CANADA
IN KHAKI
The Net Profits of this Publication will go to
the Canadian War Memorials Fund.
Published for the Canadian War Racords Office by
THE NUSSON BOOK COMPANY. LIMITED. TORONTO
The Greatest Work of Reference
upon the World War
HISTORY AND ENCYCLOPAEDIA
OF THE WAR
Magnificently Illustrated 1i>ith Thousands of Photographs direct from the War Areas,
Portraits, Maps and Diagrams.
" * The Times ' Illustrated History of the War " stands in a class by itself. It
is the product of a body of world-famous experts. Written by the writers of
" The Times," men of outstanding ability, each an authority in his own domain,
produced by the World's Greatest Newspaper, and backed by all the forces and
resources of its unique and far-reaching organisation, this History provides a
Work of Reference upon every phase and aspect of the World War, indispensable
to those who wish to follow intelligently the tremendous conflict in which the
destinies of the Empire are being reshaped. Accurate, authoritatively yet
interestingly written, " The Times " History should be given an honoured place
upon the bookshelves of every British home.
Numerous large Coloured Maps specially iraion for this Histor}f are
interspersed amottg the volumes, together with a unique War Atlas
and Gazetteer incorporated into Vol. VI. This Atlas contains 40
new and up-to-iate Maps in Six Colours {to indicate height oj land), and
a complete Reference Index oj near/j; 14,000 Place Names, with
other features that assist in the serious geographical stud}) oj the War.
IN QUARTERLY VOLUMES
at prices varjjrng from 10/6 ($2.50) to £1 ($5.00) per volume,
according to the nature of the binding.
For Complete List of Prices and Full Information, address The Publisher, Printing House Square,
London, E.C.4 ; or The Elarle Company, St. Johns, New Brunswick, Canada.
"Strops Itself"
as well as a
Barber could
strop it.
Perhaps on some occasion you have come across a barber who has given you
' the shave of a lifetime '-close,velvety-a razor touch that was almost a caress.
If so, it was because he was an exceptionally good stropper, and therefore
had an exceptionally keen blade to shave with.
THE
"VALET"
iUitc^Slrop
SafetyBazor
will give you every morning jiut this kind of shave, because
the blade meets the strop at the very angle and with the
very pressure which will give the keenest shaving edge.
Moreover, one blade will Icut for months, or even years.
You may feel that in using the " Valet " AutoStrop you are com-
bining the greatest shaving luxury with the strictest war economy.
It is impossible for any razor to shave properly unless
the edge is renewed by stropping every time ; so the
razor which can be most conveniently and readily
stropped is the one which is needed by the man
with a real beard on his face.
THE STANDARD SET consists o( heavily silver-plated self-
stropping " Valet " Safety Razor, twelve genuine " Valet " blades,
and " Valet " strop ; the whole in handsome leather- 01/
covered or nickel-plated case . ^ xi
Of all hlgh-clai3 Jealera throughout the umrlJ.
THE AUTOSTROP SAFETY RAZOR CO.. LTD.
61. New Oxford Street. London. WC. I.
And also at New York, Piitis, Milan, Sydney, Dublin, Toronto, &c.
B 45
Canada in Khaki.
1^
\
JSn»M«BEasSa«if^ra«K2S:7,-:
Canada.
8th Badge IJrooch.
1 5 ct. Gold £4 0 0
IS ct. ,. es 0 0
Machine GunC^jrp:
BjdRc Hroocli.
Diamijnds .set in P-iUa-
' diunr. .(iold and Klianu'l.
BY APPOINTMENT
Can.iJ.i.
16th Badge Brnoch.
15 ct. Gold £2 7 6
ISct. „ £3 0 0
BiiKicli. r>iaiimiuls-scf
in rallaJiuin.. (;.>KI :uh1
«■- ;j'!n.iincl . ■ ■
'£30 O O.
yewellers
and
Silversmiths
to H.M. the King.
RoyW Flying Corps ,Bail(;e_Biooci
l>iaJnonds set in palladium*. '^Goi
and ICrjauicl..
£65 0 0 ■■
■ . "' . . Ia
?-«k
T
HE Goldsmiths and Silversmiths Company's
Military Badge Jewellery is of highest
quality and workmanship and at the moderate
prices charged is better value than is obtainable
elsewhere. The Badge of any regiment can be
reproduced. A catalogue of Military Jewellery
will be sent post free on application.
eauTioN.
The Goldsmiths & Silversmiths Company have no branch
establishments in Regent Street, Oxford Street, or else-
where in London or abroad — only one address — 112,
Regent Street, London, W.l.
GOLDSMI
Company
THE
s & Silversmith
■wifA vH^ic^ IS ineopporated
• a
112, REGElSrr STREET, LONDON, W.l
^
Picture Offer
To " De Rcszke "
Smokers only
This picture, " Miss America's Offer — Uncle Sam's Best," printed in colours on art paper,
13 in. by 10 in., will be sent free to any smoker forwarding to address below a " De Reszke "
box lid and 2d. in Stamps, mentioning Picture No. JZ. 42 Miniatura Picture* will be seat
free en receipt of reply envelope, ready addressed and stamped (id.). These are reproduc-
tions printed in colours of the famous " De Reszke" Cigarette pictures. Address: J.
Millhofr& Co., Ltd. fDept. 89), 86 liccadilly, I^ndon, W.
Miss tAmericds Off 67' — Uncle Sams 'Best
Your boy at the front may not like to ask
you for them — but cigarettes are everything
to him out there. He is worthy of the best —
so send him some " De Reszke" American.
They are the world's best Virginia Cigarettes
SOLD EVERYWHERE,
or post free from J. Millhoff & Co., Ltd. (Dept. 89), 86 Piccadilly, London, W.
De Reszke
rfie
Aristocrat
°j
CiOarettes
111
p ^
THEROlALMAL
STEAM PACKET Q
(Incorporated by Royal Charter 1839)
MAIL PASSENGEI16CARG0 SERVICES
CANADA AND
WEST INDIES
BERMUDAS BRITISH GUIANA
SOUTH AMERICA
SPAIN PORTUGAL MOROCCO
ATLANTIC ISLES NEW YORK CUBA
PANAMA STRAITS CHINA JAPAN
18 Moor^ate Stred E C T r^NTP^r^M
32 Cockspur Steet sw L vJl N UvJi N
^iil" SOUTHAMPTON MANCHESTER BIRMINGHAM LEEDS LIVERPOOLGLASGOW
L-__« „ J
IWatepmans
From an almost limitless variety
of Waterman's Ideals we select
for special recommendation the
pens illustrated — as being extra
large and strong and therefore
more serviceable and more suit-
able for use on Active Service.
A Lieutenant writes: "I feel it
my duty to write >ou a few words of
praise for the Waterman Safety Pen
which I use. Bought before the war
it has been my never-failing friend.
During seven months' training, sixteen
months in France, and thirteen months
in hospital, and in Camp, Dug-out,
Trench or Hospital Bel, it has simply
prove 1 invaluable to me. It is tht
pen for Active Service without a
doubt."
Waterman's Ideal Fountain Pen is
strongly and accurately made. It well
withstands the rough wear of Active
Service. Its supply of ink cannot
evaporate or escape. It always writes
at once without blot or blur, and the
reservoir holds sufficient ink to write
thousands of words.
Ifalermaris Ideals are made in three
types; Lever Pocket Self filling and
Safety T'pes, 15/- and upwards ;
Regular, 10/6 und upwards. Of
Stationers and Jewellers everywhere.
L. G. SLOAN, Ltd.,
Fountain Pen
The Pen Corner,
Kingsway, LONDON, W.C.2. 23/6
N0.15P.S.F. N0.14P.S.F
(Lever Pocket .Self-filling)
7/innAi>^
THE BEST ROUTE V^S
CUNARD LINE -
CANADIAN NORTHERN RAILWAY
OFFER AN UNSURPASSED COMBINATION
OF TRAVELLING FACILITIES
TO AND THROUGHOUT
CANADA
FIRST CLASS STEAMERS
MODERN RAILWAY COMFORTS
CHEAP FARES
REGULAR SAILINGS FROM |
LIVERPOOL LONDON
BRISTOL
FOR FULL PARTICULARS APPLY TO THE
CUNARD LINE
CUNARD BUILDING, LIVERPOOL
LONDON 5l,BISHOPSGATE,E.C,2 & 29/51, C0CK5PUR STREET,SV/,I
MANCHESTER 98, MOSELEY STREET CARDIFF ,18A, M IGM STREET
BRADFORD 24-,CHARLES STREET SOUTHAMPTON ...NISBET * FLAD6ATE, I.CANUTE R"
BIRMINGHAM..... 117, NEW STREET GLASGOW 30. JAMAICA STREET
BRISTOL 65 BALDWIN STREET BELFAST 24. ROYAL AVE » t-O, QUEENS SQ
PLYMOUTH 1*2 MILLBAY ROAD QUEENSTOWN CUNARD WHARF
CANADIAN NORTHERN RAILWAY.
LONDON 42 45,riEW BROAD STREET EC2 & 2l,CHARm6 CROSS, 5 V/,1 /^^A^
ttVERPOOL. CUNARD BUiLDlNG GLASGOW 125. MOPE STREET /yO .' * V^\-
vi
CROW BEAUTIFUL HAIR FREE!
A SUGGESTION ALL MAY ADOPT.
Distribution of 1,000,000 Four- Fold Hair-Health and Beauty Outfits FREE.
HERE is a great opportunity and
a valuable gift for every reader
of this paper.
If you desire to look young and
well-groomed, look to your hair.
That is why the proprietors of the
world-famous Hair-
Grow i ng Speci fi c
" Harlene " are offering
1,000,000 Outfits Free.
Here is a suggestion for you
to adopt. Send for your
"Harlene Hair-Drill" Four-
Fold Gift and gro»» healthy,
luxuriant, and abundant hair.
Why not decide to-day to
banish hair poverty for ever ?
Why wear aitenuatcd, thin,
impoverished, lifeless locks of
hair when all the rich sparkle
and abundance of hair in its
natural healthy condition is
yours for the asking ?
ACCEPT THIS
WONDERFUL GIFT.
There is no restriction to
this gift distribution. Itissuffi-
cient that you are troubled
with any form of hair "ail-
ment," or that you desire to
improve the appearance of
your hair.
The Gift parcel comprises :
1. A bottle of ■■ Hariene,"
the true liquid food for
which stimulates It to new growth.
It is Tonio, Food, and Dressing in
one.
2. A packet of the marvellous hair
and scalp-cleansing- "Cremex" Sham-
poo Powder, which prepares the head
for " Hair Drill."
3. A bottle of "Uzon" Brilllantine,
which Rives a final touch of beauty to
the hair, and Is especially beneficial to
those whose sca'p is " dry."
4. A copy of the new edition of the
" Hair-Drill ' Manual, tflving complete
instructions.
No hair trouble can defy the soothing,
streiigthcnini; effect of "Harlene ' and its
scientific method of application, "Hair-
drill."
MILLIONS PRACTISE HAIR-DRILL
"Harlene Hair-Drill" daily. They have
tested and proved that this unicjue prepara-
tion, " Harlene," and its agreeable method
of application, " Hair-Drill," is the surest
way to overcome alt hair def cU, and that
it IS also the easiest way to ensure the per
feet growth of long, silky, tjeautilul hair in
abundance, glossy and bright
lomt ahuent ft
I,0«0,0O() Fret
four nanu and addreu and 4<i. ttampa/br rttum pcHaoi
kiy pnuUee ^ " Htrint Hal^Drm ' leUt
: ioiu Iua4 vl"^- Friault and rdalienM
Tru Vifrttfir OM tealL. Atmpt ontuftlu
,0U0,00» fret 4-i'i. <;t/l iiutjilt ofrmt tu iKulert lo-iaf. Mmplt tmtCtupon Mow wUh
" ■ ■ mdpakMWlWKiil.
the hair.
There is therefore no need to continue to
suffer from
1 Scalp Irrltmticn.
1. Cmplata or Partial Baldneu.
3. Thinning or Falling Hair.
4. Splitting Hairs.
5. Cvar Craaalnsu.
0. Scurf or Dandruff.
7. Unruly, Wiry Hair.
V'oung women
can maintain their
hair in abundant
beauty, and men
and women of more
mature years can
regain all the lost
lu>trc and health,
whether it ari^-cs
from illness, worry,
oveiwork, or the
passing of \'e;irs.
THE
"Harlene' Way
with a delightful "Cremex" Shampoo-
there is no more pleasant, invigorating toilet
exercise. Then sprinkle the hair with " Har-
lene," and gently massage the roots of the
hair with y..ur fingertips. Then add a lew
drops gf " Uzon " Briltiantine to give the
hair a final touch of brilliance.
Prove the wonderful merits of " Harlene"
for yourself without cost.
The gifts referred to above
will he sent you imme-
diately yon post the coupon
below.
HARLENE FOR MEN
ALSO
Every min desires to pre-
serve a fresh, smart, crisp
appearance, and in this re-
spect the care of the hair is
es.sential. The Free Gift
Offer mide in this announce-
ment is open to every man,
and they will find this two-
minutes-aday "Harlene
Hair-Drill" a delightfully
pleasant and beneficial toilet
exercise.
After a Free Trial you will
be able to obtain suppli'S of
" Harlene" from your che.i.ist
at is. 1i<L, 2«. 8d., or
4s. 9<t per lioule.
" Uzon " lirilliantine costs
la. and la. e<L per bottle,
and " Cremex" Shampoo
Powders la. tjda per Iwx of
seven shampoos (single
packets M. each).
Any or all of the preparations will be sent
post tree on receipt of price di-ect Irum
Edwards Harlene, Limited, 20, ZZ, Z*,i§
Lamb's Conduit Street, London, W.C.I.
Carriage extra on foreign orders. Chequ.s
and P.O.'s should be crossed.
^^^^^^^^^~~^^^^^~^~^-^~^"-^^~ I First o: all cleanse-
Millions of men ai.d women now practise | the hair and sc.ilp
hHARLENE GIFT COUPON =i
CDVC Cetaoh and Post to EDWARDS'
rr\L.L HARiENE. Ltd., 20, 22, 24 and
26 Lamb's Conduit Street,
Lon on, W.C.1.
I>ar Sirs, — Please send me your
•■■ice •'Harlene" Four Fold Hair
Gro»ing Outfii as announc d 1
ciiclos.* 4i. in stamps for )x)staKe
and pack ng.
NOTE TO READER.
U'ri < voNr /'uit *ami and ad.i'en
U.t'l on ti flAin f^uce of tap«r. tin thii
uurm to t. .in.l f-O't as directtti abo\t
Mf.i * t'ttfl- rt *SamHe l}tf<i.' \
^VE BROADKIV THE MAP!
IS 10,127 MILES OF INTERNATIONAL GOODWILL,
COURTESY, EFFICIENCY. AND SAFETY.
Travel by the Canadian Government, New Transcontinental, and G.T.P. Railways.
Wf SEE NEW DISTRICTS OF CANADA!
Special LOW Rates 'or Officers and Men going home on leave; also for their dependent's.
CONSULT USF THROUGH TICKETS BY ANY LINE I
Cook pur Strest.
LaadanhaM Straet.
EUROPEAN TRAFFIC OFFICES— {tgKggKl.^i, X^
FRED C. SALTER, European Traffic Managfer
LIVERPOOL, 20 Water Streat.
GLASGOW, 76 Union Street.
THE, DOMII^IOIV BAIVK,
Head Office: TORONTO, CANADA.
TOTAL ASSETS $97,061,000.
SIR EDMUND B. OSLER, M.P. (Canada), President. W. D. MATTHEWS, Vice-President.
C. A. BOGERT, General Manager.
London Branch-73 CORNHILL, E.C.3.
J HAYDN HORSEY, Manager (in London).
Transjers fcj) Cable or Mail ejiected on all points — Canadian, American, and Continental.
DEALERS IN CANADIAN AND AMERICAN EXCHANGE. GENERAL BANKING BUSINESS
TRANSACTED.
INFORMATION FURNISHED REGARDING CANADIAN MATTERS.
UNION BANK
OF CANADA
INCORPORATED 1865. Head Office. WINNIPEG.
Paid-up Capital and Reserves - $8,600,000
Total Assets exceed - - $109,000,000
= Vhe Sink, hat oecr 300 ^Branches ==
= in CanaJa from Atlantic to Pacific, and =
Agents in all the principal cities in America. ^=^
=^ Qeneral Ranking and Exchange Qjusi- z^
nejj transacted. Letters of Credit and ^=
^^= "Cravellers' Cheques issued, aoailable in '^rz
=^^ all parts of the world.
^ MONEYS TRANSFERRED to and f om ^
Canada and the Uniled Ma'ej by CABLE, &c. ^^
= DEPOSITS RECEIVED at favourable rate.. ^
^^^ which may be ascenaineJ on application to : — ir^:
= London Offices : ■- ^^=^
I 6. PRINCES STREET. E.C.2 g
^ 26. HAYMARKET. S.W.I. ^
= New York Agencg. 49 WALL STREET. =
HI
QUEBEC
The Province of Prosperity
THE war-time progress of the province of Quebec
has been in every way remarkable.
The amount of shipping for the port of Montreal —
the commercial capital of Canada— was last year the
largest in the history of the city. The grain export
trade reached the enormous total of 71.598,046 bushels,
being a gain of 66 per cent, over the previous year.
The mine products of the province of Quebec
showed an increase of 32 per cent.
The pulp and paper industry of the province has
made enormous strides. New plant is in course of
erection, huge quantities of raw materials are on the
spot ready for use, and a great future for this industry
is assured.
To Settlers, Manufacturers
and Investors,
the province of Quebec offers unique advantages on
account of the abundance of raw materials, the exten-
sive railway and other transport facilities, and the
great harbour accommodation.
For further information apply to the
AGENT-GENERAL FOR QUEBEC,
36 KINGSWAY, LONDON, W.C.2.
.'iitiiiniiiiiiHiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiniHiniiiMmiiiiin
1 For Active Service
1
Radium -lighted Watches.
Here are miniature photographs of an Ingersoll
Radiolite Watch — in the light and in the dark.
In day Hght it shows the time just lik-^ any
other watch; at night the hands and figures
glow and show the time clearly.
The hands and figures are made of Radiolite — a wonderful new substance containing
real radium. And it is the presence of real radium that makes them self-luminous.
So the hands and figures of Ingersoll Radiolite Watches glow for years — as long
as the watch lasts — without ever having ^^^^^ to be exposed to the light.
Waterbury
"Radiolite"
Figures.
A jewelled viatch^
dependable in every
way. Very suitable
for business men.
Ingersoll
Wrist
'Radiolite.
With cut out Protector as shown.
I/- amtra.
~A most useful watch — the
^''/avoiirite in the Services
for day and night pnrp'ises.
The "Radiolite" grade of luminous material is used
exclusively on Ingtrsolls, which ;ire sold by thousands
of shopkeepers throughout the Kingdom ; but if your
dealer cannot supply you, any Ingersoll model you
wish will be sent post free upon receipt of price.
Handsome illustrated Catalogue sent post fre»
upon request.
INGERSOLL WATCH CO., LTD.,
128 Regent House, Kings way, W.C.2.
Ingersoll " Radiolite."
A sturdy watch for general wear
and hard usage.
There are Ingersoll models
from 60/- down to 9/- ;
" Radiolite " figures and
hands 5/- extra.
GENUINE
WATCHES
HAVE NAME ON DIAL.
iiiiiitiiiiHuiiiiiinitiiiiiiitiHiiiinniiniiiiiiiiiiiniiHiiiiiriiiiiuiniiiitiniiiinriittiiiniiiiiiHiiMniMiininiiininniiitiiniiiMiinini!iHiiiiii^
ix
What is he writing
in the desert sand?
The sign of the Red Triangle. At this
moment many of our men are hoping,
longing, wondering — when shall we
have a Y.M.C.A. Hut or Tent ?
From all the Battle Fronts, from the Base
Camps, and from the Training Camps at
Home comes the same demand for more huts
and tents to carry on the world-wide service
of the Red Triangle.
Will you help to give our soldiers what
they want? Apart from the necessity of
finding ;^6oo every day for the maintenance
of the present work in over 2,000 Y.M.C.A.
Centres, there is an immediate need of more
Huts and Tents.
A Hut with equipment costs ;^6oo, and the
cost of a Tent, fully equipped, is £2S°< or£i 25
for a smaller size. Will you give one if you
can ; or help by subscribing part of the cost ?
£100,000 is urgently needed
Try to realise what your gift will mean to
hundreds of gallant men, perhaps to thousands.
A link with home — a centre of good
influence — a place of wholesome refresh-
ment and recreation for mind and body —
a haven of rest and peace in the midst of
war — all this and more your Hut or Tent will
be, wherever it is pitched. And the boys
are waiting for it to-day. Say that they
shall have it !
Please send your
Cheque to-day.
Donations should be addressed to Major
R. L. Barclay, Y.M.C.A. National Head-
quarters, 12, Russell Square, London. W.C.I.
Cheques should be made payable to Major
R. L. Biirclay, and crossed " Barclay's
Bank, Ltd."
! POST THIS TO-DAY.
I To Major R. L. Barclay, Y.M.C.A. National Head-
J quarters, 12. Russell Square, London, W.C. 1.
I I have pleasure in enclosing £ towards the
J Special Work of the Y.M.C.A. for the Troops.
Name.
Address..
Canada in Khaki
fiiummiiiiiHiiiuiiiiiHnmiiniiiiiniiiiHiniiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiHiiiiiiiniiiiiiniiniiiiiiiHiiiiiiiuiiniiiiiiHiiiiiiiiHiiiiiiiiiiiii^
P706
-BEAUTIFULLY CCX5L AND SWEET SMOKING"
Player's Novg cut ToDacco
Packed ia Taryiag d«grc«t of atreotih 10 suit «v«ry cUh of ainokcr
Player's Gold Leaf Navy Cut -
Player's Medium Navy Cut
Player's Tawny Navy Cut
PLAYER'S "WUTE LABEL" NAVY CUT
Per OM,
8
Id
2
Id.
Also PLAYER'S NAVY CUT DE LUXE (a development of
Player's Navy Cut) packed in Airtight Tins
3-oz. TINS
1/9
4-oc. TINS
3/6
Player's Navy cut Cigarettes
HAVE A WORLD-WIDE REPUTATION
They arc made from fine quality Virginia Tobacco and aold i* Two Strength*^
MILD AND MEDIUM
MILD (Gold Leaf) MEDIUM
100 for 4/6 50 for 2/3 100 for 3 5 50 for 1/9J
24 for 1/1 12 for 6id. 20 for 8id. 10 for 4^-
IN PACKETS AND TINS FROM ALL TOBACCONISTS AND STORES
These Cigireltes (aod Tobaccos) are also saprlled at DUTY FIEE lATES far Ike
purpose o( (ratatloas distribulloa to woaaded Soldiers aad Sailors la ■>ispilal
'.Vpii«''.U!;?,-" JOHN PLAYER & SONS. Nottingham
Term* and particuUrs
on
I'.raiv h of the Imperial Tobarco Co. (of Great Briinin nnd Iretand) Ltd
I
riiiiiiiHiniiiiiniiiiiiiniintiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiini!mii!i!iiiitiiniiiiiHiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii:iin jiiitiimiiiiiiii'i
xi
THE VERY LATEST-
lADGE BROOCHES
OF THE
BRITISH NAVY
AND ARMY.
A REMARKABLE PRODUCTION. ENAMELLED
IN THE CORRECT HERALDIC COLOURS OF
THE SHIPS' AND REGIMENTAL CRESTS.
Crests not already in our List can be
made to order— sketches submitted free.
■W Write for full particular*. *••
21/-
42/.
An entirely unique production in g-ct.
Solid Gold ; fine Enamel finish (as
illustration
15-ct. Gold ditto
500 Designs are ready, which include
almost every Regiment in the British Army,
Colonials, Territorials, Yeomanry, etc.,
also about 200 Designs of the Ships of
H.M. Fleet.
9-ct. Gold on Safety Pin ^ 1 9 /ft
(as illu-tration) " " Ia/O
Complete in velvet-lined leather case.
Solid Silver
Gilt Enamel
2/6
1/-
In velvet-lined box.
POST FREE ANYWHERE.
BOTLY & LEWIS
(Est iblished a Century),
Manu 'acturing Jewellers, etc.,
25, KING STREET, READING.
Actual MaoLfictnrcri. WhoUttle Tradt Supplied.
Send for our Illustrated Booklet, post free.
'Phone 172.
The n6w Slyles in
PMis Raincoats
F you want the very latest style
in your new Raincoat, ask to see
a "Philis," and recognise the ex-
clusive lines on which these garments
are cut.
There is no skimping about these
coats — a liberality of cloth, well
tailored, and of wet-resisting
properties, which keepyou dry
in any weather.
There is a style to »uit your
taste, at a reasonable price.
Ask your relailei. and if any diffi-
culty write to us, the Manufacturers,
for address of your nearest mantle
house slockins " Philis."
Send for fir^ f aider ahowins
all the newest atylea.
A Land of Fruit
and Flowers.
Vast Natural
Rasources.
Brltisl) Columbia
PRESENTS MANY OPPORTUNITIES
TO THE CAPITALIST AND INVESTOR.
A splendid Cliinate. Magnificent Scenery. The Sports-
man's Paradise. Excellent Educational Facilities.
Wonderful Deep Sea and Inland Fisheries. Enor-
mous Mineral and F"orest Wealth. Vast Water Powers.
The Canadian Province for Mixed Farming, Fruit
Growing, Dairying, Ranching, Sheep, Hog and
Poultry Raising.
Practically Free Lands for Settlers. Blocks of
160 acres costing only about 50/- inclusive.
Canada's Mineral Province.
B.C.'s Mines have produced to date over £100,000,000.
A World Supply of Timber for a World Market.
Eslimnled stand o( Merchantable Timber
400,000,000,000 ft. board measure.
Ful In/otvmttofi />« of charge on apf-licatton to Ike Agent-G^-neral for
B.C., Bri'hk Coliimhia Ho< m, I ami 3 Rceeitl Slreei, London, S.W.I.
of every
month
Order it from your
"Bookseller
The following
are a feto of the Authors Who are
noto at Work upon Stories /or The
PREMIER
MARIE CORELLI
BARONESS ORCZY
MORLEY ROBERTS
H. de VERE STACPOOLE
RAFAEL SABATINI
OWEN OLIVER
SAX ROHMER
W. L. GEORGE
ANDREW SOUTAR
GUY THORNE
FRED M. WHITE
HARRIS BURLAND
L. J. BEESTON
Mrs. BAILLIE REYNOLDS
AGNES and
EGERTON CASTLE
MAX PEMBERTON
The
PREMIER
Magazine
p'
I
I
C OMBINE
L U XURY
aNd
"^
CHE A PNESS
AND T R AVEL
SPEE D ILY
CANADA
REGULAR SAILINGS FROM
LIVERPOOL-LONDOH-BRISTOL
FOR FULL PARTICULARS APPLY AT THE COMPANY'S HEAD OFFICE
CUNARD BUILDING, LIVERPOOL
LONDON 51 BISH0P8GATE, E.C.2, & 29/31 C0CK8PUR ST., S.W.I.
MANCHESTER
BRADFORD ...
BIRMINGHAM...
BRISTOL
PLYMOUTH ...
CARDIFF
98 MOSELEY ST. SOUTHAMPTON / NISBET & FLADGATE.
24 CHARLES ST. I 1 CANUTE RD.
117 NEW ST. GLASGOW 30 JAMAICA ST.
24 ROYAL AVENUE &
49 QUEEN'S SQUARE
QUEENSTOWN CUNARD WHARF
. ... 65 BALDWIN ST
I &2 MILLBAY HOAD
18a high ST.
GLASGOW
BELFAST
OR LOCAL AGENTS
DIRECT FROM THE PACKERS
¥'"
EAT
THE
BEST BRANDS
OF
SALMON
WEE sconiE
PINK
SALMON
IS THE
MOST ECOHOMICAI.
MEAT WeT OBTAINABLE
EAT
BEST BRANDS
OF
SALMON
THE RED KING (Sockeye) and WEE SCOTTIE
(Pink) Brands of Salmon are the finest obtainable, and are carefully
packed for the United Kingdom by the ANGLO-BRITISH COLUMBIA
PACKING CO., Ltd., London, and Vancouver, British Columbia. Repre-
sented in Vancouver by MESSRS. HY. BELL-IRVING & CO., Ltd., and
in the United Kingdom by
THE BOWKER COMPANY, LTD.,
Liverpool, London and Manchester.
A kingly dish from a loyal land,
The best of food for the best of boys,
The net result is very grand ;
It's the stuff the fighting man enjoys,
For it gives him the grit to make a stand
Against the wiles the foe employs.
Can be obtained from all Grocers,
Stores, etc.
U.K. Sales Agents :—
THE BOWKER COMPANY, LTD.,
LIVERPOOL. LONDON. MANCHESTER.
Telegrams : " Sockeye, Liverpool."
QAINtf;QIAIN pACiriQ
c
I
r
I
The Empire's Highway
Operating over 18,000 miles of railway, the Canadian Pacific has the most
complete and far-reaching service, not only in Canada itself, but also for the United
States of America and Alaska.
Fleets of Palatial Modern Steamers on Atlantic and Pacific (Managers and
Agents : Canadian Pacific Ocean Services, Ltd.), connecting Canada with
Eu ope, Asia, and Au5tralasia.
Canadian Pacific Hotels are to be found in the chief commercial and tourist centres.
Lands in Western Canada and British Columb'a for sale at moderate prices.
Through Tickets at lowest rates to all points in CANADA, UNITED STATES
ALASKA, JAPAN, MANILA. CHINA. NEW ZEALAND, AUSTRALIA,
and ROUND THE WORLD.
Fast Freight Services from Europe to the rich markets of the New World. —
Ship your goods via C.P.R.
PARCELS by DOMINION EXPRESS to Canada and U.S.A.
Head European Office : 62-65 Charing Cross, LONDON, S.W 1.
67-68 King William St., LONDON, E.C.4 ; or Local Agents everywhere.
c
I
F
I
ANADIAN PACiriC
XVI
The
Car in Canada.
No matter where the "Austin" is taken, it emerges
triumphantly from its tests. The car, illustrated above,
was the first English car to make the journey across
Canada under its own power, and, throughout the whole
time, ran without trouble of any kind, surmounting all
difficulties of road, hill, and climate with the greatest ease.
fVe are always glad to answer inquiries with
regard to our cars, and invite correspondence.
THE AUSTIN MOTOR CO., Ld., Longbridgc Works,
Northfield, Birmingham, England.
Depots at - LONDON - MANCHESTER - NORWICH - PARIS.
Send today for
Gunner WILL COOK'S
Latest Successes.
"Victorious March
— : ot the : —
Princess Pat's."
(MILITARY MARCH)
Fctored by ihe CANADIAN MILITARY BAND.
GRAFTON HALL, LONDON.
"MARCH of the FIGHTING
ANZACS "
(MILITARY MARCH & TWO STEP).
"BUCKING MULE RAG"
A MUSICAL "SPASM " with > 'KICK").
"PARAPET RAG"
(A SURE "FRONT LINER").
Piano Solos : 1/6 ,?.'.•>;_
ALL MUSIC LOVERS should add
tkese to their LIBRARY.
WILL COOK & CO..
Music Publishers,
21 Stamford Road. Daliton.
LONDON. N.l. ENG.
JOHN PLENDERLEITH,
NAVAL, MILITARY AND
— CIVIL OUTFITTER. —
10 SACKVILLE STREET,
PICCADILLY, W.l.
Lawrie's Bagpipes.
THE "SKIRL" OF THE BAGPIPES
was heard on the Heights o! Abrahiiii. From that day the
house of the Gae! has been in Canada, and where the Gael is
there you have the Bagpipe. The 'indomitable Canadians "
fighting in France to-day are descendants of those who fought
on Abraham's Heights, and there sure enough the music of the
Bagpipe cheers them on to Victory.
LAWRIE'S BAGPIPES
are as popular with Canadians as they are with the Mqtherland
troops, and few Battalions of Canadian Scots are without
Bagpipes of Lawrie's make.
THE TONE— THE FINISH
and general superiority of Lawrie's famed Bagpipes have made
them popular at Home and Abroad.
R. G. LAWRIE CAeta&l Maker),
60 Renfield street, Glasgow.
LoadoD : 164 Aide sgaK St. Edinkar^k : 62 HaaoTer SI.
Lovers of beautiful furniture will
appreciate
Rexine
— the perfect uphoUtering material.
It brings the dignity and beauty of a leather-
covered suite within the reach of everyone,
for it is only one-quarter the price of leather.
Rexine looks just like leather and has the same
grains and colourings. But it is better than leather
— wears longer — doesn't crack or peel — is proof
against stains, grease and water, and will not
scratch. Even the children cannot damage it.
Before buying new furnilure or having yonr present >uile
re-uphoUtered ask to see samplei of Kexine — it ii tlie ideal
covering for dining
room and library
suilei.
// you experience
any difficulty drop
a postcard to the
maimers.
<?.'.-?,
REXINE LTD.,
Rexine Worki,
Hyde, near
u Manchester.
Y
~~rl
S— this Trad*.
Mark in purple
•¥«ry few inches
on each sole.
Without this
Trade Mark
the leather is
a aubaiitttte.
7M# tn^fity of *' ^' ipf^" availabU to the publtc is greaih
restricted^€Sf>rciaiiy of the heavier tveij^hts— the Government
re^ui' ing the major portion of our future output. H V invite
} 0ttr kimd induigence until the time when normal c^uiitiont
can be resumed.
If.
B3
becauta HE raquires Dripped that YOU
have difficulty in obtaining it.
And if you hear a >oIdicr'.s cvprritnce of Dripeii— -bow it keeps his feet
dry and warm— you'll be well content to wait for your own shaie. If one
repairer has not got it. try another until you do gei it. It's worth while.
Dri-pcd. the tupcr-lesthcr for soles, it doable wcarloc. abiolatclr
watcrtiroof. Uiht and flexible, aoaiqaeakiac. ooa-sllpplDff.
"Dri-pcd" Adverlisint Dcp'.. Coontv Bl'ts.. Caaaoi St.. Maachcster.
Sole ManuUcturer^ W. WALKER & SONS. Ltd.. Bottoo
Guaranteed
to stand the Test
of most strenuous wear in the
roughest area in ail conditions
of weather.
ior^
** Direct from Scotland."
will satisfy you with their thorough-
ness in comfort, At, and durability.
Th4 ' Noruvlski ' Field Boot Miitary Pattern
{as lllus*rated). fs one of our most poptilar
designs in field booCk. Uppert are cut from best
quauty of block or brown pebble-grain cal skin ;
watertight tonffues to top ; tuuid-huilt throughout,
and miaoe exactly as illustration. Three thick-
ne<4es of leather are uaed in the uppers ;
thi« feature, combined with our s lecial
procew of stitching and finishing,
makes it impossible for water or da«ip
to penetrate; very light inC/,
weighing. lUv/
"Drl-ped" ■olaa
5/- extra.
D. NORWELL S* SON.
Perth, Scotland.
Onlcrs sent po«t free in Britain, foreign poelaf e .«tra.
B^ Writa new tor Haw Feotiitear Calalogua.ip
<P
'Je?f^
Scientific Aid
in the Prevention of Disease
Bacteriologists have been wonder-
fully sncc^sful in late years in
discovering and isolating for ob-
servation purposes the varioos
mlcro'ori^anisms which are re-
sponsible for disease.
They have found that the
microbes which cause trouble in
the throat and lungs are best
met and defeated at the point of
entry— the throat
And they recommeod thai when
dancer thrcalciu in cold and wet weatlMr or when-
ever th* viuliiy k lovered, ill eOactt Iroin senn
attacks may be prevented by th« sibject't taking
EVANS*
fiastit/es
The effective prccantlonarr Dcainre
afalost the miciobes of (aflacnu.
Catarrh. DlyhthtrU. PataBoaia. ate.
Evam' PaatUaa r rvntihen iba vocafcfaorrfa, aOar
aiia|>rFTcnt lrr1Ut.oa of tt>e tliraat. awl kxnm
any it.u^ou^ sc
:h may tw prcvnt.
The Bmeittut ir^utHta.
twm a mierv^Mvrmfh 0
the tnicrv^x laJben at »ur
Rumom l-^hermSerUs,
IfAR.Wt.S'G. - Se* the
'• raiitd iur" en tach Pa»-
tilie. i\*ne
art genutnt
wUMotitthts
TRKNCH
ODOintS
•%hl>..:is.
l'.i-.tTi;r* ar« «[>'en-ti(l
■w-nt.:.j tfw; i,ni>lMl-
I- •- w u '1 rr^ult Irmn
'.•-\ in- iTii.iliM' le (or
«■» I d t ii 1.. the TronL
1 3fi;
Obtainable from all Cbeiui$t<(
and ^'torcs or Post Free Irum
the Makers,
EVANS SONS. LESCHER & WEBB. Ltd.,
56 Haoovcr Street. Liverpool.
52 Weeks' Home and War News
Cut oflF from the Motherland during the
Empire's greatest crisis, the Briton living
abroad longs for something to bridge
the distance and keep him in touch
with Home.
5/-
He gets his war news from various
neutral sources (and often from enemy-
tainted newspapers), while no word
reaches him direct of other happenings
in the Home Country.
The ONLY journal published exclusively to
convey news to Britons overseas, produced by
men who have lived abroad and know what
is longed for. A subscription to the Overseas
Edition of the " Daily Mail " provides 52 weekly
messages from Home and no empty mails.
5/-
IIM
• OVERSEAS EDITION
Costs
5/- a year to any address in the world and
secures to you
I. The weekly issue of the Overseas Britons'
FAVOURITE HOME JOURNAL.
11. The periodical Drapery, Engineering, and other
special Trade Supplements.
III. The services of the Overseas Buying Agency,
Carmelite House, London, E.G., who will
supervise for you all your purchases from
the United Kingdom.
Subscription Rates :— One Year, 5s. ; Six Months, 3s. 6d. ; Three Months, 2s.
Address :
The N'anager, "Overseas Daily Mail," Carmelite House, London, E.G.
aiimiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiuiiiittatitihu.:iii.ciiiuiii.ii...;i,...at.t;i.i;Miiiiiiiiiuiuiiiii>ii.titt.iii:!iiiiti<tiiii]..i
Q9
mier
Its delicate flavour and bouquet, its great age,
and its extreme lightness impart that "tone" and
quiet recuperative effect so necessary after an
exhausting day — an ideal "night-cap."
WRIGHT & GREIG, LTD.,
Glasgow and London. ™ ~
niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiitiiiiiiiiiiiHHUiiiiiiniiiHiiiiiiiniiiiiiitiniHitiHiiiniHittiniiiii^
XXI
Messrs.
SPECIALITIES :
Fine and Common News,
In Reams or Reels. Our
"B" Fine White Art Printing,
For Magazines, Catalogues, etc.
W. V. BOWATER S SONS
PAPER MAKERS. WHOLESALE
AND EXPORT STATIONERS.
LTD.,
Largest Suppliers of News in the United Kingdom.
White and Coloured Printings, in Sheets or on Reels. All qualities. Fine Super-
Calendered, Water-Finished and Coated Papers for Cheap and High-class Magazines.
Engine-Sized Writings. Long Elephants. Glazed and Unglazed Browns. Mill
Wrappers. Small Hands, etc. etc. Waste Papers Bought and Sold for Pulping.
Originators of High-Finished News for Half-Tone Blocks and the well-known
"B Brand" Papers.
REGISTERED
TRADE MARK.
HEAD OFFICE;
159 Queen Victoria St., LONDON, E.C.4
GLASGOW: 33 CARRICK STREET.
LONDON: HAYDON SQUARE, E.I.
MORDEN PAPER WORKS, GREENWICH, S.E.IO.
WAREHOUSES :
BOWATER'S WHARF, 83 COMMERCIAL ROAD,
LAMBETH, S.E.I.
NEW YORK : WOOLWORTH BLDGS.. BROADWAY.
And Principal Ports throughout the World.
Telegraphic Address: "SPARTEOLUS. CENT. LONDON."
Telephone Nos. 536, 537 & 538 BANK.
Awarded Silver Medal and Diploma at International Press and Printing
Exhibition, Crystal Palace, 1902, Gold Medal and Diploma, Franco-British
Exhibition. 1908.
zzii
^ssssn
"Canada in Khaki" — the Empire'i hero Sons know
well the uler dependability of the handy little Douglas.
Its astonishing turn of speed — its ample power to meet any
emer.ency — and its wonderful reliability have made the
Douglas indispensable "at the front," just as those sterling
qualities have also made it the ideal machine for service in
all parts of the world.
Do you ride a Douglas?
May we tend you a copy of the illustrated Douglas Catalogue 7
— it is free on request.
DOUOLAS BROS., KINQSWOOD, BRISTOL.
Douglas
AFTER - WAR OPPORTUNITIES
ONTARIO
SETTLERS, MANUFACTURERS & INVESTORS.
Millions of acres of the most perfect soil are simply waiting
for the plough ; the mineral resources are inexhaustible ;
cheap water power and vast quantities of raw materials
are ready at hand for the manufacturer, and there are
enough hardwood forests to supply the ttmber demands of
the world. *
LAND SETTLEMENT SCHEME
FOR RETURNED SOLDIERS AND SAILORS.
Men are offered free instruction on Governniont ICxpcri-
mental Farm at Monteith, Ontario. When proficient,
they will be given an 8o-acre lot with lo-acre clearing, and
a loan not exceeding $500 (repayable in 20 years) will,
where necessary, be advanced by Government for purchase
of machinery, tools, live stock, etc.
During training, free board and accommodation and wages
$1.10 per day, will be granted i al~o in the case of married
inen, or men with dependants, allowance of $6 per month
for each child under 16, and $5 per month for wife.
.Additional grant of $20 per month will be paid in lieu of
Dominion Government separation allowance.
For further particulars, apply to the A i^enl -General for Ontario,
163 Strand, L. ndon, ll'.C.2.
tASTIClNl*
The favourite Modelling materia! wilh years
of good solid repulat on behind it.
Arti.sts use it.
Sculptors use it.
Educationists use it.
Elementary Schools use it.
Secondary Schools use it.
Schools of Art use it.
Soldiers use it.
Military Instruitioiial Schools use it.
The War Office use it.
Parents use it.
Nearly everyone uses it.
Children love it an J delight in it.
Can be obtained frotn Artists' Colourmen,
Toy and General Dealers, Stationers and
o h<r», both in the U.K. and all the Colonies.
Full Partiiulars and Samples,
HARBUTT'S PLASTICINE, LTD.,
33, Batkampton, Batb.
London Show Rooms: 34. Ludiale Hill, E.C.4. •
KWffiWffi.%\:«SJDS.'«.C«:BV!f;<f5K-jr*rv¥vfi«wT5,S'5XPvSK;!^^^
Mmm/mtlwni ty
Aatwra PtrfiMiry C«., », S2, M WIUm^m Um, N.W.
Li
XXUl
Bathurst Lumber Co.,
Bathurst, N.B. Canada.
Sulphite of great strength and
exceptional beating qualities.
Riordon Pulp and Paper Co., Ltd.,
Hawkesbury, Canada.
Easy Bleaching Sulphite Pulp of High
Grade and good strength.
Champion Fibre Co.,
Canton, U.S.A.
Bleached Sulphite, Poplar and
Kraft Soda.
Macleod Pulp Co., Ltd.,
Milton, Nova Scotia.
Prime Ground Wood Pulp.
La CompagniedePulpedeChicoutimi
Chicoutimi. Canada.
Hot Ground Spruce Mechanical
Nova Scotia Wood Pulp S PaperCo.,
Mill Village, Nova Scotia [Ltd.
Prime Ground Wood Pulp.
SOLE AGENTS:—
BECKER&CO.,Ltd.,
Telephone Nos. 1917 \
(3 lines) 1918 ^CITY.
I919J
Telegrams ; —
"ODONTOID LUD LONDON."
54, Ludgate Hill,
LONDON, E.C.4.
The Largest Importers of Wood Pulp.
Crown Willamette Paper Co.,
U.S.A.
strong Sulphite Fibre.
St. Lawrence Pulp S Lumber Co.,
Gaspe, Canada.
High Grade Sulphite Pulp.
Dexter Sulphite Pulp S Paper Co.,
Dexter, U.S.A
M itscherlich Sulphite Pulp.
United Pasteboard Co.,
Fairfield, U.S.A.
Kraft and Easy Bleaching Soda Pulp.
International Paper Co.,
U.S.A.
Fine "News" Sulphite Pulp.
Whalen Pulp and Paper Mill.Ltd.,
British Columbia.
High Grade Strong and Easy
Bleaching Sulphite.
Laurentide Co., Ltd.,
Grand Mere, Canada.
High Giade Strong Sulphite Pulp.
PacHed Bales, 90% air-dry.
Wayagamack Pulp and Paper Co.,
Three Rivers, Canada.
Kraft and Easy Bleaching Soda Pulp.
CANADA IN
KHAKI No. 2
A Tribute to the Officers and
Men now serving in the Overseas
Military Forces of Canada
The net profits of this publication Will go
to the Canadian War Memorials Fund
Published for the Canadian War Records Office
TORONTO
THE MUSSON BOOK COMPANY
LIMITED
\
A FOREWORD
The warm welcome accorded to the first number
of CANADA IN KHAKI— the entire issue of
which was sold out within a week of publication
— has encouraged us to launch a Second Volume,
which we hope will be equally favourably received.
Once more we have to thank the many famous
writers and artists who have so generously contri-
buted to this publication. The copyright in all
contributions, both illustrations and letterpress,
contained in these pages is strictly reserved.
THE EDITORS
1048013
CAS AD A IN KHAKI Page I
CONTENTS
FAG*
THE CORPS COMMANDER. By Capt. Theodore Goodridge Roberts . . 5
FAR AWAY. By T. A. Girling 6
THE CANADIANS THROUGH BRITISH EYES. By Perry Robinson, W. Beach
Thomas, Philip Gibbs, Percival Phillips, and Herbert Russell . ." . 9
THE SHORTEST WAY TO THE FRONT. By A. St. John Adcock . . 19
THE RUNNERS. By Sergt. L. McLeod Gould 20
CANADA IN HUNLAND. By Frederic William Wile 23
THE CANADIAN WAR MEMORIALS FUND. By the Secretary ... 25
FROM THE LAND OF THE GOLD AND SNOW. By Henry Chappell . . 29
THE SILENT TOAST. By Lt.-Col. Canon F. G. Scott 29
IRRECLAIMABLE. By R. S. Warren Bell 30
WE ARE WINNING— BUT SEND US MORE MEN I By Lieut.-Genl. Sir R. E. W.
