Skip to main content

Full text of "On the fringe of the great fight"

See other formats


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 


COLONEL  GEORGE  G.    NASMITH,   C.M.G. 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF 
THE  GREAT  FIGHT 


By 

COLONEL  GEORGE  G.  NASMITH,  C.M.G. 


McC  LELLAND,  GOODCHILD    &    STEWART 
PUBLISHERS          ::          ::          ::         TORONTO 


N3 


COPYRIGHT,  CANADA,  1917 
MCCLELLAND,  GOODCHILD  &  STEWART,  LIMITED 

••;  •••      TORONTO  .    ! 


PRINTED  IN  CANADA 


TO 
MY  WAR  BRIDE 


M15379 


IN  FLANDERS  FIELDS 

In  Flanders  fields  the  poppies  grow, 
Between  the  crosses,  row  on  row, 
That  mark  our  place,  and  in  the  sky 
The  larks  still  bravely  singing  fly, 
Scarce  heard  amid  the  guns  below. 

We  are  the  dead,  short  days  ago 
We  lived,  felt  dawn,  saw  sunsets  glow, 
Loved  and  were  loved,  and  now  we  lie 
In  Flanders  fields. 

Take  up  our  quarrel  with  the  foe. 
To  you  from  failing  hands  we  throw 
The  torch :  be  yours  to  hold  it  high. 
If  ye  break  faith  with  us  who  die 
We  shall  not  sleep,  though  poppies  blow 
In  Flanders  fields. 

JOHN  MACCRAE, 

(Lt-Col.) 


By  permission  of  the  author. 


vn 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 
PREFACE  Xl 


CHAPTER  I. 

ON  THE  ROAD  TO  A  GREAT  ADVENTURE 1 

CHAPTER  II. 

ON  SALISBURY  PLAINS 11 

CHAPTER  III. 

EARLY  WAR  DAYS  IN  LONDON 32 

CHAPTER  IV. 

DAYS  WHEN  THINGS  WENT  WRONG 46 

CHAPTER  V. 

THE  LOST  CANADIAN  LABORATORY 62 

CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  DAYS  BEFORE  YPRES 70 

CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  SECOND  BATTLE  OF  YPRES 83 

ix 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  AFTERMATH  OF  THE  GAS 107 

CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  MEDICAL  ORGANIZATION  OF  THE  BRITISH  ARMY   .        .        125 

CHAPTER  X. 

KEEPING  THE  BRITISH  SOLDIER  FIT 134 

I 

CHAPTER  XI. 

LABORATORY  WORK  IN  THE  FIELD 152 

CHAPTER  XII. 

SKETCHES  FROM  A  LABORATORY  WINDOW          ....        169 

s 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

PARIS  IN  WAR  TIME 189 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

TABLE  TALK  AT  A  FLANDERS  MESS 211 

CHAPTER  XV. 

ON  THE  BELGIAN  BORDER  230 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Colonel  George  G.  Nasmith,  C.M.G.  .      .  Frontispiece 
Mechanical  Transports  in  Salisbury  Floods  .      .        16 

Major-General  M.  S.  Mercer,  C.B 64 

German  Barrage  Fire  at  Night 104 

French    Soldiers    Advancing    under    Cover    of 

Liquid   Fire .176 

The  Camouflage 208 

uHome,  Sweet  Home"— Mud  Terrace     ...     232 
British  Tanks  as  Used  in  the  Flanders  Offensive     248 


XI 


PREFACE 

On  April  22nd,  1915,  the  writer,  in  company  with 
Major  Rankin,  saw  the  Germans  launch  their  first  gas 
attack  near  St.  Julien  upon  the  section  of  the  line  held 
by  the  French  colonial  troops  and  the  first  Canadian 
division. 

This  book  was  written  primarily  for  the  purpose 
of  recording  this  as  well  as  some  of  the  other  exper- 
iences of  the  first  Canadian  division  as  seen  from  the 
unusual  angle  of  a  scientist,  in  the  course  of  18,000  miles 
of  travel  in  the  front  line  area.  It  had  the  secondary 
object  of  giving  the  average  reader  some  insight  into 
what  goes  on  behind  the  lines,  and  the  means  employed 
to  maintain  the  health  and  efficiency  of  the  British  and 
Canadian  soldiers  in  the  field. 

No  attempt  has  been  made  to  deal  with  the  work 
of  the  real  fighting  men  on  land  and  in  the  air;  others 
far  better  qualified  than  I  are  doing  that. 

If  the  book  has  no  other  merit,  it  has,  at  least,  that 
of  being  literally  true. 


Xlll 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 


CHAPTER  I.        /.%:,.:>  V-- 

ON  THE  ROAD  TO  A  GREAT  ADVENTURE. 

IT  began  with  a  wish.  That  takes  me  back  to  a 
pleasant  day  in  early  August,  1914,  and  a  verandah 
at  Ravenscrag,  Muskoka — a  broad,  cool,  verandah  over- 
looking dancing  dark  waters.  A  light  breeze  stirred 
the  leaves  and  gently  wafted  to  us  the  smell  of  the  pines 
and  the  woods,  mingled  with  the  sweet  odours  of  the 
scented  geranium,  verbena,  and  nicotine  in  the  rock-girt 
garden.  But  my  mind  was  far  removed  from  the  peace- 
fulness  of  my  immediate  surroundings :  the  newspaper 
I  held  in  my  hand  was  filled  with  kaleidoscopic  de- 
scriptions of  the  great  European  tumult.  Unconscious- 
ly I  voiced  aloud  the  thought  that  was  uppermost  in  my 
mind:  "I  would  gladly  give  ten  years  of  my  life  if  I 
could  serve  my  country  in  this  war."  "Do  not  say  that," 
warned  my  hostess,  looking  up  from  her  magazine,  "for 
everything  comes  to  you  on  a  wish,"  and  nothing  more 
was  said  of  the  matter  at  the  time. 

That  day  was  a  very  quiet  one  with  our  little  house- 
party.  We  made  our  usual  launch  trip  through  the 
lakes  but  nobody  talked  much.  Each  was  busy  with 
his  own  thoughts,  wondering  what  England  could  do 
in  the  great  emergency.  Could  she,  or  could  she  not, 
save  France  from  the  invading  hosts  of  Germany? 
And  deeper  in  each  mind  was  the  unspoken  fear,  "Per- 
haps it  is  already  too  late  to  save  France — perhaps,  even 
now,  the  question  is  'Can  England  save  herself  ?' ' 

1 
2 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

The  great  depression  in  men's  minds  during  those  early 
days  of  the  war  when  the  bottom  seemed  to  have 
dropped  out  of  life  and  men  strove  to  grasp  at  some- 
thing upon  which  to  reconstruct  a  new  system  of 
thought  and  life  and  work,  had  enveloped  us  like  a  chill 
evening  mist. 

Those  were  ghastly  days.  While  France,  Russia 
and  England  were  feverishly  mobilizing,  the  brave 
little  force  of  Belgians  was  being  steadily  rolled  up 
by  the  perfectly  equipped  German  war  machine  and  the 
road  to  France  hourly  becoming  easier.  England  had 
commissioned  K.  of  K.  to  gather  together  a  civilian 
army  of  three  million  men,  and  Canada  had  called  for 
one  division  to  be  mobilized  at  Valcartier  Camp,  a 
place  somewhere  in  the  Laurentian  Hills  near  the  city 
of  Quebec.  Little  did  any  of  us  dream  how  prophetic 
was  to  be  that  apparently  chance  remark  of  our  hostess. 
But  the  first  greeting  from  the  maid  when  we  reached 
home  that  evening  was,  "There  is  a  long  distance  call 
for  you,  sir."  The  Minister  of  Militia  had  asked  me 
to  report  in  Ottawa  immediately.  Next  morning  I 
waved  my  friends,  "Au  revoir."  That  return  was  far 
from  being  as  speedy  as  we  expected,  for  my  wish 
very  shortly  came  true. 

The  greeting  of  the  Minister  of  Militia,  Sir  Sam 
Hughes,  as  he  turned  from  the  desk  where  he  sat  in 
shirt-sleeves,  with  typewriters  on  all  sides  of  him,  was 
a  cordial  handshake  and  a  slap  on  the  back.  Would  I 
go  down  to  the  new  camp  at  Valcartier  and  look  after 
the  purification  of  the  water  supply?  I  was  delighted 
to  get  the  chance. 

2 


ON  THE  ROAD  TO  A  GREAT  ADVENTURE 

A  short  wait  at  the  office  gave  me  a  splendid  oppor- 
tunity of  seeing  a  military  headquarters  office  in  opera- 
tion. Officers  of  all  ranks,  from  Generals  to  Majors, 
hurried  in  one  after  another  to  obtain  permission  to  do 
this  or  that;  prominent  men  anxious  to  do  anything 
they  might  to  assist  in  the  great  crisis,  crowded  the 
office.  Telephone  conversations,  telegrams,  cables,  in- 
terviews, dictation  of  letters,  reading  of  letters  aloud — 
to  watch  or  listen  to  the  incessant  commingling  of  all 
these,  with  the  Minister  of  Militia  as  the  centre  of 
energy,  was  a  unique  experience  for  me.  Sir  Sam 
cracked  jokes,  dictated  letters,  swore  at  the  telephone 
operator,  and  carried  on  conversation  with  a  number 
of  persons — all  at  the  same  time.  It  was  a  marvellous 
demonstration  of  what  a  man  could  do  in  an  emergency, 
if  he  happened  to  be  the  right  man — the  man  who  not 
only  knew  what  needed  to  be  done  but  had  sufficient 
force  of  character  and  driving  power  to  convert  his 
decisions  into  practical  achievements. 

The  following  night  on  our  return  from  an  in- 
spection of  the  new  camp  at  Valcartier  I  stood  near  the 
citadel  in  Quebec  watching  the  moving  lights  on  the  St. 
Lawrence  far  below.  As  I  looked  the  flashes  of  a 
powerful  searchlight  swept  the  river,  lighting  up  the 
opposite  shores  and  playing  upon  the  craft  in  the  river. 
This  was  the  first  concrete  evidence  I  had  that  our 
country  was  at  war;  it  was  also  a  reminder  that  there 
was  even  a  possibility  that  Quebec  might  be  attacked 
from  the  sea. 

Of  the  growth  of  that  wonderful  camp,  of  our 
experiences  there,  of  the  training  and  equipping  of 

3 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

33,000  men,  of  the  struggles  for  position,  and  of  the 
numerous  disappointments  and  bitternesses  because  all 
could  not  go,  I  will  not  here  attempt  to  speak.  There 
was  a  great  deal  to  do  and  to  learn  and  the  time  passed 
quickly.  It  had  been  decided  that  I  was  to  accompany 
the  contingent  as  adviser  in  sanitation  and  in  charge  of 
the  water  supply,  and,  despite  all  delays  and  disappoint- 
ments, the  day  did  finally  come  when  we  drove  in  to 
Quebec  to  board  our  steamer  for  England. 

At  midnight,  the  Franconia  slipped  slowly  and 
silently  away  from  the  dock.  Only  three  were  there  to 
bid  us  farewell — a  man  and  two  women, — and  though 
they  sang  with  great  enthusiasm,  "It's  a  Long,  Long 
Way  to  Tipperary,"  the  effect  was  melancholy.  Imper- 
ceptibly the  pier  and  the  lights  of  the  city  receded  and 
we  steamed  on  down  the  mighty  St.  Lawrence  to  our 
trysting  place  on  the  sea.  The  second  morning  after- 
wards we  woke  to  find  ourselves  riding  quietly  at  anchor 
in  the  sunny  harbour  of  Gaspe,  with  all  the  other  trans- 
ports anchored  about  us,  together  with  four  long  grey 
gunboats, — our  escort  upon  the  road  to  our  great  ad- 
venture. 

The  brilliant  afternoon  sun  of  a  typical  Canadian 
Autumn  day  shone  down  upon  Gaspe  basin.  Idly  we 
lounged  about  the  decks,  gazing  at  the  shores  with 
their  little  white  fishermen's  cottages,  or  at  the  thirty 
odd  troopships,  and  the  four  grey  gunboats  which 
studded  the  harbour.  The  surface  of  the  water  was 
rippled  by  a  light  breeze  and  all  was  quiet  and  peaceful 
in  the  shelter  of  that  sunny  haven.  Even  the  gulls, 
gorged  with  the  waste  food  from  the  ships,  swam  lazily 
about  or  flapped  idly  hither  and  thither. 

4 


ON  THE  ROAD  TO  A  GREAT  ADVENTURE 

My  gaze  had  fixed  itself  upon  the  nearest  of  the 
lean,  grey  gunboats.  As  I  watched,  the  sleeping  grey- 
hound seemed  to  move;  in  another  moment  the  seem- 
ing illusion  gave  way  to  certainty — it  'was  moving; 
gradually  its  pace  accelerated  and  it  slipped  quietly  out 
toward  the  open  sea.  A  second  gunboat  followed, 
then  a  third,  all  making  for  the  open.  Immediately 
we  were  all  excitement,  for  the  rumour  had  been  cur- 
rent that  we  might  be  there  for  several  days.  But  the 
rumour  was  speedily  disproved  as  the  rattle  of  anchor 
chains  became  audible  from  the  transports  nearest  the 
harbour  mouth,  and  one  by  one  they  followed  their 
little  grey  guides;  and  so,  at  three  of  the  clock  on 
October  the  third,  1914,  the  First  Canadian  Contingent 
with  guns,  ammunition,  horses  and  equipment,  left 
Gaspe  en  route  to  the  great  war. 

Gradually  method  evolved  itself  out  of  apparent 
chaos.  Three  gunboats  took  the  lead  and  the  transports 
fell  into  line  about  a  thousand  yards  from  one  another, 
so  that  eventually  three  lines  were  formed  of  about  a 
dozen  in  each  and  the  whole  fleet  moved  forward  into 
the  Atlantic.  The  shores  of  Gaspe,  dotted  with  white 
cottages;  yellow  stubble  fields;  hills  red  and  purple 
with  autumnal  foliage— these  were  our  last  pictures  of 
Canada — truly  the  last  that  many  of  us  were  ever  to  see, 
and  we  looked  upon  them,  our  hearts  filled  with  emo- 
tions that  these  scenes  had  never  given  rise  to  before. 
Our  ruddy  Canadian  emblem,  the  maple  leaf,  gave  its 
characteristic  tinge  to  the  receding  shores — a  colour  to 
be  seen  often  on  the  field  of  battle,  but  never  in  the 
foliage  of  a  European  landscape. 

5 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

We  were  making  history;  the  great  epoch-making 
enterprise  of  our  young  country  was  taking  place — an 
undertaking  that  would  go  down  in  the  annals  of  the 
Empire  of  Great  Britain  as  a  great  incident  of  the 
period  when  the  young  cubs  raced  to  the  assistance  of 
the  old  lion  in  her  hour  of  need — this  we  realized.  And 
yet  it  was  hard  to  realize  that  we  were  actually  fortu- 
nate enough  to  be  taking  part  in  an  expedition,  the  like 
of  which  never  was  before,  and  probably  never  will  be 
again.  Never  before  had  there  been  gathered  together 
a  fleet  of  transports  of  such  magnitude — a  fleet  consist- 
ing of  33  transports  carrying  33,000  men,  7,000  horses 
and  all  the  motors,  waggons  and  equipment  necessary 
to  place  in  the  field  not  only  a  complete  infantry  divi- 
sion, and  a  cavalry  brigade,  but  in  addition  to  provide 
for  the  necessary  reserves. 

At  night  we  steamed  along  like  phantom  ships. 
All  windows  and  port  holes  were  carefully  screened 
so  that  one  might  walk  the  deck  and  see  not  a  single  ray 
of  light  to  reveal  the  whereabouts  of  the  accompanying 
vessels. 

Off  Newfoundland  as  our  three  lines  of  ships  were 
ploughing  along,  about  a  mile  and  a  half  apart,  we 
picked  up  H.M.S.  "Glory"  which  took  a  position  about 
ten  miles  away  on  our  right.  Our  ship,  the  "Franconia," 
the  flagship  of  the  fleet,  had  the  headquarter  staff,  the 
90th  Regiment  of  Winnipeg,  and  a  number  of  nurses 
on  board,  and  she  held  place  in  the  centre  of  the  middle 
line. 

How  an  orderly  fleet  could  be  immediately  dis- 


ON  THE  ROAD  TO  A  GREAT  ADVENTURE 

organized  was  well  demonstrated  one  morning  when 
our  whistle  blew  sharply  several  times  "Man  Over- 
board." As  we  slowed  down,  with  throbbing  engines 
reversed  churning  the  ocean  into  foam,  we  could  see 
the  tiny  speck  (a  man's  head)  floating  by.  While  our 
lifeboat  was  being  lowered  and  the  man  was  being 
rescued,  the  three  lines  of  transports  buckled  and  the 
ships  see-sawed  to  right  and  left  in  their  efforts  to  avoid 
collisions. 

The  man  proved  to  be  a  painter  who,  unobserved, 
had  fallen  off  the  "Royal  Edward"  in  front  of  us,  and 
but  for  the  vigilance  of  the  lookout  on  our  ship,  would 
undoubtedly  have  perished. 

There  seemed  to  be  about  a  thousand  nurses  aboard 
the  Franconia — the  real  number  was  about  a  hundred 
but  they  multiplied  by  their  ubiquity;  they  swarmed 
everywhere ;  sometimes  they  filled  the  lounge  so  that  the 
poor  Major  or  Colonel  could  not  get  in  for  his  after- 
noon cup  of  tea.  The  daily  lectures  for  officers,  par- 
ticularly on  subjects  like  "artillery  range  finding"  had 
an  abnormal  fascination  for  the  nurses  while  subjects 
like  "the  Geneva  Convention"  and  "Hygiene"  which 
they  might  have  found  useful  held  little  attraction  for 
them.  Such  is  the  perversity  of  the  nurse  when  given 
the  rank  of  an  officer  and  freed  from  all  hospital  re- 
straint. At  the  concerts  few  officers  could  obtain  seats 
and  a  few  of  us  were  mean  enough  to  wish  that  it  would 
get  rough  enough  to  put  some  of  the  nurses  temporarily 
down  and  out.  The  nurses  were  in  a  doubly  fortunate 
position  in  that  they  could  demand  the  rights  of  both 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

officers  and  women,  according  to  which  happened  to 
be  advantageous  at  the  moment. 

The  90th  Regiment  athe  little  black  devils"  of 
Winnipeg  was  a  very  fine  body  of  men  indeed;  they 
were  drilled  by  the  hour  on  the  decks,  and  were  given 
lectures.  They  entertained  themselves  in  their  spare 
time  by  getting  up  boxing  bouts  and  concerts.  The 
antics  of  a  bear  cub  and  a  monkey,  the  battalion  mas- 
cots, amused  the  men  for  many  hours  at  a  time. 

One  night  the  officers  gave  a  dinner  party.  The 
first  plan  was  to  invite  no  nurses  at  all.  Then  other 
counsels  prevailed  and  invitations  were  to  be  given  to 
a  limited  number.  As  this  would  have  caused  all  sorts 
of  petty  jealousies  and  heart  burnings,  a  compromise 
was  effected  by — asking  them  all. 

The  dinner  was  a  great  success.  An  eight-piece 
band,  for  which  the  instruments  had  been  purchased  the 
day  before  we  left  Quebec,  had  been  practising  assidu- 
ously on  the  upper  deck  for  days  with  effects  of  a  most 
weird  character,  and  there  made  its  first  public  appear- 
ance. With  the  aid  of  a  pipe  band  it  helped  to  drown 
the  popping  of  corks  and  the  various  other  noises  due  to 
the  consumption  of  many  bottles  of  champagne  and 
hock.  The  dinner  was  followed  by  a  dance  and  the 
nurses  were  allowed  to  stay  up  till  midnight  instead  of 
being  chased  to  bed  at  the  usual  hour  of  ten  o'clock. 

One  of  the  unique  and  most  interesting  occasions 
of  the  trip  was  when  the  famous  battle  cruiser,  the 
"Queen  Mary"  came  up  about  dusk  one  evening  and 
ran  through  our  lines  amid  great  excitement.  This 
was  the  battle  cruiser  that  had  not  long  before  convert- 

8 


ON  THE  ROAD  TO  A  GREAT  ADVENTURE 

ed  the  German  cruiser  "Emden"  into  a  mass  of  twisted 
iron  in  a  few  minutes.  As  she  steamed  slowly  by  she 
presented  one  of  the  finest  spectacles  I  have  ever  seen. 
Somehow  nothing  in  the  world  looks  as  efficient  for  its 
particular  job  as  a  battle  cruiser;  it  is  the  personifica- 
tion of  power  and  beauty. 

One  morning  at  six  o'clock  a  light  was  discovered 
in  the  distance.  Someone  said  it  was  the  light-house 
off  Land's  End.  So  it  proved.  By  eight  o'clock  we 
could  make  out  clearly  the  coast  of  Cornwall.  As  the 
land  grew  nearer  the  famous  Eddystone  Lighthouse 
came  into  view,  and,  making  a  great  sweep  around  it, 
instead  of  running  for  Southampton  as  we  all  had  ex- 
pected, we  headed  for  Plymouth.  A  number  of  tor- 
pedo boats,  commonly  called  "Ocean  Lice,"  accom- 
panied us  for  the  last  few  miles,  as  a  protection  against 
submarines. 

The  approach  to  Plymouth  was  wonderfully  sooth- 
ing. The  hills  covered  with  beautiful  foliage  in  shades 
of  brown  and  olive  green  were  a  most  restful  change 
from  the  monotony  of  the  sea.  A  marked  contrast  to 
the  peacefulness  of  the  countryside  were  the  fortifica- 
tions everywhere  visible  commanding  the  approach  to 
perhaps  the  most  strongly  fortified  port  in  Southern 
England.  With  the  possible  exception  of  Sydney,  Au- 
tralia,  Plymouth  is  said  to  be  the  most  beautiful  harbour 
in  the  Empire.  One  could  well  believe  it. 

Tugs  puffed  out  to  meet  us,  pilots  climbed  aboard, 
and  we  slowly  steamed  up  the  long  sinuous  channel, 
past  Edgecombe  to  Davenport.  All  the  warships  being 
built  or  equipped,  the  forts,  the  training  ships  and  the 

9 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

docks,  indeed  every  point  of  vantage  was  thronged  with 
cheering  crowds  of  people, — civilians,  soldiers  and 
sailors.  Cheer  after  cheer  from  our  Canadian  soldiers 
responded  to  those  from  our  English  friends  as  we 
slowly  made  our  way  up  the  channel.  It  seemed  as 
though  everybody  had  gone  crazy. 

It  was  a  never-to-be-forgotten  reception;  we  felt 
that  we  were  indeed  a  part  of  the  Empire  in  spirit  as 
well  as  in  name.  About  three  o'clock  we  came  to 
anchor,  and  during  the  afternoon  ship  after  ship  fol- 
lowed in  and  anchored  alongside.  At  night  we  crowd- 
ed up  even  closer  to  give  the  late-comers  room.  For  the 
first  time  on  our  trip  the  vessels  were  all  brilliantly 
illuminated,  the  bands  played,  the  giddy  ones  danced, 
and  all  were  happy  to  be  once  again  in  sight  of  solid 
land.  At  dinner  the  commandant,  Col.  Williams,  made 
a  speech  and  called  for  three  cheers  for  our  Captain, 
and  never,  I  suppose,  did  any  other  Captain  receive 
such  hearty  cheers  and  such  a  tremendous  "tiger."  It 
was  the  culmination  of  a  marvellous  and  historic  trip. 

The  trip  to  Salisbury  by  motor  next  day  was  a 
dream — a  dream  of  hedges  and  great  trees  meeting  over- 
head ;  of  hills  and  valleys  with  little  thatched  cottages 
and  villages  nestling  in  them,  of  beautiful  estates  and 
sheep,  of  quaint  old  English  farms,  of  ancient  towns 
and  villages.  Through  Ivy  Bridge  and  Honiton  to  Exe- 
ter, where  we  stopped  to  see  the  beautiful  old  Cathedral, 
so  warm  and  rich  in  colouring  and  passing  by  one  long 
series  of  beautiful  pictures,  in  perhaps  the  most  charm- 
ing pastoral  landscape  in  the  world,  we  came  to  the 
white-scarred  edge  of  the  famous  Salisbury  Plain. 

10 


CHAPTER  II. 

ON   SALISBURY   PLAINS. 

IT  was  on  the  15th  of  October  that  we  landed  in  Ply- 
mouth. A  few  days  later  the  whole  of  the  33,000 
(with  the  exception  of  a  few  errant  knights  who  had 
gone  off  on  independent  pilgrimages)  were  more  or 
less  settled  on  Salisbury  Plain.  The  force  was  divided 
into  four  distinct  camps  miles  apart.  One  infantry 
brigade  and  the  headquarters  staff  was  stationed  at 
Bustard  Camp ;  one  section  was  camped  a  couple  of 
miles  away,  at  West  Down  South;  a  third  at  West 
Down  North  still  farther  away,  and  the  fourth  at  Pond 
Farm  about  five  miles  from  Bustard.  Convenience  of 
water  supplies  and  arrangements  for  the  administration 
of  the  forces  made  these  divisions  necessary. 

The  plains  of  Salisbury,  ideal  for  summer  military 
camps,  are  rolling,  prairie-like  lands  stretching  for 
miles,  broken  by  a  very  occasional  farm  house  or  by 
plantations  of  trees  called  "spinneys."  A  thin  layer  of 
earth  and  turf  covered  the  chalk  which  was  hundreds 
of  feet  in  depth ;  at  any  spot  a  blow  with  a  pick  would 
bring  up  the  white  chalk  filled  with  black  flints.  The 
hills  by  which  the  plains  were  reached  rose  sharply 
from  the  surface  of  Wiltshire,  so  that  Salisbury  Plain 
itself  could  be  easily  distinguished  miles  away  by  the 
white,  water  worn  rifts  in  the  hillsides. 

When  we  first  arrived  the  plains  gave  promise  of 
being  a  fine  camping  ground.  Tents  were  pitched, 

11 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

canteens  opened,  work  was  begun  and  our  boys  settled 
down  impatiently  to  receive  the  further  training  neces- 
sary before  passing  over  to  that  Mecca  to  which  one 
and  all  looked  forward — the  battle  grounds  of  Flanders. 

For  a  few  days  all  went  well ;  then  it  began  to  rain. 
About  the  middle  of  November  it  settled  down  in 
earnest  and  rained  steadily  for  a  month;  sometimes  it 
merely  drizzled,  at  other  times  it  poured;  but  it  never 
stopped,  except  for  an  hour  or  so.  The  constant  tramp 
of  many  feet  speedily  churned  into  mud  the  clay  turf 
overlaying  the  chalk,  and  the  rain  could  not  percolate 
through  this  mixture  as  it  did  the  unbroken  sod.  In  a 
few  days  the  mud  was  one  inch — four  inches — and  even 
a  foot  deep.  Many  a  time  I  waded  through  mud  up  to 
my  knees. 

The  smooth  English  roads,  lacking  depth  of  road- 
metal,  were  speedily  torn  to  pieces  by  the  heavy  traffic 
of  motors  and  steam  traction  engines.  Passing  cars 
and  lorries  sprayed  the  hedges  with  a  thin  mud-emul- 
sion formed  from  the  road  binder,  and  exposed  the 
sharp  flints  which,  like  so  much  broken  glass,  tore  to 
pieces  the  tires  of  the  motors. 

Cold  high  winds,  saturated  with  moisture,  accom- 
panied the  rain  and  searched  one's  very  marrow. 
Nothing  would  exclude  these  sea  breezes  but  skin  or 
fur  coats,  and  though  accustomed  to  a  severe  climate, 
we  Canadians  felt  the  cold  in  England  as  we  never  had 
at  home.  Sometimes  the  temperature  fell  below  the 
freezing  point,  and  occasionally  we  had  sleet,  hail  or 
snow  for  variety.  Tents  were  often  blown  down  by 
the  hundreds,  and  it  was  a  never-to-be-forgotten  sight 

12 


ON  SALISBURY  PLAINS 

watching  a  small  army  of  soldiers  trying  to  hold  and 
pin  down  some  of  the  large  mess  tents,  while  rope  after 
rope  snapped  under  the  straining  of  the  flapping  can- 
vas. One  day  the  post  office  tent  collapsed,  and  some 
of  the  mail  disappeared  into  the  heavens,  never  to 
return. 

The  officers  of  the  headquarter  staff  were  fairly 
comfortable  in  comparison  to  the  others.  Our  tents 
were  pitched  in  a  quadrangle  formed  by  four  rows  of 
trees  and  scrub,  which  had  evidently  been  planted 
around  the  site  of  a  former  house  and  served  to  break 
the  high  winds.  Each  officer  had  a  tent  with  a  wooden 
floor.  Mine  was  carpeted  with  an  extra  blanket  to  ex- 
clude draughts  and  make  it  feel  comfortable  under  one's 
bare  feet  in  the  morning.  The  tent  was  heated  by  an 
oil  stove  which  was  kept  burning  night  and  day;  and  at 
night  I  slept  snug  and  warm  in  the  interior  of  a  Jaeger 
sleeping  blanket  in  a  Wolseley  kit.  My  batman,  Kar- 
ner,  had  made  a  table  from  some  boxes  and  boards  which 
he  had  picked  up,  I  know  not  where.  It  is  unwise  to  ask 
your  batman  too  many  foolish  questions  as  to  the  origin 
of  things, — take  what  he  gives  you  and  be  thankful. 

This  table  covered  with  another  blanket,  served  to 
support  a  splendid  brass  lamp  with  a  green  silk  shade, 
for  which  I  had  paid  a  fabulous  sum  in  Salisbury  town. 
It  also  held  some  books,  brushes,  and  other  necessaries. 
A  shelf  underneath  displayed  a  little  brass  kettle  and 
other  paraphernalia  for  making  tea,  while  my  other 
books  were  arranged  in  a  neat  row  beneath. 

The  tents  were  wet  all  the  time,  and  the  clothes 
and  blankets  of  the  men  soon  became  water  soaked  and 

13 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

remained  so  for  weeks  at  a  stretch  for  they  had  no  stoves 
or  other  facilities  for  drying  them.  But  Tommy,  the 
resourceful,  learned  that  he  could  get  warm  by  the 
simple  process  of  wrapping  himself  up  in  wet  blankets 
and  steaming  as  he  would  in  a  Turkish  bath, — with  him- 
self as  the  heater.  He  also  discovered  that  a  pair  of  wet 
socks,  well  wrung  out  and  placed  next  his  chest  at  night 
would  be  half  dry  in  the  morning.  He  had  to  sleep  in 
a  bell  tent  with  seven  others,  radiating  like  spokes  of 
a  wheel  from  the  centre  tent  pole.  He  had  nothing  to 
give  him  any  comfort  whatever. 

It  was  impossible  to  do  any  work,  even  route 
marching,  and,  having  nothing  to  do  but  lie  around  and 
think  of  himself,  Tommy  began  to  grouse.  Each  camp 
had  become  a  morass  with  mud  a  foot  deep,  and  Tommy 
looked  out  upon  it  and  behold  it  was  not  good,  and  he 
cursed  both  loud  and  long  whoever  he  thought  might 
be  responsible  for  the  conditions,  and  particularly 
Emperor  Bill  the  cause  of  it  all.  The  Canadian  contin- 
gent had  begun  a  process  of  mildewing. 

One  felt  sorry  for  the  poor  horses.  Picketed  in 
the  open  plain  or  in  the  partial  shelter  of  the  occasional 
"spinneys,"they  stood  with  ears  drooping  and  tails  to 
the  wind,  pictures  of  dejection.  No  doubt  they,  too, 
cursed  the  Kaiser.  Their  feet  became  soft  from  stand- 
ing idly  in  the  mud,  and  in  a  good  many  cases  had  be- 
come diseased;  in  general  they  went  off  badly  in  condi- 
tion. Standing  orders  prohibited  the  cutting  down  of 
a  bush  or  tree  on  Salisbury  Plain,  but  in  the  night  time 
we  could  sometimes  hear  the  familiar  sound  of  an  axe 
meeting  standing  timber,  and  one  could  guess  that 

14 


ON  SALISBURY  PLAINS 

Tommy,  in  his  desire  for  wood  to  build  a  fire,  and  re- 
gardless of  rules,  had  grown  desperate.  As  one  of  them 
said  to  Rudyard  Kipling  when  he  was  down  visiting 
them,  "What  were  trees  for  if  they  were  not  to  be  cut 
down?" 

Towards  the  middle  of  December,  one  evening 
there  was  a  sharp  tap  on  the  tent  of  Capt.  Haywood, 
Medical  Officer  of  the  third  (Toronto)  Battalion. 

"Come  in"  he  cried. 

The    laces    were    undone    and    Sergeant    Kipple 

stepped  into  the  tent.    The  Sergeant  was  a  good  man 

—an  old  soldier  and  reliable  as  the  proverbial  watch. 

"Well,  what  is  it?"  said  the  M.  O. 

"I  want  you  to  give  me  somethink  to  buck  me  up" 
said  the  Sergeant  in  a  tearful  voice. 

"But  what  is  the  matter?"  said  the  M.  O.  "Have 
you  a  cold?" 

"No,  I  aint  got  no  cold"  he  said,  "I  just  wants 
somethink  to  buck  me  up;  some  qui-nine  or  somethink." 

"But  what's  the  matter?"  persisted  the  M.  O. 
"What  do  you  want  it  for?" 

"Nothing's  wrong  with  me"  said  the  sergeant,  "I 
jist  want  somethink  to  buck  me  up;  this  rine  is  getting 
on  me  nerves.  It  rines  all  day,  and  me  clothes  'aven't 
been  dry  for  a  month — if  I  go  out  I  get  more  wet.  All 
day  long  I  'ave  to  splash  about  in  the  blinkin'  mud 
and  rine.  At  night  I  cawnt  go  to  sleep.  Me  clothes 
are  wet;  me  blankets  are  soaked.  I  'ears  the  bl —  rine 
coming  down  on  the  bl —  tent  which  leaks  all  over;  it 
makes  a  'ell  of  a  noise  on  the  tent  and  I  cawnt  sleep. 
I  gets  up  in  the  morning  and  'ave  to  do  me  work  and  do 

IS 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

me  dooty.  But  Doc,  it's  gettin'  me  goat.  I  feel  like 
cutting  me  bl —  throat.  I  'ave  'ad  thirteen  years  in  the 
awmy  and  'ave  me  good  conduc  stripes.  I  'ave  a  wife 
and  two  kids  at  'ome.  I  didn't  come  over  'ere  to  drown ; 
I  came  over  to  fight.  I  wants  to  do  me  work  but  I 
cawnt  do  it.  If  you  don't  give  me  somethink  Doc  I  am 
afraid  I'll  cut  me  bloody  throat  and  I  don't  want  to  die. 
Cawn't  you  give  me  somethink  to  buck  me  up,  Doc 
please?" 

The  Doc  did  give  him  something,  and  between  that 
and  a  little  judicious  "jollying"  Kipple  was  a  different 
man  in  a  few  days. 

Of  course  there  was  trouble.  The  contingent  was 
going  through  a  rough  experience,  and  to  most  of  us 
Salisbury  Plain  was  becoming  a  nightmare.  A  fairly 
large  number  of  the  men  were  given  leave,  and  an 
equally  large  number  took  French  leave.  The  latter 
migrated  in  large  numbers  to  the  little  villages  around 
the  outskirts  of  the  plain  where  they  settled  down  to 
a  few  days'  comfort  before  they  were  rounded  up  by 
the  military  police. 

Some  went  to  London,  and,  worshipping  at  the 
shrines  of  Venus  and  Bacchus,  forgot  about  the  war, 
and  tarried  in  the  fascinating  metropolis.  Others 
sought  a  few  hours'  respite  and  forgetfulness  in  the 
town  of  Salisbury,  where  they  hobnobbed  with  their 
British  confreres  and  treated  them  to  various  drinks. 
At  times  the  British  Tommy,  stung  at  the  flaunting  of 
pound  notes  where  he  had  only  shillings,  smote  his 
colonial  brother,  and  bloody  battles  resulted  in  conse- 
quence thereof. 

16 


ON  SALISBURY  PLAINS 

It  was  a  curious  fact  that  it  was  the  Englishman 
who  had  gone  out  to  Canada  a  few  years  before  and  now 
returned  as  a  Canadian,  who  was  the  chief  offender  in 
this  respect.  He  had  gained  a  new  airiness  and  sense 
of  freedom  which  he  was  proud  of,  and  it  brought  him 
into  trouble.  My  own  chauffeur,  an  Englishman,  was 
the  invariable  champion  of  all  American  cars  as  com- 
pared with  English  cars,  which  he  delighted  in  saying 
were  from  three  to  four  years  behind  the  times.  This 
same  man  four  years  before  had  been  working  on  auto- 
mobiles in  London,  where  he  was  born. 

At  one  stage  it  looked  as  if  the  force  was  under- 
going a  process  of  decomposition,  and  would  disinte- 
grate. The  morale  of  the  men  under  the  very  depress- 
ing conditions  which  existed,  had  almost  gone  and  they 
did  not  care  what  happened  them.  Privates,  perhaps 
college  men  or  wealthy  business  men  in  Canada,  frankly 
said  when  arrested,  that  they  were  quite  willing  to  pay 
the  price,  but  that  they  had  determined  to  get  warm 
and  dry  once  more  before  they  were  drowned  in  the 
mud.  It  is  an  easy  matter  to  handle  a  few  cases  of 
this  sort,  but  when  you  get  hundreds  of  them  little  can 
be  done,  and  threats,  fines  and  punishments  were  of 
little  avail  in  correcting  the  existing  state  of  affairs. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  under  the  conditions  the  mili- 
tary authorities  were  hard  put  to  it  to  control  the  situa- 
tion. Each  night  the  motor  lorries  returned  loaded 
with  men  under  arrest,  and  each  day  an  equally  large 
number  left  the  camp  to  undergo  the  same  experience. 

All  the  time  the  wastage  went  on.  One  soldier 
fell  off  a  cart  and  fractured  his  skull;  another  had  his 

17 
3 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

legs  amputated  by  a  lorry;  a  third  was  accidentally  shot, 
and  another  committed  suicide.  It  is  astonishing  how 
many  accidents  can  occur  among  30,000  men. 

New  huts  were  being  built  at  Larkhill,  near  the 
ancient  Phoenician  remains  called  Stonehenge,  but  the 
progress  made  was  so  slow  that  finally  our  men  were  put 
on  the  job,  and  the  huts  began  to  go  up  like  mushrooms. 
Hundreds  of  Canadians,  belonging  to  Highland  and 
other  regiments,  built  roads,  huts,  and  other  works,  in 
a  country  apparently  filled  with  labouring  men  with 
no  intention  of  ever  going  to  war,  and  who,  in  fact,  often 
did  not  believe  that  there  was  a  war.  We  all  felt  some- 
what relieved  one  night  when  we  heard  that  the  German 
fleet  was  bombarding  the  English  coast,  hoping  that  it 
would  shake  the  country  out  of  its  feeling  of  smug  self- 
complacency  and  lethargy. 

On  November  20th,  there  were  150  men  in  our 
hospital  at  Bulford  Manor;  three  weeks  later  there  were 
780.  It  had  rained  every  day  in  the  interval,  and  there 
was  a  great  deal  of  influenza  and  bronchial  troubles, 
which  made  splendid  foundation  for  attacks  of  other 
diseases. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  year  the  men  began  to 
move  into  the  new  huts  at  Larkhill.  We  had  already 
officially  forecasted  in  black  and  white,  that  the  huts, 
being  raised  from  the  ground,  would  be  colder  to  sleep 
in,  and  whereas  there  had  been  only  eight  men  in  the 
tent  to  be  infected  should  one  man  become  ill  with  a 
communicable  disease,  there  would  now  be  forty  in  each 
hut;  and  that  in  consequence  we  should  expect  a  great 
increase  in  illness  from  such  diseases.  And  there  was. 

18 


ON  SALISBURY  PLAINS 

It  began  to  increase  as  soon  as  the  men  got  into  the 
huts.  These  huts  were  heated  with  stoves,  and  fuel  was 
provided.  Consequently  the  men,  before  going  to  bed, 
got  the  stoves  red  hot,  closed  and  sealed  the  windows 
with  paper,  contrary  to  standing  orders,  and  went  to  bed 
with  the  huts  overheated.  When  the  stoves  went  out 
the  huts  cooled  down  and  the  usual  story  one  heard  was 
of  the  men  waking  at  three  or  four  in  the  morning  cold 
and  shivering.  The  heat  also  served  to  shrink  the  floor 
boards  so  that  the  draughts  came  through  and  made 
matters  worse. 

Then  the  scare  came.  Prior  to  this  the  report  of 
an  odd  case  of  cerebro-spinal  meningitis  had  not  occa- 
sioned any  concern.  Under  these  menacing  conditions 
cases  of  the  disease  became  more  numerous  and  when 
Col.  Strange  died  of  it  uneasiness  culminated  in  real 
alarm. 

My  proposed  trip  to  Scotland  for  Christmas  was 
postponed  and  instead  I  was  sent  up  to  London  to  get  an 
expert  bacteriologist  on  the  disease  and  arrange  to  start 
a  laboratory.  The  object  was  to  see  what  could  be  done 
in  locating  "carriers"  of  the  disease  germ,  and  thereby 
keep  the  disease  from  spreading.  Accordingly,  on  the 
day  before  Christmas,  I  arranged  with  the  Director  of 
the  Lister  Institute  for  the  loan  of  Dr.  Arkwright  of 
his  staff  and  for  the  necessary  apparatus  to  equip  a 
laboratory  at  Bulford  Cottage  Hospital.  It  was  a  for- 
lorn hope,  but  it  was  the  only  thing  that  could  be  done 
to  try  to  get  this  elusive  disease  under  control.  I  spent 
Christmas  day  in  camp,  and  it  was  a  melancholy  day 
indeed.  The  men  were  all  well  looked  after,  and  for 

19 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

those  in  the  hospitals  the  day  was  made  as  bright  as 
possible.  It  seemed  years  since  we  had  left  Canada. 

When  we  brought  down  the  bacteriological  appar- 
atus by  passenger  train  a  few  days  later  we  paid  excess 
baggage  on  780  pounds  but  we  got  it  through.  It  took 
five  men  to  shove  the  trucks  containing  the  boxes,  and 
we  held  the  connecting  train  for  five  minutes  at  Salis- 
bury Junction  until  we  made  the  transfer.  This  saved 
time,  for  the  London  people  would  not  guarantee  de- 
livery for  five  weeks. 

The  epidemic  of  cerebro-spinal  meningitis  proved 
to  be  a  blessing  in  disguise,  for  it  educated  both 
combatant  officers  and  men  as  to  the  necessity  of  observ- 
ing certain  simple  precautions  to  prevent  the  spread  of 
any  contagious  disease;  and  it  also  showed  them  that 
when  disease  once  got  out  of  hand  it  would  be  possible 
to  put  whole  battalions  hors  de  combat.  Col.  Mercer 
kept  his  brigade  moving  about  on  the  sod  in  tents  all 
winter,  and  as  a  result,  there  was  very  much  less  sick- 
ness in  his  brigade  than  in  the  other  brigades  housed 
in  huts. 

Then  nature  came  to  our  rescue,  and  took  a  hand 
in  the  game.  The  rains  grew  less  frequent;  the  sun 
put  in  an  occasional  appearance;  training  was  begun 
once  more,  and  a  rapid  improvement  was  immediately 
apparent  in  the  men.  Again  the  sound  of  singing  was 
heard  in  the  tents  at  night  and  on  route  marches;  and 
again  one  began  to  see  smiling  faces.  With  the  im- 
provement in  weather  conditions,  training  went  briskly 
on,  and  the  division  began  to  rapidly  round  into  shape 

Meanwhile  the  artillery  and  cavalry  had  gone  into 

20 


ON  SALISBURY  PLAINS 

billets  in  the  surrounding  villages,  and  were  behaving 
splendidly.  The  people  took  to  them  very  kindly,  and 
the  men  themselves  looked  so  clean  and  happy  that  it 
was  difficult  to  realize  that  they  were  the  same  unkempt, 
dirty  individuals  who  had  been  seen  not  so  long  before 
wading  through  the  mud  and  filth  of  the  plains. 

All  sorts  of  rumours  were  current.  A  favorite 
one  was  that  we  were  to  go  to  Egypt  to  finish  our  train- 
ing there.  Another  one  whispered  among  the  staff 
was  that  we  would  shortly  leave  for  France.  The  men 
worked  hard  at  their  training,  anxious  to  make  good 
and  get  to  the  Front.  They  had  the  old  Viking  spirit 
of  adventure  in  their  blood,  and  wanted  to  get  to  the 
battle  ground.  We  all  knew  that  many  of  us  would  be 
killed,  but  we  all  felt  that  it  would  be  the  other  fellow 
— not  ourselves. 

After  the  laboratory  had  been  started,  the  force  had 
to  a  large  extent  been  reassured  thereby  that  everything 
possible  was  being  done  that  could  be  done.  When, 
with  better  weather,  the  sickness  began  to  abate,  I  ob- 
tained permission  from  our  Surgeon-General  to  try  to 
get  the  rest  of  our  men  inoculated  against  typhoid 
fever.  We  had  arrived  in  England  with  65  per  cent, 
of  the  men  inoculated,  and  it  was  my  ambition  to  get 
them  all  done  before  the  division  left  for  France. 

Accordingly  I  settled  down  in  the  Bear  Hotel  in 
the  little  Wiltshire  town  of  Devizes,  the  head-quarters 
of  the  artillery  brigade,  and  began  my  educational  cam- 
paign. 

The  old  Bear  Hotel  was  one  of  the  famous  old 
coaching  houses  of  former  days;  it  had  seen  much  life 

21 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

in  ye  olden  times  when  it  had  been  the  chief  stopping 
place  of  the  bloods  of  London  en  route  to  the  famous 
City  of  Bath  and  the  historic  Pump  Room.  It  was  a 
homey-looking  old  place,  with  the  usual  appearance  of 
comfort  pertaining  to  an  English  Inn,  and  the  maximum 
amount  of  discomfort  as  judged  by  our  modern  stan- 
dards. The  food  was  good,  and  the  fire  places  looked 
bright  and  cheery,  like  the  bar  maid  behind  the  polished 
bar.  It  was  mostly  in  looks.  No  wonder  that  the  Bri- 
tish people  fortify  themselves  with  copious  draughts 
of  stimulants  to  help  keep  out  the  cold.  There  were 
some  magnificent  pieces  of  old  furniture  and  Sheffield 
plate  in  the  halls — pieces  that  many  a  collector  had 
tried  in  vain  to  purchase.  My  room  lit  by  two  candles 
in  earthenware  candlesticks ;  and  with  a  fire  in  a  corner 
grate — at  a  shilling  a  day  extra — looked  cozy  enough 
but  the  bedroom  furniture  was  ancient  and  uncomfor- 
table. 

The  officers  of  the  Artillery  Headquarters  lived  at 
the  hotel,  and  I  took  my  meals  with  them.  Col.  Bur- 
stall,  the  officer  commanding,  gave  me  every  assistance 
and  issued  orders  to  his  officers  to  aid  in  every  possible 
way  in  the  campaign. 

My  object  was  to  educate  all  the  artillery  and 
cavalry  units  on  the  danger  of  using  impure  water,  on 
typhus  fever  and  how  it  was  conveyed  by  lice,  and  on 
the  value  and  necessity  of  anti-typhoid  inoculation. 

The  following  day  I  gave  my  first  talk  in  a  large 
shed  in  the  town,  to  about  700  artillery  men  of  the  first 
artillery  brigade.  It  was  a  unique  experience,  standing 
on  a  great  stack  of  boxes  of  loaded  ammunition  beside 

22 


ON  SALISBURY  PLAINS 

Colonel  Morrison  and  the  medical  officer  Lt.-Col. 
McCrae,  talking  to  the  brigade  drawn  up  at  attention 
around  us.  It  was  an  attentive  audience;  the  men  had 
to  listen,  though  as  a  matter  of  fact,  they  really  seemed 
interested.  When  paraded  next  day  370  uninoculated 
were  discovered  and  given  the  treatment;  the  few  who 
refused  were  sent  to  the  base  depot  and  replaced  by 
others. 

The  campaign  begun  so  successfully  was  carried 
on  from  day  to  day.  Arrangements  were  made  by  tele- 
phone or  wire  with  the  O.  C.'s  of  the  various  units,  to 
have  their  men  paraded  for  my  lectures.  The  weather 
was  frequently  wet,  and  the  talks  were  given  in  farm 
yards,  village  squares,  churches,  schools,  hay-lofts,  and 
open  fields.  In  some  instances  the  units,  broken  up  into 
small  sections,  were  scattered  about  the  country  so  that  I 
would  have  to  talk  to  SO  men  at  once  instead  of  several 
hundred. 

One  of  the  most  unique  occasions  was  the  Sunday 
when  I  addressed  the  3rd  Artillery  brigade,  after 
church  parade  in  the  market  square  of  Market  Laving- 
don.  We  arrived  early  and  sat  and  listened  while,  from 
the  little  stone  church  high  up  on  the  hill  above  us, 
drifted  the  sound  of  soldiers  singing.  It  was  unutter- 
ably sad  to  me  to  hear  the  full  mellow  soldier  chorus 
swelling  out  on  "Onward  Christian  Soldiers,  Marching 
as  to  War."  One  felt  that  the  words  must  have  had  to 
all  of  them  a  meaning  that  they  never  had  had  before. 

Then  the  brigade  formed  up  and  was  played  by  the 
village  band  to  the  market  place  where  they  were  drawn 
up  into  a  square  with  some  gun  carriages  in  the  centre. 

23 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

When  all  was  ready  I  mounted  a  gun  carriage  and  gave 
my  talk  with  all  the  earnestness  I  could  muster,  while 
the  villagers  congregated  at  one  side,  stood  and  gaped, 
and  wondered  what  it  was  all  about. 

My  talk  had  settled  down  into  a  20-minute  dis- 
course, and  I  gave  variations  of  it  as  often  as  four  times 
in  an  afternoon  at  places  10  miles  apart.  In  this  way 
one  saw  a  good  deal  of  the  Wiltshire  scenery  in  the  late 
winter  season.  It  was  a  never-failing  source  of  wonder 
and  pleasure  to  me  to  see  the  ivy  covered  banks,  the 
ivy  clad  trees  and  the  rhododendrons  and  holly  trees 
in  green  leaf  in  the  middle  of  the  winter.  In  the 
garden  at  the  back  of  the  famous  old  Elizabethan  house 
in  Potterne — a  perfect  example  of  the  old  Tudor  tim- 
bered style  of  architecture — cowslips  and  pansies  were 
in  full  blossom,  and  I  was  told  the  wild  violets  were  in 
flower  in  the  woods.  The  trim,  well  kept  gardens, 
hedges  and  fields  of  the  country  side  and  village  were 
a  continual  delight  to  a  native  of  Canada  where  every- 
thing in  comparison  looks  so  unfinished  and  in  need  of 
trimming.  The  winter  wheat  was  as  green  as  the  new 
grass  of  spring  time,  and  many  of  the  meadows  also 
were  fairly  green.  Some  shrubs,  and  in  particular  an 
unknown  yellow-flowered,  leafless  vine,  were  in  blos- 
som. I  heard  afterwards  that  it  was  the  Jasmine. 

During  those  January  days  when  the  sun  shone  fit- 
fully, some  wonderful  atmospheric  effects  were  to  be 
seen  at  times  on  the  plains.  For  the  painter  who  wanted 
atmosphere  and  light  and  vivid  contrasts,  that  was  the 
place  to  be,  for  never  did  I  see  elsewhere  such  wonder- 


24 


ON  SALISBURY  PLAINS 

ful  pastel  effects;  never  such  vivid-colored  banks  of 
spray  and  fog. 

The  little  straw-thatched  farm  houses  with  their 
small  paned  windows  frequently  filled  with  flowers  in 
bloom,  nestling  in  gardens  and  shrubberies  and  orchards, 
had  a  more  or  less  comfortable  and  homey  look  during 
the  day  time  ;  but  at  dusk  when  the  light  was  failing  and 
the  lamp  light  shone  through  the  windows,  these  farm 
houses  took  on  a  wonderfully  attractive  and  romantic 
appearance.  It  made  you  feel  like  going  to  the  door 
and  asking  for  a  glass  of  new  milk  or  a  cup  of  cider  ;  and 
you  had  visions  of  blazing  fires  in  the  great  fireplace, 
and  brass  utensils,  hanging  from  the  walls  ;  comfy  ingle 
nooks,  old  beam  ceilings  and  ancient  oak  furniture; 
hams  suspended  from  the  kitchen  ceilings,  and  old  blue 
willow  pattern  plates  on  the  walls.  That  nothing  can 
give  a  house  such  a  homelike  appearance  as  a  thatched 
roof  and  leaded  panes,  I  am  perfectly  convinced. 

To  a  Canadian  the  bird-life  of  the  plain  was  mar- 
vellous. There  were  birds  by  the  -tens  of  thousands. 
You  would  see  crows  settling  on  a  spring  wheat  field  on 
the  open  plain  by  hundreds;  you  would  see  starlings 
in  great  flocks  following  the  plough,  and  gulls  some- 
times literally  covered  acres  of  newly  ploughed  ground. 

One  day  as  we  approached  a  hamlet  near 
Netheravon,  I  fancied  I  was  witnessing  an  optical  illu- 
sion :  the  whole  surface  of  a  field  was  covered  with 
black  and  white,  vibrating  as  though  waves  were  pass- 
ing over  it.  When  we  came  nearer  we  saw  that  the  field 
was  covered  so  thick  with  gulls  that  the  ground  was 
hidden.  The  gull  was  a  small  white  variety  about  the 


25 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

size  of  a  pigeon,  with  a  black  ruff  around  its  neck.  The 
wave-like  motion  was  made  by  the  birds  digging  away 
in  the  newly  turned  earth  for  worms  and  larvae ;  judg- 
ing by  the  way  they  worked,  they  must  have  cleaned  up 
millions  of  them. 

Then  there  were  robins,  thrushes,  magpies,  and 
scores  of  other  birds  which  were  unfamiliar  to  us,  while 
later  on  the  larks  spiralled  with  delirious  songs  into  the 
sky.  The  pheasants  were  so  tame  they  would  scarcely 
get  out  of  the  way  of  a  passing  car. 

Salisbury  Plain  had  evidently  been  the  site  of  many 
an  armed  camp  and  had  probably  seen  many  a  battle 
since  the  time  of  the  Romans.  The  archaeologists  in 
charge  of  the  unearthing  of  "Old  Sarum,"  perhaps  the 
most  ancient  remains  of  a  city  in  Great  Britain,  have, 
during  the  last  ten  years,  found  many  wonderful  things. 
Old  Sarum  is  situated  about  two  miles  from  the  present 
city  of  Salisbury  on  the  plain.  It  was  built  on  the  top 
of  an  enormous  circular  mound  of  earth  several  hun- 
dred yards  in  diameter,  and  was  supposed  to  have  been 
surrounded  by  the  usual  fosse  and  ditch.  Roman,  Saxon 
and  Norman  remains  have  been,  and  are  still  being, 
found,  as  the  stonework  of  walls  and  buildings  is  being 
uncovered.  It  is  supposed  that  much  of  the  original 
stone  was  used  in  the  12th  century  to  build  the  present 
cathedral  of  Salisbury. 

One  day  at  the  opposite  side  of  the  plain  toward 
Tinhead,  Colonel  (now  General)  Panet,  of  the  horse 
artillery,  took  me  out  to  see  the  enormous  white  horse 
cut  in  the  chalk  in  the  face  of  the  hill  ascending  to 
Salisbury  Plain.  The  figure,  representing  King  Al- 

26 


ON  SALISBURY  PLAINS 

fred's  famous  white  charger  is  supposed  to  have  been 
carved  in  King  Alfred's  time,  to  celebrate  a  famous  vic- 
tory in  the  neighborhood.  The  natives  have  kept  the 
figure  ever  since  carved  white  on  the  hillside  by  the 
simple  process  of  digging  away  the  surface  earth  and 
sod,  and  leaving  the  underlying  chalk  exposed. 

Stonehenge,  situated  in  the  middle  of  the  plain,  is 
one  of  the  weirdest  and  most  interesting  sights  of  Eng- 
land. It  consists  of  two  series  of  colossal  stone  columns 
arranged  in  circles  with  the  lower  ends  stuck  in  the 
ground,  and  the  upper  ends  supporting  huge  slabs  of 
stone  placed  across  them.  A  few  of  the  stones  have 
fallen,  and  lie  prone  upon  the  ground.  Perhaps  no 
relics  in  the  world  have  caused  mofe  'wonder  and 
evoked  more  speculation  in  the  lay  and  scientific  mind 
than  these  curious  stones  standing  in  the  middle  of  the 
plain,  miles  from  any  town.  Books  have  been  written 
about  them.  They  are  supposed  to  be  of  Phoenician 
origin.  Each  stone  weighing  many  tons,  must  have 
been  brought  a  great  distance,  and  suggest  the  use  of 
powerful  means  of  transport  not  known  to-day.  Hun- 
dreds of  thousands  of  people  have  travelled  to  Stone- 
henge and  have  gone  away  but  little  wiser  than  when 
they  came.  What  the  stones  were  for  no  man  knows; 
he  can  only  speculate  and  wonder. 

All  over  the  plain,  too,  are  gently  rising  circular 
mounds  called  "barrows"  supposed  to  be  Roman  burial 
places.  It  is  against  the  law  to  dig  into  them  or  damage 
them  in  any  way,  just  as  it  is  unlawful  to  harm  one  of  the 
rabbits  or  hares,  which  abound  on  the  plains.  England 
has  laws  to  cover  all  contingencies. 

27 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

In  about  two  weeks  I  had  completed  my  cam- 
paign, and  returned  to  Bustard  Camp  where  I  rounded 
out  my  course  by  lecturing  to  the  officers  of  the  various 
infantry  brigades  with  the  exception  of  the  Highland- 
ers. In  this  way,  though  the  returns  were  not  quite 
completed  before  the  division  left  for  France,  it  was 
estimated  that  97  per  cent,  of  the  men  had  been  inocu- 
lated against  typhoid  fever. 

During  that  winter  the  difficulties  of  the  medical 
service  were  very  great.  At  the  beginning  of  December 
the  manor  house  at  Bulford  was  obtained  as  a  nucleus 
for  a  hospital  and  was  equipped  and  manned  by  num- 
ber one  general  hospital.  Across  the  way  from  the 
manor  was  a  field  which  was  utilized  as  a  tent  hospital 
for  venereal  diseases.  Then  some  new  cottages  just 
being  completed  about  200  yards  away  were  obtained 
and  equipped;  two  other  houses  at  different  places 
about  two  miles  apart  were  requisitioned  and  finally  the 
riding  school  at  Netheravon  was  taken  over  as  well  as 
some  shacks  for  hospital  purposes. 

The  hospital,  therefore,  consisted  of  six  distinct 
units  spread  over  a  five-mile  area,  and  all  operated  by 
the  same  hospital  staff.  It  was  very  difficult  from  the 
standpoint  of  administration,  though  it  was  excellent 
training  for  the  personnel  of  the  hospital.  At  the  begin- 
ning it  was  difficult  to  obtain  drugs.  The  transportation 
of  sick  men  from  Pond  Farm  camp  to  Netheravon  a  dis- 
tance of  about  16  miles  over  very  rough  roads  in  rain 
and  cold  can  be  better  imagined  than  described.  And 
yet  it  was  the  best  that  could  be  done  under  the  circum- 
stances. Salisbury  Plain  is  a  great  rolling  field  without 

28 


ON  SALISBURY  PLAINS 

town  or  village  and  the  places  chosen  were  the  nearest 
and  in  fact  the  only  places,  that  could  be  found  reason- 
ably close  to  the  camp  suitable  for  hospital  purposes. 

We  had  been  reviewed  by  Lord  Roberts  and  the 
King  early  after  our  arrival,  and  now  it  was  rumoured 
that  the  King  would  review  us  again.  Inspections  of 
various  sorts  became  a  daily  occurrence;  inspectors 
from  the  War  Office  came  down  and  condemned  nearly 
everything  we  had  including  motor  and  horse  transport, 
harness  and  other  equipment.  Later  on  we  realized  that 
it  had  been  very  wise  to  sacrifice  a  few  score  thousands 
of  dollars  worth  of  equipment  in  England  in  order  that 
standard  parts  and  replacements  of  equipment  could 
be  obtained  at  any  time  in  the  field  and  the  efficiency 
of  the  force  thereby  maintained  at  all  times.  The 
authorities  were  much  wiser  than  we  knew. 

