May our brigade was withdrawnfrom the salient and marched to a bivouac west of the Chateau TroisTowers in which our Divisional Headquarters were located all throughthe battle. 

As we marched through the park the day was breaking and the birds weresinging more sweetly than I had ever heard them before, even inCanada. They did not feel any more pleased than the few that were leftof the gallant "Red Watch" and the other battalions of the ThirdCanadian Brigade. 

The larks were now beginning to build their nests, and strange to saythey did not pay the slightest attention to the shelling. The lark wenoticed several times would continue to soar and sing higher andhigher, intoxicated with the joy of his own song until he came in theway of an exploding shell. Then the beautiful song would be cut shortand all that would be left of the spring-time chorister would be abunch of feathers in the field or on the roadway. 

We stayed a day in bivouac and enjoyed a good rest. About noon GeneralPlumer, under whose command we had fought the last days of the battle, came to see us to console us for our losses and to congratulate usupon our stand during the trying hours of the 22nd, 23rd and 24th. Hissympathy and kindness will never be forgotten by the men who survivedthe terrible struggle that ended the great German drive and springoffensive of 1915. 

That night we started for Bailleul and made a long, tiresome marchalong the stone roads. The night was dark as pitch, but we made goodtime and got to our billets at daybreak. 

That afternoon General Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien came to see us at ourbillets. He warmly congratulated me on the action at St. Julien andexpressed much regret that so many good men were lost. At Cassel hehad told us that the Canadians had brought him good luck in SouthAfrica, and he felt sure they would distinguish themselves again underhis command. His prophecy had come true. Nothing will destroy theconfidence of the Canadian troops in the Chief of the Second Army. Thehope expressed by every Canadian soldier who fought under him was thathe would be their leader when they won their way across the Rhine. 

The people throughout the Empire gave every evidence of theirappreciation of the conduct of the Canadians. The press was loud inour praises and His Majesty the King was graciously pleased to sendthe following message to Field Marshal His Royal Highness the Duke ofConnaught;

 "Congratulate you most warmly on the splendid and gallant way in which the Canadian Division fought during the last two days north of Ypres. Sir John French says their conduct was magnificent throughout. The Dominion will be justly proud. "

 "George"

His Royal Highness the Duke of Connaught then sent the followingmessage to the Minister of Militia for Canada:

 "Canada has every reason to be proud of the gallantry of her sons who have nobly done their part in this great struggle for the liberties and honor of our Empire against the tyranny and injustice of Germany. 

 "As an English officer, I am proud of our Canadian comrades and feel that they have brought honor to the British Army as well as themselves, and that their heroic work will thrill the Dominion from the Atlantic to the Pacific. 

 "I deeply lament the long list of casualties and send our profound sympathy to every home which is plunged into sadness and sorrow by the tidings that reach us from hour to hour. 

 "Assuring you again of my heartfelt sympathy for the relations of all those Canadian officers, non-commissioned officers and men who fell so nobly on the field of battle. I am, "(Signed) Arthur. "

It has been impossible to describe the part the British troops playedin this historic action which lasted over twelve days. Their valor wasbeyond question. This story deals with the Canadians and their Britishbrothers did not begrudge them any glory which they may have received. The story of the British troops and their part in the fight will nodoubt be written. I can testify to their incomparable valor. Bravermen than those from London, Durham, Northumberland, and other parts ofEngland who fought alongside of us never lived. 

With reference to our comrades from the Indian Empire having foughtalongside of them and seen their wounded and their dead, I can testifyto their spirit of loyalty, their unquestioned bravery and all thequalities that are to be found in great soldiers. 

The Empire contains no better men than the men of the Lahore Divisionand more particularly the Sir Hind Brigade, whose deeds have shedundying lustre upon the British Army. The lie factories that have beenestablished by German gold, even in the heart of the Empire, haveendeavored to cast doubt upon the relative value of the Indian troopsand the troops from other parts of the Empire. There was no truth inthese stories. The army in Flanders was equally good all round. 

With a national system of military service, such as they have inFrance, there would be no qualms of patriotic consciences at home, andfewer lie factories. 