Turner, V.C, C.B., K.C.M.G., D.S.O .45
HARVEST SONG. By H. Smalley Sarson 46
•• GONE WEST." By F. A. McKenzie 4,v
CHEERO : By Private F. W. Daglish 56
THE STAFF CLERK. By Sergt. W. T. Knight 51
THE LUSITANIA BEGAN IT, By Max Pemberton 52
A CINEMA AT THE FRONT. By Major Charles G. D. Roberts . . .64
CHANCE OR DESTINY ? By A. B. Tucker 6.^
S. R. D. By J. Gordon Smith 70
ODES TO ARMY FORMS. By R. M. E 72
CHRISTMAS DAY ON VIMY RIDGE. By F. A. McKenzie . . . .75
WINTER. By H. Smalley Sarson 76
CANADA'S THREE YEARS OF WAR. By Major F. Davy . . .81
A FIGHT WITH A SUBMARINE. By William Hope Hodgson ... 84
YE OLDE MESS TIN SPEAKETHE ! By Private F. W. Daglish . . 102
WHAT'S WHAT. By Captain A. Rocke Robertson, CA.M.C 104
THE COCKNEY TELLS THE CANADIAN SOMETHING i,,.
THE SWORED. By H. Smalley Sarson 10^
THE KNIGHT-ERRANT FROM SASKATCHEWAN. By Donovan Bayley . .113
A CANADIAN. By Jessie Pope 126
THE CHUMP'S IDEA. By Edwin Pugh i^^
Page 4 CANADA IN KIIAKI
PAGE
THE CANADIAN ALPHABET 132
EVERYTHING OR NOTHING. By Edward Cecil i35
THE POP-GUN PATRIOT. By Leonard Crocombe i45
YOUNG MAY. By Jessie Pope 146
ON RECEIVING A PIPE FROM AN ANONYMOUS DONOR. By R. M. E. . 149
THE SNIPERS 156
SOLDIERS. By J. E. Sime I57
MAKING THE GUNS AND SHELLS. By Lieut. G. W. Cavers . . . .164
THE TWA DOGS. By W. D. Dodd 168
IN MEMORIAM OF A GOOD FELLOW. By Bdr. W. C. C 168
LONDON GUIDES. By W. Pett Ridge 170
BACK FROM FLANDERS. By Adrian Ross 172
AT PEACE. By Colonel Lorne Ross .172
LIST OF COLOURED PLATES
FACING PAGB
THE STRONG ARMS OF CANADA. By Byam Shaw 5
THE SECOND BATTLE OF YPRES. By Hon. Major Richard Jack, A.R.A. . 26
CANADIAN LUMBERMEN IN WINDSOR PARK. By Professor G. Moira . 28
TAKE COVER ! By MacMichael 38
WINTER. Border Design by Lieut. C. H. Barraud, O.M.F.C 76
SIR ROBERT BORDEN TAKES THE SALUTE . . - . . . .94
A WAR-TIME WARNING. By Thomas Henry 104
THE RETURN TO THE TRENCHES. By Dudley Hardy . . . .138
YOUNG MAY. Illustrations by MacMichael 146
HIS CONSTANT COMPANION. By H. Piffard .148
THE COW PUNCHER. By Arthur Heming 172
THE STRONG ARMS OF CANADA
B.v Byram Shaw
CANADA IS KHAKI
Page •
THE CORPS COMMANDER
THE WAR CAREER OF LIEUT.-GENERAL
SIR ARTHUR CURRIE. C.B., K.C.M.G.
By CAPTAIN THEODORE GOODRIDGE ROBERTS
SIR ARTHUR CURRIE, commanding
the Canadian Army Corps in France,
is a big man with a big command.
Fortunately, he is as big in mind and
spirit as irt body ; otherwise, he should
not be worth any more to us than any
two ordinary men.
The First Canadian Division, the
original unit of the Canadian Corps, is
not much more than three years old ;
and yet the Corps as a whole possesses
battle traditions and a fighting reputa-
tion equal to those of any Army Corps
in the field I make this statement with
an assurance strengthened by the know-
ledge that any officer of any other unit
in the British Army who has fought
with or beside the Canadians will be glad
to confirm it.
The Canadian Force has grown un-
falteringly from one division to its pre-
sent strength ; and Arthur W. Currie
has grown unfalteringly with it. He
was at Valcartier and on Salisbury Plain
in 1914, and commanded an infantry
brigade during the Second Battle of
Ypres and other desperate and vital
emas-emonts of about that time and
locality.
When our Second Division arrived
in llic field in the summer of 1915, he
was prun^nted to the command of
our First Divisiur During the follow-
ing winter the science of trench-raiding
was brought to perfection by his old
briade and practised ind'istriously by
hi- whole command. During those
ni iddy months opposite Messii.es, many
brilliant feats of arms were pertormed.
The Corps, now llirce divisions strong,
moved back to the tragic salient of
Ypres in the late spring of 1916, with
Currie still in command of the premier
division. In tlie meantime, our Second
Division, under Maj or-General Turner,
V.C, had been proved in the terrible and
prolonged battles of St. Eloi and the
seven craters. In the salient all three
divisions were employed in foiling Ger
many's third gigantic and unsuccessful
attempt at this point to break through —
the third terrific assault to be delivered
and the second to be faced and stayed by
Canadian troops. These were the days
of Sanctuary Wood and Mount Sorrel, of
Armagh Wood and of Hills 60 and 61 —
of heroic defence against overwhelming
odds of iron and fire and flesh, and of
heroic counter-attacks — the thirteen June
days that shall live for ever in Canada's
great memories.
The Corps, at this time commanded by
Sir Julian Byng, moved to the Somme
late in August. The premier division led
the way, after being relieved in the
salient by the Fourth Division, fresh from
England. The fighting and conditions
on the new front were bitter in the ex-
but again the Canadians held,
ground and held again, and
Trench and Courcelette were
to our vocabulary of proud ,
treme ;
gained
Regina
added
names.
From the Somme they went north
again, this time to the Arras Front.
There a formidable task was to be done ;
and early in April last we drove the
enemy from Vimy Ridge and the fortified
villages and woods beyond — from sinister
positions in and before which Frenchmen
Page 6
CANADA IN KHAKI
and Germans had died in scores of thou-
sands, in the earlier days of the war.
Here the Canadians fought throughout
the spring and summer and autumn, add-
ing one important position after another
to their gains. Here, early in June, one
great general handed the Corps over to
another — Sir Julian Byng, promoted to
the command of an Army, was replaced
by Sir Arthur Currie, of the old division.
And still the good work went on without
a pause.
In the fall of the year, in rain and mud,
the Canadians were yet again recalled to
Ypres, where a typical Canadian task
awaited them. They did the work. The
great story of Passchendaele is too fresh
in your minds to require a word from
me.
The war career of the Canadians, as a
division and an Army Corps, is one with
that of our present Corps Commander ;
so in roughly sketching the former I
have outlined the latter.
The Corps Commander is a great
general. To be a great and successful
and trusted general, a man must possess
exceptional powers of observation and
of concentration. He must be able to
think and decide swiftly and yet without
haste ; he must possess unfailing energy,
and an intimate knowledge and under-
standing of his officers and men, his guns
and roads, his defences and his battle-
fields ; he must know his ground, the
heart of his men — ^and his enemy. He
must possess the spirit of justice and a
high sense of duty ; and always he must
keep the one great purpose of his being
bright in his mind — to beat the Boche in
every encounter with the least possible loss
of life to his own courageous battalions.
The Corps Commander is like that.
T. G. Roberts.
FAR AWAY
With equipment strapped to my shoulders,
And my rifle close to my hand,
My head stretched out to the ridgeward,
I. wait here in No Man's Land,
'Mid the litter and lumber of battle,
On the shell-churned clay of France,
Where the craters and crumbling trenches
Bear the signs of the hoped advance.
I wait, while the barrage lengthens,
While the rifles crack o'er the hill,
Then the bombs explode in the dug-outs,
And the first line trench grows still,
'Mid the crash of the answering shrapnel,
Lit by signal flares of the Hun,
As the final waves pass over.
To the tat of the Lewis gun.
Out here in the rain and bluster,
Thick mud on my khaki form,
I wait through the long day's battle,
Through the night of the snow ai>d the
storm,
As the fighting surges forward,
Till the No Man's Land of the past
Is a place of quiet and shelter.
And reaches its peace at last.
I wait till the burying party.
Shall find me here in the clay.
Shall loose the disc from my bosom,
And take my poor trinkets away,
Then dig a grave to lay me
Away from this weary war.
And the shell-torn crest of Vimy
Shall cradle me evermore.
And then in the roll of honoui^-o-*^
Just one feeble flickejr*^ fame
Ere I sink in thei^^ oblivion,'
- Will be writtf^ ^^y humble name;
And the fighliCig will still press Eastward,
To th« Ji^ctory close at hand,
But I sh^jj jjg dreamlessly sleeping
lk. quiet of No Man's Land.
T. A. Girling, O.M.F.C.
In
CANADA l\ KHAKI
r<i<i>
THE MAN WHO LEADS THE CANADIANS IN THE FIELD
Lieut.-Genl. Sir A. W. Currie, C.B., K.C.M.G., on his favourite charger
Canadian Official Phoiograpft
Page 8
CANADA IN KHAKI
CANADA'S HIGH COMMISSIONER VISITS CANADA'S FIGHTING MEN
Sir George Perley has to don a
service steel helmet
The High Commissioner inspects one of many
captured German blockhouses
Canadian Official Photographs
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page 9
THE CANADIANS THROUGH
BRITISH
TRIBUTES FROM FAMOUS WAR CORRESPONDENTS
The following era true t»l«« of the Canaaian troop, in battle, »i»iaiy and brilliantly
told by tho.e famous War Correspondent* attached to Br.ti.h Headquarters in France-
Mr. Perry Robinson, of the Time.; Mr. W. Beach Thomas, of the Daily Mail; Mr. Philip
Gibbs, of the Daily Chronicle; Mr. Pereival Phillips, of the Daily Expnts; and Mr. Herbert
Russell, of Router's Agency.
"WE ARE ONLY CIVILIANS"
Mr. Perry Robinson tells of the modesty of the
Canadian Division which has won immor-
tality on the Western Front.
IT'S a long, long way from Salisbury Plain
to Passchendaele— from Pond Farm to Crest
Farm— from Bustard to Bellevae ; but at least
they had one thing in common— namely,
mud. Oh, that fine old glutinous mud of
West Down South I The wallows of Lark
Hill 1 That knee-deep stagnant rivulet which
ran from Salisbury out to Bustard, and was
cheerfully known as a road 1 I thought of it
all again the other day, when I had been
watching as much as a spectator could see of
the attack on Passchendaele by the "Iron
Sixth" Brigade. One could see but little; only
the long dark ridge, nearly black against the
dawn in the eastern sky, but all aflicker with
the firefly flashes of the British guns, while
everywhere huge spurts of black smoke and
mud and water flung up into the air as the
great shells plunged ; and overhead the aero-
planes swung, passed and circled in the clear
morning sky. One could not see the indi-
vidual figures of infantry, but as our guns
continually lengthened their fire to far beyond
the Ridge one knew that the infantry had
gone on and had not come back. Then, far
up, high and bright against the sky, tossed up
the gallant signal rocket, which told that the
Canadians had reached their final line and
that Passchendaele was cur--.
On the way down I stopped at a dressing-
station, and talked with the wounded as they
came in. And then it was that I remembered
Busurd and Bulford, and all the rest of it; for
once again I saw Canadian soldiers muddy
to the waists; but what a gulf lay betwctn
those days and these I
Though knowing Canada and Canadians
pretty well, yet, when I went to spend a week
on Salisbury Plain in the winter of 1915, I
confess that it was with the expectation, com-
mon to all the English then, of finding the
Canadians just a trifle too cocksure arid full
of swagger. I expected to be told how you
fellows were going to show us how war ought
to be made, and how you proposed, in some
few weeks, to wipe the enemy off the earth.
Never have I found myself more mistaken in
my life; never have I admired men more for
the spirit in which they were entering on a
great enterprise. There was not, in all that
• First Division, one word of boasting, so far
as I could learn, however cunningly I set
mean traps to call the boastful spirit forth.
Long hours I spent wading through that
mud and talking to chance men amid the
slime. Other long hours at messes, and, most
fruitful of all, yet others with Battalion or
Brigade Commanders alone in their tents at
night, while the wind shrieked across the
Plain and drove the rain in fine drizzle
through the canvas. The old British Ex-
peditionary Force had then done its greatest
work, though we understood but dimly as yet
how great it was; and it seemed to me that
Page 10
there was only one prayer on the lips and in
the heart of every Canadian officer on the
Plain : "If only we can do as well when our
time comes I "
Every officer had perfect confidence in his
men. It was himself that he was afraid of.
"We are only civilians," I heard it said again
and again; "and have never been trained.
Now, on us is the responsibility for training
our men, and there is not one of us who does
not know he is not competent. If only we can
make good when the time comes ! "
Well, Ypres, Courcelette, Vimy, Lens,
Passchendaele : there is no question now of
making good. Not many of the men I talked
to then are to be found to-day, but Canada
and the Empire owe them an immeasurable
debt. After every fight, in speaking with
Canadians, I find my mind going back to
Salisbury Plain, to the endless slush, the raw
cold and driving rains, the damp, steaming
interiors of the little tents, and always that
simple, earnest spirit of determination and
the constant prayer: "If only when our time
comes 1 -
GIFT OF ORIGINALITY
Mr. Beach Thomas describes a characteristic
raid by Canadians, and pays a tribute to
their original enterprise.
SO many great names are written on
the escutcheon of Canadian soldiers in
France that anyone who dares — as we are
asked to dare — to write of them within the
space of a paragraph would be likely to suffer
from plethora of thought and facts. Ypres,
the Orchard, Courcelette and beyond, Vimy,
Hill 70, Passchendaele — what a string of
jewels with how many facets ! So in despair
at the thought of the amount of material, I
will write something of one of the smallest of
Canadian adventures — a mere raid — and per-
haps it illustrates as well as bigger events
what seem to us the most salient qualities of
Canadian soldiers.
The trenches and earthworks by Kemmel
were deep, and spick and span. No Man's
CANADA IN KHAKI
Land separating them from the Germans
was rechristened Canada, so much at home
in it were Canadian patrols; and their
mastery urged them to overflow the boun-
daries, to pass the frontier. A raid — a quiet
raid, without help of artillery, was pre-
pared. The German wire was cut by hand,
at night; and by a stroke of masterly daring
a point immediately opposite a machine-gun
emplacement was chosen as the principal
avenue of approach. The men were allowed
to choose their weapons. One lusty smith
selected a two-pound hammer because it
"came up sweetly," as we say of a well-
balanced gun. When the hour of attack
approached, the Brigadier came down to
shake hands with the Thors and Heracles,
equipped with their hammers and axes, and
other strange implements. I will not describe
the details of the raid, which is old history.
Scott said: "One crowded hour of glorious
life is worth an age without a name." In this
case, just seven crowded minutes — the total
duration of the raid — were worth several ages,
and under a cascade or canopy of friendly
mortar shells, the triumphant band came back
over " Canada " near twice as many as they
went over.
The importance of this raid, and its im-
mediate predecessor, was that it was new in
idea and in execution ; and as a war corre-
spondent looks back over the Canadian share
in the war, he sees that original enterprise is
the supreme gift of Canada to the whole
British and, indeed. Allied Army. Every
attack has had originality : the rapid exten-
sion of the programme by which Courcelette
was captured, the turning of the German guns
against the Germans at Vimy, the dodging of
the marshes at Passchendaele — scores of little
instances could be quoted. -Perhaps at first
the originality was excessive. Personally, I
never hated anyone's originality so much as
the method of a young Canadian guide dur-
ing my very first visit to the trenches. He
seemed to regard trenches as unpleasant and
unnecessary things designed for cowards.
Therefore, with characteristically youthful
and Canadian daring, he took me in the open
across the top of the hill — it was Hill 63 — and
pointed out leisurely the fat Germans in their
{
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page 11
_Pm WEDNE5
-DAY
By Lint. C. 11. liifrmiil, 0,.V.F.C
S'lORY OF CANADA GRUNDY
Page 18
CANADA IN KHAKI
trenches just across the way. Five minutes
.ater we were smothered with mud from the
first of a rapid series of shells from sniping
cannon behind Messines. Then even that
young guide reluctantly took to the refuge of
a dirty ditch. But to-day the excesses of
originality have fallen away without loss of
dash. No one attacks more carefully or digs
better defences than Canadian troops, though
still their genius lies in assault. The brigade
that I know best calls itself "the Iron — th,"
and the whole Canadian corps is an iron
corps, in the French sense of the term.
Never did the English gift of tenacity find a
better complement. The new world is "re-
dressing the balance of the old " along our
front in France as on other fields, and is itself
in turn gaining equipoise from contact with
"the Tommy officer," whose gift of order and
discipline has now perhaps won full recog-
nition even with the youngest of the new
world.
THE FRIGHTFULNESS OF THE
BATTLE OF LENS
Mr. Philip Gibbs tells how the Canadians fought
a hard, bloody fight for months on the out-
skirts of the city.
I MET the Canadians first in the old bad
places of the Ypres salient, where in those
early days of the war there was hard, tragic
fighting — for we were horribly outgunned —
and nothing to show for it except the all-en-
during courage of our men. In those long
months of trench warfare — it seemed as
though the Western Front would always be
like that — these Canadian soldiers proved
their quality. They were stubborn in defence
and cunning in attacks across No Man's
i^and, and gave the enemy no rest for his
nerves, and our English lads said : "Those
Canadian chaps are hot stuff; they worry old
Fritz something awful."
At Courcelette, on the Somme, they did
more than worry the enemy. In a great ad-
vance of wave after wave of men they smashed
the enemy out of his defences, destroyed his
machine-gun emplacements, and after a fine ^
stroke of generalship at a critical moment of
the day, when the French-Canadians attacked
at a late hour after a forced march and com-
pleted a brilliant victory, they repelled and '
shattered, that same night, seven desperate
counter-attacks. The winter of 'sixteen
passed on the Somme and round about Cour-
celette, and the Canadians held their lines,
suffering great hardships, sometimes great
agonies, in frost and snow and rain and mud,
and never-ending shell-fire. Then the spring
of 'seventeen came and that day in April,
which I for one will never forget, when the
Canadians, with Highland troops on their
right, attacked the Vimy ridge, and in a few
hours captured that great natural fortress,
with all its tunnels and deep dug-outs and
concrete "pillboxes" and trenches, and sent
thousands of prisoners back into the valley
below.
It was one of the greatest victories in the
history of British arms, and when I went up
among the Canadians that day and afterwards
I saw how the spirit of the men was on fire
with the glory of it. They came laughing
out of the battle. The enormous number of
their prisoners seemed a joke to them. The
scene below the Vimy ridge among the hos-
pital tents and the wagon lines and the am-
munition dumps was like a festival, though
shells came into the middle of it from long-
range guns, as one morning a day or two later
when a Canadian band was playing and a
new batch of prisoners came marching down
to La Targette.
Crash! came a five-point-nine, and it was
the first of a series. The prisoners ran for
their lives. The wounded were moved to a
safer spot. But the band went on playing,
and Canadian soldiers stood around, whistling
to the tunes of it, a few hundred yards from
where the shells were falling. There was
some bloody fighting on the other side of the '
ridge by Oppy and Arleux and Fresnov, and
then began the great siege of Lens, which in
my judgment will be the most memorable
chapter in the history of the Canadian troops
in France. Lens, with all its outlying
suburbs of Li^vin and .Angresand Avion, and
the mining "rites" of St. Pierre and St
CANADA /iV KHAKI
Pane 13
Laurent and St. Augusie, with its slag heaps
and pit heads and mining shafts and water
towers and power stations, was one great
fortress tunnelled from street to street, with
every miner's cottage concreted and sand-
bagged, with machine-gun emplacements
scattered all over this region in frightful
numbers, with field guns hidden in the
houses and back yards, and heavy guns sur-
rounding it. The Canadians invested Lens
closely, forced the enemy to retreat out of
Li^vin, followed him closely, smashed him
out of the Cit^ St. Pierre and other suburbs,
stormed the Bois de Riaumont in the south.
I watched the attack on a summer after-
noon, and later it swept over Hill 70, which
guarded the northern' gateway. It was all
close, hard, grim, bloody fighting. They
fought from house to house, and in the cellars
and tunnels and over trenches dug across the
streets. Two battalions met the enemy out in
No Man's Land, and fought with rifle and
bomb and bayonet until there were few men
left standing on either side. They broke
through the walls of houses from which
machine-gun (ire came in steady blasts, and
in the darkness below ground killed men like
rats. They soaked the city of Lens in poison
gas day after day and night after night in
return for the gas which was poured over
their own batteries and into their own cellars,
so that men perpetually wore their gas masks
and fought in them.
This siege of Lens is the most frightful
episode of warfare on the Western Front, and
did not last for a few weeks only but for
months. Many times I went to the Vimy
ridge to stare down upon that city of death.
On Hill 70 I saw the German dead and
the hideous wreckage of the battle. And in
the ruins of the mining suburbs I met the
Canadian soldiers who had been fighting like
this, and were blanched and haggard and
worn by that cellar life and the awful ordeal
of it.
Blanched and haggard and worn, but
with never any weakening of the grim brave
spirit in them. After the capture of Hill
70 I bent over a man on a stretcher who
was badly wounded in the thigh. "How did
jou get on?" I asked. He looked up and
grinned, and said an amazing thing to me.
"1 enjoyed myself this morning, sir. It was
a fair treat. I wouldn't have missed it for the
world." He had a hole in his leg as big as
my fist, and men had been killed on each side
of him. That is the spirit of the Canadian
soldiers, and it is no wonder that the enemy
is afraid of them, and has a great hatred of
them. In attack they are terrific, ahd in
defence immovable.
"HELL ALL ALIGHT": AN EPIC
OF PASSCHENDAELE
Mr. Percival Phillips graphically describes how
the grim soldiers from Overseas settled an
old account with Fritz.
HE limped into the sand-bagged dressing-
station by Ypres, a muddy, tired,
rather pathetic figure in blood-stained band-
ages. A wounded man on the nearest bench
greeted him as "Bill." Under his uninjured
arm he hugged a German magazine pistol,
and of this trophy he spoke in a husky
whisper, between puffs of a dying cigarette.
"It's a new one," he said, handing the
pistol to his comrade.
"We went through the bloody village," he
continued, "right through Passchendaele,
and over the hill like all hell alight; the devil
himself couldn't have stopped us. . . . Hand
us a cup of that tea; my throat's damned
near cracked."
I give this unedited narrative of victory to
show the Canadian spirit that conquered
Passchendaele— the climax of weeks of weary
fighting in the swamps of Flanders. No
human power could stay the rush of confident
Dominion men across that pile of concreted
rubble on the ridge above Ypres. They
swept over machine-guns and masonry, and
scattered the Huns like sheep. It was the
same fine, steadfast courage which carried
them through Courcelette and up the scarred
face of Vimy, and through the slag and pit-
heads to the gate of broken Lens.
Passchendaele means more to Canada than
the victories of the past. It was the settlement
Page 14
CANADA IN KHAKI
of an old account, dating from the first days
of the Dominion campaign in Belgium. Her
men have never forgotten the second battle of
Ypres. Two and a half years ago the first
little band of Canadian soldiers, hemmed in
by the most powerful army the world had ever
seen, fought stubbornly every foot of their
leluctant journey back into the plain of
Ypres — the heroes of a splendid failure. It
was right that they should come again to that
historic battleground when the Hun had
fallen on evil days — fitting that the crest of his
defeat should be a Canadian triumph on the
slopes they lost.
The Canadians left Lens perhaps a little
unwillingly. Every soldier who fought
among the collieries in the heat and dust of
summer hoped to share in a greater victory.
Lens was a Canadian "claim." But they
answered the summons with alacrity — I do
not think a man among them grumbled — and
when they found that they were destined to
take back the ground they once held above
the Yser marshes they rejoiced.
I saw them marching northward into
Flanders; I talked with their officers, and
heard from all of them the same words of
absolute confidence. They knew the task
before them would be fulfilled. They came
mto the mud and marshes; the heavens
opened, and they were tramping again
through the desert place called Ypres, with
the rain dripping from their metal hats, but
serenely sure of the future.
That same confidence was apparent in many
ways, in many places. You would have seen
it, as I did, in their Corps Commander on one
morning of battle, as he paced slowly, de-
liberately up and down the narrow footway
outside his hut, his hands locked behind him;
halting now and again to hear the news from
a bareheaded staff officer, and resuming his
'aim promenade forward and back between
he trees. It was apparent in the battle head-
quarters underground, where other Canadian
commanders followed the' steady progress of
little flags over their maps by the light of a
kitchen lamp. It found expression in the
words of another general whose battalions
were cast for the final act in this great drama.
I saw him on the eve of battle, and he said to
me: "They will do it; give them a footing
for the ' kick-off,' and they will take Passchen-
daele. I know them."
They did not fail him.' Crouching in his
noisome German dug-out among the craters
— four feet of head room and a sawed-off stool
for his chair — he heard the story of their
progress without surprise, one might almost
say without elation. The runners brought
piecemeal the story of a "clockwork " ad-
vance; at the appointed moment flares shone
among the clouds above the furrowed ridge;
Passchendaele was theirs.
"Good lads," said the General, "I knew
they would do it."
Two and a half years of war have altered
the first Canadian battlefield. The men who
came back did not know it. Polygon Wood
of bitter memories was only a naked mound ;
the timbered slopes about it had vanished in
the storm ; of the trim Flemish villages that
lay between them not a vestige remained —
Zonnebeke, Poelecappelle, Passchendaele — all
wiped away. The victors of the ridge found
only naked brown hills and dead valleys
pitted with shell-holes and patches of foul
water, without one green spot or the sign of
any living thing on the ground they trod.
But the tenants of this evil place had not
forgotten the Canadians. High explosive had
wiped away the face of the battlefield, but not
the tradition that these grim soldiers from
overseas were foes to be respected and feared.
Canada left her mark on the mind of the Hun.
I found it in one miserabjle Prussian, snatched
alive from a reeking dug-out in Passchen-
daele, while the eastern slope was swarming
with fugitives. "We knew the Canadians
were going to attack," he said. . . . "They
are very terrible men."
Passchendaele was more than a victory; it
was retribution. The gaunt British Colum-
bian, fingering his captured revolver as he
waited in the queue of wounded, voiced this
thought. "We settled them," he said, in his
hoarse whisper; "they wouldn't stay to meet
us. They knew they were ' for it.' "
"What are you?'' I asked.
He winked one bloodshot eye.
"Oh," he said, "I'm one of Kitchener's
men."
CAS ADA I\ KHAKI
Page 15
By IC. Heath Eobinson
CAMOUFLAGE FOR THE PROTECTION OF OUR HOME DEFENCES
Page 16
CANADA IN KHAKI
Tommy :
Jimmy: "Well
THE BOMBING PARTY
That's a nasty cough poor old Fritz has got.
the cough ain't goin' to worry "im much longer.
By Will Owen
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page 17
HOW THE CANADIANS CAME TO
THE MOTHERLAND
Mr. Herbert RusselPs impression of a wonderful
scene at Plymouth that looked like a cinema
play.
I HAVE seen the Canadians many times and
under many conditions during the two
years that I have been a war correspondent
upon the Western Front. I recall them
hilarious with delight over the success of the
raiding of enemy trenches, which they were
the first to practise in the winter of 1915-16.
I have met them battered and ragged after
the terrible gruelling t-hey received around
Hooge in June, 1916. I saw them bubbling
over with exultation after their wonderful
triumph upon the Vimy Ridge. I have
caught glimpses of them squeezing the Hun
life relentlessly out of the red and smouldering
city of Lens. What great lads they are 1
What cheery companions ! What incompar-
able soldiers !
But the deepest of all the impressions which
I retain of the Canadians is of their first
arrival in the Motherland. Doubtless two
reasons account for this. Plymouth is my
home; I was there at the time, and in two
years of isolation from all that one holds
dearest, reminiscence will conjure her own
favourite subjects. Then, again, this great
Canadian Contingent of 33,000 strong was the
first batch of troops to arrive in the magnificent
Overseas' rally' to the aid of the little Old
Country, coming at a time when hope for the
future was strong, but concern for the present
deep. We in Plymouth did not know these
sons of the Maple Leaf were coming until they
were right in our midst. For it had been
ariginaliy planned to disembark the Dominion
contingent at Southampton, and it was only
as the great armada was striking soundings
that a cypher wireless conveyed orders for the
change of destination. These orders were
given on the evening of October 14, 1914,
and some warships were dispatched from
Plymouth to strengthen the naval escort
which had accompanied the transports across
the North Atlantic. By the way, it was surely
CHRISTMAS MORNING
TRENCHES
By UuUitiiad
IN THE
"Who pinched that sock I hung up lut night?'
something more than a coincidence that th<
old battleship Glory should have brought up
the wake of that stately procession. Assuredl)
glory has followed the Canadians ever since.
On the morning of October 15, I went foi
a stroll upon Plymouth Hoe. As I ascendec
the slight incline past the spot where Sii
Francis Drake is said to have played his
famous game of bowls, and came within view
of the sea, I saw that it was grey and hazy,
the Breakwater being invisible, and Drake's
Island and Mount Edgcumbe looming in
exaggerated shadows. I gained the esplanade
which crosses the broad ridge, and, walking
as far as the old red-ringed Smeaton Tower,
paused to survey the scene. A few small,
brown-sailed fishing hookers were making for
the Cattewater; beyond them a big steamship
Page 18
CANADA IN KHAKI
was coming directly shorewards, like a vast
phantom emerging from the mist. So many
ocean liners make Plymouth a port of call
that the only point which arrested my atten-
tion in connection with this vessel was the
fact that she should be coming so far up the
Sound ; most of the mail boats anchor in
Cawsand Bay. She was blowing off steam in
a hissing white jet. As she approached the
Melampus Buoy she altered course so that
her length drew out, and then I knew that she
was bound up the Hamoaze, where stretches
the great expanse of the finest naval dockyard
in the world.
A great white patch upon her bow bearing
a numeral gave me to know that she was a
transport, and I grew more interested. As
she continued to grow out of the light
By Thomas Henry
OUR INCORRIGIBLE
Parson: "I had a letter from your chum
George last week ; he told me all about the
battle, and that he saw you fall."
Tommy : " Excuse me, sir, but old George's
a liar ; I was blown up."
"mizzle," as they call it in the West Country,
her details grew more plain. And then sud-
denly, as it seemed to me, like a cinema trans-
formation, her contour seemed to be traced in
khaki. Half-way up her rigging pigmy
figures seemed to swarm in a dense cluster,
and a confused sound of cheering was borne
upon the damp breeze. Then I caught the
wavering strains of a band playing somewhere
on board, and gave a start as the revelatien
came upon me. For the tune was "The Maple
Leaf for Ever."
From the Citadel on my left and the Long
Room Battery under the Hoe to my right
arose the echoes of multitudinous cheering.
A naval petty officer paused at my side and
exchanged looks.
"The Canadians ! " he said, in a voice tense
with pent-up enthusiasm. "Thirty-one trans-
ports chock full of them ! That's the tenth
which has gone up harbour so far."
The prompting of an irresistible emotion
caused me to laugh. A grey destroyer came
churning out of the mist, overtook the trans-
port, and kept station abreast of her. Beyond,
the thin outline of another big ship stole into
view, and her syren gave a prolonged un-
earthly screech. The first vessel continued to
close in towards the promenade pier. The
khaki swarms had ceased to cheer, and were
taking up the refrain of the band. Curiously
enough, the Hoe was almost deserted. Only
a few officials knew that the Canadians were
coming in across the historic haven.
I lingered for about an hour, during which
time several transports grew out of the near
offing, swam slowly past, and disappjeared
around Devil's Point on their way to Devon-
port. Like the first I had seen, they were all
packed with hurrahing troops. It was one of
those episodes which are worth living for,
when the "pride of race" is stirred into a
tingling enthusiasm, and one longs to give
vent to feeling in a burst of shouting. Then
I suddenly awoke to realisation that, as a
newspaper man, this advent of our kinsmen
from the Dominion was going to mean busy
hours for me, and I turned my back upon the
Hoe and the grand Empire pageant which
was still majestically moving across the waters
of the Sound.
1
CAS ADA IN KHAKI
Page l«
By Dykt WkiU
Colonel: "You're in a disgraceful condition! Report yourself to me at 10.30 to-morrow! "
The Absent-Minded One : " Yesh^ sir I '11 put a knot in m' hanky for fear I forget, sir ! "
THE SHORTEST WAY TO THE
FRONT
How a Canadian Recruit Discovered It
By A. ST. JOHN ADCOCK
The Sergeant who drilled us for -weeks and
weeks,
He spoke as a Sergeant mostly speaks :
He said we were nothin' but blinkin' freaks,
An' he roared like the cannon crashes;
My talk isn't always good to tell,
But the Sergeant's words were the kind that
—well.
The kind that you have to try to spell
With dots, an' stars, an' some dashes.
He drilled us for months, an' months, an' he
swore
He'd drill us for ever and evermore ;
So I says to him, "Sergeant, we're sick an'
sore,
Fed up with this drill-book stunt;
I didn't sign on just to romp about
An' play in the sun like a young Boy Scout;
What we want you to do is to uke us out
The shortest way to the Front."
Page 20
CANADA IN KHAKI
"You I" says he. "O, you blankety lot,
I wouldn't be seen at the Front with you, not
For all the dibs that our dash an' a dot
Of a Government ever minted.
Call yerselves men 1 Lord, how was you
made ?
You never was born, an' never was laid,
You're nothin' but blobs o' " (The thing
that he said
Is not allowed to be printed).
'Y' got two left arms, an' yer wind's
unsound,
Y' got two right legs that stick to the ground.
An' yer feet have bin fixed on wrong ways
round,
You're boss-eyed, knock-kneed, barmy;
You're deqf," he says, "you star and a blank,
You can't walk straight an' you can't keep
rank.
You'd pass, maybe, for a shop or a bank,
But you ain't no good for the Army I
"Shoulder arms I Form fours! Quick
march I Keep pace.
Mark time ! Right turn ! Halt 1 You
(censored) disgrace ! "
So he kept us at it all over the place,
Till the sweat rolled off us in streams ;
Seemed as he wanted to cure or to kill,
Nothin' all day but route marchin' an' drill,
An' all night long, if we slept, we was still
A-formin' fours in our dreams.
Then, at last, he spoke as a Christian shud :
"When they brought you to me you was
lumps o' mud,
But now you are men, you are flesh and
blood, '
You are real live soldiers, s'welp me I
An' if you're as square as you orter be,
When the Padre arsks, ' Who made yer ? '
says he,
You'll tell him the truth an' say it was me —
An' Gawd didn't even help me I "
There's several ways to wherever you go,
But there's only one for the blokes what
know ;
They get there quickest by travellin' slow,
An' that's why they're worth their blunt.
I guess it's a howler, at any rate.
To be there too early, or there too late,
An' the Sergeant knew, an' was showin' us
straight
The shortest way to the Front I
THE RUNNERS
An Appreciation by SERGEANT L. McLEOD GOULD
{Inspired bp the Runners of the 102nd Canadian Infantry "Battalion)
When soldiers are ready to drop with fatigue,
And only an Adjutant's brain can intrigue
A vital dispatch to the C.O.'s colleague;
Who are the boys who can still stay a league ?
The Runners.
When wires are broken, and pigeons won't fly,
When shrapnel and whizz-bang are bursting on high,
When hell's on the earth, and earth's in the sky;
Who are the boys who will get through or die ?
The Runners.
So here's to all soldiers of every degree,
Be they horsemen, or gunners, or stout infantry;
But specially those who appeal most to me,
Who tackle their work with a semblance of glee,
The Runners. i
CANADA IN KHAKI
Pane 21
CANADA'S MOST FAMOUS AIR-FIGHTER IS ONLY TWENTY-TWO
Canadians make fine airmen and form a large percentage in the R.F.C. Major W. A. Bishop,
V.C., D.S.O., M.C., has already brought down 37 enemy machines
Major Bishop is boyish and smiling
He looks to the sighting of his deadly gun
Canadian Official Photograph*
Page 22
CANADA IN KHAKI
LIGHT RAILWAYS ASSIST THE CANADIANS TO VICTORY
Canadians run their narrow-gauge lines through the most impossible places
Ammunition going up to the line
Train passing through shelled village
When the Canadians cannot wait for light railways they build cordwood roads. This is the
improvised road on which they followed up victory across Vimy Ridge
Canadian Official Photograpl
CANADA IN KHAKI
Piige 83
CANADA IN HUNLAND
By FREDERIC WILLIAM WILE
Late Berlin Correspoodent of the Vailff Mall
G' ANAUIANS are the most unloved of
men in Germany. Their name, indeed,
strikes such terror to what serves the Hun as
a heart that orders from On High have been
issued to mention it as infrequently as pos-
sible. Gott strafe England is still the prayer
with which Pirate babes are lulled to sleep,
but under the breath of all who utter it is a
second edition reading, Gotl strafe die Kana-
dier: God punish the Canadians!
Sometimes I think that if the War Lords of
Prussia, even in the midst of the orgy of
blood and iron in which Armageddon was
born, could have conjured up the vision of
Ontario's and British Columbia's hundreds
of thousands of armed giants, and of their
comrades from the uttermost regions of the
Dominion — if that prospect could have been
visualised in war-mad Berlin in the dawning
hours of August, 1914; well, to drop into the
vernacular which all gum-chewers and base-
ball "fans" understand, I guess the Kaiser
would have had "another think" coming.
The magnificent way in which Canada
joined up, instead of seizing the opportunity
to set up a Republic — that was the dope
handed out for years by the Benin political
professors — gave Prussianism its first jolt.
But the jolting has been kept up by Canada
in the Field. There are plenty of first-hand
proofs in existence, if I am not mistaken,
that Fritz, who does not face danger without
courage, looks upon fighting Canadians as
about the most unpalatable work that can be
assigned him.
Neuve Chapelle gave him a dose of Canada
that he will remember as long as the history
of the war endures. Vimy Ridge provided
him with some more of the same kind of
medicine. I mention just those two of the
countless gallant engagements in which
Canada in Khaki paid its respects to the
2 II
Boche because I happen lo know that they
left a peculiarly nauseating taste in the Ger-
man mouth.
Somewhere the other day I read that the
Huns call the Canadians "butchers." Well,
if I were a Canadian, I'd be proud of that.
You butchered one of their fondest illusions
by "coming into" the war. And Heaven
knows, you slaughter their most scientific
military arrangements every time you get a
fair chance.
May I make a passing, friendly and
fraternal suggestion to all Canadians in khaki,
who, please God, will, one of these fair days,
be once again peace-loving warriors at home
in the unending struggle of commercial and
industrial pursuits? The Germans, even yet,
dream of the Dominion of Canada as a great
market for German trade. They believe that
Canadians are men and women of short me-
mories. They think that you will be ready
to kiss, make up — and do "business as usual "
with them. They say that Canada "needs
Germany," and they hint that your golden
grain will be welcomed at Hamburg and Bre-
men as of yore, if you will only consent to
allow German manufacturers to flood your
markets with dumped goods and to exploit
Quebec and Vancouver and St. John's for the
benefit of the Hamburg-American line and the
North German Lloyd !
In the name of their immortal comrades
whose bones and blood sanctify a hundred
battlefields in France and Flanders, I hope
Canadian soldiers — the future business men
and farmers of the Dominion — will not for-
give and not forget. If you vow to frustrate
German commercial ambitions in Canada
after the war, you will have dealt the third,
and by no means the least effective, blow to
their crazv miscalculations about you and
your country.
Page 24
CANADA IN KHAKI
THE HOME-COMING OF TOMPKINS. V.C.
By G. M. Paynt
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page U
THE CANADIAN WAR
MEMORIALS FUND
ITS HISTORY AND OBJECTS
CANADA IN KHAKI appears for the
second time for the benefit of the Cana-
dian War Memorials Fund. No apology is
needed for the existence of the book ; it pleads
for itself; and the immediate and striking
success of the first issue is its best justifica-
tion. Yet its readers are entitled to know a
little more of the object to which the proceeds
of the publication are to be devoted,- and of
which but the scantiest details have so far
reached the public.
The idea of an artistic War Memorial is
generally connected with a winged and laurel-
crowned confection in marble and bronze,
erected on some prominent site for the edifica-
tion, or derision, as the case may be, of future
generations. Or, if it take a pictorial form,
it is apt to be a series of unconvincing, melo-
dramatic illustrations, more or less fanciful,
of famous episodes or individual acts of
heroism, that are of little artistic and abso-
lutely no documentary or historical value.
Who can pass through the endless galleries
of battle pictures at Versailles without experi-
encing a sense of invincible boredom? A
War Memorial of this kind, if it is to be of
lasting value, if it is to teach future genera-
tions, to stir their imagination, to stimulate
their patriotic feeling, must be a thrilling
record of facts, based on personal experience.
The question arises, whether a time of trial,
when the collective and general .energy of the
nation should be concentrated on the stern
necessitv of bringing the war to a victorious
issue, is the suitable moment for carrying out
an artistic scheme of unprecedented magni-
tude. The answer can only be : Now, or
never.
If a pictorial record of this greatest of all
wars is to be of permanent value, it must be
created from actual impressions whilst they
are fresh on the mind, whilst emotions and
passions and enthusiasm are at their highest.
A "posthumous" war picture is as valueless
as a posthumous portrait. Only the most
sordid materialism, which regards Art as an
unnecessary luxury, can object to the diver-
sion of a few brilliant men's activity from the
more material needs of the moment. The
immediate object of war is destruction — of
art, creation. Empires, social and political
institutions, whole civilisations crumble and
fade away ; the effects of war, that loom so"
powerfully in the minds of those who take
part in, or witness, the struggle between
nation and nation, are transitory, and are
bound to be modified by future events. But
Art remains to teach posterity of the glorious
past of the race, and to keep alive the flame
of patriotism. Our whole knowledge of
civilisations that have vanished long since —
Egypt, Babylonia, Chaldxa, and so forth —
is derived from the scanty artistic records
that have been saved from the destruction of
Time and War. The visual evidence of one
fragment of art teaches us more, and more
tellingly and rapidly, than whole volumes of
erudition.
These are some of the considerations that
guided the Committee of the Canadian War
Memorials Fund, composed of Lord Rother-
mere (Chairman), Lord Beaverbrook, and
Captain B. L. Lima, in evolving and organis-
ing the great scheme which is to provide
Canada with a magnificent and lasting artistic
record of her noble share in the world's war.
The greatest painters of Canada, of Britain
and the Overseas Dominions, of France and
of Italy, were to be invited to help in creating
a vast series of decorative paintings on an
heroic scale, which will eventually be housed
in a gallery specially built for this purpose on
a prominent and suitable site in Ottawa.
Whilst the nucleus of this collection must
Page 26
necessarily be formed of paintings commenior-
aling the achievements of the Canadian troops
on the battlefields oi Flanders and France, no
phase of activity connected more or less
directly with the war will be disregarded.
The whole vast significance of this war upon
the life of the nation will be reflected in these
paintings, which will deal with the military
training of men accustomed to the peaceful
avocations of the city oflice or the land; the
self-sacrificing devotion of their womenfolk to
the arduous work of the hospital; the expert
activity of Canadian lumbermen in our
forests, cutting down timber for trenches and
hutments and sleepers; of engineers busy
with the construction of railways at the front;
the transport of the Dominion troops across
the Atlantic, and Canadian patrol boats in
the Channel; of aircraft and artillery. Fam-
ous landscape painters will depict the awful
desolation of No Man's Land, and the gaunt
ruins of once flourishing cities and villages.
There will be busts and portrait paintings
of the political and military leaders in this
grim business; and the imaginative aspect of
this Armageddon will be dealt with in one or
two allegorical compositions. The one thing
that is to be strictly excluded is the colour-
less, academic reconstruction from descriptive
material, which has brought the art of the
battle-painter into discredit.
The organisers of the scheme have, so far
as this was in their power, endeavoured to
entrust each subject to the one artist most
likely to do justice to it ; and they have
arranged, in each case, that the fullest facili-
ties should be given to every artist for gather-
ing his material on the spot, and for absorbing
the true atmosphere of the scene. Apart from
having the broad outlines of his subject made
clear to him, and from the rather elastic re-
strictions imposed by the necessity of keeping
a certain unity in the general decorative
scheme, each artist is given tlie fullest liberty
to do whatever may best suit his temperament,
so that the artistic quality of his work may
not suffer from irksome restraint. Those
whose subjects necessitate close inspection of
the trenches and No Man's Land are granted
honorary commissions in the Canadian armv,
to enable them to work on the spot anH fo
CANADA IN KHAKI
ensure absolute truth of fact and of atmo-
sphere.
The first artist thus sent out for the Cana-
dian War Memorials Fund was the Hon.
Major Richard Jack, A.R.A., who has
already completed a remarkable canvas,
measuring 20 ft. by 15 ft., of the second
Battle of Ypres. Though, naturally, not
actually present at the fighting. Major Jack
has carefully investigated and sketched the
whole ground, and has spent some time with
the units which took part in the engagement,
collecting from officers and men all the details
and facts needed for absolute accuracy. Some
of the men who had been through the battle
actually posed for the picture, whilst machine-
guns and all manner of military accoutre-
ments were temporarily placed at the artist's
disposal, whose studio assumed something of
the appearance of a battlefield. It is scarcely
an exaggeration to say that Major Jack's first
picture — a companion canvas is already in
commission — stands so far unrivalled among
British battle paintings.
Though treated in a more pronouncedly
decorative manner. Professor G. Moira's
large painting of Canadian lumbermen cut-
ting down trees in Windsor Park, with the
mighty mass of the Royal Castle towering in
the background, is equally valuable as a faith-
ful record of a specialised branch of Canadian
war activity. Professor Moira is the head of
the Royal College of Art, the principal art
school under the Board of Education, and
enjoys an enviable reputation among modern
decorative painters.
Major William Orpen, A.R.A., the famous
portrait painter, and Major D. Y. Cameron,
A.R.A., wbose achievements both as an etcher
and as a landscape [lainter entitle him to
rank among the masters of twentieth century
art, are at present with the Canadian forces.
Major Orpen with a view to painting for the
Fund a portrait of General Currie and a battle
picture; and Major Cameron bent on studying
the topography and atmosphere of the battle-
fields of Flanders for two typical landscapes
of the fighting zone. The next artist to pro-
ceed to the front with the hon. commis-
sion of Major is Mr. Augustus E. John,
whose ambition it is to paint a trigantic
(
"•J
0.
>-
u.
O
<
ea
Q
2
O
U
u
CO
U
z
CAXADA IX KHAKI
decoration, some 30 ft. or 40 ft. in length,
representing no particular episode, but sum-
ming up in synthetic fashion the impression
created upon a sensitive observer by his
personal experience of modern war.
The essential character of modern warfare,
in which engineering and the invention of
machinery for wholesale destruction play a
part more important even than individual and
collective heroism, a war of giant guns and
tanks, aeroplanes and submarines, poison gas
and liquid fire, has so far found its best inter-
preter in Mr. R. Nevinson, one of the first
British artists sent out by the Imperial
Government to paint for
propaganda purposes.
One of the firstfruits of
his recent visit to the
front is a series of four
frieze-like panels, show-
ing the progress of the
fighting force from the
base to the front line :
first the endless proces-
sion of motor transport
moving along a tree-
planted French road bor-
dered by cultivated
fields; then the rail-head
littered with sleepers
ready for the extension of
the line, and heavy artil-
lery being brought up,
the landscape showing
the first signs of the de-
structive effect of artillery
fire ; then infantry march-
ing to the trenches, a
ruined village, splintered
trees, and similar indica-
tions of the perpetual
threat of death; finally,
the utter desolation and
confusion of No Man's
Land, barbed wire,
ruined trenches, shell
craters, the once flour-
ishing countryside turned
into a grim and weird in-
ferno. This fine series
of paintings has been
acquired by the Ca
Fund.