Of  course  it  rained  on  the  morning  of  the  day  that 
the  King  came  down  to  review  the  Division ;  at  break- 
fast the  rain  hammered  the  tin  roof  of  our  mess  room 
at  Bustard  Camp  like  so  many  hailstones  and  the  out- 
look was  most  gloomy.  Later  on  it  cleared,  and  when 
the  guns  boomed  out  the  royal  salute  announcing  the  ar- 
rival of  His  Majesty,  the  rain  had  entirely  ceased. 

A  review  by  the  King  in  war  time  is  a  pretty  sure 
indication  that  the  division  will  move  shortly.  I  had  an 
excellent  point  of  vantage  on  a  little  hill  opposite  the 
saluting  base  where  the  King  and  Lord  Kitchener  stood. 
That  review  was  the  real  thing.  It  lacked,  perhaps, 
something  of  the  wildness  of  the  review  that  took  place 
on  the  sandy  plains  of  Valcartier,  but  it  had  a  dignity 
that  was  very  inspiring. 

29 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

Only  the  division  that  was  actually  going  across 
was  reviewed.  One  felt  that  it  was  the  last  review  that 
many  of  the  men  were  ever  destined  to  see  and  it 
seemed  to  be  peculiarly  fitting  that  before  they  left  for 
the  field  of  battle  they  should  see  that  figure, — the  head 
of  the  Empire — that  stood  for  freedom  and  that  intan- 
gible something  that  had  made  them  come  thousands 
of  miles  to  fight  and,  perhaps,  to  die. 

A  young  officer — Captain  Klotz  of  the  third 
battalion — of  German  descent  and  a  very  fine  boy,— 
sat  with  me  and  chatted  for  a  while  as  we  watched  the 
division  march  past.  Although  he  was  orderly  officer  of 
his  battalion  he  had  not  been  able  to  resist  the  tempta- 
tion to  slip  away  for  the  day  to  see  a  little  of  the  march 
past.  Poor  chap!  He  was  killed  at  the  second  battle  of 
Ypres  three  months  afterwards.  The  first  Canadian  di- 
vision as  it  swung  past  was  certainly  a  magnificent  spec- 
tacle and  I  was  quite  willing  to  agree  with  a  General 
who  told  me  later  in  the  day  that  though  he  had  been  at 
reviews  for  many  years  he  had  never  seen  such  a  fine 
body  of  men  in  the  whole  of  his  career.  The  King  and 
Lord  Kitchener  both  seemed  to  be  greatly  impressed 
with  the  division. 

Finally  the  time  did  arrive  for  the  division  to  leave 
and  one  night  it  disappeared — for  Southampton  every- 
body thought — though  an  officer  who  had  been  left  be- 
hind sick  was  unable  to  find  any  trace  of  it  later  on  in 
the  day  when  he  arrived  at  that  port.  Certainly  the 
British  do  not  tell  all  they  know. 

The  impedimenta  left  behind  in  camp  was  some- 
thing to  marvel  at,  and  included  pianos,  a  Ford  car, 

30 


ON  SALISBURY  PLAINS 

gramophones,  bayonets,  rifles  and  many  other  things. 
Why  a  man  should  leave  behind  his  rifle,  and  how  he 
managed  to  do  so  without  getting  caught,  will  probably 
always  remain  a  mystery.  The  first  Canadian  Division 
had  passed  on  to  the  great  adventure  in  Flanders. 


31 


CHAPTER  III 

EARLY  WAR  DAYS  IN  LONDON. 

IN  the  early  part  of  our  sojourn  in  England  I  was  sent 
to  London  on  duty.  On  the  surface  the  city  looked 
about  as  usual,  except  that  the  taxi-cabs,  buildings  and 
squares,  were  plastered  with  recruiting  posters,  the 
chief  ones  reading  "Your  King  and  Country  need  you" 
and  "Enlist  to-day."  After  you  had  read  them  a  couple 
of  thousand  times  they  met  your  eyes  with  no  more 
significance  than  do  the  bricks  in  a  wall  or  the  people 
in  a  crowd. 

London  at  night,  however,  was  much  different,  be- 
cause the  city  was  in  darkness.  The  system  of  darken- 
ing adopted  was  rather  amusing,  as  all  the  squares  and 
circuses,  which  in  other  times  were  most  brilliantly 
illuminated,  now  were  darker  than  the  streets,  the  con- 
trast making  them,  to  an  aviator,  as  distinguishable  as 
before.  Later  on  more  judgment  was  used  in  the  control 
of  lighting,  as  well  as  many  other  things  in  England. 

Soldiers  were  plentiful  on  the  streets  and  in  the 
theatres,  hotels  and  restaurants, — soldiers  on  leave  from 
the  various  camps.  But  we  were  more  inclined  to  notice 
the  tens  of  thousands  of  physically  fit  men  walking 
about  in  civilian  clothes.  Nobody  seemed  particularly 
disturbed  about  the  war.  Kitchener  was  raising  his 
army,  and  "the  Navy,  thank  God!  was  in  excellent 
shape.  Just  wait  till  the  Spring,  and  Emperor  Bill 


32 


EARLY  WAR  DAYS  IN  LONDON 

would  get  his  bumps.     We  are  willing  to  go  if  they 
need  us  but  not  till  they  do.    Why  worry?" 

In  Clubland  the  difference  was  very  marked — it 
had  been  deserted  by  the  younger  men,  and  the  clubs 
sheltered  only  a  few  of  the  older  men  who  had  nowhere 
else  to  go.  For,  be  it  said  to  the  eternal  glory  of  the 
man-about-town, — the  wealthy  knut  who  knew  little 
more  perhaps  than  to  run  an  expensive  car,  give  ex- 
pensive dinners  and  get  into  trouble — the  upper  class 
drone — that  he  was  among  the  first  to  volunteer  and  get 
into  active  service.  Perhaps  all  he  could  do  was  drive 
a  car;  if  so  he  did  it — drove  a  London  bus  out  at  the 
front,  or  a  wagon;  or  did  anything  else  at  which  he 
would  be  useful.  Many  of  the  idle  rich  young  men, 
and  the  majority  of  the  young  titled  men  of  England, 
rose  to  the  occasion  and  went  out  and  fought  and  died, 
and  many  now  lie  buried  in  Flanders  for  the  sake  of 
Old  England — for  the  freedom  of  the  world. 

These  posters  shouting  for  recruits  somehow  did 
not  look  like  England;  they  were  too  hysterical;  they 
were  not  effective :  London,  with  more  posters  per  head 
of  population  than  any  other  city  in  the  Empire,  re- 
cruited men  less  swiftly  than  any  other  place. 

Thousands  of  sight-seers  crowded  to  the  football 
matches  while  the  newspapers  vainly  lashed  themselves 
into  fury.  It  was  only  when  Lloyd  George  asked  for 
more  men,  and  gave  convincing  reasons  that  they  were 
needed,  that  the  country  responded.  Day  by  day  the 
newspapers  made  the  best  of  bad  news  from  the  front, 
and  day  by  day  did  the  readers  thereof  conclude  that 
England  was  doing  well,  and  they  "supposed  that  she 

33 
4 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

would  bungle  through."  No  man  of  prophetic  foresight 
had  yet  risen  to  say  "This  is  a  life  and  death  struggle  for 
us ;  we  need  every  man  in  the  country,  and  every  shilling 
to  win  the  war."  The  common  talk  was  that  we  had 
stepped  in  to  keep  our  treaty  with  France  and  to  assist 
poor  Belgium,  whose  neutrality  had  been  violated. 
Englishmen  did  not  feel  that  England's  fall  was  first 
and  last  the  object  of  Germany's  ambition.  They  did 
not  realize  that  Germany  saw  in  England  the  nation 
which  was  always  thwarting  her  and  frustrating  her 
desire  for  "a  place  in  the  sun." 

Should  the  theatres  be  kept  open?  should  German 
waiters  be  still  allowed  in  the  hotels?  should  German 
music  be  played  at  Queen's  Hall?  should  horse  rac- 
ing be  continued? — these  were  the  questions  whose  dis- 
cussion occupied  a  considerable  amount  of  space  in  the 
newspapers.  Of  course  the  theatres  kept  open,  German 
music  was  played,  and  horse  racing  continued :  A  large 
section  of  the  public  had  to  be  amused,  and  the  liveli- 
hood of  the  actors  and  actresses  and  their  relatives  de- 
pended upon  it;  if  all  German  music  were  eliminated 
there  would  be  little  left  to  choose  from;  and  the  im- 
portant racing  horse  industry  could  not  be  allowed  to 
languish  on  account  of  a  mere  vulgar  war. 

So  everything  went  on  as  before  war-time  except 
that  gradually  the  German  waiters  disappeared. 
"Business  as  usual"  was  the  slogan,  for  the  ordinary 
business  man  rather  fancied  that  he  belonged  to  a  nation 
great  enough  to  carry  on  war  as  a  side  issue  without 
seriously  altering  its  daily  routine. 


34 


EARLY  WAR  DAYS  IN  LONDON 

For  a  while  the  big  hotels  and  restaurants  had  a 
bad  time  of  it,  and  the  management  of  the  Cecil  and 
Savoy  thought  of  closing  down.  At  this  trying  junc- 
ture Sir  Sam  Hughes,  Minister  of  Militia  for  Canada, 
arrived  in  London  and  put  up  at  the  Savoy;  other  offi- 
cers came  to  see  him  and  stayed  there  also.  Temporary 
offices  were  opened ;  men  looking  for  contracts  frequent- 
ed the  place  and  the  Savoy  quickly  became  the  Cana- 
dian headquarters  in  London. 

Special  rates  for  rooms  were  given  Canadian  offi- 
cers and  it  was  possible  to  obtain  a  magnificently  fur- 
nished, steam-heated  room  for  no  more  than  was  paid 
at  other  hotels  for  much  inferior  accommodation.  The 
Savoy  Hotel,  warm,  comfortable  and  American  like, 
located  at  the  heart  of  things,  close  to  the  theatre  dis- 
trict and  the  War  Office,  had  a  "homey"  appeal  to  us, 
and  it  speedily  became  the  centre  of  all  things  Cana- 
dian in  London;  and  the  patronage  of  the  Canadians 
tided  it  over  a  bad  financial  period. 

If  you  knew  that  one  of  your  Canadian  friends  was 
in  London,  all  you  had  to  do  was  to  sit  in  the  rotunda 
of  the  Savoy  and  watch  the  door.  You  would  be  sure 
to  see  him  come  through  those  revolving  doors  some 
time  during  the  day.  In  that  rotunda  I  met  men  whom 
I  went  to  school  with,  men  who  lived  in  my  own  city, 
but  whom  I  had  not  seen  for  20  years;  others  whom 
I  met  there  had  travelled  all  over  creation  since  I  had 
last  seen  them.  It  soon  got  to  be  quite  the  natural 
thing  to  meet  old  friends  in  this  way. 

In  theatre  land  the  problem  play  had  disappeared 
as  if  by  magic.  Several  attempts  to  revive  former  suc- 

35 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

cesses  of  this  type  proved  absolute  failures  and  the  plays 
were  quickly  withdrawn ;  now  there  were  real  tragedies 
to  think  about,  and  the  old  threadbare,  domestic  tri- 
angle disappeared  from  the  boards.  Revues  and  musi- 
cal comedies  succeeded,  and  'The  Man  Who  Stayed  at 
Home"  a  war  spy  play  was  a  tremendous  success,  as 
were  the  comedies  "When  Knights  Were  Bold"  and 
"Potash  and  Perlmutter."  To  be  a  success  a  play  had 
to  have  the  merit  of  real  comedy,  or  touch  some  national 
sensibility  of  the  moment. 

No  new  great  literature  had  appeared,  nor  had  the 
tragedy  of  the  world  yet  brought  forth  any  great  poetry. 
Monographs  on  special  phases  of  German  character, 
thought  and  culture,  were  plentiful  in  the  bookstalls, 
and  translations  of  Bernhardi  and  Treitschke  sold  in 
vast  numbers. 

The  love  of  music,  so  strong  in  England,  was  shown 
by  the  crowded  attendances  at  the  Queen's  Hall  and  the 
Albert  Hall  concerts.  A  good  deal  of  Russian  music 
was  heard,  the  Russian  National  Anthem  being  played 
on  every  possible  occasion.  At  the  Christmas  season 
not  a  seat  was  empty  at  any  of  the  presentations  of  the 
Messiah  at  Albert  Hall.  Yet  curiously  enough  Eng- 
land had  banished  her  military  bands,  one  of  the 
most  effective  aids  to  recruiting,  and  it  was  only  after 
a  violent  newspaper  controversy  on  the  subject  had 
taken  place  that  she  used  them  again. 

Down  in  the  city  in  Cheapside  scarcely  a  uniform 
was  to  be  seen ;  the  heart  of  ancient  London  seemed  to 
beat  as  usual.  In  the  theatre  district  at  night,  particu- 
larly on  the  Strand,  Leicester  Square  and  Piccadilly 

36 


EARLY  WAR  DAYS  IN  LONDON 

Circus,  crowds  of  women  promenaded  as  usual,  like 
spiders  hunting  for  their  prey.  And  the  prey  was  there 
too,  wanting  to  be  hunted. 

This  is  one  of  the  great  tragedies  of  London, — the 
terrible  maelstrom  of  fallen  humanity  which  is  allowed 
to  circulate  there  year  after  year,  sweeping  into  its 
vortex  tens  and  hundreds  of  thousands  of  boys  and  girls, 
who,  but  for  it,  might  and  probably  would  escape.  In 
war  time  when  soldiers  were  involved,  it  was  more  ter- 
rible than  ever,  for  the  results,  as  the  medical  men  saw 
them,  were  disastrous  from  the  military  standpoint 
alone. 

From  this  great  ulcer  in  the  heart  of  London  a 
dealy  poison  passes  far  and  wide  into  the  national 
organism.  The  ulcer  is  there  still  for  the  knife  of  some 
strong  man  to  excise,  for  there  is  little  doubt  that  though 
restrictions  will  not  prevent  vice,  it  is  equally  true  that 
making  vice  open,  enticing  and  easy,  increases  it. 

During  that  first  winter,  tickets  for  the  theatre  were 
sold  at  half  price  to  men  in  uniform.  On  the  other 
hand,  an  officer's  uniform  seemed  to  be  the  signal  for 
increased  prices  in  the  shops,  particularly  in  the  smaller 
ones.  A  London  physician,  an  officer,  told  me  that 
when  he  went  shopping  he  always  dressed  in  civilian 
clothes  because  it  was  so  much  more  economical  to 
shop  as  a  civilian. 

The  badge  "Canada"  of;  course,  had  been  the 
badge  for  high  prices  from  the  day  we  landed  in  Ply- 
mouth. It  was  "Canada,  our  emblem  dear"  in  very 
truth.  It  was  well  known  that  the  Canadian  Tommy 
received  a  dollar  and  ten  cents  a  day,  whereas  the  Bri- 

37 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

tish  Tommy  received  only  25  cents,  and  it  was  assumed 
that  officers  were  correspodingly  better  paid  than  the 
British  officer,  while  as  a  matter  of  fact,  we  received 
less,  rank  for  rank.  The  question  of  overcharging 
Canadans  became  such  a  scandal  that  later  on  it  was 
brought  up  in  the  House  of  Commons  in  an  endeavour 
to  fix  prices  for  certain  commodities  in  the  Canadian 
Shorncliffe  area. 

The  story  is  told  of  a  Canadian  going  into  a  store 
and  asking  the  youngster  in  charge  the  price  of  some 
article.  The  youngster  called  up  stairs  and  the  answer 
came  back  Is.  lOd.  "But  it  is  a  Canadian"  said  the  child ; 
"Oh,  2s.  6d."  came  back  the  answer. 

The  war  in  France  was  but  faintly  felt  in  England 
in  those  early  days.  There  had  been  no  invasion  of 
English  soil  such  as  had  galvanized  France  into  a  united 
endeavour  to  repel  the  invader.  No  Zeppelins  had  yet 
dropped  bombs  on  England.  Great  Britain  had  sent 
an  expedition  to  France, — "An  Expeditionary  Force" 
it  was  called.  The  very  name  did  not  seem  even  to 
suggest  a  nation  in  arms.  And  yet  away  down  under- 
neath it  all  England  was  uneasy.  Well-informed  people 
whose  sons  were  at  the  front  knew  the  seriousness  of 
the  whole  business.  Casualties  had  returned  in  large 
numbers,  and  the  rolls  of  honour  published  showed 
the  terrible  hammering  England's  wonderful  little 
army  was  being  subjected  to  on  the  continent.  Those 
despised  Germans  had  made  great  headway,  and  there 
were  doubts  as  to  whether  the  French  were  sufficiently 
well  equipped  to  stand  the  tremendous  pressure  put 
upon  them. 

38 


EARLY  WAR  DAYS  IN  LONDON 

The  battle  off  Chili  had  only  been  wiped  out  by 
Sturdee's  victory,  and  the  exploits  of  certain  raiders  and 
submarines  made  the  Briton  realize  that  the  control  of 
the  oceans  of  the  earth  was  a  big  undertaking.  The 
rallying  of  the  colonies  to  his  assistance  touched  him 
greatly,  and  made  him  feel  proud ;  on  the  other  hand, 
strikes  for  higher  pay  in  munition  factories  and  ship 
yards  angered  and  disgusted  him. 

There  was  no  great  leadership  anywhere,  and  the 
Englishman  in  his  heart  of  hearts  knew  it.  Lloyd 
George,  whom  he  acknowledged  to  be  the  only  genius  in 
the  Government,  he  either  idolized  or  cursed,  accord- 
ing to  whether  he  approved  of  his  socialistic  ideas  or 
not.  Englishmen  I  talked  to,  even  in  France  later  on, 
fairly  foamed  at  the  mouth  when  the  little  Welshman's 
name  was  mentioned,  and  refused  to  read  the  "Times" 
which  they  said  was  run  by  "that  traitor  NorthclifTe." 
It  was  all  very  interesting  to  us,  who  hoped  against 
hope  that  the  man  who  to  our  perspective  was  the  one 
great  man  of  vision  would  be  given  the  opportunity  to 
become  the  man  of  action. 

It  was  when  one  reached  the  heart  of  things,  the 
War  Office,  that  one  began  to  realize  the  undercurrents 
which  were  being  set  up  in  the  national  life  as  a  result 
of  the  war.  In  the  court  yard  of  the  War  Office,  which 
was  carefully  guarded  by  policemen,  were  large  num- 
bers of  women,  young  and  old,  waiting  for  news  of  son 
or  husband,  wounded  or  killed.  The  looks  on  their  faces 
were  sufficient  evidence  of  tragedies  which  were  increas- 
ing from  day  to  day,  and  which  would  eventually  waken 
England.  Inside  the  door  was  a  reception  room  where 

39 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

those  who  had  business  of  any  sort  showed  their  cre- 
dentials, signed  the  necessary  form,  and  were  sent  on 
to  the  various  departments  to  charge  of  a  boy  scout. 
Cots  in  the  corridors,  and  specially  walled-off  offices 
indicated  the  expansion  going  on  in  the  various  depart- 
ments. 

The  war  office  authorities  were  going  at  the  prob- 
lem in  hand  is  a  most  unbusiness  like  way  as  far  as 
the  enlisting  of  recruits  was  concerned  but  already  had 
800,000  men  in  training  in  England.  Those  in  train- 
ing were  not  even  equipped  with  rifles  and  uniforms. 

After  all  the  fault-finding  in  Canada  before  we  left 
about  the  slowness  in  getting  us  away  it  was  interesting 
to  learn  that  our  contingent  had  probably  been  more 
quickly  outfitted  and  prepared  for  the  field  than  any 
other  territorial  or  militia  unit  in  the  Empire. 

In  the  course  of  my  stay  I  dined  at  many  of  the 
famous  London  restaurants,  but  the  larger  ones  were 
usually  empty  and  depressing.  One  had  to  eat  some- 
where and  one  might  as  well  take  every  possible  oppor- 
tunity of  seeing  this  phase  of  life  in  London  in  war  time. 
One  night  at  the  "Carlton"  there  were  not  twenty 
others  present;  even  the  waiters  seemed  to  be  dejected, 
probably  at  the  falling  off  of  their  revenue  from  tips, 
and  we  left  as  soon  as  possible  and  went  over  to  the 
Royal  Automobile  Club  in  search  of  something  brighter. 
There  we  found  a  cheery  log  fire  and  sat  in  front  of  it 
until  early  morning,  talking  of  the  war. 

One  heard  the  Russian  and  French  national  an- 
thems very  frequently,  not  only  in  the  streets,  but  in 
the  theatres  and  public  performances,  such  as  those  in 

40 


EARLY  WAR  DAYS  IN  LONDON 

Queen's  Hall.  The  finest  playing  of  any  national 
anthem  that  I  have  ever  listened  to  was  the  London 
Symphony  Orchestra's  rendering  of  The  Russian 
National  Anthem  one  Monday  night  with  SafanofI 
conducting;  it  was  sublime.  I  had  heard  the  same 
number  on  the  preceding  day  in  the  same  hall  by 
another  orchestra  and  the  difference  was  remarkable; 
—the  first  one  sounding  like  an  amateur  organization 
in  comparison.  No  orchestra  ever  impressed  me  as 
did  the  London  Symphony  Orchestra,  with  the  possible 
exception  of  the  Boston  Symphony  Orchestra. 

To  be  in  London,  not  sixty  miles  from  the  firing 
line,  in  a  city  firmly  convinced  of  coming  Zeppelin  raids 
and  prepared  for  naval  raids,  and  find  the  press  discuss- 
ing the  plays  and  the  music  of  the  day  seemed  strange 
indeed.  It  must  have  made  the  men  in  the  trenches 
nearly  mad  to  realize  that  while  they  were  fighting 
under  the  most  adverse  conditions  day  by  day  and  being 
killed  in  the  defence  of  their  homeland,  there  were  30,- 
000  slackers  at  one  football  match  at  home. 

England  is  a  strange  country.  We  felt  that  per- 
haps if  a  force  of  50,000  or  100,000  Germans  would 
land  in  England  she  would  waken  from  the  lotig  sleep 
she  had  slept  since  her  shores  had  been  invaded  by 
William  the  Conqueror.  30,000  men  could  watch  a 
football  match  at  the  very  moment  the  British  line  in 
Flanders  was  actually  so  thin  that  if  the  Germans  had 
tried  to  advance  there  was  nothing  to  stop  them.  For- 
tunately, for  the  moment,  the  enemy,  too,  was  exhausted 
and  before  he  could  recuperate  our  reinforcements 
had  arrived. 

41 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

The  dying  session  of  parliament  was  worth  going 
to  see;  Bonar  Law,  Beresford,  McKenna,  and  Winston 
Churchill  spoke.  The  latter  made  his  defence  of  the 
Navy  which  was  as  famous  and  as  reassuring  to  the 
country  as  Kitchener's  statement  in  the  house  of  Lords 
the  day  before  had  been  in  regard  to  the  Army.  Mr. 
Bonar  Law  was  the  smoothest  of  the  speakers;  Church- 
ill gave  one  the  impression  of  having  much  force  of 
character,  despite  his  stuttering,  but  Bonar  Law  was 
the  man  you  felt  could  be  trusted  to  look  upon  any 
proposition  with  coolness  and  play  the  safe  game  for 
his  country. 

When  the  House  was  adjourned  until  February 
2nd,  there  were  very  few  members  left.  This  closing 
of  the  House  of  Parliament  after  a  three  weeks'  session 
in  war  time  and  after  the  raising  of  billions  of  dollars 
of  war  loan  by  public  subscription  was  remarkable 
for  its  simplicity.  There  was  no  fuss  or  feathers,  no 
music  or  formality.  The  members  just  strolled  out— 
those  that  happened  to  be  there. 

From  the  great  window  of  the  Savoy  Hotel,  I 
watched  the  funeral  of  Lord  Roberts,  the  national  hero. 
The  Thames  embankment  could  be  seen,  but,  though 
a  garden  of  not  fifty  yards  in  width  separated  the  build- 
ing from  the  embankment,  the  fog  was  thick  enough 
to  make  the  people  as  indistinct  as  though  they  had 
been  half  a  mile  away.  Beyond  the  embankment  the 
grey  wall  of  fog  shut  out  everything  but  an  occasional 
gull  which  flitted  out  for  a  moment  and  disappeared 
again. 

The  embankment  road  was  lined  with  Highland 

42 


EARLY  WAR  DAYS  IN  LONDON 

soldiers  in  khaki  greatcoats  and  Scotch  caps,  drawn  up 
in  quarter  companies,  while  on  either  side  of  the  road 
stood  a  solid  black  wall  of  humanity — waiting,  some 
with  umbrellas  up  to  protect  them  from  the  fine  drizzle. 
Not  a  hundred  yards  away  Cleopatra's  needle  stood  like 
a  tall  sentinel  in  the  mist,  and  one  wondered  what  tales 
of  battle  and  heroic  deeds  it  could  tell,  if  it  could  speak. 
One  could  imagine  that  during  the  long  ages  it  must 
have  witnessed  other  magnificent  funerals  of  kings  and 
heroes,  and  smiled,  perhaps,  at  the  brevity  of  human 
life. 

The  silence  was  broken  by  the  long  roll  of  kettle- 
drums, and  the  strains  of  Chopin's  funeral  march 
floated  to  us  through  the  heavy  air;  sadder  than  ever 
before  they  seemed  to  me,  and  yet,  too,  more  dignified 
than  ever  before.  Then  along  the  embankment,  past 
Cleopatra's  needle,  the  head  of  the  procession  burst  up 
through  the  fog  as  though  coming  out  of  the  ground. 

The  band  came  first,  followed  by  the  London  Scot- 
tish with  arms  reversed,  the  brass  butts  of  the  guns 
visible  before  the  soldiers  themselves,  making  a  curious 
reflection  in  the  fog. 

Then  followed  other  regiments  of  infantry,  squad- 
rons of  horses,  Indian  troops  with  strangely-laden 
mules,  guns;  then,  more  cavalry.  The  horses  sent  out 
great  spurts  of  steam  from  their  nostrils  into  the  cold 
raw  air. 

Then  a  space,  and  the  funeral  car  drawn  by 
six  horses  with  riders  approached.  The  coffin,  covered 
with  a  Union  Jack,  looked  very  small,  and  a  big  lump 
came  into  my  throat  as  I  realized  that  this  was  all  that 

43 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

remained  of  the  great  little  soldier,  whose  motor  car  not 
three  weeks  before  at  Salisbury  Plain  had  stopped  be- 
side mine,  and  whose  deeply  seamed  and  furrowed  face 
I  had  studied  with  the  greatest  interest,  remarking  then 
that  he  looked  very,  very  old. 

After  the  car,  the  General's  horse,  with  boots  re- 
versed in  the  stirrups,  was  led, — riderless. 

Next  came  a  dozen  or  more  coaches  bearing  the 
mourners,  including  the  King,  and  the  pall-bearers,  one 
of  whom  was  Lord  Kitchener.  Squadron  after  squad- 
ron of  cavalry  filed  past  two  and  two,  until  one  felt 
the  procession  was  never  going  to  end.  The  fog  thinned 
somewhat,  and  a  tug  and  scow  whirled  past  down  the 
river  on  the  rapidly  flowing  tide,  disappearing  again 
into  the  mist. 

As  the  last  horses  disappeared,  the  crowd  began  to 
move;  motor  cars  appeared;  and  the  cortege  of  one  of 
the  greatest  British  generals  passed  on  to  St.  Paul's,  the 
last  resting  place  of  the  great  soldiers  and  sailors  of  the 
Empire. 

One  felt  that  Lord  Roberts  was  greater  than  all 
those  soldiers  who  had  gone  before  him,  for  his  life  had 
been  without  blemish.  Seldom — indeed,  never  before 
— had  any  British  soldier  or  statesman  the  opportunity 
to  say  to  the  nation  "I  told  you  so."  For  ten  years  with- 
out avail,  Lord  Roberts  had  been  warning  the  nation 
about  the  great  need  of  being  prepared  for  a  war  that 
was  bound  to  come;  he  had  tried  by  every  possible 
means  to  wake  it  from  its  sleep  and  had  failed;  and 
when  the  great  war  came  as  he  said  it  would,  he  offered 
no  word  in  the  way  or  reproach  or  self  glorification, 

44 


EARLY  WAR  DAYS  IN  LONDON 

\ 

but  bent  all  his  energies  to  help  his  Empire  to  his 
utmost  in  the  hour  of  her  greatest  need.  And  although 
he  "passed  over"  before  victory  had  come  to  us,  he 
had  seen  enough  to  know  that  the  ultimate  result  would 
bring  security  to  the  Empire  and  freedom  to  the  human 
race. 


45 


CHAPTER  IV. 

DAYS  WHEN  THINGS  WENT  WRONG. 

ONE  day  things  went  wrong;  they  are  always  going 
wrong  in  the  army, — that  is  part  of  the  game.    It 
takes  a  considerable  portion  of  an  officer's  time  correct^ 
ing    mistakes    of    brother    officers;    otherwise    there 
wouldn't  be  much  to  do  in  peace  times. 

Well,  as  I  was  saying,  things  went  wrong.  We  had 
been  on  the  qui  vive  for  two  weeks,  expecting  a  telegram 
from  the  war  office  to  leave  for  France.  We  had  every- 
thing ready  to  pack  aboard  the  motor  truck  in  one  hour. 
Then,  by  diligent  enquiry,  we  discovered  that  our  truck 
was  to  go  to  France  when  a  spare  convoy  of  trucks  went 
over. 

The  Colonel  in  charge  at  Bulford  Camp  said  it 
would  not  be  this  week — there  might  possibly  be  a 
convoy  going  over  the  next  week  or  the  week  after— 
or  next  month — he  could  not  really  say  when.  He  had 
a  letter  from  the  war  office  on  his  desk  about  the  matter 
and  would  notify  us  at  the  earliest  possible  moment. 

We  went  away  tearing  our  hair  out,  and  we  have 
no  superfluous  hair  to  lose.  We  held  a  council  of  war. 
We  leaped  into  our  trusty  car  and  sped  swiftly  into 
Salisbury.  The  Canadian  General,  the  object  of  our 
quest,  had  just  left  for  Shorncliff  and  would  be  back, 
perhaps,  in  two  or  three  days.  We  hunted  for  the 
A.A.  &  Q.M.G.  of  the  2nd  Canadian  Division.  After 
searching  the  register  of  three  hotels  we  ran  across  an 

46 


DAYS  WHEN  THINGS  WENT  WRONG 

officer  who  said  that  the  A.A.  &  Q.M.G.  had  also  gone 
to  Shorncliff.  We  had  arrived  too  late  to  obtain  assis- 
tance from  this  quarter. 

As  it  was  now  after  7  o'clock  we  had  to  have  dinner. 
This  was  on  ordeal  for  we  hated  the  Salisbury  hotels; 
they  had  been  so  crowded  that  winter  with  Canadian 
officers  and  their  wives  that  the  proprietors  had  lost 
their  heads.  They  didn't  care  whether  they  served 
you  or  not.  One  of  them  even  paid  a  "boots"  to  stand 
at  the  door  and  insult  possible  guests,  the  idea  being  to 
turn  as  many  away  as  possible.  The  hotel  keepers  must 
have  heaped  up  untold  wealth  that  winter,  and  the 
abundance  of  custom  had  ruined  their  sense  of  hospi- 
tality. 

So  we  discarded  the  idea  of  a  hotel  dinner.  We 
referred  to  our  chauffeur,  who  was  "some  chauffeur, 
believe  me."  "What  about  that  little  chop  house  (The 
Silver  Grill')  which  he  had  frequently  lauded  with  ful- 
some praise?"  He  did  not  now  wax  enthusiastic — a 
point  we  noted,  and  of  which  we  found  the  explanation 
—but  he  drove  us  there. 

The  Silver  Grill  was  a  curious  old  place,  with 
winding  stair-case,  ancient  beamed  ceilings  in  the  smok- 
ing-room, and  a  general  appearance  indicating  that  it 
had  seen  service  at  least  two  hundred  years.  Climbing 
to  the  attic,  we  entered  a  little  dining  room,  perhaps 
twenty  feet  long,  with  room  for  about  sixteen  diners. 
The  tables  were  occupied  chiefly  by  officers,  and  we 
took  the  settee  next  the  wall  and  ordered  the  chef 
d'ceuvre — a  steak  smothered  in  onions,  and  French  fried 
potatoes. 

47 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

Norah,  the  one  serving  maid,  a  pretty  little  thing, 
was  evidently  a  great  favorite  with  the  habituees  of  the 
place.  The  wife  of  the  proprietor  was  a  handsome  big 
woman  dressed  in  a  close  fitting  black  frock,  with  the 
figure  of  a  Venus  de  Milo.  She  hovered  about  talking 
to  the  men  and  acting  "mother"  to  them  all.  One 
officer  was  plainly  "overseas".  The  landlady  watched 
him  like  a  sister,  got  him  to  put  his  hat  and  coat  on 
properly  and  steered  him  past  the  smoking-room  and 
bar  to  the  front  door,  and  she  was  careful  to  explain  to 
us  two,  knowing  we  were  Canadians,  "I  have  never 
seen  Captain  X  like  that  before.  You  know  we  have  be- 
come very  fond  of  the  Canadians.  Poor  Lt. — who  was 
killed  last  week  came  to  wish  me  good-bye."  And, 
dropping  into  a  chair  beside  us,  she  talked  of  this  and 
that  Canadian  officer;  of  how  nearly  all  the  medical 
men  and  veterinary  officers  had  dined  at  the  Grill ;  she 
told  us  also  about  her  three  children,  including  the  baby 
which  was  now  eight  months  old  and  could  talk. 

By  this  time  all  the  diners  had  gone  except  one, 
a  civilian,  sitting  in  the  farthest  corner  of  the  room. 
The  land-lady  had  again  begun  to  talk  about  the  Cana- 
dians, when  the  civilian  suddenly  interrupted  sneer- 
ingly  "The  Canadians!  what  good  are  they?  An  ex- 
pense to  the  country.  What  have  they  done?  If  I 
had  my  way  I'd  hang  every  one  of  them." 

For  a  moment  we  were  petrified  with  anger.  "What 
do  you  mean?"  I  finally  managed  to  demand. 

"Oh!  you  know"  he  sneered. 

"No  I  don't"  I  returned;  "that  is  strange  talk;  you 
will  have  to  explain  yourself." 

48 


DAYS  WHEN  THINGS  WENT  WRONG 

"I  don't  need  to  explain  anything"  he  said. 

"Then  allow  me  to  tell  you  that  you  are  a  d— 
liar"  put  in  Captain  E —  glaring  at  the  man  ferocious- 
ly; "I  say  you  are  a  d —  liar"  repeated  the  Captain  with 
greater  emphasis  and  deliberation. 

But  the  cad  was  very  thick-skinned;  he  made  not 
the  slightest  show  of  resentment  at  the  opprobrious 
epithet.  So  we  got  up  and  walked  over  to  him. 

"You  miserable  shrimp"  said  Captain  E —  as  he 
stood  over  the  fellow  with  hands  a-twitching  to  take 
hold  of  him.  "You  mean,  skulking  coward,  to  talk  like 
that  of  men  who  have  come  over  to  fight  in  the  place  of 
wretched  gutter-snipes  and  quitters  like  you." 

"Three  of  us  here  are  Canadians"  I  added,  "and 
if  you  will  be  so  accomodating  as  to  step  outside,  any 
one  of  us  will  be  delighted  to  give  you  the  darndest 
licking  you  ever  got  in  your  life." 

The  skulker  didn't  even  move.  Captain  E —  got 
worked  up  to  the  point  of  explosion  as  he  watched  the 
fellow  unconcernedly  keep  on  eating.  "You  snivelling 
cur  "I've  a  good  mind  to  rub  your  face  in  that  gravy, 
by  G —  I  will  rub  it  in  that  gravy!"  exploded  the  Cap- 
tain, and  in  the  instant  he  seized  the  dinner-plate  in 
one  hand  and  the  fellow's  head  in  the  other  and  brought 
them  quickly  together,  rubbing  the  man's  chin  and  nose 
briskly  round  and  round  in  the  mixture  of  congealing 
gravy  and  potatoes. 

"Be  very  careful  what  you  are  about"  sputtered  the 
creature,  looking  up  when  Captain  E —  had  desisted, 
and  wiping  the  streaming  grease  from  his  face  with 
his  pocket-handkerchief. 

49 
5 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

It  was  tremendously  ludicrous;  the  utter  spine- 
lessness  of  the  creature  so  at  variance  with  the  boastful 
scorn  of  his  previous  words  and  tone  so  obviously 
showed  him  to  be  a  coward  that  all  we  could  do  was 
laugh  and  turn  away.  You  could  no  more  think  of  strik- 
ing that  weak,  backboneless  poltroon  than  of  hitting  a 
six  months'  old  baby. 

We  tendered  the  landlady  a  sovereign  in  payment 
for  our  dinner,  but  she  only  kept  eying  with  intense 
anger  and  disgust  and  shame  this  wretched  specimen  of 
a  fellow-countryman  who  had  wantonly  insulted  two  of 
her  colonial  guests  in  her  house  and  in  her  presence. 
During  the  gravy-rubbing  performance  she  had  run 
downstairs  to  tell  her  husband  in  case  there  should  be 
a  "scene,"  and  he  had  retailed  the  story  to  the  crowd 
of  "select  patrons"  gathered  in  the  little  smoking-room. 
Again  we  called  the  lady's  attention  to  the  proffered 
coin,  but  in  her  agitation,  it  took  her  at  least  five  minutes 
to  total  our  bill  correctly. 

We  offered  our  apologies  for  our  forcible  language, 
but  she  considered  no  apology  necessary.  "You  were 
insulted  in  my  house"  she  said,  "and  I  admire  you  for 
the  stand  you  took.  That  man  will  never  enter  this 
place  again."  Following  us  downstairs  she  begged  us 
to  step  into  the  smoking-room  "just  a  minute,  to  see 
that  all  our  customers  are  not  like  that  one"  and  when 
she  thought  we  were  not  going  to  accede  to  her  request 
she  laid  a  hand  on  my  arm  and  almost  beseeched  me  to 
come  back  and  have  a  cup  of  coffee  or  something  to 
drink. 

Her  husband,  a  fine  looking,  tall,  curly-headed 

50 


DAYS  WHEN  THINGS  WENT  WRONG 

Englishman,  seconded  her  invitation,  and  we  went  back 
to  the  smoking-room.  As  we  entered,  every  man  stood 
up  and  bowed,  and  several  made  room  for  us.  They 
had  heard  the  story,  and,  by  their  reception  of  us  they 
tried  to  show  that  they  strongly  disapproved  of  their 
countryman's  insult  to  the  colonials. 

A  few  minutes  afterwards,  the  clock  struck  nine, 
and  the  doors  were  closed  upon  all  but  Captain  Ellis 
and  myself.  Nothing  was  too  good  for  us,  and  to  the 
accompaniment  of  numerous  cups  of  coffee,  brought  by 
Norah,  we  talked  away  till  ten  o'clock.  Both  the  land- 
lord and  his  wife  walked  out  to  our  car  with  us,  and 
continued  to  offer  their  regrets  for  the  treatment  which 
we  had  received. 

By  the  time  we  got  "home"  we  were  fairly  cooled 
off,  and  we  went  to  bed  that  night  with  the  proud  feel- 
ing that  we  had  saved  the  name  of  Canada. 

Another  time  "things  went  wrong"  was  one  Satur- 
day afternoon  when  we  took  a  half-day  off.  It  was  not 
that  we  needed  the  holiday  from  overwork,  because, 
for  two  weeks,  three  of  the  four  of  us  had  been  doing 
nothing.  The  fourth  man,  a  captain  of  Highland  de- 
scent, had,  unlike  the  rest  of  us,  really  been  working 
hard.  Yet  we  all  needed  the  holiday,  for  loafing  any- 
where is  usually  the  hardest  work  in  the  world;  but 
loafing  on  the  edge  of  Salisbury  Plain  with  little  to 
see  was  work  even  harder  than  the  hardest.  Napoleon 
is  said  to  have  remarked  that  "war  is  made  up  of  short 
periods  of  intense  activity  followed  by  much  longer 
periods  of  enforced  idleness"  or  something  to  that  effect. 
Of  the  "intense  activity"  of  war  we  as  yet  had  had  no 

51 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

experience  but  with  "enforced  idleness,"  we  were  all 
too  distressingly  familiar.  In  civilian  life  we  had  been 
very  busy  men ;  and  here  we  had  been  plunged  into  a 
world  where  for  months  at  a  time  there  was  almost 
nothing  to  do — and  what  was  worse,  there  was  no  place 
to  go  to  and  forget  about  it. 

So,  after  a  hard  two-week's  work  doing  nothing, 
we  studied  the  map  and  decided  that  the  sea  was  within 
easy  range  of  our  four-cylinder  thirty.  Accordingly  we 
struck  out  for  the  sea,  followed  the  track  of  the  little 
river  Avon,  which  flows  past  Salisbury  Plain,  through 
Amesbury  and  the  ancient  city  of  Salisbury  and  empties 
into  the  British  channel  at  Christchurch. 

It  was  a  glorious  March  afternoon,  with  intervals 
of  brilliant  sunshine;  the  roads  were  good,  and  we 
rolled  along  through  the  little  English  villages  with 
their  thatched-roofs,  at  a  speed  which  quickly  brought 
us  to  the  New  Forest.  All  of  a  sudden  a  strange,  famil- 
iar tang  in  the  air  thrilled  us.  Every  man  sat  instantly 
erect  and  gulped  down,  in  wonderment  at  his  own  ac- 
tion, a  succession  of  great,  deep  satisfying  breaths : 
And  then  the  explanation  broke  from  two  of  us  at  the 
same  moment,  "Canada!"  It  was  the  familiar  Cana- 
dian smell  of  the  autumn  forest  fires  that  had  for  the 
moment  penetrated  from  the  outward  senses  to  the  in- 
most soul  of  each  and  it  left  us  for  the  moment  just  the 
least  bit  homesick. 

Less  than  an  hour  and  a  half  brought  us  to  the 
prosperous  city  of  Bournemouth,  filled  with  the  omni- 
present "Tommy."  The  sea  looked  mighty  good  to 
us,  for  we  hadn't  seen  it  since  our  landing  in  October, 

52 


DAYS  WHEN  THINGS  WENT  WRONG 

though  we  had  seen  plenty  of  water — rain  water — since. 
We  raced  our  car  along  the  beach,  got  out  and  snap- 
shotted one  another,  admired  the  views,  and  cut  up 
generally  like  a  gang  of  boys  let  loose  from  school. 
Then  somebody  said  "tea,"  and  we  drove  to  a  little 
rather  suspicious  looking  "Pub"  on  the  beach. 

There  we  got  tea  and  toast  but  we  didn't  stay  long, 
for  out  of  the  window  we  could  see  the  chauffeur  under- 
cross-fire  of  a  policeman,  and  in  England  that  always 
means  trouble. 

An  itinerant  dog  fancier  had  two  diminutive  "Nor- 
wegian truffle  'unters"  which  he  was  anxious  to  part 
with,  but  we  couldn't  wait  to  talk  to  him.  Nor  had  we 
time  to  ask  him  whether  truffle  growing  was  an  industry 
in  Norway,  or  whether  the  substituting  of  dogs  for  pigs 
in  hunting  truffles  was  a  recent  innovation. 

The  Cop  had  been  watching  for  us  from  across  the 
way,  and  we  were  hardly  out  when  he  was  already  upon 
us."  "Excuse  me,  sir,  but  you  'aven't  a  hidentification 
number  on  your  car"  said  the  Cop. 

"We  have  not"  I  replied,  "what  is  the  sense  of  hav- 
ing a  number?" 

"To  hidentify  the  car,  sir,"  said  the  Cop. 

"Can't  you  identify  the  car  with  that  label  on"  I 
queried,  pointing  to  the  bonnet  upon  which  was  a  label 
reading:  Canadian  Government;  the  car  also  had  three 
O.H.M.S.  signs  upon  it. 

"Our  orders  is,  sir,  to  see  that  all  cars  on  'is 
Majesty's  service  'ave  Hidentification  numbers"  persist- 
ed the  Cop. 

"We  are  very  sorry,"  I  replied,  "that  we  had  our 

S3 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

identification  all  printed  out  so  that  you  could  read  it, 
instead  of  getting  a  number;  it  was  stupid  of  us." 

"Orders  is  orders"  said  the  Cop. 

"You  people  make  me  sick"  suddenly  broke  in 
Mac.  "We  came  over  here  to  fight  for  you  and  all  you 
do  for  us  is  make  it  as  damned  disagreeable  as  possible; 
you  are  a  miserable  people." 

"Pardon  me,  sir"  said  the  Cop  softly,  "I  thought 
I  was  speaking  to  a  gentleman."  During  the  contro- 
versy we  had  got  into  our  car  and  without  ceremony  we 
drove  off,  leaving  behind  us  a  discomfited  policeman. 
Fortunately  Mac  had  not  heard  the  parting  remark  of 
the  policeman.  Had  he  done  so  it  is  doubtful  if  we 
would  have  left  Bournemouth  that  night,  for  heaven 
only  knows  what  would  have  happened  to  that  police- 
man. When  I  chaffed  him  by  repeating  the  police- 
man's sally  when  we  were  a  mile  away,  Mac  was  for 
a  moment  knocked  speechless  with  anger,  then  be 
begged  us  to  go  back  and  help  him  find  the  policeman. 

Having  escaped  the  arm  of  the  law  we  went  for  a 
little  drive  about  town,  with  its  wonderful  shops:  the 
shops  of  Bournemouth  are  the  best  I  have  seen  in  Eng- 
land, and  are  rivalled  only  by  those  of  Glasgow.  Then 
we  drew  up  at  the  best  hotel  in  town — "The  Royal  Bath 
Hotel,"  which,  with  its  long  low  facade  and  its  lack  of 
upper  stories  looked  more  like  a  luxurious  club  house 
than  a  modern  hotel. 

The  main  lounge  was  something  to  marvel  at. 
Apparently  it  had  been  given  over  to  a  band  of  decora- 
tors and  furnishers  gone  delirious,  for  the  evidence  of 
their  delirium  was  to  be  seen  on  every  side.  The  walls 

54 


DAYS  WHEN  THINGS  WENT  WRONG 

were  all  broken  up :  One  wall  was  covered  with  hang- 
ings; two  parts  of  the  remainder  had  an  upper  border 
of  hand-painted  men  in  battle  array;  a  glass  wall 
through  which  the  dining-room  could  be  seen  made  a 
third ;  and  the  fourth  was  occupied  by  a  balcony  from 
which  one  descended  scarlet  carpeted  stairways  into 
the  room. 

The  woodwork  was  a  hideous  golden-oak.  The 
ceiling  was  broken  by  a  series  of  beams  radiating  un- 
evenly from  one  annular  space,  in  all  directions,  and 
with  no  apparent  design.  The  furniture  was  rattan 
and  plush,  upholstered  and  plain,  and  was  crowded  to- 
gether with  a  few  writing  tables  scattered  here  and 
there.  It  was  a  discordant  orgie  of  decorative  effects 
and  the  result  was  unutterably  depressing. 

We  sank  into  chairs  and  gazed  about  us  in  awe. 
No  hotel  had  ever  affected  any  of  us  like  this  before. 
At  first  we  talked  in  whispers;  then  as  our  courage 
revived,  we  became  critical.  Then  somebody  thought 
of  having  a  "Scoot";  tremulously  he  pressed  the  button 
for  the  waiter.  The  waiter  came  and  they  had  two 
"Scoots"  each.  Then  somebody  made  a  funny  remark 
and  one  of  us  laughed  out  loud.  Suddenly  the  laugher 
stopped  and  said,  "I  feel  as  if  I  ought  not  to  laugh;  I 
feel  that  nobody  ever  laughed  in  this  place  before." 

Dinner  time  approached.  Old  ladies  in  wonderful 
dresses  began  to  appear,  followed  by  old  English  gentle- 
men in  dress  clothes.  The  dining-room  began  to  fill  up. 
We  decided  to  wait  till  the  room  was  nearly  full  before 
going  in  so  that  we  could  get  an  idea  of  the  fashionable 
watering  place  people  of  England.  Somebody  thought 

55 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

that  it  would  be  as  well  to  reserve  a  table,  and  Captain 
R —  was  deputed  to  do  so.  In  fifteen  minutes  he  came 
back  twisting  his  black  moustache  and  looking  de- 
pressed. 

"Nothing  doing,"  he  reported  in  disappointment. 

"What!"  we  cried. 

"Nothing  doing"  he  repeated  mechanically.  "We 
may  possibly  get  a  table  after  8.30." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say"  cried  Mac,  jumping  from 
his  chair  in  a  rage,  "that  we  can't  get  anything  to  eat?" 
Captain  R —  nodded.  "Let's  leave  this  d —  morgue; 
I  hate  it  anyway"  stormed  Mac,  and  we  filed  sadly  out. 

In  the  hall  we  had  a  try  with  the  head  clerk,  and 
another  with  the  head  waiter,  but  it  was  no  use.  "Guests 
must  be  served  first"  was  the  only  argument;  pointing 
out  that  there  were  a  dozen  tables  yet  unset  made  no 
difference.  Our  chauffeur  had  gone,  so  we  left  our 
address  for  him,  ordered  a  taxi,  and  drove  to  the  Bur- 
lington Hotel  two  miles  away.  Before  dismissing  the 
taxi  we  took  the  precaution  of  seeing  that  we  could  get 
dinner,  and  finding  that  the  hotel  authorities  agreed  to 
furnish  us  with  a  meal  we  clambered  out;  after  divest- 
ing ourselves  of  our  overcoats  we  were  ushered  into 
a  dining  room  crowded  with  beautiful  women  and, 
mostly,  ugly  men.  There  were  some  hummers  among 
the  women. 

The  relief  at  the  change  from  the  dismal,  delirious- 
ly-decorated hotel  to  this  bright,  cheery  room,  was  to 
great  that  we  suddenly  grew  exceedingly  gay  and  en- 
joyed ourselves  hugely.  A  little  concert  afterwards  add- 


56 


DAYS  WHEN  THINGS  WENT  WRONG 

cd  to  the  enjoyment,  which  was  only  slightly  marred 
by  a  bill  for  forty-two  shillings. 

Our  homeward  journey  was  through  little  villages 
all  asleep,  and  silent  as  the  adjacent  churchyards;  and 
as  we  two  tumbled  into  our  cots  at  midnight  we  voted 
that  we  had  spent  "a  fine  day"  in  spite  of  the  mischiev- 
ous  tendency  of  things  "to  go  wrong." 

Another  of  these  "days"  came  later.  We  had  been 
waiting  at  Bulford  Cottage  for  three  weeks  for  orders 
from  the  war  office  to  leave  for  France,  and  we  were 
growing  decidedly  fidgety.  The  fine  weather  feeling  of 
Spring  in  the  air  may  have  had  something  to  do  with  our 
restlessness.  The  buds  were  swelling  on  the  great  trees 
near  by,  and  the  leaves  had  actually  broken  from  their 
bonds  on  some  of  the  hedges.  The  air  was  full  of  bird 
songs ;  the  lark  in  particular  seemed  to  be  mad  with  the 
joy  of  springtime.  At  Bulford  Manor  I  had  picked 
the  first  wall-flowers  in  bloom  in  the  open  garden;  Ro- 
man Hyacinths,  Daffodils,  Snowdrops,  English  daisies, 
and  another  little  unfamiliar  white  flower  were  in 
blossom,  and  even  the  Japonica  was  bursting  into  scarlet 
against  the  sunny  walls. 

It  was  a  pleasant  time  for  loafing  and  under  any 
other  circumstances  we  would  have  enjoyed  it;  but  this 
was  war  time.  Already  our  Canadian  Division  had 
been  at  the  front  for  four  weeks  and  here  were  we  doing 
nothing,  when  we  might  have  been  making  ourselves 
useful  at  the  front.  The  war  office  was  advertising  for 
"one  hundred  sanitary  officers  who  would  be  of  vital 
service  to  the  force  in  the  field"  and  here  were  two  of 
us,  with  long  experience  in  practical  sanitation  and 

57 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

eager  to  make  use  of  that  experience,  idling  in  the 
valley  of  the  Avon  on  Salisbury  Plain. 

Our  chief  was  in  France,  and  in  our  impatience 
we  concluded  that  something  had  gone  wrong  at  the 
war  office  in  regard  to  our  little  unit.  The  only  way 
to  find  out  was  to  go  to  London;  so  we  set  out, — the 
Medical  Officer  of  Health  of  Ottawa,  Captain  Lomer; 
the  provincial  bacteriologist  of  Alberta,  Captain  Ran- 
kin;  and  myself.  We  left  Bulford  at  eleven  o'clock,  or 
to  be  precise,  at  five  minutes  to  eleven.  We  stopped 
twenty  minutes  at  Andover  to  send  a  cablegram,  and 
were  held  up  at  a  level  crossing  for  five  minutes.  At 
one  thirty  we  passed  the  official  centre  of  London,  Hyde 
Park  corner,  and  were  having  our  dinner  in  the  Mar- 
guereta  Restaurant  in  Oxford  Street  at  a  quarter  to  two. 
We  therefore  had  covered  the  distance  of  ninety-eight 
miles  in  two  hours  and  fifteen  minutes  actual  travelling 
time,  or  at  an  average  speed  of  nearly  forty-four  miles 
an  hour.  At  one  time  our  indicator  registered  sixty- 
five  miles  an  hour  and  for  quite  a  number  of  miles  we 
travelled  steadily  at  fifty-six  miles  an  hour.  Of  course 
this  was  in  England,  where  roads  are  as  smooth  as  as- 
phalt and  where  raised  or  sunken  culverts,  the  curse 
of  motorists,  are  unknown. 

We  did  enjoy  that  Bohemian  dinner.  We  had  all 
the  things  that  one  does  not  have  in  a  military  mess  on 
Salisbury  Plain.  Hors  d'ceuvres,  salad,  fish,  duck,  and 
so  forth.  We  were  just  finishing,  and  had  lit  our  cigar- 
ettes while  waiting  for  coffee,  when  the  door  porter 
came  in  and  whispered  to  Captain  Rankin  that  a  police- 
man had  our  chauffeur  in  charge  and  wanted  to  see  one 

58 


DAYS  WHEN  THINGS  WENT  WRONG 

of  us.  The  doughty  Captain  went  out,  and  came  back  in 
a  minute  to  say  that  the  cop  wanted  him  to  go  to  the 
police  station  and  explain  why  we  did  not  have  a  number 
on  our  motor.  He  also  added  that  there  was  a  number 
of  people  around  the  car.  "What  did  you  tell  him?" 
I  asked.  "I  said  I  would  go  after  I  had  finished  my 
•  dinner,"  said  the  Captain,  which  seemed  to  me  quite 
Canadian  and  reasonable. 

He  had  not  raised  his  cup  to  his  lips  when  the 
same  porter  tapped  him  a  second  time  on  the  shoulder, 
with  "Beg  pardon,  sir,  but  the  officer  says  he  can't  wait." 
We  were  grieved,  and  looked  it. 

"It's  very  unreasonable,"  said  the  Captain,  "to  dis- 
turb us  at  dinner  like  this." 

"If  we  don't  go  now  I  guess  it  will  take  a  good  deal 
longer  to  get  the  car  away  from  the  police  station,"  I 
said.  "Besides,  supposing  Rad  has  cheeked  them  and 
they  lock  him  up,  we  won't  be  able  to  get  back  till  to- 
morrow. None  of  us  can  run  the  car  well  enough  to 
get  out  of  London  without  getting  into  a  smash  up." 
So  saying,  I  put  on  my  coat  and  sallied  forth. 

Before  I  got  to  the  front  door  I  could  tell  there  was 
something  doing,  for  the  restaurant  windows  were  filled 
with  diners  standing  on  chairs.  Through  a  vacant  space 
I  could  see  a  great  crowd  and  two  policemen's  helmets 
standing  up  above  the  middle  of  the  throng.  They  con- 
siderately opened  a  passage  up  for  me  to  the  two  police- 
men who  \yere  standing  beside  the  car  with  Rad  at  the 
wheel  looking  quite  unconcerned. 

"What  is  the  matter?"    I  demanded. 

"Your  car  has  no  number  on  it,"  said  a  policeman. 

59 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

It  was  so  similar  to  our  experience  the  week  before 
at  Bournemouth  that  I  smiled  inwardly,  and  went 
through  the  same  formula. 

"Why  should  a  government  car  have  a  number?"  I 
asked. 

"To  identfy  it,  sir,  those  are  our  orders,  sir." 

"Can't  you  identify  that  car?"  I  asked.  "It  says, 
written  in  big  letters  on  the  front,  "Canadian  Govern- 
ment, Divisional  Headquarters,"  in  case  you  can't  read! 
The  car  belongs  to  the  Canadian  Government.  We  are 
waiting  to  go  to  France ;  we  came  into  London  less  than 
an  hour  ago  on  business  to  the  War  Office.  Is  there 
anything  more  you  want?" 

"We  would  like  the  chauffeur's  name,"  said  the  cub 
policeman,  who  had  caused  the  trouble.  I  spelled  it 
out  to  him  three  times;  it  sounded  very  German,  but 
he  said  nothing." 

Then  in  turn  I  took  out  my  note  book  and  took  the 
numbers  of  the  policemen.  The  crowd  had  listened 
with  great  interest,  and  were  evidently  against  the 
policemen.  A  boy  looked  under  a  policeman's  arm  and 
grinned ;  I  winked  at  him  covertly,  and  he  went  into  a 
paroxysm  of  laughter.  Then  with  dignity  I  got  into  the 
car  and  we  drove  off  to  the  bank,  leaving  behind  the 
discomfited  policemen  and  a  crowd  of  several  hundred 
people. 

"Where  did  the  cop  get  hold  of  you,  Rad?"  I  en- 
quired. 

"Over  on  Bond  Street,"  he  said,  "he  insisted  on  my 
going  to  the  police  station  with  him.  "All  right,"  I 
said,  "jump  in,  and  he  did  so.  I  knew  where  the  police 

60 


DAYS  WHEN  THINGS  WENT  WRONG 

station  was  in  a  street  off  Oxford  Street,  but  when  we  got 
to  the  street  I  passed  it.  The  officer  called  out,  but  I 
didn't  hear  him.  At  the  next  corner  he  yelled  again, 
but  I  got  in  front  of  a  convenient  bus." 

"Why  didn't  you  turn  there,"  he  said. 

"Then  you  would  have  had  a  real  charge  against 
me,"  I  said,  "for  breaking  the  rules  of  traffic." 

Finally  he  asked  "Are  you  going  to  turn  or  not?" 
and  I  said  "I  guess  we  will  turn  here  and  turned  around, 
stopping  in  front  of  the  Marguereta  Restaurant." 

"What  are  you  stopping  for?"  he  asked. 

"The  officers  who  are  in  charge  of  the  car  are  in 
there  at  their  dinner,"  I  said,  "you  had  better  speak  to 
them.  Gee,  he  was  mad." 

All  the  rest  of  the  afternoon  I  chuckled  with  de- 
light at  the  picture  of  the  anger  of  that  cub  six  foot 
two  policeman  as  he  was  being  whirled  along  Oxford 
Street  against  his  will,  to  a  restaurant  he  did  not  want  to 
go  to,  to  meet  people  he  didn't  want  to  see. 


61 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  LOST  CANADIAN  LABORATORY. 

AT  the  War  Office  in  London,  in  the  autumn  of 
1914,  I  met  Captain  Sydney  Rowland  of  the  staff 
of  the  Lister  Institute.  He  was  a  man  who  had  made 
a  reputation  in  the  scientific  world  and  had  just  been 
authorized  by  the  British  War  Office  to  purchase  a 
huge  motor  caravan  to  be  equipped  as  a  mobile  labora- 
tory. The  caravan  had  been  built  originally  by  a  weal- 
thy automobile  manufacturer  at  a  cost  of  5,000  pounds, 
and  had  been  completely  equipped  for  living  in  while 
touring  the  country.  It  even  had  a  little  kitchen,  and 
the  whole  affair  was  lined  with  aluminium.  Tiring 
of  it,  the  builder  had  sold  it  to  a  bookmaker  who  used 
it  for  less  legitimate  purposes. 