The Canadians can also bear witness to the splendid conduct of theFrench troops and the French nation. Our conception of the Frenchpeople derived from books, chiefly novels of a questionable nature, are entirely wrong. The French soldier is cool and intrepid and they"carry on" their work without the slightest "fuss. " The pose of thenation is an inspiration and speaks of solidarity and resolve. 

Many of our preconceived notions of them were shattered. The men andwomen in all classes of the French people are kind, industrious, verymoral and deeply religious. They are not at all like the hystericalneurotic creatures of the yellow French novels. 

France is the most democratic country in the world. Far more so thanthe United States or Canada where in most cases every family tries toestablish a peculiar cast, a special creed and a select circle ofsociety all its own. 

France has a national system of military service and every young manwhen he comes of military age has to learn the trade of soldiering, starting in the ranks. He does not begin his soldiering by being anhonorary general. He reaches the commission rank by study andattention to his duties, not by having friends at Court. 

Some people foolishly confound National Service with conscription. They are not the same at all. Where a country has conscription aportion of the population is liable to be drafted compulsorily intothe army. When men are needed each parish or community is called uponto provide so many men, whether they know anything of military dutiesor not. The mayor or head of the community puts all the names of theeligibles into a hat. The required number are drawn by ballot and aresupposed to go to war, --but seldom do. One of the beauties ofconscription is that if you have the money you can buy a substitute. Conscription is the product of a very old form of civilization, for ifin China, for instance, you are conscripted to be hung or be beheaded, you are at liberty to hire a substitute. Conscription thus bears veryheavily on the poor, while the idle rich can always escape service. 

With national service, rich and poor, prince, priest and pauper haveto serve alike without exemption. When the nation is at war, everyman, woman and child in it is at war. The males are divided intocategories, and those who have youth and no responsibility have toserve in the first line. The only son of a widow, and the father of anumerous small family does not have to leave them to the mercy ofpublic charity and "Patriotic Funds" and go into the front line tofight. There is a place for everybody. 

The nation is mobilized and everybody knows that if a man is leftbehind at the counter, in the mill, or on the farm that it is soordered, and that that is his place in the service of the State. Thepeople who have experienced this form of service despise thevolunteering system, first, because it bears unjustly on the brave andpatriotic, and, secondly, because a paid soldier they say is a manhired to kill. 

I asked the mother of a handsome lad of seventeen at one of ourbillets near Cassel when she asked me if the war was likely tocontinue another year, if she regretted if her boy might have toserve. 

"Oh, no, sir, " she said. "I fully realized from the first day that Irocked him in his cradle that he would have to fight for France. I amresigned and proud to give two sons for France. "

That is the spirit of the French people, calm indomitable andpersevering. The spirit that endures to the end and will prevail. 

CHAPTER XXX

WANTED. MORE AND MORE OF THEM

When General Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien came to see me he suggested thatI should take a few weeks' rest in England. I objected and said Iwanted to be in the big British spring drive in Belgium. He repliedthat a few days' holidays would not deprive me of that honor, and thathe considered the Allies might postpone the offensive until theautumn. 

I accepted his suggestion and crossed to England. I met at Bologne anofficer of one of the Scottish regiments and he was good enough to getme a pass and a military automobile to take me to La Toquet Hospital, where I renewed old acquaintances with Dr. Shillington, the cleversurgeon in charge of the Canadian Hospital there and an old Ottawafriend. When I arrived in London I was notified to attend a medicalboard at the war office that insisted on giving me three months' sickleave to get my lungs fixed up. I refused to accept more than sixweeks. 

When I was up in Scotland enjoying a holiday and doing the Loch Lomondcountry, I received a telegram from Colonel Carson in London tellingme that the Minister of Militia would like me to return to Canada fora few months to lecture to the officers in training and assist inrecruiting. 

In accordance with these instructions I returned to London where Ireceived the following letter from my Brigade Commander, GeneralTurner, V. C. :

 DEAR COLONEL, --Leave has been extended for four days as requested. 

 The process of reorganizing is a heavy one. 

 Your battalion will have lost its identity as the 48th Highlanders. 

 In forwarding recommendation for "Mention in Despatches" it has given me great pleasure including your name for the valuable services rendered at St. Julien. 

 According to medical officers and my own opinion you are entitled to a good rest or suitable staff employment. 

 You have done more than called for as a regimental officer. 

 With best wishes, believe me, Yours Sincerely, R. E. W. TURNER. 