It would be fatiguinglv
a full list of the artists e
portant works for the Fund^
allotted to each of them accorai
ticular bent of his talent. It is e.
that all the leading painters of th«
been approached with a view to thei
ment ; and that, w ith one or two inevitable
ceptions, in the case of artists overburden
with work or prevented by ill-health, the pr<>
posals of the Committee have been accepted
in the most generous and enthusiastic spirit.
THE EVOLUTION OF THE FIGHTING
By C. Harrison
MAN
C^INADA IN KHAKi
that Canadian artists
aong the contributors,
or instance, is to paint two
."ie ruins of Ypres and of
yndham Lewis, a native of
j4nd at present an artillery officer
inForces, will embody his know-
experience in an important repre-
e picture of a Canadian gun-pit ;
"jRations have been opened with Mr. Mor-
rice, the doyen' Canadian painier in Paris;
and several young Canadian artists, who hold
commissions in the Dominion army, are busy
collecting sketches at the front which will con-
stitute a valuable record of actuality, or .
may serve as material for more ambitious
paintings.
Finally, it may be worth noting that the
Canadian War Memorials Fund is, as it
were, entirely self-supporting. There is no
Government grant. The artists will be paid
from the proceeds of the amazingly success-
ful official Canadian War Photogrraphs Ex- j
hibitions, and of publications issued by the '
Canadian War Records Office. Canada in
KHAKI stands foremost among these publica-
tions. Its success is bound up with the suc-
cess of the Fund.
The Secretary.
'Good mornin'. Harbourmaster I When does the tide go out?'
Sy MacMichari
J
u
r
e
it6
<
a.
a:
o
CO
Q
2
2 =
OS =•
u ..
2 =^
a -^
< 4
2 =
a.
e
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page »
FROM THE LAND OF THE GOLD
AND SNOW
By HENRY CHAPPELL
What spell hath drawn them, these men from
the snows,
From the mart, the trail, and the forests old.
And the waiting harvest that, wind-kissed,
flows
In sheeny billows of bronze and gold ?
O I the trump of War to the four winds blown.
And the Mother's call from her sea-girt throne.
They armed them, sped them, and led the van.
Faith in the soul of every man.
How have they fared them, these warriors
brave?
Their deeds are told by the camp fires' Aare
'Neath the shadowy pines that whisp'ring
wave,
And told in the roaring cities' glare.
O 1 they fared them far, and they quit them well,
Their legions drove at the gates of hell,
Shocked them, sundered, and o'er them
swirled,
Waves of the tide that saved the world.
What have they compassed, these noble
sons.
Sons of the land of the gold and snow.
The dead who fell to the hungry guns,
And the quick who hazard the final
throw ?
O ! quick and dead they have rent a chain
Whose links had birth in a madman's
brain.
Were forged and tensed by a madman's zeal
To bind the world to his chariot wheel.
What have they builded, these quick and
dead,
With priceless mortar and sacred clay ?
Is it worthy the souls untimely sped,
Hath the Mother pride in their work
to-day ?
Aye ! for on pillars strong and true.
Linking the Old World with the New,
A bridge of hearts o'er the gulf is thrown,
Their deathless Faith as the corner stone.
THE SILENT TOAST
By LT.-COL. CANON FREDERICK GEORGE SCOTT
(Senior Chaplain First Canadian Division)
They stand with reverent faces,
And their merriment give o'er,
As they drink the toast to the unseen host.
Who have fought and gone before.
It is only a passing moment
In the midst of the feast and song,
But it grips the breath, as the wing of death
In a vision sweeps along.
No more they see the banquet
And the brilliant lights around;
But they charge again on the hideous plain
When the shell-bursts rip the ground.
And out of the roar and tumult.
Or the black night loud with rain.
Some face comes back on the fiery track
And looks in their eyes again.
And the love that is passing woman's,
And the bonds that are forged by death,
Now grip the soul with a strange control
And speak what no man saith.
The vision dies off in the stillness,
Once more the tables shine.
But the eyes of all in the banquet hall
Are lit with a light divine.
ra^e
CANADA IN KHAKI
IRRECLAIMABLE
A Short Story
By R. S. WARREN BELL
Author of "Young Couples," "Company for George," "Tales of Greyhouse." etc.
A YOUNG man of medium height and
neatly built, sunburnt and clean-shaven,
the word "Canada" on his khaki shoulder
affording him a label and a gold stripe on his
arm distinction, alighted from a motor-train at
DeephoUow and, having limped a few steps
up the platform, turned and watched the odd
little locomotive buzz away through the quiet
meads.
No stationmaster in Authority's grand cap
was there to greet him, no porter stood at the
gate to receive his ticket. For it was not a
station, only a Halt. Tickets were issued and
collected by the conductor of the queer little
train. The queer little station, with its
primitive shed of a waiting-room and isolated
aspect, rather reminded the traveller of the
measureless Dominion he had long months
ago left behind.
There was at least a bench on the platform,
and, being in no hurry, he sat down on it,
lit a fag, and became lost in reverie.
Ten years — ten years it was since he had
been at DeephoUow. For he was an English-
man who, like many another thousand gallant
lads, had answered the Old Country's sum-
mons. But ten years is a long time, and the
DeephoUow boy was not a DeephoUow man.
His new country called to him, she had found
his heart. Nevertheless this old one, with its
toy fields and hedges, its still, old farm-
houses and unbusiness-like barns, was very
dear to him. I dare say you can understand
Jim Brigstock's feelings, divided as they were
between his new and old love.
Ten years ! He was a lad then, and a
caution ! He smiled. It was because he had
made DeephoUow too warm for him that he
had got away to Canada. But for the uni-
form he was wearing — a passport everywhere
•o men's respect — perhaps he would not have
ventured to show his face again at Deep-
hoUow. He had gone from the familiar
pastures of his youth to a strange land where
it didn't matter in the least how bad you
were or had been so long as you did your
whack of work. Nothing else was asked of
you in a country of such great spaces that
the whole of this mighty little England, this
imp of an island that has somehow become
possessed of half the globe, would make but
a patch of it. But he knew that standards of
conduct were necessarily stricter in the little
Mother Country.
"And yet," he thought, "I wasn't so bad."
It is comfortfng to know that you are not
half so black as the world paints you, that
your Conscience is a good chum rather than
an upbraiding monitor. Jim felt and looked
pretty easy about the past. After all, young
shoulders don't carry old heads, and what
you do at sixteen or thereabout ought not to
be thrown in your face when you're twenty-
six. Jim, however, didn't care if it was. He
had come here for a purpose, and he cared
not how DeephoUow looked upon the re-
turned prodigal. All DeephoUow, that is,
save one. He was curious about that one.
The latch of the platform gate clicked, and
he saw a bucolic lass in a blue railway cap
and dress approaching him. After all, some-
body had to light and extinguish the lamps,
keep the place tidy, and answer questions.
A few years ago this girl (who had been a
milkmaid before she took up with the railway)
would have betrayed a becoming diffidence
on finding herself alone at a wayside station
with a Man, but on such a pricelessly new
footing has the Empire's war set the Empire's
daughters that the girl-porter looked as un-
concerned as if she had been chaperoned by
a thousand fierce old ladies.
CANADA IN KlIAKJ
Page 31
"She checked the horse and regarded him carefully.
know me?'
Hjl K. If'ollcouiiiiiti
'Joan,' he said, 'don't you
"Ibbsclaimable'
Page 32
CANADA IN KHAKI
CANADIAN PIONEERS AT WORK UNDER FIRE IN FRANCE
Splitting trunks of trees into logs for reinforcing trenches
Shelled only to be felled
Steel helmets often save the men
Canadian Official Photographs
CANADA IX KHAKI
Page 33
TANKS NOW ACCOMPANY THE CANADIANS INTO ACTION
The terrible machines which strike terror into the Boches are fascinating to the French children,
who have begged these Canadians to show them "how the wheels go round"
A Tank snapshotted as it was heavily engaged on Vimy Ridge
Canadian Official Photographs
Page 34
CANADA IN KHAKI
THE CORPS COMMANDER DIRECTS AN ATTACK
Striking study of Lieut. -Genl. Sir A. W. Currie, C.B., K.C.M.G., during a recent offensive
L.l.\AI)A IS KHAKI
Page 35
Besides, he was a soldier.
"Any luggage?" she asked casually.
"No. I've just come over from Ironville."
"See your folks?"
"No. 1 have no folks here. 1 had once,
but they've gone away."
The girl gazed approvingly on the blue
band and tiie snip of gold braid on the
traveller's arm.
"There's twenty VVoundeds at the Hall,"
she said, and went off briskly to the little
official hutch adjoining the waiting-shed —
possibly to get a broom.
Jim Brigstock was burning to ask her a
question. But he dared not. He would —
investigate. Yes. So tie rose and walked
through the gateway, the girl flinging him a
smile from the door of her hutch as he passed
out.
The soldier's eyes searched his environ-
ment hungrily for familiar landmarks. From
the lane — it was only a lane — an Approach
had been cut to the Halt; it was an unlovely
thing, and^jim was glad to leave it and find
himself treading the lane of old times. Ah !
there was the cottage where the old woman
would give them a drink of water. A young
woman stood in the front garden now, with
a baby in her arms. That would be the old
lady's little grand-daughter grown up! With
a baby. Jim smiled. Some sodger's kid,
he'd swear.
.•\nd there was the old hollow stump of a
tree, ivy-clad, that they used to climb.
A little farther on he'd come to the place
where four roads met and a battered sign-post
directed you on your way. Here, he had
been told when a lad, at this place where four
roads met, in bygone times they buried
suicides with a stake through their bodies.
Jim recalled that he'd always gazed upon that
mound of green with awe, hurrying past it
.at dusk. He rounded a corner to fin^ that
the old post, gnarled and green, had been
replaced by a smart young fellow with new
black lettering. One arm said "To Deep-
hollow, i],{ miles," and he followed that
road.
He did not like the change of posts, and
wondered whether the village held other such
changes for him
Now he ascended a hill. Below him,
when he reached its brow, would lie Deep-
hollow, while just over the hill would be the
Loosemores' farm. He walked slowly, for,
after ten years and a lot of lighting, and quite
a time in hospital while his shattered kne«
mended, he found himself drawn back to his
native village by the rather forlorn hope of
seeing again, or at least hearing something
of, the girl he had known as a boy — Joan
Loosemore.
Not that they had been sweethearts —
though to be sure he had been a courtier.
But she was the only girl he had ever given
a second thought to. Yes ; all these long ten
years he had been occupied with a man's
business, tirst farming, then fighting, and
never a woman had intruded to trouble him.
But at the back of his thoughts and heart
there had nestled the image of the girl he
had paid boy-court to. Just she, and none
other. Not surprising, then, his pace
slackened, his confidence failed a little, now
he was so close.
Just over the hill and — he would be there.
Hakf inclined, he felt, to turn back. Why,
she would have forgotten him ; she would
have gone away ; she'd be married and done
for. "Out of sight, out of mind." Surely
this was a fool's journey ! And he stopped
altogether. For would she even remember
him, he being only sixteen — ^though well-
grown for it — and she fourteen ; yet a very
self-possessed, mistressful fourteen.
He stood there swinging his ash stick.
This resolute-looking man, with whom to act
promptly and decisively was second nature,
halted in an agony of vacillation.
Somebody coming. Well, he would — yes,
he would just ask. Casually, bringing in
Farmer Loosemore first. It was a girl on a
horse. Another innovation. A girl dressed
half as a man, astride a big cart-horse. She
wore a wide linen cap, a holland smock, cord
breeches and leggings. She looked business-
like, and yet (like the rest) not a bit mascu-
line. And w hy was that ? Because they
weren't apeing men. They were just "carry-
ing on." Doing the men's work. And these
costumes were merely part of it.
It was a big horse and a good one — Jim
Page 36
CANADA IN KHAKI
could spot a good horse
in a trice. She sat him
gracefully, and she was
pretty big too. He
looked at her intently. . .
It was She I
Yes, it was Joan —
Joan with ten years gone
over her. A slip of a
girl she had been when
he left her, 'tis true, but
a lanky slip. She had
promised stature — to be
a "fine" woman. Jim,
though he was no
woman's man, knew
when he liked a woman's
lines. Joan, the mere
slip of a girl, had grown
mto a rare handsome
woman.
He saluted her. She
nodded and smiled.
Khaki was everywhere,
and no doubt she had
met this Tommy some-
where. Possibly he was
one of those who had
been lent for the hay-
making.
But he took a step for-
ward. "Joan," he said,
don't you know me?"
She checked the horse
»nd regarded him care-
fully.
Then she dropped the
halter and sprang to the ground.
"I was only thinking to-day
began.
"Thinking what?"
"Thinking what a long time it was since
you went away."
■ And what made you think of me ? "
Why," she said, quite simply (though she
wa-. a woman full grown, and a fine one), "I
have often thought of you."
"Though I was but a nipper — and you
too."
"But we were— exceptionals." She half
"What are we having, Mick — Irish stew?"
"No; sardines, now ye've got out av yer tin."
By Byron
she
turned her face away. Then, with pleasure
lighting her face and something else her eyes
— or did he fancy it? — she held out her hand.
"We haven't shaken hands, Jim."
"No more we have, Joan."
They shook hands. She let him hold hers
a little time — an old friend returned ! — but he
held it so long that at length, with a touch
of extra colour in her face (for the sun had pui
much there), she withdrew it a bit abruptly.
"I'm taking the horse down to turn him
loose." She grasped the halter. "Shall we
walk along? "
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page 37
"Sure. But you will ride?"
"No, I will walk."
They walked on. There was nobody about.
They had the lane absolutely to them-
selves, and it was a lovely late-autumn after-
noon.
" Did you know where I was, Joan ? "
"Why, of course. I knew you'd be
there."
"I'm glad you reckoned me among it. But
before ? "
"No, I've never heard a word. I knew you
were in Canada — that's all."
He asked after her father and mother and
other people. The interval that had elapsed
offered no great surprises. Life flowed
smoothly and uneventfully at Deephollow.
The same vicar was there, the same doctor.
But Ironville, the great manufacturing town
fourteen miles distant, was coming closer. A
few well-to-do town people, availing them-
selves of the Halt, had built rather fine
houses on the outskirts of the village. There
was talk of putting up a road or two of villas
and running a motor-bus service from Iron-
ville.
Jim shuddered.
"That spoils a countryside," he said.
" Horses never do."
"I think we'll escape," said Joan, "as Mr.
Matthews, who owns most of the land here-
abouts, wants too long a price."
"Mr. Matthews was old when I went
away," mused Jim. "He must be old for
work now."
"Not too old to bargain. But he has re-
tired. Only Mr. Harold goes to the office in
Ironville now. Motors in."
"Oh I " The ejaculation was an indifferent
one. . Jim wasn't interested in the Matthewses,
father or son. Many years since, Mr.
Matthews senior, an Ironville lawyer, had
discovered Deephollow and bought an old
country house there to make his home in.
Jim had reason to remember the hawk-faced
Ironville business man, yet for the moment
he dismissed him from his mind.
For !his conversation was just fencing —
golfers would say the two young people were
playing "approach" shots. The village and
its personalities were all very well, but what
of hcT? In ten years one looks out of the
window a good many times, and not always
disinterestedly.
The horse was freed of the halter, turned
loose, and the gate shut on him. There was
a stile by the gate. While Jim lounged with
his arm over the gate, Joan seated herself on
this stile. He drew out his cigarette case.
" May I ? "
"You've grown manners, Jim. Why,
certainly."
She crossed her shapely legs, right over
left, and locked her hands round her knees
as he lit a cigarette.
"You?" he asked, holding out the open
case.
She laughed, shaking her linen-capped
head. "No, I haven't learnt Town ways."
(They called Ironville "town" at Deejv
hollow.) "But I'll have a whiff of yours."
And taking the cigarette from bim she drew
in the smoke, coughed delightfully, fought
the smoke away, and gave the fag back to
him.
"This is an honoured one," said Jim, nip-
ping off the burnt end and replacing the fag
in his case.
Again, one might conjecture, that was not
all sunburn on her face. "You always were
— silly," she said, with a toss of her capped
head.
As if to fill in a space, he said, "I'm glad
you don't smoke. I hate to see girls smok-
ing."
A little tempestuously, she reversed the
position of her knees, left over right now.
Furtively Jim took stock of this quaint new
apparel.
"You see more of me now," she said; and
laughed.
"And so do other chaps," replied Jim
grimly. And suddenly seized the brown,
smooth hand lying nearest to him. "Is there
another chap, Joan?"
He saw just a huge linen cap and her pro-
file.
"Yes."
" Damn ! " said Jim fervently. And then,
between his teeth, "Who?"
"Harold Matthews."
Jim seemed to be listening, as if to make
h'af:e 38
CANADA IN KHAKI
Granfa' (pointing to Maple Leaf on cap): "What's yon reckon to be?'
Young Soldier (trying to be smart) : " Oh, that's the rising sun ! "
Granfa' : " Na, lad, I wasn't meanin' yer face."
ByG.S. Dixon
sure. Then, "I'll kill him," he said tersely;
and strode away from the stile into the road,
where he stood with the back of his sturdy,
khaki-clad figure turned to her.
She sat still, hands clasping the top bar
of the stile. Presently he returned slowly.
"Do you love him, Joan?"
" Do all people marry for love ? "
" You do not I " he shouted. (Splendid
place in which to give way to a little emotion,
these unfrequented country lanes.) "Then
why are you going to marry the twister?"
"I'm not married to him yet. And please
be polite."
"I beg your pardon." He put his elbow
on the gate-post and looked up at her re-
proachfully. "Couldn't you have bided a
bit?"
"You amuse me, James Brigstock," the
girl cried. (She was annoyed now, and he
was pleased to observe that she was.) "Who
and what were you, Jim, when you left Deep-
hollow ? "
"A bit of a lad who worshipped you."
"But you had robbed Mr. Matthews's
orchard."
"To give you the apples."
"You had stolen money from your step-
mother."
"To buy you trinkets."
"You threw a stone through the great new
stained-glass window in the church."
"Because you had angered me by jeering
at me and going out with Jack Tarply in-
stead of with me."
"And you fought the policeman who came
to take you."
" And hurt him, so he had to let me go. . . .
And so I got away." She drew a deep
breath. "Yes, you got away just in time."
" Well ? "
"Well, that was how you went. And never
*.' f
umi mi. -III. i.v
TAKE COVER
By MacMxehaci
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page 39
a word came. Not a card. Folks said you
had gone to Canada. Then you turn up
again after ten years and asii me why I
couldn't have 'bided ' for you I Oh, Jim 1 "
"Oh, Joan ! " He would have grasped her
hands, but she locked them behind her.
"Yes, I'm unreasonable. Wonder is you're
not married and got a pack of kids."
She laughed consumedly. "You men are
so simple," she said demurely.
"But why," demanded Jim in desperation,
"are you going to marry him? Will you
reconsider it ? "
"That requires consideration."
"Of course, he's rich."
" Will be." She sighed. "And father owes
them money. One has to think of him."
"And hasn't father to think of you?"
"He thinks — it's square enough."
Jim groaned. "Oh, Joan, don't make
yourself miserable for life."
"Indeed I shan't do that!" she said
sharply. "He's not a bad fellow — and very
patient."
A glimmer of hope showed in the soldier's
face.
"You've kept him waiting?"
She passed the tip of her tongue over her
white teeth.
"I've got to help father during the war.
Short of men, he is."
"I see. You're to be married when the
war's over ? "
"Something of that sort."
"Poor — dear— Harold I " breathed Jim with
the utmost sympathy. "There's you and
there's him and there's the church — and it
might be in Quebec for all he can reach it.
Yes ! We men are so simple."
More collected now, he took another cigar-
ette out of his case and lit it.
"Well, Joan dear, I hope you'll be happy."
"I shouldn't be surprised."
He consulted his wrist-watch.
"I'm glad I've come over. I've leSrnt
about things quite soon. Shall I come
again ? "
"I think you'd better not."
"It is as you please. Biit I'd like to see
>ou again — for once." He threw away his
ciKar^tte and spoke earnestly. "Come and
spend just one day at Ironville with me. A
day and night. W^e'll ' picture ' and dine
and do a theatre. You have an aunt there,
haven't you? Well, you'll be visiting your
aunt. Just one day, Joan — give me one day."
"May I tell Harold?"
"Yes, if you don't mean to come."
She laughed. If you ran keep a girl
laughing, she'll like you. Perhaps love you.
Because Life is, on the whole, a dull affair.
Man was first tempted in a garden. The
aroma, the nature scents, the world as it was
created — this is the environment for tempta-
tion. And it was only for one day. One
day after a ten years' silence. And then
silence again — and Harold.
"All right," she said, all at once.
"Where?"
" Midland station. When ? "
"Saturday at twelve. Busy — must be busy
—till then."
"Sure thing?"
"Sure thing," she mlirmured wistfully.
"I'll give you a day, Jim."
The fair weather of their first meeting was
gone, and Indoors had that invitingness
which inclement conditions without invari-
ably lend it. But even when the roads are
heavy, the hedges dripping, and not a vestige
of promise appears in the leaden skies, a
countryside must ever possess a charm for
those whose sense for the real is not deadened
by a brick-and-mortar existence. Even the
sight of country people arriving at a big
central station in a great town is a refreshing
breath of the Beyond. Their rough-and-
ready clothes, their strong boots, their healthy
faces betoken the wisdom of their choice.
Jim Brigstock rather liked the wet edge the
day had as he awaited the little motor-train
half an hour before it was due. How he
had got through the intervening time he
could not have told you. Controlled in all
his ways, as a soldier is, and especially a
Canadian soldier, he had betrayed an un-
usual restlessness. With a colonist's thirst
for taking stock and acquiring information,
he had "beaten " the art gallery, the museum,
the library, and other public institutions of
enlightened and progressive Ironville unti'
Page 40
CANADA IN KHAKI
he knew them by heart. For the atmosphere
of a saloon bar choked him. He Hked lofty
halls and wide staircases. His blue eyes were
the eyes of a man accustomed to scan far hori-
zons. And if there was a touch of devil in
them, that is what you look for in the eyes
of a gentleman of fortune.
Impatiently he paced the platform, thread-
ing his way through hampers of dairy pro-
duce, crates of live birds, platoons of milk-
cans, and odd deposits of personal luggage.
Careful-stepping for all his absence of mind,
not once did he trip over any article of this
miscellany nor come into collision with a
hurrying passenger. He even, compliant as
a Boy Scout, helped an old lady with her half-
score of packages, convoying her to the cab-
rank, shutting her in with her property, and
giving the address clearly to the cabman.
Not a few noticed the neat, alert soldier go to
the old lady's rescue, and to these mid-
English folk, distant from ships and the voice
of guns booming in anger, the "Canada" on
his shoulder conveyed a distinct sense of the
Empire's world-embrace.
But Jim Brigstock had no thoughts just
now for England, or war, or the reasons of
war. He was watching that distant curve in
the line where the motor-train from Deep-
hollow was to be first sighted. Though he
knew it couldn't possibly be expected yet —
and he was such a practical man I
Up and down among the porters' barrows,
the damp pedestrians, the automatic machines
— most impudent profiteers ! — he paced in a
fever of impatience. Yet to outward appear-
ance he was calmness itself. More than one
country girl shot a not very shy glance at
him, but there was no response. His thoughts
were following the line from Deephollow
Halt to Ironville. Yet they should not have
been I For was she not another's ?
Suppose she didn't come? Suppose, at
prudence's bidding, she turned back at the
last moment, in the way women have ? For
the impulse that says "Yes" recklessly will
as hastily say "No." What would he do
then, stranded, disappointed, left! Wait for
the next train and the next, and then give it
up? Give it up. And turn back into the
^own the loneliest, man in the world.
By Arthur Let
" Did you ever see the Kaiser when you
were in France ? "
" Well, no, mum, I can't say I did. But I
saw some horrible sights out there all the same ! "
At the far end of the platform a garrulous
old gentleman accosts him. "And how do
you like Old England, sir?" Hang the old
buffer ! But he must be polite. He just
loves Old England, and greatly admires the
fine buildings of Ironville. The old gentle-
man is an Ironville enthusiast. He dis-
courses eloquently on the opulence, the pro-
gressiveness of Ironville. Take the police !
Was there ever a better organised body?
Jim's eyes wandered ominously towards a
hefty woodman's axe that was propped
against a seat. How could he get rid of this
well-meaning bore 1 What time was it?
Three minutes past twelve! Suppose, arriving
and not seeing him, she took fright and
popped back into the motor.«train
"Ohl Here you are!"
The old gentleman smiled benignly and
understandingly as Jim, forgetting him com-
CAMADA IN KHAKI
Page 41
By H. M. Batman
AWFUL FATE OF THE MAN WHO ATE HIS IRON RATIONS
Page 4S
CANADA IN KHAK!
pletely, turned to find Joan at his elbow. He
suired at her— she looked so different. She
\va- transmogrified. Become a wagoner for
war-time, she was changed again to a woman.
\one could have taken exception to her smart
hat. her well-shaped boots, her trim raincoat,
her kid gloves. Jim took in the ensemble
quickly — and the blush on her face. He held
out his hands, but she, very properly, ac-
cepted only one of them.
" Fancy making me hunt for you ! "
"I'm real sorry."
He was a little thunderstruck by the change
in her appearance, and she was not displeased
by that. But how awkward these men were !
She would have to take command of the ex-
pedition, Jim following her like an obedient
collie. She didn't altogether like this.
"Well, come on," she said, slipping her
gloved finger-tips round his arm.
And then Jim woke up. She was here — in
the flesh and blood. His elbow closed on
his side, imprisoning her hand.
"This is good," he breathed, and piloting
her out into the station-yard he hailed a taxi.
"Oh, I'll walk, Jim," she said, with a
thought for his soldier's purse.
"Not a step," he replied, holding the door
open for her. He gave an address to the
driver, and got in. As the taxi wheeled off
he seized her hand and kissed it through the
glove.
"Jim, you must not ! Or I'll be sorry I've
come."
He smiled. If she objected to that
Through the crowded streets they spun,
and lo ! the taxi stopped at the gates of a big,
grey building.
"Here we are," quoth Jim.
She peeped out. "Where?"
He alighted, and held out his hand. They
were outside a church.
" Wait," said Jim to the driver, and led her
•within the gates. It~was drizzling, and no-
body bothered about them.
"Jim," she said in a scared way, "what
does this mean ? "
"You know," he said. "You are going to
do me the honour of marrying me."
"Oh, Jim, I can't. I'm'pledged."
"To a man you don't love. Pledged to go
through a ceremony that will be a mockery.
Think of that ! "
"But— father 1"
"/'//see him through."
"Jim, it's not right." But she was yield-
ing, and he was filled with an intoxicating
sense of triumph.
"I love you, Joan," he said, "and you lo\e
me. If you didn't, you wouldn't have
kept Matthews off. You were waiting for
me — and didn't know it. I was in love with
you when I stole for you. You were meant
for me, and if you marry any other man,
before God it would be a sin. . . . And now,
the gentleman is waiting. He's been oblig-
ing. They manage these things quickly for
soldiers."
Tenderly but firmly he took her hand — and
rejoiced. It was his.
"And now," she said, as she stood again
with him within the railings, while the two
soldier friends who had been in attendance
chatted light-heartedly with the taxi-maVi, "1
suppose we've got to face — father."
She felt like a bather swept off his feet by
an irresistible wave. But the gold emblem
on her finger was very real.
"No," he said, "I'll wire before we start
for London. We'll just have time to give
these boys some lunch at the Grand before
we catch our train."
"But, clothes, Jim, clothes! I'm a
woman."
"You are," he said admiringly. "W^ell,
while they have their coffee we'll slip out and
buy some."
"'Grand '—'buy some.' But it'll all be a
great expense, Jim."
He laughed. "I've a ranch as big as this
county. I've made good, Joan. Do you
mind very much my being rather — rich? But
I thought I'd steal you before I told you."
She sighed. "You're worse than when you
went away, Jim ! "
"I think I'll begin to turn over a new
leaf— after this."
And there, within the grim railings, in the
drizzle, he stole his first husband's kiss.
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page 43
"THE CANUCK"
By Snaffles
Page 44
CAXyiDA IX KHAKI
LIEUT.-GENL. SIR R. E. W. TURNER, V.C., C.B., K.C.M.G., D.S.O.,
Commanding Canadian Forces in the British Isles
Canadian Official Photograph
CANADA IN- KHAKI
Page 46
WE ARE WINNING— BUT
SEND US MORE MEN!
By LIEUT..GENL. SIR R. E. W. TURNER, V.C..
C.B., R.C.M.G., D.S.O.
TO the last day of history, Canada will be
proud and glad that when the sudden
and unlocked for call came in 1914, she did
not hesitate to throw herself into the struggle.
Even when war was declared, however, the
great majority of the people of Canada did
not understand that for Germany it was
indeed a war of "World-Power or Down-
fall," which had been long and deliberately
planned and prepared. It was the common
instinct for the truth and the right, rather
than any reasoned argument, which drew
Canada to the side of Great Britain in the
struggle.
But the truth was soon revealed. Ger-
many's shameless disregard for treaties and
honour, her creed that "necessity knows no
law," and the immediate self-revelation of
the Hun as butcher and bully in Belgium,
were quick to open eyes which had been shut
and to shatter illusions which had been
cherished as to Germany's civilisation.
Now, every day it becomes more and more
apparent that it is a War of Humanity
against a nation of Ishmaelites. Every day
it becomes more apparent how complete
would be the enslavement of the world if the
Germans triumphed. Every day it becomes
more apparent, in the words of Sir Robert
Borden, that "Canada's first line of defence
is in the trenches in Flanders."
There are no uncertainties in the world so
great as the uncertainties of war. After
three years of bitter struggle, the Allies seem
to be slowly gaining the ascendancy. But
one never can tell. No man can yet say when
this war will end. It is impossible to say
whether sudden collapse on the part of the
enemy may bring the war to a speedy and
unlooked-for end. It is impossible to say
whether the war is well nigh over, whether
we are half-way through it, or only at the
beginning of it. We only know, as General
Smuts, that great Empire soldier and states*
man, has told us — we are bound to win.
But whether we are nearly at the end of tha
war, or half-way through it, or only at the
beginning of it, we know that Canada will
be in it to the end.
Of this we are certain, though the people
of Canada are not a militarist race. They
knew indeed so little of war that our young
men, when they rushed to the colours, had
an idea that they would be in the fighting
line within a few weeks. And that, to their
lasting honour, was their dearest .wish. It
was a terrible disappointment when, dumped
on to Salisbury Plain, they found the period
of training barring their path, as it were,
to the Field of Glory Overseas.
It was a sobering check. But not a mar
who fought at Ypres was not thankful for the
hard, grinding training and discipline to
which he was subjected, before he was thrown
into battle with the Kaiser's troops. To
rigid discipline and careful training, com-
bined with the valour of our rnen, are du*-
also our later successes on the Somme, Vimy
Ridge, and before Lens.
Nothing can ever detract from the glory of
the men who stopped the gap at Ypres. Bui
they were, in spite of their training, as raw
and untrained troops in comparison to the
reinforcements we are now sending Overseas.
We, if Canada, hate war, detest its science,
and are nfced by the gruelling training which
is necessary for so damnable a trade. But
we are quick, we are adaptable, and we are
thorough ; and although we may be an army
of civilians and are proud of it— and are deter-
mined that if we must fight, we shall still
remain an army of civilians — our men in
S II
Page 48
CANADA IN KHAKI
France to-day are veterans trained as severely
and as thoroughly as any levies of the
Kaiser's.
But the spirits of the two Armies are, of
course, as wide apart as the poles. In the
German troops we faced at first an astonish-
ingly virile and determined Army borne
onwards by the tradition of Victory and the
lust of conquest. But those Divisions have
melted, as, alas 1 have melted the English
Divisions of the First Expeditionary Force.
To-day, we have opposite us men who know
that the bubble of World-Conquest has been
pricked, and lads who are steeped in the
spirit of revolt against the order of things
in the Fatherland, before they are hurled into
the ranks.
The end cannot be doubted, but it can only
be achieved by hard training, and hard fight-
ing inspired by high thinking. It is dogged
does it. But there is a long way to go yet.
That is why we must, in the words of
Kitchener, "have men, and still more men,
until the enemy is crushed."
That is why, at the present moment, the
men in France are looking so anxiously to-
wards home. Reinforcements are still the
need of the hour. Guns we have, and ammu-
nition we have, such as Sir John French said
the other day he never even dreamed of.
But still we need more men.
To the men in the" trenches, it seems in-
credible that any man at home should lag
behind.
This is not a question that should be re-
garded as politics at all. It is a' question of
National, of Imperial Necessity. It is a
question of life or death, victory or defeat.
That is why I hope that, as surely as this
book will reach Canada, the voices of the men
in the Field will reach Canada, too, and in
such an insistent chorus that they cannot be
drowned.
We all feel confident that our need for men,
and still more men from the land of our birth,
has only properly to be understood for the
need to be supplied.
The prospect of reinforcements may look
black for the moment, but neither I, nor any
soldier in the Canadian Expeditionary Force,
knowing what Canada has already done, can
believe that our Motherland will fail us now.
Nothing has so impressed itself on my mind
as the overwhelming welcome which has
been given to the Canadians in England, and
the utterly unselfish and chivalrous way in
which the English blazon forth whatever we
may do for the admiration of our Allies. And
this welcome never grows less warm, and the
chorus of praise never slackens, although per
head of the papulation, we have not con-
tributed so many men as have the British
themselves.
Thus, in addition to the duty to our men
in the Field, we have also a dyty to the
Motherland which is fighting our battle every
whit as much as she is her own.
Whether the Editor of Canada in Khaki
intended me to devote the space which he
offered to me in this manner, I cannot tell,
but I am sure he will forgive me when I say
that I seized this opportunity only because
I knew that I should be filling a very wide
pulpit from which to appeal to my country-
men to sink their differences and to send us
more men!
HARVEST SONG
By H. SMALLEY SARSON
" Tis harvest time, 'tis harvest time,
The corn lies stocked on the stubbled plain.
Scythe and sickle sing their song,
In tune and time as they move along;
"'Tis harvest time, 'tis harvest time.
We gather the golden grain."
" 'Tis harvest time, 'tis harvest time.
Red is the harvest we must reap."
In the whine of shrapnel overhead
The guns sing loud to the live and dead
"'Vis harvest time, 'tis harvest time,
We gather that you shall weep."
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page 47
By C. E. brock
ECLIPSED !
Page 48
CANADA IN KHAKI
"GONE WEST"
By F. A. McKENZIE
IN a corner of my desk there is a little bundle
of letters, ever growing bigger, from
parents and wives overseas asking me if I can
obtain news of their missing sons and hus-
bands at the front. They are letters written
in agony of soul. All one has been able to
do in most cases has been to shatter the last
vestige of hope that remained. I avoid, when
I can, opening the drawer that contains them.
The heaviest blow of this war has fallen,
not on the soldier who is killed, but on the
parents, wives and children left behind. You
have met the old father whose only son dis-
appeared, and who is eating his heart out
with anxiety because all that he can learn is
that his boy is missing. "If I could only get
some definite news," he cries. Alas ! in most
cases he never will. We all know the mother
whose life has come to a sudden stop because
her only boy has gone. What can we say to
people such as these? To talk of courage,
submission and patience to them sounds the
merest mockery, at least, until the first pas-
sion, of grief has exhausted itself.
The waste of it ! we cry. These men who
have gone were the very pick of our nation,
trained leaders of the rising generation. War
gave the final touch to their great qualities.
It taught them endurance, it tested their un-
selfishness, it developed their manhood to the
full. These were the men fitted, if ever men
were fitted, to create a new and greater
Empire. The waste of it I
And yet is it wholly waste ? Have all their
great qualities really gone for nothing?
A father known to me, himself a world-
famous man, lost his favourite son on the
Western Front. The boy died splendidly
when going to the rescue of others. He had
cut short a brilliant college career to take up
a commission. His friends had already, in
the days before the war, detected the touch of
genius in him, and not without cause.
A woman friend approached the father.
"What a waste I " she said pitifully, "that all
his genius should have been thrown away."
The father turned on her fiercely. "Waste ! "
he said, with great emphasis. "What do you
mean by waste? If I believed that my son's
life and sacrifice had been lost for nothing,
I would go mad. Thank God I know better
than that I Do you think that all his bigness
and all his goodness came to an end when a
sniper's bullet struck him ? No I No ! I
No ! ! I These things can't die ! "
There are times when death seems glorious
even to the man who wants least to die. I
remember on one occasion being asked to go
on patrol in a warship m a mine and sub-
marine haunted area. "It's not likely they'll
get us," said one Naval officer before we
started. "But if they do, can there be a more
glorious death ? "
He spoke simply, naturally, and as a matter
of course. That is the spirit of the Navy.
That is the spirit of the Army.
No soldier wants death. No soldier wants
wounds. It is the hope and prayer of every
man that he may come back, and come back
whole to home and kin. But if this is not to
be, "Can there be a more glorious death?"
A young soldier came one night to my
rooms in London in great bitterness of spirit,
and as we sat together over the fire he told
me of his troubles. "They are threatening to
send me home," he said. "I'm a crock. A
medical board has reported that I am not fit
to go to the Front. Fancy having come this
far, and then being obliged to go back home
overseas a failure, to have one's friends think
of one as a man not fit to fight."
And then his voice rose a bit. "I shan't
do it 1 " he cried. "I will get across the
Channel somehow 1 There is a big fight
coming on. I'll sneak out and join my bat-
talion and go over the top with them. Maybe
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page i»
I'll get killed. That would be a fine finish !
But to go back home a failure — I can't do it.
Wouldn't it be lucky," he talked on, "if I
got knocked out leading my platoon ? I don't
know much about religion, but I'm sure that
no man could go into the other world better
than when he is strung up to the best that is
in him, as you must be when you are going
forward under fire."
All along the line of the Western Front
one sees graves, sometimes solitary graves,
sometimes little groups, sometimes vast ceme-
teries with neat lines of wooden crosses —
crosses, incidentally, largely made by Ger-
man prisoners in England. British graves,
French graves, German graves, lie close to-
gether. Most of the crosses have names,
sometimes many names on them. Others
have the simple inscription, "Sacred to the
memory of an unknown British soldier," or
"Here rests unknown French comrades."
Then we come to the German graves.
"Hier ruht in Gott " ("Here rests in God").
We leave the inscriptions, the faded flowers,
the laudations of our enemies untouched.
May they do the same over the graves of our
boys !
Yet for every grave that is marked, a score
and more have no sign. In one valley known
to me, close on 200,000 French and Germans
are said to lie dead beneath the soil in lines
and swathes and packed trenches. There are
few crosses there as yet.
Some day, when fighting is over, we will
go back and erect, outside Ypres, on the great
ridges of Messines and Vimy, on the undu-
lating lands of the Somme, and in the mud
bogs of Belgium, splendid memorials to our
lads to mark our remembrance. But their
memories need no such token to keep them
green. Dead, their work lives. The very
sacrifice of their lives is bringing a new era
of liberty and justice to the whole world. We
mourn for them, but even in mourning let us
remember to rejoice and be proud. For if
the grief is ours, the glory of great accom-
plishments is theirs. Youth cut off in its
prime has accomplished more than most lives
that have stretched out to three score and ten
years of self-centred existence.
f^-ir^-
^a*t52rt=ri?i
JUST A REMINDER
By Tom ColirtU
Page 90
CANADA IN KHAKI
By W. F. Thomas
Jack (acting as amanuensis) : " What shall I say, Tom ? "
Tom : " Durned if I know. Let's see — er — ' My dear wife — er — I'm all right — ei — an' you're all
right — er — so that's all right, as it leaves me at present. . . . Your loving husband.'"
CHEERO !
By PRIVATE F. W. DAGLISH.
When it's raining cats and dogs and you're
feeling kind of glum,
And your dug-out's full of water and your
billet's on the bum;
With mud up to your eyebrows, you go
marching through the street.
And then you drag and push along two
weary things called feet,
With iron rations at the end, your hungry
face to greet ;
Tighten up your belt, my lad, you're not a
"fed-up " hero.
Put on that British bull-dog smile
And Cheero ! Clieero ! Cheero !
When you're going "O'er the top" and your
stomach's kind of queer.
And you try to put on "Brave face" to
conquer so-called fear,
But somehow lumps keep rising and
a-sticking in your throat.
And your pal politely tells you this time
they've got your goat.
And you wish you were a sailor, with just a
chance to float.
Buck up, my lad, don't worry, your heart is
not at zero.
Pull off that British bull-dog stunt
And Cheero ! Cheero ! Cheero !
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page 61
When your "Kurnel" is a rotter and very
hard to please,
Who makes you always work like hell and
never stand at ease,
Inspecting rifles every day, brass buttons all
galore ;
When going the rounds finds trouble and
always looks for more.
And makes your comrades quarrelsome and
N.C.O.'s quite sore;
Come, brace yourself together and never have
a fearo.
PuirofT that good "old soldier" stunt
And Cheero I Cheero 1 Cheero 1
When you're travelling to Blighty in a
dreamy kind of way,
Just peppered full of shrapnel and not feeling
very gay;
The bed it seems as hard as wood, your
muscles kind o' weak,
Your life jusi hanginc by a thread! 'Sh !
Such a narrow .s(jueak.
Say 1 There's lots of life left in you yet, fo'
Blighty is a dearo.
There's music-halls and theatres, winr
women, glorious beero,
You'll "swing the lead " in Leicester Square.
Eh ! Cheero I Cheero I Cheero I
THE STAFF CLERK
By SERGEANT W. T. KNIGHT.
It's the soldier's right to grumble,
When in billet or in line.
When the* raid becomes a fumble.
Or when things are going fine.
But you've heard so many stories
Of their life where dangers lurk.
So for once we'll hear the wailings
Of a poor Staff Clerk.
We have heard about the sniper,
Calling down the heavies' wrath.
Of the bomber and the piper.
Making fun of Heinle's Staff;
Yet these heroes all do tremble
When Lieutenants act the "Turk,"
But it's cursings c{ a General
On a poor Staff Clerk.
Though the C.T. may be narrow,
And each shell-hole filled with rain.
Yet the narrowness of Redcaps
Sends a Staff Clerk quite insane.
For it's "Type this," "Check my figures,"
"What's the strength of men at kirk?"
"Order bombs," "Phone Signals," "Dam'it,
You're a poor Staff Clerk."
In the Field.
While they never take Stafif courses.
They must know the Martial Law,
Quote K.R. and O. on horses,
And ten thousand items more.
G.R.O.'s and ancient history
They can tell you with a jerk.
For the modus operandi
Ask a poor Staff Clerk.
When the guns have ceased to thunder
And the front line is no more;
When the Kaiser sees his blunder
And they stop this bloody war;
What a life will be the private's —
Lots of fun and little work ;
But they'll still be wanting statements
From the poor Staff Clerk,
When we've gained the last objective
Of this life and get above.
Where the soldiers stop their scrapping.
And do nought but sing of love,
Then their faithfulness to duty.
And the jobs they did not «:hirk.
Will be entered in the Good Rook-
By the poor Staff Clerk.
W. T. Knkjht.
Fage B2
CANADA IN KHAKI
By H. ]. Mowat, O.M.F.C.
He held her hand with the grip of one who never meant to let it go again "
THE LUSITANIA BEGAN IT
A Short Story by MAX PEMBERTON
Illustrated bp H, J. MoWat
CHAPTER I
I SHALL call the man Anthony just be-
cause that was not his name. And I shall
speak of the City just because that was the
place in which he did not live. Yet for all
that this is a true narration, and there are
some who will be able to lift the veil and to
cry "That is he 1"
Now, Anthony is a very good name, and
here was an Anthony who was heard of in
a little matter connected with a bush. But
this was not the kind of Anthony of whom
I am writing. He, quoting the dramatist,
would have told you that he could resist
everything but temptation. In the American
City he was the "horrid example" at whom
parsons pointed the finger, while prigs
thanked God they were not Anthony. A hard
hitter with a fine punch in the right. But
somehow or other the poor devil was always
turning to the left.
Anthony would have liked to marry Nance
Oldfield, but Papa of that ilk was not taking
any. He had a ridiculous aversion to keep-
ing a son-in-law whose future was behind
him. A man of affairs, he spoke of dividends
and investments and the sweat of the brow
and other trifles. Also he objected to four
aces when four kings looked so much better.
C AX AD A I\ KTIAKl
Page 53
By n. J. Moxi-at, O.U.F.C.
"They were toasting the sinking of the 'Lusitania.' Good God! and he^ must listen to it!
If ever a man saw red, it was Anthony Viner that night"
' ' The ' LusiTAXU ' Began It ' '
Page 54
CANADA IN KHAKI
BACK TO THE DAYS OF ARMOUR: GERMAN SNIPER'S HELMET
Vizor down: the protection given to the
head is complete
Vizor up: worn thus the helmet has a
Cromwellian appearance
This helmet shows the care of the Germans for their snipers. The cut-out on the right
allows the rifle to be held in proper position
Cahadian Official Photographs
CANADA IN KHAKI
PageM
In vain did Nance point out that there was
not a better horseman nor a finer shot for ten
miles round than the particular person in
question. Papa Oldfield did not like pistols,
and horses were prehistoric. He shut the
door in Anthony's face, and said, "There,
my darling," when Nance shed a tear. But
.Anthony was not there. Most probably he
had gone off to a billiard saloon.
One night Anthony had a rare old row in
that paternal mansion and for ever shook off
the dust from his heels upon a mat which
welcomfed him with a salve. Nance was
out at a party and that riled him to begin
with. Then Papa Oldfield had talked about
the Lusitania and had stammered e?ccuses for
the Hun. Anthony could not stand that at
any price. He told the Old Man off, threw
in what he knew about Whited Sepulchres,
and handed out certain gems of speech which
caused prayers to be offered for him next
Sunday. Then he clapped his "broad-
brimmed sombrero" upon his agitated fore-
head and, as the novelists say, he set out into
the night — ^a soft and balmy night and re-
dolent of stars. Would you believe that sucV"
a man was something of a poet ? 'Tis true
nevertheless. Despite that wonderful "right"
and the bad habit of saying "hell" upon
unnecessary occasions, Anthony had read
Shelley and Keats and would have quoted
you more than one line of Omar Khayyam
incorrectly. The few who knew him would
swear he was as tender-hearted as a spring
chicken. He was even a dreamer sometimes
and would walk alone upon the prairie.
Anthony left Papa Oldfield's house that
night in a state of indignation which might
fairly be called righteous. His girl had gone
to a party, perhaps with that dirty rotter
Oscar Helferich ; the Old Man had dared him
to cross his threshold for ever and ever, amen,
and his best pal Willy Playton had gone
down in the Lusitania. Enough to make a
man drink anything that was handy, especially
when the other man paid for it. Fortunately
Anthony was in no mood for the bars, and
he turned instead to the meadows — those wide
meadows of the lakeside where the poets
should have dreamed and the marigold tmdc
merry.