Captain  Rowland  had  heard  of  this  machine  and 
finally  located  and  purchased  it.  All  the  expensive  in- 
terior was  torn  out  and  replaced  with  work  benches 
and  sinks,  while  shelves  and  racks  were  provided  for 
glassware  and  apparatus.  It  was  a  beautifully  equipped, 
compact  machine,  and  he  was  justly  proud  of  it. 

When  he  took  it  over  to  France  he  drove  it  up  to 
the  army  area  himself,  and  told  me  that  as  he  ap- 
proached the  front  through  villages  and  towns  at  the 
rate  of  twenty-five  miles  an  hour  he  had  an  absolutely 
unimpeded  road.  After  one  look  at  this  huge  affair, 
which  was  about  the  size  of  one  of  our  large  moving 
vans,  bearing  down  on  them  like  a  runaway  house, 

62 


THE  LOST  CANADIAN  LABORATORY 

people  fled  or  took  to  the  side  roads.  Captain  Rowland 
described  with  great  glee  the  sensation  it  had  caused, 
and  his  enjoyment  of  that  drive. 

That  was  the  first  mobile  laboratory,  the  beginning 
of  the  field  laboratories  and  the  model  upon  which 
all  others  were  constructed.  The  list  of  equipment  pre- 
pared and  used  by  Captain  Rowland  was  also  used  as 
the  basis  for  the  requirements  for  all  mobile  labora- 
tories subsequently  equipped.  A  second  bacteriological 
laboratory  and  two  hygiene  laboratories  were  sent  out 
before  permission  was  obtained  from  the  Director  of 
the  Canadian  Medical  Service,  to  send  out  a  Canadian 
laboratory.  For  some  unexplained  reason  the  Cana- 
dian Government  refused  the  necessary  funds  for  the 
chassis  so  that  we  were  compelled  to  pack  our  equip- 
ment in  twenty-four  numbered  cases,  all  of  which  could 
be  carried  on  a  three-ton  motor  lorry.  I  had  discovered 
that  the  officers  in  charge  of  these  laboratories  at  the 
front  had  already  found  them  too  small  to  work  in 
comfortably,  and  had  removed  and  placed  the  equip- 
ment in  some  convenient  house,  using  the  lorry  merely 
to  carry  their  equipment.  We  were  able  to  carry  twice 
as  complete  an  equipment,  costing  altogether  less  than 
$2,000  in  a  borrowed  lorry,  and  saved  the  cost  of  $10,- 
000  for  the  motor  chassis. 

When  the  first  Canadian  Division  went  to  France, 
No.  1  Canadian  General  Hospital  had  been  left  be- 
hind on  Salisbury  Plain,  to  take  care  of  the  sick.  It 
had  been  decided  that  I  was  to  go  to  France  in  com- 
mand of  the  Canadian  Mobile  Laboratory,  and  that  I 
should  take  with  me  two  officers  and  several  men  from 

63 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

the  staff  of  that  hospital.  The  Lozier  car  which  had 
been  given  me  by  the  Canadian  Government  was  also  to 
go  as  part  of  the  equipment.  After  working  in  the  office 
of  the  Director  of  Medical  Services  for  a  couple  of 
weeks  straightening  out  the  records  in  regard  to  ty- 
phoid inoculation,  and  cerebro-spinal  meningitis,  and  in 
purchasing  the  necessary  equipment,  I  received  word 
that  the  laboratory  was  to  go  to  the  front  immediately. 
The  Surgeon-General  accordingly  made  all  the  neces- 
sary arrangements,  and  left  for  France,  while  I  went 
down  to  Bulford  to  wait  for  the  expected  telegram 
which  was  to  speed  us  on  our  way. 

We  waited  over  three  weeks  for  the  message,  grow- 
ing more  and  more  desperate  every  day.  Finally  we 
went  up  to  London  and  found  that  somebody  had  made 
a  mistake  and  that  we  were  supposed  to  be  in  France 
long  ago.  We  were  instructed  to  leave  on  the  second 
day  following. 

The  men  were  all  greatly  excited  at  the  good  news. 
We  had  a  farewell  dinner  that  night  at  the  mess,  which 
assumed  a  somewhat  convivial  character,  and  when  I 
left  to  drive  two  visitors  into  Salisbury,  the  hospital 
dentist  was  making  a  rambling,  tearful  plea  to  a  few 
hilarious  auditors,  on  behalf  of  Ireland,  while  the  great 
majority  were  paying  no  more  attention  to  him  than  if 
he  did  not  exist. 

Next  morning  with  our  equipment,  men  and  car, 
we  set  out  for  Southampton,  amid  the  envious  fare- 
wells of  our  brother  officers,  whose  call  had  not  yet 
come.  Everything  was  loaded  on  board  the  transport 


64 


MAJOR-GENERAL   M.    S.    MERCER,    C.B. 

Former  Officer  Commanding-  Third  Canadian  Division. 
Killed  in  action,  June,  1916. 


THE  LOST  CANADIAN  LABORATORY 

at  noon,  and  late  in  the  afternoon  we  left  for  Havre, 
accompanied  by  two  torpedo  boat  destroyers. 

After  some  delay  at  the  Havre  docks  for  petrol,  we 
got  away  and  reported  our  arrival  at  one  of  the  rest 
camps  on  the  outskirts  of  the  city.  Our  elation  at  hav- 
ing finally  arrived  in  France  was  marred  only  by  the 
news  that  we  would  probably  be  detained  at  the  base 
for  two  or  three  days.  Having  been  informed  that  the 
Hotel  Tortoni  was  the  liveliest  place  in  town  to  stay, 
and  not  to  go  there  on  any  account,  we  went  and  con- 
cluded that  we  had  been  the  victims  of  a  practical  joke, 
for  we  had  not  seen  anything  so  dull  in  all  our  lives; 
it  was  as  dull  and  as  good  as  a  hotel  at  Chautauqua. 
There  was  more  "life"  to  be  seen  in  an  English  hotel  in 
a  minute  than  one  could  see  in  the  Hotel  Tortoni  in  a 
month. 

As  there  were  no  theatres  or  concerts  to  go  to  and 
nothing  else  to  do,  we  went  to  bed  in  the  chilliest  bed- 
rooms that  I  had  ever  been  in  up  to  that  time.  I  soon 
learned  that  French  hotel  bedrooms  in  winter  have  the 
same  cold,  clammy  feeling  as  the  interior  of  refrigera- 
tor cars  in  summer.  This  accounts,  perhaps,  for  the 
French  being  a  hot-blooded  people. 

Of  all  the  cities  of  the  world  that  it  has  been  my 
privilege  to  visit,  the  city  of  Havre  is  the  dirtiest,  the 
ugliest,  and  the  least  interesting.  We  could  find  no 
public  buildings  with  even  the  slightest  pretence  to 
beauty,  and  the  rest  of  the  city  was  as  dull  and  com- 
mercial as  it  is  possible  for  a  seaport  town  to  be;  one 
can  say  little  more  than  that,  in  consideration  of  any  city. 
With  the  exception  of  the  docks  and  the  casino  there  is 

65 

6 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

nothing  of  interest,  and  even  the  casino,  like  all  the 
casinos  in  France,  had  been  converted  into  a  hospital. 

After  two  days  of  killing  time,  our  orders  came 
through  to  leave  for  the  front,  two  of  us  to  go  by  motor 
and  the  rest  by  train.  Our  experience  with  the  British 
officer  at  the  base  had  certainly  been  pleasant  and 
proved  to  be  a  happy  augury  of  our  future  relationships 
with  them.  The  British  officer  in  France  is  quite  a 
different  man  from  the  same  officer  in  England,  and 
does  not  impress  you  with  the  fact  that  the  war  is  being 
carried  on  by  his  individual  efforts. 

At  the  base  we  learned  for  the  first  time  that  we  had 
been  a  great  source  of  anxiety  to  some  of  the  officials  of 
the  British  army  three  weeks  before,  when  the  war  office 
had  announced  our  departure  from  England.  When 
we  had  failed  to  report  our  arrival  at  Havre  the  author- 
ities had  assumed  that  we,  being  Canadians  and  more 
or  less  independent,  had  gone  off  on  a  little  trip  of  our 
own  into  the  interior  of  France.  In  their  efforts  to 
locate  us  they  had  telegraphed  far  and  wide;  conse- 
quently when  we  did  arrive  everybody  knew  of  us  as 
"The  Lost  Canadian  Laboratory"  and  seemed  to  be 
quite  pleased  that  we  had  been  found.  When  anything 
goes  astray  in  the  army  it  causes  a  tremendous  amount  of 
consternation  and  trouble  until  it  is  located;  the  easiest 
thing  to  lose  is  a  soldier  in  hospital  but  as  he  can  talk 
this  matter  usually  rights  itself  sooner  or  later. 

The  morning  on  which  we  set  out  on  our  first  day's 
"march"  to  the  front  was  misty  and  raw,  and  motoring 
was  very  cold.  Even  this  early  in  the  season — mid 
March,  1915 — the  fields  were  being  ploughed,  but  the 

66 


THE  LOST  CANADIAN  LABORATORY 

ploughing  and  harrowing  was  being  done  by  women, 
old  men  and  boys.  Hardly  one  able-bodied  man  was  to 
be  seen,  the  contrast  with  England  in  this  respect  at 
that  time  being  very  marked.  A  crowd  of  schoolboys 
pleading  for  souvenirs  were  made  to  earn  them  and 
amuse  us  by  running  races  while  we  had  a  tire  replaced. 

The  banks  on  the  roadside  were  yellow  with  the 
first  primroses,  and  patches  of  golden  daffodils  could  be 
seen  in  the  woods,  though  spring  seemed  to  be  far 
enough  away  that  chilly  day.  It  was  characteristic  of 
one's  experience  in  France  that,  as  we  sat  down  to  din- 
ner that  evening  in  an  Abbeville  hotel  I  had  beside  me 
an  officer  in  the  British  army  who  had  been  in  Canada 
for  a  number  of  years  and  who  had,  during  that  time, 
been  a  frequent  caller  at  my  home  in  Toronto.  The 
spontaneous  manner  in  which  the  two  of  us  rose  and 
rushed  at  each  other  with  outstretched  arms  would 
have  done  credit  to  native  born  Frenchmen. 

As  we  approached  the  front,  the  long  straight 
French  roads  gave  way  to  winding  narrow  ways,  fre- 
quently paved  with  cobble  stones  called  pave.  The 
country  became  flat,  and  the  roadside  ditches  were  rilled 
to  the  brim  with  water.  That  we  were  within  the 
sphere,  of  military  operations  became  more  and  more 
evident.  Motor  cars  carrying  officers  passed  frequent- 
ly; motor  transports  carrying  food  and  fodder  rumbled 
along  the  roads  or  were  parked  in  the  outskirts  of 
villages  or  in  village  squares;  motor  ambulance  con- 
voys were  drawn  up  in  front  of  hospitals,  and,  in  general, 
we  felt  that  we  were  nearing  the  real  seat  of  operations, 
the  front  line. 

67 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

It  was  a  drive  of  a  hundred  miles  to  the  little  town 
which  was  to  be  our  headquarters  for  nine  long  months, 
and  I  remember  the  thrill  that  I  had  when  we  first 
saw  the  effects  of  shell  fire — a  hole  about  two  feet  in 
diameter  in  the  bricks  above  the  door  of  the  Hotel  de 
Ville.  As  we  later  discovered,  the  village  authorities 
had  decided  not  to  repair  that  hole  but  to  leave  it  as  a 
memorial  of  the  day  when  the  Germans  had  been  driven 
from  the  town  and  had  fired  some  shells  back  into  it, 
killing  a  dozen  of  the  inhabitants. 

After  reporting  to  the  corps  headquarters  in  town, 
we  were  instructed  to  attach  ourselves  to  No.  7  Clearing 
Hospital,  where  we  were  made  most  welcome  by  the 
commanding  officer  and  his  staff.  Colonel  Wear  found 
billets  for  us  in  the  town,  and  a  splendid  room  for  a 
laboratory  in  the  Hotel  De  Ville.  This  room,  22  x  36 
feet,  had  been  the  banquet  hall  and  band  room,  and  was 
well  lighted  by  windows  and  gas.  When  equipped  as 
a  laboratory  it  presented  a  most  imposing  appearance, 
and  from  it  we  had  a  fine  view  of  the  village  square, 
commonly  called  the  Grande  Place.  As  everything 
going  through  the  town  had  to  pass  by  our  windows  in 
order  to  cross  the  bridges  over  the  canals,  we  could  view 
a  continuous  panorama  of  never-failing  interest  when- 
ever we  had  the  leisure  to  look  down  upon  it. 

Captain  Rahkin  found  his  billet  at  the  top  of  a 
house  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  square  from  the  la- 
boratory; Captain  Ellis  found  his  in  a  house  in  the 
corner  of  the  square,  and  mine  proved  to  be  a  little  room 
over  a  grocery  shop  on  another  corner  of  the  square. 
My  room  was  reached  by  passing  through  the  shop,  up 

68 


THE  LOST  CANADIAN  LABORATORY 

a  very  steep  staircase,  and  through  a  storeroom  filled 
with  boxes  of  soap,  biscuits,  bundles  of  brooms,  and 
other  staples.  The  room  itself  was  clean  but  without 
heat,  and  I  usually  fell  asleep  after  a  couple  of  hours  of 
shivering  in  the  depths  of  a  damp,  cold,  feather  mat- 
tress. Eleven  crucifixes  and  two  glass  cases  of  artificial 
flowers,  together  with  portraits  of  the  pope  and  local 
cure,  constituted  the  decorations  of  the  room,  and  was 
typical  of  the  region,  for  this  part  of  France  was  thor- 
oughly Catholic. 

Our  equipment  did  not  arrive  for  three  days,  so 
that  we  had  some  opportunity  to  look  around  and  get 
our  bearings  in  the  area  in  which  we  were  to  work. 
The  Director  of  Medical  Services  of  the  army  had 
called  just  after  we  arrived,  and  had  given  us  instruc- 
tions. Like  all  the  British  officers  we  met  in  the 
field,  he  treated  us  with  the  greatest  kindness  and  con- 
sideration. Faultless  in  dress,  precise  in  manner,  with 
monocle  and  carefully  trimmed  hair  and  moustache,  he 
gave  one  the  impression  of  just  having  stepped  from  his 
dressing  room  after  a  bath.  And  yet  his  knowledge  of 
the  military  game  as  it  applied  to  the  medical  service 
was  just  as  accurate,  precise  and  complete  as  his  external 
appearance  indicated.  He  was  a  tremendous  worker 
and  efficient  to  the  last  degree,  as  his  record  since  has 
demonstrated. 


69 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  DAYS  BEFORE  YPRES. 

THE  following  day  we  drove  over  to  Estaires,  five 
miles  away,  to  see  the  first  Canadian  division  com- 
ing back  into  rest  after  a  month  in  the  trenches.  As 
we  passed  the  infantry  on  the  road  it  was  pleasant  to 
see  broad  smiles  spreading  over  the  faces  of  the  men 
who  recognized  us  as  having  been  with  them  at  Val- 
cartier  and  Salisbury  Plain.  Fit  and  rugged  they 
looked  as  they  swung  along  with  the  confident  air  which 
newly  arrived  troops  often  seem  to  possess.  Their  offi- 
cers were  pleased  with  them,  and  were  satisfied  that  the 
division  needed  only  an  opportunity  to  make  good.  The 
division  had  been  on  the  left  at  the  battle  or  Neuve 
Chappelle,  and  had  had  no  real  fighting  as  yet;  but  it 
had  received  an  excellent  month's  training  in  trench 
warfare,  and  was  now  well  broken  into  the  new  game. 

The  division  remained  for  a  week  in  that  neighbor- 
hood resting,  and  we  had  several  opportunities  of  visit- 
ing our  friends.  On  Sunday  three  of  us  called  on  my 
old  friend  General  Mercer  of  the  first  brigade,  and  had 
tea  with  him  and  Majors  Van  Straubenzie  and  Hayter 
of  his  staff.  General  Mercer  expressed  himself  as  being 
delighted  with  the  men  and  as  having  the  highest  con- 
fidence in  them. 

We  also  had  dinner  with  Colonel  (now  General) 
Rennie  and  our  old  friends  of  the  third  (Toronto) 
battalion  who  were  located  in  a  little  peasant  cottage 

70 


THE  DAYS  BEFORE  YPRES 

in  Neuf  Berquin.  In  a  room  adjoining  Captain  Hay- 
wood,  the  medical  officer  of  the  battalion,  lay  on  a  pile 
of  straw  with  symptoms  of  appendicitis.  He  was  not 
too  sick  to  give  some  extremely  graphic  descriptions 
of  his  first  experiences  in  the  trenches,  while  we  all 
sat  around  and  smoked.  The  room  was  lighted  by  a 
single  stable  lantern  which  also  smoked  and  we  sat  on 
boxes;  I  have  seldom  passed  a  more  pleasant  evening  in 
my  life  than  that  spent  in  the  little  peasant  cottage  with 
my  soldier  friends,  Captains  George  Ryerson,  Muntz, 
Wickens,  Major  Allan  (all  since  dead),  Major  Kirk- 
patrick  (now  a  prisoner  in  Germany),  Captains  Hut- 
chison, Bart  Rogers,  George,  Lyne-Evans,  Robertson, 
(of  the  first  battalion)  and  others.  Some  of  these  chaps 
I  knew  well  in  Canada  and  we  talked  of  home  and  the 
old  times,  all  the  while  realizing  that  some  of  us  would 
never  again  get  back.  The  feeling  was  now  fast  sett- 
ling down  upon  us  that  we  were  actually  at  war,  and  that 
soon  some  of  the  men  we  had  grown  to  admire  and  love 
would  have  to  pay  the  price. 

During  the  evening  two  stocky  little  French  girls 
came  in  and  sang  "Eet's  a  longa,  longa  wye  to  Teeper- 
aree"  in  English  for  the  "seek  Capitan." 

The  Canadian  division  was  in  rest  during  those 
early  April  days  when  the  cold,  long-drawn  out  spring 
became  almost  imperceptibly  warmer  and  the  buds  were 
beginning  to  swell  on  the  trees  and  bushes. 

On  the  first  day  of  April,  Bismarck's  birthplace,  we 
were  expecting  something  unusual  along  the  front  and 
were  not  disappointed.  While  driving  up  to  the  Clear- 
ing Station  to  breakfast,  we  noticed  a  couple  of  Hun 

71 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

aeroplanes  being  shelled  by  our  "Archibalds."  When 
we  returned  to  the  town  half  an  hour  later  we  found 
that  the  place  had  been  bombed. 

One  bomb  had  gone  right  through  Rankin's  billet, 
exploded  in  the  workshop  on  the  ground  floor  and 
blown  out  all  the  windows;  another  had  fallen  in  the 
square  about  twenty  yards  in  front  of  my  billet  and  had 
failed  to  explode,  while  six  others  had  fallen  in  different 
parts  of  the  town,  half  of  which  were  "duds."  Nobody 
was  hurt  and  no  other  damage  was  done. 

Bittleson,  Captain  Rankin's  batman,  who  hap- 
pened to  be  looking  out  of  the  top  window  at  the  time, 
swore  that  the  bomb  which  went  through  the  roof  be- 
side him  had  grazed  his  forehead. 

The  bomb  which  had  failed  to  explode  in  the 
square  was  taken  possession  of  by  our  staff  sergeant  and 
placed  on  my  laboratory  table  as  a  souvenir.  A  staff 
officer  from  heaquarters,  fortunately,  came  along  be- 
fore we  returned  and  bore  it  off  to  his  chief  after  pro- 
mising to  return  it.  Needless  to  relate  it  never  came 
back,  much  to  my  relief  and  to  the  disgust  of  the  staff 
sergeant  who  on  several  occasions  referred  to  the  ini- 
quity of  this  high  handed  action. 

On  Easter  Sunday  we  were  invited  to  some  sports 
by  the  divisional  cavalry.  As  we  drove  up  to  the  or- 
chard specified  in  the  invitation  a  crowd  of  typical  big 
western  cowboys  with  their  broad  brimmed  Stetson 
hats  came  streaming  up  the  road  from  a  nearby  farm 
where  they  had  been  foregathering. 

A  clear  stretch  of  turf  was  selected,  a  ring  formed 
by  the  crowd  and  the  first  event  was  announced — a  cock 

72 


THE  DAYS  BEFORE  YPRES 

fight  between  Von  Kluck  and  J  off  re.  Cock  fighting  is 
the  native  sport  of  the  countryside  in  that  region  where 
nearly  every  farmer  keeps  a  couple  of  game  cocks  and 
fights  them  on  Sunday  afternoons,  incidentally  betting 
on  the  results. 

After  everybody  had  been  warned  not  to  move,  the 
two  birds  were  placed  gently  on  the  ground  on  opposite 
sides  of  the  circle.  Carelessly,  and  without  apparently 
having  noticed  one  another,  the  roosters  walked  about 
picking  at  the  grass  but  gradually  getting  nearer  to  one 
another.  When  they  got  within  a  yard  of  each  other 
they  became  more  wary,  though  still  feigning  careless- 
ness, until  one  seeing  an  opportunity,  sprang  into  the 
air  and  struck  at  the  head  of  the  other  with  the  curved 
wire  nails  attached  to  his  legs  in  place  of  spurs.  The 
other  dodged  and  counter  attacked  and  the  action  be- 
came general. 

Using  beak,  wings  and  spurs  they  jumped,  flew  and 
struck  at  one  another  as  opportunity  afforded,  until 
Joffre  got  a  strangle  hold  on  Von  Kluck  and  buried  his 
spurs  again  and  again  into  the  prostrate  body  until  he 
finally  struck  a  vital  spot  and  the  combat  was  over. 
Then,  stretching  himself,  the  victor  flapped  his  wings 
once  or  twice  as  if  to  say  "bring  on  the  next"  and  went 
on  picking  at  the  grass  as  before. 

It  was  the  first  time  that  I  had  ever  seen  a  cock 
fight  and  I  hope  it  will  be  the  last.  The  concentration 
on  the  faces  of  those  men  as  they  watched  the  cruel 
"sport"  and  the  play  of  expression  passing  over  them 
was  intensely  interesting  to  me;  you  could  almost  tell 
what  some  of  them  were  saying  within  their  minds  and 

73 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

it  was  pleasant  to  know  that  to  the  great  majority  of 
them  the  game  was  as  repulsive  as  it  was  to  us.  It  was 
obviously  unsuited  to  the  taste  of  our  new  country  and 
men  who  might  themselves  be  dead  in  the  course  of 
a  week  or  two. 

One  other  cock  fight  was  put  on  and  then  we  turned 
to  a  game  much  more  suited  to  our  men — a  wrestling 
bout  on  horseback.  Four  men  on  each  side  mounted 
on  horses,  without  saddles  or  bridles,  were  drawn  up 
at  opposite  sides  of  the  field.  The  men  were  dressed  in 
trousers  and  shirts  only;  the  horses  were  guided  solely 
by  a  halter. 

At  a  given  signal  the  two  parties  approached  one 
another  at  a  trot,  each  man  selecting  as  his  antagonist 
the  one  opposite  him.  In  the  first  crash  a  couple  were 
dismounted  almost  instantly,  and  the  battle  resolved 
itself  into  several  separate  encounters. 

The  horses  seemed  to  enter  into  the  spirit  of  the 
thing  and  backed  up,  wheeled,  side-stepped  and  did 
their  best  to  help  their  owners  win. 

Meanwhile  the  riders,  grasping  one  another  by 
body,  arm  or  leg,  did  their  utmost  to  tear  one  another  off 
their  horses.  When  it  became  three  against  two,  the  two 
would  tackle  one  opponent  and  it  was  the  task  of  the 
single  man  to  try  to  keep  the  two  others  on  the  same  side 
so  that  they  could  not  grasp  him  on  both  sides  at  once. 
It  was  exciting  enough  to  see  one  man  being  pulled  by 
one  arm  from  one  side,  while  another  man  was  trying 
to  throw  his  opposite  leg  over  the  horse.  Even  when 
they  succeeded  in  accomplishing  this  he  clung  to  the 
horse's  neck  and  it  was  only  with  the  greatest  difficulty 

74 


THE  DAYS  BEFORE  YPRES 

that  his  feet  were  made  to  touch  the  ground  and  he 
was  thereby  put  out  of  the  game. 

One  or  two  obstreperous  animals  who  objected  to 
the  game  ran  away  with  their  riders  and  tried  to  brush 
them  off  on  the  apple  trees.  The  contestants  were  all  as 
hard  as  nails  and  could  stand  any  amount  of  rough 
usage  such  as  they  received  in  this  gladiator-like  contest. 

After  the  games  were  over  we  adjourned  to  the 
Colonel's  billet  for  afternoon  tea  and  music.  The 
Colonel  was  exceedingly  fond  of  his  gramophone,  and, 
being  troubled  somewhat  with  insomnia,  would  some- 
times rise  in  the  middle  of  the  night  and  put  on  a  few 
of  his  favorite  records,  much  to  the  annoyance  of  the 
rest  of  the  staff  billeted  in  the  same  house.  Knowing 
this,  one  did  not  think  it  so  strange  as  it  might  other- 
wise have  seemed,  that,  during  the  course  of  a  move  of 
the  division,  the  gramophone  fell  from  a  wagon  and 
was  run  over  by  six  other  wagons.  What  did  seem 
mysterious  was  the  fact  that  none  of  the  drivers  had  seen 
the  gramophone  in  the  road  until  it  had  been  crushed  as 
flat  as  a  board. 

When  I  visited  the  divisional  cavalry  a  few  months 
later  the  Colonel  was  still  carrying  forty  dollars'  worth 
of  records  with  him  but  had  not  yet  ordered  a  new 
gramophone. 

Gradually  the  Canadian  division  moved  on.  One 
night  we  found  them  in  the  neighborhood  of  Winni- 
zeele  and  Oudezeele,  hamlets  near  the  Belgian  border. 
In  searching  for  a  battalion  headquarters  we  asked  one 
soldier  sitting  in  front  of  a  barn  what  village  this  was 
and  received  the  not  uncommon  answer  "I  don't  know." 

75 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

It  was  astonishing  how  frequently  that  answer  was 
given.  Apparently  some  men  were  quite  content  to  be 
moved  about  like  pawns  in  a  game  of  chess  without 
question  as  long  as  they  were  fed  and  clothed;  they 
seemingly  had  adopted  the  attitude  of  the  Mohamme- 
dan, "It  is  the  will  of  Allah." 

We  had  dinner  with  Colonel  Rennie  and  his  staff 
that  night,  and  a  pleasant  dinner  it  was.  I  remember 
yet  how  envious  we  were  of  Major  Kirkpatrick  who 
took  us  up  to  his  room  and  there  opened  up  a  box  just 
received  from  his  wife  in  England — a  box  containing 
cigarettes,  chocolates,  taffy,  gum,  magazines  and  other 
things  so  greatly  appreciated  by  the  soldier  in  the  field, 
and  so  liberally  shared  by  them  with  less  fortunate  ones. 
Some  men  were  very  lucky  in  having  wives  who  seemed 
to  spend  a  great  deal  of  thought — and  money — in  things 
that  would  be  appreciated  by  their  husbands  in  France. 
The  Major  was  taken  a  prisoner  a  fortnight  later  and  I 
sincerely  hope  that  he  was  as  lucky  in  having  his  boxes 
come  through  to  him  in  Germany. 

After  dinner  we  accompanied  some  of  the  younger 
officers  to  a  mysterious  place  called  uThe  Club" — an 
Estaminet  in  the  village,  operated  by  a  French  woman 
and  recently  "out  of  bounds"  for  several  days  because 
of  failure  to  observe  the  early  closing  law. 

The  scene  in  that  little  French  uPub"  that  evening 
might  have  been  from  a  comedy  written  of  the  period 
of  one  hundred  years  ago.  In  the  common  room  were 
a  number  of  officers  playing  cards  at  little  tables.  The 
air  was  blue  with  smoke  and  numerous  bottles  of  wine 
stood  on  the  tables. 

76 


THE  DAYS  BEFORE  YPRES 

A  young  French  woman  sat  over  in  a  corner  chat- 
ting confidentially  in  French  to  a  Canadian  officer  who 
thought  he  was  replying  in  the  same  language.  Neither 
understood  a  word  that  the  other  said,  though  both  were 
obviously  delighted  at  their  success  in  making  them- 
selves understood,  so  what  was  the  difference? 

The  scene,  which  grew  more  and  more  interesting 
as  the  evening  advanced,  was  brought  to  a  sudden  con- 
clusion by  the  entrance  of  a  Lieutenant,  who  announced 
that  nine  o'clock  had  struck;  in  a  moment  the  room  was 
emptied,  lights  were  out  and  we  were  all  wending  our 
ways  homeward. 

The  first  impressions  of  a  soldier  at  the  front  are 
invariably  the  most  vivid.  A  week  after  we  had  settled 
down  to  routine  work  we  had  occasion  to  visit  one  of  the 
advanced  dressing  stations  in  our  area.  Leaving  our 
little  town  by  motor  we  crossed  the  canal  by  the  lift- 
bridge  after  waiting  to  allow  three  Dutch  barges  to 
pass  through.  These  lift  bridges  are  hinged  about  one 
third  of  the  way  from  one  end  and  are  raised  by  means 
of  stout  cables  hitched  to  the  other  end  and  passing 
back  to  towers.  They  are  so  balanced  that  little  effort  is 
required  to  raise  or  lower  them. 

Turning  to  the  left  we  struck  into  a  pave  road 
which  led  for  some  distance  along  the  canal  bank.  Pave 
is  not  a  bad  road  when  kept  in  good  repair  as  this  one 
was,  and  when  you  get  used  to  the  vibration  of  the  car 
bouncing  from  one  cobble  stone  to  another;  when,  how- 
ever, it  is  not  kept  in  repair,  depressions  form  which 
rapidly  increase  as  cart  and  motor  wheels  fall  into  them 
and  hammer  them  deeper  and  deeper. 

77 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

A  little  grey  tug  boat,  painted  the  regulation  battle- 
ship grey,  slipped  quietly  along  through  the  canal  tow- 
ing several  barges  loaded  with  road  metal  and  lumber. 

A  buzz  like  a  huge  bee  approaching  us  across  the 
fields  attracted  our  attention,  and  we  looked  up  to  see 
an  aeroplane,  like  a  gigantic  dragon  fly  bearing  directly 
down  upon  us.  A  hundred  yards  away  it  left  the 
ground  and  passed  over  our  heads  climbing  steadily  in 
a  great  spiral  into  the  sky.  Another  aeroplane,  and 
another  followed  till  there  were  five  circling  above  us, 
getting  smaller  and  smaller  as  they  soared  into  the 
heaven,  looking  like  herons  in  flight  among  the  clouds. 
They  then  made  off  towards  different  parts  of  the  Ger- 
man lines  to  their  daily  task  of  reconnaissance. 

The  women,  old  men  and  children,  were  busy  on 
the  farms  ploughing,  harrowing  and  putting  in  the  seed. 
Though  the  men  were  away  there  was  no  dearth  of 
labour  on  the  farms  and  everything  was  going  on  as  it 
should.  The  silly-looking,  heavily-built,  three- wheeled 
carts,  empty  or  loaded  with  manure,  bumped  along  be- 
hind the  broad-backed  Flemish  horses,  guided  solely 
by  a  frail  looking  piece  of  string.  The  driver,  seated 
crosswise  on  a  projecting  tongue  of  wood,  guides  the 
horse  by  mysterious  signals  conveyed  through  jerks  of 
the  piece  of  string,  and  steers  the  cart  by  leaning  over 
and  shoving  the  small  front  steering  wheel  to  the  right 
or  left  by  hand.  The  Flemish  horses  are  very  placid 
and  are  never  startled  by  motors,  gun  fire,  or  anything 
else. 

Away  to  the  right  we  could  see  the  spires  of  a 
church  in  a  little  village  nestling  among  the  trees.  Our 

78 


THE  DAYS  BEFORE  YPRES 

road  took  its  tortuous  course  through  fields  as  flat  as  a 
board.  Tall  trees  flanked  the  roadside  which  was 
separated  from  the  fields  by  ditches  three  or  four  feet 
wide,  serving  to  drain  both  road  and  fields  and  ultimate- 
ly emptying  into  some  canal  or  creek.  In  this  particu- 
lar part  of  Flanders  hedges  were  not  in  universal  use 
for  fences.  In  one  place  we  execrated  the  Germans  for 
having  cut  down  dozens  of  the  roadside  trees,  only  to 
discover  later  that  the  British  themselves  had  cut  them 
down  in  order  to  clear  the  course  for  aeroplanes  ascend- 
ing and  descending  to  the  aerodrome  close  by. 

We  overhauled  a  trotting  dog  team  dragging  a 
heavy  little  milk  cart  and  driven  by  a  boy  who  ran 
alongside.  At  the  sound  of  the  motor  horn  the  dogs 
turned  sharply  to  the  right  without  waiting  for  orders 
from  the  boy,  ran  over  his  foot,  and  nearly  upset  the 
cart.  One  judged  that  they  had  had  some  previous  and 
possibly  not  pleasant  experiences  with  motor  cars,  and 
were  taking  no  chances.  What  the  boy  said  to  them 
was  shameful,  judged  even  by  our  limited  knowledge 
of  French  and  the  short  time  we  were  within  hearing 
of  him. 

Coming  into  the  little  town  of  La  Gorgue  we  could 
see  to  our  right  a  chateau  in  quite  pretentious  gardens — 
a  chateau  in  which  the  German  Crown  Prince  is  said 
to  have  been  staying  when  a  British  shell  crashed 
through  the  roof  and  made  him  move  on  the  double 
quick.  This  town  like  our  own  was  intersected  by  a 
canal  which  was  used  both  as  a  sewer  and  source  of 
water  supply  for  washing  purposes.  The  streets  in  this 
town  are  dirty  and  ill  kept;  the  stores  uninteresting,  and 

79 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

the  houses  squalid;  it  ran  into  the  next  town  of  Estaires 
by  the  continuation  of  the  main  street. 

Canadian  soldiers  were  everywhere  in  evidence, 
wandering  along  the  roads  in  the  manner  so  character- 
istic of  them.  Canadians  have  never  been  over  fond  of 
saluting  officers,  and  have  never  quite  accepted  the  state- 
ment that  it  is  the  uniform  of  the  representative  of  the 
King  they  are  called  upon  to  salute — not  the  man. 

The  first  story  I  heard  was  about  a  chauffeur  I 
had  had  in  Valcartier.  He  had  been  standing  at  the 
doorway  of  a  store  trying  to  talk  to  a  French  girl  when 
a  couple  of  British  officers  passed.  The  man  did  not 
see  them  till  they  were  just  going  by  and  drew  him- 
self up  to  a  sort  of  a  half  attention.  The  officers  passed, 
halted,  and  came  back. 

"Why  didn't  you  salute?"  queried  one  officer. 

"I  didn't  see  you,"  replied  the  man. 

"Oh,  yes,  you  did;  you  came  to  a  kind  of  sloppy 
attention  as  we  passed,"  said  the  officer. 

"Yes,"  said  the  man.  "I  did  as  you  were  almost 
past;  but  anyway  we  don't  salute  much  in  our  army." 

"What?"  said  the  officer,  "are  you  a  Canadian?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  the  chauffeur  proudly,  and  the  Bri- 
tish officers  went  on  laughing  heartily. 

The  officers  we  came  to  see  were  out  and  we  seized 
the  opportunity  to  run  over  for  a  look  at  the  shell-shat- 
tered town  of  Larentie — the  first  battered  town  we  had 
seen.  To  us,  at  that  time,  it  was  an  awe-inspiring  spec- 
tacle, though  nowadays  it  would  be  considered  a  com- 
paratively undamaged  town. 

The  houses  on  the  outskirts  were  quite  intact,  but 

80 


THE  DAYS  BEFORE  YPRES 

as  we  approached  the  centre  of  the  town,  shattered 
windows,  pitted  walls,  and  scarred  woodwork  indicated 
that  the  town  had  been  heavily  shelled.  Near  the 
church  the  buildings  were  wrecked ;  roofs  were  lifted 
off,  windows  blown  out,  and  walls  were  frequently  half 
down  or  had  great  holes  in  them,  while  the  block  right 
around  the  church  was  a  heap  of  rubbish. 

The  church  itself  had  been  hit  scores  of  times,  and 
the  walls  though  still  standing  were  perforated  like  a 
sieve.  The  stones  in  the  foundation  of  the  church  were 
fractured  by  the  force  of  the  exploding  shells  into  tiny 
fragments,  still  pressed  together  with  the  weight  of  the 
material  above  them.  So  crushed  were  they  that  if  re- 
moved, a  tap  with  a  hammer  would  make  them  fall 
into  thousands  of  splinters. 

The  houses  round  about  the  church  had  been 
completely  razed  to  the  ground.  Those  adjacent 
were  partly  unroofed,  with  perhaps  a  wall  blown 
out  showing  an  upstairs  with  a  stairway  swinging 
from  the  floor,  beams  from  the  roof  fallen  over  the 
iron  bedstead,  sheets  of  wall  paper  dangling  from 
the  walls,  and  every  other  imaginable  combination  of 
wreckage.  And  yet  a  few  doors  away  down  the  street 
where  the  houses  had  not  been  very  badly  damaged 
they  were  occupied  by  civilians  who  tried  to  eke  out  an 
existence  by  selling  candy  and  foodstuffs. 

It  is  a  never-failing  source  of  wonder  to  see  people 
in  such  places  which  were  being  shelled  daily,  hanging 
on  desperately  to  the  old  homes,  not  knowing  when  a 
shell  might  come  through  the  roof  and  kill  them  all. 
That  was  brought  home  to  me  later  on  when,  as  I 

81 
7 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

passed  through  a  village  one  afternoon,  I  saw  three  wo- 
men being  dug  out  of  the  cellar  of  a  house  in  which  a 
shell  had  exploded  a  minute  before.  On  another  occa- 
sion in  a  village  close  by  a  mother  with  her  babe  at  her 
breast,  three  children  of  various  ages,  the  husband  and 
the  grandmother,  were  all  killed  in  one  room  by  a  Ger- 
man shell,  the  walls,  ceiling  and  floor  being  splattered 
with  blood  and  brains.  And  so  it  goes  on  day  after  day 
among  the  civilians  in  the  shelled  area  in  France.  Most 
of  them  escape  but  many  of  them  pay  the  price. 


82 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  SECOND  BATTLE  OF  YPRES. 

IT  was  a  glorious  spring  day  on  Saturday,  April 
17th,  1915,  when  I  motored  to  Ypres.  The  first  Cana- 
dian Contingent  had  gone  into  the  salient  several  days 
before,  and  had  now  settled  down  to  business  in  the 
trenches.  Our  laboratory  had  been  given  permission 
to  keep  a  check  on  the  purity  of  the  water  supply  of 
the  Canadians;  hence  this  trip  from  our  laboratory, 
located  twenty  miles  away  in  another  part  of  the  line. 
The  cobble  stone  or  pave  road  between  Poperinge 
and  Ypres  was  like  a  moving  picture  to  our,  as  yet,  un- 
satiated  eyes.  Here  a  small  party  of  soldiers  marched 
along  quickly;  there  three  blue-coated  French  officers, 
with  smartly-trimmed  moustaches,  cantered  by  on  horse- 
back; a  pair  of  goggled-despatch  riders  on  throbbing 
motor  cycles  dashed  along  at  terrific  speed,  leaving  long 
trails  of  dust  behind  them;  a  string  of  transport  waggons 
with  hay  and  other  fodder,  crept  along  leisurely;  a  motor 
ambulance  convoy  sped  past  with  back  curtains  up, 
showing  the  boots  of  the  recumbent  wounded,  or  the 
peering  faces  of  the  sitting  cases  with  heads  and  arms 
bound  in  white  linen;  some  old  women  arrayed  in  their 
best  dresses,  and  with  baskets  on  arms,  were  coming 
from  market  gossiping  volubly;  boys  and  girls  garbed 
in  the  universal  one-piece  black  overdress  of  the  coun- 
try, played  games  on  the  roadside ;  an  armoured-motor 
machine  gun  halted  beside  the  children  to  make  some 

83 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

adjustment;  great  three-ton  lorries  lumbered  along; 
officers  in  touring  cars,  sometimes  with  red  and  gold 
staff  hats,  flew  by,  taking  salutes  with  easy  nonchalance, 
while  we,  with  ears  and  eyes  wide  open,  bowled  along 
towards  the  famous  city  of  Ypres. 

It  was  war, — apparently  an  easy  going,  leisurely 
sort  of  game.  Everybody  seemed  to  be  going  about  as 
if  they  had  been  at  this  sort  of  thing  all  their  lives;  as 
if,  in  fact,  they  couldn't  do  anything  else. 

Every  vehicle  and  every  person  that  went  into  the 
salient  had  to  travel  on  that  broad  highway,  flanked 
with  tall  trees,  and  paved  with  cobble  stone.  Wire  en- 
tanglements and  trenches  traversed  the  roads  at  inter- 
vals, and  shell  holes  filled  with  water  in  the  adjacent 
fields  showed  the  road  to  be  within  range  of  the  German 
guns. 

As  we  approached  Ypres  we  could  see  that,  like 
all  the  towns  of  northern  France  and  Belgium,  it  was 
sharply  separated  from  the  adjacent  fields;  there  were 
no  extensive  suburbs  such  as  are  found  around  the 
modern  British  or  American  city  causing  them  to  merge 
gradually  into  the  surrounding  country.  When  we 
passed  the  first  houses  we  were  practically  in  a  solid 
compact  town. 

According  to  the  custom  in  Flanders,  the  houses 
and  stores  of  Ypres  were  built  close  together,  right  on 
the  sidewalk,  without  gardens  or  spaces  between  them. 
Many  were  white,  and  the  effect  of  the  white  stucco  and 
red  brick  gave  the  city  a  clean  and  sanitary  appearance. 
It  was  a  town  with  a  population  of  less  than  20,000,  a 
mere  reminiscence  of  that  ancient  city  of  Ypres  of  the 
.84 


THE  SECOND  BATTLE  OF  YPRES 

12th  century  which  had  had  a  population  of  200,000 
inhabitants  and  which  had  been  the  most  powerful  city 
in  Flanders  and  one  of  the  richest  in  the  world, — a  city 
larger  and  more  powerful  than  London.  Ypres  was 
famous  for  its  cloth  in  the  13th  century,  when  it  had 
4,000  looms  in  use.  Through  wars  and  religious  per- 
secutions the  population  of  Ypres  had  dwindled  at  one 
time  to  5,000  people.  Her  fortifications  had  long  ago 
been  dismantled,  and  with  the  exception  of  a  few  mag- 
nificent buildings,  her  ancient  glory  had  departed. 

As  our  car  slowly  passed  through  the  town  evi- 
dences of  shell  fire  were  abundantly  apparent.  Here 
was  a  house  with  its  roof  blown  off;  another  with  the 
windows  blown  out,  the  woodwork  splintered  and  the 
walls  pitted  with  shrapnel;  while  another  had  been 
completely  gutted.  We  turned  to  the  right  and  came 
upon  the  famous  church  of  St.  Martin's.  Great  piles 
of  stone  and  debris  lay  in  front  of  it,  the  roof  was  gone 
and  the  windows  had  disappeared,  but  the  tower  was 
still  intact;  the  houses  in  the  neighborhood  had  been 
blown  to  atoms. 

Our  hearts  beat  faster  when  we  came  upon  the 
building  adjacent  to  it,  facing  the  Grande  Place, — the 
glorious  cloth  hall  of  Ypres,  beautiful  even  in  its  ruin. 
Few  such  wonderfully  majestic  specimens  of  architec- 
ture as  this  ancient  monument  of  the  weavers  of  Ypres 
have  come  down  to  us  through  the  ages.  On  the  great 
square  in  the  heart  of  the  city  it  stood,  nearly  500  feet 
long  and  half  as  wide.  The  walls  were  yet  fairly  intact, 
also  the  main  square  tower  in  the  centre  and  the  grace- 
ful pointed  turrets  at  each  corner.  Most  of  the  roof  was 

85 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

gone,  but  enough  remained  to  show  that  it  had  been 
very  high-pitched,  and  that  the  proportions  of  the 
building  must  have  been  perfect.  The  interior  was  a 
mass  of  rubble;  here  and  there  direct  hits  had  blown 
holes  in  the  wonderfully  carved  walls,  and  some  of  the 
statues  of  the  famous  men  of  the  ancient  city  had  been 
tumbled  from  their  niches  between  the  third  tier  of 
windows.  None  of  the  woodwork  of  the  famous  paint- 
ed panels  of  the  interior  remained;  it  had  all  been 
destroyed  by  fire  from  the  incendiary  shells  of  the 
apostles  of  culture. 

I  stood  and  gazed,  quite  carried  away  by  the  beauty 
of  even  the  fragments  of  the  magnificent  bit  of  Gothic 
architecture,  and  with  indignation  at  its  destruction. 
The  warm  spring  sun  of  midday  played  about  its  col- 
umns, making  heavy  shadows  under  the  windows  and 
ruined  arches;  soldiers  crossed  the  square  and  stood 
about  as  if  they  were  a  thousand  miles  from  the  Ger- 
man lines.  Several  officers  could  be  seen  wandering 
about  studying  the  ruins;  two  of  them  I  knew  and  they 
came  over  to  shake  hands.  I  asked  where  I  could  get 
some  dinner,  and  was  directed  to  the  only  decent 
restaurant  left  in  the  town,  located  just  beyond  the 
Cloth  Hall  on  the  square. 

As  we  stopped  at  the  door  of  the  estaminet  Lt.- 
Col.  (Canon)  Frederick  Scott,  one  of  our  Canadian 
poets,  came  by  and  stopped  for  a  chat.  I  had  not  seen 
him  since  the  memorable  days  of  Salisbury  Plain,  and 
he  was  full  of  his  experiences  as  a  regimental  chaplain. 
He  drew  from  his  pocket  the  manuscript  of  a  newly- 


86 


THE  SECOND  BATTLE  OF  YPRES 

written  poem  and,  oblivious  of  his  surroundings,  stood 
by  the  car  and  recited  it  to  me. 

The  little  restaurant  was  well  filled  with  officers 
even  at  this  late  lunching  hour  of  two  o'clock.  It  had 
been  a  millinery  store,  but  latterly  there  had  been  little 
sale  for  millinery  and  there  had  been  a  great  demand 
for  food;  the  three  pretty  Flemish  sisters  who  owned 
the  shop  had  therefore  accommodated  themselves  to  the 
situation  and  now  served  most  excellent  food  daintily 
on  clean  tables,  though  not  with  great  despatch.  At 
any  rate,  my  omelette,  cheese,  toast  and  coffee  tasted 
very  good  to  me  that  day,  while  I  chatted  to  two  en- 
gineers who  had  countermined  and  blown  up  a  German 
mine  at  St.  Eloi  a  few  days  before. 

After  lunch  we  hunted  out  No.  3  Field  Ambu- 
lance, whose  personnel  came  largely  from  Toronto. 
Colonel  McPherson  of  Toronto,  the  officer  com- 
manding, seemed  glad  to  see  me,  as  he  always  did,  and 
showed  me  over  the  ambulance  and  billets  where  the 
officers  were  quartered.  I  took  water  samples  for  ex- 
amination of  their  drinking  water  supply,  which  was 
not  above  suspicion.  The  garden  at  the  rear  of  their 
temporary  home  was  vibrant  with  sunshine;  the  pears, 
trained  against  the  walls  in  the  rectangular  manner  so 
much  in  vogue  in  France,  and  the  peach  trees,  were  al- 
ready bursting  into  clusters  of  pink  and  white  blossoms. 
I  picked  some  beautiful  blue  pansies  to  press  in  my 
pocket  book  and  send  home  as  souvenirs  of  my  first  visit 
to  Ypres. 

Upon  leaving  the  ambulance  we  passed  over  the 
river  by  the  bridge,  where  soldiers  were  filling  water 

87 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

carts  by  means  of  hand  pumps;  passed  the  ancient 
ramparts  on  the  river's  edge  and  through  the  hamlet 
of  St.  Jean  to  Wieltze,  where  the  advanced  dressing 
station  of  the  ambulance  was  located.  Here  I  saw 
my  friend  Captain  Brown  and  collected  water  samples 
for  examination.  Returning  to  Ypres  we  went  out  to 
Brielen  to  see  the  A.D.M.S.  of  the  Canadian  Division 
and  there  found  some  letters  from  home  waiting  me. 

While  in  the  office  a  sudden  commotion  among  a 
group  of  soldiers  outside  and  the  raising  of  glasses  sky- 
ward drew  us  forth  to  watch  an  aerial  battle  in  progress. 
With  the  aid  of  borrowed  glasses  I  could  see  six  ma- 
chines in  the  sky  manoeuvring  for  position.  Two  in 
particular  seemed  to  be  closely  engaged  when  the  Ger- 
man suddenly  turned  tail  and  fled.  A  white  puff  of 
smoke  beside  him  indicated  that  the  Archibalds  had 
been  watching  the  combat  closely.  A  second,  third 
and  fourth  followed  in  rapid  succession  until  suddenly 
at  the  fifteenth  burst  the  Taube  began  to  drop  and 
flutter  down,  like  a  leaf  falling  from  a  forest  tree  on  a 
quiet  October  day.  Five  minutes  later,  far  out  in  the 
salient,  we  saw  a  second  driven  down  in  a  straight  nose 
dive,  making  the  third  for  that  day  in  the  vicinity  of 
Ypres.  One  might  watch  for  months,  as  I  afterwards 
did,  without  seeing  another  aeroplane  brought  down. 

When  we  were  on  our  way  back  from  Ypres  on  our 
return,  a  horse  ridden  by  an  officer  suddenly  curvetted 
across  the  road  in  front  of  us.  Rad  pulled  up  the  car 
to  a  full  stop,  and  the  officer  pulled  in  his  horse  at  the 
same  time.  The  horse  reared,  his  front  feet  caught  in 
the  fender,  he  pawed  the  air  wildly  for  a  moment  and, 


THE  SECOND  BATTLE  OF  YPRES 

losing  his  balance,  he  fell  over  backward  rolling  on  the 
officer.  Soldiers  quickly  caught  the  horse  and  pulled 
him  to  one  side,  and  greatly  to  our  relief  the  officer  was 
able  to  get  up  and  walk.  It  was  characteristic  of  the 
British  officer  that  he  had  no  feeling  towards  us  on 
account  of  his  accident;  on  the  contrary,  bruised  and 
aching  as  he  must  have  been  though  he  would  not  ad- 
mit it,  he  came  over  to  the  car  and  apologized  for  hav- 
ing caused  us  inconvenience.  It  is  the  British  way  of 
doing  things. 

As  we  traversed  Ypres  on  our  homeward  route,  a 
little  girl  held  up  bouquets  of  spring  flowers  and  we 
stopped  while  I  bought  a  large  bunch  of  daffodils  for 
the  equivalent  of  two  pennies.  Crossing  the  railway 
tracks  by  the  shell-shattered  station  we  struck  into  the 
Dickiebush — Bailleul  Road,  and  drove  slowly  home- 
ward over  the  rough  pave. 

Near  Dickiebush  the  fields  were  pitted  with 
numerous  shell  holes,  and  the  rails  of  a  light  railway 
at  one  place  pointed  heavenward  where  a  shell  had 
exploded  between  them. 

A  pup,  evidently  unused  to  motor  traffic  on  this  bad 
bit  of  road,  took  a  chance  and  tried  to  dash  across  in 
front  of  the  car  but  miscalculated  his  distance  and  was 
bowled  into  the  ditch. 

It  was  curious  to  see  one  field  ploughed  with 
shells  and  full  of  holes,  and  the  next  field  with  pro- 
minently placed  new  signs  bearing  the  inscription, 
"It  is  forbidden  to  walk  over  the  growing  grain." 
As  we  passed  through  the  rolling  land  of  Belgium 
under  the  brow  of  "The  Scherpenberg,"  with  Mount 

89 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

Kemmel  over  to  the  right  honeycombed  with  dugouts, 
it  was  difficult  to  believe  that,  locked  in  a  death  grapple, 
not  three  miles  away,  were  thousands  of  soldiers  living 
underground  like  moles,  and  that  at  any  moment  the 
air  might  be  filled  with  shells  carrying  death  and  de- 
struction. 

At  the  end  of  a  peaceful  day  we  reached  our  little 
French  home  town,  glad  to  have  seen  our  friends  in 
their  new  area  by  the  famous  old  city  of  the  Flemish 
weavers. 

Springtime  had  come  in  truth;  the  hedges  of 
Northern  France  were  beginning  to  bloom  white,  and 
the  wild  flowers  were  quite  thick  in  the  forest  of  Nieppe 
near  Merville.  It  was  the  time  in  Canada  when  the 
spring  feeling  suddenly  got  into  the  blood,  when  one 
threw  work  to  the  winds  and  took  to  the  woods  in  search 
of  the  first  violets. 

On  the  twenty-second  day  of  April  the  very 
essence  of  spring  was  in  the  air;  I  felt  as  if  I  had  to 
go  out  into  the  open  and  watch  the  birds  and  bees,  loll 
in  the  sun,  and  do  nothing.  We  struggled  along  until 
noon  with  our  routine  work,  and  having  completed  it 
Captain  Rankin  and  I  left  for  Ypres.  A  soldier  had 
been  transferred  to  us,  and  as  we  did  not  need  him  we 
decided  to  register  a  formal  protest  and  see  if  he  could 
not  be  kept  with  his  present  unit.  Our  road  lay  through 
Dickiebush  and  we  made  good  .time,  again  reaching 
Ypres  about  two  o'clock. 

It  was  quite  evident  to  me  as  I  retraversed  the 
streets  of  Ypres  that  it  had  been  heavily  shelled  since 
I  had  been  there  a  few  days  before.  Many  more  houses 

90 


THE  SECOND  BATTLE  OF  YPRES 

had  been  smashed,  and  unmended  shell  holes  were  seen 
in  the  roads.  As  we  crossed  the  Grande  Place  there  was 
scarcely  a  soldier  visible.  The  Cloth  Hall,  which  the 
Captain  had  not  seen  before,  showed  further  evidences 
of  shell  fire.  After  viewing  the  ruins  we  drove  to  the 
little  restaurant  kept  by  the  pretty  milliners,  only  to 
find  that  the  place  had  completely  disappeared — liter- 
ally blown  to  atoms.  Later  on  we  found  that  a  fifteen- 
inch  shell  had  landed  in  the  building  next  door  and 
both  houses  had  simultaneously  vanished.  A  well 
known  officer,  Captain  Trumbull  Warren  of  the  48th 
Highlanders,  Toronto,  coming  out  of  a  store  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  square  had  been  killed  by  a  flying 
fragment  of  the  same  shell. 

We  wondered  whether  the  milliners  had  escaped, 
and  somewhat  depressed,  drove  along  in  search  of  an- 
other retaurant.  A  sign  "Chocolat"  on  a  door  in  a 
side  street  made  us  inquire,  and,  curiously  enough,  we 
found  this  also  to  be  a  little  restaurant  kept  by  two 
other  milliners.  They  informed  us  that  the  first  three 
milliners  had  escaped  when  the  bombardment  began, 
and  before  their  restaurant  had  been  blown  up.  One's 
interest  in  a  place  or  in  a  battle  is  often  in  direct  propor- 
tion to  the  number  of  one's  friends  or  acquaintances 
there. 

After  lunch  we  drove  to  Brielen,  but  found  that 
the  A.D.M.S.,  whom  we  were  in  search  of,  and  his  dep- 
uty were  both  out.  We  were  shown  maps  of  the  salient, 
and  had  the  area  pointed  out  to  us  where  the  French 
joined  up  with  the  second  and  third  brigades  of  Cana- 
dians, and  where  the  British  troops  joined  up  with  the 

91 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

Canadians.  When  about  to  leave,  a  friend,  Major  Mac- 
laren  of  the  10th  Infantry  battalion,  riding  a  mettle- 
some horse,  rode  up  and  I  got  out  of  the  car  and  held 
the  bridle  while  we  had  a  long  talk  about  the  experi- 
ences of  the  Canadians  since  we  had  left  Salisbury 
Plain. 

We  then  drove  back  to  the  Ypres  water  pool, 
which  was  the  largest  supply  of  drinking  water  in  the 
area.  There  were  at  least  thirty-five  water  carts  in  line 
waiting  their  turn  to  fill  up  at  this  presumably  good 
supply.  We  were  told  that  it  was  safe  because  twice  a 
week  a  couple  of  pounds  of  chloride  of  lime  were 
chucked  into  the  middle  of  the  pool.  We  took  samples 
of  the  water  and  passed  on  to  Wieltze,  intending  to 
walk  into  the  salient  to  see  what  "No  man's  Land"  was 
like.  Men  had  told  us  that,  unlike  the  rest  of  the  front 
near  the  trenches,  there  were  no  growing  crops,  and  no 
birds  sang  in  that  desolate,  dreary,  shell-shattered  area, 
and  we  wanted  to  see  it  for  ourselves. 

We  were  surprised  and  delighted  to  find  Captain 
Scrimger,  whom  we  had  left  convalescing  at  Bulford, 
England,  in  charge  of  the  Advanced  Dressing  Station. 
He  had  just  arrived  that  afternoon,  and  was  in  hopes 
of  getting  his  old  battalion  again,  explaining  that  on 
account  of  his  illness  in  England  he  had  been  tempor- 
arily replaced  as  regimental  medical  officer  by  Captain 
Boyd.  We  talked  with  him  in  the  little  estaminet  in 
which  the  dressing  station  was  located,  while  the  old 
woman  who  kept  the  place  and  two  peasants  chatted 
quietly  together  in  a  corner  and  drank  beer.  I  wonder- 
ed at  the  time  whether  they  were  spies.  Captain 

92 


THE  SECOND  BATTLE  OF  YPRES 

Scrimger  walked  with  us  up  to  the  edge  of  the  village 
and  then  returned  to  his  charge. 

At  the  outskirts  of  the  village  we  noticed  a  peasant 
planting  seeds  in  the  little  garden  in  front  of  his  house. 
The  earth  had  all  been  dug  and  raked  smooth  by  a 
boy  and  a  couple  of  children.  To  our  "Bon  jour"  he 
replied,  and  added  "II  fait  bon  temps  n'est  ce  pas?" 
looking  up  at  the  sun  with  evident  satisfaction. 

No  motor  transport  was  allowed  to  pass  Wieltze 
because  the  road  beyond  was  exceedingly  rough,  and  it 
would  only  have  been  inviting  disaster  from  break- 
downs and  German  shells  to  have  proceeded  farther. 

As  we  tramped  along  towards  St.  Julien  our  atten- 
tion was  attracted  to  a  greenish  yellow  smoke  ascend- 
ing from  the  part  of  the  line  occupied  by  the  French. 
We  wondered  what  the  smoke  was  coming  from.  Half 
a  mile  up  the  road  we » seated  ourselves  on  a  disused 
trench  and  lit  cigarettes,  while  I  began  to  read  a  home 
letter  which  I  had  found  at  Brielen. 

An  aeroplane  flying  low  overhead  dropped  some 
fire-balls.  Immediately  a  violent  artillery  cannonade 
began.  Looking  towards  the  French  line  we  saw  this 
yellowish  green  cloud  rising  on  a  front  of  at  least  three 
miles  and  drifting  at  a  height  of  perhaps  a  hundred 
feet  towards  us. 

"That  must  be  the  poison  gas  that  we  have  heard 
vague  rumours  about,"  I  remarked  to  the  Captain.  The 
gas  rose  in  great  clouds  as  if  it  had  been  poured  from 
nozzles,  expanding  as  it  ascended ;  here  and  there  brown 
clouds  seemed  to  be  mixed  with  the  general  yellowish 


93 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

green  ones.  "It  looks  like  chlorine,"  I  said,  "and  I  bet 
it  is."  The  Captain  agreed  that  it  probably  was. 