The list of honors for the second battle of Ypres was out and my namehad been omitted. I had, however, received notice at the same timethat I had been advanced to the rank of full Colonel. 

I was pleased, however, to see that Major Marshall, my second incommand whom I had recommended for "mention in despatches, " hadreceived a D. S. O. He was a professional soldier and this meant muchmore to him than it did to me. He was later to fall in the front linetrenches the victim of a German sniper. A great athlete, a splendidsoldier, a universal favorite, Canada and the Empire could ill sparesuch a man. His solicitude for his men was such that I have known himto give his clothing to some ailing private. He was one of thebravest, truest and kindest of Canadians. 

Only a few of the many deserving ones had received recognition, butwhere there were so many brave men and brave deeds performed it wasvery difficult to give honors and distinction to all. Officers did nomore than the privates, signallers and bombers in the battle. All didtheir best. 

I returned to Canada on board the S. S. Hesperian, which ship had themisfortune to be torpedoed next trip. 

In Canada I did my best to stimulate recruiting. The "Red Watch"recruited two more fully-equipped battalions for the war--the 92nd andthe 134th. 

The story of the brave deeds of the men of 15th Battalion, the RedWatch, after I left Flanders will have to be reserved for a furthervolume. They covered themselves again with glory at Givenchy, Festubert, Hooge and Sanctuary Wood. 

The reader may be inclined to ask the question if through all thesetroublesome times, the Canadian soldier ever lost faith in ultimatevictory and the Empire?

The answer is that we had so many evidences around us of theorganizing power of the Empire that it inspired us with faith andconfidence. We knew what the navy was doing. The splendid manner inwhich we were supplied with food and clothing convinced us that thebusiness genius and talent for organization of the Empire would sooneror later overcome lack of preparation and "red tape. "

The deeds of our gallant Canadian comrades who fell at St. Julien willalways be an inspiration for Canadians in future wars. They have giventheir lives as hostages for the Empire. They did not die in vain forthey have given Canada "a place in the sun. " The First Division lostover nine thousand out of about seventeen thousand effectives, at St. Julien. 

The men who accomplished this were not "rough-necks" nor swaggeringbullies, "muttering strange oaths and bearded like pards. " They weregood, quiet, clean-living, God-fearing young men, the athletic productof the schools and the Y. M. C. A's. They were typical of the Canadianrace. With their red blood they etched the figure of the clean-cutintrepid athletic-fighting Canadian soldier indelibly into the historyof this war. It was this noble figure which the officers of the FirstCanadian Division strove to create. It is this figure that will livein the battle scrolls of Europe. 

It is the duty of Canadians always to cherish this tradition as wellas to maintain their proper place in the world. It matters not underwhat system their services are required, if duty calls they should beprepared to arm and go. They will always be wanted where liberty needsdefending, yes more and more of them. 

INDEX

 NOTE. --In spelling Proper Names, the _Daily Telegraph_ Maps are followed; on the maps in the text, the Belgian spelling is used. 

A

Abercrombie, General, 11. 

Abeele, 185. 

Abraham, Plains of, 13. 

Adams, Jane, 73. 

Aeroplane, 192, 244, 279. 

Africa, South, 19. 

Aid, First, 149. 

Albert, King of the Belgians, 187. 

Alderson, General, 64, 78, 255, 262. 

Alexander, Captain, 169, 198, 214, 219, 228, 230, 231, 234, 257. 

Amesbury, 90. 

Amour, Place d', 195. 

Anti-Aircraft guns, 162. 

Anti-Militarism, 23. 

Archery, Flemish, 162. 

"Archibald the Archer, " 162. 

Armada, Spanish, 60. 

Armentieres, 117, 122, 124, 182, 189. 

Arnold, General, 15. 

Artillery, Canadian, 279. 

Aubers, 155, 170, 172, 174. 

Aviators, 88, 158, 192, 202. 

Avonmouth, 103. 

B

Barham's, Ingoldsby Legend, 75. 

Barwick, Lt. , 40. 

Bath, Lt. , 240. 

Beauvoorde, 184. 

Billets, 144. 

Bigot, Intendant, 40. 

Bisley, 21. 

Bixschoote, 189. 

Bombing, 179. 

Borden, Sir Robert, 30. 