The City now lay behind him and the wide
world of waters was his horizon. He had
passed from mean streets to a park and from
a park to a river drive. All kinds of wild
ideas were in his head, but one idea was
paramount — he would see 'Nance Oldlield no
more, and his best friend was dead. Tragic
indeed that this war so far away should have
killed the one man who understood him. He
had never thought much about it hitherto, but
the sinking of the Lusitania had come like a
vision in the dark. What human devils were
these who sent women and children to their
death in the great Atlantic Ocean which man
had conquered so proudly ? And what Cause
could be right which needed such weapons?
Oh, he could depict it all— the great steamer
and the still sea and the periscopes above the
swell ; the roar of the explosion ; the cries of
the doomed ; the heeling and sinking of the
giant ship; women's hair spread upon the
waves and their eyes looking upward to
the heavens. An awful scene — it gripped him
like a nightmare.
Remember, he walked by the lakeside and
his hallucination will not surprise you. It
was a dark night with a wonderful heaven of
stars above. He stood alone gazing over the
waters, and while he stood he saw the
Lusitania sink for the second time. Yes,
there she was, rising like a splendid castle
above the still sea ; her lights all glowing ; her
passengers thinking of home or the old
country. And then he saw her heel suddenly
as clearly as ever he saw anything in his life
— down she went amid terrible sounds which
left nothing but that echo of human sorrow
most weird to hear. Oh, those cries of the
living, how awful they were ! They rang in
his ears like a very dirge of death. He stag-
gered on and still he heard them. If he could
but. save the women and the children. Help-
less, he clenched his hands and cursed the men
who had done this thing. No longer con-
scious of direction, he walked to and fro like
a man distracted. His only <l«sire was to
avenge the dead — to wring the very life out
of the men who had done this thing.
All this time, mark you, the cries con-
tinued. Anthony came to himself presently,
and a measure of sober reason returned to
Paga M
CANADA IN KHAKI
him. It was odd, surely, that he still heard
tM doleful sbunds which had come to him
from a phantom ship. Yet they were real
enough, and when he had convinced himself
of the fact, he stood and asked himself where
he was. By the lakeside certainly, but also
in front of a considerable house. He looked at
it closely and thought that he recognised it.
Was it not the house of Oscar Helferich, that
slobbering German whose name he could
hardly repeat with patience. He was sure of
it, and now he convinced himself that the
cries did not come from any phantom ship at
all but from this very mansion. As true as
the Gospel it was.
He went into the garden and up to one
of the open windows, and looking in he saw
a banquet spread and men and women about
it, and they were lifting their glasses — to
what? To the very tragedy which had
shaken the civilised world to its foundations.
They were toasting the sinking of the
Lusitania — those d — — d Huns. Good God,
and he must listen to it. If fiver a man saw
red in his life it was Anthoi^y Viner that
night.
CHAPTER II
They hurried back to the City together —
Nance Oldfield in the shelter of his bruised
arm and her tears upon his cheek.
"You must go," she would say from time
to time; "if Oscar is dead they will bring it
in murder. Oh, Tony, you know what they
are. For God's sake, do not let them take
you. Go to-night, because I ask it."
He was quite dazed; his clothes were
mangled and torn and there was blood on his
face. His one desire was to know what he
had done in the room, and of that she could
give him no clear account.
"I know that I did their supper in and
threw Oscar over the table," said he ; "the big
fellow caught me one on the top, but he might
have been an accordion when the wind came
out of him. If the dark-faced man says his
jaw is broken, he's a liar, for I heard him
talking afterwards. There's four of 'em on
the police council, and that's as good as hemp
for me if Oscar's really gone for ever. Guess
I'll have to go, Nance — but I'm not sorry,
and so help me God, I'd do it every night if
I met another party like that,"
She did not reprove him, telling him in-
stead how she had come to go to the party,
her father wishing it and she not under-
standing at all what kind of an affair it was.
Her whole anxiety was to get him out of the
City quickly, before the police could act, and
here she proved herself a woman of decision
and device beyond all he had imagined.
Money, clothes — he must have the former, but
the latter did not matter. His qualms were
silenced with an insistence and an authority
which seemed ridiculous coming from so
fragile a person. He would never see her
again, perchance, yet here she was promising
him that she would never forget, and implor-
ing him for God's sake to leave her. And
in the end he went off like a robber that is
hunted, into the woods and the by-ways —
sweafing that Helferich, anyway, should not
have the satisfaction of taking him, and
without a thought of that future he must now
face alone.
He was over the frontier by the following
afternoon and in the good city of Montreal
a few days afterwards. When somebody
suggested to him that he should go and fight
Germans, the words came as a revelation
from on high. Why had he never thought
of it? He could stop the singing of some
of them, surely; and that way lay redemp-
tion. Anthony put on his uniform gladly.
When the good ship sailed for the East at
last, there was no man aboard as musical
as he.
"Going to toast them in Flanders," he
wrote to Nance. It was a true saying.
CHAPTER III
One night, after many days, he stood in an
observation post and looked across the
wilderness bevond.
It was black dark and a cold wind blowing.
From time to time a big gun boomed omin-
ously and there was the occasional rattle of
the trench mortar or the blast of the Minnie
which declared the Hun to be at work.
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page 67
By Arthur MortUmd
" It's all right, Hans, don't get scared. We air't short of glycerine "
Page 58
CANADA IN KHAKI
Anthony, however, was not thinking of
Xo Man's Land at all. His mind was back
to the City and the lake. Again he heard
the Hun singing; once more looked in
tlirough the open window and saw Nance
at the table and the uplifted glasses of
the Germans who toasted the Lusitania's
dead.
What was Nance doing this night, and
why had he not heard from her these many
weeks? Was she still going to parties, and
would they have music there? Anyway, he
thought that she might have found an hour
to write to him, and he remembered in the
same breath all that the poets had said about
women — fickle jades, and God help the man
who trusted them. Yet for all that, he was
not quite sure that he would put Nance Old-
lield in that category, and he began to make
excuses for her, saying that she might have
written after all and her letter be at the bottom
of the sea. That would mean the sinking of
another' big ship, and the champagne corks
popping and more music from the Huns.
Why, they were always opening their dirty
throats, and even as he stood there he could
hear them across the wilderness.
Anthony listened a long time and then he
became quite sure of it. Somewhere in the
void a group of Huns were carolling, just as
they had done on the night the Lusitania
sank; and 'By God," said he, "it's the same
song that I heard by the lakeside."
He ould not stand this at all and the
longer he listened to it, the less had he the
will to suffer it patiently.
When he called his new pal Bill Barnard
to him and told him the story, they agreed it
was damnable, and arranged a surprise party
upon the spot. What was to prevent them
going over together? "Regimental orders,"
you say, and all that sort of thing.
But Anthony did not give thirty cents for
regimental or any other orders to-night. An
idea had come to him and had remained an
obsession.
"Bill," says he, "we ought to be at that
party."
Bill agreed with a grim nod.
"Say, Bill, what do folks take to parties?
Crackers and things, I've heard. Guess
we'll fill our pockets all right. Are you ready
for a sortie among the Alleymans, Bill?
Those that are in favour, hold up their
hands."
Bill did not hold up his hand, but he was
in favour nevertheless.
Presently they were over and out and
crawling like the parson's snake in the grass,
away towards the music which had so
charmed them.
In Bill's report next morning he remarked
that he had "bombed the creator at nine
o'clock" — but this was merely his way of
spelling it, and what he meant to say was
that he had thrown a grenade into the musical'
hole and that, as he remarked tersely,
" groans were heard."
Anthony, however, made no report at all,
and for reasons which were obvious. If he
could have told you anything which was
useful about it, he would have said that he
looked into a deep hole beyond a hummock
and saw a doorway and stanchions of wood
and sandbags, and beyond it the red glow of
a coke fire in a crazy grate.
The light showed him three dead Germans,
and one of them he recognised. He was
Oscar Helferich, the man who had toasted
the sinking of the Lusitania in the house by
the lakeside.
All this he would have told you, we say, if
he could have given any coherent account
of it.
As a matter of fact, the craqkers which
he and Bill tossed down as a lively accom-
paniment to the carolling raised the devil's
own row along that particular front and set
the guns barking with a vengeance. Soon
star lights were glowing in the sky above and
machine-guns rattling on the earth below.
They hooked it with expedition, the pair of
them, as Bill remarked, and it was real bad
luck which put a bullet through Tony's back
at the very moment he was about to say
"Cheer-oh" to his comrades in the trench.
Nevertheless, these are the facts, and down
he went in a heap and soon the stretcher
bearers were trotting him to the base hospital
and apologising for their haste on the score of
danger.
"The worst piece of land in Flanders,"
CANADA IX KHAKI
Page 59
THE KING'S VISIT TO THE CANADIANS AT THE FRONT
His Majesty was deeply interested in the battleground of Vimy Ridge, which he is here seen
crossing. General Currie is immediately following the King
His Majesty is presented with a souvenir of
the battle and is well pleased
His majesty usienb to ii.e tale ot a man who
fought at Vimy Ridge
Canadian Official Photographs
r AX ADA IN KHAKI
Page 60
DOMINION DAY
WAS CELEBRATED BY SERVICES IN THE FIELD
Is It a i3oche> -An aeroplane crea
tes a diversion during the sermon
The Staff faced the Chaplan at the drumhead service
Masses of steel-helmeted men listened with close attention '^/^^^.^--^f "^,'^;.^,^,;„,,„.,,,
C(iiui(h(ni OflicKil I iKiiiiiiiuiJiia
VAX AD A IX KHAKI
Page 61
CORPS COMMANDER WATCHES THE VICTORS OF HILL 70
Lt.-Gen. Sir Arthur Currie, who directed the Canadians' lightning and brilliant attack on the
"Key to Lens," stands in a village street to watch his victorious troops file past
Pipers of a Canadian kilted regiment with their veteran goat led the proud march back to a well-
earned rest in billets after some of the stillest fighting they had known
Canttdiaii Official Photographs
I>(Hie 62
CANADA IN KHAKI
LATEST MODES IN GERMAN GAS MASKS
These gas masks, taken from the Germans by Canadians, show that, owing to shortage of
rubber, the flexible parts are now made of leather
m
1 hese gas masks, also captured trom tne eiernian^. > . t; no lOLCCtion tor tne eyes. 1 hey are
used by runners in the trenches where progress would be impeded by goggles
Canadian Official Photographs
CAXADA IN KHAKI
Page 63
they said. Tony accepted the excuse, but
did not care a dump either way.
Despite the pain of it, he was still thinking
of that amazing apparition in the dug-out —
Oscar Helferich lying dead there. Miracles,
then, were happening, in this ancient uni-
verse after all.
CHAPTER IV
In the hospital Tony dreamed many dreams,
but they were not wholly unpleasant. His
wound was awkward but not dangerous, the
doctor said, and he spent his time in reading
stories about impossible people and wonder-
ing when the beautiful hospital train would
take him back to Blighty. What he was go-
ing to do afterwards he knew no more than
the dead.
Nance had not written to him, and
since she had not written, he determined that
he would not return to Canada even should
they invalid him out. Perhaps be thought
he ought to have got the Military Medal or
something for heaving crackers into Oscar
Helferich's pleasant little party; but his
officers merely seemed to think that he had
been a fool, while his friend Bill had been
severely told off by the Colonel. So it seemed
that things were all wrong for him now, and
he really began to wonder if it would not
be better to set off for the East and teach card
efames to the heathen Chinee. ^
In this mood he fell asleep one night and
actually dreamed that Nance had married
Helferich. He saw the whole thing as clearly
as possible — the big church in the City he
knew so well ; smart autos dashing up to the
door; bridesmaids in flummery, and a wed-
ding-cake as big as a barrel. When they got
back to the house again they opened the
champagne bottles and drank once more that
cursed toast which had sent him across to
Europe in search of the Hun. How plainly
he heard it and how clearly he saw Nance
herself — yet not dressed as a bride, but, oddly
enough, in the uniform of the Canadian Red
Cross — that uniform he had seen so often
and admired so much since he had come to
France.
This he could not understand, and he felt
inclined to remonstrate with her about it.
Even to marry Helferich she ought to have
worn something more suitable, and he told
her so emphatically, rising at the breakfast
table to make a speech, to which nobody
apparently desired to listen, Helferich least
of all. When they pulled him down, a strong
hand upon his shoulder, he resisted actively
and there was very nearly another scene such
as there had been in the old house by the
lakeside. Fortunately, however, this did not
come to be, and with a last violent protest
expressed in no measured terms, Master Tony
opened his eyes and saw Nance at his bed-
side.
"Hallo," says he, "I thought you were
married."
She smiled, but begged him to be quiet.
"You have had a horrid dream," she said;
"I had to wake you up."
He told her that he liked being waked in
that way and held her hand with the grip of
one who never meant to let it go again. _
"Say, Nance," said he, "I dreamed" that
you had married Helferich — but that could
not be, could it? We killed him in the
trench over yonder; I saw him dead myself."
She shook her head.
"He was in America three weeks ago,"
she said. " I have had a letter to say so. But
I know that his son is fighting here."
Tony opened his eyes very wide at that.
"His son, good God! He had a son
fighting?"
She repeated the words. Helferich had
told her so himself.
Tony turned half over and sighed.
"It's a rum world," he said, "but justice
is still knocking about sonaewhere. Don't let
go my hand, Nance, I guess I want to
think.'' '
Page 64
CANADA IN KHAKI
By MacMichati
Officer: "Surely you are the man I pulled up this morning for being improperly dressed — and
now you fail to salute."
Recruit : *' Yes, sir — ^but I thought you might still be cross with me."
A CINEMA AT THE FRONT
By MAJOR CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS
TH E long, deep-shadowed hall was packed
with dim forms, their glimmering faces
all upturned toward the pictures on the
lighted screen. It was an intent audience,
silent except for snatches of muttered com-
ment, an occasional shuffle of heavy boots, and
the creaking of equipment. Here and there,
spotting he gloom vividly for a moment, a
resolute face would be lit up in the fleeting
flare of a match. The air was thick with the
smell of cigarette smoke and wet leather.
The I cinema-hall was in a side street of
shell-shattered Albert. Outside, under the
glassy, blue-white flooding of the November
moon, the great falling statue of the Virgin
and Child, arrested midway in its dizzy
plunge from the top of the Cathedral tower,
looked down upon the jumble of broken roofs
and windowless walls, and on the ceaseless
procession of ambulances, lorries, limbers,
and tramping battalions which thronged the
Bapaume road.
.i\-ii;A IN KHAKI
Page 86
'ht- lower sky all round to east and
lonli was continually stabbed with jets of
flarne, so savagely intense that even the un-
rlouded moonlight could not drown them.
The windless air quivered and shrank under
rhe shocks of our nearer guns — the 6-inch,
;he 9.2's and the ii-inch high-nosing
riants. It wailed or whined or whimpered to
the soaring passage of the
shells, as they streamed
outwards toward the Ger-
man lines. Every now
and then the fierce wailing
in the sky, instead of dying
off into the distance, drew
nearer, rose into a venom-
ous scream, and ended
with a nerve-shattering
crash which jarred Albert
to her deep cellars ; for the
ruined town, being
crowded with troops, was
the object of ceaseless at-
tention from the German
batteries along the yet un-
conquered heights of the
Ancre. In the pauses of
the bombardment would
be heard, now and again,
the waspish drone of an
aeroplane questing and
quartering the sky far
overhead.
But to all these outer
sounds and befallings the
packed spectators in the
cinema - hall gave not a
thought. They were en-
grossed in the moving pic-
tures which passed before
them on the screen. And
what were the pictures that
could so rivet their atten-
tion while swift death
roared and screamed all
about them? They were
scenes of an earlier por-
tion of the tremendous
conflict going on even
now just beyond their
walls. For the film was the
great battle-film of the fighting on the
Somme.
It was all theirs. The naked rises* swept
with shell-bursts, the fire-scourged roads lead-
ing straight into the hell of the locked
struggle, the cratered and tortured rolling
fields, the ghastly pale patches of wreckage
which had been La Boiselle, Ovillers, Con-
THE SOLDIER'S BULLY-BEEF
The Apparition : " 'Alas, my poor brother,' indeed
By G. E. Studdy
NIGHTMARE
I'll learn 'em I "
Page 66
CANADA IN KHAKI
talmaison, the half-obliterated white lines of
trenches for the capture of which the best
blood of the Empire had been so lavishly and
so splendidly outpoured — ^all this they knew
to every hallowed acre of it. They had
marched over it, endured over it, many of
them fought over it.
But now, here in the shadowed hall, they
were getting really acquainted with the mag-
nificence of their own achievement. They
were learning to apprehend the Battle of the
Somme. As he who is in the forest cannot
see the forest for the trees, he who is in the
thickest of the fight sees least of it as a whole.
His senses are absorbed in the immediate de-
tails which mean life or death to him, and
what his fellows in the next ditch are doing
he must take on faith. Here, however, before
the flickering film, he feels himself on a watch-
tower high above the gasping fury of the
battle. He sees now what he looked like— and
perhaps he remembers what he felt like — as
he plunged forward with the attacking wave,
and followed the barrage, and broke with red-
dening bayonet into the German trenches.-
As the film rolls on it grows more and more
realistic; for as the pic-
tured shell-bursts crowd
upon the screen, the spec-
tators not only see them
but hear them. The walls
of the hall are shaking
under what seem to be
those pictured explosions.
And at any moment one
of those great shells, in-
stead of bursting on the
crest of yonder ridge, may
swoop down through the
roof above their heads,
and blow the whole audi-
ence into eternity. It is
not strange, therefore, if
the breathing of the audi-
ence grows deeper as the
show goes on, and for
some the line between pic-
ture and reality becomes
confused; for never before
was pictured story
brought to such close
grips with life and death
as in this turn in the
cinema hall at ruined
Albert on the Somme.
By Geo. S. Dixon
Recruit 'on sentry duty for the first time): "Who goes there?"
Voce: "OfiBcer of the day."
Recruit : "Then what are ye doing out at night?"
KNIGHTHOOD
By CANON SCOTT
In honour, chivalrous;
In duty, valorous;
In all things, noble ;
To the heart's core, clean.
CANADA /.V KHAKI
Page 67
ZOO— LOGIC
By Pay
Rocky Mountain Explorer: "Great Caesar! I had no idea there were such creatures
in Canada ! "
The Creature: "Well, I didn't draw this picture. You must blame it on Poy!"
4— n
Fage 68
CANADA IN KHAKI
OR DESTINY ?
By A. B. TUCKER
Author of "The Battle Glory of Canada'
THE men at the front are becoming
fatalists. They see a shell burst and kill
perhaps two out of a little group of half a
dozen and leave the other four unhurt — the
wo hit not being close together, but one on
he near side of the group and the other on
the far.
Frequent experiences of such wonderful
escapes on the one side and such unaccount-
able bad luck on the other have made them
believe in destiny. They argue, "If that shell
that is coming towards us is meant for
me, it will have me anyway, and if it is
not for me, I shan't get hit; so it's no good
worrying."
Having arrived at this conclusion, they
ceaje to take much notice of bullets flying
near them. To their own satisfaction they
have solved the problem whether it is chance
or luck, or what is variously called destiny,
the finger of Providence, or Fate that decides
what is to be their own particular lot in an
engagement. They do not express their feel-
ings quite in Swinburnian language, but
when that master of musical diction wrote
those beautiful lines :
" Unto each man his fate.
Unto each as He saith,
In Whose fingers the weight
Of the world is a breath,"
he summed up the soldiers' attitude to-day.
In ordinary life, we are less prone to believe
that our fate is mapped out for us, and are
more inclined to talk of good or bad luck.
But even with us at home there are times when
the chain of events in our lives makes us think
whether it is all just chance that brought them
about.
There is immense satisfaction when we
feel that justice has at length been done,
or a wrong righted after many years; and it
is curious how strong and how common the
belief is that injustice, or wrong done, will
inevitably be righted some day.
The following story, which seems to suggest
this much-discussed problem, is absolutely
true in all essentials, though if it formed part
of a novelist's plot, it would be criticised as
being so highly improbable as to demand too
much credulity from the reader. The names
in the narrative are for obvious reasons
fictitious.
Some twenty-four years ago, Tom Richard-
son, a young fellow not much more than a
lad, left a little village in the South of
England for Canada. He left his home not
because he wished to seek adventures or a
fortune in the New World, but because he
was sore and bitter with life as he found it in
his native village. ,
The 'trouble was a girl. One of the
prettiest girls in the village was Mary Wells,
and though there were several young men
anxious to pay attentions to her, she would
have nothing to do with any of them, for her
heart was given to Tom Richardson. He was
devoted to her, and they looked forward to
being married when he was in a position to
provide a home for her.
But — it is the "buts" in life that change our
whole outlook and make our futures very
different from what we anticipated — in this
case the course of true love, which is said
never to run smoothly, quickly ran among the
rocks.
Mary's parents were ambitious for their
handsome daughter, and Tom's prospects
were not such as to make him in their eyes an
acceptable suitor. Mary was forbidden to
have any more to do with him ; and being
very young, fond of her parents, and accus-
tomed to obey them in everything, she gave
way and said good-bye to Tom. He, deeming
her compliance with her parents' wishes to
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page 69
mean that her love for him
was not worthy of his
whole-hearted love for her,
left the village, angry and
bitter with the world gen-
erally and with a mean
opinion of women's con-
stancy.
Nothing was heard of him
again in the village. He
dropped out of people's
ken and was soon forgot-
ten. In the meantime he
had taken kindly to life in
his adopted country, and,
being steady and industri-
ous, he became fairly pros-
p e r o u s. But he never
married. No other woman
but Mary Wells had any
attraction for him, and he
was regarded as a con-
firmed bachelor.
^hen war broke out,
Tom Richardson, like most
of the old countrymen in
Canada, enlisted, though,
according to regulations in
his country, he was over
military age. He came to
this country in due course,
and then went with his unit
to the front. While serv-
ing there he, one day,
found himself in the com-
pany of a man who had
come from his own native village. Of
course, he asked after old friends, and by
and by spoke of Mary Wells. His new
companion, who seemed astonished that any-
one who had belonged to the village had not
heard of her, then told him the following
story :
Mary, many years ago, had married a man
of the parents' choice, solely to please them,
for she had no love for him. Her married life
was most unhappy, and when a child was born
of the marriage, her unhappiness became
melancholic, and in an insane moment she
killed the baby. Tried for murder and found
to be insane, she was committed to » criminal
By Thoma% Henry
Short-sighted Old Dame: "Aye, it do seem wunnerful, Garge, a.<
these men can fly over us for all the world like birds."
lunatic asylum, where she had been ever
since.
Tom Richardson, when he heard of the
terrible fate of the girl he had loved, and still
loved, at once determined that when he got
leave, he would go to the asylum and ask to
be allowed to see her. He had already learnt
from his new-found friend that Mary's hus-
band had died some years ago, and that her
parents were dead.
He got leave a month or so after hearing all
this sad story, and made his way at once to the
asylum, where he was told that for some time
Mary had been regarded as perfectly sane,
and that recently she was to have been re-
Page 70
CANADA IN KHAKI
leased, but that she begged to be allowed to
stay in the asylum, as she had no home to
which to go. Like the caged bird, she had
grown so accustomed to captivity that she
had no desire for liberty. Richardson ex-
plained his relations with Mary, and asked if
he might see her. The doctor said that he did
not think any harm would come of the meet-
ing. "You shall see her quite alone," he said ;
"I do not think that she will have any relapse
through seeing you."
Mary had already been told rtiat there was
"someone" to see her, and had been con-
ducted to a waiting-room, wondering who
that someone could be. The door opened and
in walked Tom. Without a moment's hesita-
tion she flew into his arms. It might have
been only yesterday that these two parted.
For an hour they talked, and then Tom was
told that it was time to go. Before he left he
promised Mary that he would come back when
he next got leave. After parting with her he
saw the doctor again and told him that he
wanted to marry Mary if she might be re-
leased. It was then agreed that arrangements
should be made for her release when he next
came back from the front.
So Tom went back to the front happier than
he had been for years. Let us hope that he
will get his leave soon and that he will be
spared to return to his old sweetheart. Surely,
after such a happy reunion after so many years
of grief, nothing will happen to spoil the end
of the story. The prospect of happiness
held out to the poor woman who has been
dead to the world for years seems like poetic
justice.
We may each have our own opinion as
to what it was that brought these two old
lovers together again, but in Mary's mind
there is no doubt whether it was chance oi
destiny.
S. R. D.
(The mystic tetters sometimes seen on jars containing ram for soldiers.)
There is a jar we love to see,
Which bears the letters S.R.D.;
Of all the rations in the cart,
It's dearest to the soldier's heart.
When e'er you're dreaming in a trench,
And rains your weary limbs do drench.
With what wild glee you hail the jar
Which holds that nectar from afar.
Let the old whizz-bangs shriek and roar.
And Heine's H.E. o'er us pour.
We reck them not, when we can see
Those mystic letters, S.R.D.
Old Omar in his palmy days
Sang of his jug in Persian lays.
And he'd sing more if he could see
The jar that's labell'd S.R.D.
So when you sit in chairs of ease,
And drink your waters and your teas,
Don't you worry, or yet get glum
Because the "soldat " likes his rum.
He doesn't get a healthy swig,
For, be assured, his share's not big;
But even so that little tot
To us poor chaps means quite a lot.
The prim old maids may agitate.
And 'gainst rum sing a hymn of hate ;
Let them rave on — for what care we ?
We watch and wait for S.R.D.
1. Gordon Smith, O.M.F.C.
CAXADA IN KHAKI
Page 71
OF HoeS5.S .
TMS.
Ws/abili-tv to
— WHLL, — ^?s/^rl.L■y,•
^ COK1K)l£5IOM AT-'
As Ha COULT* HIT /^ "TIN CAH-Th^WN UP IN
im AIR . Six -riM=S o«y^oF>)x , B=J=oR3.
•T FSLI- To TH=. <;f30UMD ,
FICUR5.D 'T^^^
>Ni-r>tiN Two
OF
fiirr
7WS- JOB
WHF.N STEVE'S PARU JOINED UP
By Tom C.nlrell
Page 72
CANADA IN KHAKI
THE UNPOLISHED BUTTON
By MacMiehatl
ODES TO ARMY FORMS
TO MY INVENTORY OF KIT (A.F.B.253)
Oh, let me have a glimpse at you, my
Invent'ry of Kit,
My list of necessaries for a guy that's done
his bit.
I haven't got no Bible left, I haven't got no
blacking,
I haven't got no braces; my brushes, tooth,
is lacking;
I haven't got no blinkin' tin of min'ral jelly
mixture,
One only of my titles with its plate and pin's
a fixture ;
My housewife, who has stuck to me the whole
of this campaign,
Is positively empty and wants filling up
again ;
And here it's down in black and white on
Form B two five three,
I've almost got a whole trousseau a-comin'
clear to me !
Here, just a whisper in your ear, my Invent'ry
of Kit;
I'm a very modest feller, but I've got to
mention it :
My flannel shirt is on the rocks, and I ain't
got a cotton ; •
As for my socks — well, I'm the gink that
Sister Sue's forgotten;
And I'm entitled to some trousers — serge —
one pair, of Khaki,
And here am I paradin' like a Caribbean
darkie.
And on my Sam, I tell you straight, altho'
I guess it's rude.
If the Guv'ment don't help soon, I'll be posin'
in thp nude;
Yes — moi qui parle — a hero of a half a dozen
fights.
With an option on a wh61e layette if I could
get my rights !
CANADA IN KHAKI
I
Now get a wriggle on you, plsiise, my
Invent'ry of Kit,
I can't believe you have at heart my real
benefit ;
As long as I've. my bayonet, my pull-through,
and my rifle,
Tho' I possess no puttees, it don't worry you
a trifle;
As long as my equipment's fixed with carriers
or pouches,
You do not give a tuppenny for my sartorial
grouches ;
As long as of accoutrements and arms I have
my whack,
You don't care if I have no vest, grey flannel,
to my back ; '
I ought to be arrayed in all my pomp and
panoplee.
Now the blinkin' lilies of the field have sure
got one on me 1
Page 73
Driftin' away from common talk, my
Invent'ry of Kit,
I've got a heart that's been condemned, a
soul that doesn't fit;
I've got a line on higher things that's lost its
true perspective,
I've got a sense of humour that is cruelly
non-effective ;
I've got a brain that will not wbrk, a mind
that- never grapples
With facts (as once it used to do) for nuts or
sour apples;
All of those heav'nly gifts were once my
private propertee.
And now I have part-worn them in this
blinkin' Infantree —
Before I lose my self-respect, oh, do be
sportsmanlike,
Cover my awful nakedness — please — for the
love of Mike 1 R. M. E.
TO A CLEAN CONDUCT SHEET (A.F.B.122)
Oh, testimony to three blameless years 1
Unsullied witness of avoided clink.
And abstinence from those belated beers,
That blacken to incriminating ink
And mark the downward courses of careers I
Proof negative that naught to me befel
In rumpuses and wrongdoings and crime ;
How thy blank lines of spurned temptation
tell.
Thy virgin columns of the place and time
Where nothing happened when it might have
well.
If I committed fault the spot's not mapped.
Nor is the date I did it calendared ;
No witnesses were present an it happed,
No punishment awarded an I erred.
The incident with no "remarks" is capped.
Oh, resum^ of righteousness unwrit.
Oh, happy tale of heeded p's and q's;
Gaze on those unfilled spaces and admit
The speechless proof how nobly did I choose
Strictly and soberly to do my bit.
Oh, count me not a hypocrite and smug
Because I have tiptoed the paths of sin.
Nor turned when tempters gave my sleeve a
tug;
Often less brave a "mention" 'tis to win
Than pass the bottle and escape the jug.
Record of rectitude ! Her marriage lines
Were not more treasured by the cast-off
bride,
Nor by the saint the halo that defines
The spice of sanctity in which he died,
Than thee on whom my untold virtue shines.
The characters that plain good cooks present,
The reference the sober butler brings
In answer to the Times advertisement;
How much more true of honest virtue rings
My conduct sheet of stain all innocent.
When it's in Orders, and my turn I wait
To be paraded 'fore the O. i/c,
And halt at ease outside the seventh gate,
"If you've done little right," they'll say
to me,
"Pass — you've done nothing wrong at any
rate." R. M. E.
Page 74
CANADA IN KHAKI
HOW KLONDYKE BILL JOINED UP
(According to the artists, and according to fact)
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page 75
' How'd that happen, chum — shrapnel ? '
By A. E. Horn*
CHRISTMAS DAY ON VIMY
RIDGE
By F. A. McKENZIE.
The Famous Canadian War Correspondent
ON Christmas Day, 1914, the British and
Germans, after months of fierce fight-
ing, fraternised freely. The spirit of Christ-
mas was 100 strong for the spirit of war.
Both sides met together between the lines.
They exchanged drinks, joined in mutual
choruses, shook each other by the hand and
offered each other smokes. It was one of
the most ironic and one of the most human
touches of this great war.
On Christmas Day, J915, there was very
little commingling. Bitter memories acted
as a barrier, memories of murdered wounded,
memories of tortured prisoners, memories of
poison gas. Strict orders had been issued
from Headquarters that there was to be no
rapprochement. According to the accoun"=
published immediately afterwards this order
was strictly obeyed. But as a matter of fact,
here and there men did exchange greetings
in half-hearted manner. They sat openly
on the trenches, chaffing one another. A
waiter from Montreal serving in a German
regiment shouted inquiries after some old
friends. Grim jokes were hurled from side
to side until the Company officers, uneasy
lest treachery might be intended, ordered the
men down again.
.On Christmas Day, 1916, Canadians and
Germans remained strictly apart. The time
for even half-hearted Christmas greeting had
gone by. Along most of our line the order
was issued that if the Germans did nothing,
we would do nothing; if the German guns
Page 76
CANADA IN KHAKI
did not fire, we would not fire either. Even
this regulation, however, was not universal,
for, at one point of the line an enterprising
Nova Scotian battalion had a raid in the
early morning, and brought back a little
bunch of German prisoners. "We knew they
wouldn't expect us, so we paid them a sur-
prise visit," my old friend the Major in
charge told me. And a very successful sur-
prise visit, too. At another point the Germans
occupied themselves in the afternoon by
throwing "rum jars" on our front trenches.
But, generally speaking, actual fighting
ceased from daylight to dusk on the anni-
versary of the birth of the Prince of Peace.
The weather had been abominable, rain,
sleet and snow. The countryside, far behind
the lines, was a picture of dreary desolation.
Parsing through the quiet French villages to
the rear, I came at noon to a village where
two battalions were resting, straight from the
trenches. They had had a hard time, and
only two days before they had marched back
to the village almost worn out. But two days
do a lot. They had washed the mud off their
faces and scraped some of it off their clothes.
They had had a good long sleep, and they
were ready for all the fun of the day.
Christmas began with church services.
Our Anglican padre held an early communion
service in the foremost dug-out. Church
service over, every man's mind turned to
Christmas dinner. The officers had sent out
scouts for days before to buy up turkeys and
all the good things available. Many of the
Christmas parcels from home had not arrived.
The Santa Claus ship had gone aground
right in the entrance of Boulogne Harbour,
blocking the passage way. Most of the
Christmas letters and messages from home
were not yet to hand.
The French village in which we were stay-
ing was typical of its kind. It consisted
mainly of several large farms, each con-
structed on the good old plan of the midden
and the dung heap in the courtyard ; of ponds
that were virtually cesspools just by, and
of the farmhouse and farm buildings built
around. These barns had been taken over
by the Army. Their long attics were turned
into dormitories. They were very dark, for
there were no windows and the only illu-
mination came from faint candles. They
were very draughty, for the tiles were loosely
laid, with no under covering, so that the
wind and the rain beat and poured through.
On either side of the roof were the roughly
made bunks. In the centre was a long table.
Outside, in the passage way, the cooks stood
with their great tins and monster baking
dishes full of cut up turkey and bacon,
dishes of boiled corn, potatoes and green-
stuffs, apple sauce and gravy.
The men filed along, holding their tin
canteens in their hands. As they passed, the
canteens were heaped up with turkey, vege-
tables and savouries, all in one great pile.
One wise man had obtained a wash-hand
basin. He was greeted with a roar of
laughter, but it enabled his food to be well
spread out. It is impossible on active service
to carry plates. An attempt had been made to
secure paper plates for that day, but it failed.
However, no one was in a mood to grumble.
After a man has had a spell in the trenches,
a dinner of turkey and sweet corn with plum
pudding to follow sounds so good that he
cares nothing about the way it is served.
Outside in the yard, another Company,
housed on the lower floors, was being served
from its travelling kitchen. Every face wore
a happy grin. "Gee!" said. one boy, "all I
want is for Christmas to come twice a week."
A young McGill man was opening with
hearty goodwill a big case that had arrived
from England in time. It contained smokes
and other good things for every man.
At each point the Colonel tasted the food
in orthodox fashion and wished one and all
".'\ Merry Christmas." "Men," he said,
"may this be the last Christmas in the
trenches. May our job be done and well
done before next Christmas comes round,
and may we share it with our own loved ones
at home." There was a sudden response, a
stir as though a wave of emotion had swept
•over the crowd.
He railed on me to say a word. I have
spoken to many assemblies in many lands,
from vast mobs of striking Eastern European
miners In Pennsylvanian coalfields to the se-
lect audience of a Royal Society in London.
Iliirili r ill nifiii hif I. II III. ('. II. Hiiniiiiil. (l.M.I'.i
CANADA /.V KHAKI
Page 77
But as I looked in front of
me at the cheering soldiers,
with their worn, weather-
beaten faces, their trench-
stained garments, their air
of resolution, endurance
and confidence, I felt that
this was no moment for
oratory. For a few brief
seconds I told them of the
messages the dear ones at
home had sent through me
to them. "What word
shall I send back?" I
asked. "Shall I say that
to-day your hearts are with
them and that you are
dwelling on the memories
of the old folk, and the
waiting wife?" "You bet
your life I " shouted one
man from the corner.
There was no need for me
to say more, and I would
have found it difficult to
go on.
I am tired of the conven-
tion which always repre-
sents the soldier at the
front with a grin on his
face. Of course, he makes
a brave show of it; of
course, he keeps a speci-
ally stiff upper lip when
visitors are by. Yet the
life of the man in the
fighting lines is any-
thing but a time of laughter. It is a life
where human energy is taxed to the full. It
is a life with its hours of great loneliness, its
constant spells of almost incredible endur-
ance. That it has its splendid compensations
no one would deny, the soldier least of all.
But it would be well if the civilian could
sometimes realise more its hardness and the
supreme test of body and soul that it involves.
In the village itself there were notices up
about Christmas entertainments. At 2 p.m.
there was to be a Band Concert; at 2.45
there was a show in the Cinema Hall, led
by Captain Plunkett and a quartet. The
By A. Moreland
Tommy: "I think you'd better walk sideways, Fritz, or youll
be too much for my sense of humour"
Scots — trust them for that — were not ne-
glected, and Captain W. A. Cameron, of
Toronto, was going to lecture on "An Hour
wi' Burns." The sun had now come out. I
could not stay to see the afternoon in the
villages, for I was already due in the
trenches. The communicating lines up to the
front were very long at this point. At first
they were well laid with bath mats, but as
one got near the front, the mud grew thicker
and thicker. Darkness was already creeping
in by the time we reached the Colonel's dug-
out. He was just having tea, and he opened
as a Christmas treat a little packet of short-
Page 78
CAi'^ADA IN KHAKI
bread. You cannot get Christmas fare in the
front lines, whatever imaginative chroniclers
may say. He was in the best of spirits, for
only a few days before his battalion had con-
ducted a successful raid against the enemy.
He told me the story aver again, how they
had swept through the German lines, de-
stroyed hundreds of yards of defences and
come back in safety. Leaving him, I went
on to the outposts.
The mud was now almost impassable.
"We had better not go round this way," said
my guide. "Three men got stuck in here
yesterday and had to be dug out. Let's try
the other way." We passed by a detour out
into No Man's Land. We were now wading
through mud. Go as quickly as one could,
it was impossible to avoid splashing. We
slipped through our own wires; we moved
along, crouching low. "We are just under
the German wires now," my friend said.
"Move a little to our left and we will come
to our advance post." And there we found
them. They were soaked, for they were
standing almost up to their middles in mud.
The parts of their clothes that were visible
were all covered with mud. Their steel hel-
mets were mud splashed; their gas helmets
were wet. The clouds had gathered again,
the rain was beginning to come on. But
their bombs were dry and their rifles ready
for business. They were listening intently.
At any moment the enemy might be on them.
Again I looked at them. I started to offer
the conventional Christmas greeting, "A
merry Christmas," but the words died away
on my lips. It was quite dark by the time
we left the front lines, and the journey back
was by no means easy. Horses were to have
been waiting for us when we got out of the
communicating trenches, but, by some mis-
understanding, they had not arrived. My
companion made his way to a field telephone
station and I waited outside. It was a
strange Christmas evening. A bitterly cold
wind was blowing. There was beating rain,
hardening to sleet. All along an immense
arc. away behind to the left, away behind to
tht richt, away in front, great flares were
consiJinily showing. These were the flares
sent up on the enemy from, for the Germans
were on three sides of wliere we now stood.
This very road could be, aad was at times,
swept by their guns from behind. From the
distance there came the occasional sound of
an exploding shell. Apart from that, the
countryside seemed wrapped in the stillness
of death.
My companion came out and we walked
on. The horses soon met us, and thea came
a sharp ride through a heavy hailstorm to
the officers' mess of a friendly battalion. We
were much later than was expected. Christ-
mas dinner was almost over, but our shares
had been saved and kept hot. "Take those
wet things off," said the Colonel, "and get
warm. You have nothing to change? Well,
come down in your pyjamas if you like, so
long as you come." But the Major lent me
a tunic, sorrteone lent me something else, and
very soon I was sitting at the table. Every-
one was in high spirits. The Brigade had
done well in the fight during the last month.
It was to do better still in the future. Big
plans were ahead and victory was before us.
There were the old toasts to be drunk, the
old songs to be sung. And then we gathered
our chairs around the fire and exchanged
experiences of other days and other climes.
But gazing in the firelight there came again
before my mind the vision of the men I had
been with a few hours before, standing even
then in the sea of mud in No Man's Land,
soaked, worn, half frozen — and yet ready.
If the Kaiser were Kinii !
CANADA fX KIIAKl
Page 79
r
Hi !■ nsfathcr
'Their Christmas don't seem to fall on the same day as ours, does it, Bert?"
Page 80
CANADA IN KHAKI
THE RULING PASSION
By A. Mor eland
'Say it again, George dear; the guns are making such a noise that I didn't hear
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page 81
" Hello, Alf ! I thought you were right up the line.'
" No, they sent me down here for a rest."
CANADA'S THREE YEARS
OF WAR
By MAJOR F. DAVY
(CANADIANS cannot look back over the
^ past three years of world history without
much fullness of heart and great depth of
thought and feeling. None who have taken
an active part in the great struggle can review
the war without a multitude of reminiscences
—some picturesque, some gay and bright,
many fraught with sadness, but ail interest-
ing and all tempered with the gratification that
Canada in the freshness of her national youth
has taken a high-souled part in the war. In
the valour of her fighting men and the
national sincerity of her people Canada stands
always in the front rank.
Of those who still remain of the first thirty-
three thousand — Canada's counterpart of
Britain's original E.xpeditonary Force — none
will forget that majestic journey of the Cana-
dian Expeditionary Force fleet across the
Atlantic. Not many such transport fleet for-
mations have been seen during the war, and
none such are likely to be seen again as long
as the war lasts. The activities of those busy
little cruisers and the great stretch of the
three long lines of ships, the large expanse of
ocean covered, and the lights and shades of
the glorious weather will never fade from the
memories of those who witnessed them.
Page 82
CANADA IN KHAKI
Salisbury Plain came next, and it was
almost as severe a trial as war itself. Cana-
dians well earned the soubriquet "Mudlarks,"
and incidentally fought colds, influenza, sore
throat, cerebro-spinal meningitis, and scores
of other ills that flesh is heir to. But after
that nightmare the mud of Flanders carried
no threatening terrors for Canadians. As far
as mud was concerned, they had experienced
the superlative. Nothing in future could be
worse. '
The first trenches entered by the Canadians
were in the locality of Armenti^res and
Ploegsteert. There they were distributed
among some of the original British Expedi-
tionary Force units which were holding the
line at that point. They chatted under the
silent stars with men whose units had fought
brigades, whose brigades had fought divi-
sions, and whose divisions had fought armies;
and as they chatted they absorbed some of
the spirit of those heroic veterans of the
darker days in the campaign in 1914.
Strange old days of war they seem now, ^
those days when no communication trenches
existed, and reliefs and rations went in over-
land under cover of the darkness. Pill-boxes
and tunnelling companies were then unknown,
and in most cases a single ditch formed what
was called the front-line trench. The line of
guns then was thin indeed. To some extent,
perhaps, archaic drill-book ideas determined
their distribution, but even when more had
been asked for they were not forthcoming,
for they had not been made.
Next, the Canadian Division — at that time
a mobile force sometimes belonging to one
Army, sometimes to another — moved to the
vicinity of Fleurbaix, Bac St. Maur and
Sailly-sur-la-Lys, and some time in March,
1915, the little gatherings in divisional and
brigade messes drank a toast to "The Day" —
the day Canadians first held a bit of the line
all on their own. On that day the New World
rejoined the Old, and henceforth Canadians
were to be for ever linked in the chain of
European history.
Not long afterwards the Canadian Division
supported the left flank in the attack on Neuve
Chapelle, the fir^t big concentration of artil-
lery in the war, a concentration so well
planned and executed that it blew the enemy's
front line trench out of existence, demoralised
his line at that point, and resulted in the
capture of a large number of prisoners and
material. It was in that battle that Britain
first used her newly designed 15-inch
howitzers.
Then came a short period of rest, and the
Canadian Division was moved to Ypres,
where in the well-remembered second battle
of that ill-fated place it earned undying fame.
Then it moved to Givenchy and FestuBert,
in the vicinity of Bethune, then back to
Ploegsteert and Neuve Eglise. Meanwhile
the Second Division arrived, and the Cana-
dian Corps came into existence. For a long .
time the two divisions valiantly held the line
in the Ypres sector and portions to the south,
such as Neuve Eglise and Ploegsteert Wood.
The Third Division arrived a few months
after the Second, and troops of each of the
three divisions had their share of the fighting
in front of Kemmel, at St. Eloi, at Hooge,
at Sanctuary Wood and other points in the
fatal salient. After its long service in Flan-
ders it was with great joy that all ranks of
the Canadian Corps in the late summer of
1916 received orders to proceed to the Somme.'
Just as -the Corps was leaving Ypres the
Fourth Canadian Division arrived and took
over a portion of the line. It rejoined the
Corps later when it took over the Vimy
sectoi".
The work of the Canadians on the Somme
wrote mor^ glorious pagep of history for them,
and culminated in the capture of Courcelette
(when tanks were first used) and in the heroic
defence of the territory beyond it. Moving
with great facility, the British Divisions went
in and out of the Somme valley; and the
Canadian Corps' next duty was in the Loos
and Vimy sectors, where, after, nine months'
study of the positions, the Canadians, with
the technical exactness of veterans and with
unfailing valour, captured the ridge that for
so long had dominated the British positions
in the coalfields of France. Then followed
persistent and heroic work about Lens, a
position of tremendous technical difficulties,
and in October, 1917, the Canadians found
themselves again on the ground of their early
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page 83
sacrifices, the salient of Ypres, where they
again distinguished themselves on the heights
of Passchendaele.
Ypres, Givenchy, Festubert, St. Eloi, Sanc-
tuary Wood, Hooge, Courcelette, Vimy,
Lens, Passchendaele — what prouder record
could a military force desire?
As an American paper said: "It is an
epic which Homer might have been proud to
tell."
The Canadian Corps, through its magni-
ficent service, has made it a proud and hon-
ourable thing to be called a Canadian.
Canadians have gone forth to the war with
fightheartedness and gaiety. In their con-
versation and in their little trench journals
they have carried into the battle line the terms
of the Canadian mining camps, Canadian
lumber woods, Canadian prairies, and the
picturesque slang of city streets, of lacrosse
fields, hockey rinks and baseball grounds.
But in" England, in France, or at home they
have never let their gaiety of heart turn them
aside from a serious view of the war, its re-
sponsibilities or its dangers, and Canada's
recently accomplished Union Government and
adoption of conscription bear incontestable
pjoof of her determination to stay in the
game to the finish and to let her full weight
be felt to the end.
By Thomas Htnrf
IRONY!
A pathetic sketch frooi life
Page 84
CANADA IN KHAKI
A FIGHT WITH A
SUBMARINE
Tale of a Newfoundland Skipper
By WILLIAM HOPE HODGSON
Author of " The House on the Borderland," " The Ghost Pirates," etc.
YOU don't believe in miracles, don't you ?
Well, I do, and I'll tell you ,hy, if
you care to listen. A miracle happened to
me this last October, out in the North Sea.
Oh, I'm not telling you whereabout, nor
where we were bound for; but I don't mind
telling you we got the shock of our lives when
a darned brute of a German submarine came
alongside of us, shoved up a quick-firer out
of a sort of hatch foreside of the conning-
tower, and batted a shell bang across our
bows.