The  cannonade  increased  in  intensity.  About  five 
minutes  after  it  began  a  hoarse  whistle,  increasing  to  a 
roar  like  that  of  a  railroad  train,  passed  overhead.  "For 
Ypres,"  we  ejaculated,  and  looking  back  we  saw  a  cloud 
as  big  as  a  church  rise  up  from  that  ill-fated  city,  fol- 
lowed by  the  sound  of  the  explosion  of  a  fifteen-inch 
shell.  Thereafter  these  great  shells  succeeded  one  an- 
other at  regular  intervals,  each  one  followed  by  the 
great  black  cloud  in  Ypres. 

The  bombardment  grew  in  intensity.  Over  in  a 
field  not  two  hundred  yards  away  numerous  coal  boxes 
exploded,  throwing  up  columns  of  mud  and  water  like 
so  many  geysers.  General  Alderson  and  General  Bur- 
stall  of  the  Canadian  Division  came  hurrying  up  the 
road  and  paused  for  a  moment  to  shake  hands,  and  to  re- 
mark that  the  Germans  appeared  to  be  making  a  heavy 
attack  upon  the  French.  We  wondered  whether  they 
would  get  back  to  their  headquarters  or  not 

Shells  of  various  calibres,  whistling  and  screaming, 
flew  over  our  heads  from  German  batteries  as  well  as 
from  our  own  batteries  replying  to  them.  The  air 
seemed  to  be  full  of  shells  flying  in  all  directions.  The 
gas  cloud  gradually  grew  less  dense,  but  the  bombard- 
ment redoubled  in  violence  as  battery  after  battery 
joined  in  the  angry  chorus. 

Aross  the  fields  we  could  see  guns  drawn  by  gallop- 
ing horses  taking  up  new  positions.  One  such  gun  had 
taken  a  position  not  three  hundred  yards  away  from  us 
when  a  German  shell  lit  apparently  not  twenty  feet 

94 


THE  SECOND  BATTLE  OF  YPRES 

away  from  it;  that  gun  was  moved  with  despatch  into 
another  position. 

Occasionally  we  imagined  that  we  could  hear 
heavy  rifle  and  machine  gun  fire,  but  the  din  was  too 
great  to  distinguish  much  detail.  The  common  expres- 
sion used  on  the  front,  "Hell  let  loose,"  was  the  only 
term  at  all  descriptive  of  the  scene. 

Streaking  across  the  fields  towards  us  came  a  dog. 
On  closer  view  he  appeared  to  be  a  nondescript  sort  of 
dog  of  no  particular  family  or  breeding.  But  he  was 
bent  on  one  purpose,  and  that  seemed  to  be  to  put  as  great 
a  distance  as  possible  between  himself  and  the  Germans. 
He  had  been  gassed,  and  had  evidently  been  the  first 
to  get  out  of  the  trenches.  Loping  along  at  a  gait  that  he 
could,  if  necessary,  maintain  for  hours,  he  fled  by  with 
tail  between  his  legs,  tongue  hanging  out  and  ears  well 
back.  And  as  he  passed  he  gave  us  a  look  which  plainly 
said,  "Silly  fools  to  stand  there  when  you  could  get  out; 
just  wait  there  and  you  will  get  yours."  And  on  he 
went,  doubtless  galloping  into  the  German  lines  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  salient. 

By  this  time  our  eyes  had  begun  to  run  water,  and 
became  bloodshot.  The  fumes  of  the  gas  which  had 
reached  us  irritated  our  throats  and  lungs,  and  made  us 
cough.  We  decided  that  this  gas  was  chiefly  chorine, 
with  perhaps  an  admixture  of  bromine,  but  that  there 
was  probably  something  else  present  responsible  for 
the  irritation  of  our  eyes. 

A  lull  in  the  cannonading  made  it  possible  to  dis- 
tinguish the  heavy  rattle  of  rifle  and  machine  gun  fire, 
and  it  seemed  to  me  to  be  decidedly  closer. 

95 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

The  Canadian  artillery  evidently  received  a  mes- 
sage to  support,  and  down  to  our  right  the  crash  of  our 
field  guns,  and  their  rhythmical  red  flashes  squirting 
from  the  hedgerows,  focussed  our  attention  and  added 
to  the  din. 

Up  the  road  from  St.  Julien  came  a  small  party  of 
Zouaves  with  their  baggy  trousers  and  red  Fez  caps. 
We  stepped  out  to  speak  to  them,  and  found  that  they 
belonged  to  the  French  Red  Cross.  They  had  been 
driven  out  of  their  dressing  station  by  the  poisonous  gas, 
and  complained  bitterly  of  the  effect  of  it  on  their  lungs. 

Shortly  afterwards  the  first  wounded  Canadian 
appeared — a  Highlander, — sitting  on  a  little  cart  drawn 
by  a  donkey  which  was  led  by  a  peasant.  His  face 
and  head  were  swathed  in  white  bandages,  and  he 
looked  as  proud  as  a  peacock. 

Soon  after,  another  Canadian  Highlander  came 
trudging  up  the  road,  with  rifle  on  shoulder  and  face 
black  with  powder.  He  stated  that  his  platoon  had  been 
gassed,  and  that  the  Germans  had  got  in  behind  them 
about  a  mile  away,  in  such  a  manner  that  they  had  been 
forced  to  fight  them  on  front  and  rear.  Finally  the 
order  had  been  passed,  "Every  man  for  himself,"  and 
he  had  managed  to  get  out ;  he  was  now  on  his  way  back 
to  report  to  headquarters. 

Then  came  a  sight  that  we  could  scarcely  credit. 
Across  the  fields  coming  towards  us,  we  saw  men  run- 
ning, dropping  flat  on  their  faces,  getting  up  and  run- 
ning again,  dodging  into  disused  trenches,  and  keeping 
every  possible  bit  of  shelter  between  themselves  and  the 
enemy  while  they  ran.  As  they  came  closer  we  could 

96 


THE  SECOND  BATTLE  OF  YPRES 

see  that  they  were  French  Moroccan  troops,  and  evi- 
dently badly  scared.  Near  us  some  of  them  lay  down 
in  a  trench  and  lit  cigarettes  for  a  moment  or  two,  only 
to  start  up  in  terror  and  run  on  again.  Some  of  them 
even  threw  away  their  equipment  after  they  had  passed, 
and  they  all  looked  at  us  with  the  same  expression  that 
the  dog  had,  evidently  considering  us  to  be  madmen  to 
stay  where  we  were.  It  was  quite  apparent  that  the 
Moroccan  troops  had  given  way  under  the  gas  attack, 
and  that  a  break,  doubtless  a  large  one,  had  been  made 
in  the  French  front  line. 

Then  our  hearts  swelled  with  a  pride  that  comes 
but  seldom  in  a  man's  life — the  pride  of  race.  Up  the 
road  from  Ypres  came  a  platoon  of  soldiers  marching 
rapidly;  they  were  Canadians,  and  we  knew  that  our 
reserve  brigade  was  even  now  on  the  way  to  make  the 
attempt  to  block  the  German  road  to  Calais. 

Bullets  began  to  come  near.  Neither  of  us  said 
a  word  for  a  while  as  we  saw  spurt  after  spurt  of  dust 
kicked  up  a  few  yards  in  front  of  us. 

"I  think  we  had  better  move,  Colonel,"  said  Cap- 
tain Rankin  at  last.  As  he  spoke,  a  bullet  split  a  brick 
in  the  road  about  three  feet  away  from  me,  and  slid 
across  the  road  leaving  a  trail  of  dust. 

"I  think  we  had,"  I  said  as  I  walked  over,  picked 
up  the  spent  bullet  and  dropped  it  in  my  pocket.  An- 
other bullet  pinged  over  head  and  another  spat  up  the 
road  dust  in  front  of  us.  "Those  are  aimed  bullets,"  I 
said.  "The  Germans  cannot  be  far  away;  it's  time  to 
move."  It  was  then  about  6.30  and  we  walked  back  to 


97 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

Wieltze,  near  which  we  met  our  anxious  chauffeur  com- 
ing out  to  meet  me. 

Canadian  soldiers  with  boxes  of  cartridges  on  their 
shoulders  ran  up  the  road  towards  the  trenches;  others 
carrying  movable  barb-wire  entanglements  followed 
them.  A  company  of  Canadians  took  to  the  fields  on 
leaving  Wieltze,  and  began  advancing  in  short  rushes 
in  skirmishing  order  towards  the  German  front,  while 
their  officer  walked  on  ahead  swinging  his  bamboo  cane 
in  the  most  approved  fashion.  Another  company  was 
just  leaving  the  village,  loading  their  rifles  as  they 
hurried  along.  I  overheard  one  chap  say,  as  he  thrust  a 
cartridge  clip  into  place,  "Good  Old  Ross." 

As  we  approached  Wieltze  we  could  see  ammuni- 
tion wagons  galloping  up  the  other  road  which  forks 
at  Wieltze  and  runs  to  Langemarck.  Turning  into  the 
fields  they  would  wheel  sharply,  deposit  their  loads,  and 
gallop  wildly  off  again  for  more  ammunition,  while  the 
crashes  and  flashes  of  the  guns  showed  that  they  were 
being  served  with  redoubled  vigor. 

At  the  edge  of  the  village  the  peasant,  whom  we  had 
seen  preparing  his  little  garden  and  sowing  seeds  earlier 
in  the  afternoon,  came  down  to  the  gate  and  asked 
rather  apologetically  if  we  thought  that  the  Germans 
would  be  there  to-night;  "in  any  case  did  monsieur  not 
think  it  would  be  wise  for  the  women  and  children  to 
leave?" 

Behind  him,  standing  about  the  door  steps,  were 
the  members  of  his  family,  each  with  a  bundle  suited  to 
their  respective  ages.  The  smallest,  a  girl  about  six 
years  of  age,  had  a  tiny  bundle  in  a  handkerchief ;  the 

98 


THE  SECOND  BATTLE  OF  YPRES 

next,  a  boy  about  eight,  had  a  larger  one.  All  were 
dressed  in  their  best  Sunday  clothes,  and  carried  um- 
brellas— a  wise  precaution  in  the  climate  of  Flanders. 
We  agreed  with  him  that  it  was  wise  to  move  away,  be- 
cause it  would  be  possible  to  return,  if  the  Germans 
were  driven  back,  whereas  if  they  stayed  they  might  be 
killed. 

As  we  talked  to  the  father,  the  eldest,  a  boy  of 
eighteen,  came  down  to  the  gate  with  his  grandmother, 
a  little  old  lady  perhaps  eighty  years  of  age,  and 
weighing  about  as  many  pounds.  The  boy  stooped 
down  to  pick  her  up  in  his  arms,  but  she  shook  her  head 
in  indignant  protest.  Accordingly  he  crouched  down, 
she  put  her  arms  around  his  neck,  he  took  her  feet  under 
his  arms,  and  set  off  down  the  road  towards  Ypres  with 
the  rest  of  the  family  trailing  behind  him.  About  ten 
o'clock  that  night  my  friend,  Captain  Eddie  Robert- 
son, standing  with  his  regiment  on  the  roadside  ten 
miles  nearer  Poperinge,  waiting  for  orders  to  advance, 
noticed  a  youth  with  a  little  old  lady  on  his  back, 
trudging  by  in  the  stream  of  fleeing  refugees. 

Wieltze  was  a  picture;  the  kind  of  moving  picture 
that  the  movie  man  would  pay  thousands  for,  but  never 
can  obtain.  The  old  adage  held  that  you  always  see 
the  best  shots  when  you  have  no  gun.  Small  detach- 
ments of  Canadian  troops  moved  rapidly  through  the 
streets.  Around  the  Canadian  Advanced  Dressing  Sta- 
tion was  a  crowd  of  wounded  Turcos  and  Canadians 
waiting  their  turn  to  have  their  wounds  dressed.  All 
the  civilians  were  loading  their  donkey  or  dog  carts 


99 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

with  household  goods  and  setting  out  towards  Ypres, 
sometimes  driving  their  cows  before  them. 

As  we  climbed  into  the  car,  which  had  been  placed 
for  shelter  behind  the  strongest  lookingwall  in  the  town, 
and  slowly  started  for  Ypres,  a  section  of  the  10th  Cana- 
dian Battalion  came  along  with  our  friend,  Major  Mac- 
laren,  whom  I  had  talked  to  at  Brielen  earlier  in  the 
afternoon,  at  its  head.  I  waved  my  hand  to  him  and 
called  "good  luck."  He  waved  his  hand  in  answer  with 
a  cheery  smile.  A  couple  of  hours  later  he  was  wounded 
and  was  sent  back  in  the  little  battalion  Ford  car,  with 
another  officer,  to  the  ambulance  in  Vlamertinge. 
While  passing  through  Ypres  a  shell  blew  both  officers' 
heads  off. 

At  the  fork  of  the  roads,  Lt.-Col.  Mitchell  of 
Toronto,  of  the  headquarters  staff,  who  was  directing 
traffic,  came  over  and  asked  us  if  we  had  seen  certain 
Canadian  battalions  pass  by.  We  told  him  we  had  and 
we  shook  hands  as  we  wished  each  other  "good  luck," 
not  knowing  whether  we  should  ever  meet  again.  We 
picked  up  a  load  of  wounded  Turcos  and  took  them 
into  the  ambulance  at  Ypres.  Fresh  shell  holes  pitted 
the  road  and  dead  horses  lay  at  the  side  of  it.  One 
corner  in  particular  near  Ypres  had  been  shelled  very 
heavily,  and  broken  stone,  pave  and  bricks  lay  scattered 
about  everywhere. 

All  the  while  the  roar  of  guns  and  the  whistle  of 
flying  shells  had  increased.  We  reached  the  ambu- 
lance in  Ypres  between  dusk  and  dark;  it  was  light 
enough  to  see  that  the  front  of  the  building,  which  had 
been  intact  earlier  in  the  afternoon,  had  been  already 

100 


THE  SECOND  BATTLE'QF  YPRES 

scarred  with  pieces  of  flying  shells.  The  shutters  which 
had  been  closed  were  torn  and  splintered,  and  the  brick 
work  was  pitted  with  shrapnel.  We  forced  our  Turcos 
to  descend  and  enter  the  ambulance,  though  from  their 
protests  I  judged  they  would  have  much  preferred  a 
continuous  passage  to  the  country  beyond  Ypres. 

As  we  entered  the  door  Major  Hardy  (now 
Colonel  Hardy,  D.S.O.)  was  found  operating  on  one 
of  his  own  men;  the  man  had  been  blown  of!  a  water 
cart  down  the  street  and  his  leg  and  side  filled  with 
shrapnel.  It  was  rather  weird  to  see  this  surgeon  coolly 
operating  as  if  he  was  in  a  hospital  in  Canada,  and  to 
hear  the  shells  screaming  overhead  and  exploding  not 
far  away,  any  one  of  which  might  at  any  moment  blow 
building,  operator  and  patient  to  pieces.  That  is  one 
of  the  beauties  of  the  army  system ;  each  one  in  the  army 
"carries  on"  and  does  his  own  particular  bit  under  all 
circumstances. 

A  terrific  bang  in  the  street  outside,  followed  by 
the  rattling  and  crash  of  glass  and  falling  of  bricks, 
caused  Rad  to  remark  "there  goes  the  good  old  Lozier 
car."  At  the  same  time  the  piercing  shrieks  of  a  woman 
rang  out  down  the  street,  shrieks  as  from  a  woman  who 
might  have  had  her  child  killed.  We  went  to  the  door 
and  looked  out;  the  Lozier  was  still  intact,  though  later 
on  we  found  the  rounded  corner  of  the  metal  body  of 
the  car  bent  as  though  a  piece  of  pave  or  metal  of  several 
pounds  weight  had  struck  it,  and  the  floor  of  the  car 
was  covered  with  bits  of  broken  glass  and  brick. 

Major  Hardy  asked  us  to  take  his  patient  on  to 
Vlamertinge  as  it  was  doubtful  when  a  motor  ambu- 

101 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

lance  would  return,  and  we  were  glad  to  do  so.  After 
being  given  the  usual  dose  of  anti-tetanic  serum,  he  was 
wrapped  in  blankets  and  made  comfortable  in  the  back 
seat.  We  shook  hands  with  the  Major  and  started  off  for 
Vlamertinge. 

It  was  too  risky  to  go  through  the  centre  of  the 
town  on  account  of  falling  walls,  chimneys,  and 
the  swiftly  descending  fragments  of  houses  blown  sky- 
ward. So  we  skirted  the  town  and  tried  to  get  down 
'i  side  road  to  Vlamertinge.  It  was  choked  with  refu- 
gees and  transport,  and  the  military  traffic  policeman 
strongly  advised  us  to  take  the  main  road  from  Ypres. 
As  there  was  no  alternative  we  drove  back  to  the  water 
tower  in  the  city.  This  road  was  clear,  for  nobody  was 
going  into  Ypres  at  that  time  by  that  particular  inter- 
secting road. 

We  made  all  possible  speed  to  get  through  the  town 
and  into  the  main  Ypres-Vlamertinge  road.  There 
wagons  began  to  pass  us  going  the  opposite  way,  the 
horses  whipped  into  a  gallop  as  they  made  haste  to  get 
through  the  town  to  the  bridge-head  on  the  far  side. 
Motor  transport  lorries  also  drove  at  full  speed  to  get 
by  this  danger  point  as  quickly  as  possible.  As  we 
cleared  the  town  again,  the  traffic  became  heavier,  and 
we  gradually  worked  into  and  formed  part  of  a  great 
human  stream  with  various  eddies  and  back  currents. 

It  was  now  dark,  and  but  for  the  feeble  light  of  a 
young  moon,  which  sometimes  broke  through  the  clouds 
and  faintly  illuminated  the  road,  nothing  could  be  seen. 
All  headlights  were  out,  and  not  even  the  light  of  a  hand 
lantern  or  flashlight  was  permitted.  Yet  one's  eyes  be- 

102 


THE  SECOND  BATTLE  OF  YPRES 

came  accustomed  to  the  dark,  and  when  the  pale  moon- 
light came  through  we  could  dimly  see  over  on  our 
right  a  line  of  French  Turcos  moving  like  ghosts  along 
towards  Vlamertinge.  Next  them  were  the  fleeing  refu- 
gees with  their  bundles,  wagons  and  push  carts,  and 
their  cows  being  driven  before  them.  If  there  was  a 
cart,  the  old  man  or  old  lady  would  invariably  be  seated 
on  the  top  of  the  load,  sometimes  holding  the  baby. 

In  the  centre  of  the  road  we  groped  our  way  along 
with  infinite  care.  A  shadow  would  sometimes  bear 
down  on  the  car,  and  suddenly  swerve  to  one  side  as  a 
horseman  trotted  by.  A  motor  lorry  would  approach 
within  a  few  feet  of  us  before  the  driver  would 
see,  and  stop  before  we  crashed  into  each  other.  On 
the  left  were  troops  standing  by  all  along  the  roadside, 
and  we  felt  very  proud  as  we  realized  that  they  were 
Canadians,  and  that  they  were  the  only  troops  at  hand 
to  plug  the  gap  made  by  the  German  poison  gases. 

At  one  time  the  road  became  jammed,  and  we 
had  visions  of  staying  all  night  in  the  midst  of  a  road 
block.  Gradually,  with  the  aid  of  mounted  gendarmes 
and  our  military  police,  the  mass,  composed  of  cows, 
wagons,  horses,  dogcarts,  refugee  men,  women  and  chil- 
dren, with  hand  wagons  and  baby  carriages;  motor  lor- 
ries, horse  transport,  lumber  wagons,  motor  cycles,  tour- 
ing cars,  and  mounted  horsemen,  was  dissolved,  and 
slowly  began  again  to  flow  in  both  directions.  Look- 
ing backward  we  could  see  the  red  glow  of  fires  burning 
in  different  parts  of  Ypresand  the  bright  flashes  of  shells 
as  they  burst  over  that  much  German-hated  city.  All 
around  the  salient  star  shells  flared  into  the  sky  and  re- 

103 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

mained  suspended  for  a  few  minutes  as  they  threw  a 
white  glare  over  the  surrounding  country,  silhouetting 
the  trees  against  the  skylike  ghosts  before  they  died 
away  and  fell  to  earth. 

At  last  we  reached  Vlamertinge  and  turned  into 
the  yard  occupied  by  No.  3  Field  Ambulance.  Our 
car  was  known,  and  several  officers  came  forward  to  see 
if  we  had  any  authentic  news.  Our  patient,  whom  they 
recognized  as  belonging  at  one  time  to  themselves,  was 
carried  into  shelter,  and  we  also  entered  the  building. 
Lying  on  the  floors  were  scores  of  soldiers  with  faces 
blue  or  ghastly  green  in  colour  choking,  vomiting  and 
gasping  for  air,  in  their  struggles  with  death,  while  a 
faint  odour  of  chlorine  hung  about  the  place. 

These  were  some  of  our  own  Canadians  who  had 
been  gassed,  and  I  felt,  as  I  stood  and  watched  them, 
that  the  nation  who  had  planned  in  cold  blood,  the  use 
of  such  a  foul  method  of  warfare,  should  not  be  allowed 
to  exist  as  a  nation  but  should  be  taken  and  choked  until 
it,  too,  cried  for  mercy. 

We  could  not  help  smiling  as  we  shook  hands  with 
Captain  Boyd,  who  had  been  shot  in  the  calf  of  the  leg 
and  was  now  getting  the  wound  dressed,  particularly 
when  he  heard  that  Captain  Scrimger  had  already 
been  ordered  to  replace  him.  Captain  Scrimger  won 
the  V.C.  the  following  day). 

We  offered  our  car  to  the  Colonel  of  the  ambu- 
lance for  the  night,  but  he  had  to  stay  at  his  work,  and 
the  car  was  not  very  suitable  for  evacuating  wounded. 
As  we  could  not  be  of  use,  we  reluctantly  passed  on  out 


104 


THE  SECOND  BATTLE  OF  YPRES 

of  the  fighting  zone  toward  home,  and  the  refugees 
being  not  so  numerous  we  could  travel  faster. 

Near  the  entrance  to  Poperinge  a  British  Major 
came  over  to  our  car  'as  we  were  showing  our  passes  to 
a  military  policeman.  "Are  you  Canadian  officers?" 
he  said. 

"We  are,"  I  answered. 

"Then  would  you  mind  telling  your  Canadian 
transport  drivers  to  stop  going  up  and  down  this  road ; 
they  insist  on  doing  it,  and  I  can't  stop  them." 

"There  is  a  big  battle  up  in  the  salient,"  I  said. 
"Shells  and  many  other  things  are  needed;  our  men 
have  been  sent  for  them  and  know  what  they  want;  I 
wouldn't  interfere  with  them  if  I  were  you." 

He  looked  at  us  as  though  we  were  hopeless  idiots, 
and  we  drove  on.  The  motor  ambulance  convoy,  which 
*we  had  been  asked  to  have  sent  forward,  had  already 
gone,  and  our  last  errand  was  done.  Putting  on  our 
headlights  and  opening  the  throttle,  we  tore  homeward, 
reaching  Merville  at  eleven  o'clock. 

When  we  arrived  at  the  Mess,  Captain  Ellis,  who 
had  been  anxiously  waiting,  said  that  we  looked  grey, 
drawn  and  ghastly,  partly  perhaps  from  the  effects  of 
the  poisonous  gas.  We  had  an  intensely  interested 
listener  as  we  recounted  our  experiences  and  drew  plans 
of  the  line  as  we  thought  it  probably  existed  at  the 
moment.  Whether  the  Germans  could  get  through  or 
not  was  the  dominant  question.  Nothing  lay  between 
them  and  Calais  but  the  Canadian  Division,  and  whe- 
ther the  Canadians  could  hang  on  long  enough  in  face 
of  this  new  terror  of  poison  gas  until  new  troops  arrived, 

105 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

no  one  could  even  venture  to  guess.  We  felt  that  they 
would  do  all  that  men  could  do  under  the  circumstances, 
but  without  means  of  combating  the  poison  it  was  doubt- 
ful what  any  troops  could  do.  Supposing  the  Germans 
just  kept  on  discharging  gas?  Nothing  under  heaven 
apparently  could  stop  them  from  walking  over  the  dead 
bodies  of  our  soldiers,  choked  to  death  like  drowned 
men.  We  could  not  decide  the  question  that  time  alone 
could  answer,  and  we  went  to  bed  to  spend  a  long  sleep- 
less night  longing  for  the  day,  when  we  would  get  news 
of  the  battle. 

The  next  afternoon  I  was  sent  for  by  General  Sir 
Henry  Rawlinson,  commanding  the  corps  in  our  area. 
He  had  heard  that  I  had  seen  the  gas  discharged  the 
day  before  and  wanted  to  know  what  the  gas  was,  what 
the  effect  had  been,  how  it  could  be  combated  and,  in 
fact,  all  about  it.  When  I  had  finished  my  narrative 
he  placed  a  large  map  in  front  of  me  and  asked  me  to 
sketch  out  the  part  of  the  line  where  the  gas  had  been 
discharged,  and  how  I  thought  the  line  should  be  at  the 
present  moment.  I  did  my  best,  tyro  as  I  was.  It  was 
one  of  the  satisfactory  moments  of  my  life  when  the 
General  drew  the  map  to  one  side  and  showed  me  a 
map  of  the  line  as  it  really  was,  given  him  by  General 
Foch  that  very  morning.  The  maps  were  identical,  and 
the  General  smiled  a  smile  of  appreciation  as  he 
thanked  me  for  the  assistance  that  our  laboratory  had 
given  in  helping  to  diagnose  and  combat  this  new  mode 
of  warfare,  and  I  left  his  office  feeling  that  we  had 
been  of  some  real  use  in  the  war  even  if  we  never  did 
anything  else. 

106 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  AFTERMATH  OF  THE  GAS. 

THE  day  after  the  gas  attack  I  reported  to  head- 
quarters, that  in  my  opinion  the  gas  used  was  chlor- 
ine with  possibly  an  admixture  of  bromine,  and  that  a 
mask  with  a  solution  of  "Hypo"  to  cover  the  nose  and 
mouth  would  probably  absorb  the  gas  and  destroy  its 
effectiveness.  I  also  suggested  that  the  battle  area  be 
searched  for  masks  which  the  Germans  were  sure  to 
have  had  prepared  as  a  protection  for  their  own  men. 
(Most  of  the  morning  I  had  spent  in  bed  with  an  attack 
of  bronchitis  suffering  from  the  effects  of  the  gas.) 

Later  I  learned  that  German  prisoners  had  given 
the  information  that  the  gas  was  contained  in  cylinders 
but  would  not  admit  that  they  knew  what  kind  of  gas  it 
was.  They  also  said  that  the  men  who  operated  the 
tanks  wore  protective  masks  and  gloves. 

All  that  day  the  Indians  of  the  Lahore  division 
from  our  area  were  passing  through  our  town  on  the 
way  to  Ypres. 

On  Sunday  afternoon  Captain  Ellis  and  I  left  for 
Vlamertinge  to  find  out  just  what  had  happened.  The 
suspense  had  become  terrible  and  we  felt  like  quitters 
because  we  were  not  in  the  salient  fighting  with  our 
fellows.  At  Poperinge  we  saw  a  cart  on  the  road  beside 
a  house  which  had  been  recently  blown  down  by  a  shell. 
As  we  drove  slowly  by,  a  wounded  old  woman  was 
carried  out  and  laid  beside  the  bodies  of  two  other 

107 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

white-haired  women  who  had  just  been  dug  out  of  the 
ruins.  Though  fatally  injured,  they  were  still  living, 
and  I  shall  never  forget  the  pitiful  looks  on  those  ashy 
gray  faces  as  they  looked  up  into  my  face  with  eyes 
like  those  of  sheep  about  to  be  slaughtered. 

At  No.  3  Canadian  Field  Ambulance  we  found 
that  2,600  Canadian  casualties  had  already  passed 
through  during  the  three  days  since  the  gas  attack.  We 
heard  there  that  Major  Mothersill,  Medical  officer  of 
the  Eighth  Battalion,  had  been  lying  out  in  front  of  the 
lines  for  two  days,  unable  to  move  and  apparently 
paralyzed.  It  was  one  of  those  personal  experiences 
which  brings  the  war  home  to  us  with  startling  reality, 
for  I  had  made  a  tour  of  his  area  with  him  just  a  few 
days  before.  You  hear  of  the  loss  of  a  thousand  men 
and  it  affects  you  very  little,  but  if  you  know  personally 
a  single  one  of  the  thousand,  the  news  of  his  death  may 
give  you  the  blues  for  days.  The  loss  of  a  million  un- 
known Russians  does  not  really  mean  as  much  to  one 
as  the  loss  of  a  single  friend. 

On  our  return  trip  we  passed  a  large  number  of 
London  busses  loaded  with  wounded ;  they  were 
all  sitting-up  cases  and  were  a  very  happy  look- 
ing lot.  It  was  an  odd  sight  to  see  bus  after  bus  tear- 
ing down  that  long,  straight  road,  with  the  tall  trees  on 
either  hand,  each  bus  with  rows  of  soldiers  seated  on  the 
upper  deck,  with  heads  and  arms  bandaged,  looking 
about  at  everything  with  the  greatest  interest, — like  tour- 
ists rather  than  men  who  had  just  come  from  the  very 
gates  of  hell.  They  waved  hearty  greetings  to  the 


108 


THE  AFTERMATH  OF  THE  GAS 

French  artillery  which  was  then  pouring  up  the  side 
roads. 

As  the  French  75's  bumped  along  the  roads,  drawn 
by  rat-tailed,  wiry  horses,  they  looked  like  pale  blue, 
painted  wooden  guns,  instead  of  what  they  were — the 
deadliest  weapon  that  the  war  had  till  then  produced. 
An  officer  who  watched  them  the  following  day  gallop 
onto  the  field,  unlimber  and  start  firing,  told  me  that 
the  way  their  fire  covered  that  front  was  an  absolutely 
uncanny  sight.  With  mathematical  precision  the  shells 
would  begin  to  drop  at  one  end  of  a  field  and  cut  out  a 
belt  across  it  from  side  to  side,  the  belt  growing  as  each 
explosion  threw  up  a  splash  of  dust  from  the  showers 
of  shrapnel ;  having  completed  the  belt  they  would  be- 
gin another  a  few  yards  farther  back  until  the  whole 
field  had  been  covered  and  not  a  soldier  hiding  any- 
where in  it  left  alive. 

On  the  day  of  the  first  gas  attack  there  were  soldiers 
everywhere  back  of  the  line;  that  day  as  we  drove  home 
there  was  not  a  single  one  to  be  seen.  They  had  all 
gone  forward  toward  the  front  where  they  could  be  of 
the  greatest  use. 

When  the  French  people  of  the  little  villages 
through  which  we  passed  saw  the  name  "Canadian"  on 
our  car  they  nudged  each  other  and  repeated  the  word 
"Canadien."  It  was  the  name  in  everybody's  mouth 
those  days,  for  it  was  now  general  knowledge  that  the 
Canadian  divison  had  thrown  itself  into  the  gap  and 
stemmed  the  German  rush  to  Calais.  The  whole  world 
was  ringing  with  the  story  of  how  the  colonial  troops 
had  barred  the  road  to  the  channel  to  a  force  many  times 

109 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

its  size  in  men  and  guns,  and  armed  with  poison  gas, 
the  most  terrible  device  of  warfare  that  had  yet  been 
invented. 

And  well  may  it  be  said  that  the  22nd  of  April, 
1915,  was,  to  the  allies,  one  of  the  two  most  vital  days 
since  the  beginning  of  the  war.  The  Germans  had 
planned  to  break  through  and  seize  the  French  coast 
along  the  narrowest  portion  of  the  channel.  Once 
established  there  they  would  have  attempted  to  cover 
the  channel  with  their  long  range  naval  guns,  while  they 
would  have  established  for  their  submarines  harbours 
which  could  be  protected  by  the  same  guns.  Under 
such  circumstances,  cross  channel  traffic  and  the  maint- 
enance of  our  lines  of  communication  would  hare 
proved  to  be  a  very  difficult  matter  indeed,  for  the  subs 
would  then,  at  any  time,  have  easy  access  to  our  channel 
path. 

The  importance  of  the  Canadian  fight  during  that 
first  twenty-four  hours  was  out  of  all  ratio  to  the  size  of 
our  forces.  The  whole  success  of  the  battle  hinged  on  the 
attack  by  two  battalions  on  the  morning  of  the  23rd  of 
April.  These  two  battalions  were  sent  up  into  the 
centre  of  the  gap  left  in  the  line  by  the  retreat  of  the 
French  colonials.  Supported  by  four  field  guns,  they 
advanced  steadily  under  a  terrific  fire  from  the  enemy. 
As  General  Mercer  said  to  me  afterwards,  it  was, 
according  to  the  book,  probably  as  crazy  a  bit  of  mili- 
tary tactics  as  could  possibly  have  been  tried,  but  the 
very  daring  of  the  attempt  proved  its  success.  The 
Germans,  believing  that  such  a  counter  attack  must  be 
backed  up  by  much  stronger  forces,  hesitated  to  come  on 

110 


THE  AFTERMATH  OF  THE  GAS 

and  the  day  was  saved,  for  while  they  hesitated  and 
made  sure  of  their  ground,  troops  were  hurried  up  from 
other  parts  of  the  line  and  the  Huns  had  missed  their 
chance.  That  first  night  if  the  Germans  had  simply 
walked  ahead  they  would  have  found  nothing  to  stop 
them,  but  they  were  too  much  dazed  with  their  own 
success  to  realize  the  situation  and  take  advantage  of  it. 

Naturally  we  were  thrilled  with  pride  at  the  suc- 
cess of  the  division ;  we  had  been  present  at  its  birth ;  we 
had  watched  it  through  the  various  vicissitudes  of  its 
eventful  career;  and  now  its  great  opportunity  had 
come.  Now  its  name  had  been  indelibly  written  on  the 
scroll  of  fame.  It  had  saved  the  situation  in  one  of  the 
most  critical  happenings  of  the  whole  war. 

The  next  day  the  General  of  the  fourth  corps, 
accompanied  by  his  staff,  paid  a  visit  to  our  laboratory, 
and  the  General  told  us  that  the  Germans  had  tried 
their  gases  on  the  Belgians  the  very  day  after  they  had 
gassed  the  French  and  Canadian  colonial  troops.  But 
the  Belgians  breathed  through  wet  handkerchiefs  till 
the  gas  had  passed  over,  and  when  the  Germans  came 
on,  full  of  confidence  in  the  efficacy  of  their  deadly  new 
weapon,  the  Belgians  gave  them  a  severe  punishing. 

On  April  27th  the  three  of  us  started  out  after  5 
o'clock  to  the  Canadian  area  in  search  of  news.  The 
military  policeman  on  the  road  at  the  outskirts  of 
Poperinge  on  being  queried  said,  "All  right,  no  shells 
to-day  in  Pop."  But  we  got  only  about  150  yards  into 
the  town  when  there  was  a  terrific  hair-raising  explo- 
sion near  us,  followed  by  showers  of  bricks  and  bits 
of  whizzing  shell.  It  was  a  shell  of  very  high  calibre, 

111 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

and  as  we  passed  the  next  cross  street  and  looked  up  it, 
we  could  see  four  houses  settling  into  dust  and  a  few 
people  running  towards  the  spot.  A  telephone  wire 
cut  by  a  flying  fragment  fell  upon  a  car  just  ahead  of 
us.  It  looked  funny  to  see  the  doors  of  the  houses  along 
the  street  belch  forth  their  inmates  who  rushed  to  the 
shutters,  banged  them  to,  rushed  in  again  and  no  doubt 
hid  themselves  in  the  cellars.  It  reminded  us  exactly 
of  the  actions  of  a  flock  of  chickens  when  a  hawk  ap- 
pears in  the  sky. 

A  moment  after,  as  we  were  leaving  the  town,  an- 
other shell  went  screaming  overhead,  exploded  to  our 
right  near  the  station  close  to  the  road,  while  a  third 
went  off  on  our  left.  Some  Belgian  soldiers  who  were 
bringing  in  a  wounded  man  on  their  shoulders  dropped 
flat  upon  the  ground,  letting  the  poor  wounded  chap 
fall  with  a  crash.  We  opened  the  throttle  and  speeded 
on.  A  motor  ambulance  convoy  loaded  with  wounded 
flew  by  us  toward  the  base;  in  fact  everything  on  the 
road  was  going  at  top  speed  that  evening.  We  buttoned 
our  coats  up  to  our  throats  and  took  a  fresh  grip  on  our 
cigars  as  we  tore  up  the  road  into  that  "unhealthy"  dis- 
trict, feeling  that  we  must  go  on.  "This  is  the  life," 
said  the  Major  with  a  grin.  Perhaps  it  was  foolish  but 
the  excitement  was  worth  the  danger. 

In  the  fields  by  the  roadside  were  picketed  cavalry 
horses,  saddled  and  bridled,  and  ready  to  be  mounted  at 
a  moment's  notice.  No  contingency  appeared  to  have 
been  overlooked;  everything  had  been  put  into  readi- 
ness for  anything  that  might  happen. 

At  Vlamertinge  everybody  was  standing  by  ready 

112 


THE  AFTERMATH  OF  THE  GAS 

for  the  word  to  move.  Heavy  shelling  had  been  going 
on  all  day  and  the  shells  were  still  coming  pretty  thick- 
ly. The  street  was  littered  with  broken  bricks,  fresh 
plaster  and  other  debris;  on  all  sides  were  crumbled 
walls  and  ruined  houses.  The  office  of  the  A.D.M.S., 
Colonel  Foster,  had  a  shell  hole  right  through  it  and 
his  desk  was  covered  with  plaster.  The  office  staff 
occupied  the  cellar  and  they  informed  us  that  the  offi- 
cers were  housed  in  a  white  chateau  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  street.  There  were  several  officers  there; 
most  of  them  evidently  thought  that  we  were  fools  to 
come  voluntarily  into  a  place  that  they  would  have 
given  a  good  deal  to  be  out  of. 

The  front  line  was  being  held,  and  things  were 
going  fairly  well  in  the  salient.  But  sitting  around  in 
a  building  that  was  liable  to  be  blown  up  any  moment 
was  not  pleasant  work  for  either  officers  or  men,  and 
some  of  the  men  who  had  been  subjected  to  the  strain 
for  several  days  showed  unmistakable  evidences  of  it. 
The  Canadians  had  lost  heavily  but  as  yet  no  accurate 
figures  were  obtainable  on  account  of  the  complicated 
nature  of  the  fighting  and  the  fact  that  the  wounded 
were  going  through  several  ambulances. 

We  did  not  stay  any  longer  than  was  necessary  to 
obtain  the  news  and  our  return  trip  to  Poperinge  was 
a  record  one.  We  saw  freshly-killed  horses  on  the 
roadside,  and  in  the  Grande  Place  in  "Pop"  the  fresh 
shell  holes  showed  that  the  process  of  hammering  was 
still  going  on  with  undiminishing  vigour.  Dinner  was 
half  over  when  we  reached  our  mess  that  evening.  As 
we  entered  the  room  a  tin  bowl  fell  to  the  floor  with  a 

113 
9 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

crash.  Every  person  in  the  room  started  as  though  it 
were  a  bomb,  and  we,  fresh  from  our  day's  experiences, 
ducked  our  heads  for  safety.  Tired  out,  we  said  nothing 
about  our  trip  and  went  to  bed  early. 

The  next  few  days  were  full  of  interest.  The  news 
from  the  Canadian  Division  was  both  good  and  bad. 
they  had  had  6,000  casualties, — practically  half  of  the 
infantry, — but  all  the  reports,  even  those  of  the  Germans 
themselves,  agreed  in  giving  them  credit  for  having 
fought  like  fiends  and  having  spoiled  the  great  German 
plan.  The  first  lists  of  the  killed  had  come  out  and  con- 
tained the  names  of  many  of  my  personal  friends,  and 
the  sense  of  a  great  pride  in  the  achievements  of  one 
division  was  marred  by  the  sorrow  for  their  loss. 

The  town  of  Poperinge  was  now  deserted.  Travel- 
ling in  that  direction  one  morning  I  met  streams  of 
refugees  coming  from  it  and  on  entering  it  found  it  like 
a  city  of  the  dead.  Not  a  soul  could  be  seen  except  one 
small  unit  which  had  been  temporarily  forgotten.  The 
French  gendarmes  had  driven  the  inhabitants  out  of 
the  place  because  it  was  said  to  be  full  of  spies  who  had 
been  of  great  assistance  to  the  enemy  at  a  time  when  any 
bit  of  information  might  be  of  incalculable  value  to 
them.  From  one  of  the  men  of  this  stranded  unit  I  ob- 
tained a  three-pound  piece  of  the  15-inch  shell  which 
had  exploded  close  to  us  a  few  days  before. 

A  non-com  of  the  sanitary  section  who  had  come 
through  Ypres  an  hour  before  told  me  that  he  had 
seen  an  old  woman  over  80  years  of  age  sweeping  the 
front  sidewalk  and  polishing  the  windows.  She  was 
perhaps  the  only  remaining  resident. 

114 


THE  AFTERMATH  OF  THE  GAS 

The  city  was  being  steadily  reduced  to  ruins  by  a 
continuous  avalanche  of  shells  and  he  spoke  to  her  and 
tried  to  induce  her  to  come  with  him  but  without  avail. 
"She  had  lived  there  all  her  life  and  she  intended  to  die 
there ;  it  had  been  her  custom  to  clean  the  windows  and 
sweep  the  sidewalks,  and  if  Providence  willed  that 
shells  should  come  and  knock  down  her  neighbors' 
houses  and  make  a  lot  of  dust,  she  would  just  have  to 
sweep  oftener,  what  was  the  difference  anyway?"  And 
so  he  had  to  leave  her. 

The  laboratory  at  this  time  was  a  place  of  much 
interest  and  many  distinguished  generals  and  medical 
men  came  to  find  out  about  the  gas  and  methods  of 
combating  it.  General  Headquarters  had  sent  for  me 
to  watch  some  practical  field  experiments  and  to  give 
them  the  benefit  of  our  experience  on  this  question. 
With  the  chief  engineer  of  the  local  army  we  carried  out 
some  experimental  work  of  our  own  on  a  large  scale. 
These  experiments  led  to  certain  recommendations 
which  were  later  found  to  be  of  value  in  making  the 
German  gases  less  effective.  We  also  did  a  good  deal  of 
experimental  laboratory  work  with  other  gases  which 
might  possibly  be  used,  with  the  object  of  discovering 
their  antidotes. 

On  May  Sth  the  Canadian  transport  was  strung 
along  the  roads  leading  from  Ypres  and  we  knew  that 
the  division  was  out  for  a  rest.  We  hunted  out  some  of 
our  friends  in  Bailleul, — some  of  the  few  that  were 
left.  There  were  7  of  the  25  officers  in  the  3rd  (Toron- 
to) battalion  and  6  out  of  the  25  in  the  48th  Highlan- 
ders of  Toronto,  though  the  missing  ones  had  not  all 

115 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

been  killed.  They  were  greatly  changed  in  appearance, 
were  very  tired,  and  could  tell  little  of  their  experiences 
in  any  connected  way;  at  that  time  they  had  simply  a 
succession  of  blurred  impressions;  they  could  recall  a 
terrible  excitement  but  had  little  idea  of  the  sequence 
of  events.  The  men,  sitting  around  the  streets  of 
Bailleul  in  the  sun,  looked  as  if  they  had  seen  and  ex- 
perienced more  than  they  could  ever  tell. 

One  of  my  officer  comrades  had  gone  insane,  and 
another  had  been  so  shell  shocked  that  he  was  of  no 
further  use  and  had  been  sent  to  England, — the  latter 
was  one  of  those  officers  whom  I  had  seen  in  the  little 
club  house  at  Winnezeele.  Two  of  my  friends  had  been 
buried  out  in  the  front  one  night  with  two  other  officers 
—all  in  the  one  shell  hole. 

The  medical  officer,  Captain  Haywood,  conducted 
the  burial  without  candle  or  book.  The  green  white 
light  from  the  German  flares  and  the  red  flashes  of 
the  guns  was  the  only  light  to  show  the  sad  little  party 
where  their  erstwhile  comrades  rested.  The  lay  par- 
son, exhausted  with  seventy  hours'  continuous  work,  and 
unable  to  recall  a  single  word  of  the  burial  service, 
broke  huskily  into  this  rugged  commendation,  "Well, 
boys,  they  were  four  damn  good  fellows ;  let  us  repeat 
the  Lord's  prayer,"  but  they  couldn't  manage  to  say  even 
the  Lord's  prayer  among  them. 

What  a  setting  for  a  soldier  funeral!  The  black 
night,  the  roar  and  flash  of  the  guns  and  the  green  flare 
of  the  German  star  shells  silhouetting  those  bowed 
heads  above  the  soldiers'  grave.  What  a  fitting  tribute 
to  a  soldier!  The  broken  voice  with  the  rough  and 

116 


THE  AFTERMATH  OF  THE  GAS 

ready  words  of  praise:  "They  were  four  damn  good 
fellows."  What  more  could  be  said?  What  more  would 
any  soldier  desire? 

One  chap  had  seen  General  Mercer,  with  his  aide- 
de-camp  by  his  side,  crossing  a  fire-swept  field  deliber- 
ately stop  in  the  middle  of  it  to  light  his  pipe.  Every- 
body agreed  that  the  General  was  the  coolest  man  in 
sight  that  day.  The  Aide  himself  assured  me  that  it 
took  several  matches  to  light  the  General's  pipe  and 
that  the  matches  were  the  slow-burning  variety;  he  said 
that  it  seemed  to  him  to  have  taken  about  an  hour  to 
light  that  pipe,  and  all  the  time  he  was  wishing  himself 
safe  in  the  shelter  of  a  ditch.  It  had  not  been  mere 
bravado  on  the  General's  part  but  a  deliberately 
planned  act  to  steady  his  men. 

Some  of  the  Canadian  soldiers  came  into  the  dress- 
ing stations  during  the  battle,  accoutred  in  wonderful 
equipment  that  had  taken  their  fancies.  One  wounded 
chap  wore  an  Indian's  turban,  a  French  officer's  spurs 
and  a  British  officer's  pistol. 

Major  W.  D.  Allan  had  seven  bullet  holes  in  his 
clothing,  two  of  them  through  his  hat;  and  yet  his  skin 
was  not  broken.  The  nearest  approach  to  a  wound  was 
a  big  triangular  bruise  on  his  shoulder,  made  by  a  piece 
of  spent  high  explosive.  One  of  the  bullets  had  gone 
through  his  hat  and  tipped  it  over  his  eyes  as  his  unit 
was  falling  back  from  one  trench  to  another;  he  said 
that  he  was  positive  he  had  broken  the  world's  record 
for  a  hundred  yards  in  the  next  few  seconds. 

The  First  Battalion,  at  whose  mess  I  dined  one 
night,  had  lost  400  out  of  a  total  of  800  men  during  a 

117 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

600-yard  advance  into  the  breach  made  by  the  German 
gas  in  the  face  of  a  terrific  fire. 

Meanwhile  preparations  were  in  progress  for  a 
battle  in  our  area  evidently  for  the  purpose  of  relieving 
the  pressure  on  the  line  elsewhere,  and  on  the  9th  of 
May  we  were  wakened  at  4.30  a.m.  by  the  final  bom- 
bardment. I  had  been  invited  to  witness  the  battle  by 
a  general  on  the  staff  but  I  was  unable  to  go. 

The  first  wounded  came  in  about  noon  and  by  four 
o'clock  the  hospital  where  we  took  our  meals  was  filled. 
From  the  windows  above  we  could  see  scores  of  wound- 
ed lying  in  rows  on  stretchers  in  that  sunny  courtyard, 
some  conscious  and  others  unconscious.  Every  con- 
scious wounded  soldier  held  a  cigarette  between  his 
lips  and  I  even  saw  them  going  in  to  the  operating  table 
smoking.  The  wounded  were  a  depressed  lot  that  day; 
the  men  themselves  realized  that  they  had  been  badly 
cut  up  for  little  purpose,  for  the  wire  had  not  been 
destroyed  and  they  had  been  unable  to  make  any  pro- 
gress. The  authorities  in  England  had  not  yet  realized 
that  high  explosives  were  necessary  to  cut  wire  in  spite 
of  the  fact  that  everybody  in  the  field  knew  it.  It  re- 
quired a  newspaper  agitation  to  convert  some  of  the 
authorities  as  to  the  need  of  high  explosives. 

After  a  rest  the  Canadians  took  over  a  new  piece  of 
line  near  Festubert,  and  a  hot  spot  it  was.  We  knew  this 
area  well  as  far  forward  as  the  advanced  dressing 
stations,  and  had  been  there  by  day  and  night  in  the 
car. 

When  the  Canadian  attack  at  Festubert  began, 
I  was  wakened  one  night  by  a  lull  in  the  booming  of  the 

118 


THE  AFTERMATH  OF  THE  GAS 

guns,  and  got  up  to  sit  by  the  window.  It  was  one  of 
those  still  nights  in  June  when  every  sound  carries  for 
miles.  The  odours  of  sweet  flowers  floated  up  from 
the  garden  below,  and  the  splash,  splash  of  frogs  hop- 
ping into  the  river  could  be  heard  from  time  to  time. 
The  guns  had  stopped,  but  the  rattle  of  rapid  rifle  fire 
was  as  distinct  as  if  it  had  been  only  half  a  mile  away; 
then  the  rattle  of  machine  guns  could  be  distinguished, 
succeeded  by  the  explosions  of  hand  grenades,  and  I 
knew  that  the  Canadians  were  hard  at  it,  probably  with 
the  bayonet.  It  was  not  a  comfortable  feeling  to  sit 
seven  miles  away  and  listen  to  a  succession  of  sounds 
so  full  of  meaning,  nor  is  a  vivid  imagination  a  good 
thing  for  a  soldier  to  have  in  the  field. 

The  following  day  a  young  lieutenant  whom  I  had 
hunted  out  three  days  before,  came  in  to  the  clearing 
station  down  the  street,  wounded  in  shoulder,  head,  hip 
and  leg,  with  shrapnel.  That  boy  is  now  Major  Mavor, 
M.C.,  D.S.O. 

Two  days  after,  we  drove  over  to  headquarters  of 
the  1st  army.  .With  the  sun  setting  in  a  gorgeous  glow, 
and  with  hedges  in  full  blossom,  Flanders  was  trans- 
formed for  once  that  evening  into  a  land  of  beauty. 

About  ten  o'clock  we  heard  a  hum  of  an  aeroplane 
overhead  and  then  a  series  of  explosions,  like  those  of  a 
heavy  gun.  Flashes  were  seen  in  the  direction  of  a 
French  town  where  there  were  great  steel  works  and  we 
drove  home  that  way.  The  inhabitants  of  the  country 
and  the  hamlets  along  the  road  were  all  out  of  doors 
gazing  at  the  sky,  and  as  we  entered  the  bombed  town 
we  found  everybody  quite  excited.  Eight  bombs  had 

119 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

been  dropped  in  the  place,  but  none  of  them  had  any 
effect,  except  to  rouse  the  populace  to  a  condition  of  ex- 
citement. 

Our  headlights  were  burning,  and  suspicion  was 
evidently  aroused  as  to  the  possibility  of  this  being  con- 
nected with  the  attack,  for  we  were  suddenly  halted 
by  a  blue-coated  French  soldier  stepping  in  front  of  the 
car  and  holding  his  gun  above  his  head  in  the  usual 
way  while  eight  other  French  soldiers  surrounded  us. 
Some  of  them  pointed  bayonets  threateningly  at  us 
while  we  were  all  covered  by  rifles.  It  was  quite  a 
picture.  Our  headlights  shone  brilliantly  on  the  three 
men  in  front,  while  the  faces  of  the  others,  nearly  all 
with  moustachios  and  goatees,  lit  up  by  the  moon  and 
the  glare  of  the  red  lights  from  the  works,  looked  most 
ferocious.  The  slender,  flashing  French  bayonets 
seemed  to  be  at  least  three  feet  long. 

As  we  waited  to  be  identified,  a  British  sergeant 
lounged  forward,  a  little  the  worse  for  beer,  and  nodded 
cordially  as  he  leaned  carelessly  on  the  front  door  and 
explained  all  about  the  bombs.  At  a  word  from  him 
the  Frenchmen  fell  back,  and  we  moved  on.  Every 
house  seemed  to  have  a  soldier  on  guard,  but  we  were 
not  questioned  further,  and  drove  peacefully  home 
along  the  canal,  whose  iris-decked  banks  were  perfect- 
ly reflected  in  its  glassy  waters  in  the  brilliant  moon- 
light. 

Again  I  changed  my  billet  by  the  bridge  to  live 
at  a  fine  old  house  farther  up  the  river.  It  had  a  beau- 
tiful old  garden  which  was  separated  from  the  street  by 
a  high  iron  fence  on  a  brick  foundation.  Walnut  trees 

120 


THE  AFTERMATH  OF  THE  GAS 

from  the  garden  overhung  the  street  and  shaded  a  little 
octagonal  summer  house.  The  old-fashioned,  square, 
red  brick  house  faced  the  lawn,  in  the  centre  of  which 
was  an  elongated  brick-lined  pool  of  water  with  a 
bridge  over  it.  In  the  centre  of  the  lawn  was  a  large 
polished  silver  ball  on  a  pedestal;  this  was  regarded  as 
a  fine  ornament.  The  lawn  was  separated  from  the  gar- 
den by  a  high  hedge.  The  garden  proper,  a  real  old- 
fashioned  one,  containing  many  berry  bushes,  fruit  trees, 
and  a  few  old-fashioned  flowers,  ran  right  back  to  the 
river.  A  brick  boundary  wall  kept  the  river  from 
washing  away  the  banks,  and  brick  steps  led  down  to  a 
little  floating  platform.  There  was  much  shade  in  that 
old  French  garden ;  it  was  the  most  peaceful  and  restful 
place  that  I  ever  found  in  France.  Even  aeroplanes 
sailing  overhead  on  their  missions  of  destruction  seemed 
from  my  garden  to  be  harmless. 

I  always  took  my  French  lesson  there  after  dinner, 
when  the  bees  droned  about  and  one  had  an  irresistible 
desire  to  sleep.  My  teacher,  Professor  Paul  Balbaud, 
had  been  a  lecturer  in  Toronto  University,  and  at  this 
time  was  drawing  the  magnificent  sum  of  one  cent  a 
day  as  a  private  in  the  French  77th  territorial  regiment. 
On  one  occasion  he  presented  me  with  ten  days'  pay 
which  he  had  received  that  very  morning,  and  I  had 
the  two  five-sou  silver  pieces  made  into  watch  charms. 
Monsieur  Balbaud  was  engaged  in  the  telegraph  ser- 
vice, and  was  an  excellent  teacher.  Later  on  that  year 
the  pay  of  the  French  soldier  was  raised  to  five  cents 
a  day. 

Madam  Carre,  a  dear  old  lady,  owned  the  house 

121 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

and  she  was  kindness  itself.  Nothing  was  too  good  for 
the  Canadians.  Her  grand-daughter,  a  tall  good  look- 
ing girl  of  Spanish  descent,  twenty-one  years  of  age,  had 
been  married  seven  months  when  the  war  broke  out, 
and  her  husband,  an  artillery  man,  had  been  killed. 
Three  times  a  day  during  that  first  year  did  the  girl  go 
to  church  to  pray  for  the  safety  of  her  husband,  for  she 
would  not  believe  him  dead. 

I  was  wakened  the  very  first  night  at  my  new  billet, 
about  2  a.m.,  by  the  rat-a-tat  of  a  kettle-drum,  and  two 
dreary  notes  continuously  repeated  by  a  bugle.  It  was 
the  alarm  for  a  fire  at  a  farmhouse  about  half  a  mile 
from  town.  Our  men  from  the  hospital  helped  to  get 
most  of  the  furniture  out,  and  were  standing  around 
watching  the  farmhouse  and  barns  burn  down,  when  the 
17  Brigade  Lancers  appeared  with  the  hand  hose-reel, 
which,  however,  proved  to  be  useless.  The  Lancers  had 
broken  into  the  fire  hall  and  stolen  the  apparatus. 

The  local  firemen  afterwards  came  to  the  fire  hall 
but  found  the  engine  gone;  after  some  discussion  they 
went  home  and  donned  their  white  duck  trousers,  blue 
tunics,  and  polished  brass  helmets.  The  fire  chief  and 
first  deputy  then  had  a  dispute  about  something  which 
resulted  in  the  deputy  going  home  in  a  huff,  while  the 
chief  and  the  second  deputy  (the  whole  fire  brigade) 
resplendent  in  their  spotless  uniforms  of  white,  blue  and 
gold,  marched  out  to  the  fire.  The  British  soldiers 
lined  up  when  they  saw  them  coming,  and  gave  them 
three  rousing  cheers,  while  one  of  the  Tommies  solemn- 
ly swept  the  road  before  them  with  a  broom.  As  my 


122 


THE  AFTERMATH  OF  THE  GAS 

chauffeur  "Rad"  said,  "It  was  just  like  a  scene  from  a 
blinking  comic  opera." 

The  area  was  now  well  known  to  us,  for,  in  the 
course  of  our  work,  we  had  been  over  every  bit  of 
road  in  it.  It  was  very  noticeable  how  the  farmhouses 
along  some  roads,  which  paralleled  the  front  line 
trenches  about  one  and  a  half  miles  behind  it,  gradually 
disappeared.  On  Monday  perhaps  we  would  have  to 
go  down  to  a  certain  battery  located  on  this  road,  and 
there  would  be  a  dozen  intact  farmhouses  in  the  course 
of  a  half  mile.  On  Friday  of  the  same  week,  one  or 
more  of  them  would  be  burned  down,  while  the  shell 
holes  in  the  fields  and  road  around  them  indicated 
deliberate  concentration  of  fire. 

Our  work  was  interesting  and  we  kept  busy  all  the 
time.  The  monotony  of  working  seven  days  a  week, 
however,  becomes  very  great  after  a  few  weeks  and 
seriously  affects  the  health  and  the  ability  to  work.  In 
the  other  army  services  work  came  in  periodical  bursts ; 
ours  was  a  steady  grind  of  seven  days  a*  week. 

We  saw  the  hay  mowed  and  gathered  in;  we 
noticed  the  grain  fields  gradually  turn  to  gold,  saw  the 
reaping  and  all  other  operations  of  mixed  farming 
carried  on  in  all  its  interesting  detail.  Meanwhile  the 
First  Canadian  Division  had  settled  down  in  the  Ploeg- 
steert  section,  which  was  out  of  our  area,  and  the  second 
Canadian  Division  had  arrived  and  joined  up  with 
them.  The  Second  Division  had  come  over  to  teach  the 
First  Division  a  lot  of  things  and  there  was  a  fair 
amount  of  feeling  between  them  as  will  be  seen  from 
the  following  confidential  conversation  between  two 

123 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

brothers  in  different  divisions,  upon  meeting  for  the 
first  time: 

"Say,  we  have  had  a  hell  of  a  time  trying  to  live 
down  your  reputation,"  said  the  younger  brother. 

"Yes,  and  you  will  also  have  a  hell  of  a  time  trying 
to  live  up  to  it,  too,"  retorted  the  senior. 

And  there  the  matter  rested  until  events  subse- 
quently showed  that  both  divisions  were  composed  of 
exactly  the  same  stuff. 


124 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  MEDICAL  ORGANIZATION  OF  THE  BRITISH  ARMY. 

EACH  battalion  at  the  front  has  a  headquarters, 
usually  in  a  dug-out  or  a  sheltered  farm  house  close 
to  the  lines:  each  brigade,  consisting  of  four  infantry 
battalions  has  a  headquarters  farther  to  the  rear:  each 
division,  consisting  of  three' infantry  brigades,  artillery, 
etc.  has  a  divisional  headquarters  in  some  town,  still 
farther  to  the  rear,  out  of  shell  range :  each  corps  com- 
prising two  to  four  divisions  has  its  headquarters  in  a 
town  back  of  this  again :  each  army,  composed  of  two 
to  four  corps,  has  its  headquarters  still  farther  to  the 
rear,  and  the  popular  idea  of  the  Tommy  is  that  since 
the  respective  headquarters  occupy  bigger  and  bigger 
chateaux  the  farther  back  they  go,  away  back  some- 
where in  a  town  all  by  himself,  living  in  a  big  castle 
from  which  he  operates  everything,  is  the  commander- 
in-chief  of  the  whole  British  Army. 