Boyle, Lt. -Col. , 218, 221. 

Brittany, 114. 

British troops, 248. 

Brooke, Lord, 21, 116. 

Burial plots, 186. 

Burland, Lt. -Col. , 95, 245, 249, 252, 262. 

Burstall, Lt. -Col. , 74. 

C

Caestre, 117, 118, 122. 

Calais, Great drive to, 18. 

Calder, Sgt. , 220, 262. 

Camp Fire, 35. 

Campbell, Duncan, of Inverawe, 12. 

Cameras, (tabooed), 64. 

Canada, 11; Capitulation of, 19. 

Canadian, Militia, 18, 30; officers, 38; Northern Ry. , 40; Scottish, 197, 218, 223, 277. 

Canadians, reviewed by Roberts, 74; trains of, 184; wounded, 186; reviewed by the King, 96. 

Cardonnerie, La, 138. 

Cassel, City of, 182. 

Censoring, 177. 

Charteris, Major, 14. 

Chateauguay, 19. 

Chalk Cliffs, 57. 

Clausewitz, 147. 

Clergyman, 38. 

Cloth square, 186. 

Colonial Policy, new, 22; old, 23; troops, 23; privateers, 24; government, 23; political thought, 23. 

Colt, automatic pistol, 49. 

Coe, Sgt. , 243, 246, 253, 257, 268. 

Comet, 55. 

Commons, House of, 35. 

Competition, signalling, 56. 

Connaught, H. R. H. The Duke of, 30, 35, 42, 76, 282. 

Contingent, 29, 37. 

Cornwallis, Lord, 15. 

Cory, Capt. , 219, 228, 229, 234, 257. 

Cosby, Lt. -Col. , 20. 

Crozier, General, 43. 

Cruisers, British, 52. 

Culloden, Battle of, 13. 

Culture, German, 147. 

Currie, Col. J. A. , 20. 

Currie, Capt. Victor, 249. 

D

Daniel, Capt. , 209. 

Dansereau, Lt. , 20, 113, 118, 176, 181, 197, 214, 219, 220, 231, 236, 253, 246. 

Darling, Capt. Clifford, 33, 81, 102, 174, 201. 

Davidson, Lt. -Col. J. I. , 20. 

"Devil Strip, " 138. 

Diary, Author's, 9. 

Diamond, Cape, 46, 48. 

"Digging In, " 136, 179. 

Discipline, 44. 

Donaldson, Capt. , 107. 

Don Station, 39. 

Drake, Sir Francis, 58, 60; His Drum, 60; Island, 60. 

Drummond, Lt. Guy, 201, 213, 226. 

Dug-outs, 137. 

Duguid, Capt. , 102, 201, 217, 260, 263, 264. 

Du Quesne, Fort, 19; Avenue, 146. 

E

Emden, 88. 

Enfer Rue d', 159, 172, 167, 179. 

"Enfiladed Cross Roads, " 249, 268. 

Engineers, Canadian, 177. 

Entrenching tools, 135. 

Equipment, Webb and Oliver, 65. 

Estament, French, 164. 

Estairs, 175. 

Exeter, 66. 

F

Fencibles, Glengarry, 16. 

Ferland, Pte. , 130. 

Fessenden, Lieut, 209. 

Fire Trenches, 137. 

First Aid, 149. 

Fisher-Rowe, Col. , 133. 

Flanders, 117. 

Flares, German, 128, 138. 

Flax, Mills, 133. 

Flemish, 188; Farm, 152; Horses, 152; Stock, 152; Roads, 164. 

Fletre, 123. 

Flying Corps, Royal, 88. 

France, Leaving for, 100; Voyage to, 104; soldiers of, 110; unconquerable, 186; Flying Corps, 197, 211, 750. 

Fraser, Hon. Lt. -Col. P. H. D. , 20. 

French, General Sir John, 116, 126. 

"Frightfulness, " 146. 

Fromelles, 132; Tower destroyed, 160, 165, 174. 

Funk Holes, 128. 

G

Gas, 214, 215, 216, 237, 240, 241, 273, 280. 

Gaspe, 48; transports at, 48, 51. 

Geddes, Col. , 273. 

German, influence, 23; surplus, 163; prisoners, 173; gunners, 180; forced requisitions, 164; snipers, 246; manner, 250. 