Not being either a hero or a man-of-war,
but just an average aggregate of flesh and
blood and bones born and bred in the ways
of common sense in the port of St. John's,
Newfoundland, I rang the telegraph to stop,
pretty smart; and when our way was off us,
she slid alongside near enough to talk, and
the officer in command, a snorty sort of
person, sung out to me to lower our dinghy,
with a couple of men, and pull across to her,
" Do you want me ? " I asked.
"Nol" he said in English good enough to
go down anywhere. "Stay where you are,
Cap'n, and keep order. If anyone starts any
funny business, just understand I'll sink you
before you can say your prayers. Be smart
with that boat, I want it ! "
Well, of course, I sent the boat, and she
came back in about ten minutes with three
thumping, greasy, great Germans, and a cute
little dumpling of an officer, partly gold lace,
and the rest bad manners and thirst.
First thing he did was to go for the mani-
fest, and the second was a bottle of "Black
and White." The third thing was to start in
Copyright in the United States of America.
on my own special ,brand of cigars, and the
fourth was to tell me to keep out of my own
cabm! Suffering Jehoshaphat ! But the little
brute was nearer Kingdom Come that same
moment than ever he'll guess, till he gets
there ! They say there's something in the
blood of Newfoundlanders that makes it boil
at the thought of the most tepid insult. Arid
this wasn't an affront of the brand marked
"extra mild."
However, I kept the stopper on, and shoved
my gear into the first mate's room, and he
went into the second's and pushed poor old
Welby into the bottom bunk. I felt sorry
for Welby, but I guess we all had our
troubles !
They were busy all day — the German
thieves, I mean — carting stuff across in the
boat. They took charge entirely, and I was
told if I showed on deck they'd shove day-
light through me. The same with the two
mates. And I understood from the steward,
who was allowed to go along the decks to
the galley, that the men had been told to keep
in the fo'c'sle.
I couldn't quite twig what the whole game
was. It was something more than stocking
their larder and filling up with oil from the
engineers' store-room. They kept us going
at about quarter speed, I judge, and from the
tell-tale in the saloon I could see they'd
altered the course a couple of points more to
the norrard. There was something ugly in
view, and I'd have given a whole lot to shove
a spoke in their wh^l and mess up their little
plans.
Well, after thinking it over I began to get
the beginnings of a plan in the back of my
mind that would start something on the
r.lV t/>,l IX K II Ah' I
rape 85
/;v (_ ii.i.-. fears
"It came for us. Then 'cr-rash' again, and the whole top of the engine-room skylight seemed to fly
up in a shower of glass splinters"
"A Fight with a Submarine"
I
Page 86
CANADA IN KHAKI
CANADIAN FACES ONLY KNOW THE SMILE OF VICTORY
There is no such thing as a gloomy Canadian soldier. These snapshots, taken in the front
line, should convert the worst pessimist
Canadian Official Photographs
CANADA lA' KHAKI
Fage 87
enemy, and I went to call the mate to talk
things over with me.
"Come into my room, Mister Belston," I
said. "I've been thinking this confounded
business over, and I've got an idea."
The mate climbed out of the top bunk,
and the second mate, Mister Welby, shoved
his head out of the bottom one.
"Not you, Mister Welby," I told him. "If
we have a crowd in my room that fat German
hog '11 get smelling seven kinds of rats, and
that won't do. The mate will tell you what
I've got to say when he comes back."
I went back to my room, and the mate
followed me in his shirt and trousers.
And then, you know, I'd no more got the
business opened up to Mister Belston when
the steward knocked gently on the door and
shoved his head in.
"Sir, they're talking German. The sub-
marine's right alongside, an' him " — he
jerked his thumb over his shoulder to mean
the officer who had been put in charge of my
ship — "he's gassing back. I been listening
through the pantry port-hole, only I don't
know no German. You do, don't you, sir?
It's dark in there, an' maybe you'd hear
K-^mething as would be useful "
Good man, steward," I said, interrupting
him. "Get along and keep cave for me.
Mister Belston, you stay here, quiet. I'll be
back in a minute."
I went across to the pantry, which was dark,
and told the steward to get out and keep
watch in the hood companionway, and let me
know the moment he saw anyone coming
along to come below. Then I shut myself
into the pantry so that the light from the
saloon would not show me through the port.
After that I got close up to the port-hole, and
started to listen for all I was worth.
The submarine was lying within two
fathoms of our side, and the conning-tower
was almost level with my face. The night
was absolutely still and calm, and I could
hear every word. What was more to the
point, I'd picked up enough German in my
schooling days in St. John's to be able to
understand all that was said; and what they
were saying was just plain life and death to
every man aboard, and to others as well,
a— II
Of all the cold-blooded brutes that ever
sailed God's seas, they were the — well, judge
for yourself, then you'll realise just how much
chance any of us had got of being alive the
following night, unless I could start in and
work a small miracle.
«
The officer in the mouth of the conning-
tower did the bulk of the talking. He was
the boss. What he said I can put briefly.
Here's the point. They were planning to
use the old Narcissus as a stalking-horse.
They'd got inside information from some
darned traitor who traded into Hartlepool,
so it seemed, and was the mate of a small
coaling steamer in the Dutch trade. He gets
hold of information from a German bum
"agency" ashore, and peddles it round to.
those beggars on the trip to Holland. My
oath ! I swore if ever I came out alive
there'd be a new mate to that steamer, and
he'd make a hole in the sea just big enough
to hold him through Eternity !
They'd got the news from this chap that
a Battle Squadron was going North, and they
were aiming to take my ship right across their
track and lie hid under our lee until the
squadron was quite close up to us. Then
they were going to slip out and bust off all
the torpedoes they'd got into the middle of the
fleet; and they reckoned they were absolutely
certain to get at least a couple of our Dread-
noughts. They simply gloated about it, until
I was ready to let loose with my automatic
and make one less, at any rate, of that little
lot. And then came the final thing — the
limit The it of German milk of human
kindness and decency !
Listen ! As soon as the English Battle
Fleet was sighted, we were to be shot, so as
to ensure that there would be no danger of
our giving any sort of warning signal at the
crucial moment. Wasn't that just German I
Efficiency gone mad ! And, as all extremes
are bound to do, defeating its own ends; for
that last detail, when I told it to the mates,
made them ready to go right slam down into
hell and pluck the Kaiser himself by the
moustache out of the biggest pot of brim-
stone there. I guess when men know they've
got to die they ain't exactly particular what
risks they run to get a chance of living and
Page 88
CANADA IN KHAKI
American : " A darned good suit, but not gas-tight.
By K. H. Broc^
getting even. That may be Irish ; but, by the
Lord, it's like a lot of Irishisms I've heard
from Paddys toiling in the mists on the Great
Newfoundland Banks; it's plain sense!
Of course, all this fresh news altered my
half-cooked plans, and I just loaded the mate
up with all I'd learnt, and sent him back into
his room to prime the second mate, and make
him as ready for murder and sudden death
as the two of us were already 1
Well, we held a War Council later and
settled something that meant quick death or
sudden delivery for the whole lot of us.
First of all I told the steward to keep on
the watch, and to start coughing the moment
he heard anyone coming. Then I went over
the whole plan again, and told the mates
exactly what to do.
They were to lash me up in my bunk and
gag me. As soon as I heard the other
officer come below with the man who seemed
always to attend him wherever he went, I
would groan in such a way as to call their
attention. They'd come to see what was the
matter, and the two mates who would be
waiting were to bash them on the head with
a couple of bootjacks (excellent "bashers"
are bootjacks too !) and tie them up. The
bashing was not meant to break anything,
but just to daze them a bit and make them
easy to handle.
Then they would haul the dinghy alongside,
shove some grub and water mto her, and
take the German officer and one or two of his
men and "get."
"You see," I finished up, "the submarine
will be bound to go searching for you as soon
as she finds you're gone; otherwise, if you
get ashoie with your men, or reach a patrol,
it'll be all U.P. with her little plan to use us
to stalk our ships. And while she's gone, why
I guess we'll coax our old engines to take us
away out of this before she gets back. And
she'll never sink us before going, because
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page 89
she'll look to catch you and be back in three
or four hours, and if we're sunk, well, we'd
be no use as a stalking-horse — eh?"
The whole thing worked excellently next
day. I heard the officer and his companion
(a sort of senior seaman, I fancy, who was
apparently dry-nursing him 1) come down
into the saloon. Then I groaned, and I heard
them stand a moment to listen. I groaned
again, and they came to my cabin door which
was opened and looked in over each other's
shoulder, as you might say.
"Mein Gott 1 " said the officer.
"Mein Gott! " said the man. Then I saw
my two mates behind them, and the two boot-
jacks got in a useful thump apiece on their
thick German heads.
Exactly ten minutes later the two of them
were lashed up solidly and gagged, and laid
on the floor of my cabin to groan in unison •
with me. We all groaned.
My two mates and the steward went on
deck in search for the two other men. One
was at the wheel, and the other was sleeping
in my chart'-house. Both got bashed, and
lashed up and gagged. Then the second
mate took the wheel, while the mate went
forrard and routed out a man to steer, whilst
he and the second mate got busy on other
things.
The dinghy was towing astern. They hauled
her up quietly and shoved Armours' tinned
beef, water, whisky, hard biscuit, Dutch
cheese and other etceteras into her. Then
they came below and carried the German
officer on deck and lowered him quietly into
the dinghy. They collared also the two Ger-
man sailormen and lowered them on top of
their officer.
Then they came down and told me
that they were going, and just how many
sorts of a fool I had been to refuse to come
with them and to threaten to prevent them
from leaving the ship. They said they would
steer west-sou '-west, which should take them
into the Firth, and there hand their prisoners
over and start a warship off to us. After
that they elevated thumbs of insolence to their
separate noses and therewith departed, leav-
ing the German leading seaman on the floor
of the cabin to keep me company.
Seven hours and a half later the people in
the submarine came aboard. They must have
smelled a rat. Perhaps they hailed us and
got no answer; and then, when they sang
out for the dinghy, well, there was no dinghy.
Result, I guess they came right in alongside
of us, and shoved half a dozen men aboard
with rifles.
When they found the German leading
seaman and me they cut us both loose, and
then started to rough-house me ; but the Ger-
man who had been lying on my cabin floor
explained all he knew, and they had no excuse
to keep on taking it out of me. All the same,
they were pretty beastly I I guess it's just in
the blood, and they can't help it.
Well, as soon as they'd got all the detail*
they put a hustle on. They shoved a handy-
billy tackle down through the engine-room
skylight, and what do you think the cunning
devils did I They lifted off the lead of the
high-pressure cylinder and lowered it aboard
their own craft.
" Good Lord ! " I thought to myself, " that
snuffs out the cut-and-run plan ! " But
naturally I said nothing.
They weren't more than half an hour on
this job, and after that they rummaged the
flag locker and took every bit of our bunting.
It was pretty plain that they meant that we
should have no chance to fly signals during
the few hours they expected to be away in
chase of the boat. I got hoping that these
signs meant they would leave no one aboard
on guard; but I soon saw I was mistakeii;
for after holding a bit of a pow-wow on my
poop the commanding officer cleared off and
left two armed Germans aboard under the
control of the man who had been lying on
the floor of my cabin.
"Cap'n," sang out the Commander of the
submarine, after he'd got aboard his own
craft again, "I'm trusting you to keep order
while I'm gone. If you don't, well, my men
know what to do, and there'll not be one of
you left alive by the time I get back. So, I'd
be wise, if I were you, Cap'n."
"I'll be wise, right enough," I told him.
" I guess wisdom's best policy just now 1 "
"At a premium, Cap'n," he said, and
called down the speaking-tube to go ahead.
Pare 90
CANADA IN KHAKI
I could hear him laughing for a minute after-
wards as the submarine glided like a fish
into the darkness.
I leant over the poop rail and watched her
for a bit. She was evidently not going more
than half speed, and I guessed the German
officer was anxious not to get loo far before
daylight lest he should overshoot the boat
in the dark.
You see, he'd got the course the boat
would steer from the German sailorman
who had been on the floor of my cabin when
my two mates made so many unnecessary
explanations !
I grinned to myself; but all the same, I was
deuced anxious; for unless I could bottle up
those three armed Germans, and unless Mac
could see some way to do the impossible, and
unless I could carry out another notion or
two of mine, why, I couldn't see anything
but a mess, and a bad mess, inside the next
twelve hours or so, with good-bye to all hopes
of ever seeing the good port of St. John's again
at the end of it. For whether the submarine
found the boat or not we could expect her
back before the day was half through. You
see, she'd never miss a chance to get her
torpedoes off at the ships she was laying
for.
Anyway, the first problem was how to get
rid of those three big Germans.
Six hours later I went on deck, but the
leading seaman person wanted to show he
was Lord of Creation and ordered me below
without bothering to be polite about it. And
because I didn't exactly jump to do his bid-
ding he gave me a poke in the ribs with the
butt of his rifle just to make his meaning
clear. It was ! And I went !
In a way I was rather pleased. I felt more
like killing a man or two than I did. I never
was much good at the cold-blooded act. But
now I Well, you try a German rifle-butt in
your ribs if you want the edge taken off some
of your finer scruples ! It's effective !
I sat a bit in the saloon and smoked, then
I thought I would risk going through the
alleyway to Mac's room and have a word
with him. When I got there, however, Mac
was not in his bunk, and I knew he must be
down in the engine-room. So I thought
I'd risk a bit more and follow him there.
I did.
But on the fiddley I stopped; for things
were happening, right there before me.
Mac was up at the open head of the high-
pressure cylinder, with his rule and a pair of
dividers in one hand and a piece of ch;jlk
in the other. At the moment, however, he
vyas not taking measurements, but lookitig up
at the engine-room skyliglit. As I looked
up also I heard someone say from the engine-
room below :
"Vat yoous do mit dat cylingder. (iome
away dis von momengt, or tead I shood
yoous ! "
"Two of *em, begowb ! " I heard Mac mut-
ter as he stared down now into the engine-
room below.
There were certainly two of them I One,
the leading seaman, with his head shoved in
under the leaf of the open skylight, and the
other, a big brute, who must have gone down
the engine-room stairway and entered through
the stokehold doorway.
"Get away from that cylinder," said the
German in the skylight, speaking such perfect
enough English, or rather American, that it
seemed to carry me straight back home. "Get
away right now, or I'll sure lead you up solid
so you'd sink a thousand miles. I will, by
Josh I "
He began to pass his rifle in through the
opening of the skylight; and right then Mac
acted.
"Ye'll do phwatl" he said; for he's an
Irish Mac, not a Scottie. "Ye'll do phwat ! '
He said never another word, but let fly
with one of the big holding-down nuts from
the cylinder-head. The nut took the German
in the chest with a thump like a drum, and
the man went white and gasped a moment.
Then, deliberately, and before I could con-
ceive he would really do such a thing, he
shot poor old Mac through the tniddle of his
forehead, and Mac flopped a moment soft
and quiet over the edge of the cylinder. Then
rolled with a dull, sickening thump to the
floor of the engine-room.
Then I was awake, as you might say.
There's one thing in favour of an automatic,
it's quicker in the, change-speed gear, and I
CAXADA y.V KHAKI
Page 91
THEIR "LITTLE GREY HOME IN THE WEST"
.•%....-v .
ini>iiin« ^
A billet known as "Our Flat," just behind the Lines
Canadian Official Photographs
Paqr 92
CANADA TX KHAKI
ARRAS IS A VAST MONUMENT TO THE HORRORS OF INVASION
Not a house escaped the enemy's shell
The wreck of what once were quiet homes
The Grand Place was the most stately spot in France's beautiful old city
I
Broken shell of the Cathedral's glory
Only ruins remain of the Hotel de Ville
Canadian Official Photographs
CANADA IN KHAKI
Pape 93
drilled the German's forehead with two 38
holes, one above each eye — one for payment
and the other for good measure.
He hung there, dead ; half of him one side
of the skylight-coaming, and the other half
the other. But I'd no time to think about
him; for something split away a great piece
out of the peak of my cap, and the same
moment the engine-room loomed again to a
rifle-shot. The German down below had
loosed off at me.
However, I'd no need to bother about him.
The second engineer and two of the stokers
got him on the run, and what they did to.
him was sufficient and a bit over. Only, of
course, Mac was a good boss and well liked,
and I can't say / blame them.
I heard someone running along the after
well-deck then, and I stepped out with my
automatic in my fist. It was the third Ger-
man, and the moment he saw me with the
automatic in my hand he let drive. So did
I. It was a draw, I should fancy, for we both
missed !
Before he could work the bolt I let drive
again, and got him through the right fore-
arm. But he was plucky, right enough. He
snapped the bolt back and forward and fired
from his hip. The bullet took away the whole
of my right coat-pocket without touching me.
It's queer what tricks a bullet will play at
times.
I fired again, and got him in the left Hand,
and at that he ran all the way aft to the poop,
crying aloud with the pain of it. I was
sorry for the beggar; but he was still dan-
gerous, for he had taken his ride with him ;
and the next thing I knew, he snapped oflF a
shot at me from behind one of the after
ventilators.
He missed me by a mile. I guessed he
was shaking too much, and I felt he couldn't
By 0<nn Av<\
LIBEL
Fancy sketch of a meeting of educated savages to emphatically object to the libcllnm •*atemcnt
that Hun outrages are acts of primitive savages.
Page 94
CANADA IN KHAKI
hit me now, except by a fluke; so I just
rushed him, for 1 was sick of the killing,
though I knew the brutes would not have
hesitated to shoot the whole crowd if we
hadn't got them going right from the first.
He managed another shot as I ran at him,
which was the best he made, for it nicked
the left side of my neck, and I bled like a
pig; but it was nothing more than a shallow
gouge; and the following instant I'd taken
the rifle from him and was sitting on his
head.
Afterwards I whistled for the steward, and
the two of us bandaged him up and carried
him down ' and locked him in the spare
cabin on the starboard side. Then I got
busy.
I had poor old Mac put in his berth, and
the two Germans were shoved on the fore-
hatch under some canvas. Then I went for
the second and third engineers and told them
what I wanted doing.
It seems there is an old high-pressure cover
in the store-room that has been there for
many a voyage, and Mac had been planning
to make a try at fitting it on in place of the
other, so that we could get up steam and
be away before the submarine returned.
■We got the cover out of the store-room, and
while the engineers tried it for the fit, I had
all my deck hands running around on a
special job of my own. The old packet
fairly hummed with energy let loose,
" Well ? " I asked a bit later when I went
back to the engine-room. "How is it, you
two ? Can it be made to fit ? "
"Yes, sir," said the second. "All the bolt
holes don't come into the same places, and
we'll have to drill four new ones, and we'll
have to pack her up, but I reckon we can do
it, only it'll take time."
I nodded, and Ifeft them to get at it; for
they are good men, both of them, and I knew
they'd do their darndest. But, as you can
guess, I was as anxious as a maggot on a
hot brick. However, I'd business of my own
to do, and I did it, and between whiles I paid
visits to the engine-room, and I'll own to a
prayer or two; for there would be no sort of
mercy shown us once the submarine came
back, as I jolly well knew.
Two hours passed, and I'd paid three
visits to the engine-room. The donkey-man
and two stokers were taking one-minute
spells at a geared hand-drill which the two
engineers were tending in a pretty earnest
sort of way.
The fourth time I went they'd got the four
holes drilled out by hand, and a weary job
it had been with the poor tools they'd
got, and the cylinder cover, of course, prov-
ing to be extra hard stuff, just for sheer
cussedness.
The sixth time I went along aU hands were
busy, working like madmen, with sheet
copper and cold chisels cutting out packing
to raise the cylinder head which was not
enough domed to give sufficient clearance to
the newer-pattern piston.
"Mister Melbray," I said to the second en-
gineer, "it's four hours and twenty minutes
since that darned submarine went away look-
ing for the dinghy. I guess we can look for
her back any time inside the next hour or so ;
an' if she finds us here like this it'll be
bye-bye for all of us. How long do you
reckon you'll be now before you can put
steam through your gadgets?"
"Another half-hour, maybe, Cap'n," he
told me; "an' even then, it's God help us,
I'm thinking, if we can't make a good steam-
tight job of this. She'll have to do all she ,
knows to get anywhere before that darned
submarine be on top of us, if we don't get
shifting before she gets near us. What do
you reckon those U submarines can do on the
surface, sir?"
"The Lord knows," I told him. "No one
knows, really; but I understand they're sup-
posed to run up to fifteen knots in fine
weather, that is."
He shrugged his shoulders in a sort of
hopeless fashion, but he never stopped work-
ing for a moment.
"Give us another twenty or thirty minutes,
Cap'n," he said at last. "I'll try her then;
and I guess we'll blow something adrift
before we let them come up on us."
I went away again. I had sent a man aloft
to keep a look out all round, but there were
BO signs of the submarine ; though, as a bit
of a breeze had sprung up, she wouldn't
CAS' A DA IN KHAKI
Page 95
be SO easy to see in the broken water if
she were running with only her periscope
out.
I walked the poop, pretty anxiously for the
next ten minutes; then I got more philo-
sophical, and decided the whole job wasn't
worth indigestion. So I came below and had
a smoke. At the end of the half-hour I
walked forrard to the engine-room and shoved
my head in the skylight.
"Well?" I asked.
"Just going to put the steam through her,
Cap'n," said the second engineer.
He was sweating, and he and the third
engineer and the donkey-man were heaving
away pretty fierce on a four-foot spanner,
compressing the sheets of copper packing to '
a steam-tight "consistency."
And then, from my man aloft, came the
yelp of :
"Submarine on the port beam, sir 1 Sub-
marine on the p6rt beam. She's dead on the
beam, sir; about four miles off, I reck'n.
. . . She ain't got the boat! " He yelled
that out with triumph. Then, in a different
voice : " 'Less they've sunk her ! "
"That's all right, my lad I " I said to my-
self. "Don't worry! "
You see, when the two mates explained
their proposed course with such exact detail
in my cabin, well — they were remembering
that they were going to l^ave one German
behind just for the one purpose of passing
on that bit of information. I need hardly
say that the boat steered a very different
course indeed 1 That would have been on^
comfort whatever else happened.
I shoved my head in the engine-room
again to see how they were managing. As
I did so the engine began to turn over slowly.
The third was at the main steam-valve giv-
ing her steam gently, and the second and
the donkey-man were standing anxiously by
the high-pressure to see how the packing
held the steam. It held fine, and the second
grinned up at me as pleased as Punch.
"Good man," I said, and pulled out my
head and bellowed for a m^n to go to the
wheel ; for the old Narcissus had started to
forge slowly ahead.
I went to the side and grinned down like
a delighted maniac at the water moving past
our side as our speed increased. Then there
was a yell from the man aloft.
"They'm shootin', sir I They'm shoot-
in' 1 "
As he yelled I heard the scream of a high-
velocity shell from the submarine's si.\-
pounder, and cr-rash, a regular hole was bust
in our steel bulwarks on the port side about
thirty feet foreside of me, for the shell struck
there and, burst, the bits cracking and
thudding viciously all over the place. I
should never have imagined that six pounds
of iron would have gone so far in the spread-
ing line. It sounded like half a hundred-
weight.
No one was hurt, and I made one jump for
the bridge and rang the telephone for full
speed ahead.
"Shove your helm over hard-a-port I " I
shouted at the man at the wheel.
As the old Narcissus started to pay off I
saw a flash aboard the submarine, now about
two and a half miles away, or perhaps a bit
less. And then, almost in the same instant,
the queer, beastly "meeee" whine of the
high-velocity shell crowding the wide miles
into a couple of seconds. "Meee-owww," it
went, changing its note in a queer fashion as
it came for us. Then "cr-rash" again, and
the whole top of the engine-room skylight
seemed to fly up in a shower of glass
splinters.
I grabbed the speaking-tube to the engine-
room.
" Anyone hurt ? " I called.
After a few moments the third engineer's
voice answered :
" It got the, second, sir. He's dead. The
engine's all right, though," he said. He
sounded calm enough, and I sent a man for
the steward to go down the engine-room and
see if the second was quite knocked out.
Then I turned and looked for the sub-
marine again. She was right astern now and
seemed to be gaining only slowly. As I
stared I saw the flash of the gun again, and
then once more came the beastly whine of
the shell.
" Bang ! " it struck the middle steel bridge-
stanchion which supports the centre of the
Page 9«
CANADA IN KHAKi
By Tom Arthur
Professional Guardian of the Peace (who knows where the sergeant is): "Evening, gentlemen.
Nasty night for your job."
bridge. This is a stout three-inch stanchion
of solid steel. The shell gouged away a piece
as easily as if it had been putty and burst
with a stunning crash directly under the
bridge. Two of the middle planks were blown
up on end, and in three places fragments of
shell struck clean up through the deck of the
bridge penetrating right through the heavy
planks. One of these fragments killed the
man at the wheel, and I jumped to steady the
helm, while I sung out for another man to
come aft.
I looked round with a feeling of despair.
The whole sea was empty of shipping from
horizon to horizon, and I didn't pretend to
hide the fact that nothing short of a miracle
could save us; for the German wasn't out to
coddle us, I could bet on that !
The steward came up on the bridge and
reported that the second engineer was head-
less and therefore unmistakably dead. I told
him to give a hand to carry the dead helms-
man down on to the main deck hatch, and
then bring a flag and cover him. I guessed
we'd be gone inside twenty minutes; but we
might as well be decent.
1 was just beginning to get sentimental
over the old folks at home and saying a last
farewell, as it were, to all my pals in New-
foundland I should never see again, when I
caught suddenly the " meeee " scream of
another shell coming. " Meeee-oww, cr-rash I "
... It ripped a monstrous great chunk out
of the funnel, about half of it; and it seemed
to me I felt our speed drop right then in that
same moment.
Then one, two, thuee, four . . . one after
the other they loosed oflf at us as fast as, they
could work the quick-firer. The air seemed
one whining scream as the four shells came
"Cr-rash ! Cr-rash ! Cr-rash I Cr-rash I " The
rest of the funnel vanished. The wheel, and
the man at it, v^ent in a flying cloud of spokes
and torn flesh and clothing, and the after
mast was punched clean through, and the
chart-house was wrecked. My steward was
wounded, and I saw one of the deck boys
limping along the main deck.
CAXADA IX KHAKI
Page 97
BURIED TREASURE AT SOUCHEZ THE BOCHES NEVER FOUND
Canadians dug up the money which the officials r^i the recovered town had hidden two years
before when they were compelled to fly before the enemy
1 i.e Alderman, with the Mayor on his right, finds the cash correct, and is delighted
Vaiituliaii Official Photograph
Page 98
CANADA IN KHAKI
A THILLING PASTIME: "SNAPPING" SHELL-FIRE AT THE FRONT
The Canadian photographer was well to the front when he "took" this portion of the
German barrage at the Somme offensive
Three remarkably interesting "studies" of trench-mortar shells bursting
Cluster of shells bursting on Vimy Ridge
A mine exploding on Vimy Ridge
Canadian Official Photographs
CANADA IN KHAKI
Pagr !)9
WONDERFUL SNAPSHOT STUDIES OF BURSTING SHRAPNEL
A picture taken close up. The shell killed several men near the photographer
Smoke from bursting shrapnel frequently assumes fascinating and fantastic shapes
A view from Vimy Ridge. Enemy shrapnel bursting over advanced positions to which the
Canadians had pushed towards Lens after the victory
Canadian Official Photographs
Vnqr 100
CANADA IN KHAKI
BRINGING THE WOUNDED FROM THE BATTLE OF HILL 70
Fierce as was this engagement the casualties were remarkably light
German prisoners, as usual, were glad 'o help carry in their own wounded
Vunaclian Official Photographs
CANADA IN KHAKI
Pa^e 101
"Jehoshaphat! " I said; "we're done 1 "
... I didn't even know I was bleeding all
down my face where a shell-splinter had
cut me.
Two more shells came Thud ! Thud ! —
dull ugly thumps away aft in the stern of her
that told me the Germans had started now to
sink us in real earnest. You never saw such
deliberate murder !
"Cr-rash ! " came another shell, higher this
time, and killed the boy who was limping
along the deck.
I stared round and round the horizon in
despair. I sung out to the man aloft to know
whether he could see anything. He simply
shook his head in a hopeless, silent sort of
way.
I found myself praying aloud in a fierce
sort of fashion for a miracle to happen ;
for nothing but a miracle could save us
now.
And suddenly, like the voice of God :
B-A-N-G !
It was coming from somewhere ahead of
us on the starboard bow, but precious
close.
I raced across to the starboard end of the
bridge :
B-A-N-G !
The miracle had happened. A long grey
shape was tearing through the sea, firing as
she went.
It was one of our latest submarines that had
just bobbed up :
B-A-N-G !
I whipped round with my binoculars and
stare^ at that murdering brute astern.
" Flash ! "
I was just in time to see her go straight
down into hades with all her devils aboard of
her. The shell from the submarine ahead had
hit her slap at the base of the conning-tower,
and she just simply vanished — went 1
No, there was no miracle about it; not if
you want to argue. But I don't 1
The dinghy was overhauled and my two
mates and the greaser taken aboard by the
submarine, one of our latest type on patrol
duty. The poor old Narcissus foundered
inside of half an hour.
But, by the Lord, I'm a believer in miracles
from now onwards.
By A. MortUnd
Sergeant (who has exhausted his vocabulary): '•Would you like me to say 'please' to you?"
r.nrc 102
CANADA IN KHAK,
YE OLDE MESS TIN
SPEAKETHE !
By Private F. W. DAGLISH
Illustrated bt> WDLEY HARDY
NEARLY every item in the Army has
been " iMentioned in Dispatches."
F.ven my unworthy friend the Ross Rifle ha^
received write-ups galore, but never a word
about me. Yet I'll wager that I've been of
more service to Tommy than any rifle.
I distinctly remember being born. That
IS much more than some of you can do.
How proud I felt, the day they piled me
up with hundreds more, shining in my newly
tinned glory. But those nursery days were
short.
I was soon hustled into the world to
finally attach myself like a faithful dog to
Tommy ; to be blest, curst, kicked and dented
around the battlefield.
I understood that my duties were to carry
I ha been used for a shaving-mug "
and hold fo'od and drink for Tommy ; 1 never
thought of being brought so low down
as to becorhe a "wash-bowl" and "hand
basin." I have also been used for a shaving
mug.
I cried so much at this injustice that the
tears salted down the outside, and I rusted.
No gentle hand or dry cloth was used to wipe
my face. Eventually when on parade an
officer bawled Tommy out for my sickly look-
ing condition.
The result of this interview was my being
scrubbed and scoured most mercilessly, with
threats and curses about being thrown on the
scrap pile.
During my career I have been a "Loving
Cup" to many thirsty mouths; I was
originally intended for the "Tea-total"
service, but was soon torn away from those
moral paths.
I have often visited the estaminet, and been
brought back home foaming at the mouth ;
getting gleeful satisfaction in the morn watch-
ing the grimace made by Tommy as he tasted
his tea mixed with the dregs from the
debauchery of the night before.
I have even in a small way attempted to
compete with the big Stone Jar. Many a time
has Tommy stolen away with me at night,
with an exploited portion of "Neat stuff"
filched from that jar.
My internal discolourings would turn the
inside of a black teapot green with envy.
You may laugh when I say I have even saved
Tommy's life on more than one occasion.
Yes, this little thin crescent-shaped piece o'
tin has sufficed to turn aside many a deadly
piece of shrapnel.
My career nearly came to an end one bright
moonlight night when going "over the top."
Poor Tommy, he "Went West," and Fritz
CAS ADA /.V KHAKI
Page I 03
"I have often visited the estaminet"
pounced upon me with many guttural ex-
clamations. How I hated that German ; he
was like all the rest of them, "souvenir-hunt-
ing," I suppose.
I will admit he polished me up, and for a
while he seemed quite proud of me. But soon
the novelty of my capture wore off, and I was
torn from my pedestal to administer to his
gluttonous appetite.
How I longed to be under the BrJtish flag
once more, to carry a D.C.M. (Decent
Canadian Meal) to some hungry Tommy.
My breath soon reeked with the taste and
smell of mysterious sausages, while fats and
oils of a doubtful character sickened me.
One night after supper, when lying on the
shelf, I heard great excitement outside. My
German friends "beat it," leaving me all
alone. A bomb hurled down the steps blew
me clean off the shelf ; I sure thought my last
day had come-
Then down those steps came a bunch of
Tommies, flashing lights everywhere. How
glad I was to hear an English voice once
more. Then I thought, "Suppose they miss
me, or think me of no consequence." My
heart froze within me when one fellow kicked
me into the corner.
But one of them grabbed me, saying,
"Just what I want I Fancy raising a Billy
Can in Fritz's lines, after hollering my head
off at the Q.M. two months for nothing."
He then looked me over and saw poor
Tommy's name scratched on the bottom. His
face hardened as I heard him say, "Belonged
to some poor devil that's 'Gone West,' I
guess."
For a time I was cared for much better
by this fellow than before; perhaps he had
learnt from experience the value of a Mess
Tin.
Eventually I was thrown on the scrap
pile to make way for one of those r.ew
"Draft tins." Having done my duty, I
desired to "Rest in Peace," but such was not
my lot.
" Just what I want ! "
I was salvaged with many other things,
shipped to the Base Hospital, and there re-
tinned and soldered, and shipped up the line
again, just like new.
No; my career is not ended, I'm here for
the Duration, if not a little longer.
Pte. F. W. Daiglish, O.M.F.C.
Pnse 104
CANADA IN KHAKI
WHAT'S
By CAPTAIN A. ROCKE
When you've done your'
bit in Flanders, that
amazing muddy spot,
It starts one cogitating and
a-wondering what's
what —
Why you left the plough,
the ink-pot, or some other
"cushy" job
For the slushy, shivering
trenches with a vermin-
stricken mob ?
'Cause a Tommy is but
human after all, and
prone to doubt
What the devil all the kill-
ing and the murdering's
about.
Ever since I came to Blighty
I've been reading ^p a bit
How the world was ever
fighting; had to have a
martial fit
In the Bowery or the Bal-
kans or some Asiatic zoo,
Where a martyr may be
Tartar, Mongol, Malay,
or Hindoo.
E'en the pre-historic cave
man was as happy as
could be
As he slew his sleepi
bride with nasty, neolithic
glee!
ng^^/
WHAT
ROBERTSON, C.A.M.C.
Then the Jews and 'Gyp-
tians also were a mighty
martial lot —
Slew each other with a shin-
bone, ass's jaw, or drink-
ing-pot.
Interference with longevity
was their besetting sin ;
They were fairly nuts on
brevity— unless it's men-
tionin'
Methuselah, the good old
scout, who lived a life so
long
That he rivals Johnnie
Walker in the art of "go-
ing strong."
And as for Greeks and
Romans, well, they made
a mess of it,
'Twas a scandal such as
Vandal, Hun or Goth
would ne'er commit —
So civilised and legalised !
Ach Gottl it's all the
same.
Only "Kultur " is a vulture,
eau-Cologned and slightly
tame.
It's no use reading history ;
the riddle or the plot
That the sages of all ages
couldn't solve remains —
what's what.
By J. Hassall
4
A WAR-TIME WARNING
r,y TIwiiuLs 11 cur y
CAXADA IN KHAKI
Page 106
By Frank Stychi
Cheerful Pal (to weary Tommy on his first route march, with Main Body half a mile ahead) :
"What are yer laughing at, Charlie?"
THE COCKNEY TELLS THE
CANADIAN SOMETHING
A Veracious Account of an Actual Conversation
IN the days before the war," said the Cock-
ney with emphasis, "I should have been
paying for that drink of yours, and I
shouldn't have allowed you to pay for this
drink of mine "
"You don't say," remarked the Canadian.
He had his doubts evidently, but the Cockney
was not disturbed.
"We should have had these cocktails to-
gether, and then we should have dined," he
continued. "Our dinner would have consisted
of caviare, soup, fish, entree, joint, game, two
hundred sweets and a savoury. We should
have drunk champagne, and brandy that
came over with William the Conqueror. The
waiters would have put two pounds of our
change under the bill and taken five bob out
of the eight and fourpence they brought to
us. We should have lighted cigars which
now cost three shillings, and they would have
cost us two. The girls would have taken
creme de menthe, and twelve pence would
have bought it. But, of course, we should
have laboured under the disadvantage of not
seeing their ankles, and that has to be
remembered."
Page 106
CANADA IN KHAKI
The Canadian became reflective.
"Say," he exclaimed, "it almost makes
the war worth while, doesn't it? Do you
mean to tell me that they dressed differently
then ? "
"Differently," said the Cockney, "is hardly
the word for it. The best of them resembled
Charles Lamb in that they began late, but
they differed from him in that they did not
leave off early. The best dresses were under
the table most of the time. We had not
reached the stage when the more a woman
took off, the more she got on. There was a
thing called a hobble skirt, which, looked at
sideways, had its consolations. A woman
leaped from the pavement to the platform of
the omnibus with both feet together and a
prayer upon her lips. When the Kaiser saw
her doing it he mobilised his army. That was
the real cause of the war."
The Canadian said, "Have another," and
then put the Cockney's shilling dreamily into
his own pocket.
"Is that what the Bishops have been talk-
ing about?" he asked.
"It is, sir," said the Cockney; "war has
brought great good and great evil in its
train. If it had not been for the war, sir, I
should have been a plus two man at golf by
this time and might have won the Amateur
Championship at Sandwich. We played
games in those days, and a million people
lost half their wages at football every Satur-
day. Lawn tennis absorbed the greatest in-
tellects, and the card game of Patience had
somehow put whiskers on the memory of
William Shakespeare."
The Canadian said, "Gee," but did not
quite get it. He wanted to know about those
girls.
" Plenty of 'em about before the war ? " he
asked. The Cockney worked out the sum like
lightning, remembering that two shillings
and fivepence plus one old brandy stood for
ten shillings sterling— as the waiter at the
hotel had taught him.
"There were girls," he said, "but not
enough to catch the eye of the Bishops.
Mostly they had primitive notions, and the
soldier in mufti was often a back number.
Phyllis behind the footlights was quick in
discovering exactly how much moss had been
gathered by Abraham, and the attentions of
Isaac were soon derided when they became
unremitting. W^ar has changed all that. A
soldier, who is not honoured of Cox, could
sup with half a dozen of the major and the
minor constellations every night if the
champagne and the supper were to be found.
In the old days he was very lucky if he could
hand out Phyllis at the door of the Savoy
and find her table ready. He would have
gone there through a blaze of lights in the
streets and have read divers illuminated ad-
vertisements of pills worth a guinea a box.
These he could have pointed out to her for
lack of any other common topic of conversa-
tion, and possibly he would have declared
that she was worth very much more. In the
hotel itself, somebody might have danced
the Tango as a profession of Western civili-
sation, and a first-rate orchestra would have
grappled with the technicalities and the ab-
sorbing difficulties of that intricate score,
' You Made Me Love You.' It is true that
at half-past twelve the lights would have
played monkey tricks as an intimation to you
to 'get.' But you had only to move on a
street or two to find a night club where you
sat in a box and drank, or barged into other
people who had been sitting in boxes and
drinking. This was the very last word in
cosmopolitan debauchery. You might have
another word with the policeman outside if
you asked him whether it was Bond Street or
Thursday — but that was a minor affair. A
dinner, a rollicking show, brightly lighted
street, London awake all night, golf to-
morrow if you could see the ball, racing,
football, cricket — all gone into limbo, sir.
Do you wonder that I am proposing that we
should refill these glasses."
The Canadian offered no objection.
"Look here," he said, "are you really say-
ing that it wasn't until the year 1915 that
they took two reefs in the mainsail, so to
speak, and let you see their ankles?"
" It was not," replied the Cockney with a
scb in his voice.
"Then the war is all right," said the
Canadian, and he laid down two shillings
with the dexterity of a practised hand.
CAXADA IX KHAKI
Page 107
THE ASSISTED JOURNEY
"Thank Gawd fer that bit o' rest. Bill!"
Page 108
CANADA IN KHAKI
(A very dramatic sketch
THE SWORED
By H. SMALLEY SARSON
/
tPen
It may be acted without fee or iWence by anyone applying
for a commission.)
Time. — Three years, or the duration.
Place. — The ancestral home of young
subaltern, who, having been granted fourteen
days' leave for the purposes of buying kit
preparatory to leaving on draft, has just in-
%ested four pounds odd in a sword.
Curtain discovers Lieut. X. standing in
front of large mirror struggling with obstinate
buckles. Sings:
A Captain Courageous of sixty odd blades,
All ready to fight
By day or by night,
I leave every rival in love in the shades,
To fret and to fume
In perpetual gloom,
Whilst I steal the hearts of the prettiest maids.
Chorus.
O, I am a soldier exalted and fierce,
1 can parry in quatre, I can parry in tierce,
And leave every rival in love in the shades
As Captain Courageous of sixty odd blades.
Having extricated the weapon from between
his legs, Lieut. X. continues:
I can handle my man with the veriest ease,
A lightning twist
Of my elegant wrist —
So; I've skewered his heart and he drops to
his knees;
One moment to feel
The keen edge of my steel,
Then I sever him close to the waist, if you
please.
Chorus again with vigour.
My noble Excalibur clasped in my hand.
With vivre and aplomb,
With gun and with bomb,
Then I'll marshal my men; at the word of
command,
We'll scatter poor Fritz
To a million bits;
Or, point at his throat, on his carcass I'll
stand.
Sings final chorus, making violent lunges at
washstand.
O, I am a soldier exalted arid fierce,
I can parry in quatre, I can parry in tierce;
Whether one against fifty or leading in raids,
I'll be Captain Courageous of sixty odd
blades.
SCENE TWO.
Time. — Some two months later in
trench 321B.S.
Lieut. X. discovered groping at 2 c^ -in. in
two feet of water.
Lieut. X. : Where the . .
stick? We're due to go
minutes !
Slow curtain.
did I leave my
over in seven
1
"TRUMPS!"
By Frtderick Gamett
CAXADA /.V KIIAKI
Page 109
WITHIN THE SUBURBS OF LENS
Battered Shelter of water tanks
Peep of ruined Willerval
\{
In spite of desperate German resistance the Canadians pushed into Lens. Here are the
remains of a Boche barricade
Canadian Official Photographs
Page 110
CANADA IN KHAKI
THE MORE THE HUNS CALL ON THEIR "GOOD OLD GERMAN GOD"—
A church which the Germans pulverized beyond recognition. They still shell the ruins
Canadian Official Photographs
C'^.V.l^).! IX KHAKI
Pagi 111
—THE MORE THEY SHATTER THE HOUSES OF GOD OF OUR ALLIES
r
Desolation of Albert Cathedral
Not the Huns' fault the walls still stand
Pitiful is the wreck of this church whic'.i the Muns shelled viciously for months
Canadian Official Photographs
I'nnr 112
CANADA l.\ KHAKI
By Norah Schlcgel
"See here," said Winter, putting his arm around Mollie's waist, "this is where you quit.
You re not on in this act." "The Knight-Ereant itiom Saskatchewan.
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page 113
The knight-errant FROM
SASKATCHEWAN
A Short Story by DONOVAN BAYLEY
ttlastrated by Norah SchUgel
ONE of the most disturbing things about
the campaign of Destiny against the
little plans of men is its cat-footed ness.
Telefer Smaithe looked out of his window
at the highway up the hill past his house, and
saw a man in khaki coming slowly along,
stopping every now and then to admire the
vivid gorse on the common on each side of
the rambling road.
"This place is becoming crowded, Mollie,"
he said to his secretary. "As soon as I feel
I can work, that very moment when ideas
begin to come, my attention's distracted like
this ! This is the third time this morning it's
happened."
"What's the matter?"
"What's the matter? Look out, and you'll
see. Why doesn't the ass get on, instead of
fluttering about in front of my windows to
destroy my ability to work?"
The girl came to the window, and stood
beside him to see what was happening.
"He's not making a noise," she said, "so
why look at him? If you don't look outside,
you won't "
"If I don't look out! Mollie, you know
how much better I write when I turn my
eyes to the stimulating spaces. Just now the
editors want passionate love scenes. How
can I write passionate love scenes with that
man out there behaving like a weak-minded
moth ? "
He sagged back in his chair.
"I came to this place to be quiet. Every-
body told me it was quiet. Everybody — as
usual — lied."
He looked out of the window again.
"Oh, lord, he's sitting down I He'll be
here for hours."
"Don't think of him. Get on with the
story. You've broken off just when I was
all wrought up and excited. Do go on."
"How can I go on ? Look at him. Lying
on his back, waving his great feet in the air."
He sat up, put his hand under her elbow,
and pulled her down until she was sitting on
the arm of his chair.
"My head's tired— baffled," he said. "Let
me rest it. Tell me when that gambolling
crusader has gone. Watch for me, Mollie.
At least, I can rest."
As a matter of fact, the idea bag was nearly
empty to-day, and he was glad of an excuse
to postpone the remaining two thousand three
hundred words to finish the passionate love
story upon which he should have been busy.
There was silence for a while. Mollie
watched the distant soldier, and Telefer
Smaithe dozed, his head against her shoulder,
and all the lines on his forehead smoothed
out. He was one of those men who look best
asleep.
She sat thinking over all the stories she had
helped him to write, and wondering what the
end of this one would be. She liked the idea
of it, the originality that he managed to get
into it.
The real — though unconscious — reason for
her approval was that the plot was her own.
Telefer Smaithe, however, was very well
aware of it.
He got many ideas from her. Until she
had come to work for him he had been one
of the authors with about a dozen plots, who
make their living by dolling them up in turn
in fresh clothes. That is why he was in-
tensely afraid she would go, and leave him
back again in his rut.
"What's he doing now?" he asked
suddenly.
"Bowling big stones at a gorse bush. He
can throw well. He hits it every time."
"A schoolboy could do that."
"It looks to me as if he's practising
bombing." .
She got up, and Stood at the wmdow,
intere.sted. ,
" I would like to know how many men he s
killed. I wish I were a man."
"And if you were ?"
"I'd kill Germans. See! He's going now,
I think. Look at the decisive way he's light-
ing his pipe."
She was right. The pipe drawmg well,
he went, leaving the common, the highway,
and the whole world to the author.
"Now we can get on," she said merrily.
"If the writing mood hasn't gone. You've
no idea, Mollie, how devastatingly these
interruptions frustrate me."
"Authors should be hermits," she said
soothingly. "They should live in caves in
the mountains."
"Well, let's get to work," he said, newly
brightened and made cheerful, for his quick
brain had seen a practical setting for another
rustic love story, the tale of an author who
fled to the hills to get on uninterruptedly with
an overdue serial, and of the mountain maid
who discovered and commandeered him.
That was the way in which Mollie habitually
helped. That one remark meant, counting
British and American serial rights, at least
fifty pounds, and she was always dropping
such precious gems.
"We're rather lucky, you and I, Mollie,"
he said. "It isn't everybody in this crabbed
world able to work with someone so in sym-
pathy as you and I are with each other."
"I love the work, I love it. I think I
should go mad if I had to do dry business
letters."
He put his hand on her shoulder. "Well,
well," he said, "let's get on. Where were
we?"
She smiled at him happily, glad to be of
so much use to a man in his creative art. He,
for his part, had a difficult game to play.