General  headquarters  is  usually  a  very  busy  place, 
for  there  are  the  heads  of  the  various  services  of  the 
army,  and  all  the  orders  affecting  the  army  as  a  whole 
are  issued  through  it.  The  offices  of  the  chiefs  of  the 
services  are  business  offices  and  are  operated  in  a  most 
business-like  way.  The  system  is  so  perfect  that  it  is 
difficult  to  escape  from  it  should  an  order  be  neglected 
or  a  duty  left  undone. 

Among  these  chiefs  is  the  Director-General  of 
Medical  Services  of  the  British  Army  in  the  field,  Gen- 

125 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

eral  Sir  Arthur  Sloggett.  Through  him  and  his  deputy, 
General  Macpherson,  went  all  the  general  orders  affect- 
ing the  health  of  the  army. 

At  the  head  of  each  army  medical  service  is  a 
Surgeon-General  (D.M.S.,  or  Director  of  Medical 
Services),  and  at  the  head  of  each  corps  a  full  colonel 
(D.D.M.S.  or  Deputy  Director  of  Medical  Service). 
The  chief  medical  man  of  each  division  is  also  a  full 
colonel  (the  A.D.M.S.  or  Assistant  Director  of  JMedi- 
cal  Services),  and  he  is  responsible  for  the  operation  of 
the  field  ambulances  and  the  evacuation  of  the  wound- 
ed to  the  casualty  clearing  station  while  his  division 
is  in  the  firing  line.  The  medical  officers  of  battalions 
and  the  sanitary  squad  are  also  under  him. 

The  casualty  clearing  stations  and  the  mobile 
laboratories,  are  under  the  D.M.S.  of  the  army,  who  is 
responsible  for  the  clearing  of  the  hospitals  by  motor 
ambulance  convoys  and  by  hospital  train. 

There  are  normally  three  field  ambulances  to 
each  division  and  one  casualty  clearing  station.  The 
number  of  base  hospitals  to  each  division  is  normally 
two,  but  as  many  of  these  are  utilized  as  are  needed. 
They  are  scores  of  miles  from  the  fighting  zone,  and 
do  not  particularly  concern  us  here. 

When  a  battalion  medical  officer  or  sanitary  officer 
wishes  to  make  a  report  or  suggestion  he  does  so  through 
the  A.D.M.S.  of  the  division.  In  the  same  way  the 
A.D.M.S.  of  the  division  communicates  with  the 
D.D.M.S.  of  the  corps;  the  D.D.M.S.  of  the  corps  with 
the  D.M.S.  of  the  army,  and  the  D.M.S.  of  the  army 
with  the  D.G.M.S.  at  G.H.Q.  A  battalion  medical  offi- 

126 


THE  MEDICAL  ORGANIZATION  OF  ARMY 

cer  cannot  go  over  the  head  of  his  A.D.M.S.,  nor  could 
the  latter  pass  his  D.D.M.S.  to  make  a  report  or  sugges- 
tion. Everything  must  go  up  or  down  the  system  through 
the  various  heads,  and  no  side  stepping  is  permitted. 

The  front  line  trenches  were  about  seven  miles 
from  our  laboratory  which  was  located  in  a  town  with 
three  casualty  clearing  stations,  a  railroad  and  canal. 
This  made  it  possible  to  evacuate  the  wounded  rapidly 
to  the  base  by  means  of  hospital  trains  and  barges  dur- 
ing an  engagement. 

The  system  which  enables  a  sick  or  wounded  man 
to  be  removed  from  the  front  is  simple  enough.  Each 
day  the  medical  officer  of  a  battalion,  who  himself  may 
be  located  in  a  dug-out  in  the  trenches  themselves  or 
in  a  cellar  of  a  house  not  far  behind  the  trenches,  holds 
a  "sick  parade"  at  his  "regimental  aid  post."  During 
a  battle  the  wounded  are  collected  by  the  regimental 
stretcher  bearers  and  brought  to  the  aid  post. 

Any  soldier  who  is  feeling  unwell  reports  to  the 
M.O.  of  the  battalion  who,  if  the  trouble  is  a  minor 
one,  may  give  him  some  suitable  medicine.  It  is  one  of 
the  difficulties  of  the  M.O.  to  distinguish  between  a 
case  of  genuine  illness  and  a  fakir  or  "scrimshanker," 
and  a  good  supply  of  common  sense  and  a  knowledge 
of  human  nature  is  a  great  asset  in  making  correct  diag- 
noses. It  is  almost  impossible,  for  example,  to  distin- 
guish between  a  genuine  case  of  rheumatism  and  a 
clever  imitation  of  it,  because  the  only  symptoms  are 
pains,  the  effects  of  which  can  easily  be  simulated  by 
a  soldier.  If  the  man  shows  serious  symptoms  he  is 
sent  back  to  the  "advanced  dressing  station"  which 

127 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

will  probably  be  a  mile  or  so  behind  the  front  line 
trenches,  if  possible  in  a  house  and  on  a  road  accessible 
to  motor  ambulances. 

If  the  man  can  walk  he  goes  through  the  nearest 
communication  trench;  if  wounded  he  is  given  first  aid, 
and  if  unable  to  walk  he  is  helped  or  carried  back  by 
stretcher  bearers  from  the  ambulance — to  the  dressing 
station. 

Some  of  these  dressing  stations  taking  in  wounded 
under  shell  fire  were  located  in  shell-proof  dugouts. 
At' many  points  light  narrow  gauge  railroads  had  been 
built  which  ran  from  the  dressing  stations  right  up  to 
the  trenches.  On  these  railways  little  cars  pushed  by 
hand  were  used  both  for  bringing  out  the  wounded 
during  a  battle  and  for  taking  in  food,  water  and  other 
supplies.  It  is,  of  course,  impossible  to  lay  such  railways 
in  many  parts  of  the  lines  where  they  would  be  exposed 
to  direct  observation  by  the  enemy,  but  they  are  becom- 
ing more  and  more  numerous  as  their  value  in  saving 
time  and  labour  in  the  "man  handling"  of  food  and 
trench  supplies  has  been  proved.  At  one  of  these  dress- 
ing stations  where  the  railway  came  right  up  to  the  shell 
proof  dugouts  fresh  shell  holes  in  the  neighborhood 
testified  to  the  fact  that  the  work  of  the  field  ambu- 
lances is  at  times  not  unmixed  with  excitement. 

The  cases  which  accumulate  at  the  advanced 
dressing  station  are  given  further  treatment  if  re- 
quired, and  are  evacuated  by  motor  ambulance,  usually 
at  night,  as  the  road  to  the  station  is  frequently  under 
the  enemy's  observation,  to  the  field  ambulance  proper 


128 


THE  MEDICAL  ORGANIZATION  OF  ARMY 

where  they  are  given  further  treatment  or  dressings  as 
the  necessity  may  be. 

From  the  field  ambulance  the  sick  and  wounded 
are  cleared  by  motor  ambulance  convoy  to  the  casualty 
clearing  station,  or  possibly  in  cases  of  tired  or  slightly 
shell-shocked  officers  and  men,  to  the  rest  stations  or 
convalescent  hospitals,  of  which  there  are  a  number 
well  behind  the  firing  line. 

At  the  casualty  clearing  station  the  men  are 
checked  over,  their  wounds  redressed,  operations  per- 
formed, and  all  the  work  done  necessary  to  enable  the 
men  to  be  passed  on  to  the  base  hospital  by  hospital 
train  or  barge.  These  clearing  stations,  of  which 
there  are  usually  three  in  a  town,  may  keep  certain  seri- 
ous cases  for  days  until  it  is  deemed  advisable  to  send 
them  on. 

While  one  clearing  station  is  filling  up  and  treat- 
ing the  patients,  the  other  will  be  sending  all  possible 
treated  cases  down  the  line.  From  the  base  hospitals, 
which  are  near  the  sea,  the  men  are  forwarded  as  soon 
as  advisable  by  hospital  ships  for  distribution  among 
the  hospitals  of  England. 

While  a  battle  is  in  progress  the  men  pass  through 
this  system  so  rapidly  that  they  may  be  wounded  one 
morning  and  be  in  a  hospital  in  England  the  next. 

The  medical  officer,  of  course,  is  attached  to  the 
battalion,  and  goes  everywhere  with  it,  and  under  him 
are  a  number  of  stretcher  bearers  who  gather  up  the 
wounded.  The  advanced  dressing  station  is  merely 
an  advanced  party  from  the  field  ambulance  which 
itself  is  divided  into  three  sections,  each  of  which  may 

129 
10 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

operate  independently  according  to  the  nature  of  the 
country.  Each  ambulance  is  self-contained,  having  its 
own  transport,  and  by  using  tents  can  work  in  an  area 
which  has  no  houses  or  other  shelter. 

The  casualty  clearing  station,  on  the  other  hand, 
having  an  established  capacity  of  nearly  600  beds,  has 
much  heavier  equipment  and  is  not  supposed  to  be  a 
mobile  unit,  though  it  is  capable  of  moving  with  the  aid 
of  its  two  lorries  by  making  repeated  trips.  Many  of 
the  casualty  clearing  stations  are  located  in  huts  which 
can  be  torn  down  and  moved  forward  and  rebuilt  by 
the  engineers  and  construction  units. 

There  is  also  in  each  division  a  sanitary  section 
composed  of  one  officer  and  25  men,  whose  function  it 
is  to  keep  an  eye  on  the  sanitation  of  the  divisional  area, 
report  failure  on  the  part  of  units  to  observe  the  estab- 
lished sanitary  regulations,  see  that  the  incinerators 
are  operated,  have  new  sources  of  drinking  water  tested, 
look  after  the  bath  houses  on  occasion,  search  for  cases 
of  typhoid  fever,  etc.,  among  the  civilian  population, 
and,  in  general,  make  itself  as  useful  as  possible. 

The  British  army  regulations  are  such  that  each 
officer  and  man  must  be  a  sanitarian  and  must  not  only 
observe  the  regulations  but  see  that  others  do  the  same; 
the  principle  underlying  this  system  being  that  "if  each 
before  his  doorstep  swept  the  village  would  be  clean." 
Consequently  it  is  not  left  to  the  sanitary  section  to 
clean  up  a  divisional  area,  but  rather  to  report  those 
responsible  for  not  keeping  it  clean.  In  this  way  every 
man  is  made  a  responsible  party,  and  if  the  officers  of 


130 


THE  MEDICAL  ORGANIZATION  OF  ARMY 

any  unit  see  that  the  regulations  are  enforced  by  each 
man,  the  unit  will  be  a  sanitary  one. 

Naturally  as  the  battalion  M.O.  is  directly  connect- 
ed with  the  field  ambulance  to  which  he  sends  his  cases, 
he  is  most  interested  in  the  efficiency  of  that  unit.  Since 
the  field  ambulances  are  under  the  direct  supervision  of 
the  A.D.M.S.  of  the  division,  you  will  find  the  latter 
during  a  battle  visiting  these  to  see  that  they  are  operat- 
ing smoothly  and  whether  more  motor  ambulances, 
stretchers,  supplies  or  other  necessities  are  being  pro- 
vided. 

At  the  same  time  you  will  find  the  D.M.S.  of  the 
army  visiting  his  special  pets,  the  casualty  clearing 
stations,  and  seeing  that  the  evacuation  of  the  wounded 
by  train  is  working  smoothly. 

The  hospital  trains  are  specially  fitted  up  with 
beds,  kitchens  and  dispensaries,  and  with  nurses  and 
a  medical  officer  in  charge. 

The  hospital  barges  make  the  finest  little  hospitals 
that  you  could  desire.  They  are  the  ordinary  flat-bot- 
tomed square-ended  Dutch  barges,  roofed  in,  and  when 
the  interior  has  been  cleared  out  they  form  elongated 
covered  floating  boxes.  Skylights  in  the  roof  give  a 
splendid  light,  and  the  barges  are  wide  enough  to  allow 
of  two  rows  of  beds  with  an  aisle  down  the  middle.  The 
medical  officer's  surgery  and  bedroom  are  at  one  end 
of  the  barge,  while  the  nurses'  quarters  are  at  the  other. 

The  barge  is  entered  through  the  roof  by  a  stair- 
way, and  the  first  impression  one  gets  on  descending 
these  is  ,one  of  cosiness  and  restfulness  that  is  never 
forgotten.  Whether  the  barge  is  moving  or  at  rest  can- 

131 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

not  be  determined  while  one  is  inside,  because  the  motion 
is  so  easy  through  these  sleepy  placid  canals.  Usually 
only  serious  cases  that  cannot  stand  the  vibration  and 
jar  of  a  train  journey  are  taken  by  the  water  route. 

In  the  British  Army  there  are  specialists  of  renown 
in  medicine  and  surgery  who  are  supposed  to  supervise 
the  medical  and  surgical  work  of  a  certain  given  area. 
They  travel  about,  find  anything  new  that  occurs  of  in- 
terest, act  as  advisers,  and  hand  on  to  other  units  the 
special  information  or  "stunts"  that  have  been  worked 
out  or  discovered  at  home  or  in  the  field.  The  consult- 
ing surgeons  are  usually  to  be  found  during  a  battle 
operating  where  there  is  the  greatest  need  of  skilled 
surgery. 

Besides  the  sanitary  officer  of  each  division  there  is 
a  sanitary  officer  for  each  army,  and  a  chief  sanitary 
officer  for  the  whole  expeditionary  force.  These  are 
all  in  touch  with  the  sanitary  adviser  at  the  base  and  the 
authorities  in  England.  Since,  under  war  conditions, 
new  developments  are  always  taking  place  in  this  work, 
the  knowledge  gained  of  practical  value  filters  through 
to  the  army  by  these  channels  as  well  as  through  the 
scientific  journals. 

Each  army  is  provided  in  the  field  with  one  or 
more  "advanced  depots  of  medical  stores"  which  keep 
on  hand  and  give  out  the  drugs  and  medical  materials 
demanded  by  the  various  hospitals  and  medical  units. 
If,  for  example,  a  field  ambulance  wants  a  lot  of  iodine, 
absorbent  cotton,  etc.,  the  officer  commanding  sends  an 
ambulance  with  an  indent  signed  by  himself,  and  the 


132 


THE  MEDICAL  ORGANIZATION  OF  ARMY 

officer  in  charge  of  the  depot  hands  over  the  material 
required. 

There  are  other  branches  of  the  service,  like  the  gas 
schools  and  inland  water  service,  which,  though  strictly 
not  medical,  are  closely  akin  to  it. 

It  would  be  of  little  avail  to  speak  of  all  the  minute 
detail,  of  which  there  is  a  tremendous  amount  in  each 
and  every  one  of  these  offices  and  sections  of  the  medical 
service.  The  methods  of  filing  correspondence  and 
records  alone  is  wonderful  when  one  thinks  of  the  con- 
ditions and  number  of  men  involved,  and  comparatively 
few  mistakes  are  made.  This  appears  the  more  remark- 
able when  one  has  had  numerous  experiences  with  the 
mistakes  made  in  the  offices  in  England  where  one 
would  think  the  systems  would  have  been  systematized 
long  ago. 

The  medical  service  of  the  British  Army  in 
France  is  a  marvel  of  efficiency  and  one  that  the  nation 
can  well  afford  to  be  proud  of. 


133 


CHAPTER  X. 

KEEPING  THE  BRITISH  SOLDIER  FIT. 

THE  history  of  war  has  always  been  a  history  of 
epidemics.  The  fact  that  in  an  army  men  are 
crowded  together  makes  it  easy  for  all  communicable 
diseases,  once  introduced,  to  spread  with  great  rapidity. 
And  because  soldiers  are  always  associated  with  the 
civilian  population,  it  means  that  such  diseases  are 
readily  communicated  from  the  army  to  the  civilians, 
and  from  the  civilians  to  the  army.  It  is  therefore 
apparent  that  during  a  war,  disease,  unless  quickly 
checked,  may  run  like  wild  fire  through  a  country,  and 
be  disseminated  far  and  wide  by  soldiers  returning  to 
and  from  their  own  homes,  or  other  distant  places  while 
on  leave. 

Advances  made  in  our  knowledge  of  how  diseases 
are  spread  and  controlled,  particularly  through  recent 
studies  in  bacteriology  and  immunity,  have  made  it 
possible  to  keep  communicable  diseases  in  absolute  sub- 
jection. The  marvel  of  the  age  is  the  lack  of  epidemic 
disease  in  the  army  to-day.  This  is  particularly  strik- 
ing in  view  of  our  experiences  in  other  recent  wars.  In 
the  Franco-Prussian  war  of  1870,  for  instance,  small- 
pox was  fanned  into  a  great  flame,  and  there  resulted  the 
largest  smallpox  epidemic  in  80  years.  It  is  interesting 
to  note  that  the  medical  authorities  in  Paris,  in  the  first 
year  and  a  half  of  the  present  war,  vaccinated  over  25,- 


134 


KEEPING  THE  BRITISH  SOLDIER  FIT 

000  strangers  passing  through  Paris ;  they  are  taking  no 
chances  with  another  outbreak  of  smallpox. 

In  the  Boer  War  the  British  losses  through  typhoid 
fever  alone  were  8,000  against  7,700  killed  by  bullets, 
shells  and  other  agencies. 

The  British  army  of  nearly  five  million  men  in 
France  and  England  to-day,  has  so  little  typhoid  that 
it  is  practically  a  negligible  quantity,  and  this  holds 
with  other  communicable  diseases.  There  must  be 
some  basic  reason  for  this  freedom  from  contagious 
diseases,  for  we  know  that  such  freedom  does  not  come 
by  accident. 

No  attempt  will  be  made  to  deal  with  those  auxil- 
iary forces  employed  to  keep  the  men  physically  and 
mentally  fit.  Such  things  as  the  provision  of  an  ade- 
quate and  wholesome  food  supply;  proper  clothing; 
amusements,  such  as  games,  competitions,  horse  shows, 
cinemas,  variety  shows;  and  Y.M.C.A.'s  are  all  an  in- 
tegral part  of  the  machinery  necessary  to  keep  an  army 
in  the  field  well  and  happy. 

Only  an  attempt  will  be  made  to  discuss  the  prin- 
ciples underlying  the  prevention  of  disease  in  use  in  the 
British  army  in  France, — principles  with  which  the 
average  layman  is  comparatively  unacquainted. 

In  the  first  place,  it  is  well  to  realize  that  in  the 
temperate  climate  of  Europe,  the  vast  majority  of  com- 
municable diseases  of  importance  from  the  military 
standpoint  are  contracted  largely  from  three  sources: 

Group  1.  From  throat  and  nose  secretions;  e.g., 
diphtheria,  measles,  etc. 

Group  2.  From  biting  insects;  e.g.,  malaria, 
typhus  fever,  plague,  etc.  135 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

Group  3.  Through  intestinal  secretions;  e.g., 
typhoid  fever,  cholera,  dysentery,  etc. 

The  first  group,  which  includes  practically  all  the 
ordinary  diseases  like  measles,  mumps,  whooping 
cough,  influenza,  colds,  pneumonia,  scarlet  fever,  diph- 
theria, etc.,  is  conveyed  in  most  cases  by  one  infected 
person  transmitting  directly  to  another  person,— 
through  coughing,  spitting  or  sneezing, — germs  present 
in  the  nose  and  mouth  secretions. 

The  second  group  is  conveyed  by  insects  biting 
people  or  animals  infected  with  the  disease,  and  sub- 
sequently biting  people  who  are  healthy.  In  this  way 
the  disease-producing  organism  is  introduced  into  the 
body  of  the  healthy  person,  and  beginning  to  multiply, 
brings  about  the  symptoms  of  the  disease.  Malaria 
is  transmitted  in  this  way  by  the  anopheles  mos- 
quito; typhus  fever  by  lice,  and  plague  by  the  rat 
flea.  These  are  all  diseases  greatly  to  be  dreaded  in  the 
army. 

The  third  group,  including  typhoid  and  paraty- 
phoid fevers,  cholera,  and  dysentery,  all  of  which  are 
intestinal  diseases,  is  large.ly  conveyed  from  the  sick  to 
the  well  indirectly  through  contaminated  water  and 
food.  To  develop  one  of  these  diseases  means  that  the 
excreta  of  somebody  who  has  the  disease  or  who  has 
had  it,  has  been  taken  into  the  mouth  and  swallowed, 
and  the  germs  finding  a  favorable  medium  in  the  intes- 
tines have  multiplied  and  produced  the  typical  symp- 
toms. One  of  the  chief  ways  in  which  this  type  of  infec- 
tion occurs  is  through  drinking  sewage-contaminated 
water  or  milk;  another  is  through  contamination  of 

136 


KEEPING  THE  BRITISH  SOLDIER  FIT 

food  by  the  hands  of  the  person  excreting  the  germs; 
and  the  third  is  through  the  contamination  of  the  food 
or  eating  utensils  by  flies  and  other  insects  which  carry 
filth  germs  from  place  to  place  on  their  feet  and  bodies. 

With  these  facts  in  mind  and  with  some  knowledge 
of  sanitation  and  medicine  it  is  easy  to  see  how  most 
epidemic  diseases  can  be  held  in  check.  Put  briefly, 
it  means  that  the  sanitary  organization  must  be  such 
that  the  germs  from  one  infected  soldier  are  prevented 
from  reaching  another,  or  as  is  sometimes  said,  some 
link  in  the  chain  of  circumstances  whereby  disease 
germs  can  pass  from  one  to  another,  must  be  broken. 

The  methods  employed  to  break  these  links  are 
simple;  the  carrying  out  of  the  methods  is  oftentimes 
very  difficult. 

It  is  obviously  essential  in  the  first  place  to  remove 
from  the  army,  at  the  earliest  possible  moment  after  it 
has  been  diagnosed,  every  case  of  communicable  disease. 
This  means  the  adoption  of  measures  for  picking  out 
soldiers  who  show  symptoms  of  disease,  which  really 
comes  down  to  the  fact  that  the  medical  officers  must 
always  be  on  the  alert  and  carry  out  the  instructions  of 
the  director  of  medical  services  of  the  army  with  des- 
patch. In  the  British  Army  this  is  one  of  the  most  im- 
portant features  in  the  control  of  epidemics.  If  a  man 
is  suspected  of  having  any  communicable  disease  he  is  in- 
stantly placed  under  quarantine  until  the  diagnosis  has 
been  confirmed,  after  which  he  is  removed  from  the 
army  area  altogether  as  a  possible  focus  of  infection. 
The  British  Army  takes  no  chances,  and  its  wonderful 


137 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

record  of  freedom  from  contagious  disease  proves  that 
it  has  been  absolutely  sound  in  its  technique. 

This  is  practically  the  only  way  of  eliminating 
diseases,  such  as  measles  and  scarlet  fever  which  can- 
not be  diagnosed  by  bacteriological  methods,  but  of 
course  the  procedure  is  employed  in  all  other  kinds  of 
epidemic  disease  as  well. 

Great  Britain  has  been  fortunate  above  all  other 
nations  in  this  respect  that  she  sent  over  at  first  a  small 
army  of  regular  troops,  perfectly  equipped  from  the 
medical  standpoint  as  well  as  in  every  other  way.  Ef- 
forts had  been  made  for  years  to  remove  typhoid 
carriers  from  the  regular  army,  and  naturally  no  soldier 
was  sent  into  the  field  who  was  known  to  have  typhoid, 
or  to  be  a  carrier  of  typhoid  or  any  other  contagious 
disease  germs.  Furthermore,  the  soldiers  had  practi- 
cally all  been  vaccinated  against  smallpox  and  inocu- 
lated against  typhoid  fever. 

As  division  after  division  was  sent  out  to  the  army 
in  France,  they  too  were  completely  equipped  with 
sanitary  squads,  casualty  clearing  stations,  field  am- 
bulances, water  carts,  and  other  necessary  medical 
equipment.  Consequently  as  the  army  grew  and  ex- 
panded into  a  huge  force  it  was  thoroughly  equipped 
not  only  with  the  necessary  apparatus  for  caring  for 
sick  and  wounded,  but  also  with  the  experience  acquired 
by  those  already  in  the  field.  In  this  way  the  British 
Army  differed  from  all  of  our  European  Allies  who 
had  been  compelled  to  mobilize  everything  at  once  and 
found  themselves  woefully  lacking  in  medical  equip- 
ment and  personnel,  so  much  so  in  fact  that  they  had 

138 


KEEPING  THE  BRITISH  SOLDIER  FIT 

been  in  the  beginning  unable  to  handle  all  epidemics 
successfully. 

With  a  realization  that  the  medical  equipment  of 
the  British  Army  was  complete;  that  it  had  been  sent 
into  the  field  free  of  communicable  diseases;  that  it 
had  been  vaccinated  and  inoculated  against  two  of  the 
most  dreaded  diseases,  smallpox  and  typhoid  fever, 
and  that  every  reinforcement  subsequently  sent  out  had 
been  carefully  freed  from  suspicious  cases  of  disease, 
it  can  be  readily  understood  that  the  British  Army 
began  under  auspicious  circumstances,  and  that  there- 
after its  freedom  from  contagious  disease  depended  to 
a  great  extent  on  the  preventive  measures  adopted. 

It  is  impossible,  however,  to  prevent  our  soldiers 
billeted  in  France  from  occasionally  contracting  com- 
municable diseases  from  the  French  civilian  popula- 
tion, and  it  is  obvious  that  as  there  were  from  3  to  5 
per  cent,  of  the  soldiers  uninoculated  against  typhoid 
fever,  we  would  get  some  cases  of  typhoid  fever. 

Besides  this,  unless  further  precautions  were  taken, 
the  army  would  be  susceptible  to  disease  such  as 
cholera,  dysentery  and  the  like  should  there  be  cases  of 
these  in  the  war  zone. 

We  therefore  arrive  at  the  conclusion  that,  as  there 
might  be  some  "carriers"  and  undiagnosed  cases  of 
disease  among  soldiers  and  civilians  excreting  disease 
germs,  additional  means  must  be  adopted  to  destroy 
such  germs  before  they  could  reach  other  soldiers.  This 
is  the  place  where  sanitation  and  hygiene  steps  in,  and 
it  is  in  these  matters  that  the  army  of  Great  Britain  is 
unexcelled  by  any  army  in  the  field  to-day. 

139 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

Since  the  group  of  intestinal  diseases  can  originate 
only  from  the  excretions  of  people  who  are  giving  off 
the  specific  germs,  it  would  be  logical  to  endeavour  to 
destroy  such  excreta  or  render  it  incapable  of  contamin- 
ating water  or  food.  This  is  done.  All  excreta  behind 
the  front  line  and  reserve  trenches  is  destroyed  in 
numerous  incinerators,  which  are  kept  burning  night 
and  day.  The  British  Army  is  the  only  army  which 
has  succeeded  in  doing  this.  All  excreta  which  cannot 
be  burned  is  buried  so  that  it  cannot  be  reached  by  flies. 

As  it  may  happen  through  accident  or  carelessness 
that  water  supplies  have  been  contaminated,  it  is  the 
rule  to  sterilize  all  water  used  for  drinking  purposes, 
either  by  boiling,  by  the  use  of  bisulphate  of  soda,  or 
by  chlorine.  The  chlorine  method  is  the  one  in  general 
use  in  the  British  Army,  as  it  is  in  all  of  the  other  allied 
armies. 

The  possibility  of  using  chlorine  in  the  field  was 
brought  to  the  attention  of  the  British  Army  authorities 
by  the  publication  of  a  method  evolved  by  the  writer 
in  1909.  According  to  this  method  a  stock  solution  of 
hypochlorite  of  lime  was  added  to  the  water,  the  amount 
necessary  for  any  given  water  being  determined  by  a 
solution  of  potassium  iodide  and  starch.  This  was  par- 
ticularly useful  in  the  trenches  where  it  was  possible  to 
accurately  sterilize  a  pail  or  a  barrel  of  water  if  neces- 
sary. Small  tablets  of  hypochlorite  of  lime,  each  one 
sufficient  to  sterilize  a  pail  of  water,  were  also  ordered 
and  issued  to  the  first  Canadian  division,  and  proved 
useful. 

The  great  bulk  of  the  water  supply,  however,  is 

140 


KEEPING  THE  BRITISH  SOLDIER  FIT 

sterilized  directly  in  the  water  carts  by  adding  one  or 
two  spoonfuls  of  the  dry  chloride  of  lime  to  the  partly 
filled  water  cart,  the  mixing  being  done  by  the  addition 
of  the  rest  of  the  water  and  by  agitation  during  the  trip 
back  to  the  place  where  the  cart  is  stationed. 

In  addition  to  this,  large  mobile  filter  units,  after 
a  plan  draughted  in  September,  1914,  and  officially 
suggested  by  the  writer  in  1915  after  experience  in  the 
field,  were  built  and  issued  to  all  the  British  armies. 
These  mobile  filters  are  capable  of  filtering  and  ster- 
ilizing large  quantities  of  water  and  delivering  it  to 
water  carts  or  into  stand  pipes,  ready  to  drink.  A  check 
is  kept  on  the  efficiency  of  the  filtration  and  sterilization 
by  mobile  field  laboratories. 

Standing  orders  forbid  the  use  of  unboiled  milk 
in  the  army  as  well  as  fresh  uncooked  vegetables,  so 
that  there  is  little  danger  from  these  sources.  When 
ones  sees  the  peasants  watering  their  vegetables  with 
sewage,  the  reason  for  such  regulations  are  apparent. 

As  it  is  possible  for  flies  to  carry  typhoid  bacilli 
and  other  disease  germs  from  excreta  to  food,  a  con- 
stant war  is  waged  against  these  filthy  insects.  Flies 
breed  chiefly  in  manure,  and  one  fly  will  produce  many 
millions  of  flies  in  the  course  of  one  summer.  The  ob- 
vious method  of  keeping  down  flies  is  to  destroy  their 
breeding  places,  and  therefore  it  is  the  duty  of  every- 
body concerned  to  see  that  all  manure  piles  in  the  army 
area  are  gotten  rid  of.  Some  of  it  is  burned,  some 
spread  on  the  fields,  some  buried,  and  so  forth.  On 
the  other  hand  food  is  screened  from  flies  whenever 
possible,  and  privy  pits  made  inaccessible  to  them  by 

141 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

the  same  means.  On  the  whole  the  house  fly  has  not 
yet,  in  so  far  as  we  know,  played  any  great  part  in  caus- 
ing epidemic  disease  in  the  British  Army  in  France,  be- 
cause so  many  of  the  precautions  outlined  have  been 
carried  out 

By  getting  rid  of  cases  of  intestinal  disease,  and 
"carriers"  of  intestinal  disease,  destruction  of  excreta 
and  garbage,  screening  of  food,  destruction  of  breeding 
places  of  flies,  sterilization  of  drinking  water,  boiling 
of  milk  and  vegetables,  and  in  the  case  of  typhoid 
and  paratyphoid  fevers,  inoculation,  the  chances  of  in- 
testinal disease  germs  getting  through  from  one  person 
to  another  are  comparatively  small,  as  the  results  would 
indicate. 

To  show  that  these  results  are  not  due  to  accident 
an  example  will  demonstrate :  Early  in  the  war  when 
the  British  took  over  from  the  French  a  section  of  the 
line  in  the  Ypres  salient,  the  Belgian  population  in 
the  little  village  of  Vlamertinge  and  neighborhood  was 
being  devastated  with  typhoid  fever,  and  the  French 
troops  also  had  a  great  many  cases.  When  the  British 
troops  took  over  the  line  they  not  only  escaped  getting 
typhoid  fever  themselves,  but  they  succeeded  in  abso- 
lutely stamping  it  out  among  the  civilian  population, 
and  in  getting  rid  of  any  "carriers"  of  the  disease. 

The  cases  were  discovered  by  a  house-to-house  in- 
vestigation by  "The  Friends'  Search  Party" — a  group 
of  Quakers  who  had  conscientious  scruples  against 
bloodshed.  This  search  party  notified  the  medical 
authorities,  particularly  the  laboratory  in  the  area,  of 
any  doubtful  cases,  and  the  diagnosis  was  then  made 

142 


KEEPING  THE  BRITISH  SOLDIER  FIT 

by  laboratory  methods.  In  the  last  six  months  of  my 
stay  in  France,  near  the  Belgian  border,  I  do  not  think 
that  the  Friends'  search  party  unearthed  a  single  case 
of  typhoid,  and  as  a  matter  of  fact  few  cases  of  the 
ordinary  epidemic  diseases  such  as  measles  or  diph- 
theria were  discovered,  although  they  continued  to  make 
house  to  house  investigations  and  report  to  us  regularly. 

The  insect-borne  diseases  in  the  Western  Europe 
war  zone  are,  as  far  as  we  know,  carried  by  flies,  lice 
and  mosquitoes.  Flies  carry  disease  germs  more  or  less 
mechanically,  and  are  controlled  by  the  methods  out- 
lined above. 

Mosquitoes  are  responsible  for  transmitting  ma- 
laria and  yellow  fever,  though  the  latter  never  occurs 
in  Europe.  Malaria  in  France  is  also  comparatively 
unknown,  though  we  found  the  Anopheles  mosquito 
which  is  responsible  for  transmitting  the  disease  else- 
where. 

There  were  also  numerous  cases  of  malaria  recur- 
ring in  soldiers  from  India,  Egypt,  and  other  hot  coun- 
tries, so  that  we  had  both  the  infected  individual  with 
the  malaria  parasites  in  his  blood,  and  the  mosquito 
which  was  capable  of  carrying  the  organisms.  Yet  in 
1915  we  had  only  a  dozen  cases  of  malaria  develop  in 
men  who  had  never  been  out  of  England,  and  were 
therefore,  presumably,  infected  in  France. 

Possibly  the  chief  reason  for  this  was  due  to  the 
fact  that  after  the  mosquito  has  sucked  the  blood  of  an 
individual  infected  with  malaria,  and  been  infected 
with  the  malaria  parasite,  the  weather  was  not  warm 
enough  for  the  parasite  to  undergo  its  necessary  trans- 

143 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

formation  in  the  blood  of  the  mosquito.  A  continuous 
warm  period  of  several  days'  duration  is  necessary  for 
this  purpose,  and  in  France  these  time  periods  never 
occurred  of  sufficient  duration.  Here  was  a  climatic 
feature  which  proved  to  be  of  very  great  importance 
in  preventing  the  spread  of  a  disease  most  inimical 
to  the  health  of  any  army. 

Here  again,  any  cases  of  malaria  developing  were 
removed  as  rapidly  as  diagnosed,  so  that  mosquitoes  did 
not  have  much  opportunity  of  becoming  infected. 

Typhus  fever  is  one  of  the  most  dreaded  diseases 
in  the  army,  for  it  is  highly  fatal,  and  both  in  former 
wars  and  in  the  recent  Serbian  campaign  has  proved 
a  terrible  scourge.  It  is  quite  a  different  disease  from 
typhoid  fever,  and  is  conveyed  from  man  to  man  solely 
through  lice.  In  other  words,  the  phrase  "No  lice,  no 
typhus"  is  scientifically  true. 

Every  army  in  the  field  is  a  lousy  army,  and  every 
soldier  in  a  fighting  unit  is  more  or  less  lousy.  The 
louse  commonly  present  is  the  body  louse,  and  it  lays  its 
eggs  in  the  seams  of  the  uniforms  and  on  the  under- 
clothes. The  eggs  hatch  out  quickly  so  that  when  a 
man  once  becomes  infected  the  lice  multiply  with  great 
rapidity. 

For  typhus  to  get  a  grip  on  an  army  means  that 
there  must  be  at  least  one  case  of  the  disease,  and  there 
must  be  lice  on  the  case.  Some  of  these  lice  will  fall 
off,  wander  away,  or  be  left  on  the  bedding,  in  the  straw, 
or  in  the  patient's  discarded  clothes.  If  these  lice  have 
bitten  the  typhus  patient  and  thereby  been  infected,  it 
seemes  to  be  necessary  for  a  certain  length  of  time  to 

144 


KEEPING  THE  BRITISH  SOLDIER  FIT 

elapse  for  the  organism  to  develop  in  the  body  of  the 
lice  before  they  are  able  to  introduce  the  virus  into  un- 
infected  individuals  by  biting  them. 

As  yet  there  have  been  no  cases  of  typhus  fever 
in  the  British  Army  in  France,  though  it  has  occurred 
to  a  greater  or  less  extent  in  Germany,  Austria,  Russia 
and  Serbia.  The  quarantine  services  at  the  ports  of 
the  countries  bordering  on  the  Mediterranean  have  pre- 
vented it  spreading  to  any  other  country. 

Typhus  fever  is  known  as  a  dirt  disease,  and  its 
control  is  possible  through  the  plentiful  use  of  soap  and 
water.  The  most  difficult  thing  for  a  soldier  to  obtain 
in  the  field  is  a  bath.  Normally  he  is  in  the  front  line 
trenches  for  a  week,  in  the  reserve  trenches  for  a  week, 
and  in  rest  for  a  week.  This  means  that  he  cannot  get 
a  bath  for  at  least  two  weeks,  and  he  doesn't.  So  that 
though  a  soldier  goes  back  into  the  trenches  clean  and 
free  from  vermin  he  is  sure  to  become  reinfected  from 
lice  left  in  the  dugouts ;  or  some  lice  eggs  on  his  clothes 
perhaps  have  escaped  destruction,  and  he  may  be  as 
lousy  as  ever  when  he  comes  out  of  the  trenches  again. 
The  old  straw  in  the  barns  and  the  billets  is  sure  to  be  in- 
fected with  lice,  and  it  is  very  difficult  to  sterilize  the 
men's  blankets.  Consequently  a  persistent  contin- 
uous fight  against  this  variety  of  vermin  must  be  kept 
up,  for  lice  are  not  only  a  potential  source  of  danger 
in  transmitting  typhus  fever  and  relapsing  fever,  but 
they  are  a  great  source  of  irritation  to  the  men  and 
responsible  for  much  loss  of  sleep. 

The  greatest  luxury  at  the  front  is  a  hot  bath,  and 
these  are  provided  in  every  divisional  area  on  the  Bri- 

145 
11 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

tish  front.  Three  or  four  miles  behind  the  trenches  in 
the  rest  areas,  in  places  where  a  plentiful  supply  of 
water  can  be  obtained,  the  army  has  established  bath 
houses.  Sometimes  a  brewery,  or  part  of  it,  has  been 
taken  over  for  this  purpose,  because  the  breweries  all 
have  deep  wells  from  which  a  plentiful  supply  of  water 
can  be  obtained.  If  the  bath  house  is  in  a  brewery  they 
may  utilize  the  large  beer  barrels  cut  in  two  for  baths. 
These  are  filled  with  cold  water  and  live  steam  turned 
into  the  water  to  warm  it.  After  the  bath  the  men  dump 
the  barrels,  which  are  immediately  refilled  by  attend- 
ants, for  the  next  group. 

Most  of  the  bath  houses,  however,  are  in  impro- 
vised shacks  built  upon  the  edge  of  creeks  or  ponds. 
The  water  is  pumped  into  an  elevated  reservoir  and 
heated  frequently  by  means  of  a  threshing  machine 
boiler,  rented  or  purchased  from  some  neighboring 
farmer.  One  section  of  the  shack  is  divided  off  for  a 
bathroom  with  a  number  of  showers  and  the  other 
rooms  devoted  to  the  receiving  of  dirty  clothing,  stor- 
ing the  clean  clothing,  washing,  drying  and  sterilizing. 

As  you  pass  along  the  road  you  will  see  perhaps  a 
platoon  or  a  section  of  a  platoon  marching  to  the  bath 
house,  without  belt  or  equipment,  and  carrying  towels. 
At  the  bath  house  a  certain  number,  say  twenty  men, 
pass  into  the  first  room  where  they  undress.  Their 
underclothes  and  shirts  are  thrown  to  one  side  to  be 
washed ;  their  caps  and  boots  are  not  treated  in  any  way. 
The  uniforms  are  hung  on  numbered  racks  and  placed 
in  the  disinfection  chamber  where  they  are  immediately 
treated  with  live  steam,  or  they  are  taken  into  an  adjoin- 

146 


KEEPING  THE  BRITISH  SOLDIER  FIT 

ing  room  where  the  seams  are  ironed  with  hot  irons  to 
destroy  lice  and  eggs. 

The  men  then  pass  on  into  the  bathroom  where 
they  are  given  about  ten  minutes  to  luxuriate  with  plenty 
of  soap  and  hot  water.  As  they  pass  out  of  the  bath 
through  another  room  they  are  given  clean  socks,  under- 
clothes and  shirts,  and  by  the  time  they  are  dressed  their 
own  uniforms,  disinfected,  are  handed  back  to  them. 
The  whole  operation  takes  from  twenty-five  to  thirty 
minutes,  and  from  a  thousand  to  fifteen  hundred  men 
can  be  put  through  each  bath  house  in  a  day. 

The  discarded  clothes  are  washed  by  local  peasant 
women  paid  by  the  army;  in  one  of  these  establishments 
in  our  area  there  were  160  Belgian  peasant  women 
engaged  in  this  work.  Mending  is  also  done  by  them, 
while  socks  and  clothes  too  far  gone  to  be  mended  are 
packed  in  bundles  and  sent  away  to  be  sold. 

The  waste  wash  water  from  the  baths  and  laundries 
entering  the  creeks  naturally  causes  trouble  from  troops 
down  stream  who  may  have  to  use  it.  Horses  will  not 
touch  soapy  water,  and  the  brewers  object  to  making 
beer  with  it;  they  say  it  spoils  the  beer. 

Consequently  the  sanitary  officers  have  in  many 
cases  been  compelled  to  put  in  tanks  to  treat  this  dirty 
water  and  purify  it.  This  is  usually  done  by  adding  an 
excess  of  chloride  of  lime,  which  precipitates  the  soap 
as  a  curd  and  carries  the  dirt  down  with  it.  By  sedi- 
mentaton,  and  filtration  through  canvas,  cinders  and 
sand,  the  water  is  clarified  and  turned  into  the  creeks 
again  clean.  So  completely  can  this  be  accomplished 
that  the  experience  at  one  bath  house  is  worth  narrating. 

147 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

This  bath  house  was  built  on  a  little  pond  which 
accumulated  in  winter  and  was  not  fed  by  springs  or 
any  other  auxiliary  source  of  supply;  consequently  with 
the  advent  of  warm  weather  it  would  have  dried  up 
unless  the  water  had  been  conserved  in  some  way. 

The  sanitary  officer  in  charge  was  equal  to  the  task. 
With  the  advice  of  engineers  and  the  laboratory  he 
built  a  plant  which  subsequently  worked  to  perfection. 
The  water  used  to  bath  at  least  a  thousand  men  a  day, 
as  well  as  the  wash  water  from  the  laundry  attached 
to  the  bath  house,  was  collected  and  treated  with  acid 
to  remove  the  soap;  the  scum  formed  carried  to  the 
top  all  of  the  dirt,  which  was  then  filtered  off  by  means 
of  sacking,  cinders,  and  sand.  The  excess  of  acid  was 
treated  with  lime  which  neutralized  it,  and  the  excess 
of  lime  was  removed  by  soda.  The  water  was  all  filtered 
before  it  was  returned  to  the  pond  into  which  it  flowed 
just  as  clear  as  it  had  been  before,  and  with  enough 
hardness  present  to  give  it  a  lather  with  soap. 

The  system  was  operated  during  the  whole  summer 
and  gave  complete  satisfaction.  It  really  did  what 
nature  would  have  done  in  a  much  longer  time  and  with 
a  much  bigger  plant.  Had  the  pond  been  used  to  bathe 
in  direct  it  would  have  been  unfit  for  use  in  the  course  of 
a  few  days,  whereas  by  the  method  employed  it  was 
always  perfectly  sweet  and  clean. 

The  common  sense  and  resourcefulness  of  the  Bri- 
tish sanitary  officer  is  well  shown  by  this  solution  of 
a  difficult  and  apparently  hopeless  problem.  It  is 
indeed  a  difficult  problem  which  a  British  officer  will 
acknowledge  to  be  hopeless,  and  it  is  this  very  British 

148 


KEEPING  THE  BRITISH  SOLDIER  Fit 

quality  that  the  Hun  should  always  keep  in  mind  in 
thinking  of  the  end  of  the  war  and  the  reckoning  after- 
wards. 

As  far  as  we  know  there  has  been  no  plague  among 
the  warring  armies  in  Europe.  Plague  is  conveyed  from 
rats  having  this  disease  to  human  beings  by  means  of 
rat  fleas.  These  fleas  become  infected  by  biting  the  in- 
fected rats  and  subsequently  infect  human  beings  by  bit- 
ing them.  There1  are  plenty  of  rats  in  the  trenches  and 
dugouts,  particularly  in  winter;  in  the  summer  they 
breed  along  the  water  courses,  and  in  the  autumn  are 
attracted  to  the  trenches  where  there  is  plenty  of  waste 
food  to  be  had. 

Numerous  devices  are  used  to  destroy  them,  and  it 
is  a  common  thing  to  see  a  soldier  sitting  patiently 
in  the  trenches  with  his  rifle  between  his  knees  and  a 
piece  of  toasted  cheese  on  the  end  of  his  bayonet.  As 
Mr.  Rat,  attracted  by  the  savoury  odour,  approaches 
and  takes  the  first  sniff,  the  trigger  is  pulled  and  there 
is  one  living  rat  less.  Prizes  are  sometimes  given  to  the 
man  who  can  kill  the  largest  number  in  a  week,  and  bags 
of  25  and  30  are  not  uncommon.  Sometimes  poison  is 
used,  and  even  ferrets  have  been  employed  with,  how- 
ever, little  success. 

In  connection  with  the  rat  problem,  we  had  an 
illustration  of  how  impossible  it  is  even  for  a  rat  to 
escape  the  British  army  system.  Army  routine,  the  re- 
sult of  many  years  of  experience,  once  put  into  opera- 
tion is  as  sure  and  certain  as  death  and  taxation. 

The  regulations  are  that  if  any  considerable  num- 
ber of  rats  have  been  noticed  around  the  trenches  sick 

149 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

or  dying,  some  of  them  shall  be  sent  to  the  field  labora- 
tories for  examination.  Bubonic  plague  is  a  rat  disease ; 
consequently  if  rats  are  dying  in  any  great  numbers, 
we  would  conclude  that  some  disease,  possibly  plague, 
must  be  the  cause. 

In  this  case  the  Director  of  Medical  Services  of 
the  army  had  been  notified  that  a  rat  had  been  de- 
spatched to  a  laboratory  for  examination.  Consequently 
he  was  anxious  to  know  the  result  of  the  examination, 
and  when  a  report  was  not  forthcoming  he  sent  a  tele- 
gram to  the  officer  commanding  the  Canadian  labora- 
tory asking  that  a  report  on  the  rat  be  forwarded  at 
once.  As  we  had  not  received  the  rat  we  reported  the 
same  to  the  D.M.S.  who  put  the  matter  up  to  the 
D.D.M.S.  of  the  corps  who  had  forwarded  the  rat.  The, 
rat  had  gone  to  another  laboratory,  and  "the  system" 
to  locate  the  rat  was  put  into  operation. 

The  following  is  the  correspondence  upon  the  sub- 
ject: 

1.  To  D.D.MS.  J.  Corps. 

In  accordance  with  your  lw/ER/  16of  1/2/3.  a  rat  is 
being  sent   from   trench   x.y.z.   to   No.    1   mobile  laboratory 

at  . 

(Signed)   A.D.M.S.  K.Div. 

2.  To  O.C.  No.  1  Mobile  Laboratory. 

Please  let  me  know  the  result  of  your  examination  of 
this  rat. 

(Signed)  D.M.S.  Z  Army. 

3.  D.M.S.  Z  Army. 

I  have  not  received  this  rat. 

(Signed)  O.C.  No.  1  Mobile  Lab'y. 

ISO 


KEEPING  THE  BRITISH  SOLDIER  FIT 

4.  To  D.D.MS.  J. Corps. 

With  reference  to  attached,  will  you  please  say  what  has 
become  of  this  rat. 

(Signed)  D.M.S.  Z  Army. 

5.  To  D.M.S.  Z  Army. 

It  has  been  sent  to  Canadian  laboratory  and  report  has 
been  called  for. 

(Signed)  D.D.M.S.  J.  Corps. 

6.  To  O.C.  (Canadian)  Mobile  Laboratory. 

Will  you  please  let  me  know  the  result  of  your  examina- 
tion of  this  rat. 

(Signed)  D.M.S.  Z  Army. 

7.  To  D.MS.  Z  Army. 

This  rat  was  quite  normal  and  had  evidently  been  killed 
by  a  blow.  The  report  was  forwarded  to  A. D.M.S.  K. 
Div. 

(Signed)  O.C.  No.  5  (Can.)  Mobile  Lab. 

Even  a  partly  decomposed  rat  was  unable  to  escape 
the  army  system. 


151 


CHAPTER  XL 
k 

LABORATORY  WORK  IN  THE  FIELD. 

WITH  the  medical  organization  of  the  army  in 
mind  it  may  be  seen  that  a  small  mobile  labora- 
tory might  be  of  great  practical  service  to  the  army  in 
the  field.  Under  the  conditions  which  exist  in  the  pre- 
sent war,  the  army  itself  is  not  very  mobile,  nor  is  it 
necessary  for  the  laboratory  to  be,  but  it  is  of  great  im- 
portance to  have  a  car  which  will  permit  of  the  area 
being  covered  quickly  should  a  specimen,  sample  or 
investigation  be  required.  The  car  is  the  really  essential 
mobile  part  of  the  unit. 

Our  laboratory  had  charge  of  both  the  bacteri- 
ological and  hygiene  work  of  a  given  area;  it  was  the 
only  laboratory  that  did  both  types  of  work.  When 
our  apparatus  had  been  unpacked  and  set  up  in  the 
old  ball  room  of  the  Hotel  de  Ville  it  made  quite  an 
imposing  show,  and  after  we  saw  what  equipment  the 
other  laboratories  had  we  were  decidedly  proud  of  ours. 

Our  first  bit  of  work  proved  to  be  the  examination 
of  a  number  of  soldiers  who  had  been  in  contact  with 
a  case  of  cerebro-spinal  meningitis,  to  detect  "carriers" 
of  the  specific  germ.  Then  material  of  all  sorts  began 
to  come  in  for  examination  from  the  casualty  clearing 
stations,  field  ambulances,  sanitary  and  medical  offi- 
cers, rest  stations  and  other  places.  Most  of  the  rou- 
tine bacteriological  work  proved  to  be  of  much  the  same 
nature  as  that  done  in  a  health  laboratory  at  home,  and 

152 


LABORATORY  WORK  IN  THE  FIELD 

consisted  of  examinations  to  detect  some  of  the  ordinary 
communicable  diseases  such  as  diphtheria,  cerebro- 
spinal  meningitis,  typhoid  fever,  malaria,  dysentery, 
tuberculosis,  and  venereal  diseases. 

Should  a  case  of  diphtheria,  for  example,  be  found 
in  a  soldier,  all  his  immediate  friends  and  companions 
with  whom  he  had  been  in  contact,  would  be  swabbed 
to  see  whether  they  were  infected.  Those  found  to 
be  infected  would  be  removed  from  the  army  at  once. 

In  a  case  of  suspected  typhoid  fever  the  examina- 
tion of  serum,  blood  and  excreta  would  be  necessary  to 
determine  whether  the  case  were  really  typhoid  or  not. 
If  found  to  be  typhoid  the  laboratory  would  be  called 
upon  to  try  to  discover  the  source  of  the  infection.  The 
same  general  methods  hold  good  in  other  epidemic 
diseases  where  the  laboratory  is  capable  of  making  the 
diagnosis,  to  see  whether  any  danger  lurks  in  "contacts" 
or  "carriers"  and  to  find  the  source  of  the  infection 
where  possible. 

Very  frequently  material  from  wounds  is  sent  in 
by  the  hospital  surgeons  to  see  whether  wounds  are  in- 
fected. The  soil  of  Flanders  has  been  liberally  man- 
ured for  hundreds  of  years,  and  in  every  cubic  yard  of 
this  manured  soil  are  millions  of  the  germs  which  cause 
gas  gangrene  and  tetanus  (lock-jaw)  when  intro- 
duced beneath  the  skin.  If  a  wound  is  infected  with 
gas  gangrene  or  other  dangerous  organisms,  the  know- 
ledge that  they  are  present  may  materially  modify  the 
treatment  used  by  the  surgeon,  and  the  laboratory  is 
of  value  to  him  sometimes  in  determining  that  point. 

The  usual  routine  work  of  a  hospital  clinical 

153 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

laboratory  was  also  carried  on  by  us  for  the  casualty 
clearing  stations  in  the  area,  and  all  kinds  of  work 
from  the  making  of  a  vaccine  for  the  treatment  of 
bronchitis  in  a  British  General  to  the  inoculation  of  a 
civilian  child  with  anti-meningitis  serum  came  within 
our  scope. 

The  hygiene  work  of  the  laboratory  is  also  of  a 
varied  character:  It  consists  of  the  examination  of 
water  supplies,  milk  and  foods;  the  detection  of  poisons 
in  water,  and,  occasionally,  in  human  beings ;  the  evol- 
ving of  methods  to  purify  effluents  discharged  into 
streams ;  work  on  poison  gases  and  methods  used  to  com- 
bat these,  and  many  other  things. 

In  each  division  there  are  some  sixty  water  carts, 
each  of  which  holds  about  110  gallons.  We  attempted 
to  get  samples  from  all  of  these  in  turn,  to  see  whether 
the  water  had  been  disinfected.  As  all  the  sources  of 
water  supply  in  Flanders,  with  few  exceptions,  contain 
large  numbers  of  bacteria,  and  as  a  properly  chlorin- 
ated water  contains  very  few  bacteria,  it  is  easy  to  tell 
from  a  couple  of  simple  tests  whether  or  not  the  water 
in  the  carts  has  been  chlorinated. 

As  we  sometimes  had  eight  divisions  in  our  area 
at  one  time,  this  water  control  meant  a  good  deal  of 
work.  The  water  carts  were  usually  to  be  found  at  the 
headquarters  of  the  unit  to  which  they  belonged,  and 
we  quickly  discovered  that  the  way  to  get  the  largest 
number  of  water  samples  in  the  shortest  time  was  to 
travel  by  the  map  up  and  down  the  twisting  narrow 
roads  which  intersected  each  other  as  though  following 
the  trails  of  the  original  inhabitants. 

154 


LABORATORY  WORK  IN  THE  FIELD 

It  must  be  remembered  that  four  or  five  miles  be- 
hind the  front  line  every  farm  house  and  barn  is  in  use 
most  of  the  time  for  billeting  soldiers,  and  that  these 
farm  houses  are  infinitely  more  numerous  than  they  are 
in  America.  Little  villages  and  towns  are  very  frequent 
and  many  of  them  bear  the  same  name  as  other  towns 
and  villages  a  few  miles  apart.  Thus  there  are  at  least 
two  Bailleuls,  two  Givenchys,  two  Neuve  Eglises  and 
so  on.  In  our  quest  of  these  water  carts  we  had  to  search 
the  countryside  diligently  and  we  averaged  a  great 
many  miles  a  day;  we  soon  got  to  know  every  road  and 
almost  every  farm  house  in  our  area. 

When  a  cart  was  found  it  was  necessary  to  get  the 
man  in  charge  of  it — the  water  detail — in  order  to 
obtain  information  as  to  the  source  of  supply,  the 
amount  of  chlorine  used,  whether  there  had  been  com- 
plaints of  taste  and  so  forth.  While  the  information 
was  being  obtained,  officers  of  the  unit  would  often 
come  out  to  see  what  the  trouble  was  and  would  ask 
questions ;  possibly  some  non-coms  and  men  would  also 
gather  about,  and  the  first  thing  we  knew  would  be 
giving,  to  a  very  interested  audience,  a  little  lecture  on 
the  dangers  of  drinking  untreated  water;  their  interest 
would  be  greatly  increased  if  a  bottle  filled  with  the 
water,  to  which  a  couple  of  drops  of  solution  had  been 
added,  turned  bright  blue,  thus  showing  the  presence 
of  the  free  chlorine.  By  such  means  a  good  deal  of 
practical  educational  work  was  done,  and  the  danger 
of  men  drinking  raw  water  thereby  reduced. 

Reports  of  all  samples  were  sent  to  the  A.D.M.S. 
of  the  division  concerned,  who  forwarded  them  to  the 

155 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

medical  officers  of  the  units,  with  more  or  less  caustic 
remarks  should  the  samples  be  bad.  The  M.O.  in  turn 
would  get  after  the  man  in  charge  of  the  water  cart, 
who  usually  had  some  more  or  less  plausible  excuse. 

The  water  details  of  the  first  Canadian  Division 
were  the  best  trained  lot  of  men  we  ever  ran  across. 
The  very  first  day  we  took  samples  from  their  water 
carts  they  were  all  sterile,  and  there  were  no  complaints 
about  taste.  It  was  an  excellent  example  of  what  train- 
ing could  accomplish,  for  they  had  all  been  carefully 
trained  in  their  duties  in  Canada  and  England. 

As  the  water  details  of  any  division  were  constant- 
ly changing,  the  efficiency  of  the  treatment  depended  to 
a  great  extent  on  the  constant  supervision  of  the  pro- 
blem by  the  A.D.M.S.,  medical  and  sanitary  officers. 

We  have  found  divisions  coming  into  our  area  for 
the  first  time  with  only  25  per  cent,  of  their  water  carts 
chlorinated,  whereas  before  they  left  they  would  have 
90  per  cent,  or  more  chlorinated,  and  the  division  thor- 
oughly educated  as  to  the  necessity  for  sterilizing  their 
drinking  water  properly. 

Wells,  springs,  creeks,  and  ponds  used  as  sources 
of  supply  were  also  examined,  and  not  infrequently 
samples  from  "springs,"  encountered  while  digging 
new  trenches,  were  sent  in  to  be  tested.  The  tremendous 
number  of  bacteria  found  in  some  of  these  "spring" 
samples  we  on  several  occasions  reported  as  indicating 
the  presence  of  buried  animal  matter  in  the  immediate 
vicinity  of  the  springs,  and  resulted  in  finding  this  to 
be  correct.  In  one  case  in  which  a  badly  polluted  water 


156 


LABORATORY  WORK  IN  THE  FIELD 

was  so  reported  upon,  the  burial  place  of  some  fifty 
Germans  was  found  only  a  few  feet  away. 

One  suspected  epidemic  of  dysentery  was  a  typical- 
ly water  borne  infection  which  did  not  prove  to  be  the 
real  thing.  Half  of  one  company  was  in  a  front  line 
trench  and  half  in  support.  Part  of  the  one  section 
took  their  drinking  water  from  a  shallow  well  near  at 
hand  without  treating  it,  and  practically  every  one  who 
drank  it,  thirty-one  in  all,  came  down  with  typical 
symptoms  of  dysentery,  while  all  the  others  who  did  not 
drink  it  raw  escaped.  The  well  water  was  found  to  be 
badly  polluted.  The  sick  were  all  quite  well  in  four 
or  five  days,  and  able  to  return  to  the  front  line,  but  it 
proved  to  be  an  excellent  lesson  in  hygiene  to  that  Divi- 
sion. 

A  curious  phenomenon  in  connection  with  the 
army  water  supply  was  noted  that  first  spring  in  Flan- 
ders. The  flat  surface  of  the  country  in  our  area  con- 
sisted of  a  very  tenacious  clay,  and  the  farm  wells  were 
usually  sunk  ten  to  twelve  feet  in  that  clay.  In  the 
months  of  March  and  April,  though  the  fields  were 
water  logged  and  the  ditches  brimming  over,  the  wells 
which  were  being  used  by  the  troops  were  going  dry. 
In  other  words  the  soil  was  almost  impervious  so  that 
once  a  well  had  been  emptied  it  would  not  fill  up  again 
for  days. 

For  this  and  several  other  reasons  we  reported  the 
necessity  for  large  mobile  water  purification  units, 
which  could  take  the  water  from  larger  bodies  of  water 
such  as  ponds,  creeks,  canals  or  rivers,  purify  it,  and  de- 
liver it  filtered  and  sterilized  into  the  water  carts  or 

157 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

tanks.  Such  a  system  was  subsequently  adopted  by  the 
war  office  and  is  now  in  general  use  in  the  British 
Armies. 