Germans declare War, 29. 

Ghurkas, 270. 

Gibson, Sir John, 39. 

Gibson, Lt. Frank, 39, 192, 260, 261. 

Glasgow, 88. 

Grant, Sgt. Major, 44, 67, 79, 81, 226, 260. 

Gravenstafel, 189, 202, 207, 212, 237, 239, 258, 268. 

Grubber, Entrenching tools, 135. 

H

Haig, General Sir Douglas, 148, 158. 

Halifax, 11. 

Hamilton, General Sir Ian, 21. 

Hawkins, Sgt. G. M. , 21. 

Hayling Island, 94. 

Hazebrouck, 114. 

Hendrie, Lt. -Col. Wm. , 20. 

Hennebeke brook, 213. 

Hiex shells, 126. 

Highlanders, (42nd Black Watch), 11, 191, 197, 201. (48th Red Watch); Casualties, 13; volunteers, 30. Trench wars, 242, 233, 234, 225, 241. Fraser's, (Lovats), 13. Montgomery's, (Lost Regiment), 15. Royal Emigrants, 14, 15. Virginia, 15. Carolina, 15. Royal Montreal, 206, 242. 

Hill 60, 175, 190, 191, 192, 195, 198. 

Hoe, The, 60. 

Holt, Lt. , 200. 

Howitzers, 15 in. , 161, 222. 

Hughes, Maj. General Sir Sam, 37. 

Hughes, Lt. -Colonel G. , 201, 215, 217, 261, 264. 

Hull, General, 269. 

Hurdles, 136. 

Hythe Course, 94. 

I

Indian Troops, 283. 

Ingoldsby Legends, 75. 

Iona, 93. 

Irving, Capt. T. C. , 177. 

Islington, Lord, 96. 

J

Jago, Capt. , 227. 

James, Capt. , 48, 51. 

Jarvis, Lieut. "Bill, " 245. 

Julien, Battle of, 12 (See St. Julien). 

Jones, Lieut. Vernon, 233. 

K

Keith, Sgt. Major, 260. 

Kerrserlaere, 229, 231, 249. 

Kilts, 13. 

King, His Majesty George V. , Review of Canadians, 79; 2nd do. 96. 

King, Major, 229. 

Kipling, Rudyard, 86, 165. 

Kitchener, Lord, 77, 78, 96; Army, 80, 177. 

L

La Bassee, 117, 156. 

Lacrosse, 37. 

Lancaster, Lt. , 174. 

Langmuir, Lt. , 204, 210, 240. 

Langemarck, 189. 

Lauder, Sir Thomas Stair Dick, 12. 

Laurier, Sir Wilfrid, 30. 

Lawrence, Sir Joseph, 80. 

Leckie, Col. , 199, 221, 275, 277. 

Levison-Gower, Col. , 124. 

Liege, Siege of, 30. 

Lille, 156. 

Listening Posts, 159. 

Lightfoot, Major, 221. 

Liquor, French regulations, 72. 

Loire, River, 110. 

London, 91. 

Long Branch, 31, 32, 34, 38. 

Loretto Falls, 40. 

Longsword, Wm. , 60. 

Louisburg, 11, 13. 

Loomis, Lt. -Col. , 230. 

Lundy's Lane, 15. 

M

Marne, The, 109. 

Marshall, Major, 20, 66, 67, 104, 107, 108, 122, 125, 191, 197, 200, 205, 214, 231, 235, 243, 247, 250, 253, 257, 258, 262, 271, 287. 

Mavor, Lieut. , 211, 239. 

Medland, 245. 

Megantic, S. S. , 44. 

Meighen, 138, 166, 199, 202. 

Mercer, General, 74. 

Meuse, crossings of, 29. 

Miller, Sgt. , 219, 277. 

Mobilization of Militia, 32. 

Moffatt, Capt. Rev. , 99. 

Monroe, Doctrine, 22. 

Montcalm, 12. 

Montreal, Royal Rgt. Of, 16, 197, 219. 

Moore, Sir John, 33. 

Morden, Lt. -Col. , Grant, 76. 

Mount Pleasant Park, 11. 

Moussey's Corps, 190. 

Mowat, Sir Oliver, 20. 

Muir, Lieut. A. , 274. 