He wished her to believe he cared for her,
but it was all policy on his part, for he was
too selfish to be really in love, and for the
CANADA IN KHAKI
next couple of hours he kept up the output of
modern English literature.
And ne.\t day the soldier was there again,
just as lonely and energetic. Telefer Smaithe
took one look at him, groaned, went down-
stairs, put on his hat, and fumed up the hill ;
nor did he come back until he was physically
too tired to work.
And, moreover, on the next day, which was
also fine, the soldier was there again ; and this
time he was at his most distracting, for he
made himself a fire and cooked by it.
Now, that is not done in England.
"This is becoming persecution," Telefer
Smaithe said.
" Persecution ? He's probably never heard
of you," said Mollie.
The author looked at her bleakly.
"Please," she said, "I'm awfully sorry; but
I don't suppose he knows he's annoying you."
"I want sympathy, Mollie, and you give
me logic."
Once more Telefer Smaithe departed for
the day. Besides, he had not worked out the
hermit story yet in all its details.
Mollie put her note-book away with a sigh,
thinking of two editors who were worrying
him for overdue manuscript. She peered at
the soldier from behind the curtain.
Then one of her brightest ideas glinted into
her mind. She went to the looking-glass,
preened her hair, thoughtfully pulled one —
only one — little piece of it across her cheek,
and happened on to the common.
Lured by her idea, she went straight up to
the soldier, intending to explain that a great
>yriter lived in the red house confronting him
— a great writer whose delicate thoughts were
shattered by these continued activities under
his study window.
The soldier, who had ideas of his own,
seeing that she was coming towards him,
stood up, saluted, and said :
"When I came to this morning I had a
hunch it was going to be my lucky day."
What was a girl to say to that? She stood
and looked at him.
"Say," he said, "do you warn rescuing
from an ogre, or is there a dragon of your
acquaintance would be better for a 'ittle
H.E.?"
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page 115
"A little H.E.?"
"That's what I said. H.E.— High Explo-
sive. Sit down right now, and tell me what
I can do for you."
"You can go right away," said MoUie,
"and never come back. You'd make me very
happy. I live in that house there."
She was a little confused. The man's eyes
were so very direct.
" Gee I Am I as fierce as that ? "
"You're not fierce; I didn't say you were
fierce."
"Then why in thunder "
"Oh, I can't explain. It isn't for my
sake-
For it had become apparent to her that she
could not ask this man to give up his enjoy-
ment of a public common for the sake of any-
body at all, even Telefer Smaithe.
"If you really mean' it," he said, "I'll quit,
and I'll stay quit."
"No, no, I didn't mean it."
"I see," he said; "you were just making
conversation. May I say it's a gift with you ?
Won't you sit down and hand me out some
more? It's sure the goods."
Mollie began to laugh. So did he. They
stood opposite to each other, laughing.
"Now we're getting on," he said. "But
we'd enjoy it much better if we sat
down."
She sat down with her back to a little bay
in the gorse bushes, and he lay strategically
at her feet.
"You're a Canadian ? " she said, for he had
not spoken again.
"You must be little Miss Guesser from
Guessville."
L
By W. F. Thomas
". . . And is it true that two shells never hit the same place twice?" "Never! "
" Er — curious ! How do you account for that ' " ,
"WelU if one ot our heavies hits a place once, there ainl any place for the sicoml lo hit 1 '
Pa^e lie
CANADA IN KHAKI
•'But it's written all over you in brass
letters."
"That's so as we won't be too modest to
own up where we come from. Now, say :
you came straight over to me to tell me some-
thing, and I was hoping you wanted me to be
of use some way. If there's anything at all I
can do, I will."
"Well, I did mean to tell you something,
but now, I'm afraid you'll be offended."
"Well, if you're afraid of offending me,
it's unperjured evidence that you don't want
to do it."
"Of course, I don't want to."
"Then you can say what you like, and I'll
keep as calm as a clam in a can of bromide."
"You see that window?" she said, point-
ing up the common to the house.
"Yes, I can see that window."
"Have you heard of Telefer Smaithe, the
author ? "
"I've even read some of his stories, and
still I wish him no harm. I'm a forgiving
By J inner
OflBcer (to Irish Tommy) : " But why are you
writing such a large hand, Murphy?"
Private Murphy : " Because me ould mother
is deaf, and when she reads it out loud she 4:an
hear it better."
man. My chums say it's my worst vice.
What about the window? Did one of his
readers throw him through it?"
"No," she said; "it's his study window,
and I work for him."
"I'm real sorry if I've offended you. For
those who like his sort of writing, he's a very
great author. I'm told he's a best seller.
This world is wonderful."
"What do you mean?"
"I was thinking of a wild night way back
in Canada, when it was blowing all of a bliz-
zard, and then a bit over, and I sat at the
red-hot stove, with icicles on the back of my
neck, in a railroad hut, reading one of his
stories."
"Yes?"
"I little thought the day was coming I'd
talk to anybody who knew him like you must."
"Oh, I see. Well, when he's working, the
least thing distracts him."
She stopped, and he waited.
"Don't you think," she went on, "that you
could have just as good a time on this com-
mon if you kept out of sight of that window ? "
"It's become part of my religion."
"Then that simplifies it tremendously.
Would you think it very impertinent of me
if I asked you to do so? I know anybody
may go anywhere on this common, but he
writes so beautifully. And you've put him
quite off work for the last three days."
" Does that make it any worse for you ? "
"I wasn't thinking of myself at all," she
said. "If it were for myself, I'd never have
spoken about it."
, "I beg your pardon. Of course you
wouldn't. Whereabouts do you think I
ought to put myself not to scare his muse?"
"Oh, it's awful of me ! " she said. "You've
come all this way to fight for England, and
then "
"I didn't. I came to fight for Canada, and
because I couldn't tolerate the Kaiser.
Where would i shock your man least ? "
She blushed.
"I shall never forgive myself. I oughtn't
to have asked you."
"But why not? It's a very little thing to
do. I didn't come over all the land and sea
between here and Saskatchewan to annoy
J
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page 117
Mr. Telefer Smailhe; and
now I'm here I don't pro-
pose to do it."
" Anywhere, where he
can't see you from the
window."
"Can he see us now ? "
"Oh, I hope not!"
• He smiled. "I'm quite
civilised."
"I didn't mean that. I
meant he'd be fearfully an-
noyed if he knew I'd asked
you."
"I guess you know him
better than I do," said the
Canadian. "Let's move
camp before I've hurt his
sensitive mind irrepar-
ably."
Wherefore, upon the
next day when Smaithe,
feeling that he ought to
work, looked out across the
common in search of a
reason why he should not,
he failed to find one.
"He won't worry you
again," said Moilie.
"Oh! How's that?"
She told him how she
had gone out, and had
pleaded with the Canadian
to efface himself.
"I wish you'd spoken to
me first," said the great
author. "Had you con-
suited me first "
"You'd have stopped me. I know. I didn't
want to be stopped, so I didn't tell you."
"I don't desire to preach. There's nothing
I hate more than preaching, as you know;
but if I were you, I wouldn't do that sort of
thing, Moilie. In nine cases out of ten it
may be all right; but it's the tenth that
counts."
"But I did it to make things more comfort-
able for you."
'I know that. It was very good of you.
But I'd rather have put up with any incon-
venience- "
By HUda Cowk»
"Were you born on an allotment, grandpa?"
"I don't think so; why?"
" Oh, cos Jackie Brown says you're a dug-out."
"Well, it's done now. We ought to be
able to get in a lot of work this morning."
He lay back in his chair and gave her
great deal of advice, pointing out how unwise
it is to trust oneself with unknown men, hov
ever gallant and brave. She listened de-
murely, but he saw that he had not convinced
her, felt that he was losing his hold upon her
to that extent, and allowed his mind to get
into a fussy condition. She, to her own
astonishment, discovered that she was amused
at him, and sat looking at the spot on the top
of his head where the hair was beginning to
become discouraged.
Page 118
At last he settled down to dictate the story
of the hermit. After lunch he went for a walk,
because he found, by sour experience, that
physical exercise was necessary to his brain.
Mollie settled down to type her shorthand
notes, and then, when that was done, took a
book into the garden.
" Everything cpmes to him who waits," said
a voice from nowhere. She looked about her
and saw no one.
" Don't be scared any. It's your little white
conscience talking."
"Where are you? "
"Where I belong. Right here, at your feet,
amongst the green truck."
She looked down then, and saw the face of
the Canadian smiling out at her from between
a couple of cabbages.
" What on earth are you doing there ? " she
asked.
"Keeping myself to myself, .to show I'm
learning English ways. Do you mind?"
"No, I suppose not, if you like it. You're
not doing any harm."
"Not any. I'm too old a scout for that.
Say, was that lad who went scudding past a
while back the Telefer Smaithe ? "
" Have you been here all that time ? "
"Longer than that."
"But why?"
" Because I wanted to see you. Now talk to
me. I shall get as morose as an Injun if
someone doesn't hand out some talk to me
soon."
"Well, come and sit down beside me like
a rational being," she said.
After all, soldier-men, particularly from the
Dominions, have privileges.
"No, thanks; I guess I'm better here. If
the great syllable mechanic happened back,
and found me lolling around, he'd want ex-
planations. I'm quite happy here, camou-
flaged among the savoys."
" For goodness' sake, come out 1 How can
I talk to a head in a cabbage-patch ? "
"Please don't make me," he said. "I'm
playing a game with myself, pretending that
vou're in the power of an ogre. I don't want
anyone to know of me, except you. Now tell
me all about the ogre, and I'll see best how to
rescue you."
CANADA IN KHAKI
"There isn't any ogre," she said.
"This is some fairy story," he answered.
"Not only is the maiden in the power of an
ogre, but she's enchanted too. It's up to me
to dissimulate. Maiden, let me admire all his
excellences."
"You're rather impossible," she answered.
"The want of reasonable conversation, per-
haps?"
"That's it," he confessed. "Talk to me
about how literature is manufactured these
days, and my parlour tricks will all come back
to me, glad to be home again."
"First, get up out of the cabbage-bed."
"What must be, must be, though the
ground's quite dry," he said, rising to his
feet, though he took great care not to be seen
from the house. She noticed that, and smiled.
"You're nothing but an overgrown boy.
Why did you hide like this?"
"Call it a play game, and let it go at that.
Now talk to me about yourself. It's seven
and a half centuries since I had any real talk
from a girl."
With that, they got on quite well together,
until Telefer Smaithe came in at the gate. For
a moment she wondered how she would ex-
plain the Canadian. Then: "Why shouldn't
I talk to him if I want to? " she thought. She
stood resolutely up to face the author, who
strode over to her.
"Sunning yourself?" he asked, dropping
one hand over hers on the back of the chair.
"I've been "
She looked round, and found that she was
alone with him. The Canadian had vanished
as soundlessly as would have faded tlie old
"Injun " who had taught him his scouting.
She did not see him again until the end of
the week, when Telefer Smaithe went to town
to interview editors, for he believed in the per-
sonal touch, and, by inference, in his own
charm. She took a book out on to the com-
mon, for she had nothing to do, looking sus-
piciously at the cabbages as she passed by
them, but no voice came from amongst them.
She went to a little patch of bracken, stretched
out among its cool, green fronds, and opened
her book.
Soon the voice came again, once more in-
visible.
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page 119
By S. Sfymour
"Come on, mine kamerads ! Ledt us encourage ourselves mit der conversation about der
mighty conquests of der Vaterland, until ve can get a shanst to bunck oudt und surrender to der
British."
%,
"I began to think you were ill," it said.
"Where's the pawing ogre, the monster who
keeps you on the treadmill ? "
She did not look up from her book.
"You mustn't talk like that," she said.
'He isn't a monster, and I love working for
•m. Nothing makes me happier."
The ferns parted, and he slipped through
them, until he was lying face to face with her.
"I guess he can't see me here," he said,
grinning like a boy.
"No, I suppose not. He's in London."
"Since you haven't asked me," said the
Canadian, "I'll tell you my secret. My
name's Billy Winter, and my home is Sas-
katchewan."
"You're quite wrong," she answered. " It's
Puck, and you live in a cavern under the hills.
That's why you come and go so mysteriously ."
"I'm sure exposed. Can you forgive, or are
you one of those hard, good women who'd
hunt a gnome into the never-never, because
he didn't carry visiting cards?"
"Who can banish Puck?"
"It's a difficult proposition. Now, tell me
what you do with yourself all day."
He made her talk about her "work, listening
analytically to all she had to say, and putting
innocent questions from time to time, until,
before she ' had finished, he had a clear
enough, and true enough, impression of the
exact position.
"She's on the way to falling in io\t with
that wordsmith," he thought; "and it won't
do. She'd fit my home like a coat of paint."
"Now tell me about yourself," she said.
"From the hrst day I saw you I've been
curious about one thing."
"And what is this thing?"
"How many Germans have you killed?"
Page 120
CANADA IN KHAKI
"I've never used a weapon in this war."
"Do you mean you haven't been in
Flanders yet ? "
"1 don't. I mean I'm an engineer. That's
my profession, and it seemed to me I'd be
more use where I belonged than in the
infantry."
"Ohi^ I see. What do you do ? "
"Make and repair all sorts of communica-
tions."
"Oh, you've been under fire, then?"
"Frequently, and liked it less each time."
" I begin to understand. You make bridges
and railways, and roads on the battlefield.
You must have been the means of killing
many Germans, indirectly."
"That's what I tell myself, when I'm down
in the mouth."
"You were wounded at the front, then?"
He nodded.
"It's my work in Canada that I like to think
about most. It's just as big a fight there, and
it's all to the good, unrolling railways in the
backwoods; and after me homes grow up,
with contented, happy people in them, and,
as I go up and down the line in the construc-
tion trains, I can see them. When God made
the world He saw that His work was good.
Well, that's how I feel, sometimes, at my real
work."
"But what you're doing in France is
splendid too."
"I sure wonder," he said. "Sometimes I
feel I'm asleep in a ghastly nightmare, but
"ve always got the notion that the morning's
certainly coming when I'll wake to a good,
clean job, pushing a bridge out over a white,
tumbling river, so that the wheat cars can roll
safely along the trestles, hundreds of feet up
over the roaring, broken water. Now, that's
man's work. Just that one bridge for a gate-
way into new lands as big as England. Then
we'll clear the timber, and let in the miles of
corn to help feed all the world. That's work
for a white man. Say, you're laughing at
me."
"No, I wasn't. I was interested."
"I don't often let off speeches," he said;
"but that work is all of me, and nothing else
I do matters. The world hasn't begun to get
a hint of what Canada's going to be. Well,
that's what I was at. And then this lop-sided
Kaiser creature, with his uniforms, and his
posturings, and his terrible earnestness about
himself, interfered. Do you wonder I can't
tolerate him ? Can you tell me what came
over Europe that it let him happen ? "
But that was a question that neither she nor
anyone else could answer.
When she met him again he brought her
photographs to see. He showed them to her
hesitatingly, unreasonably afraid that she
would find them dull, when they meant so
much to him, for they were records of things
he himself had done. He kept side-glancing
at her delicate profile as she bent her head
over them, like a nymph delightfully puzzled
by scale drawings.
"Look at that," he said, showing her a pic-
ture of a single track line running through
conifer forests. "Doesn't look much, does
it?"
"Perhaps not. What's the history of it?"
Her eyes dwelt on his face, reading behind
its level impassivity the spirit that had made
his life one great fight for mankind against
the sullen primitive.
"It's the highest bit of track I've ever laid,"
he said; "and it meant, amongst many other
things, eight bridges, and four hundred
charges of blasting powder to get it there.
Now, look at this."
And he showed her a clean, new town, with
a church and schools and a market place
and broad, level roads.
"I made that possible," he said. "Five
years back that was prairie. And now see
that."
"But that isn't Canada? That's a destroyed
town at the Front."
"Yes. That's the Kaiser's work. If you
were a man, which would you rather be? Me,
or the Kaiser?"
"Why, you I " The flush on her face and
the glow in her eyes showed him how little
doubt there was of that.
"And that's what keeps me a sane man in
this nightmare. See here."
He handed her a photograph of one of
the great, new graveyards "Somewhere in
France."
"That's the German Mountebank's work
t
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page 12''
r
too." He shuffled the prints and took out
another for her, showing ripening corn from
horizon to horizon. "And that's my work.
It's certainly odd when a plain man can weigh
himself against an Emperor, and find the
Emperor shucks in the balance. We're going
to get a new conception of manhood out of
this war."
"We've got it," she said. "Were you badly
wounded?"
"Not enough to hinder my real work. Does
it appeal to you ? "
"Tremendously," she said. "When do you
think you'll get back to it? "
"When Germany's whipped and yelping.
If they won't let me back to France, I can
sure be of some use over here, if it's only as a
mechanic in an aircraft shop. Whipping the
Kaiser's a rush job just now. I don't care
what I do, so long as I help that on. Then
we can get back to sanity. What are you
thinking of? "
"Oh, I don't know. Just thoughts." She
blushed.
Really, she was contrasting him with
Smaithe, and wondering why she had ever
thought that the "wordsmith," or his work,
mattered so vastly. She was in a new mood,
and not, perhaps, a very just one — at any rate,
as far as the necessity for his work was con-
cerned. Shakespeare, it might be argued, was
a bigger event than even this war. On the
other hand, Smaithe was not Shakespeare.
"You seem fond of this common," she said,
the next time he met her upon it.
"The doctors tell me that moderate exercise,
and all the open air there is, are good for me.
Besides, I met you here. Do you remember I
called you an enchanted maiden ? "
"Yes, I think I do. Why?"
"Oh, because that's how you looked to me.
That's all the why I know. You live here,
remote and lonely. I came, bored from the
spinal cord to the skin, not expecting to meet
a friendly soul, and, by the grace of God, I
happened on you, you who lived in another
world, familiar spirit to a wizard of make-
believe. It got into my bones that your word-
smith was a wizard."
She laughed.
"He's really an ordinary man," sh^ said,
"except that he writes splendidly. He cut
himself this morning when he was shaving,
and I'm sure a wizard wouldn't do that. He'd
draw a magic circle, say ' Hey, presto 1 ' and
his beard would be gone."
"I don't care," he said. "The house looks
as if it were inhabited by a wizard. Where's
he now ? "
"He's gone to London. He'll be away foi
the day."
"Will he? He'll sure get rattled, then."
"Oh I How's that?"
"One of the men on the gun told me as
I came along there was an air raid getting
up. In this haze, if it's got half the spunk
of a may-bug, it'll reach London."
"Oh, the odds are very much against his
getting hurt," she said. "He'll be all right.
By Litut. Howard Ptnton
Sentry (to Tommy who on his way up to
the front line is singing, " Garden of Eden just
made for two ") : " You're going the wrong way
for that, mate."
Page 124
CANADA IN KHAKI
He'll probably be in the Tube wheh it
happens."
"Yes; there's nothing much to worry
about. Would you be very sorry if he got
killed?"
"Naturally. I like him tremendously."
"Because he's himself, or because you
admire his work ? "
"Lately I've wondered about everything
connected with him," she said. "I think a
girl really admires most in a man the most
forceful kind of labour."
"Then you'd be tickled to death by some
of our gunners at the front," he said. "They
move slices of countryside wilh one blow.
Why wasn't I a gunner?"
"Malign fate, I suppose," she said, pre-
tending seriousness. "Is i< too late to
change ? "
" Yes, the tide in my affairs has passed the
lood, as far as this war is concerned. I shall
never be a gunner. I couldn't heave shells
bout now."
"Oh, I'm so sorry."
"Still, I made roads for the guns to move
• 'ong. That was something."
'I didn't mean that. I meant I was sorry
because of your wound."
"Say, you needn't be. If it hadn't been
for that I shouldn't have met you; and that
counts a whole heap with me. Hallo 1 "
"What?"
"Here's the wordsmith coming."
He 'shaded his eyes and watched him.
"He's about as happy as a polar bear in a
bakehouse. What's eating him ? "
Mollie stood at gaze, with her hand on her
bosom, breathing rapidly through parted lips.
"So-ohl Then you haven't told him you
know me?"
"No, I haven't. He knows I spoke to you
once, but "
"Kid, do you mean you're afraid of that? "
"No, I'm not afraid of him; but "
"By my mother's bones!" said Billy
Winter. "He'd better be careful, or he'll
get a whole heap handed out to him that he
can't carry."
Telefer Smaithe halted about twenty yards
from them.
"Mollie I" he shouted.
"You're stone deaf and otherwise occu-
pied," said Winter. "Can't he see you're
talking to someone ? "
She hesitated.
"That's it," he said quietly. "If he's got
to speak to you, let him come here. I don't
allow my friends to be shouted for."
"Mollie! "
"He's put his manners away in cold
storage. I'm not used to being interrupted
by somebody shouting across the landscape.
It doesn't go."
"I think I'd better go."
"You stay right here, dear. If that's how
he treats you, it's time he learnt where he
belongs in creation."
"I've never known him to be so rude
before," she said.
"And he won't know himself to be so rude
again," Winter snapped.
Telefer Smaithe, finding that she did not
reply, strode towards her, most evidently in
a very bad temper. Winter saw that she
trembled a little. She had reason. She had
a humorously grim man beside her, and an
excitable, angry man coming towards her.
"I returned home. They told me at the
station that the air-raid warning had been
given. I decided to come back and work."
"I see."
Her tone was as cold as his own, and he
instantly changed his manner, sensing that
it would not do this time, and half realising
why.
"May I offer you the shelter of my house
until this affair has blown over?" he said
to Winter. Then, without waiting for a
reply, he put his hand on the girl's shoulder.
"Mollie, you'd be safer "
What seemed like a mechanical claw
closed about his wrist and moved his arm
back to his side.
"That's where that belongs," said Winter,
with all the snows of the Northern trapping
country in his tone. "As to the raid, it's
been driven. back, or we should have heard
it by now."
"Who are you?" Smaithe aslced.
"I'm a real stranger to you."
"Oh! Well, whoever you are, you ougb*
to know better than to behave as you're
: AN AD A IN KHAKI
Page 125
THE ROSli AND THE MAPLE LEAF
By Fred Fegram
Page 126
CANADA IN KHAKI
doing. Mollie, where did you meet this
man ? "
".She met me right here, where we're stand-
ing now, and it's all of a pretty place. You're
her employer, aren't you?"
"And her friend too."
"You don't say I Tell me, does that make
you her chaperon ? "
"You see the sort of person he really is,
Mollie."
"She's had many opportunities of seeing
that," said Winter, "and I think she's formed
her judgment. What I'm asking you is
this : Do you claim to choose her friends for
her because you've hired her to type your
love-mongering output?"
"Really, I don't "
"Do you, or don't you, claim that?"
Telefer Smaithe turned to Mollie.
"This is becoming impossible," he said.
"Surely, when you know I want you, you're
not hesitating whether to send him about his
business or not, are you ? "
Mollie's head went up, and Winter saw it.
He caught her eye.
"Mollie, you must choose now," said
Telefer Smaithe, turning on the deep notes
to show he was moved. "It's come to that.
Do you prefer this man, this stranger, to
me ? "
She did not answer. She resented his
putting it upon such a basis. The Canadian,
for the first time during the interview, smiled
— a broad, humorous smile that was more
chilling, more enervating to Smaithe than the
grimmest scowl could have been.
"See here," said Winter, putting his hand
upon Mollie's shoulder, "this is where you
quit. You're not on in this act."
And the arm slid about her waist.
A CANADIAN
By JESSIE POPE
Calm-eved, well-seasoned to endure,
Straight as a sapling, not too tall,
He is the lad who answered, "Sure I "
When England gave a call.
Gay, but heroic to the end,
Fierce and unshaken in a "show,"
Loyal and solid as a friend,
A relentless foe.
Easy in manner, self-contained.
Quick-witted, picturesque of speech ;
By risk or danger unrestrained,
Gripping his share of each.
Taking his turn at many parts,
A soldier and a man complete —
He is the lad who warms our hearts
And freezes Fritz's feet.
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page 129
By G. S. DixoH
Affable British Tommy: "Changeable weather you get here!"
Canuck : " Changeable, do you call it ! If it only was, you bet we'd have changed it long ago."
THE CHUMP'S IDEA
By EDWIN PUGH
I DON'T think much of this war," said the
Chump.
We call him the Chump because his name
— beginning with Cholmondeley and ending
with Higgins — is far too gorgeous for every-
day wear and tear. He is a sunny-faced,
bright-eyed lad of thirteen or so, and I am
one of his favourite uncles.
"That so?" said I. "Well, I don't know
whether I'm sorry or glad to hear that you
disapprove of this little European fuss we've
got mixed up in. At the same time I must
confess that I am curious to know why you
do."
"It's so muddly," said he. "So slow and
monotonous. So deadly dull. It wants gin-
gering up. A bit of excitement. If only "
He paused.
"If only what?" I prompted him.
"If only it were a cricket-match," said he.
"On the lines of England v. Australia, say,
with a thrill in every minute of it, and a
Page 130
CANADA IN KHAKI
definite finish to look forward to before you
were dead. England v. Germany, or The
Allies V. The Central Powers, with picked
sides and a shilling gate, and so on."
"But that wouldn't be fair," I objected.
" England, with her Colonies, and America
and India thrown in, have practically a
monopoly of cricket. The Central Powers
wouldn't stand an outside chance. And,
besides, what would our Allies be doing?
Neither France, Italy, Russia, Belgium,
Rumania, Serbia, Portugal, Japan, nor any
other country on our side plays cricket to any
extent that I am aware of. You must think
of something else, Chump."
"Ah, you're so beastly literal," said he.
"I mentioned cricket merely because it came
first to my mind. But it needn't be only
cricket. We could have a regular Inter-
national Sports Carnival. Sort of Olympian
Games, don't you know, like we had some
years ago, only on a far larger scale. Do you
follow me ? "
"To the final goal," said I.
"Yes, of course,, there'd be football," he
rejoined. "Surely the Germans or the Hun-
garians or somebody play a sort of football ?
And even if they didn't it would be up to
them to learn it, so as to be ready for the next
rumpus, just as it would be up to us to train
some of our wrestlers against those Terrible
Turks and chaps. And, to pass from great
things to small, there are games like chess
and coddam, and dominoes and spellicans.
We'd have to hold our own in those as well.
And noughts and crosses. For all you know,
the Bulgars may be frightful swells at
noughts and crosses."
"It's quite possible, quite possible," I ad-
mitted. "Indeed, your idea simply bristles
with possibilities."
"Yes, and I've only given you hints of it
up to now," said the Chump. "If I went into
details — if I laid the whole scheme before
you- "
"I wish you would."
"If you really mean that, I will. At any
rate, I'll do my rotten best."
I signified my gratification in the usual
way. For some seconds there was silence
whilst the Chump brooded heavily.
"I don't want anybody to think I'm try-
ing to be funny," he said, "or guying the
war in any way. I know it's jolly serious,
and all that. That's why — in the words of
the guv'nor — I say once for all : Don't let it
occur again. I want everybody to understand
that next time there's an international row
there needn't be any slaughter. When this
war is over and peace is declared, let every-
body agree on a general disarmament. By
all means let us go on raising armies, but let
them be armies of sportsmen. Every country
must have some sport it's good at. Even
Germany. What's that cheek-slashing game
their students go in for, for instance ? "
"I forget the name of it," I replied. "But
I should say that's a bit too Kultured "
"Yes, perhaps we ought to bar that. Still,
there used to be a German Gym. in London
once upon a time, and they couldn't all have
been duds there. So they must be dabs at
something — if it's only sitting on a patent
walking-stick and shooting pigs. However,
we won't go into minUtias. We'd all have to
have some sport of some kind — or go out. I
didn't mean to mention it again, but — there's
cricket, to begin with. We thought we British
could whack the world at that — until India
gave us Ranji. And boxing, which I under-
stand the ancient Greeks invented and the
Romans improved upon, until somehow it
drifted to England, and for centuries we were
the absolute topnotchers at it. Other nations
we despised — niggers and trash of that sort —
and especially Frenchmen. Until France
went crazy over the game, and in less than
no time raised a champion who knocked our
own champion out, not by a fluke, but twice
running, and each time giving away tons of
weight. So you see, uncle, if every nation
took up every kind of sport played by every
other nation in the world, and practised it
and trained for it, tliere wouldn't be any un-
fairness, after all, when the next war broke
out."
"Your idea, then ?"
"I am just coming to it. We'll say war is
declared. Very well. There's a general
pow-wow between the heads of all the nations
that can't somehow hit it any longer. They
draw up a programme. Each one puts down
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page 131
BAD BILL OF LAME DOG GULGH-
Thought there was nothing in the world to equal his six-shooter
t
-Till he found something better.
By H. M. Batfmm.
Page 132
CANADA IX KHAKI
the games that his fellow-countrymen excel
in. It would be a long list, and it would
take a long time to get through all the items.
But not so long as this war is taking. And it
wouldn't cost a farthing either, because the
gates would eas,ily pay for the expenses. And
nobody would be killed, though a few might
get knocked about a bit. And the excite-
ment I Just imagine the excitement, if you
can. Almost every five minutes there would
be the ' Latest Results ' for the papers to
publish. Every day the points would fluc-
tuate, just as they do even now in the football
tables. There'd be disputes and arguments
and bets, and all manner of fun. And always
something to talk about, and always some-
thing to buck you up instead of giving you
the pip. You'd always be counting points,
and working out the figures to the last recur-
ring decimal. Now England, would be on
top, now Canada, now France, now Bonnie
Scotland, now Italy, now Japan, now Sal-
vador on a foul, now England again, now
Italy, and then some wild outsider like Cam-
bodia might butt in. And, I suppose, Ger-
many and Austria and Turkey and Bulgaria
would be pegging away all the time, and, if
they never topped the list, be always spoiling
other nations' chances.
"And when the last game v^-as played, the
last goal kicked, the last wicket taken, the
last Himalaya climbed, and the first of ten
thousand Channel swimmers safely landed,
then we could tot up all the totals and find
out just where we all were. And there
wouldn't be any win, tie, or wrangle about it.
There wouldn't be any bad blood. We'd all
have scored at something or other. We'd
all have our victories to balance our defeats.
We shouldn't have wasted thousands of
millions of pounds, not to speak of lives.
We'd all have liad a clinking good time, we'd
all be better friends, and keen for another war
so as to get our own back."
"And you think that would settle all our
racial, economic and political differences,
our trade disputes, and the rest of it,
Chump?"
Chump laughed me to scorn. "By the time
the crowd had done clapping," said he,
"there wouldn't be any of that silly rot left to
settle."
THE CANADIAN ALPHABET
A
is
B
is
C
is
D
is
E
is
F
is
G
is
H
1
is
I
is
J
is
for the Army we're with Overseas; K
for the Boys just as busy as bees; L
for the Corps commanded by Currie; M
for the Deutschers coming in in a N
hurry; O
for Old England; we mean to see P
through ; Q
for the Frenchies who speak "Paries- R
vous " ;
for the Guns; how we love their old S
barks ! X
Headquarters, which won't stand no U
larks. V
for Intelligence, up to Boche tricks; W
for the "Junk" that sometimes we X
nicks : Z
s for the Kamerad, too full of love;
is for the Lorries we have to help shove ;
s for the Mud of most evil repute ;
s for the N.C.O., none dare dispute;
is for Officers — wish 'em good luck I
s for Plugstreet and Pill-box and Pluck;
s for "Quarters" housewife in the Field;
is for Rupprecht, whose fancy troops
yield;
is for Srniles, which will never come off;
s for the Tanks, to which we caps doff;
is for U and the Maid and Occasion ;
for Vaterland, marked for invasion ;
s for Wilhelm, the Kaiser so gory ;
doesn't count; Y is Wypers and Glory;
(thank the Lord I) is the end of my story.
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page 133
By Alfred Leete
Canadian Tommy (bringing in well-fed prisoner) : "Look 'ere. Bill, I believe I've copped
the Boche Food Controller"
Page 134
CANADA IN KHAKI
The Cat: "Thank 'evins I was born in the Isle of Man!'
By W. Ileafh Robinson
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page 136
' I cannot be happy here — not even with you."
By H. J. Mawat
EVERYTHING OR NOTHING!
A Complete Story
By EDWARD CECIL
Illustrated bg H. J. Mobiat
PEACE had come suddenly. There had
been hints that it was coming in Mon-
day's morning papers, broader hints in the
evening papers of that day. The same sort
of thing on Tuesday. On Wednesday the
French papers were reported to have definitely
stated that Peace was only a
matter of hours. On Wednesday
night the evening papers sold in
hundreds of thousands.
The first indication to Lon-
doners that the rumours really
were true was that sudden reap-
pearance of the placards. The
Star and the Evening Neivs both
threw official regulations to the
winds with their Noon Edition,
and the rest of the evening papers,
with the exception of the West-
minster Gazette, followed suit.
7—11
"I really think there must be something in
it," was a remark made by thousands of
Londoners that night when they reached their
suburban homes. "The placards have come
out again."
The next morning, Thursday, a curt official
announcement appeared in all the
morning papers. An armistice
had been signed, practically
simultaneously, on all the fronts.
It was now Friday night. Save
for, perhaps, a few solitary shep-
herds in the Highlands, some
isolated dwellers in very remote
parts of the West of Ireland, a
few fishermen still at sea, every-
one now knew that Peace had
come.
Who can describe the joy, the
wonder, the amazement, the
Edward Cecil.
Pape 136
CANADA IN KHAKI
excitement, which welcomed this sudden and
wellnigh unbelievable news? In Cannon
Town, that district of mean streets, ware-
houses and. factories at the foot of the hill on
which the suburb was built, people wellnigh
lost their heads.
Here and there a woman's heart ached for
a man whose body lay somewhere in France,
but whose spirit lived, and always would
live, somewhere in England; here and there
a mother's heart was glad because her son's
life would be standing no longer in jeopardy
every hour. And sober men and sober women
were thankful silently, in house after house,
in street after street, because now, at long last.
Victory had been won.
There was a general feeling of mutual good
will. It was not Christmas time, but a sort of
immensely magnified Christmas feeling per-
meated the minds of all.
In the suburb there was the same sort of
thing differently expres^d, with this differ-
ence— people were much more self-conscious.
In the suburb people did not let themselves
go. They could not have sung or shouted in
the streets had they tried. They sedately
talked to each other in the terms of the news-
paper articles they had read that eventful
Friday morning. It is astonishing how many
people there are who, though they often allow
themselves to be wholly miserable, never per-
mit themselves to be wholly glad.
We will now pass from the general to the
particular, and enter the home of Edward
Draycott, Esq., East Indian Merchant, of
Leadenhall Street, E.C., in the City of
LondoHi and 26, Bessborough Gardens, in
tlie suburb which looked down on Cannon
Town, on the night of the day after the day
on which the Great War ceased.
"Pass the port, dad."
Jack Draycott was expected to say some-
thing, and that was all he said.
For the first time since his return home from
Canada to fight in the War reference had
been made to the reason why he had ever gone
to Canada. And his answer to the very
pointed opening was : " Pass the port, dad,"
and for the rest — silence.
Jack Draycott had a clear-cut face and a
determined mouth. Despite the strength of
his face, however, his father considered him
weak. It sometimes happens that the
squarest-jawed man is a weak fool, but it also
sometimes happens that strong will gains for
its possessor the furious attacks of those who
are not themselves strong-willed. And one
of the stones of abuse thrown by the weak
man is to allege weakness in his superior.
We are always ready to accuse others of the
faults we have ourselves. It is the easiest
short cut in abuse imaginable.
Now, Jack Draycott and his father held
widely different opinions on many things.
Each thought the other weak. But Jack Dray-
cott never said he thought his father a weak
man, though, in his heart of hearts, he did.
On the contrary, Edward Draycott had fre-
quently expressed the opinion, first of all that
Canada would "strengthen Jack's character,"
and latterly that the War would. Edward
Draycott belonged to that type of man who
reckons himself to be strong for no better
reason than because he feels himself to be
strongly entrenched in a strong position.
"It's kill or cure," had been Mrs. Dray-
cott's comment, made with wifely resignation,
when Jack had been sent out to Canada. She
had been brought up to accept her husband's
ruling in all things. Jack was her favourite
son, however, and in her opinion there was
not much fault in his character to cure. She
used the same words, "It's kill or cure,"
when her husband talked pompously about
the strengthening process on a man's char-
acter worked by fighting in Flanders. But
she then used them bitterly. As he was now
sitting at his father's dinner-table on the
evening of the day after Peace had come,
the two great experiences of life — Canada and
the War — had not killed Jack. Had they
"cured" him? Mrs. Draycott's own private
opinion was that her dear old boy remained
just exactly the "same as ever."
And now, almost the very minute the War
was over — when he might have observed a
decent interval before reviving topics decently
buried during the War — her dear, respectable
husband had opened up the past.
"Did you say you could hear the shouting
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page 137
in Cannon Town up
here, Herbert?" he
asked. "I'm afraid
there will be a good
deal of drinking down
there. The public-houses
ought to be shut till
things are normal again.
Peace celebrations will
become an orgy — of
drinking."
And he had looked
straight at Jack, and
Jack had looked straight
back at him. The young
man's answer, his
straight look unwaver-
ing, his lips curling in a
smile, had been deadly.
"Pass the port, dad."
Reluctantly and with-
out comment Edward
Draycott had passed it.
Jack had been sent out
to Canada because he had
been too fond of Cannon
Town, even to the extent
of falling in love with a
remarkably pretty girl
whose home was in one
of the mean streets of that
infamous district so
despised by the suburb;
and finally, supremely, in-
evitably and irrevocably,
because on one never-to-
be-forgotten night he had
come home drunk.
"Why, neither I nor
your brother Herbert
have ever been drunk in our lives 1 " ex-
claimed the outraged Edward Draycott that
memorable night. It may be mentioned that
Edward Draycott was vicar's churchwarden
at the suburb's parish church. Jack Draycott
never went to church at all unless expressly
asked by his mother to do so.
"I am not — incapable," the poor boy had
protested.
"No; but you are drunk."
" I am nOT — speechless."
By Hilda Cowham
CAMOUFLAGE
"Now, then, children, what's this animal?"
" Please, teacher, it's a horse wot's put on a bathing suit to
deceive the Germans."
"It would be as well if you were," said
Draycott, who was stupidly cross as well as
outraged. He had been kept up late
"Besides, don't argue with me."
So Jack had been sent out to Canada. He
had made "some sort of a start out there."
He had come back to the Old World to fight
its battles, to make the New World secure.
He had twice been wounded, once near
Ypres and once in the great battle for Lille,
and now on the day after Peace, he was sitting
Pane 138
at his father's dinner-table drinking his
second glass of port.
Facing him was his brother, Captain
Herbert Draycott, who was always what he
ought to be, and who, in his military career,
had never made a mistake, and had come
through the War without a scratch. Facing
his father sat his mother, who, knowing what
Edward Draycott had it in his mind to say,
had decided at the Peace Dinner to be "one
of the men."
"Thank you, dad," said Jack, and. poured
himself out half a glass.
Draycott smiled. Jack smiled also. The
one reflected that his Bon knew what he was
doing. The other reflected that his father
might as well be reminded that his son was a
man and not a boy.
By W. F. Thomis
" Sure, an' Oi've got the vurry horse for ye ;
come round an' see him, sorr. He's the vurry
patthern ye wannt — that is, if yer honour doesn't
object to a ' green ' 'un."
" Oh, not at all, thanks. I don't mind about
the colour."
CANADA IN KHAKI
" 1 quite agree with you, father," said Cap-
tain Herbert Draycott. "The public-houses
ought to be shut."
"Oh, let the people have their fling," said
Jack carelessly. "They have waited long
enough for it."
"I don't think you have ever realised.
Jack," said his father, "that it is not always
wise to let the people have what — for the
moment — they want."
"Wisdom depends on the point of view,"
returned Jack quietly. "Yours or theirs."
He was evidently able to hold his own. He
knew, of course, that he was one against two.
That stiffened him.
"The best of us," observed the self-satisfied
Herbert, "have to think for those who are
not able to think for themselves."
Herbert Draycott had some reason to be
satisfied with himself. He had been taken
into his father's business before the War broke
out. In the first glory of his khaki and his
commission he had married the prettiest girl
in Bessborough Gardens, who was now not
present with them for the satisfactory reason
that she was now about to become a mother
for the second time. He had come through
the War without distinction, but without mis-
hap, and he was on the point of returning
very comfortably to the profitable occu-
pation of understudying his father in the
old established business, Edward Draycott
and Son.
"You are not qualified to express an
opinion, Herbert," said Jack quite amiably.
"A man who has come through the War with-
out spoiling the polish on his boots knows
precious little about what people are thinking.
It sometimes does people good to get what
they want. They can then see for themselves
whether it is really worth. having."
"Well, we've all got what we want," said
Mrs. Draycott hastily. "We all wanted Peace;
and we've got it."
She looked straight into her husband's face,
and, slightly frowning, nodded to him to
speak. He took the hint.
"On this auspicious occasion," said Edward
Dravcott, " when the War is at last over, and
both you boys are safe ... I have some-
thing to say."
C AX. ADA /.V KHAKI
Page 1^9
THE BASHFUL BATHER
'I wish she'd go away, Bert. What's the French for 'shoo'?'
By A. E. Hon*
He cleared his throat. He had prepared
what he intended saying — to the very words.
Mrs. Draycott smiled and nodded. She
knew what was coming, and she very much
approved. Jack felt an inclination to give
an encouraging "Hear, hear I " It was so
like the first pause in a speech. But he
checked his inclination. Herbert smiled.
"We have much to be thankful for," went
on Edward Draycott. "I hope we are . . .
thankful ! I am. I propose to celebrate
Peace in my own way. I will come at once
to the point. I shall be glad, Jack, if you
will come into the business. I intend alter-
ing the title of it from ' Edward Draycott and
Son ' to ' Edward Draycott and Sons.' "
He beamed, and Mrs. Draycott beamed,
and Herbert Draycott stretched out his hand
across the table. Jack shook it. He could
not do anything else. But there was a lack
of warmth in the grip, and, ever so slightly
but perceptibly, Herbert felt he was
snubbed. Then all three of them looked at
Jack and waited. And suddenly all three of
them became aware that something was
going to happen.
Jack sat back in his chair, his face serious.
"I am grateful to you, dad, but I wish
you had consulted me before making this
sort of public announcement."
"You don't mean to say . . ." exclaimed
Edward Draycott, speaking naturally in his
sheer amazement.
Jack raised his hand. He commanded the
situation.
"I suppose what you say means that you
have forgiven me — for not being respectable
in the past, and that you count on my being
respectable in the future. . . ."
"Jack, dear, the past is dead and buried.
Why, the War wiped it out I " Mrs Dray-
cott interrupted hurriedly.
Page 140
"Dearest mother, I don't want to pain
you, but are you so sure of that? I'm not.
I don't think the War has altered the pater,
here, in the very least."
"The War has had a marked effect on all
of us," said Edward Draycott, sheltering
himself behind a generality. Herbert mut-
tered something about "bad taste." Mrs.
Draycott was frightened.
"But if dad means that he has really for-
given me— I'm glad. About going into the
business, let's talk about that to-morrow."
"I should not take you into the business
if I had not forgiven you. . . ."
"There was nothing really to forgive.
Besides, you've fought in the War. . . ."
Husband and wife both spoke at once.
Jack said nothing.
"Perhaps Jack does not want to come into
the business," Herbert suggested quietly.
"You've hit it," said Jack. The sharp
sentence came like the crack of a whip. "I
don't."
"Jackl" exclaimed Mrs. Draycott, horri-
fied.
Edward Draycott opened his mouth to
speak, but could not think of the right words.
Then he sighed and poured himself out
another glass of port.
Captain Herbert Draycott shrugged his
shoulders. One ''can always shrug one's
shoulders when one does not know what to
say.
Mother and son were alone in the drawing-
room ; father and son had gone into the little
room which was dignified by being called
the library.
"Jack, dear, why are you bent on annoy-
ing your father? "
Mrs. Draycott sighed. Life was not alto-
gether easy for her.
"I'm not bent on annoying my father.
But he and I have such different outlooks on
life."
"But he is your father. You should try
to agree with him."
" How can I ? He sent me out to Canada,
in disgrace. He made, as I now see, quite
an absurd fuss over nothing. Well, I got
CANADA IN KHAKI
to like Canada. I intend doing quite well
out there. To put it in a nutshell, my future
lies in Canada. That's why I do not want
to go into the business."
"But, Jack, it's a good thing for you — to
go into the business. Herbert has taken to it
splendidly."
" It suits him ; it would not suit me."
"Why wouldn't it suit you?"
"An office all day long— to be taught by
my father and patronised by Herbert — to
wear a black coat and a silk hat — to have a
nice little home like Herbert's and take ray
views of life from a nice morning paper as he
and the pater do. Mother mine, it wouldn't
work."
"You would settle down to it sooner than
you think. Jack."
"But I don't want to settle down to it!"
He stood there, a fine stalwart man, and
suddenly he felt sorry for his mother, of
whom he was very fond. She had always
been so dominated by her husband and his
respectability. She had never had a fair
chance. And he could not tell her so !
There was an awkward silence between
them.
"Let me put it this way, mother," he said
at last. The War has made a difference.
We've got to hack out a new world — new
ideas, new everything. Some people, however,
like father, think it's just the same old world,
same old ideas, same old everything. Her-
bert's that type. He's quite content with the
world as it was before the War. How could
he and I and the pater ever work together ? "
What a boy he was still I How impul-
sive, how enthusiastic ! She loved him for
being so. He was like what she herself had
once been, just as Herbert was like his
father.
" And you like Canada ? " she questioned.
"I love Canada."
- He said this quite seriously.
"And you also love Muriel Hetherington ?"
She smiled. And behind her smile lay her
hope.
"Yei. It's well known that I do."
"And what does she say?"
" You also know that. She has said she will
not be engaged to anyone till after the War."
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page 141
" Well, it's ' after the War ' now."
"I know. I hope to marry her."
"On what?"
"I shall make a place for her in the world."
"In Canada?"
"Yes — in Canada."
" Is she content ? "
"She doesn't think me serious. But I shall
convince her."
"Jack, sit down, I've something to tell
you."
"If it's about Muriel, and it's unpleasant,
I prefer to take it standing up."
"It need not be unpleasant. Your father
and I have talked to Mr. and Mrs. Hethering-
ton about you and Muriel. They will consent
to her being engaged to you if you settle down
in the business. Otherwise she must stop
seeing you. That is one reason why your
father consents to taking you in. I persuaded
him."
"When did this happen?"
"Last Tuesday."
"And does Muriel know?"
"Probably she does by now."
"Exactly. I'll go and see her at once."
Mrs. Draycott got up. She put her hands
on her son's shoulders.
"Jack, dear, it's late; it's nearly ten o'clock.
Won't you think things over? But I do want
you to be happy."
"So do I, mother, and I mean to be happy."
He kissed her and went.
When Edward Draycott and Herbert
came into the room they found he was not
there.
"Where's Jack?" Herbert asked.
"He has gone over to see Muriel Hether-
ington," his mother answered.
"A bit late, isn't it?" remarked Edward
Draycott. "Where's the Times?"
"Never too late for lovers," said Herbert
Steve: "What price the old lady, Jock?'