One  hot  morning  in  mid  June  we  received  a  tele- 
gram from  the  Surgeon  General  to  investigate  a  water 
supply  complained  of  in  the  Festubert  region.  A  pre- 
monition seized  me  that  I  was  going  to  be  killed,  for 
the  battery  to  be  visited  was  in  a  very  "unhealthy"  spot. 
So  I  made  a  new  will,  and  wrote  a  letter  of  farewell, 
to  be  posted  in  case  of  accident. 

The  battery  was  found  nestling  in  the  midst  of  an 
orchard,  but  the  M.O.  who  knew  all  about  the  water 
supply,  was  not  to  be  found.  Reluctantly  I  accepted 
from  the  Colonel  an  invitation  to  dinner,  for  the  feeling 
was  still  strong  in  me  that  some  danger  was  impending. 
Half-way  through  dinner  there  came  the  well-known 
scream  of  an  approaching  shell,  which  burst  at  the 
other  end  of  the  orchard.  A  second  shell  burst  a  little 
closer;  a  third  came  closer  still,  and  a  fourth  rained 
shrapnel  on  the  roof ;  all  the  others,  with  one  exception, 
fell  short,  and  the  shelling  was  over  for  the  time.  It 
was  just  another  one  of  those  "intuitions." 

While  the  shells  were  flying  we  all  kept  on  eating 
as  if  this  were  a  usual  everyday  accompaniment  to 
lunch,  though  I  noticed  that  they  watched  me  with  as 
much  interest  as  I  eyed  them  during  the  process,  each 
curious  to  know  how  the  other  took  it. 

The  varied  nature  of  laboratory  work  in  the  army 
and  its  practical  applications  may  be  seen  from  the  fol- 
lowing examples: — 

One  day  the  O.C.  of  a  hospital  sent  over  a  pint  of 

158 


LABORATORY  WORK  IN  THE  FIELD 

tea  suspected  of  poisoning  28  out  of  29  men  who  drank 
it.  From  the  history  of  the  affair  we  did  not  believe 
that  this  could  possibly  be  the  cause,  and  after  making 
a  few  rapid  tests  to  exclude  metals,  we  proved  that  the 
tea  was  not  poisonous  by  the  simple,  practical  test  of 
drinking  it,  Major  Rankin  being  the  official  tester. 
This  method  of  making  a  practical  physiological  test 
rather  astonished  the  British  authorities. 

A  German  gas  mask  found  on  the  battle  field  was 
submitted  to  us  to  find  what  chemicals  were  present. 
That  mistakes  were  sometimes  made  by  the  Germans 
was  evident  when  we  found  that  the  mask  had  not  been 
treated  with  chemicals  at  all;  some  of  the  Huns  at 
least  had  been  unprepared  for  a  gas  attack. 

The  clarifying  apparatus  on  the  British  water  cars 
was  mechanically  defective  and  usually  broke  at  certain 
definite  places.  Recommendations  were  made  by  us 
after  we  had  experimented  with  rubber  instead  of  rigid 
connections,  which  resulted  in  all  the  water  carts  in 
the  British  army  being  equipped  with  rubber  connec- 
tions, the  results  being  entirely  satisfactory. 

A  great  deal  of  experimental  laboratory  and  field 
work  was  done  with  chlorine  gas  and  the  efficiency  of 
gas  masks  and  helmets.  Experimental  physiological 
and  pathological  work  was  done  on  animals  with  chlor- 
ine and  other  gases,  and  on  the  drying  out  and  deteriora- 
tion of  gas  helmets  and  the  chemicals  used  in  them. 
Subsequently  a  Gas  Service  was  inaugurated  and  all 
work  of  this  sort  carried  out  in  special  laboratories  at 
G.H.Q. 

Quite  a  number  of  cases  of  nephritis  occurred 

159 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

among  soldiers,  and  arsenic  was  suggested  as  a  possible 
cause.  The  laboratory  was  asked  to  examine  a  consider- 
able number  of  samples  of  wine  and  beer  to  see  whether 
traces  of  arsenic  were  present  or  not.  None  was  found. 
A  large  quantity  of  wine  found  to  be  diluted  with  ditch 
water,  and  sold  to  our  soldiers,  was  destroyed,  and  the 
vendors  fined. 

One  day  a  young  medical  officer,  so  excited  that 
he  could  hardly  speak,  rushed  into  the  laboratory  with 
a  lot  of  dead  fish.  After  some  questioning  we  found 
that  there  were  tens  of  thousands  of  dead  fish  in  the 
Aire-La  Bassee  canal  and,  as  this  ran  into  the  German 
lines,  he  suspected  that  the  canal  water  had  been  poi- 
soned by  the  enemy.  We  told  him  that  we  thought  the 
fish  had  probably  died  from  asphyxiation  as  a  result  of 
organic  matter  from  a  starch  works  being  emptied  into 
the  stream.  He  went  away  unconvinced,  to  make  a  fur- 
ther enquiry  and  returned  later  in  the  day  to  report 
that  the  fish  in  the  canal  died  every  year  in  the  spring 
when  a  certain  distillery  dumped  its  waste  into  the 
canal.  Thus  did  former  experience  with  starch  mills 
pouring  their  effluents  into  Ontario  streams  and  kill- 
ing fish  prove  of  unexpected  use. 

The  laboratory  was  used  a  great  deal  by  the  highly 
trained  officers  of  the  Indian  Medical  service,  who  were 
always  wanting  some  unusual  parasite  or  insect  identi- 
fied, and  made  a  good  deal  of  use  of  our  library. 

A  German  high  explosive  percussion  bomb  was 
brought  in  one  day  for  us  to  identify  the  explosive  pre- 
sent. We  did  not  allow  the  messenger  even  to  lay  it 
down  but  besought  him  to  hold  it  tight  and  to  keep  mov- 

160 


LABORATORY  WORK  IN  THE  FIELD 

ing  towards  the  explosives  laboratory  seven  miles  away 
while  we  escorted  him  quickly  and  safely  from  the  pre- 
mises. The  way  some  of  those  chaps  handled  bombs 
and  shells  made  you  tired.  It  would  have  been  a  great 
pity  if  that  two  hundred  year  old  building  had  been 
blown  up  and  the  British  Army  compelled  to  pay  for  it. 

A  poor  soldier  up  and  died  one  day  without  warn- 
ing or  preliminary  sickness.  They  thought  it  might  be 
poison,  and  his  wife  would  have  been  deprived  of  her 
pension  if  the  man  had  committed  suicide.  We  were 
asked  to  examine  the  stomach  contents  to  decide 
whether  poison  was  present.  No  poison  was  found. 

We  were  sent  a  little  vial  containing  a  small 
amount  of  material  and  asked  to  determine  the  nature 
of  the  contents.  The  bottle  had  been  found  beside  a 
dead  German.  It  proved  to  be  opium,  and  the  owner 
had  evidently  been  prepared  for  a  painless  passage 
across  the  Styx  when  such  necessity  arose. 

Occasionally  we  had  to  investigate  possible  cases  of 
cholera  among  troops  coming  from  India.  One  day  we 
received  a  telegram  to  proceed  to  a  certain  place  about 
ten  miles  away  and  report  on  the  sanitary  surroundings 
and  particularly  on  the  water  supply  of  a  place  where 
an  old  Frenchman  had  died  with  "choleric  dysentery." 
We  found  the  place  after  some  search,  and  discovered 
that  the  old  man  had  died  a  month  before,  and  that  the 
suspected  water  supply,  unboiled,  had  been  used  ever 
since  by  a  certain  headquarter  staff  without  ill  effects. 
Needless  to  say  that  was  the  best  proof  obtainable  that 
the  water  supply  was  safe. 

The  use  of  raw  milk  was  forbidden  in  the  army, 

161 
12 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

and  condensed  milk  was  issued  instead.  Sometimes 
"blown"  cans  of  this  were  sent  in  for  examination  and 
found  to  be  infected  with  gas  producing  organisms. 
Whenever  such  occurred,  the  report  would  be  forward- 
ed back  through  the  system  to  England  and  the  manu- 
facturer would  be  apprised  of  the  fact  and  checked 
up  on  his  methods.  Canned  foods  of  various  sorts  were 
also  brought  in  for  examination,  but  nothing  of  a  harm- 
ful character  ever  discovered.  The  food  supply  of  the 
British  Army,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  was  of  the  highest 
quality  and  had  been  subjected  to  rigid  examination  by 
the  Government  inspectors  during  its  preparation; 
practically  none  of  it  was  ever  found  to  be  bad. 

Another  unusual  problem  arose  out  of  the  fact  that 
several  soldiers  had  contracted  anthrax,  both  in  Eng- 
land and  in  France,  and  the  shaving  brushes  issued 
were  suspected  of  being  the  cause.  We  undertook  to 
search  them  for  anthrax  spores,  but  found  it  was  too 
long  and  tedious  a  job  for  a  field  laboratory,  for  the 
brushes  were  full  of  spores  of  all  kinds.  Later  on  in 
England  anthrax  was  actually  found  by  other  bacteri- 
ologists in  some  of  these  brushes,  according  to  reports 
published. 

These  few  examples  taken  at  random  will  serve  to 
demonstrate  the  varied  character  of  the  work  of  a 
field  laboratory,  and  to  show  that  a  certain  amount  of 
experience  is  necessary  in  order  to  handle  some  of  the 
problems  affectively.  We  were  peculiarly  fortunate 
in  our  combined  experience.  Major  Rankin,  a  first 
rate  pathologist  and  bacteriologist  of  the  government 
of  Alberta,  had  been  in  charge  of  the  government  la- 

162 


LABORATORY  WORK  IN  THE  FIELD 

boratory  at  Siam  for  five  years  previous  to  the  war,  and 
knew  tropical  medicine  like  a  book,  while  Captain  Ellis 
had  carried  on  research  work  for  three  years  in  the 
Rockefeller  hospital  laboratories  in  New  York  and 
was  thoroughly  conversant  with  all  the  most  recent 
work  in  vaccine  and  serum  therapy.  Consequently  there 
was  practically  nothing  that  we  could  not  tackle  be- 
tween the  three  of  us,  either  in  bacteriology,  pathology, 
sanitation  or  treatment  of  epidemic  disease. 

Wherever  an  action  was  about  to  occur  on  the  front 
the  hospitals  were  evacuated  of  all  sick  and  wounded  in 
order  to  obtain  the  maximum  number  of  empty  beds. 
Consequently  when  fighting  was  going  on  the  hospitals 
were  very  busy  but  the  laboratory  routine  greatly  de- 
creased except  in  hygienic  work.  We  therefore  under- 
took scientific  investigations  of  various  kinds  to  keep 
busy  and  be  of  the  maximum  use. 

At  the  suggestion  of  the  D.M.S.  of  the  army, 
Major  Rankin  made  a  survey  of  the  army  area  for 
anopheles  mosquitoes.  The  Indian  corps  was  in  our 
area  at  the  time  and  he  obtained  the  co-operation  of  the 
officers  of  the  Indian  Medical  Servce,  who  being  parti- 
cularly keen  on  biting  insects  collected  many  specimens 
for  him.  This  variety  of  mosquito  transmits  malaria, 
and,  as  we  were  getting  a  few  cases  of  malaria  in  troops 
who  had  been  in  tropical  climates,  it  was  important 
to  determine  accurately  the  varieties  of  mosquitoes  pre- 
sent, particularly  since  the  numerous  ditches,  canals  and 
ponds  of  the  country  were  ideal  places  for  their  multi- 
plication. In  spite  of  the  anopheles  mosquito  being 
found  everywhere,  Major  Rankin  reported  that  he  did 

163 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

not  believe  that  there  would  be  many  new  cases  of 
malaria,  develop  in  France  and  such  proved  to  be 
the  case. 

Captain  Ellis  began  an  investigation  into  the 
grouping  of  the  various  strains  of  "meningococci"— 
the  organism  causing  cerebro-spinal  meningitis,  with 
the  ultimate  object  of  obtaining  a  more  efficient  anti- 
serum  for  the  treatment  of  this  disease. 

Apparatus  designed  to  purify  wash  water  from 
baths  before  turning  it  into  the  streams ;  designs  for  the 
building  of  small  chlorinating  plants  near  the  trenches, 
and  the  construction  of  field  incinerators  for  consum- 
ing garbage,  were  constantly  being  referred  to  us  for 
consideration  and  suggestions;  we  thus  had  a  variety 
of  sanitary  work  of  an  interesting  and  useful  kind, 
which  helped  to  keep  us  busy. 

The  nature  of  our  activities  carried  us  through 
the  area  of  shell  fire,  among  the  batteries  and  some- 
times quite  close  to  the  trenches.  We  were  free  lances 
to  all  intents  and  purposes  and  frequently  had  to  hunt 
out  new  problems  to  work  upon.  In  travelling  about 
in  the  course  of  our  work  we  saw  things  more  or  less 
from  the  spectator's  standpoint,  and  there  were  few 
things  going  on  that  escaped  us. 

Many  sad  and  depressing  sights  were  witnessed, 
and  one  received  many  vivid  impressions  of  what  war 
means  to  an  invaded  country, — impressions  which  can 
only  be  attained  by  actual  experience. 

Accompanied  by  the  sanitary  officer  of  the  19th 
division  one  morning  I  saw  a  very  sad  example  of  what 
ignorance  of  the  essentials  of  hygiene  can  bring  about. 

164 


LABORATORY  WORK  IN  THE  FIELD 

Down  in  a  swampy  spot  on  a  branch  of  the  canal  was  a 
little  hamlet,  and  one  of  the  tiny  houses  was  occupied 
by  a  family  of  refugees  from  La  Bassee. 

When  we  entered  the  house  swarms  of  flies  flew 
up  from  the  table  and  buzzed  about  while  we  did  our 
best  to  prevent  them  from  settling  upon  us.  The  father 
of  the  family  was  in  bed  unconscious,  with  typhoid 
fever.  The  mother,  dead  from  the  disease,  had  been 
buried  the  day  before. 

During  the  funeral  the  eldest  daughter,  a  pretty 
girl  of  sixteen,  sat  up  in  a  chair  trying  to  look  after  the 
visitors.  When  we  called  she  also  was  in  bed  delirious 
with  the  disease  in  the  same  room  as  her  father. 

The  baby  in  the  carriage  had  had  typhoid.  A 
little  two  year  old  boy  was  just  recovering,  and  was 
thought  to  have  been  the  original  case.  Two  other  boys 
of  seven  and  nine  years  of  age  were  getting  some  bread 
and  milk  for  their  dinner,  one  of  them  being  probably 
a  mild  case ;  and  a  girl  of  eleven,  evidently  coming  down 
with  the  disease,  was  going  about  looking  after  the 
household. 

With  that  swarm  of  disease-carrying  flies  in  the 
house  there  was  no  possibility  of  any  of  the  children 
escaping  the  infection.  It  was  with  the  greatest  diffi- 
culty that  the  sanitary  officer  of  the  division  succeeded 
in  getting  the  French  civilian  authorities  to  move  in  the 
matter  and  remove  the  cases  to  the  French  civilian 
hospital.  The  father  died  a  week  later,  and  the  sani- 
tary officer  himself  was  subsequently  killed  during  the 
battle  of  the  Somme. 

The  French  refugees  do  not  complain;  they  are 

165 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

not  that  kind.  They  told  their  stories  simply  and  in- 
variably finished  with  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders  and  the 
phrase  "c'est  la  guerre  n'est  ce  pas?"  (That  is  war,  is 
it  not?)  But  if  the  French  army  ever  gets  on  German 
soil  I  would  hate  to  be  a  German. 

One  night  we  found  that  our  first  Canadian  bri- 
gade was  going  into  the  trenches  at  Festubert  without 
the  chemical  necessary  to  saturate  their  gas  masks, 
which  had  just  been  issued  to  the  soldiers ;  we  succeed- 
ed in  borrowing  500  pounds  from  a  wide-awake  army 
corps  and  took  it  down  in  the  car  to  an  advanced  dress- 
ing station  which  the  brigade  would  have  to  pass.  The 
Germans  were  particularly  jumpy  that  night  as  we  felt 
our  way  along  that  very  rough  road  with  no  light  to 
guide  us  except  the  electric  green  light  of  the  numerous 
German  flares,  the  occasional  flashes  of  a  powerful  Ger- 
man search  light  sweeping  the  sky  and  ground,  and  the 
angry  red  spurts  from  the  guns  which  lit  up  the  sky  like 
summer  lightning. 

Once  we  had  occasion  to  make  a  trip  from  one 
shelled  village  to  another,  the  driver  had  been  given 
the  direction  and  no  further  attention  was  paid  to  him 
until  we  came  across  a  reserve  trench  manned  by 
Ghurkas.  This  drew  our  attention  to  the  fact  that  the 
country  was  quite  unfamiliar.  However,  the  next 
French  sign  post  showed  us  that  we  were  on  a  road 
leading  to  the  desired  village  and  we  kept  on. 

The  day  was  very  quiet  and  hazy  and  it  was  im- 
possible to  see  very  far.  We  suddenly  came  upon  the 
remains  of  a  little  village  which  had  been  literally 
levelled  to  the  ground ;  not  two  feet  of  brick  wall  could 

166 


LABORATORY  WORK  IN  THE  FIELD 

be  seen  anywhere.  At  the  cross  roads  in  the  centre  of 
the  village  two  military  policemen  seemed  to  be 
surprised  at  our  appearance  with  a  large  motor  car 
but  said  nothing,  evidently  thinking  that  we  knew 
our  own  business  best,  and  we  made  the  correct  turn 
according  to  the  sign  board  and  kept  on.  About  two 
hundred  yards  farther  on  we  ran  into  a  veritable  maze 
of  trenches,  barbed  wire  entanglements  and  dug-outs, 
without  doubt  part  of  the  front  line  trench  system. 
Needless  to  say  we  made  a  rapid  right-about  face  and 
speedily  retraced  our  steps  by  the  road  we  had  come. 

We  found  later  on  that  the  road  we  had  taken  did 
go  to  the  village  that  we  wanted  to  visit  but  that  it  went 
through  the  German  trenches  en  route.  At  the  point 
where  we  had  turned,  which  was  only  four  hundred 
yards  from  the  German  trenches,  thirty  men  had  been 
killed  by  snipers  during  that  month  while  getting 
water  at  one  of  the  wells  in  the  neighborhood.  The 
haze  in  the  atmosphere  saved  us  from  observation  for 
we  would  have  been  a  fine  target  for  rifles,  machine  guns 
and  even  whiz  bangs. 

We  met  officers  in  every  branch  of  the  service, — 
infantry,  cavalry,  artillery,  flying  corps,  ordnance,  army 
service,  medical,  engineers,  construction,  water  trans- 
port, etc.,  and  thereby  obtained  a  splendid  idea  of  what 
was  going  on,  and  how  the  various  branches  of  the  ser- 
vice worked  together  and  viewed  any  given  problem. 

Some  of  these  views  were  quite  at  variance  with 
one  another.  For  instance  the  artillery  man  looked 
upon  the  infantryman  as  the  man  who  protected  his 
guns  and  kept  off  the  enemy  while  he  killed  them.  The 

167 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

infantryman  naturally  looked  upon  the  artillery  as  the 
arm  to  support  him  in  time  of  trouble  and  prepare  the 
ground  while  he  did  the  dirty  work.  The  aviator  called 
them  all  "ground  soldiers"  in  a  more  or  less  lofty  man- 
ner. 

The  medical  and  other  services  looked  upon  the 
fighting  man  as  the  one  who  gave  them  a  great  deal  of 
work,  and  they  all  usually  forgot  that  they  existed  for 
the  express  purpose  of  keeping  Tommy  in  the  trenches 
clothed,  fed,  healthy  and  protected  from  the  assaults  of 
the  enemy;  for  Tommy  is  the  man,  say  what  you  will, 
without  him  everything  else  goes  smash ;  it  is  the  human 
being  who  still  counts  in  war;  it  is  the  man  power  which 
will  win. 


168 


CHAPTER  XII. 

SKETCHES  FROM  A  LABORATORY  WINDOW. 
The  Bandstand  in  the  Square. 

MANY  interesting  little  affairs  happened  in  the 
Bandstand  in  the  Grand  Place  beneath  our  labora- 
tory windows.  One  Sunday  evening  in  June  a  khaki- 
clad  figure  ascended  a  pulpit  which  had  been  impro- 
vised there;  the  seats  in  front  of  him  were  filled  with 
rows  of  generals,  colonels  and  other  officers.  In  a  rich, 
stentorian  voice  he  gave  out  the  lines  of  a  verse,  and  led 
by  a  cornet,  the  strains  of  the  grand  old  hymn  "O  God 
our  help  in  ages  past"  swelled  on  the  summer  evening 
air,  sung  as  only  soldiers  can  sing. 

The  crowd  of  soldiers  about  the  bandstand  grew, 
and  little  French  children  playing  about  in  their  best 
Sunday  clothes,  stopped  in  curious  wonderment  to  hear 
"Les  Anglais"  sing.  A  few  of  their  elders  strolled 
over  and  even  though  they  could  not  understand,  they 
listened  attentively. 

Our  thoughts  flew  thousands  of  miles  over  the 
ocean  to  other  Sunday  evening  services  at  our  home  in 
Canada.  We  could  see  the  old  family  pew;  we  could 
hear  father  and  mother  and  the  old  friends  singing  that 
same  old  hymn,  while  our  youthful  minds  were  likely 
busied  with  recollections  of  a  lacrosse  match  or  baseball 
game  that  we  had  seen  the  day  before,  or  maybe  of  a 
visit  to  the  old  dam  where  we  had  had  the  finest  swim 

169 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

of  the  season.  We  could  see  women  attired  in  spotless 
white,  and  men  in  frock  coats  and  silk  hats,  walking 
sedately  to  church,  and  we  longed  with  an  intense  long- 
ing for  one  more  such  Sunday  in  the  old  home  town. 
It  seemed  ages  since  we  had  been  there;  we  wondered 
whether  we  would  ever  visit  the  old  scenes  again,  and 
we  had  a  premonition  that  we  never  would.  The  theme 
of  the  brief  sermon  was  the  old,  old  story  of  Christ's 
coming  to  save  sinners,  and  the  guns  boomed  and  a 
belated  aeroplane  overhead  buzzed  homeward  while 
the  speaker  appealed  earnestly  to  his  hearers  to  serve 
Christ  by  following  his  example  in  true  living  even  as 
they  were  now,  by  offering  their  lives,  serving  humanity. 

General  Haig  presents  medals. 

One  summer  evening,  after  the  battle  of  Aubers 
Ridge  a  number  of  junior  officers  and  private  soldiers, 
including  Indians,  began  to  gather  about  the  band- 
stand. As  ten  o'clock  approached,  motor  after  motor 
drew  up,  numerous  staff  officers  descended  and  formed 
themselves  into  groups.  There  was  much  saluting  and 
hand-shaking,  the  saluting  being  done  by  the  junior  offi- 
cers and  men,  and  the  hand-shaking  taking  place  among 
the  seniors. 

Although  furniture  was  none  too  plentiful  a  table 
which  was  secured  somewhere,  was  placed  about  six 
paces  in  front  of  the  grandstand  steps.  A  cloth  was 
placed  upon  the  table,  and  two  officers  began  spreading 
on  it  in  orderly  array  various  small  boxes.  A  list  was 
produced,  names  were  compared  and  carefully  checked. 
The  officers  and  men  who  were  to  receive  decorations 

170 


SKETCHES  FROM  LABORATORY  WINDOW 

were  then  paraded,  and  as  the  roll  was  called  each  man 
took  his  place  in  order  in  the  line.  The  list  was  again 
checked  over,  and  compared  with  the  boxes  on  the  table. 

At  10.20  a  big  car  drove  up  and  a  figure  stepped 
out — a  figure  known  to  the  whole  world — Sir  Douglas 
Haig.  Well  groomed,  handsome,  quick  of  his  move- 
ment, he  looked  as  he  was,  every  inch  a  soldier.  As 
he  approached  the  groups  everyone  stood  to  attention; 
the  senior  officer  gave  the  salute,  and  the  General 
acknowledged  it. 

After  a  few  words  with  the  officers  in  charge,  Gen- 
eral Haig  took  his  place  behind  the  table  and  made  a 
short  speech,  after  which  the  soldiers  were  called  up 
one  by  one  while  he  pinned  on  their  medals  or  decora- 
tions. Each  soldier  saluted  as  stepped  forward,  and 
as  he  stepped  back  to  his  place  he  saluted  again  in 
acknowledgment  of  the  remarks  of  the  General. 

There  was  no  fuss,  no  feathers ;  the  affair  was  typi- 
cally British.  Such  decorations  as  the  Legion 
d'Honeur  and  Croix  de  Guerre,  had  to  be  presented, 
and  they  were,  after  which  everybody  shook  hands  and 
went  away.  It  was  all  very  simple.  In  serving  your 
country  you  risk  your  life,  and  incidentally  you  may  get 
a  decoration  for  bravery.  Why  make  a  fuss  about  it? 

An  Old  Flanders  Hotel. 

There  are  many  kinds  of  hotels  in  the  little  towns 
and  villages  of  northern  France,  some  good  and  some 
bad ; — mostly  good  if  you  only  want  bread,  cheese  and 
beer,  and  very  bad  if  you  want  anything  else.  Still, 
you  do  occasionally  run  across  an  hotel  which  is  capable 

171 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

of  providing  a  decent  meal,  though  the  rooms  and  gen- 
eral accommodation  are,  as  a  rule,  exceedingly  poor. 
Heat  is  a  thing  unknown.  If  you  raise  a  row  and  de- 
mand a  fire,  they  will  provide  it  for  sundry  francs  and 
centimes  extra.  In  war  time  coal  becomes  more  and 
more  difficult  to  obtain,  and  the  inveigling  of  a  fire  out 
of  mine  host  becomes  increasingly  difficult. 

The  M Hotel  was  rather  a  pretentious  hos- 
telry. It  occupied  part  of  the  City  Hall  or  Hotel  de 
Ville  which  faced  the  Grande  Place.  The  Hotel  de 
Ville  is  a  rather  good  looking  red  brick  building,  three 
stones  high,  and  is  said  to  be  over  200  years  old.  In 
the  centre  an  arch  way,  protected  by  heavy  iron  gates, 
leads  into  an  inner  court,  occupied  chiefly  by  stables. 
To  the  right  is  the  entrance  to  the  police  magistrate's 
office  and  court,  and  to  the  left  is  the  entrance  to  our 
Hostelry. 

A  typical  old  Frenchman,  with  a  snow-white 
drooping  moustache  and  closely  cropped  white  hair, 
runs  the  hotel  with  the  aid  of  his  rosy  cheeked  daughter 
and  a  couple  of  maids.  The  old  man  spends  his  time 
in  dispensing  wine  and  beer,  looking  after  the  maids, 
occasionally  cooking  a  meal  for  a  particular  guest,  buy- 
ing the  food,  and  playing  billiards  with  the  little  groups 
of  old  cronies  that  foregather  in  the  common  room  each 
evening.  Like  all  Frenchmen,  he  had  been  a  soldier 
in  his  time,  and  had  never  forgiven  the  Germans  for 
1870.  His  picture  as  a  young  man  in  uniform,  hung 
in  the  dining-room  of  the  hotel. 

Moreover,  he  was  a  musician,  and  before  the  war 
had  played  the  French  horn  in  the  town  band.  His 

172 


SKETCHES  FROM  LABORATORY  WINDOW 

banquet  hall,  which  we  were  now  using  as  a  laboratory, 
had  been  the  band  room  and  the  home  of  all  band  prac- 
tices in  the  long  winter  months.  How  the  old  man 
did  roll  his  eyes  with  ecstacy  and  raise  his  hands  with 
unutterable  joy  as  he  listened  for  the  first  time  to  the 
wonderful  mellow  music  of  the  British  Grenadier 
Guards'  band  as  it  played  in  the  bandstand  in  the  square. 
Handel's  largo,  the  overture  to  Tannhauser,  and  a  fan- 
tasia on  British  airs, — each  brought  forth  a  different 
series  of  gestures.  "Monsieur,  I  have  not  heard  such  fine 
music  since  I  heard  the  Republican  Guards'  band  at 
Paris;  in  fact,  monsieur,  this  is  finer — the  tone  is  richer, 
rounder  and  more  mellow.  It  is  marvellous,  Monsieur 
le  Colonel,  marvellous;  it  is  entrancing;  a-ha!  heaven- 
ly!" 

M—  -  Hotel  in  the  evening  was  an  interesting 
sight.  Little  tables  were  spread  about  upon  the  sawdust 
sprinkled  floor,  each  table  with  two  or  four  guests  dis- 
cussing the  official  communiques  of  the  day,  the  flow  of 
talk  assisted  by  a  bottle  of  red  or  white  wine.  M.  X., 
the  miller,  at  heart  more  or  less  of  a  pessimist  invari- 
ably got  into  an  argument  with  that  fierce  optimist, 
M.  Y.,  the  lumberman.  Night  after  night  they  would 
argue  as  to  the  progress  of  the  war;  whether  Germany 
was  really  short  of  food;  whether  there  were  really 
three  million  men  in  "Keetchenaire's"  army;  whether 
the  country  was  infested  with  spies ;  or  why  Von  Kluck's 
army  turned  back  from  Paris. 


173 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

An  Indian  Concert. 

Towards  four  o'clock,  one  afternoon,  we  noticed 
an  unusual  clearing  up  of  the  village  square.  Mili- 
tary policemen  were  ordering  away  motor  cars,  wagons, 
and  lorries,  while  everything  in  the  square  was  made 
spick  and  span.  About  four-thirty,  Sikhs,  Beloochis, 
Pathans,  and  Ghurkas  began  to  stroll  into  the  square 
and  congregate  in  goups,  shaking  hands  with  acquain- 
tances they  had  not  met  for  some  time,  just  like  typical 
Frenchmen.  Those  who  came  later  carried  drums  and 
bagpipes  of  the  regulation  kind.  At  five  minutes  to 
five  the  bandmaster  made  his  appearance,  and  the  band 
lined  up  while  they  tuned  their  chanters. 

Sharp  at  five  o'clock,  with  a  punctuality  that  was 
remarkable,  the  band  stepped  out  across  the  square  to 
the  tune  of  "The  Cock  of  the  North,"  played  in  perfect 
time  and  tune.  At  the  far  side  of  the  square  they 
wheeled  about  and  back  they  came  with  ribbons  flying 
and  chests  inflated,  looking  like  real  natives  of  the  Scot- 
tish hills.  It  was  the  most  perfect  pipe  playing  I  had 
ever  heard.  The  French  were  delighted.  As  the 
strains  died  away  in  the  wail  of  the  chanters,  a  hearty 
round  of  applause  brought  smiles  to  the  serious  faces 
of  the  Indians,  and  away  they  went  again  to  "Highland 
Laddie,"  followed  by  "The  Campbells  are  Coming." 

Then  another  band  followed  with  performance  on 
the  Indian  pipe  which  is  something  like  a  chanter,  with- 
out the  bag  or  drones.  The  effect  was  awful.  To  make 
a  hit  they  attempted  "La  Marseillaise,"  and  it  was  a 
hit.  Had  it  been  a  farce  it  could  not  have  been  beaten 

174 


SKETCHES  FROM  LABORATORY  WINDOW 

— no  two  instruments  were  in  tune  and  some  of  the 
notes  of  the  scale  were  altogether  missing,  so  that  the 
most  ghastly  discords  were  sprung  upon  us.  No  wonder 
such  instruments  can  lash  the  hillsmen  into  fury.  They 
had  us  nearly  fighting  mad. 

To  hint  that  we  were  not  entranced  with  their 
efforts,  we  clapped  but  faintly — but  the  musicians  took 
it  as  hearty  applause,  and  burst  forth  with  fearful 
onslaught  upon  "Rule  Britannia."  When  they  were 
through  you  could  have  heard  a  pin  fall.  Not  a  soul 
risked  a  sound  lest  the  players  should  mistake  it  as  an 
invitation  to  renew  their  entertainment;  so  the  real  pipe 
band  came  on  for  another  whirl  and  we  were  made 
happy  once  more. 

Precisely  at  five-thirty,  the  concert  ended,  and  the 
cosmopolitan  crowd  of  French  civilians  and  soldiers, 
British  Tommies,  Indians,  Highlanders,  and  Cana- 
dians, melted  away.  Five  minutes  after,  save  for  the 
presence  of  a  few  blue  rock  pigeons  flitting  about  in 
search  of  their  evening  meal,  the  square  showed  no  sign 
of  life. 

The  Jail. 

The  town  jail  and  dungeon  is  in  the  Hotel  de 
Ville.  Heavy  barred  doors  open  into  a  little  dimly-lit 
store  room,  with  windows  high  up  protected  by  iron 
bars.  Through  this  room  a  small  doorway  leads  to  a 
dungeon  without  light  of  any  sort.  We  always  knew 
when  this  prison  had  an  occupant — in  the  morning  a 
fatigue  party  under  a  corporal  would  appear  marching 
across  the  square  carrying  food  rations.  The  corporal 

175 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

would  halt  his  men,  step  forward  and  give  the  signal 
on  the  door;  it  would  be  opened  by  the  sentry  guard- 
ing the  inner  cell.  The  food  was  then  conveyed  to  the 
prisoner,  the  fatigue  party  marched  away,  and  the  sen- 
try with  rifle  on  shoulder  paced  up  and  down  the  front 
of  the  jail  until  his  relief  arrived.  At  no  time  was  the 
guard  off  duty  for  a  moment  until  the  prisoner,  perhaps 
under  sentence  of  death,  had  been  removed. 

Once  we  had  to  report  on  a  swab  from  a  prisoner 
under  the  death  sentence.  Military  law  says  that  no 
man  can  be  shot  while  suffering  from  any  disease  in 
hospital.  Conseqently  when  this  man  was  found  to 
have  a  suspiciously  sore  throat,  it  was  reported  by  the 
Medical  Officer  and  there  was  great  excitement.  Tele- 
grams flew  back  and  forth  about  the  matter  while  I 
had  to  stay  up  till  midnight  to  obtain  a  good  culture. 
The  culture,  much  to  the  relief  of  the  staff  officer  who 
was  waiting  for  the  report,  did  not  show  diphtheria 
bacilli,  and  at  five  o'clock  the  following  morning  the 
poor  chap  met  his  fate. 

A  Canadian  Graveyard. 

The  road  to  Bethune  was  always  of  interest  to  us, 
because  near  the  pretty  little  village  of  Hinges  was  a 
hill;  in  fact  Hinges  was  right  on  the  top  of  this  hill— 
our  area,  elsewhere,  was  as  flat  as  a  board.  Hinges 
was  interesting  because  it  was  full  of  trees  and  hedges 
and  gardens,  and  somehow  reminded  one  of  the  beau- 
tiful little  sequestered  villages  of  England,  rather  than  a 
French  village. 

On  the  far  side  of  the  village,  where  the  hill  de- 

176 


SKETCHES  FROM  LABORATORY  WINDOW 

scending  swept  away  off  towards  Bethune,  a  fine  big 
French  chateau  nestled  in  the  midst  of  a  huge  park  of 
enormous  trees.  From  the  chateau  a  sweeping  view 
of  the  surrounding  country  was  obtained.  Not  more 
than  two  miles  below  it,  on  the  La  Bassee  Canal,  could 
be  seen  the  spires  and  towers  of  the  real  little  city  of 
Bethune.  Away  beyond  Bethune  one  could  see  the  blue 
hills  in  which  the  Germans  were  strongly  entrenched. 
To  the  right  among  these  hills  projected  three  sharp- 
pointed,  pyramidal  hills,  indicating  the  location  of  the 
dumps  of  French  coal  mines,  then  operated  by  the 
Germans. 

For  a  time  during  the  battles  of  Givenchey,  one  of 
our  field  ambulances  had  been  located  in  the  spacious 
shady  grounds  of  the  chateau.  A  little  graveyard  near 
the  main  gateway,  on  the  roadside,  is  the  last  sleeping 
place  of  a  number  of  Canadians  who  died  in  this  ambu- 
lance. To-day  a  neat  fence  surrounds  this  little  area  of 
Canadian  soil  and  the  graves  are  kept  trim  and  covered 
with  flowers.  Even  before  the  authorities  took  any 
action  I  saw  the  French  country  people  themselves 
decorating  the  little  mounds  beneath  which  lay  "Les 
Canadiens"  who  had  come  so  far  "to  fight  for  France" 
in  this  struggle  for  the  freedom  of  the  world. 

It  is  a  beautiful  little  sleeping-place,  and  somehow 
it  never  seemed  to  me  so  sad  a  spot  as  some  of  the  other 
graveyards  in  France  where  our  Canadians  lie.  As 
the  roar  of  the  British  guns  increase  as  the  months  go 
by,  and  the  number  of  shells  carrying  death  and  destruc- 
tion to  the  Germans,  multiplies — one  can  imagine  that 
the  spirits  of  those  who  lie  below  are  watching  the 

177 
13 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

enemy  lines  being  pressed  back  towards  Berlin,  and  that 
they  will  understand  that  their  sacrifice  has  not  been 
in  vain. 

And,  one  night  as  I  passed  the  spot,  during  the 
battle  of  Loos,  when  the  sky  flickered  red  as  from 
summer  lightning  with  the  flash  of  myriads  of  shells, 
and  the  horizon  was  defined  in  electric  green  from  the 
flares  of  the  Germans,  I  fancied  that  I  could  see  the 
shadowy  spirits  of  the  departed  ones  hovering  over  this 
spot  before  their  final  departure,  and  I  felt  that  they 
must  realize  that  the  work  of  our  army  in  it's  struggle 
for  the  freedom  of  the  world  was  being  carried  on  with 
increasing  efficiency. 

Indissoluble  ties  now  bind  France  to  Canada:  her 
soil  has  been  watered  with  our  very  best  blood  and  the 
bond  of  a  common  suffering  in  a  righteous  cause  has 
united  us  forever. 

A  Hot  Day  in  the  Field. 

One  hot  day  in  early  June  I  made  a  tour  of  the  — 
divisional  area  with  the  sanitary  officer.  We  had  been 
asked  to  go  over  this  area,  and  make  suggestions  for 
the  improvement  of  its  sanitary  condition.  It  was  the 
only  time  during  two  summers  spent  in  France  that  I 
felt  I  was  really  in  the  "sunny  France"  of  my  imagina- 
tion. The  sun  beat  down  on  the  floor  of  our  open  car 
so  that  when  one  stopped  for  a  minute  it  became  a 
veritable  little  red  hot  radiator.  So  long  as  we  kept 
moving,  the  breeze  created  made  it  bearable;  but  when 
we  left  the  car  for  a  minute  the  seats  become  too  hot 


178 


SKETCHES  FROM  LABORATORY  WINDOW 

to  sit  on,  and  the  perspiration  fairly  streamed  down 
our  faces. 

The  air  rising  from  the  fields  and  roads  vibrated 
like  that  over  a  hot  stove;  the  dust  raised  by  motors 
hung  suspended  for  long  minutes  in  the  motionless  air, 
and  filled  one's  nose  and  mouth.  The  chickens  in  the 
farmyards  stood  with  beaks  wide  open  gasping  for 
air. 

Even  military  form  was  relaxed  on  account  of  the 
heat,  and  lorry  drivers,  men  on  transports,  and  troops 
marched  and  worked  with  their  coats  off.  All  the  water 
ditches  near  the  front  were  filled  with  soldiers  bathing 
themselves.  It  is  extraordinary  how  war  conditions 
will  break  down  conventions.  Many  times  that  day  I 
saw  absolutely  nude  men  bathing  in  a  roadside  ditch,  and 
women  passing  only  a  few  yards  away,  neither  of  them 
being  at  all  concerned  about  the  others.  Sections  of 
the  Aire-La-Bassee  canal  looked  like  the  "old  swim- 
ming pool"  in  midsummer.  Hundreds  of  soldiers 
dived,  swam,  and  rolled  about  in  the  dirty  waters. 
Finely  built,  rosy-skinned  chaps  they  were  too,  playing 
about  like  care-free  boys,  with  aeroplanes  buzzing  by 
overhead,  and  shells  exploding  in  a  village  to  the  rear. 

After  a  busy  morning  making  our  inspection  and 
taking  water  samples  for  examination,  we  dined  at  the 
divisional  Mess  B  and  set  out  again  to  complete  our 
tour.  We  visited  the  various  filling  points  of  water 
carts  and  gradually  drew  nearer  the  front  line  trenches. 
Turning  down  one  arm  of  "the  tuning  fork" — a  forked 
road  near  Festubert,  we  came  upon  an  advanced  dress- 


179 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

ing-station.  A  little  to  our  left  was  a  grey  pile  of  bricks 
and  rubble,  all  that  remained  of  the  village  of  Festubert. 

The  medical  officer  of  the  dressing-station  told  me 
that  only  ten  minutes  before  the  enemy  had  been  shell- 
ing the  spot  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  farther  on,  which 
was  our  next  point  of  inspection. 

"What  do  you  think?  Shall  we  go?"  asked  the 
sanitary  officer. 

"I  leave  it  to  you,"  I  said,  and  we  proceeded. 

As  we  approached  our  destination  I  picked  up  the 
next  numbered  bottle.  It  was  number  13.  A  curious 
sensation  passed  over  me  and  I  put  the  bottle  back, 
taking  up  number  14.  "Why  don't  you  live  up  to  your 
disbelief  in  superstitions,"  I  said  to  myself  and  I  put 
bottle  number  14  back.  When  we  arrived  at  the  place 
I  took  up  number  13,  got  the  water  sample  while  the 
car  was  being  turned  and  "beat  it."  Of  course  nothing 
happened  and  we  finished  our  trip  at  5  p.m.  after  a 
60-mile  tour  through  the  area  occupied  by  as  fine  a 
Scotch  division  as  Scotland  ever  produced. 

There  are  compensations  for  almost  everything  in 
life  if  you  can  discover  them:  I  never  enjoyed  a  bath 
more  in  my  life  than  the  one  I  had  when  I  reached  home 
that  night,  sticky  and  dusty  and  hot,  with  the  aid  of  a 
sponge  and  half  a  gallon  of  water.  (Baths  are  rare  in 
French  houses.) 

The  Fire  Fete. 

Merville  is  a  staunch  compact  little  town  with  a 
big  church  whose  lofty  byzantine,  rounded  dome 
projected  high  into  the  air  forms  a  landmark  that  can 

180 


SKETCHES  FROM  LABORATORY  WINDOW 

be  seen  for  miles.  We  have  been  able  to  pick  up  this 
tower  quite  easily  from  a  point  in  Belgium  fourteen 
miles  away — a  point  from  which  we  were  actually 
watching  the  bombardment  of  our  lines  at  St.  Eloi  on 
the  10th  of  June  1916.  The  church  is  a  very  large  one 
for  a  town  of  the  size,  but  as  the  people  are  very  good 
Catholics  in  that  district,  it  was  in  constant  use  from 
early  morning  to  late  at  night.  Funerals  passed  to  and 
from  it  daily  and  the  chants  of  the  resonant-voiced 
priests  became  such  a  frequent  thing  that  we  ceased  to 
pay  any  attenton  to  them.  Funerals  in  France  are  a 
most  terribly  depressing  sort  of  thing,  anyway. 

One  Sunday  there  was  evidence  of  something  un- 
usual on  hand.  A  stage  twenty  feet  across  had  been 
erected  against  the  wall  of  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  facing 
the  square  and  approached  by  a  flight  of  a  dozen  steps. 
During  the  course  of  the  morning  it  was  covered  with 
green  boughs  and  flowers,  a  cross  was  erected  on  the  top 
while  various  coloured  banners  and  the  tricolors  helped 
to  make  a  very  effective  and  pretty  stage. 

Meanwhile  around  the  church  square  there  was 
great  excitement.  Girls  of  all  ages  in  white,  and  boys 
with  short  white  trousers,  blue  coats  and  tam-o-shanters 
had  been  going  towards  the  church  since  early  morning. 
From  our  laboratory  window  we  could  see  these  young- 
sters being  collected  into  groups  and  being  instructed  by 
nuns.  Banners  of  various  kinds  floated  in  the  air  and 
hung  from  the  windows  of  the  houses  round  about. 

We  had  settled  into  our  daily  work  when  the  sound 
of  children's  voices  floated  through  the  laboratory  win- 
dows, and  we  looked  out  to  see  a  procession  coming 

181 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

across  the  Grande  Place,  led  by  an  old  man  carrying  a 
gilded  staff  and  wearing  a  cocked  hat.  Right  behind 
him  walked  a  priest  between  two  altar  boys,  all  three 
wearing  elaborately  worked  tunics  of  lace;  the  boys 
carried  poles  with  lanterns  on  the  top. 

Following  them  came,  two  and  two,  the  smaller 
boys  of  the  village.  Then  came  a  band  of  tiny  boys 
carrying  wooden  guns  over  their  shoulders  and  dressed 
as  Turcos ;  large  groups  of  bigger  boys  followed  dressed 
in  white  trousers,  blue  coats  and  tam-o-shanter  hats, 
and  headed  by  a  bugle  band. 

These  were  succeeded  by  a  number  of  girls  dressed 
entirely  in  white,  the  smaller  ones  being  in  front  and 
the  larger  ones  behind.  Then  came  the  really  beauti- 
ful part  of  the  procession.  In  this  section  every  girl 
was  dressed  differently,  each  dress  being  of  some  period 
in  the  history  of  Flanders.  As  a  study  in  costume  alone 
it  was  exceedingly  fine. 

Some  of  the  dresses  were  quite  beautiful.  One  had 
a  blue-laced  bodice  over  white  and  a  red  velvet  skirt 
with  a  high  pointed  black  straw  hat;  another  had  a 
black  bodice  with  a  white  under  vest  and  a  blue  skirt, 
the  hat  being  of  white  lace.  Others  which  I  cannot  now 
remember  in  exact  detail  were  very  interesting  and  re- 
called all  the  historical  tales  that  I  had  ever  read  of 
ancient  Flanders. 

Next  came  a  canopy  supported  by  two  of  the  older 
men  but  with  choir  boys  on  the  four  guy  ropes.  Under 
it  walked  the  priest  who  was  to  be  the  master  of  cere- 
monies for  the  day.  Then  came  other  girls  in  white, 
depicting  various  characters  in  French  history,  such  as 

182 


SKETCHES  FROM  LABORATORY  WINDOW 

Joan  of  Arc.  The  prettiest  girl  of  the  village  was  the 
one  chosen  to  be  the  angel,  she  wore  a  large  pair  of 
wings  and  was  dressed  in  a  white  filmy  material  which 
made  her  quite  realistic  according  to  the  commonly 
accepted  ideas  of  angels.  After  these  walked  the  older 
girls  and  women  of  the  village  according  to  their  age, 
the  tottering  old  grandmothers  coming  last.  Finally 
came  the  men  in  the  order  of  their  age. 

By  this  time  the  procession  had  doubled  backward 
and  forward  on  itself  as  it  gradually  approached  the 
altar  under  our  windows.  The  officiating  priest,  which 
on  this  occasion  happened  to  be  the  clergyman  from 
our  own  hospital,  slowly  mounted  the  steps  of  the  stage 
as  the  chant  swelled  into  greater  volume,  and  the  whole 
crowd  went  down  upon  its  knees  in  prayer.  After  cer- 
tain offices  had  been  performed  by  the  priest  at  the  altar 
he  descended  and  the  procession  dispersed. 

Such  was  the  interesting  "Fete  de  Feu"  of  Mer- 
ville.  We  were  told  on  the  very  highest  authority  that 
at  one  time  over  two  hundred  years  ago,  the  town  caught 
fire  and  that  nothing  could  be  done  to  save  it.  In  this 
dire  extremity  the  parish  priest  prayed  to  God  and 
promised  him  that  if  he  would  save  the  village  the  town 
would  each  year  for  all  time  have  a  memorial  proces- 
sion of  thanksgiving;  immediately  the  fire  went  out  and 
the  thankful  villagers  and  their  descendants  have  since 
that  time  never  failed  to  keep  the  sacred  promise  then 
made. 


183 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 
To  ban's  Pup. 

Private  Toban,  contrary  to  army  orders,  owned  a 
dog.  It  was  a  nondescript  pup,  with  a  cross  eye,  and 
also  a  kink  in  his  tail.  It  was  coloured  a  sort  of  battle- 
ship grey  with  two  or  three  splashes  of  brown  on  the 
flanks,  and  his  nearest  blood  relative  was  probably  a 
French  poodle — though  his  ancestry  was  a  subject  of 
prolonged  and  sometimes  heated  debate  between  Toban 
and  his  mates.  A  Tommy  who  had  scornfully  described 
him  as  "A  'ell  of  a  lookin'  dawg"  had  been  promptly 
felled  by  a  blow  from  Toban's  right. 

Before  the  second  battle  of  Ypres,  when  the  divi- 
sion was  in  training,  the  Canadians  did  a  good  deal 
of  route  marching.  Toban  used  to  take  the  pup  along 
with  him  and  the  pup  used  to  become  tired.  Then 
Toban  would  pick  him  up  and  carry  him.  Finally 
the  medical  officer  noticed  his  fondness  for  the  dog  and 
would,  on  occasion,  take  the  pup  in  front  of  him  on  the 
saddle. 

Once  the  battalion  was  going  into  action  and  the 
M.O.  was  busy  at  his  regimental  aid  post,  making  pre- 
parations for  a  rush,  when  Toban  came  in.  "Say,  Doc- 
tor," he  explained,  "I  can't  take  the  pup  with  me  and  I 
tied  him  to  a  tree  down  the  road." 

"I  will  look  after  him"  promised  the  M.O.  and 
Toban  disappeared. 

"Here  Corporal,  find  that  dog,  and  label  him  with 
Pte.  Toban's  number  and  company,"  ordered  the  M.O. 

In  a  couple  of  minutes  the  Corporal  returned. 


184 


SKETCHES  FROM  LABORATORY  WINDOW 

"Say  Captain,"  he  reported,  "I  found  the  pup 
wrapped  up  in  Toban's  blanket  and  tied  to  a  tree." 

The  rush  began  and  the  doctor  forgot  all  about  the 
dog  until  an  hour  later,  when  Toban,  spitting  teeth  and 
blood,  stumbled  into  the  room  with  a  bullet  through  his 
jaw. 

"Oh,  say  Toban,"  called  the  M.O.,  "I  found  your 
dog,  and  he's  all  right." 

When  Toban's  face  was  bound  up  the  M.O.  asked, 
"Do  you  think  you  can  make  the  field  ambulance  by 
the  bridge?"  Toban  nodded  and  started  off. 

A  minute  later  he  thrust  his  head  into  the  room — 
the  pup  was  in  his  arms,  still  wrapped  in  the  blanket— 
and  spluttering  gratefully  through  the  dressings,  "I  got 
'im,  Doc,  good-bye,"  away  went  Private  Toban  en  route 
to  Blighty. 

The  Incorrigible. 

Private  Saunders  of  the  — th  Canadian  battalion 
was  a  hopeless  alcoholic.  In  England  he  had  become 
such  an  incorrigible  that  the  regimental  officers  decided 
to  get  rid  of  the  man.  Major  M —  hearing  the  case 
being  discussed  by  some  fellow  officers,  said,  "Let  me 
have  a  try  at  him"  and  with  relief  they  agreed  to  his 
transfer  to  the  Nth. 

In  due  time  the  battalion  went  to  France,  and  like 
all  others  in  the  first  division,  took  part  in  the  second 
battle  of  Ypres.  During  one  of  the  attacks  Major  M. 
was  shot  through  the  chest,  and  left  on  the  field  as  his 
battalion  was  slowly  forced  back.  Saunders  learned 
that  the  Major — the  one  man  who  had  treated  him 

185 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

like  a  human  being,  was  somewhere  out  in  front.  Under 
cover  of  night  he  left  the  trench  and  crawling  on  his 
hands  and  knees  searched  about  for  hours  amid  a  hail 
of  bullets  and  shrapnel,  till  he  found  the  Major. 

"You  can't  carry  me,  Saunders,  leave  me  and  go 
back,"  commanded  the  Major. 

"Now  look  here,"  said  Saunders,  "you  have  al- 
ways been  my  boss  and  I've  done  what  you  told  me, 
now  it's  my  turn;  you  do  as  I  tell  you,"  and  getting  the 
Major  on  his  back  he  carried  him  200  yards  to  the  shel- 
ter of  a  ditch.  Then  obtaining  assistance  he  went  out 
and  succeeded  in  having  the  Major  conveyed  to  a  dress- 
ing-station. 

Again  taking  his  place  with  his  battalion, 
Saunders  went  into  another  attack  the  same  night, 
and  had  his  head  blown  off.  Here  was  a  case 
where,  as  far  as  the  officer  was  concerned,  kindness  had 
its  own  reward;  and  here  again  was  a  case  of  an  appar- 
ently useless  man,  when  his  hour  had  struck,  arising 
to  the  supreme  heights  of  self-sacrifice. 

Dirty  Jock. 

You  can't  always  tell  the  real  worth  of  any  man 
to  the  army.  Some  men,  who  are  efficient  and  valuable, 
in  times  of  quiet,  are  not  able  to  stand  up  in  the  gruel- 
ling of  a  battle;  while  other  men,  ordinarily  useless  and 
difficult  to  handle,  will  develop  wonderful  initiative,  re- 
sourcefulness, and  daring  under  stress  or  emergency. 
The  quality  of  heroism  may  be  surrounded  by  the  most 
unlikely  exterior — but  at  the  supreme  moment  the 


186 


SKETCHES  FROM  LABORATORY  WINDOW 

hero  in  every  man  will  come  out  and  he  may  surprise 
us  by  rising  to  undreamed  heights  of  self-sacrifice. 

Jock  Smith  was  a  nuisance  to  the  whole  regiment; 
he  was  a  constant  reproach  to  the  Colonel,  the  Medical 
officer  and  everybody  else.  The  very  day  his  regiment 
landed  in  England  he  got  gloriously  drunk  and  it  was 
only  by  the  simple  but  very  certain  method  of  prodding 
him  with  the  point  of  a  bayonet  in  the  immediate  rear 
that  he  was  kept  from  falling  out  of  the  ranks  and  going 
to  sleep  on  the  roadside. 

"I  didna  know  ye  were  gaun  ta  march  the  nicht  oor 
I  wudna  hae  got  drunk,"  he  apologized. — So  it  was 
always.  Smith  was  dirty.  Smith  was  troublesome. 
Smith,  in  short,  could  have  well  been  done  without. 
So  dirty  did  he  become,  in  fact,  and  so  verminous,  that 
his  medical  officer  ordered  that  he  be  given  a  bath ;  and 
the  order  was  carried  out  by  a  squad  of  four  husky 
Tommies  with  a  considerable  amount  of  enthusiasm  on 
the  part  of  the  squad  and  a  tremendous  amount  of  pro- 
fanity on  the  part  of  Smith. 

One  bright  day  "a  show  was  pulled  off."  Like  the 
rest  of  the  battalion,  Smith  was  in  it.  As  they  went 
over  the  parapet  with  the  cheer  that  the  Germans  have 
learned  to  know  and  dread,  Smith  was  well  up  in  the 
van.  He  did  his  part  with  an  enthusiasm  that  was  a 
credit  to  his  brigade.  An  officer  passing  through  a  cap- 
tured trench  found  Smith  in  a  quandary  with  three 
prisoners  backed  up  against  the  wall.  "Come  along" 
cried  the  officer,  "leave  those  men  for  somebody  else." 
An  hour  later  Jock  walked  into  the  dressing  station 
wounded.  "Well,  what  is  the  matter  with  you?"  said 

187 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

the  M.O.,  looking  up  from  his  work  of  bandaging  the 
wounded.  "I  think  am  hit,  Doctor,"  he  answered,  and 
he  was,  for  a  great  chunk  of  flesh  had  actually  been 
blown  out  of  his  thigh. 

About  that  time  the  officer  of  the  trench  episode 
came  in  with  a  couple  of  bullet  wounds.  Catching 
sight  of  Smith  he  said,  "Hello  Smith!  Where  did  you 
leave  those  prisoners?"  "Dinna  ye  ask  foolish  ques- 
tions," was  the  reply,  and  nothing  more  could  be  got 
from  Jock. 

Smith  submitted  to  the  surgical  dressing  without 
a  murmur,  and  was  laid  out  on  a  stretcher  to  await  the 
ambulance.  Finally  it  came. 

"Here,  take  Smith,"  ordered  the  M.O. 

uNo,  never  mind  me,  Doctor,"  said  Smith,  ujist 
tak  the  ither  men,  I'll  be  walking." 

"Do  as  you  are  told,"  commanded  the  M.O. 

"Now  Doctor,  jist  pit  the  ither  boys  in;  they're 
worse  nor  me,  I'll  walk." 

"Damn  your  eyes,"  snapped  the  Doctor,  "don't  be 
a  fool ;  get  in  there,"  and  in  spite  of  his  earnest  protests 
Smith  was  hoisted  into  the  ambulance  to  leave  the  fir- 
ing line  for  all  time. 


188 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

PARIS  IN  WAR  TIME. 

EARLY  in  March,  1916,  a  telegram  arrived  ap- 
pointing me  representative  of  Canada  on  the  War 
Allies'  Sanitary  Commission.  This  Commission,  which 
had  been  formed  for  the  purpose  of  mutual  assistance 
and  co-operation  in  matters  of  hygiene  and  sanitation, 
was  to  meet  in  Paris  in  the  middle  of  March.  It  was  a 
splendid  opportunity  to  meet  some  of  the  great  medi- 
cal men  and  scientists  of  the  Allies,  and  during  the  few 
days  before  the  congress  met  I  gathered  together  all 
the  data  that  I  thought  might  be  of  use,  as  well  as  plans 
and  photographs. 

It  was  a  bright  spring  day  when  I  left  by  motor  for 
Paris  via  Amiens.  We  stopped  at  Merville  to  call  upon 
my  old  French  friends  whom  I  had  not  seen  since  my 
leave  in  Canada,  and  distributed  a  number  of  presents 
which  had  been  sent  to  them  from  home  by  my  family. 
They  were  greatly  pleased  at  having  been  remembered 
by  their  Canadian  friends,  for  the  French  have  a  real 
regard  for  us. 

As  we  bowled  along  over  hill  and  valley,  through 
the  sector  occupied  by  the  British  Army,  freed  of  all 
responsibilities,  we  felt  as  though  we  were  off  for  a 
holiday.  The  area  as  far  as  Amiens  had  recently  been 
taken  over  by  the  British  and  we  were  surprised  to  find 
that  there  were  no  British  troops  in  that  town  excepting 
a  few  officers.  It  had,  for  good  and  sufficient  reasons, 

189 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

been  placed  "out  of  bounds."  Amiens  was  a  real  city, 
the  first  that  we  had  seen  in  the  north  of  France;  it  had 
wide  paved  streets,  broad  boulevards,  double  street  car 
lines,  electric  lighting  and  all  the  things  that  go  to  make 
up  a  modern  city  in  any  country. 

The  road  from  Amiens  to  Beuvais  led  away  from 
the  front  and  all  evidences  of  military  operations  dis- 
appeared. The  country  in  that  region  was  rolling, 
well  tilled  and  well  wooded.  Numerous  quaint  little 
villages,  each  one  different  in  character  from  the  other, 
nestled  in  the  shelter  of  the  valleys.  At  one  place  we 
stopped  to  pick  the  mistletoe  from  a  row  of  apple  trees 
that  were  simply  covered  with  the  green  parasite ;  while 
we  watched,  away  to  the  west,  a  gorgeous  sunset  flame 
and  die.  It  was  the  finishing  touch  to  a  day  that  had 
been  almost  perfect,  and  we  tumbled  into  bed  at  the 
Hotel  de  TAngleterre  in  the  ancient  city  of  Beuvais  to 
sleep  the  sound  sleep  induced  by  fresh  air  and  sunshine 
in  those  who  have  not  been  accustomed  to  it. 

Next  morning  at  ten  o'clock  we  set  out  for  Paris, 
and,  crossing  the  Oise  at  the  point  where  the  British 
had  blown  up  the  bridge  during  their  retreat  from 
Mons,  reached  the  gate  of  St.  Denis  in  the  walls  of  Paris 
at  noon.  Although  every  pedestrian  and  wagon  driver 
was  being  stopped  and  made  to  show  passes  we  were 
asked  no  questions. 