Mull, Island of, 92. 

Musgrove, Capt. , 274, 275. 

Mc and MAC

McBride, Sir Richard, 78. 

Macdonald, Capt. Harold, 261. 

MacDonald, Lieut. Fred, 193, 240. 

MacDonald, Sir John A. , 20. 

MacDonald, Col. , 20. 

MacDougall, Major, 205. 

McGregor, Capt. Archie, 138, 144, 163, 169, 195, 198, 204, 339, 240. 

McHarg, Col. Hart, 218, 232. 

MacKenzie, Major, 66, 144, 175, 197, 247, 260. 

MacKenzie, Dr. , 128, 193. 

McKessock, Capt. , 168, 209, 240. 

McLaren, Capt. , 108, 193, 198, 199, 222, 239, 242. 

N

Napoleon, 181, 272. 

National Service, 9. 

Neuve Chapelle, 155, 165; battle of, 178. 

Newfoundland, 52. 

Norsworthy, Major, 226. 

O

Odlum, Major, 233, 249. 

Ordnance, Canadian, 107. 

Orange, Wm. Of, 66. 

Ormond, Major, 233, 252. 

Osborne, Capt. , 169, 198, 206, 208, 228, 233, 240. 

P

Palliasses, 11. 

Parker, Sir Gilbert, 40. 

Patney, Station, 66. 

Patrolling, 131, 149. 

Perley, Sir George, 77, 96. 

Pettion, Rue, 159. 

Perth, 14. 

Pitt, 13, 25. 

Plumer, General, 262, 281. 

Plymouth, 63. 

Poelcapelle, 206, 219, 250. 

Pownall, Governor, 24. 

Poperinghe, 105. 

Princess Pats, C. L. I. , 101, 169. 

Pultney, General, 119, 123. 

Pyke, Corp. , 266, 268, 278. 

Pyramids, 70. 

Q

Quebec, Embarkation at, 46; Tercentennial, 46, 47. 

R

Rationing in Trenches, 144. 

Rations, Iron, 144. 

Radcliffe, Coy. Sgt. Major, 33, 63. 

Rawlinson, General, 161. 

Rifle, Ross, 142, 231. 

Roberts, Lord, 72, 73, 75, 77, 78, 80. 

Robinson, John Ross, 90. 

Rouen, 63. 

Roulers, 207. 

Routine in Trenches, 144. 

Ryerson, Lt. , 157, 174. 

Ryerson, Capt. George, 226. 

S

Salisbury Plains, 69, 82. 

Sap, 150; Sapper, 150. 

Sarum, 70. 

Scheldt, River, 156. 

Scott, Canon, 43, 120, 159, 166, 191. 

Scott, H. Maxwell, 239. 

Scottish Heather, 11. 

Seely, Col. , M. P. , 98. 

Service, National, 147. 

Shells, stray, 173. 

Sherwood Foresters, 124. 

Shoenberger, Lieut. , 236, 237. 

Sinclair, Lt. Alex. , 33, 195. 

Sing Song, Long Branch, 38; Abeele, 185. 

Smith-Dorrien, General Sir Horace, 116, 123, 182, 183, 282, 286. 

Smith, Lieut. , 209, 240. 

Snipers, 148, 163. 

Snow, General, 264, 265. 

Soudan, 19. 

Standing Orders, tradition, 33, 34. 

Stand to, 140. 

St. Eloi, 189. 

Stevenson, Robt. Louis, 12. 

St. Lawrence trip down, 48. 

St. Julien, 16, 189, 190, 193, 194, 198, 199, 202, 203, 211, 216, 217, 219, 231, 232, 235, 238, 240, 244, 245, 247, 262. 

St. Muir Bac. , 133. 

St. Nazaire, 109. 

Stonehouse, 63. 

Stonehenge, 69, 70, 96. 

Strombeek, 206. 

Sweeny, Major, 34. 

Sylvester, Rev. Father, 131. 

T

Tavistock, 60. 

Tam-O-Shanters, 143. 

Taylor, Lieut. , 199, 210, 211, 239. 

Taylor, Rev. Bishop, 75. 

Tipperary, 64. 

Ticonderoga, 19. 

Toronto Regiment, 214, 235, 245. 