Steve : " But what price the young 'un ? "
Jock : " Pretty awfu' '
Jock : " Awfu* pretty
By Tom CottrM
Page 148
CANADA !N KHAKI
"Lemme see, you don't like ends, Percival, do you?"
"Well" (cuts cake in two), "me and Bill does."
•• M«,., "
Naw.'
lightly. "I must go now, or Ethel will be
wondering what has happened to me."
"Give her my love," said Mrs. Draycott.
Presently Edward Draycott and his wife
were sitting together — the one reading his
Times, the other nodding over a novel. Only
once did they speak.
" Do you think she'll persuade him ? "
asked Jack's mother.
"I expect so," said Draycott. "The
Hetheringtons have brought up their daughter
very well, and Jack seems to be fond of
her."
The Hetheringtons lived on the other side
of the suburb, but Jack Draycott, with long.
easy strides, made light of the distance. He
heard sounds of street singing and shouting
coming up from Cannon Town, and he
noticed the new glare in the sky — London,
lights up ! Peace — ^and a day or two ago it
had still been War I
Well, Peace has her battles, just the same
as War.
He had his battle. He went straight to it.
By great good luck he found Muriel
alone.
" I nearly telephoned for you ! " she ex-
claimed, after he had kissed her, "when I
found father and mother were going out."
"Why didn't you quite?"
"I heard you were having a family Peace
dinner. I thought perhaps you might walk
CANADA IN KHAKI
Pace 1-^3
over afterwards — of your own accord. You
liave. I'm glad."
He kissed her again.*
"I'm glad to find you alone," he said. "I've
something important to say. I'll say it at
once."
Of course, she guessed what he was go-
ing to say. She was a fine-looking, open-
air girl, and she was -very fond of Jack
Draycott.
"Well, say it," she commanded. She was
very happy.
"I will. You said you would not be en-
gaged to anyone till the War was over, not
even to me. Well, the War is over. May I
take it that our engagement now begins?"
Her eyelids fluttered. Then she looked up
bravely.
"You may," she said.
He kissed her for the third time, and then
commanded her to sit down.
"And now," he said, "for what I have come
to say."
"Why!" she exclaimed. "I thought you
had said it 1 "
"No. I wish I had. But it's soon said. I
understand that your father and mother have
seen my father and mother, and that they
have said that they will consent to your
being engaged to me if my father takes me
into his business. Well, to-night he has
offered to do so, and I have refused the
offer."
"Jack!"
"I have refused to go into my father's
business."
"Meaning losing me ! "
"I did not know at the time. But even now
that I do know, I still refuse. I am going
back to Canada."
She looked at him, frightened.
"And what am I going to do?"
"Coming out to Canada with me."
"They would never let me."
" They have nothing to do with it. You
and I have everything to do with it. Nobody
else has anything to do with it. I am go-
ing back to Canada because my future
lies in Canada. Will you share it with me?
I can promise you it will be worth your
while."
"But, Jack, why go out to Canada to be
happy when we can be happy here ? "
" I cannot be happy here — not even with
you."
She pouted. She had the little tricks of a
well-brought-up girl. But Jack Draycott
knew she was something better — or thought
he did. He loved her.
"Listen, Muriel. I was sent out to Canada
in disgrace. An absurd thing to do, I admit;
but my father did it. Now you know all the
story, because I've told you. Well, when I
first got out there they laughed at me. They
said I was one of the No-goods at home, how
could I expect to be one of the Some-goods
out there? I didn't argue. I was never a
No-good here. I was soon a Some-good out
there. Up in the fur country, I've an open-
ing. I'm going back to it."
"They will never let me go," she said piti-
fully. She was near tears.
"Don't ask them. I don't ask them for
you. I ask you — for yourself."
"They will never let me go."
"Muriel — if you say that again I shall go
without you. I mean it. It is you and me —
not your parents and my parents. That sort
of thing belonged to the old world, before the
War. It is now the new world, after the War.
I want you. I want no other woman in the
world but you; but from you I want every-
thing or nothing."
He was putting her roughly to the test, but
he knew it had to be done.
She sat silent.
"It will be a rough life, perhaps, at first.
But you will be quite safe with me. It will
be a grand life, my life out there, a free life ;
no chufch-going every Sunday morning,
no At-Home day once a month, no heeding
what other people do, and thinking that to be
right which others tell you to be right — a free
life instead of a fettered life — a life for you,
lived with me — giving me what I ask, just
what I give you — everything or nothing If
I give you everything, dearest, my life into
your hands, will you give me everything,
your life into mine?"
She still sat silent.
"You want time to think?" he asked.
"Take as long as you like."
Page 144
CANADA IN KHAKI
"You are quite decided that you are going
back to Canada ? "
"Quite."
"Because you like Canada?"
"Yes."
"You want me to come straight out with
you?"
"Yes."
"And the life which is good enough for
your brother Herbert is not good enough for
you ? "
"No, Muriel, it is not."
"Neither would it be good enough for me."
"My Queen!"
"It is with me as it is with you — everything
or nothing. If you want to go back to Canada
and you want me, I will come. As you say,
it is simply you and I who are concerned —
no one else at all."
"I always knew you would stand by
me.
He was triumphant.
"I will try to be good enough — all through.
But if ever I am weak, help me to be as brave
as you are."
"It is a miracle — love like mine and love
like yours coming together."
He took her in his arms and kissed her
again and again. Not merely the pretty out-
side, which is all many ever know, and which
soon gets soiled and worn ; but the very heart
of Love was theirs.
Cheerful Reinforcement : " Why do they
call this junk ' Bully ' ? "
Dyspeptic : "Because it ain't."
*fSiGomi
mM^^^mammMs^^mmSt^^^^^^
By Tom ColtreU
Fond Granny: "What is it. Cherub; can I help you?"
The " Cherub " : " Yes, Granny ; get down on your hands and knees — I want to draw a tank."
CANADA l.\ KHAKI
Pa^e 141
By H. P. Jcnntr
Photographer : " Of course, sir, you can hassume any expression you please, but I might
mention that at the present moment the fashionable thing among the hupper classes is to look
'ungry."
THE POP-GUN PATRIOT
By LEONARD CROCOMBE
THE guard's whistle shrilled. I heard a
hoarse "Stand away, there, sir!" Then
the door of the compartment was flung open
and a little, fat, round man flopped in.
He perched on the edge of the seat like
a perky cock sparrow, and mopped the
shining pinkness of his bald forehead with a
large handkerchief. Then he rearranged his
tie, brushed his coat-sleeve over his silk hat,
flicked a speck of dust from a white spat, and
settled his pince-nez almost on the tip of his
pcxigy nose.
He then coughed, looked across the carri-
age at me and ejaculated : " Bless my soul 1
It's a first I "
.My mild surprise must have been apparent,
for the pink and corpulent individual put his
chin inside his collar and glared at me fiercely
over the tops of his glasses.
"I find that I have inadvertently entered
a first-class compartment, sir," he exclaimed.
"And it is not my habit, sir, I may say that
it is against my Principles in this time of
my Country's stress, to enjoy the — er — un-
Page 146
CANADA IN KHAKI
necessary luxury of first-class travel. I de-
termined, as an Example, sir, to the thought-
less, to become a Third-class Passenger im-
mediately on the outbreak of the War. That
is ten months ago, and this is the first time,
sir, that I have broken my — er — vow."
I inclined my head to signify my perfect
sympathy with the little man. "You are a
true patriot, sir," I murmured.
" And who is not, sir ? " he thundered, with
an excited rustle of his morning paper. "By
gad ! sir, I see Red every time I open the
confounded newspaper."
"That must be inconvenient."
"Inconvenient, sir 1 It's my natural feel-
ings that get the better of a True-born Briton,
sir ; a True-born Briton who's not been accus-
tomed to standing any nonsense from any
damned foreigners, sir. No ! Gad ! if I were
only ten years younger ! Ten years I I'd
set the young slackers an example."
His eye presumably caught a headline in
his paper, for he added fiercely: "The best
thing about the Germans, sir, is their Mili-
tarism. We need a System like theirs, that
instils all the Great National Virtues — stern
^'atriotism, unflinching Discipline, blind
Courage, unhesitating Devotion to the Flag
and implicit Obedience to Superiors 1 That's
what this Nation wants, sir 1 "
And that was my first introduction to Mr.
Peter Poddigrew.
I met him a few mornings later on the
station platform, and we exchanged formal
greetings. Then, entangling me in his
wordy barbed wire, he insisted on my journey-
ing to town with him.
Although I don't suppose I managed more
than a dozen words during the journey, be-
fore we parted Mr. Peter Poddigrew (he had
already insisted on an exchange of cards)
complimented me on my "conversation."
"It's seldom, sir, that I meet a Man with
whom I so thoroughly Agree. Come and
dine with me, sir, to-morrow night. I shall
expect you. I insist."
Urgent business calling me from town, 1
was glad to be able to wire Mr. Poddigrew
my regrets.
I did not see him again for about six
months. Then I met him one morning at
the station, and was unable to avoid him.
He showed his gratification at the renewal of
our acquaintanceship by making a speech at
me which lasted practically the whole journey
citywards. The main theme of his discourse
that morning was the special duty of every
young man to take unto himself a wife
("not one of your damned pampered, de-
generate, fashionable hussies, sir, but a
Healthy, Sensible Woman capable of bear-
ing at. least four or five children I "), and
hasten to shoulder the responsibilities of
fatherhood, "for the Good of the State, sir,
to the Glory of the Flag."
I gathered, by the way, that he, was a
widower with one young daughter, an only
child, who house-kept for him.
A month later I was knocking at the door
of Mr. Peter Poddigrew's villa in Surbiton's
most select corner. I was admitted by a
smart young manservant into a well-appointed
hall, in which a picture of a bloody hand-to-
hand battle, draped with a Union Jack, had
a conspicuous place.
As I handed my hat and coat to the man
I wondered, for the twentieth time, what had
induced me to accept Poddigrew's pressing
invitation. The man was a complete bore.
He jarred horribly on my nerves. Still, at
the same time, I felt an interest in him as a
"type."
My hostess was standing before a cheerful
fire in the drawing-room. My first quick
impression of her was gold and pink. She
was a slim, pretty girl of about eighteen or
nineteen, and welcomed me gracefully, if a
trifle shyly. We had scarcely exchanged a
couple of sentences before her father bounced
and bustled overpoweringly into the room.
From then on he monopolised the talk until
dinner was announced. I let him rattle on,
feeling in no mood myself for conversational
competition.
The table entertainment, so far as I was
concerned, was not a great success. The
menu was over-ample and unimaginative.
The wines were good. The daughter — her
name was Daphne — was pleasantly mannered,
but with little conversation. She appeared to
be in a perpetual state of acquiescence. "I
agree entirely," she would say, opening wide
-T-r-
YOUNG MAY
Up to date from her curls
to her toes
Undisturbed by the
weaiher she goes —
In a snug "trencher"
coat
And with furs at her
throat-
young May doesn't care
if it snows.
But, when snow clouds
are swept from the
skies.
Up yonder she raises her
eyes/
To the stars in the
west
Her secret's confessed—
Keep my soldier in
safety," she sighs.
ICIC
TT
301
By MacMlchael
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page 147
her china-blue eyes; or else, "I qutte see what
you mean," or "I can't think why people
won't see that."
Then, suddenly, my interest in her quick-
ened. I scented romance.
Poddigrew (confound him I) had been hold-
ing forth again on "Duty to the State," the
"wickedly declining birth-rate" (whereat
Daphne had blushed quite in the approved
English and maidenly manner), "the curse of
selfishness, sir," and the urgent need for
every young man — it was always the young
man with Poddigrew — to marry, whatever his
circumstances, and rear numerous offspring
"on Principle."
"I know a young Canadian," I said, as
Poddigrew paused to sip his Burgundy, "who
holds your views on that subject. He was
telling me so rather forcibly the other day.
He's an engineer in civil life, quite success-
ful, and "
Here Daphne dropped her fork, and I saw
that her face had suddenly assumed a rosier
hue. Poddigrew glared.
I continued: "This young Canadian is a
man after your own heart. He believes sin-
cerely that everything in one's life should
be considered primarily in its relation to the
State, to the Empire; that individual am-
bition and desire should be subservient to that
ideal."
"Fine, sir, fine 1 " cried Poddigrew. "I'd
like to meet that young man. That's the
Spirit we want. Buskin, fill up the glasses."
"My Canadian friend sacrificed his busi-
ness and something like a thousand a year to
join up immediately war was declared. He
came over, too, with the avowed intention of
marrying a British g'rl, and taking her back
to Canada with him. Well, about a couple
of months ago he met his ideal, so he tells
me. She is a beautiful — and, I believe,
he added, thoroughly healthy and suitable —
young English girl. He fell in love
with her."
" And they are married ? " asked Poddigrew
eagerly.
"No. The girl's father objects to my Cana-
dian friend. He objects so strongly, although
his daughter's affections are centred on the
fellow, that he won't even allow him to call
at the house to discuss matters. Up to now
they have only exchanged letters."
"The man's a fool, sir, a fool 1 "
"Yes. He said he wasn't going to have his
daughter carted away into the ' wilds.' I
understand that the suitor pointed out in his
letters that, quite apart from the fact that they
love each other, it is the duty of the father to
permit his daughter to marry the man of her
choice, especially as he is going to take her
to another part of the Empire where women
and children are wanted more than here. He
also explained, during the course of the corre-
spondence, that it is for the good of the Em-
pire that they should marry and rear healthy
children."
"And quite right too, sir. In my opinion
" Poddigrew broke off with a gesture
of irritation as his daughter suddenly pushed
back her chair.
"I think I'll leave you," she said quietly.
I looked at hor, but she did not meet my eyes.
I noted that her cheeks had grown paler.
"You'll come into the drawing-room later,
won't you ? " she added.
" Yes, yes, my dear ! " Her father answered
her, a trifle testily I thought. Then he turned
to me, and volleyed forth a verbal barrage
through which I did not attempt to penetrate.
Later I spent an equally uninspiring half-
hour or so in the drawing-room. Daphne,
conversationally bankrupt — I was really sorry
for the poor child now, for she seemed to be
flustered and overpowered by her father's un-
quenchable rhetoric — turned to the piano,
almost, it seemed, in self-defence. She sang
one of the Indian Love Lyrics — "Less than
the Dust," I think it was — in a pretty but
uninspired voice.
I had come to the definite conclusion that
something was troubling her. I decided that
she was in fear of her father, and that he w.t;
something of a tyrant towards her.
Suddenly, as I stooped to turn a page of
music for her — she had finished singing — shp
whispered : "Is his name John Vane? "
I believe I started. But lurk-ily her father
could have noticed nothing. He was turninc:
over the pages of a monthly review.
She continued playing. I whispered my
reply: "Yes!"
Page 148
She had mentioned the name of my Cana-
dian friend. I wondered. So this was the
girl. And Poddigrew— Poddigrew the Super-
Patriot, the all-for-the-State merchant— it was
he who, in one of his ridiculous letters, had
called Vane "an opinionated young cub!"
Poddigrew, who "saw red " where others were
concerned, sang a different tune when it was
a matter of personal inconvenience, to the
extent even of refusing his daughter to the
man she loves I
Just as I was leaving, Poddigrew said : "By
the way, I wonder if you would bring your
Cai>adian friend along one evening? I'd like
to have a talk with him ! "
I was shaking hands with Daphne at the
moment. She smiled at me meaningly. I
turned to her father. "Of course," I answered;
"I'll bring him whenever it's convenient to
you. He'll be delighted. He knows very few
people in England."
"Wednesday night, then," said Poddigrew
breezily. "Seven-thirty sharp. I'll expect
you."
"Thanks.- You and he will have a chance
of exchanging ideas on the subject which
seems to burn with almost equal intensity in
the breasts of both of you."
I laughed and turned again to Daphne. I'll
swear she was hiding a smile behind that
ridiculously small handkerchief.
And thus it came about. I fixed it all up
with Vane. He was boyishly enthusiastic
over the scheme. "One' thing's sure," he
said boisterously, "I'll be an engaged man —
a real finance — before we leave that Pop-Gun
Patriot's shanty. We'll make Mister Peter
Poddigrew sit up all right 1 "
We did, too.
When Vane and I were shown into the
drawing-room, Poddigrew was standing be-
fore the fire. Daphne was not with him. I
introduced Vane as "Corporal Smith." Pod-
digrew welcomed him cordially, and at once
opened fire : "I've heard a lot about you, sir !
You're the kind of Man I like to meet."
CANADA y.V KHAKI
So he continued, in the strain of one ap-
pointed by the gods to be Higl? Priest of
State and Expositor Extraordinary of Im-
perial Principles, emphasising his trite re-
marks with blows of his fat fists. Vane
listened and agreed to all his drivel without
the suspicion of a twinkle in his eyes. Then
Daphne entered the room. The stage has lost
a promising actress in that girl. She didn't
so much as blush as her father presented
"Corporal Smith."
The inevitable topic cropped up soon after
Daphne came in, and provided Vane with the
opportunity he'd been angling for.
"Forgive me if I seem impertinent, sir,"
Poddigrew said, "but I have been given to
understand that you have been abominably
treated by some unpatriotic devil who doesn't
see things as we do. I need not assure you
of my Sympathy, sir. I agree, as you see,
entirely with your High Ideals. It is every
man's Duty to the Empire to marry the
Woman of his Choice, just as soon as ever he
can, and for them to rear children who shall
grow up to be of Service to the State. Every
young man worthy of our Glorious Empire
should be Ready and Eager to shoulder the
Responsibilities of Fatherhood with the Rifle
and defend our "
Vane strode quickly to Daphne's side, and
put his arm round her shoulders, without
taking his eyes from Poddigrew's face.
"Then why the — why, may I ask, do you re-
fuse to allow me to marry your daughter ? "
he demanded.
Poddigrew gasped ; and then his jaw
dropped. He stared, first at Daphne and
Vane, and then at me, while his face
purpled.
"Why— why !" he spluttered at last,
showing symptoms of apoplexy. "Well, I'm
— but, confound you, sir — well, of all the
damned young blackguards! " . . .
That dinner party was a great success. But
Poddigrew, strangely enough, left most of the
talking to his future son-in-law.
HIS CONSTANT COMPANION
Bu II. Viffun
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page 149
ON RECEIVING A PIPE FROM AN
ANONYMOUS DONOR
By " R.M.E."
Illustrated bg Dudlep Hardp,
Dear daughter of the Empire, you
Who drew a dollar from your purse,
Purchased a pipe — a beauty, too —
And mailed it 'cross a universe
To reach some lonely soldier's hands;
I have it — one who understands.
No introduct'ry card it
bears,
This welcome friend
from overseas;
It just arrives, pot-luck
it shares.
With my surround-
ings it agrees.
And you who sent it,
you're a dear,
Part of our priceless
atmosphere.
Unknowingly, and all
unwrit,
They sign a pact that
lasts the years —
The sender of the gift,
to wit,
The man whose awk-
ward hours it
cheers,
And last the happy,
honest bowl.
The symbol of a con-
stant soul.
"It just arrives, pot-luck it shares"
I fill your gift with Honey Dew,
And Golden Flake, and 'Arf-a-Mo,
A hundred times, and oft of you
I think as quiv'ring rings I blow;
And framed in some of them I see
The kind of woman you must be.
Tis pity that you did
not give
Some tiny clue to
trace you by;
But I've a notion where
you live.
Even a name for you
have I.
And whether you're a
miss or ma'am,
I've got ideas — but I'm
a clam !
Countless the chances
are to one
That e'er I'll see you
in the flesh.
Are you a flapper full
of fun.
Or twenty-four with
roses fresh ?
Are you kind sixty,
sweet sixteen,
Or some "just-nice"
age in between ?
'Tis good to love one woman well.
To own one dog, to trust one chum ;
But when they play you false, farewell
To your life's equilibrium. *
Fidelity, thy prototype.
Is just an ordinary pipe I
I and my fancy have a bet
That after dinner, on the sly.
You're not above a cigarette,
Or, I can see you standing by
Lighting some lucky man's cigar.
That's the good sort 1 think you arc.
Page IBO
CANADA IN KHAKI
] Madge: "Why's that soldier got two horses?"
Harold (the encyclopsedia) : "That's 'cos if one was punctured.'
By D. U Ghilchih
P'raps he's your father, p'raps your son, The man who fills his briar-bowl
(Impertinence to speculate !) And seeks alone the nearest nook,
P'raps he's the only, only one His love, his gratitude, the whole
You've sworn to love or tolerate; Of all the virtues in his Book,
But, if your heart's yours to bestow, Creep to him there to wait their chance.
You'll choose a smoker— that, I know ! The whims of his extravagance.
Ah, 'twere relief to
wring the hands
Supremely dear that
knits me socks
And wrap them round
all kinds of brands
Of th i n gs to eat
packed in a box ;
Yet to a really lonely
bloke
The choicest gifts go
up in smnkp I
"The choicest gifiv ft., up in smoke"
So when in my dug-
out I sit
And puflf, and puff,
my thanks to you ;
You've done a trifle to-
wards your bit.
Dear daughter of the
Empire, who
Of my poor musings
fugitive
Have won the kindest
I can give.
^ VAX ADA IX KHAKI
Page 151
"RATS!"
Canadian: "I don't believe Mac knows what a moose is."
Mac: "Awa" wi' yel Ah ken fine, ye catch 'em in tr-r-r-aps wi' cheese."
By Atf Pearsa
Parte 152
CANADA IX KHAKI
CANADIANS USE THE PLOUGH FOR CUTTING RAILWAY TRACKS
Light Railway construction troops ploughing up the earth which the drag "scrapers," drawn
by mules, carry away for "dumping"
"Scraper" gathering its load
'Scraper" dumping its haul
Canadian Official Photographs
\
CAXADA l\ KHAKI
P<i(je 153
CANADA'S STEEL-THROATED VOICE
One of the great guns with its tackle employed in pounding Hill 70
Ihe gun's crew find their stern work congenial
Canadian Official Photographs
Page 154
CANADA IN KHAKI
CANADIANS ARE AS FOND OF SPORT AS THEY ARE OF FIGHTING
Wrestling on horses — both men and steeds bareback — is welcome excitement
ftV^': ■>•
The "Canuck" must have his baseball game even if he is under fire
Canadian Official Photographs
r.l.V.l/>.'l IX KllAKI
Page 155
"BUT THINGS LIKE THIS YOU KNOW MUST BE'
Canadians and Hun prisoners fare alike when hors de combat
A survivor of Vimy Ridge
Carried in from battle
Canadian Official Photographs
Page 156
CANADA IN KHAKI
By H. J. Mowiit
THE SNIPERS
The black night formed a murky lid
To the flame-ringed edge of hell;
The tortured silence screamed beneath
The withering lash of shell.
The sniper, at his frozen post,
Swore hard as he crouched there low;
Fire from the furnace of his eyes
Blazed a red trail through the snow.
He found the shadow that he sought;
It deepened; and then was still.
He jammed his rifle to his cheek —
Death hovered near, at his will.
Two shots were wedded in one crash . . ,
Two snipers had killed — and died.
Thus did the cruel hand of War
Gather two victims side by side.
IE
azz^azE^izE
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page 157
SOLDIERS !
By J. E. SIME
(Author of "Canada Chap*")
TIME.— Any Year in the Great War.
PLACE.— A Real Live Room— with a Real
Live Birch Tree just outside the
Window.
PEOPLE.— Ian.
Ian's Mother.
A Neat Tablemaid.
Lots of Tin Soldiers.
IT is not a dining-room, nor yet a drawing-
room, nor is it a study. It is neither
ticketed nor labelled. It is a room to be alive
in ; you can call it by any name you choose.
Close outside the window is a birch — a cut-
leaf birch — just coming into leaf. Exquisite
it stands there, delicate, drooping, fragile to
look at, and yet strong. Winter is behind it,
summer before it. The green haze of coming
leaf seems to deepen as you look ; it is spring-
time in Canada. And the sun comes glinting
through the branches and gleaming through
the window, and it falls on a small boy (who
will be a big one before you can turn round)
on the floor with his regiments and regiments
of tin soldiers ranged all ready for battle in
front of him.
His mother sits at the window knitting.
Sometimes she looks at the birch, and she
smiles as she looks at it — and she might be a
Japanese woman smiling at the cherry blos-
som. And sometimes she looks at the boy
at her feet, and her eyes grow large and soft.
And then she might be the Japanese woman
looking at her boy lying on the ground close
beside her.
They are silent. The boy is intent on his
soldiers, the mother is intent on her thoughts.
Her thoughts are of soldiers too — not made
of tin.
Ian. [Placing the last soldier to his satis-
faction.] Mother, could I have a khaki suit?
Ian's Mother. [With a start.] What for,
Ian?
S— II '
Ian. Oh, so's I can pretend I'm going
fighting.
Ian's Mother. Wait a bit, boy.
Ian. [Persuasive.] Can't I, mother, then?
Ian's Mother. Wait, Ian, till you can have
the real thing.
Ian. But that's such a long time to wait.
Ian's Mother. It'll come. Wait a bit.
Ian. [After a second.] Mother, don't you
•want me to go fighting ?-
Ian's Mother. [Dropping her knitting and
looking at him.] I do — and I don't.
Ian. [Trying as all of us boys and girls do
to get round enigmas.] Why ?
Ian's Mother. [Taking up her knitting
again.] I'm afraid I can't explain.
Ian. [Perceptive — aggrieved.] You mean
I couldn't understand ! That's what you
mean when you say that.
Ian's Mother. [Smiling.] Well, perhaps a
little !
Ian. [Looking up at her.] But I could.
Ian's Mother. You wait a bit.
Ian. [This last straw breaking his back.]
That's what you always say. That's what
everyone keeps saying. I'm so tired of hear-
ing that !
Ian's Mother. [Realising the reasonable-
ness of this] Ian, if I could explain
Ian. [Eagerly.] Try, mother.
Ian's Mother. [Doubtfully.] Well
Ian. [Feeling that he has a reputation to
keep up — most anxious to prove that he can
understand.] Well?
Ian's Mother. It's this way, then. You
see, dad's gone.
Ian. [Proiidly touching the Commanding
Officer in Tin.] Yes, I know. That's him.
Ian's Mother. It was bad enough to let
him go. [She hesitates, dropping her knit-
ting.] Ian, if you'd been big, I don't know
what I should have done.
Ian. [Disposing of that.] You'd have said
Page 168
CANADA IN KHAKI
Good-bye. [Touching the tallest Private tn
the front row.] That's me.
lan's Mother. [Involuntarily.] Oh, that's
a dangerous place !
Ian. [Immovable.] It's me.
lan's Mother. [Bending forward and re-
moving the soldier in the front row to the last
back corner place.] That's where I'd rather
have you.
Ian. [Outraged — snatching up the soldier
and restoring him to his old place.] What —
have me in the back of everything ! You
wouldn't, mother.
Jan's Mother. [Looking at him.] Ian, if
you got killed
Ian. [Explanatory.] I'm one of the Five
Hundred. They got killed !
lan's Mother. Oh, but we don't hear any-
thing of the Five Hundred's mothers !
Ian. [Indifferently.] Mothers don't fight.
lan's Mother. No, but they give their sons
to fight.
Ian. [Who has never thought of the matter
just this way.] Do you give us, mother?
lan's Mother. Yes, we give you, Ian.
[She hesitates again, and then decides to
speak.] Ian, it's a lot of trouble to make a
man you know.
Ian. [Uninterested.] Paying for school
and clothes and things, you mean.
lan's Mother. Yes — and IcSts of other
things. You see, you're fond of all those
soldiers, aren't you? Why, you've spent the
whole afternoon drilling and placing them.
Ian. [Defensively — foreseeing possible
critical suggestions as to more profitable ways
of spending time.] Well, they're lots of fun.
lan's Mother. Yes, and, you see, you like
them partly just because you spend your time
on them, play with them, and work with
hem, and get to understand them and the
battles they can fight.
Ian. [Reassured as to criticism — full of in-
terest.] Yes. this is the Battle of the Marne
they're fighting now.
lan's Mother. [In a low voice.] And to-
morrow they'll be fighting Festubert.
Ian. [Enthusiastic — shouting.] Yes, and
the next day after that St. Julien.
Jan's Mother. And so, you see, you're
fond of them because you've got to know
them. Do you see that? New soldiers
wouldn't be the same. Now, would they ?
Ian. [Doubtfully — not quite catching on.]
N-no.
lan's Mother. And, don't you see, you're
just the same to me. I'm fond of you because
I've worked with you and played with you —
because you're mine. And, just as your
soldiers are your very own, and you don't
want to part with them, or see them
broken
Ian. [Hoisting himself along the floor,
leaning .one elbow on her knee, quite in-
terested.] Yes? Go on, mother.
lan's Mother. Ian, I'm just like you.
You're my tin soldier. I don't want to part
with you — and see you broken. That's why I
said that it was bad enough to have dad go,
and that I wanted to keep you lie re beside me.
Ian. [Pondering.] But, mother
lan's Mother. Well?
Ian. Mother, if I was grown up now, you
wouldn't want to have me here. You'd want
to have me fighting, wouldn't you ?• [He
bends over and touches the front Private.]
Like that.
lan's Mother. [Looking out at the birch.]
Ian, if you were big and grown a man, I don't
know how I could ever let you go. [After
a moment — in a surprised tone.] And yet
you're right. I wouldn't want to have you
stay.
Ian. [Common sense.] Of course you
wouldn't. I'd be there, you bet I
lan's Mother. [Still looking out at the
birch — still in her surprised voice.] No ;
you're right. I'd push you out with my own
hands sooner than have you stay. I'd want
to have you there. [She bends down and takes
the Private, and rapidly changes Private and
Officer.] I'd want to have you there.
Ian. [Eagerly.] Yes, and I'd get there.
Jan's Mother. [Like a flash.] But, Ian,
perhaps you'd die getting there.
Ian. [Falling back on his original argu-
ment.] So did the Five Hundred. Don't you
remember? If they did, T could. [Clinching
the matter.] I'm Canadian.
lan's Mother. [In a hurry.] You're Scotch
as well. And if von ever go, you'!! have to
go in a kilt — mind that!
CANADA /.V KHAKI
Page 189
Ian. [Tolerantly.] That's just because
you're Scotch, mother. [Stating the facts of
the case.] I'm Canadian. [After a second.]
And so's dad.
lan's Mother. [Still in a hurry.] Don^
push me out.
Ian. [Giving encouragement where en-
couragement is due.] Never mind, mother.
You're Canadian since you married us. Dad
and me's made you one.
lan's Mother.
Bv Dudley CU/tver
" And were you wounded so badly, poor man, all in one battle ?"
" Gte ! There's nothing half so bad as this at the front. ) just
got hit by a "bus in your city when I was on leave ! "
lan's Mother. [Doubtfully.] Well, I sup-
pose I am I
Ian. [Finishing that.] Of course you are.
We've made you one, I tell you. [Reverting
to the main trunk of the conversation.]
So I'd go with the Canadians, and I'd
lead 'em into battle, and then I'd die.
[Reflectively.] Or else I'd come back home
again, perhaps.
[Stopping her knitting to
give him one tight
squeeze.] You'd come
back home a^«.n.
Ian. [Wriggling out of
the squeeze.] Like dad.
lan's Mother. [Her eyes
again on the birch tree.]
Like dad.
[The birch waves a little in
the spring breeze. It
might be a Highland
., birch on the slope of a
Highland hill. It is
Scotland transplanted,
and growing in its
new soil sturdily.]
lan's Mother. [Coming
back from the birch — de-
cidedly.] Anyway, you'd
have to wear the kilt.
Ian. [Responding to the
note of decision.] All
right, mother.
lan's Mother. And the
bagpipes on in front !
Ian. Canadian bagpipes.
lan's Mother. [Doubt-
fully once more.] Well, I
suppose so.
Ian. [Jumping up —
taken dramatic] Me with
the Canadians, and us
going into battle with the
bagpipes at the head of us.
[tVi/h one leap he goes
into battle on the spot,
and plunges head first
into the tea-tray com-
ing in at the door in
the arms of a neat
Tablemaid.]
Page IBO
CANADA IN KHAKI
The Neat Tablemuid. Oh
Ian. Oh !
lan's Mother. Ian 1
Ian. [Foreseeing possible unpleasant con-
sequences.] I didn't mean to
lan's Mother. [Taking up her knitting
again.] Any harm done, Minnie?
The Neat Tablevuiid. [With the glance of
affection in the direction of Ian.] No,
ma'am. Not to speak of — so to say.
' Ian. [Relieved.] Oh ! [After a slight
pause, during which the Neat Tablemaid
arranges her tea-table unobtrusively.] Say,
mother ? >
lan's Mother. One, two, three — pur] !
One, two, three — purl ! W^it a minute, Ian.
Ian. [After a minute fraction of time.]
Mother
lan's Mother. [Showing alarming signs of
relapsing into knitting for good.] Well,
what is it ?
Ian. Mother, if you wouldn't mind me
going in a kilt that time.
lan's Mother. Get on,
Ian. [Blurting it out — not at all sure of the
reception of his logic] Well, couldn't I have
a khaki suit right now ?
lan's Mother. [Taken aback — under the
impression that that was settled long ago.]
Oh!
Ian. [Pleadingly.] Oh, mother, couldn't I?
lan's Mother. [Hesitating.] Well
By IF. F. Thomas
Sergeant (who is classifying men for Church Parade, to long-haired recruit) : " What religion ? "
Recruit : *' Unitarian."
Sergeant (staring aghast at his flowing locks) : " Unit-hairun I I should say so ; you hop off
n>ii' >.ep ilic l)iirbBr ! "
"The Unsoldierlike Sub.
A LETTER FROM THE FRONT.
^
THERE has come to band, within the last {ew weeks, a
letter from a Captain with the B.E f. which is well
worth reprinting here, in view of its distinctive differ-
ence from the majority of " letters from the rroni," as well
as what has been lately published regarding the remarkable
extent to which " Pelmanism" is being adopted by officers
of His Majesty's Army and Navy.
Here is the letter in question :
*' 1 was looked upon with disfavour by the CO. of my Itattalioo at
home as being a sleepy, forgetful, and unsold'erlike itub. When 1
began your CourK my star be^an to rise — I bad the ability, but bad
not been able to use it. I ictt the home battalion With my CO.'t
recommendation as being the best officer be had bad for more than a
year, and came to France.
" I W.1S then appointed as a second lieutenant to command a company
over the heads of four ftjen with two ' pips,' and have now three slai«
and an M.C.
" Thai 1 was able to make use of my abilitiel so succesafulhr I attribute
entirely to the Pelman System. '* , Captain."
As an isolated letter, the foregoing might fail lo carry much weight
But when it is taken as typical ol some hundreds of similar letters
from Army and Navy officers, then, ini^ced, one is forced to con-
cede that theie must be "something in Pelmanism."
Nearly forty Generals and Admirals and well over 300 naval anJ
regimental commanders — to say nothing of 3.000 other officers and
a multitude orN.C.O.sand men — have adopted Pelmanism since
the outbreak of war, and every day brings reports from them as to
substantial Ijenefits derived.
Let us take a few examples. A Naval Captain reports promotion
to the command of a line cruiser — thanks to his Pelman training.
A Lieutenant-Colonel reports " a step in rank " within two months
of starting the Course. A Major writes attributing his Majority
aittl his U.S.O. to the same agency. A General and a Rear-
Admiral also write giving testimony. There is not a rank or unit
of either Service which has not supplied convincing evidence of the
fact that Pelmanism is truly the short road to progress.
Many officers find that, in addition to assisting them to greater
military efficiency, the Pelman Course serves other desirable ends.
For example : —
*' The Course has prevented me bccomine slack and stagnating during
my Army life— this is a most virulent clanger, I ma)r add. It incuf-
cates a clean, thorough, courageous method of playing the game of
Life — admirably suited to the Kngtish temperament, ana should prove
wmpral salvation to many a business man. * Success,' too, would
follow — but I cottsider this as secondary."
Such letters render comment superfluous.
The evidence forces one irresistibly to the conclusion that, as
•' Truth " says, "The Pelman Institute places the means of pro-
gress within the reach of everyone. " However sweeping this state-
ment may appear, it is literally true I There is no case upon record
in which the conscientious student of " Pelmanism" has failed to
reach the coveted goal— whether that goa. \x promotion, financial
betterment, social or professional advancement, or aught else.
" Pelmanism " in the Services.
The extent to which " Pelmanism" has been adopted by both
Services is wonderlul. At the present time there are no fewer than
7,000 officers and men following the Pelman Course, including : —
— 3< OeneralB. 6 Admiral*,
—81 Naval Captains and Commanders.
—144 Colonels, and over 3,000 other OfScera.
From these, voluntary reports are received daily, recording pro-
motion and other benefits due to "Pelmanism."
As to results, the difficulty is to select the most representative
ones. Here is a random selection which could be multiplied a
thousandfold from the Institute's records : —
—Promotion to Colonelcy.
—Placed my practice on a satisfactory basis (Doctor.)
—Else of £145 per annum (Salssman).
— Donbled my turnover.
—Naval promotion (Captain).
—Salary improved 30:> par cent.
-Utarary prize of C230.
— Hy Income has gone up 300 per cent. (ArohltACtX
—Substantial Increase in my salary.
—Increase of salary iiO per cant.
—Increased tumover and salary.
-Secured a Stafr Api>olntment (Army).
—My tumover has beaten all records.
— Hy business has Increased contdderably.
—Salary exactly doubled.
—Added £80 to my Commlasion Account.
—I have bad a 40 per cent. rise.
—Salary Increased, also a ten per cent, bonna
—My salary has been Increased by sn per cent.
-The means of making my Income double.
— Oreateat increase In biutness.
Thus, in every direction— ! ind educa-
tional—the Hrlnian Sysiei. 1 men and
women of every trade, pn " ,,i,iin success.
And what is the cost ? ■ devoted each evening
for a few weeks to a most ■ of study ; not study m
the humdrum sense of the woril, but a real mental recreation.
From the very first !r«;'.nn difficulties begin to vanish ; problems
bt'- . 11 13 no magic
fi'! •rlectly open one
— t: , . „ „ aon of Uie menul
faculties, leadmg 10 a tremendous sumulation oi energy and confi-
dence in oneself.
From business and profes.^ional women eulo ■ ^ are
received by the thousand. M.iny of them actti.i The
Pelm.in Institute for understatin/; the value of ii.^ s .u.^v. For
instance, a Solicitor writt^ • —
"I used to think that the claims made far 'Pelmanism'
must tie fantastic; now I consider them to be undentate-
ment* of the truth. "
It is useful to bear in mind this comment t^hen
one is tempted to think that tbe annoui . the
Institute are in any degree exaggerated. Ai .■ lad,
evtry slattmrnt made htre or eliewhere by tht Fttman JfrnttlmU can
b€ kandsomgly JHitified by a reftrenct to the record] of the Jiulitute,
A Student of the Course recently wrote : " If people only knew,
the di»rs of the Pelman Institute would tie literally besieged by
en::" i.-.^,. '■—■ as a purely social and intellectual factor,
1'' ' few hours required for its study ; and
o\> opie have enrolled for it within the last
few weeks (Iruin duLul rank downwartls).
Qualities Developed.
Following the intensely interesting lessoiu and exercises, the
'rong
nd
.tnd b/>ii.tl duties
-ss. All mental
niinated — such a->
Aimlcssness, Bash-
etc. .etc Individual
■ :dent receives the
■istructors at th<-
ind problems.
students of Pelmanism rapidly develop a brill
Will Power, complete power of Concentration
judgment, an ability to Reason clearly, lo <
Organise and Manage, and to conduct :'
with Tact, Courage, Sell-Confidentr
weaknesses and deircl'; are, on the oth
Mind-wandcring, Forgetfulness, Weak Will,
fulness. Self -consciousness, the " Worry Habit."
instruction is given through the post. -- ' '
utmost assistance from the large exp'
Institute in solving particular personal
The Directors of the Institute have arranged a subsuntial
reduction in the fee to enable readers to secure the complete oourst-
with a minimum outlay. To get the iMneflt of this liberal
offer, application should ba made at once by postcard or by
latter to the address below.
Write to-day.
A full description of the Pelman Course is given in " Mind and
Memory," a free copy of which (together with " TRUTH S ' special
Report on " Pelmanism, " and particulars showing how to secure
the Cotlrse for one-third less than the usual fee) will be sent post
free to all readers of " Canada in Khak.1 " »ho send to The
Pelman Institute, 106. Wenhara House, Bloomsbury Street. London,
W,Ci.
Pa^e 16S
CA.VADA IN KHAKI
Ian. [Seeing a ray of light thai may pus-
sibly lighten a Gentile.] Why couldn't I ?
lan's Mother. [Not able to stop hesitating
now she has begun.] It makes it seem so real.
Ian. [More than willing to meet her half-
way.] We'd have Scotch bagpipes, mother.
/ shouldn't mind. Just two or three. We
wouldn't mind. They'd come along with us
Canadians. We'd soon teach 'em !
Jan's Mother. [Abstracted.] Why do you
want a khaki suit so, Ian ?
Ian. [Tending to self-importance.] It's
kind of getting ready. And you said you'd
want to have me go.
lan's Mother. [Reluctantly.] Yes, I know
I did.
Ian. [Persistent.] Then why can't I
have it?
lan's Mother. [Weakening.] Well, if
Ian. [Hardly believing his ears.] Oh,
mother, can I ? [Beatifically to the surround-
ing atmosphere.]- Then I can I
lan's Mother. [Just for one moment relaps-
ing into the Aged Grown-up talking down to
the Young.] We'll see about it.
Ian. [Recognising this time-worn medium
of consent — entirely refusing to be daunted by
the gulf between Old and Young.] Mother,
you're a peach !
lan's Mother. [Genuinely shocked this
time.] Ian, what a way to talk !
[The Neat Tablemaid makes her appearance
again with a dish of hot muffins in her
hands. .She puts it down on the tea-table,
smiles surreptitiously at Master Ian, and
disajypears.]
Jan. [Making for tea-fable.] There's tea.
Mother, come on ! When can we go and
buy it?
lan's Mother. [Rolling up her knitting
anyhow — stuffing it into a bag — making a
dash for the tea-tray too — suddenly just about
the same age as Ian.] Oh, I want my tea!
Buy what V
Ian. [Reproachfully.] Mother I My
khaki
lan's Mother. [Stopping en route for the
teapot to give Ian a squeeze and a hug and
twenty miscellaneous kisses all over him any-
where.] Oh, I don't know. Any time.
[Giving him one last hug.] Jan, I'm glad
you're not grown-up — in a kilt ! I'm thankful.
Jan. [Squirming out of the kisses.] Don't,
mother. [Dragging himself up a chair close
to the table, casting a hawk's eye over the
eatables.] Can we go to-morrow ? Will you,
mother? To-morrow morning, early?
lan's Mother. [Taking the teapot in her
hand — bursting out laughing.] I will, if
you'll
Jan. [Ekigerly — going headlong into the
trap.] If I'll what?
lan's Mother. [Laughing just like a school-
girl.] If you'll have all Scotch bagpipes — not
a Canadian skirl amongst them I Will you,
Ian?
Jan. [Scenting ridicule — getting pink.]
Mother
[He entombs the rest of his remarks in a great
, deal more hot muffin than is healthful for
the young. His mother goes on pouring
out the tea. She glances over at Ian as
she passes him his cup, and she still
laughs a little. And then she looks out at
the birch, and she sighs. The birch
stands like some spring miracle of a foun-
tain, showering green spray instead of
white.]
WORSERY" RHYMES.
Baa-baa, Bombers, have you any Bombs?
Yes, sir, yes, sir, here they comes.
One for the Kaiser and one for Fritz,
And one for to frighten ole Heine into fits.
The A.m. p. has lost his men.
And doesn't know where to find them.
Let 'em alone and they'll come home
Leaving their crime sheets behind them.
Sing a song of Pill-box,
Pocket full of Huns,
Four-and-twenty Boches
Chained to their guns.
When the Pill was opened
The Huns began to sing :
. " Kamerad, Kamerad, God Save the
King."
f
ALL CANADIAN
AND OTHER
SOLDIERS ARE WELCOMED
in the 800 RECREATION HUTS, TENTS, and Centre* of
THE CHURCH ARMY
in the Training Camps at Home and in France. 200 under shell-fire along
the Western Front ; also in Malta, Egypt, Sinai, Palestine, Macedonia,
Mesopotamia, East Africa, and India.
Facilities for readings, writing, drying wet clothing, refreshments,
games, music, &c. ; also quiet corner for meditation, religious
services, &c.
Cost of Hot, £500, fully eqnipped.
MORE ARE URGENTLY NEEDED.
. Cheques crossed " Barclays', a/c Church Army." payable to Prebendary Carlilc, D.D., Hoi
^k Chie! Secretary, Headquarters, Bryanston Street, Marble Arch, London, W.I, England.
A
^
^
CANADIAN MILITARY BADGES.
We have made more badges for the Canadian Expeditionary
Force than any other firm in England, having cut over 60G
different dies since August, 1914.
The average prices for battalion orders of 1,000 upwards
are : —
Cap badges . .
Collar badges .
Shoulder titles.
6d. each (12 cents).
7\A. per pair (15 cents).
7\di. per pair (15 cents).
Special designs cost slightly more, while ordinary maple leaves and plain titles
are considerably less.
Officers' badges, when ordered with men's, come out at special rates.
We also make artistic reproductions in gold and silver as souvenirs.
Our factory is self-contained, thus enabling us
to guarantee rapid deliveries.
Whatever you want in these goods, WRITE US. '\^ ^ [^\^F7^
XIPXAFX &• SON. LXD.. ^Mi^(; /. r\
Norlhamplon Street, Birmingh»m, England.
^
'Phone: Caatral 6661.
Taleir*' hie Address : "Tlstaft, BirminKhain."
^
XXVI
Page 164
- CANADA IN KHAKI
MAKING THE GUNS AND
A Visit to an Armament and Munitions WorKs in the North of England
By Lieut. G. W. CAVERS
THREE years ago the Allied nations
opposed to the aims of the Central
Powers of Europe went into Armageddon ill-
equipped and consequently outclassed. This
was especially the case with regard to Great
Britain. It was early found that she had not
provided the quantities of arms and muni-
tions necessary to sustain even Lord French's
"contemptible little army" in the field of
action, not to speak of the ever-growing
forces that were springing to the aid of the
Motherland at home and in the Daughter
States in all quarters of the globe.
Optimistic beings lulled us into a sense of
fancied security by averring that the war
would last only a few months; that giant
preparations for a long war would be costly
and unnecessary. They were listened to by
men in high places, with this unfortunate
result : not until months after the torch had
been applied did the whole people of the
Empire realise that, with the appliances at
hand, they could not extinguish the confla-
gration. They discovered that unless our
armies were placed on a par with their oppo-
nents and provided with immense and ever-
increasing quantities of guns and shells they
must lose the war. The attention of the first
Minister of Munitions was directed towards
providing those guns and shells.
It was through the courtesy of the present
Minister of Munitions that a party of officers
and other ranks representing the Shoreham
Area had an opportunity recently of visiting
great plants in the North of England. As
stated in the circular letter from Head-
quarters, the trip was arranged "in order that
a just appreciation may be formed of the
efforts which have been made both by men
and women since the outbreak of the war."
The trip was a delight and a revelation.