Paris  seemed  cleaner  than  ever  in  the  spring  sun- 
shine and  I  was  more  than  ever  captivated  by  the 
beauty  of  her  buildings.  The  street  market  of  St.  Denis 
was  thronged  with  women  and  had  a  fair  sprinking  of 
bearded  French  soldiers.  Even  at  that  early  date  quite 

190 


PARIS  IN  WAR  TIME 

a  number  of  men  were  seen  hobbling  about  in  civilian 
clothes  with  service  medals  on  their  coats.  We  saw 
many  Belgian  soldiers  but  British  soldiers  were  entirely 
absent,  for  Paris,  too,  was  "out  of  bounds"  to  the  British 
army.  The  very  few  men  of  military  age  seen  was  re- 
markable compared  with  London,  and  though  the  great 
battle  of  the  war,  Verdun,  was  then  at  its  very  height 
not  sixty  miles  away,  Paris,  as  far  as  we  could  judge, 
was  not  at  all  worried. 

At  night  the  city  was  brightly  illuminated  till  nine 
o'clock;  then  the  lights  were  lowered.  Even  at  mid- 
night the  streets  were  light  enough  to  see  to  get  about. 
Paris  had  little  fear  of  Zeppelins;  they  had  made 
several  attempts  to  reach  the  city  but  had  failed  in  all 
exept  one  raid.  The  establishment  of  listening  posts 
and  other  devices  near  the  front  for  detecting  the  ap- 
proach of  the  airships  made  it  a  simple  matter  to  pre- 
pare plans  to  intercept  them  and  give  them  a  warm 
reception,  for  it  takes  a  fairly  long  time  for  a  Zeppelin 
to  reach  Paris  after  it  enters  French  territory.  A  few 
weeks  before  our  arrival  French  anti-air-craft  guns  and 
search-lights  mounted  on  motor  lorries  had  pursued 
and  brought  down  a  Zeppelin  and  the  Huns  had  pro- 
bably decided  that  the  game  was  not  worth  the  candle. 

Paris,  therefore,  freed  from  worry  from  this 
source,  went  its  usual  way  at  night  and  crowds  thronged 
the  Montmartre  district,  the  quarter  inhabited  by  the 
student  and  demi-monde  class.  Most  of  the  theatres 
were  in  that  quarter,  and,  although  the  majority  of  the 
regular  playhouses  were  closed,  the  picture  shows  and 


191 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

music  halls,  such  as  the  "Folies  Bergeres"  were  crowded 
nightly. 

There  were  two  performances  a  week  in  the  Grand 
Opera  House,  consisting  of  acts  from  different  operas. 
The  "Comedie  Francaise"  the  Government  endowed 
theatre,  still  gave  performances  at  regular  intervals, 
which  in  perfection  of  acting  were,  as  always,  un- 
equalled anywhere  in  the  world. 

The  Opera  Comique  also  gave  grand  opera  on  Sun- 
day afternoons,  and  the  one  performance  that  I  was 
fortunate  enough  to  see — Carmen — was  the  most  per- 
fect production  of  grand  opera  that  I  have  ever  seen  or 
heard.  From  the  standpoint  of  the  critic  I  could  find 
no  flaw,  and  though  Carmen  is  not  a  favorite  of  mine, 
I  revelled  in  the  perfection  of  staging,  acting  and  sing- 
ing of  this  performance.  The  street  and  mob  scenes 
were  so  realistic  that  one  forgot  that  they  were  not  real 
street  scenes ;  the  acting  of  the  singers  was  so  fine  that 
one  was  carried  away  by  it  and  forgot  all  about  the 
wooden  acting  of  grand  opera  customary  in  America 
and  England ;  and  it  was  only  when  the  curtain  finally 
rang  down  that  one  realized  that  the  flawless  perfor- 
mance had  been  but  a  play. 

The  restaurants  on  the  Rue  des  Italiens,  near  the 
Place  de  L'Opera  in  the  Montmartre  district  were 
thronged  with  people.  The  weather  was  warm  enough 
for  the  crowds  to  sit  at  the  tables  under  the  awnings 
in  front  of  cafes  and  sip  their  wine  or  coffee,  and  there 
I  spent  many  a  half  hour  after  my  evening  lesson  in 
French,  watching  the  crowds  surging  up  and  down  the 
broad  sidewalk. 

192 


PARIS  IN  WAR  TIME 

Men  were  scarce  in  Paris,  particularly  men  of  mili- 
tary age.  A  few  "Poilus"  home  on  leave,  and  a  number 
of  Belgians,  with  a  sprinking  of  other  soldiers,  were 
the  only  evidences  of  war.  The  men  seen  were  practic- 
ally all  over  the  military  age.  It  was  the  golden  age 
for  the  "has  been";  the  old  man  had  again  come  into 
his  own. 

The  girl  of  the  demi-mondaine  was  having  a  hard 
time  of  it  in  Paris.  There  was  no  travelling  public 
such  as  usually  thronged  Paris  in  search  of  pleasure 
and  excitement  and  upon  which  she  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  batten.  She  was  therefore  forced  to  take  up 
with  an  older  and  often  inferior  class  of  men  which  she 
would  have  scorned  in  times  of  peace. 

Rumour  said  that  many  of  these  women  were  starv- 
ing, and  judging  by  the  voracious  manner  in  which  they 
tackled  pedestrians  openly  on  the  streets  at  night  there 
was  ample  ground  for  that  belief.  Men  were  followed 
and  grabbed  by  the  arm  who  had  no  intention  or  desire 
to  make  or  receive  any  overtures. 

It  was  so  different  to  what  one  had  heard  of  the 
French  women  of  the  street  that  it  came  as  a  great  reve- 
lation of  how  the  times  were  out  of  joint,  and  how  diffi- 
cult it  really  must  have  been  for  such  people  to  obtain 
the  money  necessary  to  live.  One  would  have  expected 
cruder  things  in  London  but  such  was  not  the  case, 
though  there  is  this  difference  that  solicitation  is  not 
permitted  on  the  streets  of  London  while  it  is  in  Paris. 

Official  Paris  allows  the  people  within  its  gates  to 
do  as  they  like  in  matters  of  morals  without  let  or  hin- 
drance. And  so  the  "Petite  Parisienne"  whose  man 

193 
14 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

had  gone  to  the  war  and  perhaps  had  been  killed,  took 
to  the  streets  again  in  search  of  another,  and  was  forced 
to  take  up  with  men  she  would  have  despised  in  other 
times. 

English  speaking  people  have  no  idea  of  the 
Parisian  viewpoint  on  questions  of  morality;  in  fact 
our  view  points  are  so  diametrically  opposed  to  one 
another  that  we  have  no  common  ground  for  discussion. 
The  average  Parisienne  of  the  street  is  not  immoral ;  she 
is  unmoral,  that  is  to  say  she  has  no  morals  because  she 
never  did  have  any.  She  has  been  accustomed  to  look 
upon  herself  as  a  commodity  of  barter  and  trade  and  we 
cannot  in  fairness  judge  her  as  we  judge  women  who 
have  been  brought  up  to  other  ideals. 

As  I  sat  sipping  my  coffee  one  evening  one  of  these 
women  leaned  across  the  aisle  and  entered  into  conver- 
sation. As  she  rattled  away  a  poorly-clad  child  selling 
bunches  of  violets  approached  and  looking  at  me  placed 
a  bouquet  on  the  table  beside  me.  Mechanically  I  put 
my  hand  into  my  pocket  for  a  penny,  but  by  the  time 
I  had  found  it  to  my  surprise  the  child  had  passed  on. 
The  woman  stared  at  me  and  at  the  retreating  child  and 
asked,  "What  did  she  do  that  for?" 

"Perhaps  because  I  smiled  at  her,"  I  said. 

The  woman  asked  no  more  questions  but  got  up  and 
walked  away;  the  child's  action  had  touched  her  as  it 
had  touched  me  and  I  like  to  remember  that  on  four 
different  occasions  little  French  children,  strangers  to 
me  had  given  me  in  this  same  sweet  way  flowers  that 
they  might  have  sold. 

The  English  soldier  was  popular  in  Paris.     Be- 

194 


PARIS  IN  WAR  TIME 

fore  the  city  had  been  put  out  of  bounds  for  the  British 
Army  it  had  been  a  favorite  resort  of  men  and  officers, 
who  had  made  a  great  reputation  with  the  Parisians  for 
being  courteous,  kind  and  liberal.  The  Belgians  on  the 
other  hand  were  quite  unpopular,  being  openly  called 
"dirty  Belgians"  and,  judging  from  my  own  personal 
observation,  there  was  a  certain  amount  of  reason  for 
this  disrespect. 

Towards  nine  o'clock,  when  the  lights  were  low- 
ered, the  genuine  Parisian  who  had  been  dining  in  the 
cafes  began  to  go  home,  as  did  the  successful  women 
and  their  consorts,  causing  the  crowds  to  become  per- 
ceptibly thinner.  Those  women  who  had  not  been  suc- 
cessful, redoubled  their  efforts,  and  it  was  really  pathe- 
tic to  see  the  attempts  of  some  of  these  poor  outcasts 
who  were  little  more  than  children,  to  capture  their 
prey. 

At  midnight  the  Place  de  L'Opera  was  absolutely 
deserted.  On  two  occasions  I  watched  this  strange  fas- 
cinating panorama  of  human  life  and  emotion,  forget- 
ful of  the  time,  and  found  myself  quite  alone  there  as 
the  clock  struck  the  midnight  hour.  Alone  I  watched 
the  moonlight  streaming  down  upon  the  Grand  Opera 
house  transforming  it  into  the  purest  marble. 

I  wondered  whether  it  was  all  a  dream.  Could 
it  be  really  true  that  I  was  there  in  Paris  in  the  middle 
of  the  great  war?  Was  it  possible  that  the  greatest 
battle  of  all  time  was  taking  place  at  the  very  moment 
not  sixty  miles  away?  Yet  it  was  a  real  "Bon  soir" 
that  a  passing  gendarme  gave  me  as  I  strolled  home- 
ward past  the  great  bronze  shaft  erected  by  Napoleon 

195 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

in  the  Place  Vendome  and  now  towering  black  in  the 
white  moonlight,  while  the  river  Seine  shimmered  like 
molten  silver  in  its  way  to  the  sea.  It  was  really  true 
but  it  was  one  of  those  times  when  a  soldier  in  Europe 
finds  it  very  difficult  to  accommodate  himself  to  the  vio- 
lent contrasts  which  he  is  constantly  meeting,  when 
transferred  suddenly  from  the  war  zone  back  into  the 
peaceful  life  of  the  civilian. 

The  quiet  and  dignified  Hotel  Lotti  on  the  Place 
Vendome  was  described  in  the  guide  books  as  frequented 
by  the  French  nobility  and  the  aristocracy;  the  claim 
proved  to  be  correct  for  when  I  was  there  two  French 
countesses,  an  English  knight  and  a  Duke  had  apart- 
ments there.  The  Hotel  Lotti  is  next  door  to  the  Hotel 
Continental  and  is  owned  by  the  former  manager  of  that 
Hotel.  Both  the  Hotel  Continental  and  the  Meurice 
across  the  road  are  supposed  to  be  particularly  fine  and 
"splashy." 

Shortly  after  we  came,  the  Prince  of  Serbia  arrived 
in  Paris  and  stayed  at  the  Hotel  Continental.  At  the 
same  time  representatives  of  all  the  allied  governments 
arrived  and  stayed  at  one  or  other  of  these  hotels.  There 
was  a  guard  of  Serbian  soldiers  always  at  the  entrance 
to  the  Continental  as  well  as  a  crowd  of  onlookers  which 
sometimes  swelled  to  tremendous  proportions.  The 
newspapers  chronicled  the  movements  of  the  Serbian 
prince  and  when  it  was  announced  that  he  was  to  leave 
the  hotel  the  traffic  on  the  street  was  blocked  with 
cheering  crowds. 

If  I  heard  the  Marseillaise  sung  once  I  heard  it 
sung  twenty  times  by  the  throng  on  the  street  below  my 

196 


PARIS  IN  WAR  TIME 

windows,  for  the  Prince  of  Serbia  was  the  symbol  to 
France  of  that  brave  people  whose  valour  had  won 
for  themselves  immortal  renown  and  had  captured  the 
imagination  of  the  French  people.  The  French  are 
certainly  a  nation  of  hero  worshippers  and  though  they 
no  longer  recognize  an  official  nobility  they  do  dearly 
love  a  title. 

The  same  kind  of  demonstrations  took  place  when 
Lord  Kitchener  and  Asquith  drove  through  the  streets. 
Everywhere  they  went  the  roads  were  lined  with  the 
dark  blue  uniforms  of  the  national  guard,  the  gen- 
darmes and  some  of  the  territorials  in  their  light  blue 
service  dress. 

Then  French  soldiers  lining  the  route  across  the 
Place  de  la  Concorde  on  the  day  when  we  drew  up  to 
see  Lord  Kitchener,  Mr.  Asquith,  General  Cadorna  of 
Italy  and  other  foreign  representatives  pass,  looked 
small  and  insignificant  in  their,  to  us,  sloppy  uniforms; 
yet  those  were  of  the  race  "who  had  threshed  the  men 
and  kissed  the  women  of  all  Europe" — the  soldier, 
which  through  all  the  centuries  since  the  time  of 
Julius  Caesar,  had  shown  the  most  consistent  fighting 
ability  of  any  nation  in  Europe.  Their  soldiers  at 
that  very  moment  were  fighting  for  their  very  exis- 
tence and  week  after  week  were  pouring  out  their  best 
blood  in  torrents  on  the  battlefield  of  Verdun,  demon- 
strating to  the  world  the  possession  of  qualities  which 
we  had  prided  ourselves  belonged  to  the  Teutonic  races 
and  particularly  to  Britons, — the  quality  of  "sticking 


it." 


They  are  a  wonderful  people,  the  French,  marvel- 

197 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

lous  in  their  spirit  of  self  sacrifice.  The  French  woman 
does  not  weep  when  her  son  or  husband  goes  to  war. 
No,  he  goes  to  serve  "La  Patrie"  that  word  for  which 
we  have  no  synonym,  the  something  which  is  greater 
than  everything  else,  for  which  all  must  be  sacrificed 
with  joy.  France  is  a  name  to  conjure  with;  it  is  an 
ideal  as  well  as  a  country,  for  it  embodies  all  that 
Frenchmen  have  fought  and  died  for  in  all  the  cen- 
turies. 

Paris  had  never  before  seemed  half  so  clean,  but 
this  is  the  impression  that  you  always  get  when  you 
return  to  it.  Perhaps  it  was  the  contrast  with  the  filthy, 
muddy  streets  of  the  little  northern  villages  in  the  war 
zone, — streets  traversed  daily  by  hundreds  of  motor 
lorries  and  thousands  of  men  each  of  whom  brings  in, 
from  the  surrounding  country,  a  certain  amount  of  dirt. 

On  Sunday  morning  towards  eleven  o'clock  the 
great  avenue — Le  Bois — leading  towards  St.  Cloud,  was 
crowded  with  the  better  class  of  Parisians,  all  wending 
their  way  to  the  woods  and  parks  for  the  day.  They 
were  there  in  tens  of  thousands,  on  foot  and  in  taxis,  and 
very  frequently  carrying  lunch  baskets. 

Never  does  one  see  such  a  smartly  dressed  crowd  of 
women  as  one  sees  in  Paris.  No  matter  what  the  com- 
bination of  colour,  no  matter  what  the  style,  they  look 
well,  for  they  have  the  national  gift  of  knowing  how  to 
wear  their  clothes.  Even  the  widows  in  mourning, 
and  there  were  many  of  them,  looked  most  interesting. 
French  women  have  a  grace  of  carriage  and  know  how 
to  walk,  which  is  in  striking  contrast  to  the  majority  of 
English,  Canadian  or  American  women.  It  is  the 

198 


PARIS  IN  WAR  TIME 

ensemble  which  gives  the  Parisienne  that  air  of  distinc- 
tion which  is  so  characteristic. 

The  children  were  dressed  in  the  styles  which  are 
usually  seen  only  in  the  fashion  plates  and  as  much 
pride  and  thought  was  evidently  spent  upon  them  as  on 
the  dress  of  the  mothers  themselves.  The  French 
children  in  Paris  are  particularly  well  behaved  and 
obedient. 

The  trees  in  Le  Bois  were  just  bursting  into  leaf  on 
that  first  Sunday  of  mid  March.  The  rented  boats  on 
the  little  lakes  were  filled  with  young  boys  and  their 
sweethearts,  and  they  splashed  up  and  down  and  ran 
into  each  other,  and  made  much  noise  after  the  mannei 
of  people  of  that  age  under  similar  circumstances  the 
world  over. 

Crossing  the  Seine  we  ascended  the  hill  to  the  race 
course  of  St.  Cloud,  from  which  a  magnificent  view  of 
Paris  is  obtainable.  It  was  a  splendid  situation  for  the 
French  Canadian  hospital  established  there  under  the 
command  of  Lt.-Col.  Mignault  of  Montreal. 

The  French  authorities  did  not  want  the  wounded 
from  Verdun  to  come  to  the  Paris  hospitals,  for  it  might 
depress  the  people  too  much.  So,  though  Verdun  was 
at  its  height,  no  wounded  were  seen  in  Paris  and  the 
hospitals  in  fact  were  almost  empty  at  the  time.  And  as 
the  Parisians  did  not  see  any  evidence  of  great  losses 
through  the  presence  of  wounded,  it  was  quite  natural 
to  conclude  that  there  could  not  be  many  wounded.  If 
not  why  worry,  for  the  newspapers  were  full  of  the 
tremendous  casualties  inflicted  on  the  enemy?  The 
French  army  must  be  very  good  to  be  able  to  hold  the 

199 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

German  back  like  that,  must  it  not?  So  Paris  was  op- 
timistic and  the  wounded  went  elsewhere  to  the  country 
where  it  was  said  the  air  was  much  better  than  in  a 
large  city  like  Paris. 

The  French  Canadian  hospital,  however,  was  not 
going  to  be  done  out  of  the  work  that  they  had  come 
so  far  to  do,  and  demanded  patients.  As  the  hospital  was 
situated  in  the  suburbs  (where  the  air  was  presumably 
good)  permission  was  granted  and  it  was  filled  with 
wounded  from  Verdun  on  the  following  day. 

Though  not  fully  completed  when  I  saw  it,  the 
hospital  was  in  running  order.  It  consisted  of  a  series 
of  wooden  huts  arranged  in  the  area  behind  the  grand 
stand,  and  had  just  enough  shade  trees  around  to  shelter 
the  huts  partially  from  the  sun.  It  was  always  a  mar- 
vel to  me  to  see  soldiers  recovering  from  what  have 
always  been  considered  to  be  fatal  wounds.  I  saw  one 
man  that  day  at  St.  Cloud  who  had  been  shot  through 
the  centre  of  the  forehead  two  days  before  at  Verdun, 
the  bullet  coming  out  of  the  top  of  his  head,  and  leaving 
the  brain  exposed.  The  man  was  sitting  up  in  bed  read- 
ing and  when  the  wet  dressing  was  raised  by  the  surgeon 
one  could  see  the  brain  pulsating. 

Of  the  meetings  of  the  War  Allies1  Sanitary  Com- 
mission there  is  little  to  be  said  because  they  were  of  a 
technical  nature,  and  chiefly  of  interest  to  scientists. 
The  first  meeting  was  held  on  March  the  15th  and  one 
was  held  thereafter  every  afternoon  for  the  next  three 
weeks,  with  the  exception  of  Sundays.  About  thirty- 
five  delegates  were  present  altogether,  representing  the 


200 


PARIS  IN  WAR  TIME 

civilian,  naval  and  military  services  of  Russia,  Italy, 
Serbia,  France,  Belgium  and  Great  Britain. 

At  each  session  some  subject  on  sanitation  was  dis- 
cussed according  to  a  program  decided  upon  the  pre- 
vious day.  Some  countries  had  already  had  experiences 
with  certain  epidemics,  which  were  quite  unknown  as 
yet  to  the  other  allied  countries;  in  such  a  case  the 
experience  gained  by  one  country  in  devising  ways  and 
means  of  stamping  out  an  epidemic  would  be  of  great 
interest  and  practical  value  to  the  other  countries. 

A  striking  example  of  this  was  the  experience  of 
Serbia  with  typhus  fever.  Typhus  is  conveyed  from 
man  to  man  through  the  bites  of  lice  infected  through 
biting  some  one  who  already  has  the  disease.  Serbia 
had  had  a  tremendous  epidemic  of  the  disease  both  in 
the  army  and  in  the  civilian  population,  and  had  had 
to  resort  to  all  kinds  of  improvised  means  of  control- 
ling lice  when  their  regular  disinfecting  apparatus  had 
been  lost  or  destroyed  during  their  retreat.  Naturally 
the  experience  of  Serbia  was  of  the  greatest  interest  to 
all  the  other  armies  which  were  also  lice-infected  but 
had  had  no  typhus  fever  as  yet. 

All  the  discussions  were  conducted  in  French,  and 
curious  to  relate  the  non-French  Allies  understood  one 
another  more  readily  if  possible  than  they  did  the 
French  themselves,  largely  due  to  the  fact  that  the  latter 
talked  so  rapidly.  Many  scientists  of  great  note  were 
present,  among  them  being  M.  Roux  who  had  succeed- 
ed M.  Pasteur  as  chief  of  the  Pasteur  Institute  in  Paris. 
He  was  by  far  the  easiest  speaker  of  all  to  follow, — 
so  easy  in  fact  that  I  constantly  congratulated  myself 

201 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

on  my  knowledge  of  French  when  he  was  speaking, 
only  to  sadly  admit  when  the  next  Frenchman  began 
that  I  had  still  a  long,  long  way  to  go. 

Every  morning  the  five  of  us  who  were  represen- 
tatives of  the  British  army,  Australia  and  Canada,  met 
and  drafted  our  joint  report  of  the  previous  day's  meet- 
ing for  submission  to  our  respective  governments  when 
the  Congress  would  be  over;  many  days  of  labor  were 
thereby  saved  since  the  report  was  complete  when  the 
meetings  ended.  This  used  up  the  mornings,  and  the 
regular  meetings  took  up  the  afternoons  till  five  o'clock. 
Every  evening  I  took  a  lesson  in  French  conversation 
so  that  there  was  not  much  time  for  sight  seeing  even 
if  there  had  been  anything  to  see.  It  was  in  reality 
three  weeks  of  hard  work  yet  I  managed  to  see  quite  a 
bit  of  Paris  and  of  what  was  going  on  in  our  spare  half 
hours  and  the  two  or  three  half  days  during  which  no 
meetings  were  held. 

Some  of  the  delegates  were  very  remarkable  men. 
The  Frenchmen  were  all  scientists  of  note.  One  of  the 
Serbian  delegates  had  been  continuously  in  the  battle 
field  for  four  years  and  was  thoroughly  tired  of  war. 
He  was  a  handsome  and  very  interesting  man.  In  fact 
all  the  Serbs  whom  I  saw  in  Paris  were  big,  fine-look- 
ing men. 

The  chief  Russian  delegate  was  a  prince,  a  lieuten- 
ant-general of  cavalry,  and  a  wonderfully  well  in- 
formed scientist.  Though  a  man  over  sixty  years  of  age 
and  without  a  medical  degree,  he  seemed  to  be  perfect- 
ly informed  in  every  question  relating  to  bacteriology, 
chemistry,  sanitation  and  medicine  and  would  put  the 

202 


PARIS  IN  WAR  TIME 

average  notable  medical  officer  of  health  to  shame.  He 
was  to  all  of  us  a  perfect  marvel.  He  spoke  English 
and  French  fluently  and  had  the  keenest  sense  of 
humour  of  any  member  of  the  congress,  constantly  en- 
livening the  proceedings  by  his  witty  and  humerous 
remarks. 

One  day  the  Commission  visited  the  French  store- 
houses in  Paris,  where  all  the  drugs,  medical  and  sani- 
tary supplies  for  the  French  army  were  kept.  Some- 
thing of  the  magnitude  of  the  war  being  conducted  by 
the  French  could  be  gauged  by  the  enormous  ware- 
houses, packed  to  the  roof  with  medical  supplies  for  the 
army. 

We  also  visited  the  series  of  wooden  buildings  being 
erected  to  house  the  Red  Cross  supplies  sent  to  France 
as  gifts  from  other  countries.  The  Canadian  building 
was  the  only  one  completed  and  stocked  and  we  were 
shown  that  as  a  sample  of  the  others;  all  the  French 
representatives  were  very  careful  to  explain  to  me  in- 
dividually that  Canada  had  been  very  good  and  more 
than  kind  in  remembering  France. 

The  Russian' Prince,  who  objected  strenuously  to 
this  trip,  vented  his  satire  during  the  whole  of  the  after- 
noon. We  would,  perhaps  be  ushered  into  a  huge  ware- 
house packed  with  wooden  boxes  to  the  ceiling,  when 
the  Prince  would  adjust  his  eyeglasses  and  looking  them 
over  with  a  comprehensive  sweep  of  his  hand  say  to  me, 
for  we  travelled  together  that  day, —  "Ah,  yes,  boxes! 
how  very  interesting!  do  you  know,  Colonel,  nothing 
gives  me  greater  pleasure  than  spending  the  afternoon 
looking  at  piles  of  boxes?"  Each  syllable  was  so  clear- 

203 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

ly  and  distinctly  enunciated  that  the  simplest  remark 
made  by  this  born  comedian  of  a  Prince  was  perfectly 
delightful,  and  we  had  a  joyous  afternoon  together. 

Pasteur  is  a  name  reverenced  by  one  and  all  in 
France.  The  first  question  asked  when  you  are  intro- 
duced as  a  scientist  to  Frenchmen  is,  "Do  you  know 
our  Pasteur  and  his  work?"  and  when  you  reply  in  the 
affirmative  they  beam  on  you  and  look  as  if  they  wanted 
to  kiss  you. 

The  Pasteur  Institute  was  devoted  entirely  to 
putting  up  the  various  sera,  vaccines  and  other  mater- 
ial required  by  the  army  in  the  field.  We  were  shown 
over  the  Institute  by  M.  Roux,  the  Director.  The  rever- 
ence with  which  each  foreign  delegate  removed  his 
hat  as  he  approached  the  rooms  where  Pasteur  had 
lived  and  worked  was  most  impressive  to  the  resident  of 
a  country  where  there  was  little  reverence  for  anything 
in  the  way  of  ability  of  any  sort  except  that  for  making 
money.  Pasteur  is  buried  in  a  mausoleum  in  the  Insti- 
tute and  numerous  tributes  from  societies  and  great  men 
the  world  over  testify  to  the  esteem  in  which  he  was  held 
by  the  thinking  portion  of  the  world. 

One  particularly  interesting  feature  of  the  work 
of  the  Institute  was  the  manufacture  of  a  certain  poison 
for  rats  in  the  trenches.  Rats  are  a  great  nuisance  and 
a  possible  source  of  plague  to  the  armies  in  the  field. 
In  the  Autumn  the  rats  come  into  the  trenches  where 
there  is  an  abundance  of  waste  food,  and  are  particu- 
larly numerous  where  there  is  lots  of  water  near  which 
they  like  to  breed. 

The  method  used   to  kill  them  is  quite  ingen- 

204 


PARIS  IN  WAR  TIME 

ious.  The  rats  are  fed  at  a  certain  time  every 
day  for  about  ten  days,  at  the  end  of  which  they  will 
come  in  large  numbers  almost  on  the  minute.  The 
poisoned  food  is  then  placed  for  them  and  a  large  pro- 
portion of  the  rats  are  destroyed.  Where  poison  has 
once  been  tried  it  is  useless  to  make  any  further  attempts 
with  the  same  poison  for  a  long  time  to  come,  for  the 
rats  will  refuse  to  touch  it.  The  wholesale  method  out- 
lined has  been  found  in  practise  by  the  French  to  give 
the  best  results. 

Our  trip  to  the  French  front  in  the  Champagne  was 
interesting.  Leaving  the  station  one  morning  at  eight 
we  arrived  at  Chalons-sur-Marne  about  eleven  and 
visited  a  couple  of  hospitals  there.  The  hospitals  were 
well  equipped,  and  some  of  the  surgical  devices  in  use 
were  new  and  exceedingly  ingenious. 

The  most  vivid  impression  which  remains  of  those 
French  hospitals,  however,  was  the  lack  of  fresh  air 
in  them ;  seldom  have  I  breathed  a  more  vitiated  atmos- 
phere. Though  it  was  a  warm,  pleasant  day  outside, 
every  window  in  the  hospital  was  closed  tight. 

It  is  another  indication  of  the  strong  scientific  con- 
tradictions sometimes  met  with.  Though,  in  theory, 
the  French  are  most  excellent  sanitarians  and  as  a 
country  revere  the  name  of  Pasteur,  while  we  have  for- 
gotten, if  we  ever  did  know,  the  name  of  Lister,  in  prac- 
tice they  are  about  as  poor  a  nation  in  practical  sani- 
tation as  it  is  possible  to  be.  Imagine  a  hospital,  thor- 
oughly equipped  and  clean  as  a  new  pin,  with  such  bad 
air  that  one  of  our  party  fainted  and  another  had  to 
leave  in  a  hurry  to  escape  the  same  fate. 

205 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

After  an  excellent  lunch  at  the  town  hotel  we  left 
by  motors  and  char-a-banc  for  the  field  hospitals. 
The  drive  of  some  twelve  miles  was  made  over  the 
chalk  plains  of  the  Champagne  and  the  dense  clouds 
of  white  dust,  raised  by  the  cars  ahead,  half  smothered 
us.  The  only  trees  on  this  rolling  country  were  scrub 
evergreens  and  only  enough  of  these  had  been  left  for 
cover,  the  rest  having  been  cut  for  stakes,  and  pit  props. 
Through  these  bits  of  woods  and  across  the  open  country 
ran  the  numerous  white  ditches  used  for  reserve 
trenches. 

The  field  hospitals  themselves  were  as  fine  as  I 
have  ever  seen  in  equipment  and  appearance.  They 
consisted  of  series  of  huts,  well  laid  qut  and  with  walks 
planted  with  trees  and  shrubs  from  the  surrounding 
country.  That  was  the  artistic  touch  that  made  French 
field  hospitals  look  better  than  the  British  hospitals. 
Wells  had  been  sunk  for  hundreds  of  feet  in  the  chalk, 
pumping  engines  installed,  and  disinfection  chambers 
and  baths  built  with  a  capacity  of  a  thousand  men  a 
day. 

While  there  we  saw  German  aeroplanes  being 
shelled  and  were  much  interested  to  note  that  the  anti- 
air-craft  fire  of  the  French  gunners  was  just  as  bad  as 
that  of  the  British. 

On  our  return  we  visited  a  French  mobile  labora- 
tory at  Chalons,  and  were  much  struck  by  their  method 
of  running  it;  like  our  own  Canadian  laboratory  they 
carried  all  their  equipment  in  boxes  which  were  con- 
veyed by  a  single  motor  lorry. 

We  arrived  in  Paris  at  midnight  tired  and  sleepy  to 

206 


PARIS  IN  WAR  TIME 

find  my  trusty  "Rad"  waiting  for  me,  and  we  drove 
home  a  load  of  thankful  friends,  while  the  rest  of  the 
delegates  searched  in  vain  for  taxis  which  were  unob- 
tainable at  that  time  of  night. 

A  small  item  appearing  in  the  Parisian  journals  on 
the  following  day  made  us  think.  It  read,  "Chalons- 
sur-Marne  bombed  by  aeroplanes."  Whether  the 
aeroplanes  that  we  had  seen  being  shelled  had  carried 
back  word  that  an  expedition  of  some  sort  had 
been  seen  coming  and  going  from  Chalons  in  a 
large  number  of  motors  and  whether  they  had  sus- 
pected that  it  was  the  congress  including  Lord  Kit- 
chener, Mr.  Asquith,  General  Cadorna  and  others  will 
never  be  known ;  the  fact  seemed  to  be  that  Chalons  had 
never  been  bombed  before  our  visit. 

The  saddest  and  at  the  same  time  the  most  inspiring 
sight  that  it  was  my  privilege  to  see  in  Paris  or  during 
the  whole  war  was  during  our  visit  to  the  institutes  for 
the  maimed  and  blinded  soldiers. 

The  institute  for  the  maimed  had  for  its  purpose 
the  starting  out  in  life  afresh  men  who  had  lost  arms  and 
legs  in  battle.  The  French  are  at  the  bottom  an  ex- 
ceedingly practical  people  even  if  they  do  not  appreci- 
ate fresh  air  as  they  might.  They  discovered  very 
quickly  that  the  first  thing  necessary  in  the  treatment 
of  disabled  soldiers  after  they  were  ready  to  leave  the 
hospitals  was  to  make  them  realize  that  they  were  still 
valuable  and  useful  members  of  society.  To  this  end 
the  soldier  was  fitted  out  with  the  best  mechanical 
appliances  in  the  way  of  wooden  arms  and  legs  that  it 
was  possible  to  give  him;  and  it  was  characteristic  of 

207 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

the  French  people  that  they  had  these  artificial  limbs 
made  by  the  disabled  soldiers  themselves.  This  saved 
the  labor  of  able  bodied  men  and  gave  interesting  and 
necessary  work  to  the  disabled  soldiers. 

The  trades  being  taught  were  basket  making,  brush 
making,  piano  tuning,  draughting,  typewriting,  tailor- 
ing, tinsmithing  and  so  forth;  while  classes  in  reading, 
writing  and  other  subjects  were  held  for  those  who  were 
deficient  in  these  requirements,  and  anxious  to  learn. 
And  here  the  astounding  observation  was  made  that  in 
certain  cases  uneducated  men  have  been  able  to  learn 
more  in  six  months  than  the  average  child  learns  in  as 
many  years.  In  such  cases  the  individual  has  an  extraor- 
dinary power  of  assimilation  and  simply  "eats  up" 
everything  put  before  him.  The  maimed  men  were  all 
happy  and  smoked  and  sang  at  their  work.  They  were 
heroes  still. 

The  school  for  the  blind  was,  in  some  ways,  of  quite 
a  different  character.  At  the  time  of  our  visit  there  were 
about  350  soldiers  in  the  school,  learning  to  be  self- 
reliant  and  useful  citizens.  Naturally  it  is  a  much  more 
difficult  task  to  teach  a  blind  man  than  a  maimed  one 
that  he  is  still  a  valuable  asset  to  his  country  and  the 
first  weeks  in  the  Institute  are  frequently  devoted  to 
convincing  him  of  this  cardinal  fact.  When  he  has 
learned  to  dress  himself,  get  about  alone  and  begins  to 
learn  a  trade  he  becomes  convinced  of  this  truth  and 
the  victory  has  been  won.  For  the  appalling  future 
facing  him  of  a  life  in  total  darkness  dependent  on  a  wife 
or  parents  is  too  terrible  a  one  for  any  man  with  any 
self  respect.  Unless  new  hope  can  be  given  them  they 

208 


THE  CAMOUFLAGE. 

Anti-aircraft  artillery  disguised  against  enemy  observers  flying  above. 


PARIS  IN  WAR  TIME 

face  the  prospect  of  becoming  drunkards,  beggars  and 
parasites  on  society.  And  the  principle  underlying  all 
this  work,  is  to  make  the  blind  man  feel  that  he  is  yet  a 
self-reliant,  valuable  citizen  of  "La  Belle  France." 

How  it  is  working  out  a  glance  at  the  men  in  the 
various  buildings  clearly  showed.  Here  was  one  group 
of  men  wearing  smoked  glasses  feverishly  manufactur- 
ing brushes ;  as  they  worked  they  whistled.  In  the  next 
room  another  group  was  mending  the  seats  of  rattaned 
chairs;  in  the  next  they  were  making  raffia  baskets;  in 
the  next  willow  baskets,  chairs  and  tables.  Another  lot 
was  learning  to  set  type  for  books  for  the  blind ;  others 
were  learning  typewriting,  piano-tuning,  barrel  making 
and  boot  repairing. 

Perhaps  the  most  interesting  of  all  were  the  men 
learning  to  be  professional  masseurs :  This  is  a  partic- 
ularly suitable  profession  for  the  blind  because  it  de- 
pends for  its  success  altogether  on  the  sense  of  feeling, 
and  these  chaps  rubbed  and  manipulated  each  other's 
muscles  and  joints  in  the  most  approved  expert  style, 
using  one  another  as  patients.  Some  of  the  blind  gra- 
duate masseurs  were  already  practising  their  profes- 
sion in  Paris. 

One  recent  arrival  was  being  conducted  about  the 
garden  by  one  of  the  white  clad  nurses,  who  was  evi- 
dently trying  to  comfort  him  in  some  of  his  bad  mo- 
ments. The  poor  chap  looked  heart  broken  and  one 
felt,  even  though  dimly,  something  of  his  Gethsemane 
as  he  realized  that  the  glory  of  the  sun  and  all  the 
beauties  of  nature  were  no  more  for  him, — that  before 
him  was  only  night  eternal.  Yet  a  moment  afterwards 

209 
15 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

when  the  supper  bell  rang  the  rattle  of  canes  on  the 
walks  and  the  sound  of  scores  of  men  whistling  and  sing- 
ing as  they  came  from  all  the  buildings  round  about 
proved  most  convincingly  that  hundreds  of  others  had 
gone  through  this  same  struggle  and  had  come  out  vic- 
torious. 

My  visit  to  the  Institute  for  the  blinded  soldiers 
was  to  me  the  most  inspiring  experience  that  I  had  in 
France,  strange  as  that  statement  may  sound,  for  it 
showed  more  conclusively  than  war  itself  the  infinite 
capacity  for  courage  that  exists  in  almost  every  man. 
Yet  the  sights  that  we  saw — so  terribly  pathetic — made 
one  realize  as  never  before  the  truth  of  the  epigram 
"War  is  hell." 

When  we  again  passed  through  the  gates  of  St. 
Denis  on  our  way  towards  our  "home"  in  the  field,  it 
was  a  sunny  day  and  all  the  fruit  trees  were  in  full 
bloom,  making  a  broad  belt  of  white  for  three  or  four 
miles  around  Paris.  With  the  exception  of  a  stop  at 
the  cathedral  of  Amiens  to  see  the  wonderful  old 
stained  glass  windows,  unequalled  by  any  in  Great  Bri- 
tain, we  travelled  steadily  all  day  without  incident  and 
reached  our  little  home  town  near  the  Belgian  border 
by  five  o'clock  to  find  that  all  was  well. 


210 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

TABLE  TALK  AT  A  FLANDERS  MESS. 

44 T  OOK  Out,"  warned  the  Colonel  as  they  stumbled 
J-^  along  the  Rue  de  la  Gare,  "there's  a  hole  some- 
where about  here."  The  Canadian  officers  passed  gin- 
gerly on  feeling  their  way  down  the  inky  street.  A 
Zeppelin  had  been  over  the  night  before  and  the  light- 
ing regulations  were  being  strictly  enforced. 

Suddenly  the  Captain  stopped,  passed  his  hand 
along  a  brick  wall,  gave  a  pull  at  a  wire,  and  a  gong 
on  the  inside  rang  like  a  fire  alarm. 

"How  in  the  dickens  you  can  see  in  this  darkness 
beats  me,"  said  the  Colonel.  "You  must  have  eyes  like 
a  French  cat." 

The  door  was  opened  by  Bittleson,  and  the  three 
officers  entered  and  walked  along  the  dimly  lit,  tiled 
hall  into  a  room  at  the  far  end. 

"Home,  Sweet  Home,"  said  the  Colonel  looking 
around  the  room.  "It  is  the  nearest  thing  we  can  get 
to  it  anyway,  worse  luck."  They  all  threw  their  British 
warms  and  caps  onto  a  large  chair,  flung  their  sam- 
brown  belts  on  top  of  them  and  picking  out  their  own 
respective  easy  chairs  drew  up  before  the  fire,  which 
was  burning  brightly  in  the  French  grate  stove  in  the 
corner  of  the  mess  room,  formerly  the  dining  room  of 
Madame  Deswaerts.  The  whole  side  of  the  room 
facing  the  rose  garden  and  pigeon  cots  was  glassed  in 
and  the  two  huge  French  windows  were,  no  doubt,  a 

211 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

pleasant  feature  in  the  summer  time;  at  present  they 
admitted  a  great  deal  of  the  cold,  damp  air  from  out- 
side. 

"Rawson,"  called  the  Colonel.  Rawson  a  little 
black-haired  Jew,  the  Doctor's  batman  and  tempor- 
ary mess  cook,  entered. 

"Yessir,"  said  Rawson. 

"Put  some  more  coal  on  that  fire;  it's  as  cold  as 
hell  in  here,"  grumbled  the  Colonel. 

The  fire  was  duly  replenished  while  the  Colonel 
took  a  cigarette  from  his  case  and  opened  his  "By- 
stander." 

"Do  you  know  how  to  cook  that  canned  aspara- 
gus?" asked  the  Colonel  as  Rawson  turned  to  leave  the 
room. 

"No  Sir,"  said  Rawson. 

"Well  how  do  you  think  you  would  cook  it?"  asked 
the  Colonel. 

This  was  a  poser;  Rawson  was  evidently  non- 
plussed. 

"Would  you  boil  it,  Sir?"  he  ventured  when  the 
silence  had  become  oppressive. 

"You  guessed  right,"  and  the  Colonel  deftly  flick- 
ed a  burned  match  up  behind  a  picture  of  the  local 
cure.  "What  would  you  do  with  the  tough  part  of  the 
stalks?" 

"I  dunno,  Sir."     Rawson  was  stumped  again. 

"Have  you  ever  eaten  asparagus?"  asked  the 
Colonel. 

"No,  Sir,"  said  Rawson,  "but  I've  seen  it  in  the 
stores." 

212 


TABLE  TALK  AT  A  FLANDERS  MESS 

"Well,  go  and  boil  it  for  five  minutes  with  some 
salt,"  ordered  the  Colonel,  "and  then  serve  dinner." 

"Yessir,"  said  Rawson,  retiring  to  the  kitchen. 

"It  beats  hell,"  fussed  the  Colonel,  "how  ignorant 
that  boy  is;  he  hasn't  a  single  ray  of  intelligence;  he 
carries  on  just  like  a  trained  monkey;  he  never  thinks, 


never." 


"Yes,  he  does, "contradicted  the  Captain  lookingup 
from  a  New  York  Journal  received  that  day,  "I  actual- 
ly saw  him  thinking  yesterday;  I  could  almost  see  the 
wheels  going  around ;  in  fact,  I  imagined  I  could  hear 
them  grating,  so  seldom  had  they  been  used.  It  was 
really  one  of  the  most  fascinating  things  I  ever  saw;  you 
couldn't  describe  it  but  you  could  act  it.  The  Doc.  saw 
it  too.  Wasn't  it  funny,  Doc.?" 

"It  was  a  marvel,"  said  the  Doctor.  "I  have  al- 
ways classed  Rawson  as  belonging  to  the  palaeolithic 
age  and  imagined  the  missing  link  to  have  about  the 
same  brain  capacity  as  he  has;  since  our  experience  yes- 
terday I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  Rawson  is 
a  'throw  back'  and  had  normal  ancestry.  This  is  more 
apparent  when  we  know  he  is  never  savage  but  on  the 
contrary  very  gentle." 

The  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  entrance 
of  Bittleson,  the  Colonel's  batman.  Bittleson  had  been 
deposed  from  his  position  as  cook  two  days  before  for 
being  dirty  and  careless.  He  now  came  forward  with 
his  cap  on  his  head  and  saluted  as  only  Bittleson  could 
salute. 

"Beg  pardon,  Sir,"  he  hesitated  with  a  depreca- 
tory smile,  pointing  with  his  thumb  to  the  kitchen 

213 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

door,  "but  Rawson  aint  really  up  to  cooking  stuff  like 
this  here  sparrow  grass — not  yet.  P'raps  I  had  better 
take  a  holt." 

"All  right,"  agreed  the  Colonel,  "are  you  sure  you 
know  how  to  cook  it  yourself?" 

"Sure,"  answered  Bittleson  with  an  inflexion  that 
spoke  volumes  as  to  his  knowledge.  "Why  when  we 
was  at  Salisbury  - 

"Shut  up,"  commanded  the  Colonel  and  Bittleson 
respectfully  saluted  and  retired. 

When  the  dinner  was  served  we  waded  through 
our  passable  soup,  tough  roast  beef  with  "frits"  and 
waited  with  pleasant  anticipation  for  the  chef  d'ceuvre 
of  the  evening.  The  asparagus  duly  arrived  and  was 
placed  on  the  table  by  Bittleson  himself  with  some- 
thing of  a  flourish. 

"What  the  sam  hill  do  you  know  about  that!" 
said  the  disappointed  Captain  as  all  gazed  at  the  plate 
full  of  white  asparagus  butts, — as  hard  as  tent  pegs. 
The  tender  edible  portions  had  been  thrown  away.  The 
Colonel  turned  to  Bittleson  but  the  latter  was  too  quick 
for  him  and  had  already  made  a  strategic  retreat. 

"What  a  mess-president?"  said  the  Captain,  "Eh, 
what,  Doc.?" 

"Go  to  blazes,"  growled  the  Colonel,  "You  can't  get 
results  without  tools;  pass  the  coffee  pot."  And  they 
relapsed  into  silence  for  a  few  moments  as  they  severally 
speculated  on  the  number  of  Bittlesons  they  knew  of  in 
the  army — in  all  ranks. 

"Well,  I  wonder  how  long  this  blinking  war  is 


214 


TABLE  TALK  AT  A  FLANDERS  MESS 

going  to  last,"  queried  the  Colonel.  "No  signs  of  light 
on  the  horizon  yet;  Fritzy  is  some  sticker." 

"I  am  fed  up  with  the  whole  thing,"  returned  the 
Captain  snapping  his  cigarette  butt  viciously  into  a 
corner.  "What  are  we  out  here  for  anyway;  what  are 
we  fighting  for;  what  is  the  whole  bally  business  about; 
that  is  what  I  would  like  to  know?" 

"What  did  you  come  out  for?"  asked  the  Colonel 
"You  had  a  good  position  and  a  good  future  in  your  pro- 
fession over  in  the  States;  something  made  you  come; 
what  was  it?" 

"I  don't  know  what  it  was;  chiefly  a  desire  to  be 
in  the  game  and  not  be  a  quitter  I  guess;  I  hate  the 
idea  of  my  kids,  if  I  ever  have  any,  asking  me  what  I 
had  done  in  the  great  war.  I  went  up  to  Forbes  Bay 
to  play  golf  and  forget  the  war  and  suddenly  found  my- 
self buying  a  ticket  for  Valcartier  Camp  and  here  I 
am."  There  was  silence  for  a  minute.  "What  did  you 
come  out  for  Colonel?"  asked  the  Captain. 

"For  adventure,"  replied  the  Colonel.  "So  did 
everybody  else;  anybody  who  says  he  didn't  come  out 
here  for  some  such  reason  as  that  is  a  damned  liar; 
don't  you  think  so  Doc.?" 

"I  don't  think  I  did  for  one,"  responded  the  Doc., 
"but  I  wouldn't  be  sure;  I  had  every  inducement  to 
stay  home  if  any  man  had,  congenial  work,  interesting 
hobbies,  the  finest  woman  in  the  world,  and  I  hate  the 
military  game;  I  guess  there  were  lots  of  others  like 
myself." 

"Well,  what  in  thunder  did  you  come  for;  what 
was  the  big  idea?"  demanded  the  Colonel. 

215 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

"The  big  idea  in  my  case  was  that  I  thought  I 
might  be  of  some  use  in  keeping  our  men  efficient, 
in  other  words  'service/  "  said  the  Doc.  "What  is 
more,  that  is  what  you  and  the  Cap.  both  came  for  if 
you  would  only  admit  it." 

"Piffle,"  snapper  the  Colonel. 

"It  isn't  piffle,  it's  the  truth,"  asserted  the  Doc. 
"Why  do  you  feel  sore  now  because  other  fellows  you 
know  haven't  come  out?  If  love  of  adventure  brought 
you,  there  is  no  reason  for  feeling  crusty  because  your 
friends  haven't  the  same  love  of  adventure  that  you 
have.  Let  them  stay  at  home  and  mind  their  own  busi- 
ness if  they  want  to  and  can't  see  things  as  we  do." 

"Yes,  but  it's  different  now  to  what  it  was  at  first. 
Everybody  knows  we  are  in  this  fight  to  the  death,— 
that  if  we  are  licked  it  is  'good-night'!"  said  the 
Colonel. 

"You  can't  convince  them  of  that  in  England— 
not  all  at  once,"  argued  the  Cap.     "The  newspapers 
still  construe  every  local  success  into  a  great  victory, 
the  great  mass  of  the  people  think  the  war  will  be  over 
in  the  autumn,  and  the  strikers  still  strike!" 

"Well,  if  they  don't  see  the  desperate  nature  of 
the  affair  in  England  how  can  you  expect  them  to  re- 
alize it  in  Canada?"  questioned  the  Doc.  "England 
has  air  raids,  bombardment  of  her  coast  towns  by 
German  raiders,  ships  sunk  by  submarines  and  all  the 
evidences  of  a  nearby  war.  Of  course  she  thinks  she 
has  the  money  and  that  money  will  win.  I  guess  Ger- 
many hasn't  much  real  money  but  she  carries  on  pretty 
well  without  it" 

216 


TABLE  TALK  AT  A  FLANDERS  MESS 

"She  is  like  America  in  that  respect  in  regard  to 
money — thinks  that  the  last  dollar  will  win,"  answered 
the  Cap.  "It  won't,  its  the  last  big  army  in  the  field  that 
can  strike  at  a  vital  point  that  will  win  this  war." 

"That  takes  money,"  said  the  Colonel. 

"Yes,  but  hang  it!"  countered  the  Cap.,  "Germany 
can  print  money  and  keep  on  paying;  as  long  as  the 
war  lasts  paper  money  will  be  honored;  it  has  to  be  if 
the  Government  says  so.  Only  when  the  end  comes 
and  there  is  no  gold  to  honor  the  paper  will  the  crash 
come:  Germany  hopes  to  be  in  the  position  to  obtain 
compensation  when  the  war  ends.  I  believe  that  Ger- 
many is  deliberately  trying  to  ruin  the  Allies  and  par- 
ticularly England  by  causing  them  to  make  tremendous 
expenditures  in  gold,  which  is  the  only  thing  neutrals 
will  honour ;  then  when  we  are  weakened  in  both  men 
and  money  she  hopes  to  get  in  her  knock-out!" 

"As  a  secondary  consideration  she  may  be  trying  to 
ruin  England  because  she  has  failed  to  get  in  the 
knock-out  blow;  that  is  more  likely,"  reasoned  the 
Colonel.  "She  has  tried  hard  enough  to  give  the 
knock-out  both  in  the  first  rush  to  Paris,  at  Ypres,  at 
Verdun,  at  the  battle  of  Jutland,  and  by  her  Zep  and 
submarine  campaigns.  Hitherto  she  has  failed.  Now  I 
believe  she  is  carrying  on  in  the  hope  that  we  will  be- 
come exhausted  and  quit;  they  don't  know  the  English." 

"Neither  does  anybody  else,"  said  the  Cap.  angrily, 
"they  don't  know  themselves.  They  laughed  at  Lord 
Roberts  and  nearly  crucified  him:  they  laughed  at  the 
German  navy,  at  Zeppelins,  at  subs  and  at  poison  gas, 
and  they  paid  no  attention  to  Sir  William  Ramsay 

217 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

for  kicking  against  American  cotton  going  into  Ger- 
many to  make  explosives  to  be  used  against  us.  Now 
they  are  having  a  great  laugh  at  Pemberton  Billings 
because  he  says  the  air  service  is  rotten  and  advocates 
the  building  of  thousands  of  aeroplanes  wherewith  to 
swamp  the  Germans  with  bombs.  When  he  talks  in 
Parliament,  they  get  up  and  walk  out  of  the  house. 
That  is  typical  of  the  English  people  as  a  race;  they 
are  so  intolerant  and  so  d — conservative  that  even  in 
questions  of  life  and  death  they  won't  learn.  The  aero- 
plane is  a  new  brand  of  the  service  and  therefore  they 
won't  take  it  seriously  and  they  say  Billings  is  just  a 
blatherskite.  But  you  know  and  I  know  that  when 
sixty  planes  went  over  the  German  lines  the  other  night 
they  played  havoc  with  certain  cantonments.  If  so  why 
will  not  ten  or  twenty  times  as  many  planes  accomplish 
ten  or  twenty  times  as  much?  It  is  simply  a  problem 
in  mathematics.  But  will  Englishmen  see  that?  Not 
much.  'Muddle  through'  is  their  national  motto  and 
they  are  proud  of  it.  Thank  God  the  Germans  are 
just  as  stupid.  If  it  was  the  United  States  they  wouldn't 
play  the  fool  in  regard  to  new  ideas,  believe  me." 

"Rubbish,"  retorted  the  Colonel,  firing  up  at  the 
mention  of  the  United  States,  "There  is  a  nation  with 
no  sand ;  she  hasn't  even  got  gumption  enough  to  know 
that  other  people  are  fighting  her  battles  for  her.  She 
has  a  three-for-a-cent  war  on  with  Mexico  and  she  can't 
raise  50,000  voluntary  troops,  while  Villa  sticks  his 
fingers  to  his  nose  at  them.  Their  only  aeroplane  was 
brought  down  by  a  Mexican  revolver  bullet;  their  fleet 


218 


TABLE  TALK  AT  A  FLANDERS  MESS 

is  a  joke;  they  are  the  greatest  bunch  of  bunco  steerers 
in  the  world  to-day!" 

"Don't  you  believe  it,"  replied  the  Cap.  with  de- 
liberation, "I  have  lived  in  the  U.S.  for  several  years 
and  I  think  I  know  the  people.  They  have  the  makings 
of  a  wonderful  nation.  They  are  keen  as  mustard  and 
without  silly  antique  prejudices  inherited  from  the 
middle  ages.  It  is  true,  as  a  nation,  they  have  some- 
thing of  a  swelled  head.  But  give  them  a  chance ;  they 
will  come  up  to  the  scratch  some  day;  mark  my  words." 

"Dollars!  Dollars!  Dollars!  that  is  the  American 
God,"  continued  the  Colonel,  "like  the  children  of 
Israel  they  worship  the  golden  calf;  they  have  no  other 
ideal  than  to  become  rich,  buy  automobiles  and  'put  it 
over'  the  other  fellows.  The  Germans  spit  in  their  faces 
every  day  and  they  say  'business  is  business'  and  take  it. 
The  Germans  sink  the  Lusitania  and  the  President  sends 
a  note  advising  them  to  be  more  careful  in  future  and 
so  it  goes.  Why,  any  decent  man  will  strike  back  when 
he  is  struck  by  a  filthy  swine;  even  a  worm  will  turn." 

"He  couldn't,"  objected  the  Cap. 

"Why  couldn't  he,"  returned  the  Colonel.  "What's 
the  matter  with  him?  Is  he  a  jelly  fish?" 

"Because  he  is  the  chief  engineer  of  the  nation," 
explained  the  Cap.  "He  is  head  of  a  nation  that  is 
a  conglomerate;  it  isn't  yet  fused;  it  contains  fifteen 
to  twenty  millions  of  people  of  German  origin.  It 
is  like  running  an  express  train.  As  long  as  the 
track  is  straight  and  the  levers  are  left  alone  the 
engine  will  keep  the  tracks  if  he  can  keep  his  hand  on 
the  throttle  and  observe  the  signals.  There  are  some 

219 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

bad  signals  up  in  the  States.  It  is  overrun  with  spies 
who  know  everything;  the  navy  is  in  bad  shape;  the 
Mexican  affair  is  on;  they  are  nervous  about  Japan  and 
they  have  no  army.  With  a  publicity  bureau  such  as 
the  Germans  have,  controlling  many  newspapers  and 
magazines,  the  enemy  can  do  a  tremendous  lot  to  alien- 
ate public  sympathy  from  the  allied  cause,  and  until 
America  is  touched  in  the  quick  there  will  be  no  de- 
mand for  a  change  of  conditions." 

"Then  the  President  should  lead  public  opinion," 
announced  the  Colonel. 

"Yes,  and  bring  down  the  wrath  of  the  enemy  upon 
him;  just  give  him  time;  he  hasn't  got  that  jaw  for 
nothing;  he  knows  history;  his  opportunity  will  come 
and  he  will  rise  to  it.  Don't  you  think  so  Doc.?" 

"I  don't  know,"  said  the  Doc.  "I  used  to  think 
he  had  tremendous  reserve  power;  now  I'm  not  so  sure. 
The  President,  in  my  opinion,  made  his  great  mistake 
when  he  failed  to  make  a  dignified  protest  on  behalf 
of  the  violation  of  Belgium's  neutrality.  The  U.S. 
stood  for  great  things  in  the  world;  she  was  the  ideal 
of  the  smaller  nations  to  whom  she  was  the  personifica- 
tion of  Liberty.  She  fell  down  and  to-day  even  France 
shakes  her  head  or  smiles  behind  her  hand  when  the 
name  of  the  United  States  is  mentioned.  Yet,  I  feel 
that  we  cannot  judge  because  we  don't  know  all  the 
facts.  The  best  men  in  the  United  States  are  with 
us  heart  and  soul;  they  feel  disgraced  and  degraded 
individually  and  as  a  nation  because  they  are  forced  to 
eat  dirt;  they  want  to  go  to  war  for  they  realize  the 
European  situation.  Yet,  we  can't  tell  what  is  going 

220 


TABLE  TALK  AT  A  FLANDERS  MESS 

on  behind  the  scenes  in  the  United  States;  we  don't 
know  all  facts;  the  cards  are  not  all  on  the  table.  If 
we  knew  what  President  Wilson  knows,  we  might 
judge,  but  we  don't.  For  all  we  know  Great  Britain 
and  the  other  Allies  may  want  America  to  keep  out. 
The  Japanese  question  may  be  a  very  ticklish  one. 
We  don't  know  and  therefore  we  can't  judge;  that  is 
my  opinion." 

"What  is  the  feeling  over  there  anyway?"  asked 
the  Captain. 

"It  was  hard  to  determine,"  said  the  Doc.  "Ap- 
parently everything  was  going  on  as  usual  in  New 
York.  The  editorials  of  papers  like  the  New  York 
Tribune  and  Times  were  absolutely  the  finest  I  have 
ever  seen  showing  why  the  United  States  should  be  in 
this  war.  On  the  other  hand  the  Hearst  papers  and 
many  others  were  antagonistic;  the  middle  West  at 
least  is  pro-German,  and  the  South  is  an  unknown 
quantity.  I  met  many  thinking  men  who  used  to  be 
very  favorable  to  the  President  but  who  now  curse  him 
and  his  typewriter.  Many  business  men  had  signs 
hung  over  their  desks  (Nix  on  the  war.'  They  are  dif- 
ferent from  English  people  who  through  their  press 
are  leading  the  politicians  and  forcing  the  authorities 
to  more  strenuous  action.  The  United  States  on  the 
contrary  seemed  to  be  willing  to  place  all  responsibility 
on  the  shoulders  of  the  President  and  follow  him. 
Meanwhile,  he  senses  public  opinion  and  plays  golf. 
He  has  more  power  than  any  man  in  the  world  to-day, 
far  more." 

"And  you  really  think  they  will  finally  come  in?" 
asked  the  Colonel.  221 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

"I  think  they  will  have  to ;  there  will  be  no  choice," 
answered  the  Doc.  "If  they  would  only  realize  that 
the  British  fleet  is  the  only  thing  standing  between  them 
and  Germany  they  would  become  panicked.  But  they 
don't  and  while  the  British  fleet  protects  them  from  the 
Prussian — who  is  out  for  world  domination — they  soak 
the  British  hundreds  of  per  cent,  profit  on  supplies.  It 
is  really  very  funny  if  you  can  see  it  from  the  humor- 
ous standpoint." 

"It  seems  pretty  rotten  to  me,"  said  the  Colonel, 
"for  a  nation  to  take  everything  and  give  nothing,  while 
others  fight  for  it." 

"They  don't  know  anything  about  Europe;  they 
don't,  as  a  nation,  know  what  the  war  is  about.  As  far 
as  that  goes  we  have  nothing  to  swank  about  in  Can- 
ada!" said  the  Doc. 

"Canada  has  realized  her  responsibilities,  any- 
way," put  in  the  Colonel. 