Trenches, 124; Consolidating, 136; description of, 136; Routine, 140; rationing, 141; meals in, 141; Orders, 149; Telephones, 160; Belgium in, 186; Divisional reserve, 253. 

Turner, General, V. C. , 95, 180, 202, 215, 217, 221, 225, 261, 262, 263, 264, 269, 287. 

Turgot, 22. 

Turcos, march, 214, 215, 216, 218, 219, 220, 226. 

V

Valcartier Camp, 26. 

Venner, Sgt. , 266. 

W

War, Seven Years, 23. 

War, The Greatest, 13. 

Warren, Capt. Trumbull, 33, 67, 193, 176, 201. 

Watch Black, 11, 18. 

Watch, Red, (48th Highlanders), casualties, 12, 16, 32, 263, 287. 

Webb equipment, 65. 

Westminster Abbey, 90. 

Williams, Col. Victor, 42. 

Williams-Taylor, Lieut. , 150, 151. 

Winnipeg Batt. (90th), 206. 

Wolfe's Victory, 13, 40. 

Wood, Col. Burchall, 106. 

Wright, Major, 177, 211. 

Y

Ypres, 85, 117, 177; Cloth Hall, 187; Irish Convent, 187; Salient of, 189; Shelling of, 193, 212, 218, 235, 236, 258, 259, 260, 263, 271, 276. 

Yperlee Canal, 189, 214, 269. 

Y. M. C. A. , 37, 53. 

Z

Zillebeke, 190. 

Zonnebeke, 189, 203, 245, 249. 

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 +-----------------------------------------------------------+ | Typographical errors corrected in text: | | | | Page 28: Caesar replaced with Cęsar | | Page 38: Pacificism replaced with Pacifism | | Page 77: "tribute to the Canadians troops that had | | served him in South Africa. " replaced with | | "tribute to the Canadian troops that had | | served him in South Africa. " | | Page 79: gacious replaced with gracious | | Page 81: Sergeat-Major replaced with Sergeant-Major | | Page 91: "feed him till he almost fainted" replaced with | | "fed him till he almost fainted" | | Page 94: quad leaders replaced with squad leaders | | Page 115: seventeeth replaced with seventeenth | | Page 137: trenchs replaced with trenches | | Page 183: offiers replaced with officers | | Page 183: and and replaced with and | | Page 184: Cęstre replaced with Caestre (2 times) | | Page 245: Zoonebec replaced with Zonnebeke | | Page 205: "There efficacy is in their recoil" replaced | | with "Their efficacy is in their recoil" | | Page 233: thir replaced with their | | Page 238: specically replaced with specifically | | Page 239: bondoliers replaced with bandoliers | | Page 240: asyphyxiating replaced with asphyxiating | | Page 241: Chorline replaced with Chlorine | | Page 245: Zonnebec replaced with Zonnebeke | | Page 249: Zonnebec replaced with Zonnebeke | | Page 261: "He later lost his lift at Givenchy. " replaced | | with "He later lost his life at Givenchy. " | | Page 261: Scrimiger replaced with Scrimger | | Page 268: Hennebec replaced with Hennebeke | | Page 268: Zonnebec replaced with Zonnebeke | | Page 276: fyle replaced with file | | Page 278: "for me the hear it" replaced with | | "for me to hear it" | | Page 279: sox replaced with socks | | Page 285: catagories replaced with categories | | Page 287: Yous replaced with Yours | | Page 287: musfortune replaced with misfortune | | Page 287: "recruited two more fully-equipped battalions | | for the wear" replaced with "recruited two more | | fully-equipped battalions for the war" | | Page 289: Intendent replaced with Intendant | | Page 289: Cardonniere replaced with Cardonnerie | | Page 289: Cassells replaced with Cassel | | Page 291: Basse replaced with Bassee | | Page 293: Sweeny replaced with Sweny | | Page 294: Birchall replaced with Burchall | | | | Notes on unusual words: | | | | Page 159: Nervli were the people of Hainault and | | Cambresis in Gaul. Referenced in | | _Plutarch's Lives_. | | Page 216: liquified spelled as in image. | | Page 250: A sap is a narrow trench, normally for | | communication, made by digging at an angle from | | the existing trench. | | Page 289: "Northern Ry. " refers to "Northern Railway" | | | +-----------------------------------------------------------+

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