To some extent the operations of our muni-
tions and armament works have been veiled
in secrecy; but since it has been acknow-
ledged officially that the Canadian volunteer
should be made acquainted with the efforts
that are being made properly to equip him
for the fray, the writer feels that something
should be said, in the way of a general report
of the trip, to help to convey to the minds of
those not fortunate enough to see for them-
selves, a just estimate of the wonders of one
of the representative establishments of the
Empire.
The party inspected over 80' acres of build-
ings in one town. All these buildings bear
the same name. The ^employees of this firm
in this town alone number 13,000. Here were
seen something of the many processes of
welding and forging and shaping huge
blocks of steel and iron into guns, armour
plates, gun mountings, shells, locomotive
wheels. There were 50-foot guns for the
newest battleships. There were hundreds of
i8-pounders, howitzers, bomb-throwers, anti-
aircraft guns. There were thousands of
shells for the i8-pounders and more thousands
of the 15-inch "pills" that weigh in the
neighbourhood of a thousand pounds apiece
and travel in their flight 15 miles from the
muzzle to the target with wonderful accuracy.
Chief interest centred in the huge naval
guns. In the first place, we noticed some
14-inch naval guns for Allied Governments.
Some of these guns were 700 inches long,
the length being determined by the number
of calibres — in this case 50 calibres of 14
inches. We were told that this particular
Government was impressed with the import-
ance of possessing a long gun, as some
Tbe LONDON LEADS
i
•I
I
9
The LONDON MAGAZINE has
reached PRE-EMINENCE in
the magazine world, and has at-
tained a circulation that is the
envy of its rivals, b^ the
consistent excellence of its
contents.
*♦' *♦» *♦»
The War interest in every number is strong.
-^ •=♦» -*•
But the interest of the " London " is by no
means exclusively a War interest. It specialises
in Complete Stories from the fascinating pens of
writers who are AT THE TOP OF THE
TREE in contemporary fiction.
The Nature Stories by F. ST. MARS are a source
of delight month by month to its hundreds of
thousands of readers.
And these hundreds of thousands of readers in
Great Britain, at the Front, and in Canada have
learnt to LOOK to the LONDON for special
articles on vital topics, because they know that
to make these articles as interesting as they
can possibly be, _no trouble will be spared and
no cost will be too great.
XXVll
Page 166
CANADA IN KHAKI
thing that must necessarily be worth the
money ; whf^reas the more practical John Bull
prefers a shorter gun, making up for it by
the extra amount of "push" that is placed
in the magazine and the increased resisting
power of the barrel. So that we go in for
guns of 45 calibres, the calibre being 14-inch
or 15-inch as the case may be.
Now a 15-inch gun, without the mountings,
weighs roughly, I was told, about 120 tons.
There are eight on a first-class battleship,
so that we may easily understand that ships
must be constructed with considerable regard
to the weight of the guns they will have to
carry, else they would not have the required
buoyancy. The greatest weight of one of
these guns is concentrated in the magazine
or shell chamber. The gun itself has four
tubes of forged steel throughout its whole
length. These are strengthened in the
vicinity of the shell chamber by winding thin
bands of steel over them. These steel bands
are -^ of an inch in width and .07 of an inch
in thickness. The extent to which this wind-
ing process reinforces the four tubes may be
jodged from the fact that in some of the
largest guns 180 miles of steel are used.
There are 32 layers of this steel, one on top
of the other. Then outside of all this is a
jacket of steel. The steel is warmed so that it
expands, and then it is pushed over the tubes
and the 32 layers of reinforcing bands. When
it cools it fits snugly. The whole has a
wonderful resisting power, able to withstand
the tremendous pressure of the explosive.
The building of a naval gun of such dimen-
sions requires about nine months. This
gun is good for about 120 charges. Then
it comes back to the factory to be relined.
The exterior is still all right, but after a
hundred or more projectiles weighing a thou-
sand pounds each have passed through the
barrel, and prodigious quantities of high
explosives have been set off inside to speed
those projectiles on their way, it can be
understood that the weapon is ready to be
laid up for repairs.
We were interested in the casting of the
great armour piercing shells for these naval
monsters. I have said that they are about
1,000 pounds in weight. The metal is gas-
heated in a crucible at a temperature of about
1,600 degrees Centigrade, and the heating
takes from 12 to 14 hours. The pouring of
the metal was timed for the arrival of our
party at the spot. At the base of the crucible
the clay bank was punctured and a livid
stream of iron ran over the ground and into
a ladle standing on the track below. This
ladle holds liquid iron for 12 shells. It
requires some minutes for this crucible to
empty itself; then a travelling crane seized
the ladle and carried it over to the moulds
which were soon filled and the shells were
ready, save for a little trimming.
Various other processes were witnessed in
the brief inspectiqn of this huge plant. We
saw operatives cutting inch-and-a-half steel
turret plates that protect the guns of the
battleships. An oxy-acetylene flame melted
the steel as easily as a plumber dissolves his
solder with a small gas blow. We saw
drop-forges of great weight shaping locomo-
tive wheels and armour plates. There were
hundreds of branches, all under one manage-
ment. And each worthy of a visit of some
hours.
This firm is merely representative of
Britain's gigantic efforts to restore peace to
a stricken world. Under the spur of the
Win-the-War Government it is speeding up
to full capacity — three shifts a day, the fires
of the furnaces never dying. In the Mid-
land counties, in North England and in
South England hundreds of factories similar
to this one are piling up prodigious quantities
of shells to back up the boys in the firing
line, and turning out guns in unbelievable
numbers.
The Canadian representatives who saw
this wonderful industry will have a better
understanding of this important side of the
war business, and it was a happy idea to
inaugurate a series of visits of this kind.
G. W. Cavers.
CONSUMPTION
THE Tubercle Bacillus is still claiming its victims, and, unfortunately,
many of our men who have escaped the Huns' bullets have only done
so to be claimed by this insidious germ, the Tubercle Bacillus. There is,
however, a remedy to combat it, although it has not yet been officially
recognised, and anyone sufTering from Consumption or Tuberculosis, in
whatever form, will be wise to write for full particulars of the Stevens'
treatment ; or, if full details of the case are sent, a supply of the remedy
itself will be despatched, specially suitable, on the distinct understanding
that nothing whatever need be paid for it unless the patient be perfectly
satisfied with the benefit received, and considers the progress made
warrants its continuance.
Many who were hopeless cases of Consumption a short time ago are
now fighting for their King and Country hale and hearty, and thank.
Stevens' Consumption Cure for their recoveries. The following are just
a few of them ; the addresses given are of their homes. Those suffering
from the disease should write to them direct and get first-hand evidence
that this wretched disease can really be cured, and men, after suffering
from it even in its last stages, fitted for actual war service : —
Mr. A. Armstrong, Wilks Hill, Quebec, Durham
— Tubercular Spine. He was discharged from the
Newcastle Infirmary as a hopeless case, as they
could do no more for him. Was cured by Stevens'
treatment, and when last heard of on May 17th
had been serving in the trenches in France for
eleven months.
Mr. G. E.James, 29 High Oak, Pensnett, Dudley,
StafTs, was cured by Stevens' remedy after sana-
torium treatment proved a failure. When last
heard of on June 27th had been eleven months in
France with the British Expeditionary Force.
Mr. E. Jones, Tygwyn Farm,- Llangoedmore,
Cardigan, was cured by Stevens' Consumption
Cure, and when last heard of on July 7th was on
active service, having been passed in Class At on
every medical examination.
Mr. P. J. Whetter, 115 Elder Road, Canton,
Cardiff, had diseased lungs, a cough, expectoration,
night sweats, and affected throat. After taking
Stevens' Consumption Cure was able to go with
the Expeditionary Force to France in 191 5, and
was still serving his King and Country when last
heard of in September.
Mr. Sydney Skipworth, 7 Ritches Road, Har-
ringay, N., after operation for tubercular glands in
the Tottenham Hospital without success, appeared
to be in a dying condition when commencing
Stevens' treatment, was cured seven years ago,
and when last heard of, on September iist, was in
France serving his King and Country.
Mr. C. Ryden, 3 Regent Street, Teignmouth,
Devon, was sent home from Canada suffering from
Consumption, was cured by Stevens' Consumption
Cure.andwhen last heard of, in September, was still
keeping well, and serving with the Forces in Egypt.
Mr. E. Pratt, 29 Mansfield Street, Foss Islands
Road, York, was cured by Stevens' Consumption
Cure after Tuberculin, among other so-calU-d reme-
dies, had failed. When last heard from, on July
25th, had been serving nineteen months with the
British Expeditionary Force in France.
Mr. H. BuNCE, 2 Short Street, High Wycombe,
Bucks, recovered by the use of Stevens' Consump-
tion Cure after the usual remedies had failed to even
give relief, and when last heard of, on Sept. 2ist,
was still keeping quite well, serving with the Colours.
Mr. C. Larcombe, who lived at 35 Bath Street,
Chard, Somerset, after sufTcring from Consumption,
with a cough, expectoration, and aflected throat,
took the Stevens' treatment, was cured, and when
last heard of in September was still in the best of
health, serving with the Army in Egypt.
Mr. G. Sab!n, who lived at 2 Bestwood Road,
Hucknall Torkard, Notts, was .sufTering from
Consumption, bringing up a pint of sputum in
twenty-four hours, throat also affected. This was,
apparently, quite a hopeless cast, but, after being
treated by Stevens' Consumption Cure, he got well
enough to pass for active service with the British
Expeditionary Force in France, where he was sent
in Feb., 1915, and has been wounded three times.
Onis,
Address
pu AC If QTrVFWQ 204 & 206 Worple Road, Wimbledon,
^nAO. n. Oi£iV£illO, LONDON, S.W.19.
Page 168
CANADA IN KHAKI
THE
TWA DOGS
(not burns' twa)
By W. D. DODD (Canadian Field Artillery)
Illustrated by Byam ShaW
(An actual incident at a "Barn" Church Parade of the Canadians in France)
Ye blastit curs, hae ye nae grace,
Tae caper sae i' the sacred place?
Dae ye nae ken the man o' God,
Tae Heaven pointin' us the road?
Puir beasties, na, your canine souls>
Pent in skins as black as coals,
Canna thole that this auld shed,
Whaur likely ye were born an' bred.
An' chassit, whiles, the nimmle rats,
Or supped (I dinna think) on Spratts
Is noo the temple o' the sodgers.
An 'ither purgatory dodgers.
An' wad ye desecrate the legs
O' him wha Heaven's blessing begs?
Wha feels ye scrub agen his shanks,
An' slyly kicks your flittin' flanks.
Ye'll slip, I'll wager mony dollars,
Yon hauns ootstretched tae grup yer collars;
The deil's within ye baith, I trow ;
Ye gaur the Padre mop his brow.
Ay, noo you're catchit, graceless pair,
This nicht ye'll trouble us nae mair :
The Temple money-changers' fate
Is yours; outside ye noo maun wait.'
IN MEMORIAM OF A GOOD FELLOW
(Bdr. W. C. C. 11th Battery, C.F.A.. Killed in Action)
Poor old " Irish " — one of the best,
Like many another has "Gone West."
Rarely in Peace or War you'll find
A cheerier chap, or one so kind.
He knew no feai", and, what is more,
Scorning the deadlier side of war,
Endured its misery, hunger, cold.
With a smile that lit like a ray of gold
His mirthful, ever-welcome face —
With " Irish " there gloom fled the place.
And now, alas 1 he is no more —
On earth at least, though a brighter shore
Has welcomed to its endless day
The boy who cheered our weary way.
And this is no mean epitaph :
"Through dreary days he made us laugh.
Eyes RIGHT!
AND HAIR RIGHT
IF YOU USE
TOZANA
HAIR FOOD
TOZANA is the perfect Tonic FIXING CREAM
which controls the most stubborn hair
without makins: it harsh or pulling it out.
Removes scurf and dandruff. No oil or
grease to soil the hat.
Of All ChomUU, Stores. Hairdreuars and CaQteena —
1/-, 2/-, 3/6, 5/- (iniaHdZ
TOZANA. 257 Gray's Inn Road. London, W.C.I.
f^
^
For Heartburn,
Flatulence, Acidity, &c.
Some years ago Messrs. S.avory & Moore obtained posses-
sion of a formula by the celebrated Dr. Jenner for a lozenee
possessing remarkable power to absorb acidity in the stomach.
They confidently recommend these lozenges, of which they
are the sole manufacturers, as a safe and reliable remedy for
Heartburn, Flatulence, Acidity, and all digestive disorders.
One or two lozenges give immediate relief, even in the worst
cases, and taken t«fore a meal prevent those distressing
symptoms due to indigestion which so frequently follow.
Thousands of .Suffer«rs testify that they have derived more
benefit from these lozenges than from any other remedy.
They are pleasant to take and quite harmless.
Boumemoolh,
" I Am very glad T ' ^a1 of Dr. Jenner '» .Mnorbent l.oMngcs,
for 1 found Ibem s- :<.it I iminvd>A(e]y secured A liirge hoxt
and now after a ^ "**^'l use of them 1 can tnittitully say
they have done ai. i;ood than anything; else 1 hare
tried for Hcartburr. :>'. They have saved me from R
good many sleepier - .:tateful that you are at liberty to
tise this testimontut if yuu cJiuo;,c" — K.F.
Boxes 1/3, 3/- and 5/-. of ail Chemists.
A FRBE 8AMPLK
of the lozenges will be sent on application. Mention this
publication, and address: — Savory St M(X)RK, Ltd.,
Chemists to the King, 143a, New Bond St., London, W. i.
DR. JENNER'S
ABSORBENT LOZENGES
NOW
How
to
Study
.MrniNC
/ELECTRKTTY
ENGINEERING
I MATHEMATICS
DRAUGHTSMANSHIP
I CIVIL ENGINEERING
BOILER INSPECTING
MARINE ENGINEERING
WIRELESS TELEGRAPHY
MOTOR ENGINEERING
STRUCTURAL ENGINEERING
SURVEYING AND LEVELLING
If yoa arv
Intereatedf
10 the
■indr of
sny one of
the*., ^ut.-
i
w.ll
Writs for the one you are Interested In.
SMe Age and send id. stamp to nver foslagi.
No statnp required with ovemeas applii-jitt'jns.
The BENNETT COLLEGE Dept 47). SHEFHELD.
Page 170
CANADA IN KUAKJ
LONDON GUIDES
By W. PETT RIDGE
Illustrated by TOM COTTRELL
[Carriage of District Railway at leisurely hour
of the day. Train Westward bound. At
Mark Lane three Canadian soldiers enter.
Passengers, having regarded each other
for some time past with semi-detached air,
concentrate eager attention on new
arrivals.]
First Canadian. [With relief.] Well,
that's done that! We shan't have to see
over the Tower of London again.
Old Gentleman. [Politely.] You found
your visit, gentlemen, I hope, replete with
interest. The Tower may be described as
the most notable fortress in the country. By
whom it was built, and when, we are not
completely informed, but there is reason to
believe that Julius Caesar
Lady. [With fish basket.] 'Ave you
young fellers climbed up the Moniment yet?
'The Tower may be described as the most notable fortress
in the country ' "
Oh, you mustn't miss the Moniment. It'll
be some'ing for you to talk about all the rest
of your life. Why, there's three 'undered and
forty-five steps to it, and it only runs you in
to thruppence each. [Earnestly.] I assure
you it's well worth the money, and it'll make
you realise for the first time what the -word
tired means. 'Ere we are 1 'Ere's the station.
I'm getting out, and I'll willingly direct
you.
[Train stops at Monument. Fish basket
Lady goes, evidently disappointed.
Canadian soldiers exchange smiles with
Girl Conductor.]
City Man. [Speaking with authority.] You
lads would do well to alight at Cannon Street,
and make a thorough exploration of the
neighbourhood around there. When I tell
you that within a couple of minutes you can
be looking at the Mansion
House, gazing at the Bank
of England, inspecting the
frescoes in the Royal Ex-
change, and seeing the
office where I started as a
junior clerk, I rather im-
agine I have said enough
to prove to you that this is
a great chance. Now, I'm
a busy man, but I'll sacri-
fice half an hour to showing
you around, and I'll ex-
plain everything in a way
that even the meanest com-
prehension
[He has to make a rush for
the doorway. Train,
after waiting for a frac-
tion of a second, goes
on.]
Old Gentleman. [Still
lecturing.] The^ visitor
should on no account omit
CANADA IN KHAKI
Page 171
the Beauchamp Tower, and the Bowyer
Tower, and St. Thomas's Tower, and, above
and beyond all, the Bloody [His attention
is called to the fact that ladies are present.]
Small Boy. [Shrilly, and with sudden cour-
age, to Canadians.] Gotany cigarette pic-
tures? [They shake heads negatively.] Got-
any badges? Gotany souveneers? Gotany
walnuts? Gotany anything to give away?
[Small Boy's Mother shakes him, and says
he will never go to heaven.]
Small Boy's Mother. [Apologetically.] I
don't know where he gets his manners from,
but I'll swear he don't get 'em from my side
of the family. You must know [confidentially]
that I was unlucky enough to marry beneath
me. My 'usband wasn't my equal ngt in
education, or persition, or bringin' up, he
wasn't. I was still-room maid at a club not
far from here, and if you three gentlemen
jump out at the station after the next, you'll
be able to 'ave a glance at the very spot where
he proposed to me. You go up Villiers
Street, you cross the Strand, you ask a copper
to direct you the way to
[Small Boy found grovelling on the floor,
making collection of discarded tram and
'bus tickets. His Mother promises to
break his blooming neck for him. Other
passengers join in the sport of giving
advice.]
Girl Conductor. [At Charing Cross.] Next
station for you three gentlemen. Going to the
Pay Office at Millbank, I s'pose?
First Canadian. Muriel, you are gifted
with second sight. You are a best ever,
Gladys. Dorothy, you beat ^he band.
Girl Conductor. Guess what my name
really is. [They guess.]
Other Passengers. [Excitedly.]
They ought to give a whole afternoon to
Westminister Abbey. There's enough at
Westminister Abbey to take up a good three
bowers. Why. Poets' Corner alone
If they fail to go for a trip on the river
they'll regret it. There's a boat leaves, or at
^ny rate used to
What they'd better do is to walk back
throug:b Whitehall, go into the National
Gallery, and
" They kissed, on leaving, with emphasis "
Never do for them to miss the statues in
Parliament Square. It ought to be some-
body's business to take them in hand, and
save them from wasting their time.
[Train prepares to stop at Westminster. The
three soldiers stand up.]
Girl Conductor. "Beatrice" is right, but it
took you a while to find out. When you
going to see these places they've been recom-
mending you to go to?
First Canadian. Trixie, we've already done
the whole caboodle. All the London sights,
from A to Z. And the prettiest and most
attractive we've encountered up to the present
is
Girl Conductor. [Innocently.] Which?
The Three. [In chorus.] You I
[They kiss her, on leaving, with emphasis.]
Girl Conductor. [Composedly, to waiting
travellers.] Passengers oflf the car first,
please I
FatfC 172
CANADA IN KJ-IAKi
BACK FROM FLANDERS
By ADRIAN ROSS
When we come back from Flanders —
And who can tell us when ? -
The wind wjll rouse the maple boughs
To greet the marching men ;
And green or red, up overhead
The maple leaves will know
The song we sang in Flanders,
Our song of long ago !
When we come back from Flanders,
We'll hardly know our home,
The hills and trees from seas to seas.
The falls that laugh in foam ;
The snow that shines between the pines.
The air that stirs your blood — /
Not like the world in Flanders,
A maze of mist and mud !
When we come back from Flanders,
With, all the fighting done, .
How good to stand in God's own land.
Untainted by the Hun !
To drink the air that's clear and rare.
And smells of leaves and grass —
And Ibse the fog of Flanders,
The reek of death and gas !
When we come back from Flanders—
Not all will come again —
There's many a mound in Flemish grouiu;
That lies above our slain ;
And here and there, our hearts know wheir.
A little cross to tell ;
They went through hell in Flanders,
To save the world from hell.
When we come back from Flanders,
We want no pomp and praise;
Enough to find among our kind
The dear old days and ways;
Enough if thus men say of us,
Who know us, and have seen —
That through the mire of Flanders
We kept our honour clean !
AT PEACE
By COLONEL LORNE ROSS
The calm of summer's evening
Falls soft on the slender mound,
While drooping flowers swaying
Waft sweet incense from the ground.
Peaceful at rest he slumbers.
Who fought for the Cause he loved,
One of the countless numbers
For Freedom to shed his blood.
He heard the voice of Empire
Sound clear on Alaska's height.
Calling her sons from afar
To join in the righteous fight.
Where sweeps the mighty Yukon
Through the land of eternal snow.
He sprang to the help of Britain
In battle against the foe.
He followed Duty's guidance
O'er wide continent and sea,
To the blood-stained fields of France
Where men battled to be free.
Amid the ruin and carnage,
The thunder of gun and shell.
Facing grim death with courage.
Fearless he fought and fell.
There where night's benediction
Breathes quiet o'er the silent sod.
Waiting the bless'd resurrection
He rests in peace with his God.
The Armao Press Limited, 66-68 W. CaadaB St., Toionto
THE COW PUNCHER
From the drawing bif Arthur Hemrng.
Illustrating "The Couinincher." by Sobert J. C Stead.
Published by The Musson Book Co., Limiled, Toronto.
•^.i.-
TELEPHONE No*:
4029.4030.4031.4032.
City.
4166 Central
Dock OfEce.
^v^^^^ li'^*^.
Deansgate,
MANCHESTER.
Telegraphic and Cable
Addreu:
•• NAUTICUS.
Manckester."
Code:
Scott'*. lOth Edition.
B.S. Manchester City.
REGULAR WEEKLY SAILINGS FROM
MANCHESTER TO CANADA.
Summer Season : QUEBEC AND MONTREAL.
Winter Season: HALIFAX. N.S.. & ST. JOHN. N.B.
AND
FORTNIGHTLY to PHILADELPHIA.
For particulars of Freights, etc., apply to
Owners: 108 Deansgate, Manchester,
OR
LONDON AGENCY : 95 Leadenhall St., E.G. BRADFORD : 36 Brook Street.
SHEFFIELD : 43 The Wicker. BIRMINGHAM : 6 Victoria Square.
AGENCIES IN CANADA AND U.S.A. :
HALIFAX ]
MONTREAL I Me«ar« Furness Withv & Co I td
PHILADELPHIA I "«""• '""™e»»' withy & eo., Ltd.
CHICAGO j
• TORONTO: R. Dawson Harlin?, 28 Wellingrton Street East.
QUEBEC : Wm. M, Macpherson, 53 Dalhousie Street.
ST. JOHN, N.B. : Messrs. Wm. Thomson & Co., Ltd.
THE BEST SERVICE TO AND FROM CANADA.
J. R. GAUNT
& SON, Ltd.,
53 Conduit Street, Bond Street,
LONDON. W.
Badge, Button, Medal, Sword,
and Accoutrement Manufacturers
REGIMENTAL JEWELLERY
of the Highest Quality, Correctly Designed & Modelled.
15-ct. GOLD AND ENAMEL BROOCHES.
Sizei u illuitrated from 42/- each.
We hold diet for badges for nearly every Regiment in the
Britiih Army, including Indian, Canadian, New Zealand,
and South African Regiments.
Manufacturers of all British and Colonial
MINIATURE MEDALS,
DECORATIONS, and RIBBONS,
And of the Allied Forces.
BADGES and MEDALS for SOCIETIES,
CLUBS, and for all PURPOSES.
Manufacturers to His Majesty's Government.
Establl he-H 2 ;0 Years.
Uluslralions and Prices on Application.
The Best Gift
THE
to your friends abroad,
or to those on active
service on land or seas is
DAILY MIRROR
Overseas Weekly Edition
I
'hie Dailv Mirmr
OVERSEAS WEEK-I-Y EDITION
ziiri\.p.ia INTACT IV rPAvci.
It contains the six issues
of "The Daily Mirror"
bound together in a
pictorial cover.
It is the best history
of the War in News
and Pictures.
If you are unable to obtain a copy regularly from your
Newsagent, send a subscription order with cheque or
postal order direct to the manager.
New Subscriotion Rates.
To Canada for 6 months, post free
To all other parts of the World ...
::;
16/6
17/6
THE MANAGER
THE OVERSEAS WEEKLY MIRROR,
23-29 Eouverie Street, London, E.C.4.
Explaining '' Feminine Charm "
By MILLICENT BROWN
Illustrated by PENRHYN STAN LAWS
I NOTICED a curious thing re-
cently in a railway train. A
nicely-dressed woman entered,
and took a seat beside
me. I saw that every-
one was looking at her
— staring in fact.
what?'* I exclaimed, horrified. Again
she laughed, and replied, "Sounds
shocking, doesn't it? But I will ex-
plain. Instead of using
J jWj^ face creams, I use only
^f^S^^^J^f^f^ P"*^^ mercolized wax,
But not
fensively y
understand,
caught my-
self doing
the same
thing. It
was impos-
sible to help
it. Certainly
it was not
her beauty
of feature
that held
the eyes of
all, nor was
it her cos-
tume. But there
was something
about her face
and expression
— I risked it,
and spoke.
"Would you mind tell-
ing me," I said, ^' how
you keep your com-
plexion so dazzlingly
pure ? You won't think
me impertinent, but you seem to be
over thirty, aren't you ? And yet you
haven't a line in your face, and your
cheeks are quite peach-like. Do tell me
how you do it." She laughed, quite
good-naturedly. "Oh, that's very easy,"
she said ; " I remove my skin." " You
rocurable at
ny chemist's.
The wax has a
gentle absor-
bent action
which takes
up and re-
moves the
soiled and
weather-
beaten
outer film-
rskin, with-
out pain,
irritation, or
discomfort,
thus reveal-
ing the real
complexion
fresh and clear
underneath.
Every woman
has a beautiful
complexion
underneath, you know.
Then, to keep my face
firm and free from
wrinkles, I merely in-
dulge in a sparkling
face bath two or three times a
week, which I prepare by dissolv-
ing a little st3'mol (obtained at the
chemist's) in a bowl of warm water.
This also keeps away those unpleas-
ant little blackheads, and prevents
'shine.'"
Your Future Depends on Yourself !
Be a
Private Secretary
'J here is Ko Fim r Oftningjor u
Young Man "r Woman than our
Secretariat Coursi-, whicU carries
ivith it a Guarantee of a Good
Position.
The demand for trained men as Private
Secretaries in Literary, Commercial,
P liiical and C)ther circles was never
greater than at the present tini", and
IS constantly jirowing. Tlie position of
the Private Secretary is uni<,)ue — short
hour-, congenial occupation, liberal
>a:ary, excellent prospects, permanent
employment, and undoubted social
status. A Univer-ily Education is
NOT necessary to secure these advan-
tages. Anyone of average ability can easily qualify in a few weeks
for a splendid pi'siiion AM) GKT IT.
Salaries up to £1,000 per annum
Appoiiuinents already secured in the service of the Duke of
Grafton, Earl Strafford, ' uchess of Sutherland, Lord Swaythling,
Sir F. burdett, the ex Lord Mayor of London, etc. etc.
Tlie f^ame success may he your own.
A Private Sf-.rving with the Royal Engineers writes : — " I find
the --tudy oV your 'New Rapid' Shor hand Lessons a profitable
means of beguiling the rest hours, as I have learned this subject in
dug-outs during the Great Push on the Sonime."
Mr. Cyril F. W. Andrews, on completing our Correspondence
Course, was immediately appointed to a responsible position with
the Hritish Embassy at Bordciuix.
Miss Ethel New, after eight weeks' study, became secretary to a
well-known Harle>| Street physician.
Mr. C. H. Canning, on the completion of our Secretarial Course,
secured a brilliant position, and now earns ^700 per annum.
Miss Dorothy Clark, after seven weeks' sludv, was appointed
private secretary to a consulting engineer and Member of Parlia-
ment at a salary of j(i 156 per annum.
Mr. H. V. Rickard, after a few weeks' study, was appointed
Secretary to a Member of Parliament in London, and now, at the
age of 24, earns .£400 per annum.
Write fo.i.ty for our Free Handbook and epn Testitnonials. fvith
full inji^! mutton, sJionini' how to become a Private Secretary.
Principal, Holborn Hall College, 640 Holbom Hall, London, W.C*
li>-TAi;i-iSHKl) 35 VKARS.
ALL INVESTORS
should read the introductory article to
the October 1917 Quarterly Supplement of
The 100 Best Investments
which deals fully and frankly with the present
position and outlook of affairs from the point
of view of the investor, large or small. The
Quarterly Supplements contain up-to-date
details of 100 specially-selected securities,
covering the whole available field of invest-
ment— from War Loans to Ordinary Shares
in Industrial Companies — particulars of
further investments considered worthy of
attention, a number of useful tables and
hints of value to everyone concerned with
the remunerative employment of capital.
The Annual Volume - - Price Is.
(Published in July.)
Quarterly Supplements - Price 4d.
(Published Jk&cuy, April >T>d October.)
Post jree on riceipt of remittance to the Publishers :
The BRITISH. FOREIGN & COLONIAL
CORPORATION, LIMITED,
Investment Bankers.
57 BISHOPSGATE. LONDON. E.C.2.
^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiim uiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii[|
FREE TO MOTHERS
SEND FOR FRUE CATAI.OGUS.
Fa^hion^ Bulletin of latesi London and Paris Model
Furs, Coal.s, Costumes, Skirts. Corsets, etc. Pattern
book of Latest Materials Post Free.
"NATIONAL
BABY CATALOGUE,'
containing great values
in Layettes, Shortening
bGis, Cots.and all Nursery
Requisites, srnt tree on
tefiuest.
FINLAY'S
guarantee your
money back in case
of dissatisfaction.
j From i ^
j 15/11 y
F.S,
These Skirts and Gowns
can be instantly increased
J to 16 inches without
losing shape. Can be
worn as ordinary garment
after maternity.
Combined Maternity.
Nurs ng and Al dominal
Bel ed Corset. .Most
graceful, hygienic,
and serviceable.
Retommended by th^
cUf^a.i-n Medical Profession as
. t-noben. absolutely indi^pens-
lailor-made to measure able. tate sise re-
by experts. quired ivhen ordering.
According to material
chosen.
From
\ Retail Warehouse : Ift.^ Houlds- =
worth St. (top Oldham St.), =
Manchester. H
LONDON 47 DUKE ST.. W.l =
(facing Se'fridtfe s). ^
nllllllllllllltlllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll<-
I Address Lady'
I M anageress-
'INLAYS
DON'T HAVE AN
OPERATION FOR RUPTURE
Doctors, Surgeons, Nurses and Hospital Staffs are already overworked
in caring for our wounded fighting men and those civilians who are
really ill. Don*t ask them to operate on you for rupture. Operations
ate exp nsive both in money and time (both of
which we should save to the utmost), and beside
they are not always successful.
The Kice Method has cured thousands in the r
own hom^^s while fo'lowing their own occnp;i
ti&ns, without pam or loss of time anrl at slight
expense. It has cured after two operations have
failed. Try il. Among those it has lured are
Mr. H. Denning, Heathfield Nursery, Hamp-
ton, Middlesex (ruptured from ch'ldhood); Rev.
T. Brown, i6 Kimberley Drive. Gt. Crosby.
Liverpool (had double rupture twtlve years);
Mrs. A. Gray, c/o Mrs. Vibert, 32 Syvedon
Road, Tooting Junction, S.VV. (aged 73 ye^rs^
ruptured twe- ty-two years); and Mrs Austin_
I DoUilas Street, Osniaston Road, Derby (rup.
MR. H. PENNING. j^j.^.^ twenty five )ears, t^\o operations failed).
The Rice Appliances have recently obtained the highest awards at
the Iniernational Kxposition of -Arts and Indus ri'S at Barcelona,
leceivmg the Diploma, Golden Palm Leaves, and Gold Medal.
FREE TO THE RUPTURED.
A free trial of tliis famous home cure will be sent free to anyone who is ruptured
or who knows of any person ruptured, if the following Coupon is sent at once.
COUPON <B. 1751).
Cut out and post to WM. S. RICE, ^,td. (G.P.O. Box No. 5), 8 and 9
Stonecutter Stre t. London, E.C.4.
yime ruptured? Age
Rif;h!, left or both sides or navel ?
Name
Address
Canada in Kbaki, London (li 1750-
xxxiii
Is Your Soldier Boy
Lonely ?
Books are Friends — Send Him a Book
THE French Government, in listing articles which men should supply themselves with, put
down books as one of the first necessities. We at home cannot imagine the conditions
under which our boys live in the trenches. Sometimes, for days and weeks, they are abso-
lutely idle. Some men go insane, simply through the endless boredom of sitting in the
trenches, waiting to attack or to be attacked. As a result, they call for books, books — good
books to read. Our Allies have supplied their soldiers and sailors with millions of books.
We must do as much. We cannot, we must not, allow the morale of our men to be lowered.
Then, too, wounded men, convalescent men, must be supplied with good books. Tliese
boys, many of them maimed for life, are entitled to every comfort we at home can supply.
Will you not help?
Below is a list of books most suitable for sending overseas — see that one or more are
included in your boy's next box. The publishers will gladly send books direct to your boy,
specially packed and postpaid, on receipt of published price. Yes! with your own card
inclosed, if you wish it.
PUBLISHED BY
THE MUSSON BOOK CO., LIMITED
TORONTO, - ONT.
THE COW PUNCHER. By Robert J. C.
Stead Cloth $
THE WINDS OF CHANCE. By Rex Beach
Cloth, Jiet
THE UNPARDONABLE SIN. By Rupert
Hughes Cloth, net
FOES. By Mary Johnston Cloth, net
THE MAN FROM BAR— 20. By Clarence
E. Mulford Cloth
MAM'SELLE JO. By Harriet T. Comstock
Cloth
SHANDYGAFF.
By Christopher
By Zane Grey Cloth
Morley
Cloth
THE U. P. TRAIL.
THE HIGH HEART. By Basil King Cloth
THE BEST SHORT STORIES OF 1917.
Edited by Edward J. O'Brien — Cloth, net
.50
.50
.50
.50
.40
.40
.40
.50
.50
1.60
PUBLISHED BY
HODDER & STOUGHTON LIMITED
TORONTO, - ONT.
WHILE PARIS LAUGHED. By Leonard
Merrick Cloth 1.50
LORD TONY'S WIFE. By Baroness Orczy
Cloth 1.35
THE HUNTRESS. By Hulbert Footner.
Cloth 1.25
THREE OF HEARTS. By Berta Ruck
Cloth 1.35
HIS LAST BOW. By Sir Arthur Conan
Doyle Cloth 1.35
THE POMP OF YESTERDAY. By Joseph
Hocking Cloth 1.25
THE SILENT LEGION. By J. E. Buckrose
Cloth 1.50
GREENMANTLE. By John Buchan Cloth .75
ROUGH RHYMES OF A PADRE. By
"Woodbine Willie" Cloth 1.00
THE HUMAN TOUCH. By "Sapper". Cloth 1.40
Three New Fiction Leaders
BOONE
STOP
By HOMER CROY.
Here is a new book that is
acclaimed by the press to be
another ' ' Huckleberry Finn, ' '
a book that is setting every-
one talking — that will be one
of the biggest sellers. Homer
Croy is an author with a sense
of humour and has told the
story of Cleve Seed with a
naive humour that is fresh
and new. John Nicholas Bef-
fel of the Chicago Herald
Examiner says:
"Somehow I didn't think
Homer Croy could do it, but
he's gone and rung the bell
with a novel, 'Boone Stop.'
And after sounding the gong,
Homer didn't wait to see
whether people would buy the
book, but started for Prance.
Soon a dozen Missouri com-
munities will lie claiming the
honour of having given him to
the world."
Frontispiece, Cloth, $1.50 net.
SYLVIA
SCARLETT
By COMPTON MAC-
KENZIE.
Compton Mackenzie is back
again — strong. You remem-
ber the sales you had with
' ' Carnival ' ' ? Well, this book
is another "Carnival." In it
the author has given a mar-
vellous story, full of colour
and life. He portrays the ad-
venturous career of a young
girl born in France of half
English and half French par-
entage. With her you go
through all the excitement of
London life, sometimes among
the rich — but always sur-
rounded with the strong
glamour of adventure that
follows this new heroine wher-
ever she goes, making her in-
teresting to everyone and
loved by many.
$1.60 net.
LANDS'
END
By WILBUR DANIEL
STEELE.
Here are stories of the Por-
tuguese fisherman of Cape
Cod, written by one of the
best short story writers Amer-
ica has to-day. He has given
pictures of those men and
women who come in constant
contact with the sea. Some-
times with a haunted ship for
a background, sometimes with
the village itself or a small
cottage, the stories of their
lives are acted out. There was
a strange woman who came to
die where she could be within
the sound of the buoy -bell on
the rocks, but she found her
lover and so — lived. On every
page is a brilliant picture of
this fantastic people who fol-
low a trade that is as old as
the world.
Frontispiece, $1.35 net.
Songs from the Trenches
Edited by HERBERT ADAMS GIBBONS.
By Them.selves — the American soldiers in Prance. In
tliese |)oeins. from the thousand submitted to the New York
Herald's recent competition, we get many vivid flashes of the
.soul of the American Expeditionary Force. Tlie Iwok is more
than a collection of poems, a few of which are brilliant and all
of which are interesting. It is a message from the American
soldiers abroad to the home folks, written on the deck of
transports, in ?''rcnch villages, in muddy camps, in the
trenclies. Iwside cannon, or in hospitals. Every mother and
fatlier in the States should own a copy of this book.
Cloth, $1.25 net.
ELEMENTS OF
NAVIGATION
By WILLIAM J. HENDERSON
A new edition of a book
which has always brought
business. In previous edi-
tions you have sold hundreds
of copies, you will do so again,
for not only has it been print-
ed from new type but it has
been entirely revisejl and eon-
tains all the information that
students of navigation are
anxious to know.
Illustrated, Cloth, $1.25 net.
THE MUSSON BOOK COMPANY, LIMITED, TORONTO
IMPORTANT!
THE KAISER AS 1 KNOW HIM
By ARTHUR N. DAVIS
Vivid pen-pietures of the Great Enemy of Demoeracy in action, painted by a man who was
for fifteen years the German Kaiser's personal dentist. The royal patient has come to Doctor
Davis's office in the royal automobile, sat like any civilian in Doctor Davis's office chair, and
had his average human teeth scraped and drilled, filled and pounded, like any other man. The
author also has made professional visits not only to the palace, but during the war and up to
a date considerably after the entrance of the United States into the world-struggle has been at
the German Great Headquarters, four times on the western front and twice on the eastern.
During this long period the professional relation has grown into a personal acquaintance — not
quite to call it an intimacy. No other American of any class or position has approached such a
degree of personal contact with the Emperor of Germany.
With amazing candour, sometimes for hours at a stretch, the Kaiser has discussed with
Doctor Davis the events and developments of world politics, tendencies of human progress, per-
sonalities high and low, not only in Germany and other nations of Europe and Asia, but
especially in America. Roosevelt, Taft, Hughes, Wilson — all have been the subjects of the
most unrestrained frankness of comment upon the lips of the master of Germany. The relations
of the German Empire with England, Prance, Russia, Austria, Belgium, and particularly with
the United States, in peace and war, have been talked about by the Kaiser in his conversations
with Doctor Davis without reserve.
The book throws blinding light upon the question of the Kaiser's responsibility for the
war, upon his fore-knowledge of the destruction of the "Lusitania," upon the part attempted
by the German government in the Presidential election of 1916, upon the Kaiser's own idea
that "America shall pay the bills for this war" — upon the thousand and one vital ques-
tions to which Canadians want the answer.
Cloth
$2.00 Net
SPLENDID NEW FALL JUVENILES
SANDSY
HIMSELF
By
GARDNER HUNTING
Author of •'^andsy's Pal"
Do you remember Sandsy and
Larry, the boy "with the straw-
berry eyesf" Here they are in
new adventures in the country
that are even more stirring than
in the former book. Young read-
ers will not fail to enjoy reading
of their favourites in new sur-
roundings.
/((.<. Clolh, $\.2ri net.
YOUNG ALASKANS
In The FAR NORTH
By
EMERSON HOUGH
Author of the "Toung Alaskam"
Series
Here is a splendid adventure
book for boys, the fourth in this
extremely popular series. The
three lads start on an exploring
trip with a big explorer. Start-
ing from Athabasca up the Mac-
kenzie River they take in the
Yukon and Klondike country,
meeting with many adventures on
the way.
nil. Cloth, $1.25 net.
THE SECOND
BUBBLE BOOK
Bv
RALPH MAYHEW and
BXTROES JOHNSON
Make a hit with the kiddies.
Lead them into the happy realms
created by this "Books That
Sing" series. Columbia records
are enclosed between the pages of
each story and can be taken out
and played on the phonograph, so
that the children can hear sung
plainlv and distinctly the songs
of "Simple Simon, """Little Bo-
Peep, "and " Old King Cole. ' '
IUt4.ilralrit by Khoda Chase.
$1.00 net.
THE MUSSON BOOK COMPANY, LIMITED, TORONTO
The Novels of Leonard Merrick
q HODDER & STOUGHTON are publishing a Uniform Edition of the NOVELS AND STORIES
OF LEONARD MERRICK at $L50 net eaeh volume, which will appeal to all booklovers.
CONRAD IN QUEST OF HIS YOUTH (with an Introduction by J. M. Barrie), WHILE PARIS
LAUGHED (a New Book) and WHEN LOVE FLIES OUT O' THE WINDOW (with an Intro-
duction by W. Robertson Nicoll) are already published. THE QUAINT COMPANIONS (with
an Introduction by H. G. Wells) and CYNTHIA (with an Introduction by Maurice Hewlett)
will be ready immediately. Other volumes will be announced later.
HODDER & STOUGHTON also draxo attention to the following very important Works : —
<I SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE'S CLASSIC
HISTORY ^FjrHE_WAR, of which the first three
volumes^ have been published, viz., THE BRITISH
CAMPAIGN IN FRANCE AND FLANDERS. Vol. 1.,
1914 (Third Edition); Vol. 11.. 1915 (Second Edi-
tion); Vol. 111., 1916 (Just Published). Each volume
contains Maps, Diagrams. $2.00 net.
€]1 Also SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE'S fascinating
book on "life on the 'other side," " entitled, THE NEW
REVELATION, of which a third large edition is now
printing. $1.00 net.
f| ROBERT BLATCHFORD in GENERAL VON
SNEAK has written the best propagandist book about
thTs War, and no wonder it is in great demand. "1 say
to every man and every woman, read this book." —
Major Haldane Macfall. "This book should be in
every hand." — Daily Mail. Third Edition, $1.00 net.
H THE CRIME, by the famous Author of J' ACCUSE
(two volumes, $2.50 net each), a work which Punch
says: "Will stand for centuries."
q PROFESSOR JOHN ADAMS of the University of
London has secured the services of a group of special-
ist contributors to a volume entitled THE NEW
TEACHING. "It is essential," he states, "that we
should make ourselves accustomed with what is being
done and planned in the teaching of the various ele-
ments of the school curriculum." This is one of the
niost important educational works of our time and
every teacher should see it. $2.50 net.
<I WAR PENSIONS AND ALLOWANCES, by J. M.
HODGE, MP., and T. H. GARSIDE. One of the most
useful books published during the War. It deals with
the ^vhole question of war pensions and allowances in
an authoritative and instructive manner, and there is
an index which enables anyone to find the reference
to any particular point at once. $2.00.
€1 Almost everyone has heard of LAURENCE
BINYON^ New Book, FOR DAUNTLESS^FRANCE;
which was reviewed so enthusiastically on France s
Day. This beautiful book is the official story of the
work done by Britain for the French wounded. It is
a wonderful story, wonderfully told. Illustrated. $1.50.
H THE HARDEST PART is a most outspoken book
by J. A. STUDDERT KENNEDY. M.C, C.F., author of
that remarkable little book. "Rough Rhymes of a
Padre." which is selling by thousands. " 'What 1
want to know. Padre,' he said, 'is, what is God like?
That is your real business. Padre; you ought to know."
$1.50
<| The New Book by the author of "In the Northern
Mists" is entitled NAVAL INTELLIGENCE. It is al-
ready in its second large edition. "He is as pithy and
picturesque an expounder of life in the Royal Navy in
War time as one could wish to sit under. His ward-
room dialogues are absolutely top-hole." — Morning
Post. $1.35.
Cjl Her Majesty the Queen has been graciously pleased
to accept a copy of S. H. LEEDER'S magnificently
illustrated new work THE MODERN SONS OF TTIE
PHARAOHS. One of the most important books on
Egyptian life of to-day. Illustrated. $5.00.
CP If you want to know what goes on in Germany's
so-called Parliament. BEHIND THE SCENES AT THE
REICHSTAG; Sixteen Years of Parliamentary Life in
Germany, by the ABBE E. WETTERLE. is one of the
most informing books published. Illustrated. $1.50.
€][ A. E. STILWELL expounds a most remarkable
scheme in THE GREAT PLAN: How to Pay for the
War. The author provides for' the Nations to pay all
War debts within fifteen months and to pay all debts
between nations in one hour, and shows how the na-
tions can return to a speedy pre-war taxation. $1.00.
HODDER & STOUGHTON LIMITED. Publishers. TORONTO. ONT.
"CANADIAN OFFICER"
"My line in normal times is buying and
selling real estate in the Nor'- West Province.
For the last year or so I've been 'pros-
pecting' some likely plots in Flanders. . . .
Some trail!
"One cannot exactly claim perfect drainage or
restful home life, but at present, well . . . there
are a few good pals to meet, and when one
lights up an Army Club Cigarette there are
worse places than a dug-out perhaps . . . ' Gee
Whiz!* But an 'Army Club' is a real
' chummy ' Cigarette, and welcome every time ! ! "
" OAVANDER'S
ARMY CLUB
Sold by nU the leading Tobacconists and
in alt the Canteens at home and abroad.
20 for lid. 50 for 2/3. 100 for 4/6.
West End Cinema Theatre
COVENTRY STREET, PICCADILLY CIRCUS, W.C.
Weekdays, 2 tiU 11. Sundays, 6 till 11.
TO WOUNDED SOLDIERS AND SAILORS :
Don't hesitate to come in here and spend a
pleasant hour. It costs nothing 1
I am doing you no favour — on the contrary, you
are honouring me with your company.
Walk, hop, crawl, or be carried in as though
the theatre belonged to you — it does, so
long as I am its Proprietor I
I have already entertained more than 15,000
Wounded Boys, and have arranged matinees
which have benefited charities to the extent
of over £7,000, for which I thank my
Patrons for allowing me Jo help towards
the cheering up of our Boys in Blue.
G. F. SEXTON.
C. F. SEXTON. SoU Ptapriatoi.
Some Forthcoming Attractions :
"THE GAY LORD QUEX.*
"THE QUESTION."
"A GAMBLE FOR LOVE."
" DADDY."
"JACK AND THE
BEANSTALK.'
"THE WHIP."
"MY LADY'S DRESS."
"HOLY ORDERS."
"A LAUGHING CAVALIER.
"MASTER OF MEN."
"DOMBEY & SON."
"RICHARD THE BRAZEN."
GRAND ORCHESTRA-DAINTY TEAS-LUXURIOUS SURROUNDINGS.
CORYTON8