"Just  exactly  what  she  has  not,"  contradicted 
the  Doc.,  in  turn  waxing  wroth.  "What  have  we  done 
anyway?  Put  four  divisions  in  the  field,  of  which 
two-thirds  were  born  in  Great  Britain.  We  have  some- 
where about  nine  million  people  in  Canada;  we  should 
get  12  per  cent,  of  that  number  under  a  system  of  na- 
tional service,  that  is  nearly  1,100,000  men.  They  say 
we  have  recruited  about  300,000  for  service  abroad. 
It  isn't  as  if  the  rest  were  mobilized  for  war  purposes— 
they  are  not.  There  is  not  even  a  home  guard.  There 
are  tens  of  thousands  of  men  around  the  streets  of  To- 
ronto to-day  who  should  be  at  war;  I  know  a  lot  of 
them  personally  and  they  haven't  'bad  hearts'  either, 

222 


TABLE  TALK  AT  A  FLANDERS  MESS 

or  dependent  mothers.  They  are  just  rotters,  nothing 
else." 

"Some  of  them  who  work  for  Red  Cross  one  day  in 
six  months,  throw  out  their  chests  and  tell  you  they 
are  (doing  their  bit'  at  home.  I  saw  red  all  the  time 
I  was  back  and  a  lot  of  them  felt  very  uneasy  when 
they  met  me.  When  I  see  these  chaps  here  tramping 
in  and  out  of  the  trenches  day  after  day  and  think  of 
those  spineless  blighters  at  home  it  makes  me  sick." 

"Ottawa  has  no  backbone.  It  hasn't  nerve  enough 
to  do  anything.  Quebec  holds  the  whip  hand  and 
Quebec  is  anti-war.  And  so  the  political  game 
goes  on  while  Canadian  profiteers  make  barrels  of 
money — blood  money — out  of  munitions  and  food- 
stuffs. We  make  the  most  of  what  we  have  done  but 
I  believe  that  Canada's  effort  is  a  disgrace." 

"Well  what  would  you  have?"  questioned  the 
Colonel,  "Canada  has  to  produce  food  for  the  Allies; 
she  has  to  carry  on ;  she  could  easily  be  ruined  by  con- 
scripting all  her  men  for  active  service." 

"Nobody  suggests  that  all  her  men  be  conscripted 
for  active  service,"  said  the  Doc.  "What  is  needed  is 
that  every  man  should  be  working  for  the  Empire. 
Whether  it  is  in  growing  wheat,  making  munitions  or 
fighting,  makes  little  difference.  We  need  everybody 
working  for  the  common  cause.  There  are  plenty  of 
men  trying  to  sell  real  estate  to-day  who  should  be  out 
ploughing  land  for  wheat  to  keep  French  and  British 
soldiers  fit;  there  are  lots  of  chaps  who  cannot  fight 
or  plough  who  can  run  a  lathe  in  a  munitions  factory; 
there  are  plenty  of  women  who  could  replace  men  on 

223 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

farms;  every  woman  and  man  in  France  is  working. 
Why  should  not  Canada  be  doing  the  same?" 

"Its  quite  a  bit  different,"  argued  the  Cap.,  with  a 
wink  at  the  Colonel.  "After  all  if  Germany  won  out 
it  wouldn't  make  much  difference  to  Canada." 

"Wouldn't  it?"  demanded  the  Doc.,  hotly.  "That 
is  what  a  relative  of  mine  said  and  I  am  only  waiting 
for  an  opportunity  to  see  the  swine  and  tell  him  what 
I  think  of  him.  If  the  British  fleet  failed  to-day  do 
you  know  how  long  it  would  take  the  Germans  to  get 
over  to  Canada?  About  ten  days!  And  about  ten 
thousand  German  marines  with  a  couple  of  naval  guns 
would  make  Canada  throw  up  her  hands  as  fast  as  a 
footpad  would  an  old  lady  in  a  dark  lane.  I  would 
say  that  ten  high  explosive  shells  in  Quebec  and  about 
twenty  in  Montreal  would  do  the  trick.  That  follow- 
ed by  the  despatch  of  two  or  three  regiments  to  Ottawa 
would  settle  the  matter.  The  whole  thing  would  be 
too  ridiculous  for  words.  The  United  States  would 
mind  their  own  business  because  the  Monroe  doctrine 
would  avail  but  little  without  troops  to  back  it  up." 

"Then  what?"  asked  the  Colonel,  as  the  Doc.  stop- 
ped for  breath. 

"Canada  is  the  ideal  country  for  a  powerful  Ger- 
man colony.  I  honestly  believe  they  would  prefer 
Canada  with  all  its  latent  resources,  its  water  power, 
great  wheat  fields,  minerals  and  forest  wealth,  to  any 
spot  on  earth.  With  their  systematic  methods,  their 
thousands  of  trained  scientists  in  all  branches  of  in- 
dustry, their  tremendous  capacity  for  work  and  re- 
sourcefulness, they  would  take  a  hold  of  Canada  and 

224 


TABLE  TALK  AT  A  FLANDERS  MESS 

develop  it  in  a  way  that  would  startle  the  world.  Ger- 
many has  millions  of  surplus  population  that  she  would 
transfer  to  Canada  for  development  purposes.  She 
would  have  100  million  people  to  the  south  of  her  for 
a  market  and  in  ten  years  she  would  control  the  mar- 
kets of  the  whole  world.  That  is  the  German  dream 
and  there  is  only  one  thing  that  stands  in  the  way  of 
its  accomplishment,  only  one  thing." 

"The  British  fleet?"  asked  the  Cap. 

"The  British  fleet!"  repeated  the  Doc. 

"I  think  you  look  on  the  whole  thing  too  seri- 
ously," objected  the  Colonel.  "After  all  we  are  not  re- 
duced to  extremities  or  anything  like  it." 

"No  and  that  is  the  idea  of  every  other  conserva- 
tive man  in  the  British  Empire,"  said  the  Doc.  "They 
all  hope  that  something  will  turn  up  before  long,  and 
fail  to  consider  that  while  they  hope  the  German  works. 
Just  take  a  common  enough  example  of  how  the  devils 
do  work  in  comparison  to  ourselves.  You  remember 
those  trenches  that  we  lost  in  the  salient  for  several 
days  to  the  Germans.  Well  our  fellows  were  simply 
thunderstruck  when  we  took  them  back.  They  were 
remodelled,  strengthened  and  put  into  such  perfect 
shape  that  our  chaps  said  they  had  never  seen  a  real 
trench  before.  The  beggars  must  have  worked  twenty- 
four  hours  a  day  to  do  it.  Catch  our  fellows  doing 
anything  like  that." 

"What  good  did  it  do  them?  We  got  them  back," 
laughed  the  Colonel. 

"Yes,  and  did  you  notice  the  price  we  paid.  Every- 
thing we  got  from  them  we  pay  the  utmost  for;  they 

225 
16 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

extract  the  last  ounce  from  us;  and  so  it  will  go  on  to 
the  end.  If  they  work  twenty-four  hours  in  the  day 
we  will  have  to  do  the  same.  You  can't  help  taking 
your  hat  off  to  the  brutes." 

"Just  about  once  a  day,"  agreed  the  Cap. 

"Or  oftener,"  said  the  Colonel. 

"Well,  what  is  the  end  going  to  be?"  asked  the  Cap. 

"Personally,  I  don't  think  there  is  any  doubt  about 
us  winning  out  finally,  but  the  end  is  not  yet  in  sight. 
We  have  not  used  all  our  resources  yet  because  as  an 
Empire  we  have  not  felt  that  we  were  up  against  it 
hard.  But  the  British  are  coming  to  it  and  if  the  war 
lasts  long  enough  Great  Britain  will  be  rejuvenated. 
She  was  getting  pretty  rotten  before  the  war.  Suffer- 
ing is  chastening  her;  I  have  great  faith  in  that  for 
there  is  no  doubt  that  trials  and  suffering  strengthen  a 
nation  just  as  they  strengthen  individuals.  I  believe 
a  newer  and  greater  Britain  will  arise  out  of  the  ashes 
of  the  old.  There  will  be  many  problems  between 
capital  and  labor  to  work  out;  there  must  be  a  redistri- 
bution of  land;  people  will  have  to  work  much  harder 
than  they  have  ever  had  to  before.  But  to  five  millions 
of  men  in  the  army  of  the  British  Empire  a  man  has  be- 
come a  man  once  more.  When  men  stand  side 
by  side  in  the  trenches,  while  the  German  shells  play 
upon  them,  the  men  of  wealth,  or  education,  or  title 
realize  that  a  shell  does  not  discriminate  between  him 
and  the  workman  by  his  side.  The  soldier  knows  that 
the  only  thing  that  counts  is  whether  a  man  is  really  a 
man;  when  he  has  stood  before  his  maker  for  weeks 
at  a  time  in  the  front  line,  not  knowing  when  his  hour 

226 


TABLE  TALK  AT  A  FLANDERS  MESS 

would  strike,  he  realizes  that  there  arc  few  things  in 
life  that  really  count.  He  is  going  to  take  that  point 
of  view  back  with  him  into  civilian  life  and  he  is  going 
to  put  it  into  practice.  He  will  have  no  fear  of  anybody. 
He  will  want  to  make  a  comfortable  living  but  he  will 
not,  at  least  for  years  to  come,  adopt  the  old  ideas  that 
money  or  so-called  position  really  count.  Because  he 
knows  what  really  does  count;  he  has  had  the  greatest 
experiences  and  has  felt  the  most  tremendous  excitement 
that  can  come  to  a  man  in  Hfe  and  a  great  deal  of  what 
would  have  appealed  to  him  before  the  war  no  longer 
moves  him," 

"Therefore  I  believe  that  there  will  be  a  new  under- 
standing between  the  rich  and  the  poor;  between  the 
educated  and  the  ignorant.  There  will  be  a  new  idea 
of  public  service.  These  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
people  who  have  been  helping  in  Red  Cross  and  other 
service  work  will  not  go  back  to  the  old  careless  life, 
for  they  will  have  been  moulded  to  new  points  of  view 
and  a  new  sense  of  responsibility.  All  this,  of  course, 
pre-supposes  that  the  war  will  last  long  enough  so  that 
the  nation  as  a  nation  will  suffer.  The  profiteer  must  be 
shorn  of  his  ill  gotten  gains;  the  taxes  must  be  heavy 
enough  to  pinch  everybody;  the  necessity  to  save  in 
order  to  provide  for  others  must  come  home  to  every 
man,  woman  and  child.  Through  things  like  that  and 
the  suffering  which  has  come  and  will  come  to  relatives 
of  the  killed  and  wounded  the  nation  will  get  a  new  out- 
look on  life  and  a  healthy  one.  I  think  we  are  now  in 
the  dawning  of  a  new  era." 

"Sounds  like  a  book,"  commented  the  Colonel.  "Do 

227 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

you  really  believe  that  people  will  change?  Personally 
I  doubt  it" 

"I  think  so,"  reasoned  the  Doc.  "The  basis  of  all 
reform  is  education  and  the  world  is  certainly  under- 
going a  process  of  education  right  now  such  as  has  never 
been  known  in  history.  You  have  seen  how  quickly  a 
city  can  be  educated  by  going  about  it  properly  and  we 
all  know  that  the  point  of  view  of  the  world  has  under- 
gone a  tremendous  transformation  on  nearly  everything 
since  the  beginning  of  the  war." 

"Only  Canada  lags  about  two  years  behind.  She 
doesn't  know  that  a  war  is  on.  Far  from  here  she  pur- 
sues her  peaceful  way  quite  oblivious  of  the  war.  But 
the  very  fact  that  she  is  safe,  that  she  has  not  been  in- 
vaded, makes  her  moral  obligation  even  greater  than  if 
she  had  been,  because  she  is  free  to  develop  her  indus- 
tries normally  and  without  loss.  She  can  pay;  she  must 
pay.  Canada's  obligations  are  just  as  great  as  her  re- 
sources; no  more;  no  less.  That  is  the  viewpoint  that 
posterity  will  judge  her  by.  And  if  she  does  rise  to 
the  occasion  she  will  go  down  in  history  as  a  real  nation 
and  with  a  soul." 

"The  Doc.  is  right,"  agreed  the  Colonel. 

"You  bet,"  seconded  the  Cap.  "Some  speech  that 
-eh,  what?" 

There  was  a  ripping  sound  in  the  distance,  fol- 
lowed by  the  crash  of  an  exploding  shell.  In  the 
silence  that  followed  the  hum  of  an  approaching  plane 
could  be  heard.  "Bombs!"  warned  the  Colonel. 

Bittleson  appeared.  "Excuse  me,  Sir,  Madame 
Deswaerts  presents  her  compliments  and  says  would 

228 


TABLE  TALK  AT  A  FLANDERS  MESS 

the  gentlemen  please  come  down  into  the  cellar  till  the 
aeroplanes  pass  over?" 

"All  right  Bittleson,"  agreed  the  Colonel,  as  they 
got  up  and  strolled  cellarwards. 


229 


CHAPTER  XV. 

ON  THE  BELGIAN  BORDER. 

UPON  my  return  from  Canada,  while  waiting  in 
London  for  orders  to  proceed  to  France,  I  received 
a  telegram  to  appear  at  Buckingham  Palace  on  the  fol- 
lowing morning  at  10. 15.  The  taxi  drove  through  the 
outer  courtyard  to  the  inner  palace  entrance  and  my 
coat  and  hat  were  taken  charge  of  by  a  scarlet-coated 
attendant  who  gave  me  a  numbered  check  for  the  same. 

An  equerry-in-waiting  asked  me  what  my  decora- 
tion was  to  be,  and  he  showed  me  into  a  large  room  with 
an  immense  bay  window  from  which  a  splendid  view 
of  a  magnificent  park  could  be  seen.  The  bay  window 
was  divided  up  by  scarlet  ropes  into  several  sections, 
into  one  of  whch  I  was  ushered.  One  of  these  was  for 
the  C.B.'s,  and  contained  a  sole  occupant,  a  naval  officer. 
The  next  sections  were  for  the  C.M.G.'s,  the  next  for 
the  D.S.O.'s,  M.C.'s,  etc. 

There  were  eight  officers  in  our  section,  the  first 
six  being  generals.  An  attendant  then  came  and  placed 
a  hook  on  the  left  hand  side  of  our  tunics,  our  names 
were  checked  over  and  we  were  placed  in  order  accord- 
ing to  rank. 

When  everything  was  ready  the  great  doors  leading 
into  the  room  where  King  George  was  to  invest  us,  were 
swung  back  and  we  slowly  proceeded  towards  it.  The 
first  name  was  called  and  the  naval  officer  stepped  for- 
ward and  disappeared  into  the  room  beyond.  The  next 

230 


ON  THE  BELGIAN  BORDER 

officer,  Lord  Locke,  who  was  the  first  in  line  for  the 
C.M.G.  went  next,  and  so  they  proceeded  quickly  until 
my  turn  came. 

As  I  advanced  I  could  see  the  King  standing  about 
twenty  feet  in  front  of  a  large  window,  dressed  in  a 
morning  suit,  and  looking  exactly  like  his  pictures.  As 
he  hung  the  decoration  of  the  order  on  my  little  hook 
he  shook  hands  cordially  and  said  "I  am  glad  to  give 
you  the  C.M.G." 

Then  he  added,  "Have  you  been  with  my  army  in 
France?" 

I  replied,  "Yes,  sir,  with  the  first  army." 

"Have  you  been  out  there  long?"  he  queried. 

"I  have  been  there  for  eight  months,  was  re-called 
to  Canada  for  two  months,  and  am  now  on  my  way 
back,"  I  replied. 

He  nodded,  adding  something  I  did  not  catch, 
shook  hands  for  the  second  time,  and  repeated  as  though 
he  really  meant  it,  "I  am  very  glad  to  give  you  the 
C.M.G." 

I  backed  away  a  few  steps,  and  retired  by  another 
route,  feeling  that  this  was  the  simplest  and  easiest  or- 
deal I  had  ever  gone  through.  It  was  impossible  to 
make  a  mistake  even  if  you  had  tried  to  and  everybody 
was  kindness  and  courtesy  itself.  An  attendant  re- 
moved the  decoration,  placed  it  in  a  box  and  handed  it 
to  me;  another  attendant  handed  me  my  coat  and  cap 
and  I  left  the  palace.  "So  much  for  Buckingham  1" 

Soldiers  were  drilling  in  the  courtyard  and  guards 
sprang  to  attention  and  presented  arms  as  I  passed, 
while  a  policeman  hailed  a  taxi  for  me  in  which  I 

231 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

drove  to  St.  Paul's  to  see  the  most  beautiful  chapel 
there — that  of  uThe  most  distinguished  order  of  St. 
Michael  and  St.  George." 

As  I  drove  by  West  Sandling  camp  and  through 
Hythe  to  take  the  morning  packet  back  to  France  a 
cold  raw  wind  searched  my  very  bones.  The  channel 
was  rough  enough  to  make  the  windward  side  of  the 
deck  wet  and  unpleasant  and  the  officers  with  which 
the  boat  was  packed  huddled  into  their  trench  coats 
and  British  warms  trying  to  keep  out  the  cold.  The 
torpedo  boat  destroyers  threshed  about  hither  and  thi- 
ther in  smothers  of  spray  while  away  to  the  north  the 
mine  sweepers  stretched  across  from  shore  to  shore  in- 
tent upon  their  never-ending  search. 

It  was  rough  travelling  on  the  road  to  the  north 
next  day;  rain,  snow,  sleet  and  hail,  driven  by  a  stinging 
wind,  lashed  our  faces  during  the  whole  of  the  trip. 
En  route  we  called  at  General  Headquarters  and  Army 
Headquarters  to  report,  and  arrived  at  noon  in  the  little 
French  town  on  the  Belgian  border  which  was  the  new 
location  of  our  field  laboratory. 

The  Major  and  Captain  seemed  glad  to  see  me 
and  escorted  me  to  my  new  billet  near  the  railway  sta- 
tion ;  there  was  no  glass  in  the  windows  and  the  room 
was  very  cold.  The  officers  pointed  out  a  big  hole  in 
the  pavement  in  front  of  the  house,  made  the  day  before 
by  a  German  bomb.  The  bomb  had  killed  a  number 
of  horses  and  several  men  and  had  blown  the  glass  out 
of  all  the  windows  in  the  neighborhood.  But  the  Major 
assured  me  that  a  bomb  seldom  struck  twice  in  the 
same  place  and  that,  as  the  Bosches  were  after  the  rail- 

232 


ON  THE  BELGIAN  BORDER 

way  station  close  by  at  the  end  of  the  street,  the  safest 
place  was  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  the  station. 
As  this  sounded  quite  logical,  I  remained  at  the  billet 
until  summer  time,  though  I  never  noticed  any  great 
eagerness  on  the  part  of  my  two  officers  to  move  to  the 
vicinity  of  the  station  from  comfortable  billets  in  the 
centre  of  the  town. 

The  very  next  day  the  town  was  bombed  again 
and  one  "dud"  fell  in  our  back  yard. 

The  new  town  was  larger  than  our  old  one,  but 
very  uninteresting  and  very  dirty  in  the  winter  months. 
The  people  were  distinctly  rougher  in  dress,  appear- 
ance and  manners  than  those  in  France  farther  from  the 
Belgian  frontier,  differences  possibly  due  to  the  effects 
of  mixture  with  Flemish  blood.  The  surrounding 
country  was  rolling  and  much  prettier  than  that  around 
Merville  and  it  was  a  great  relief  to  be  able  to  rest  the 
eyes  with  the  diversities  of  a  rolling  landscape  instead 
of  constantly  looking  out  upon  a  deadly  monotonous 
level  country. 

The  headquarters  of  the  Canadian  corps  was  in 
the  town  and  the  Canadians  occupied  the  front  line  at, 
and  north  of,  Ploegsteert  wood,  opposite  the  Messines- 
Wytschaete  ridge. 

For  days  and  weeks  officers  and  men  kept  calling 
to  get  the  news  from  home  in  Canada,  particularly 
about  recruiting,  and  they  would  listen  as  long  as  I 
would  talk.  Favorite  questions  were :  "What  does  the 
corner  of  King  and  Yonge  streets  look  like?"  and  "How 
is  Tommy  Church?" 

Among  those  who  called  was  General  Mercer  to 

233 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

whom  I  had  brought  a  box  of  candy  from  one  of  his 
office  staff  in  Toronto  and  he  stayed  for  half  an  hour 
while  I  told  him  all  the  home  news.  We  dined  with  him 
that  night  and  had  a  very  pleasant  evening  with  his 
staff,  Lt.-Col.  Hayter,  Lt-Col.  McBrien,  Captain 
Gooderham,  Lt.  Cartwright;  the  General  was  very 
optimistic  as  to  the  final  result  of  the  war,  though  he 
felt  that  it  would  last  at  least  three  years  longer. 

Our  laboratory  was  now  located  in  a  school  which 
was  being  utilized  as  part  of  No.  2  British  casualty 
clearing  station  and  the  first  visit  I  made  to  this  hospi- 
tal was  to  see  an  old  school  friend,  Captain  Cole,  the 
medical  officer  of  the  Princess  Patricia's  who  was  there 
with  a  bullet  through  his  lungs.  The  very  first  day 
after  his  arrival  from  the  base  after  an  attack  of  pneu- 
monia he  was  caught  by  a  sniper.  He  made  an  uninter- 
rupted recovery  and  eventually  returned  to  active  ser- 
vice. 

The  British  Army  in  France  was  steadily  growing 
larger  and  troops  were  beginning  to  be  shifted  about 
to  give  place  to  new  divisions  coming  into  the  line  to 
train.  A  new  division  is  never  put  directly  into  the 
firing  line  and  given  a  section  of  front;  that  would 
be  too  risky.  The  new  division  is  billeted  in  the  area 
back  of  the  lines  and  is  gradually  brought  up  towards 
the  front.  The  infantry  is  put  into  the  reserve  and 
front  line  trenches  by  platoons  and  companies  and 
mixed  with  the  old-timers  who  know  all  the  ropes.  In 
this  way  the  new  comer  picks  up  the  routine  of  trench 
work  very  quickly,  and,  when  the  men  have  all  been 
broken  in,  the  division  gradually  takes  over  its  section 

234 


ON  THE  BELGIAN  BORDER 

of  front.  In  the  same  way  the  gunners  are  instructed  in 
practical  artillery  work  and  the  men  in  other  branches 
of  the  service  are  similarly  broken  in. 

There  were  rumours  that  the  Canadians  were 
again  to  move  on  to  the  historic  Ypres  salient  and  those 
of  the  old  brigade  were  not  looking  forward  to  it  with 
any  perceptible  amount  of  enthusiasm.  Ypres  had 
associations  which  a  whole  year  had  not  been  able  to 
eradicate.  Canadian  casualties  at  this  time  were  very 
slight;  in  fact  almost  nothing.  "Plugstreet"  was  sup- 
posed to  be  the  pleasantest  part  of  the  whole  line,  and 
to  those  who  had  been  to  Muskoka  it  seemed  very  much 
like  home,  for  there  were  log  houses  and  rustic  gates 
and  all  the  other  accessories  found  in  the  wild  play- 
grounds of  northern  Ontario. 

"Plugstreet"  was  an  easy  place  to  approach  since 
the  woods  prevented  observation  and  motor  cars  could 
get  right  up  into  the  woods  itself.  While  standing  in 
Ploegsteert  woods  by  the  car  one  day  I  heard  somebody 
singing  an  aria  from  Faust;  the  voice  was  magnificent 
and  evidently  that  of  a  highly  trained  singer  who  had 
sung  in  grand  opera;  I  listened  with  great  delight 
while  he  sang  with  the  utmost  abandon,  and  when  he 
stopped,  I  watched  for  the  owner  of  the  voice  to  step 
out  from  among  the  bushes.  The  songster  proved  to 
be  a  cook  preparing  the  evening  meal.  It  was  another 
example  of  the  cosmopolitan  nature  of  the  first  Cana- 
dian contingent,  which  had  in  its  ranks  men  of  every 
profession  and  walk  in  life. 

Life  was  at  this  time  becoming  very  monotonous 


235 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

for  our  men  in  the  trenches.  The  mail  was  the  one  great 
event  of  the  day. 

To  relieve  the  monotony  of  trench  life  all  sorts  of 
games  were  devised  to  pass  the  time.  One  unit  had  an 
intensely  exciting  morning  in  one  of  the  trenches — rac- 
ing frogs.  Two  frogs  had  by  mistake  hopped  into  the 
trench  and  were  captured.  Sides  were  formed  and  bets 
made  as  to  which  frog  would  reach  a  given  point  first. 
As  their  leaders  with  the  aid  of  straws  goaded  their 
respective  frogs  into  greater  activity,  the  woods  of 
Ploegsteert  fairly  rang  with  the  cheers  of  the  rival 
parties. 

Early  in  April  the  Canadians  again  found  them- 
selves in  the  Ypres  salient,  as  usual  alongside  the  Bri- 
tish guards.  At  St.  Eloi  they  had  had  casualties  amount- 
ing in  all  to  something  over  500. 

The  Australian  divisions  had  arrived  on  the  west- 
ern front,  and  two  of  them  came  into  our  area.  In 
length  of  limb  and  general  "ranginess"  they  greatly 
resembled  our  own  westerners,  and  walked  with  the 
freedom  bred  of  a  life  in  the  open.  Their  usual  ques- 
tion at  first  when  they  met  another  soldier  was,  "Have 
you  been  to  war  or  in  France?"  They  got  the  surprise 
of  their  lives  when  they  found  that  life  on  the  western 
front  was  far  more  strenuous  than  it  was  on  the  Galli- 
poli  peninsula. 

The  British  army  was  learning  by  hard  knocks 
how  to  do  things,  and  the  truth  of  the  old  saying  was 
constantly  borne  home  to  one  that  in  the  early  years  of 
any  great  war  England  paid  dearly  for  her  experience 
in  blood  and  treasure. 

236 


ON  THE  BELGIAN  BORDER 

The  Fokker  plane  had  "thrown  a  scare"  into  the 
air  service,  and  there  was  a  general  demand  on  the  part 
of  the  British  public  for  greater  efficiency.  As  a  new 
arm  of  the  service  it  was  not  considered  by  Whitehall 
with  the  seriousness  it  deserved;  only  the  men  who  saw 
planes  come  over,  hover  about,  and  were  in  consequence 
heavily  and  accurately  shelled  shortly  afterwards, 
realized  what  the  command  of  the  air  meant.  The  air 
tangle,  and  the  inadequacy  of  the  air  service  became 
such  a  scandal  that  Lord  Derby  and  Lord  Montague 
resigned  from  the  air  board  as  a  protest  against  the  way 
this  branch  of  the  service  was  being  bungled. 

As  a  matter  of  fact  the  Fokker  was  never  con- 
sidered, by  our  men,  to  be  a  very  wonderful  machine, 
and  we  quickly  evolved  types  that  were  superior  to  it 
in  every  respect. 

Nevertheless  these  were  bad  days  on  our  front,  and 
for  a  while  as  a  result  of  the  enemy's  air  superiority  we 
were  bombed  with  great  regularity.  At  Canadian 
corps  headquarters,  where  we  dined  with  Generals 
Alderson  and  Burstall  one  night  after  our  own  town 
had  been  bombed,  they  were  very  much  interested  as 
they  had  occupied  that  town  for  several  months,  and 
each  officer  wanted  to  know  whether  his  former  billet 
had  been  struck. 

The  same  night  German  planes  bombed  Canadian 
headquarters  fairly  heavily,  and  also  some  of  the  camps 
and  hospitals  (the  hospitals  were  all  marked  with  huge 
red  crosses  on  the  roof).  During  the  same  period  the 
enemy  shelled  towns,  camps  and  roads  far  back  from 
the  front  line  area,  making  life  in  the  war  area  on  the 

237 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

whole  very  uncertain  and  very  uncomfortable.  It  was 
necessary  to  visit  many  places  under  cover  of  darkness, 
so  accurate  was  the  German  observation  and  shell  fire 
during  the  day  time.* 

For  example :  one  Sunday  morning  we  travelled 
from  Armentieres  to  Ploegsteert  by  a  road  which  in 
spots  could  be  seen  from  the  German  lines,  though 
screened  by  green  canvas  at  such  places.  Just  before 
we  entered  Ploegsteert  village  we  were  in  full  view  of 
the  enemy  for  a  short  distance.  Instead  of  passing  right 
through  the  long  village  street  as  I  had  intended  we 
stopped  for  a  minute  to  look  at  a  well  which  was  being 
used  as  a  source  of  drinking  water.  As  we  started 
forward  shells  began  to  spray  the  road  at  the  far  end 
of  the  village  at  the  very  moment  when  we  ourselves 
would  have  arrived  had  we  gone  right  on.  Naturally 
we  changed  our  course  and  turned  off  at  right  angles 
towards  home,  while  heavy  shelling  of  the  town  con- 
tinued. 

Half  a  mile  out  of  the  village  we  met  a  civilian 
with  his  wife  and  little  six  year  old  girl,  all  dressed  in 
their  Sunday  clothes,  jogging  along  in  a  two  wheeled 
cart  to  their  home  in  Ploegsteert  village,  which  was 
still  being  shelled.  Why  people  should  apparently  dis- 
count death  as  some  of  these  civilians  seemed  to  do, 
passed  our  powers  of  comprehension;  it  never  ceased 
to  be  an  astonishing  thing  to  me. 

There  was  great  air  activity  during  that  period  on 
the  part  of  the  Bosches  and  with  a  reason.  We  knew 

*Our  men  have  since  been  astonished  at  the  wonderful  view  of  our 
lines  obtained  from  the  Messines — Wytschaete  ridge. 

238 


ON  THE  BELGIAN  BORDER 

that  they  were  ready  for  another  gas  attack,  for  our 
artilley  had  burst  a  tank  in  the  German  trenches  and 
the  yellow  fumes  of  chlorine  gas  had  been  identified. 
A  German  gas  bag  used  for  getting  the  wind  drift  was 
also  brought  in  to  us  for  examination,  showing  that  the 
enemy  was  awaiting  a  favorable  opportunity. 

As  I  sat  out  in  our  garden  in  Bailleul  one  evening 
at  the  end  of  April  reading  "The  Morals  of  Marcus 
Ordeyne,"  three  aeroplanes  like  great  birds  volplaned 
slowly  down  from  the  clouds — coming  home  to  roost — 
until  they  were  within  100  feet  of  the  ground,  just  clear- 
ing the  house  tops  as  they  dropped  into  their  nesting 
ground  on  the  other  side  of  the  town.  I  could  see  the 
pilots  quite  plainly. 

In  that  brick-walled  garden,  full  of  rose  bushes 
in  leaf,  I  sat  and  looked  at  the  cherry  trees  in  early 
blossom,  and  thoughts  came  to  me  of  other  gardens 
away  back  in  Canada,  where  I  had  spent  many  an  hour 
in  the  gloaming,  while  real  birds  and  bats  flitted  about 
across  the  sky.  I  leaned  over  to  breathe  the  perfume  of  a 
white  jonquil  and  a  thrill  of  emotion  swept  over  me 
and  almost  made  me  dizzy — for  the  odour  was  one  I 
had  not  met  with  for  a  long,  long  time.  This  variety 
of  jonquil  my  father  used  to  grow  at  the  lake,  and  in 
the  spring  of  the  year  on  which  he  died  some  of  the 
bulbs  planted  with  his  own  hands  were  in  bloom  when 
we  made  our  first  trip  up  there;  they  had  seemed  like 
a  sweet  message  from  the  dead. 

I  went  to  bed  that  night  very  homesick,  wishing 
that  the  Kaiser  was  in  Hades  and  the  war  was  over. 
For  a  long  time  I  could  not  get  to  sleep  and  an  agitated 

239 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

rapping  on  my  door  made  me  start  up  quickly  from  a 
restless  slumber.  My  window  was  open  and  the  chok- 
ing fumes  of  chlorine  poured  into  the  room  while 
Madame  rapped  away,  exclaiming,  "Monsieur  the 
Colonel;  the  asphyxiating  gas  has  arrived."  I  slam- 
med the  window  to,  soaked  a  muffler  in  water  and 
wrapped  it  over  my  mouth  and  nose  while  robed  in  a 
dressing  gown,  I  hastened  down  stairs.  My  own  gas 
mask,  carefully  placed  in  a  corner,  had  been  moved, 
and,  in  the  dark,  I  could  not  find  it.  I  gathered  the 
four  women  into  the  inner  kitchen  and  made  them 
breathe  through  towels  wrung  out  in  a  solution  of 
ammonium  carbonate,  which  we  were  fortunate  enough 
to  find,  while  we  excluded  as  much  gas  as  possible  by 
wet  towels  placed  over  the  cracks  in  the  doors. 

It  was  a  most  unpleasant  experience.  As  we  were 
nearly  seven  miles  from  the  German  line,  it  was  quite 
evident  that  the  gas  must  have  been  discharged  in  tre- 
mendous quantity  to  have  reached  us  in  the  strength  it 
did.  I  had  visions  of  the  Germans  discharging  gas  for 
hours  and  killing  everything  that  breathed  for  miles 
back  of  the  lines.  It  was  a  horrible  sensation  to  realize 
that  you  had  been  caught  like  rats  in  a  cellar  and  would 
slowly  die  of  asphyxiation.  The  gas  crept  in  through 
the  doors,  and  it  was  quite  impossible  to  breathe  except 
through  towels  saturated  with  the  chemical  solution. 
I  wondered  how  the  Germans  would  feel  about  it  when 
they  came  over  through  a  country  devoid  of  all  life  and 
whether  they  would  take  the  trouble  to  bury  all  the 
women  and  children  and  dead  animals. 

Breathing  was  steadily  becoming  more  and  more 

240 


ON  THE  BELGIAN  BORDER 

difficult,  when  suddenly  the  door  bell  rang.  One  of  the 
girls  insisted  on  going  to  answer  it,  and  quickly  came 
back  to  report  that  a  neighbor  had  called  to  see  whether 
they  were  all  right,  and  that  the  gas  cloud  had  passed. 
Never  did  fresh  air  taste  so  sweet  to  me,  and  I  wasted 
no  time  in  sending  to  a  hospital  for  a  set  of  masks  so  as 
to  be  prepared  should  another  gas  cloud  arrive. 

The  streak  of  gas  that  crossed  our  section  of  the 
town  must  have  drifted  along  some  depression  in  the 
surface  of  the  country,  for  a  good  many  people  in  other 
parts  of  the  town,  particularly  where  the  windows  had 
been  closed,  were  not  greatly  inconvenienced  by  it. 

The  gas  was  strong  enough  to  kill  all  the  young 
foliage  of  the  roses  and  other  plants  in  our  garden, 
while  closer  to  the  front  a  number  of  horses  were  poi- 
soned by  it.  Several  hundred  soldiers  of  British  regi- 
ments were  gassed  and  the  Germans,  under  cover  of  the 
gas  cloud,  raided  the  British  trenches  in  an  endeavour 
to  locate  and  blow  up  certain  mine  shafts.  That  they 
did  not  succeed  was  shown  recently  when  these  same 
mines  on  the  Wytschaete  ridge  blew  both  Germans  and 
trenches  far  on  the  way  towards  the  eternal  stars. 

Other  gas  attacks  launched  by  the  Germans  the 
same  night  failed  to  achieve  any  results;  and  in  one 
section  they  managed  to  gas  themselves  badly.  We 
reported  the  gas  to  be  chlorine,  and  the  post  mortems 
of  gassed  soldiers  carried  out  by  Major  Rankin,  blood 
tests  by  myself  to  exclude  other  possibilities,  and  evi- 
dence obtained  elsewhere,  all  indicated  that  the  gas 
employed  had  been  chlorine. 

The  New  Zealand  division  which  had  come  into 

241 
17 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

our  area,  held  the  line  in  front  of  Armentieres.  A  small 
epidemic  of  suspected  dysentery  in  that  division  took  us 
through  that  town  frequently,  and  we  found  it  almost 
completely  deserted.  The  Huns  shelled  it  almost  daily 
and  had  made  the  place  almost  untenable  for  civilians, 
though,  as  usual,  a  number  of  them  hung  on  and  did  a 
fairly  good  business. 

The  staff  of  our  laboratory  had  been  reduced  from 
three  officers  to  two,  and  after  a  good  deal  of  discussion, 
Major  Rankin  dropped  out  at  his  own  earnest  request 
and  was  detailed  to  the  Canadian  Corps  to  train  for 
the  position  of  D.A.D.M.S.  To  celebrate  the  occasion 
he  gave  us  a  little  dinner,  and  invested  heavily  in 
nectarines,  strawberries  and  peaches  from  the  graperies. 
The  occasion  was  only  slightly  marred  by  the  popping 
cork  of  a  champagne  bottle  crashing  through  a  skylight 
and  bringing  down  a  shower  of  glass  on  the  Cap.'s  head, 
which  bled  profusely. 

One  evening  after  dinner  as  we  sat  with  French 
windows  opened  wide  to  the  warm  evening  air  of  late 
spring,  puffing  idly  at  our  cigars,  a  most  beautiful  bird 
song  burst  upon  our  ears — a  song  that  made  us  stare  at 
one  another  in  amazement;  we  had  never  heard  its  like 
before.  It  might  be  described  as  a  bird  fantasia — the 
notes  covered  a  wide  range  of  sounds  and  the  effect  was 
beautiful.  Captain  Ellis  walked  quietly  down  the 
garden  path  and  got  close  to  the  cherry  tree  from  which 
the  trills  and  lilts  continued  to  pour,  but  could  see 
nothing.  Mile.  C —  said  it  was  a  chantresse  (songster) 
but  that  did  not  give  us  much  idea  of  what  it  was  like. 

Every  morning  and  evening  after  that,  this  indefa- 

242 


ON  THE  BELGIAN  BORDER 

tigable  songster  made  music  for  us  (or  rather  for  his 
mate,  probably  sitting  on  her  eggs)  in  the  cherry  tree 
on  the  other  side  of  the  wall.  How  we  enjoyed  listen- 
ing to  it!  Many  a  time  we  tried  to  locate  the  singer  in 
his  leafy  home,  but  in  vain ;  the  nearest  we  ever  came  to 
it  was  once  when  we  saw  a  branch  shake  as  the  bird 
hopped  to  another  limb. 

One  morning  the  brilliant  bursts  of  song  were  lack- 
ing, and  we  missed  them.  Just  before  we  left  for  the 
laboratory  Mademoiselle  C —  brought  in  a  rat  trap  to 
show  us,  and  there  caught  in  it,  was  our  little  shy  singer 
with  grey  dappled  breast,  its  head  crushed  by  the  cruel 
steel  spring.  Evidently  in  search  of  food  in  the  early 
morning  it  had  hopped  on  the  trigger  of  the  trap  and 
met  its  fate.  It  was  one  of  the  little  tragedies  continu- 
ally occurring  in  nature;  to  the  little  bird-wife  waiting 
in  the  cherry  tree  it  was  just  as  great  a  tragedy  as  would 
be  the  death  of  her  husband  to  the  woman  waiting  at 
home. 

This  was  an  eventful  period  in  the  history  of  the 
war  for  Canadians.  A  heavy  bombardment  all  along 
the  line  from  La  Bassee  to  Ypres  forecasted  something 
unusual.  My  diary,  unusually  voluminous  for  the  day 
of  June  3rd,  shows  that  I  was  greatly  impressed  by  the 
occurrences  of  that  day  and  had  taken  the  trouble  to 
write  down  my  impressions  at  length.  The  following 
extract  is  a  word  for  word  copy  from  my  diary : 

June  3rd. — Awakened  at  2.15  a.m.  by  agitated  fir- 
ing of  anti-aircraft  guns.  Heard  planes  overhead  and 
big  guns  going.  Listened  for  a  while  and  got  partly 
dressed  and  went  down  into  garden.  Two  British 

243 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

planes  going  up — no  Bosches  visible.  Quite  clear  at 
2.30  a.m.  with  low  summer  clouds.  Slept  till  8.  Asked 
Rankin  and  Ellis  at  breakfast  about  bombardment;  they 
hadn't  heard  it.  Rad  said  18  British  ships  sunk  and 
Canadians  had  lost  trenches — laughed  at  him. 

Sanitary  officer  24th  Division  called  re  beer  used 
at  Dranoutre  taken  from  becque  %  m^e  below  Locre 
sewage  outfall.  Also  discussed  lime  treatment  of  sew- 
age effluent,  grease  traps,  etc.,  etc. 

French  paper  at  noon  said  British  and  German 
fleets  had  been  engaged. 

After  dinner  went  with  Ellis  to  Abeele,  called  on 
paymaster  for  money.  Major  said  Canadians  had 
had  2,000  casualties.  The  Germans  started  a  5-hour 
bombardment  at  9  a.m.,  June  2nd.  General  Mercer  and 
Brig.  General  Vic  Williams  were  making  an  inspection 
at  the  time  and  both  wounded ;  were  last  seen  at  3  p.m. 
going  into  a  dug-out,  which  was  taken  afterwards  by 
Germans,  and  have  not  been  seen  since — probably  cap- 
tured. Lt.-Col.  Tanner,  O.C.  Field  Ambulance,  badly 
wounded.  In  counter-attacks  by  3rd  Canadian  Divi- 
sion— a  good  deal  of  trenches  recovered — not  all. 
Attack  made  on  3rd  Division — General  Lipsett  now 
in  command — and  part  of  1st  division.  14th,  15th,  and 
10th  Battalions,  1st  Division,  made  counter-attack  this 
morning — Toronto  Highlanders  did  particularly  well. 
4th  and  5th  C.M.R.'s  said  to  have  lost  500  each.  Last 
official  bulletin  about  fleet — Queen  Mary,  Invincible 
and  Indefatigable — battle  cruisers,  sunk.  Also  3 
cruisers  sunk  and  one  abandoned ;  6  torpedo  boats  sunk 
and  6  missing.  Germans  lost  one  sunk  and  one 

244 


ON  THE  BELGIAN  BORDER 

damaged.  Evidently  the  British  fleet  was  done  in  bad- 
ly, but  the  reason  cannot  be  explained  until  all  the  facts 
are  known. 

Went  to  No.  10  C.C.S.  to  see  if  Ellis'  brother  of 
the  7th  Battalion  had  been  wounded — no  news  of  him 
but  arranged  to  have  any  information  telephoned,  and 
that  he  be  sent  for  by  Captain  Stokes — saw  the 
spirochaete  of  epidemic  jaundice.  General  Porter 
there,  and  chatted  to  him  for  a  minute. 

On  the  way  back  we  stopped  at  Mt.  Rouge  and 
saw  the  German  lines. 

It  was  a  beautiful  clear  day  with  a  tang  in  the  air 
like  late  September. 

From  our  little  observation  point  on  the  top  of 
Mt.  Rouge  we  could  see  for  miles  on  all  sides.  Over  in 
front  lay  Mt.  Kemmel,  bristling  with  guns  but  not  one 
visible  with  the  field  glasses.  Beneath  us  and  between 
us  and  Kemmel,  on  the  road  that  runs  from  Bailleul  to 
Ypres,  nestled  the  little  village  of  Locre,  with  its  white 
walled  cottages  and  red  tiled  roofs. 

To  the  left  of  Kemmel  the  sun  made  prominent  the 
ruins  of  Wytschaete — a  village  in  the  German  lines. 
Just  beneath  Wytschaete  one  could  see  the  German 
trenches,  two  lines  of  them,  which  showed  like  brick 
red  seams  in  the  earth  and  ran  up  over  and  along  the 
crest  of  the  Wystchaete  ridge,  which  itself  ran  towards 
St.  Eloi  and  Ypres.  Between  these  German  trenches 
and  our  own  was  a  sandy  waste — no  man's  land — 
scarred  and  churned  by  untold  numbers  of  shells.  Even 
the  forest  patches  in  this  region  were  dead  and  slivered 
by  rifle  and  shell. 

245 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

To  the  left  of  Wytschaete  one  could  see  great  bursts 
of  brown,  black,  greenish  and  white  smoke  over  a  width 
of  country  perhaps  %  of  a.  mile  and  a  length  of  2 
miles.  It  was  here  that  the  3rd  and  1st  Canadian  Divi- 
sions were  fighting  with  the  Huns  for  mastery.  Per- 
haps as  we  watched  these  bursting  shells  were  killing 
our  own  friends. 

The  region  of  St.  Eloi  was  cut  off  by  the  Scherpen- 
berg  Mountain  and  to  the  left  of  that  again  we  could 
see  with  wonderful  clearness  the  ruins  of  Ypres.  As 
we  watched,  great  clouds  of  dust  went  up  at  intervals 
from  the  square.  The  tower  of  St.  Martin's  Church, 
and  the  tower  of  the  Cloth  Hall  to  the  right  were 
clearly  distinguishable. 

To  the  left  of  Ypres  again  we  could  see  spires  of 
towns,  and  one  town  far  away  was  right  on  the  sea  we 
were  told,  probably  Dunkirk.  To  the  right  of  Kemmel 
was  the  ruined  tower  of  Messines  in  the  German  lines; 
to  the  left  of  that  the  smoking  chimneys  of  Armentieres 
now  also  somewhat  battle  scarred,  and  away  beyond  it 
and  a  little  to  the  left  the  City  of  Lille. 

Thus  we  could  see  from  Dunkirk  on  the  sea  to 
Lille,  that  fair  city,  well  inland  in  northern  France, 
and  could  follow  the  battle  line  from  Pilken  beyond 
Ypres  to  La  Bassee.  In  that  line  we  could  actually  see 
the  flashes  and  shell  bursts  in  Ypres,  St.  Eloi,  Wytschaete 
and  near  Levantie.  It  was  a  wonderful  day,  and  a  view 
never  to  be  forgotten. 

It  was  a  bitter  day  for  us,  and  we  had  a  bad  even- 
ing discussing  our  hard  knocks. 

At  10.30  p.m.  Ellis  came  back  from  the  lab,  with 

246 


ON  THE  BELGIAN  BORDER 

the  latest  report  of  the  sea  battle  which  has  worried  us 
so  much : 

LOSSES. 

British.  German. 

3  Battle  Cruisers  sunk :  2  Dreadnaughts  sunk. 

Queen  Mary.  1  Battle  Cruiser  sunk. 

Indomitable.  3  Light  Cruisers  sunk. 

Indefatigable.  6  Destroyers  sunk. 

3  Cruisers  sunk :  1  Submarine  rammed  and  sunk. 

Warrior.  2  Battle  Cruisers  badly  damaged. 

Black  Prince.  3  other  ships  damaged. 

Defence.  1  Zeppelin  destroyed. 

8  Destroyers  and  Torpedo  Boats 
sunk. 

Hooray !  even  if  above  is  not  true." 

The  corrected  report  of  the  battle  of  Jutland  was 
confirmed  later  and  caused  profound  relief  in  the  army. 
Why  such  a  report  had  been  allowed  to  pass  and  remain 
uncontradicted  so  long  could  not  be  fathomed.  Those 
were  very  black  days  for  the  army  in  the  field  and  many 
a  man  died  with  despair  in  his  heart,  convinced  that 
what  had  been  the  greatest  fact  in  his  whole  life — the 
invincibility  of  the  British  Fleet — was  a  myth.  The 
British  nation  will  take  a  long  time  to  forgive  the  Ad- 
miralty for  that  unnecessary  delay. 

In  that  dark  period  the  army  in  France,  with  the 
fleet  destroyed,  saw  its  lines  of  communication  being 
cut,  and  the  end  in  sight.  I  ran  across  Lt.-Col. 
(Canon)  Scott,  C.M.G.,  in  a  rest  station  the  day  after 
the  correct  report  had  arrived.  His  eye  was  blacked, 
his  nose  skinned,  and  his  wrist  sprained  and  he  present- 
ed all  the  signs  of  having  been  in  a  fight,  though  as  a 
matter  of  fact  he  had  fallen  from  his  horse  while  suf- 


247 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

fering  from  the  effects  of  anti-typhoid  inoculation. 
Notwithstanding  his  condition  he  had  slipped  away 
from  the  rest  station  that  night  and  had  gone  up  to 
the  Canadian  area  to  spread  the  good  news  of  the  naval 
battle  in  order  to  cheer  up  our  men  who  were  going  into 
action.  A  German  barrage  had  prevented  him  from 
getting  up  to  the  front  line  but  he  managed  to  have  the 
good  news  telephoned  in  to  the  trenches.  That  was 
characteristic  of  the  unselfish  work  of  Canon  Scott;  he 
never  spared  himself  and  his  thought  was  always 
for  "the  boys  in  the  trenches."  He  is  a  great  soul. 

The  Canadian  losses  in  the  St.  Eloi  battle  were 
said  to  be  about  6,000  and  there  was  little  glory  for 
anybody  and  a  good  deal  of  prestige  lost  by  many  in 
that  affair 

The  death  of  Lord  Kitchener  off  the  Orkney 
Islands  had  startkd  the  world  and  all  wondered  what 
catastrophe  would  happen  next.  The  loss  of  Kitchener 
was  greatly  deplored  by  the  French  people  who  looked 
on  Kitchener,  the  inscrutable,  as  a  great  mystery  and  one 
to  admire  and  marvel  at 

One  day  at  Boulogne  returning  from  leave  after 
an  uneventful  channel  crossing  with  some  sort  of  Rus- 
sian delegation,  we  had  picked  up  our  grips  and  started 
for  the  gangway,  when  the  strains  of  a  band  on  the 
dock  became  audible,  and  we  could  see  a  group  of 
French  officers  waiting  to  meet  the  Russian  delegates 
who  were  slowly  filing  down  the  gang  plank.  The 
band  slowly  played  the  Russian  national  anthem,  and 
we  all  dropped  our  baggage  and  stood  to  attention.  As 
the  strains  died  away  we  again  seized  our  grips  and 

248 


ON  THE  BELGIAN  BORDER 

began  to  push  forward  when  the  band  struck  up  the 
Marseillaise  and  again  we  dropped  everything  and 
stood  to  attention.  After  an  interval  of  about  ten 
minutes  the  last  bars  of  the  tune  died  away  and  for  the 
third  time  we  seized  our  things  only  to  hear  the  strains 
of  the  British  national  anthem  rising  on  the  air.  Again 
we  dropped  our  stuff  and  smartly  came  to  the  salute 
like  good  loyal  subjects  though  we  heartily  wished  that 
the  delegation  had  gone  by  the  Archangel  route,  for  we 
felt  certain  that  the  band  would  play  the  national  an- 
thems of  Belgium,  Japan,  Serbia  and  Italy.  However, 
like  most  things,  it  came  to  an  end  and  we  filed  off 
after  a  delay  of  what  had  seemed  to  be  a  good  half 
hour.  It  is  strange  how  we  were  all  keen  to  get  back 
to  the  front  to  the  work  which  we  got  so  fed  up  with  and 
would  sometimes  give  the  whole  world  to  get  away 
from. 

The  summer  of  1916  was  the  period  of  the  battle 
of  the  Somme  and  most  of  our  interests  hinged  on  that 
offensive.  At  the  beginning  of  July  the  British  began 
their  big  advance  to  the  south  and  the  fighting  in  our 
area  consisted  largely  of  trench  raids,  artillery  bom- 
bardments, gas  attacks,  aeroplane  raids  and  other  events 
incidental  to  trench  warfare. 

A  spectacular  show  occurred  when  the  offensive 
began  and  the  enemy  observation  balloons,  hitherto 
practically  unmolested,  were  attacked  by  our  airmen 
with  some  new  incendiary  device  with  the  result  that 
nine  were  brought  down  in  a  few  minutes  in  flames  and 
the  others  were  quickly  hauled  to  earth  to  remain  there 
for  many  weeks.  Only  occasionally  during  the  succeed- 

249 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

ing  months  would  a  captive  balloon  ascend  and  then 
would  quickly  disappear  on  the  approach  of  one  of  our 
planes. 

Pens  for  German  prisoners  were  under  course  of 
construction  all  along  the  front — a  most  satisfactory 
procedure  from  the  psychological  standpoint,  as  it 
seemed  to  express  confidence  in  what  the  future  was 
to  bring.  The  capacity  of  the  hospitals  had  also  been 
increased  from  540  to  1,000  beds,  which  also  indicated 
business. 

The  Canadians  were  still  in  the  salient  side  by  side 
with  the  Guards  and  the  latter  used  to  cheer  "the  right- 
ing Canucks"  as  they  called  them,  as  they  went  into  the 
trenches.  The  only  regret  of  the  Canadians  at  that 
time  was  that  they  did  not  have  the  "Immortal  Seventh 
Division"  on  their  other  side. 

An  attack  by  the  Australians  on  our  front  resulted 
in  casualties  amounting  to  several  thousands  and  the 
hospitals  for  many  days  afterwards  were  filled  with 
cases  of  gas  gangrene  due  to  the  men  lying  out  too  long 
in  the  open  with  infected  wounds. 

Divisions  from  our  area  would  move  out  and  go 
south  to  the  Somme  while  battered  divisions  from  the 
Somme  front  would  drift  up  into  our  area.  Among 
these  was  the  Ulster  division  whose  fife  and  drum 
band  came  marching  gaily  up  the  street,  nearly 
every  musician  wearing  a  German  cap.  A  few  days 
later  the  south  of  Ireland  division  came  up  and  the 
two  divisions  occupied  the  line  side  by  side.  Needless 
to  say  they  fraternized  in  the  best  spirit  while  out  of  the 
line  just  as  they  supported  one  another  while  in  it. 

250 


ON  THE  BELGIAN  BORDER 

In  the  second  week  in  August  the  first  Canadian 
division  came  out  of  the  salient  into  the  training  area 
preparatory  to  going  down  to  the  Somme,  and  the  other 
Canadian  divisions  soon  followed. 

During  this  period  a  Canadian  medical  officer, 
noted  for  his  self-possession,  was  proceeding  along  the 
road  and  came  across  a  private  soldier  who  had  been 
hurt  in  an  accident.  At  the  same  time  a  car  stopped 
and  a  young  lieutenant  stepped  out  to  see  whether  he 
could  be  of  use.  The  M.O.  examined  the  injured  man 
and  said  to  the  lieutenant  rather  brusquely,  "Is  that  your 
car?"  The  lieutenant  said  that  it  was.  "Well  we'll 
just  put  this  man  in  and  take  him  to  the  hospital  in 
Hazebrouk  if  you  don't  mind,"  said  the  M.O.  and  with- 
out waiting  for  permission  helped  the  injured  man  into 
the  car.  The  lieutenant  seemed  to  be  quite  agreeable 
and  they  drove  to  Hazebrouk  several  miles  away. 

The  M.O.  thoroughly  enjoyed  that  drive;  all  along 
the  road  officers  and  men  saluted  the  car  deferentially 
and  the  M.O.  acknowledged  these  salutes  most  gra- 
ciously. Somehow  or  other  the  world  seemed  to  be 
peculiarly  affable  to  the  M.O.  and  by  the  time  Haze- 
brouk was  reached  he  simply  beamed  on  everybody. 

As  they  drove  up  to  the  hospital  there  happened 
to  be  a  General  and  a  Colonel  chatting  to  the  officer 
commanding  the  hospital  at  the  front  door.  Much  to 
the  MXX's  surprise  the  General  saluted  first  but  as  he 
made  haste  to  acknowledge  the  salute,  he  observed  that 
the  General  was  smiling  at  the  lieutenant  beside  him. 
Then,  only,  did  it  dawn  upon  the  M.O.  that  the  lieuten- 
ant was  the  Prince  of  Wales  and  his  confusion  was  so 

251 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

great  that  he  could  never  afterwards  recall  just  what 
he  did  for  the  next  three  or  four  hours.  He  was  heard 
to  say  that  night  that  the  Prince  of  Wales  was  "an 
awful  decent  chap  and  a  thorough  gentleman"  and  also 
that  the  Burgundy  wine  in  Hazebrouk  was  of  very 
inferior  quality. 

The  work  of  the  laboratory  was  very  heavy  from 
routine  work  of  various  sorts  and  an  attempt  to  stamp 
out  diphtheria  from  a  Scotch  division.  Much  the  same 
sort  of  experiences  as  have  been  related  elsewhere  were 
encountered  and  we  had  entered  upon  the  fed-up  stage 
of  life  at  the  front.  It  needed  something  of  extraor- 
dinary interest  to  rouse  one's  interest  to  any  unusual 
degree. 

At  the  beginning  of  September  the  three  Canadian 
Divisions  were  en  route  to  the  Somme,  while  the  newly 
arrived  4th  Canadian  Division  came  up  to  take  over 
part  of  the  line  near  the  Ypres  Salient. 

The  British  and  French  were  doing  well  and  tak- 
ing many  prisoners  on  the  Somme,  as  were  the  Russians 
on  their  front  while  the  Roumanians  began  their  offen- 
sive and  swept  far  over  the  country  much  to  the  horror 
of  the  critics  and  everybody  else. 

There  was  great  elation  on  the  day  of  the  big  offen- 
sive on  the  Somme  when  the  British  first  used  "tanks." 
I  shall  never  forget  the  thrill  I  had  when  we  read  a 
telegram  received  at  one  of  the  headquarters  repeating 
a  wireless  message  from  an  aeroplane  observer  to  the 
effect  that  he  could  see  a  tank  wobbling  into  a  village 
followed  by  cheering  troops.  It  was  the  first  time  that 
engines  of  warfare  had  led  the  way  to  an  attacking 

252 


ON  THE  BELGIAN  BORDER 

force  and  the  picture  of  the  enemy  fleeing  before  these 
new  engines  of  terror  spouting  fire  and  destruction  and 
rolling  over  trenches  and  machine  gun  emplacements, 
while  cheering  Tommies  followed  in  their  wake,  will 
never  be  forgotten.  We  envied  the  air  men  their  view 
that  day  and  thought  of  how  they  must  have  thrilled 
at  the  sights  below  them. 

We  had  been  ordered  to  get  out  of  our  quarters  in 
the  school  on  October  the  first.  After  some  difficulty 
we  decided  to  build  a  hut  for  laboratory  quarters  and 
selected  a  field  near  the  British  isolation  hospital.  The 
view  from  the  site  selected,  overlooking  the  rolling 
fields,  with  the  Mt.  de  Cats  surmounted  by  its  mon- 
astery to  the  left,  and  Mt.  Rouge  to  the  right,  is  about 
as  fine  as  anything  I  have  seen  in  Belgium. 

With  the  aid  of  a  carpenter  from  the  Canadian 
casualty  clearing  station,  we  built  the  hut,  40  feet  by 
20  feet,  ourselves,  and  when  I  left  for  England  early 
in  October,  it  was  a  great  satisfaction  to  feel  that  we 
were  established  in  what  a  Surgeon-General  subsequent- 
ly stated  to  be  "an  ideal  field  laboratory." 

On  the  way  from  what  proved  to  be  my  last  stay  in 
France,  we  visited  the  Somme  area  and  saw  some  of  our 
old  comrades.  The  Canadians  had  on  the  previous  day 
suffered  heavy  casualties  in  trying  to  take  Regina  trench 
and  we  passed  homeward  through  the  tent  covered  area 
behind  Albert  with  the  knowledge  that  more  of  our 
old  school  friends  were  at  that  moment  lying  out  wound- 
ed and  dead  in  no  man's  land. 

As  we  drove  along  the  moonlit  road  from  Albert  on 
the  way  to  Boulogne  we  passed  company  after  company 

253 


ON  THE  FRINGE  OF  THE  GREAT  FIGHT 

of  soldiers  trudging  along  towards  the  front;  they  did 
not  sing.  It  was  the  4th  Canadian  Division  going  into 
action — about  to  experience  that  great  adventure  of 
battle  for  which  they  had  trained  so  long  and  had  come 
so  far  to  obtain. 

Farther  along  the  road  we  could  hear  away  in  the 
distance  a  song;  we  could  not  distinguish  the  words  but 
we  knew  that  soon  we  would  hear  "Pack  up  your 
troubles  in  your  own  kit  bag  and  Smile,  Smile,  Smile  1" 
They  were  Canadians  coming  out  of  the  trenches. 


254 


INDEX 


PAGE 

Air  service 237 

battle 88 

Alderson,  General 94, 237 

Advanced  Dressing  Station 128 

Ambulance,  work  of       . 129 

Field,  Canadian,  No.  3 104, 108 

Artillery,  Canadian,  in  billets 22 

Shelling  by .158 

Aubers  ridge,  battle  of 118 

Australians,  arrival  of,  from  Gallipoli 236 

B 

Band,  British  Guards     . 173 

Indian 174 

Bailleul,  garden  in 116,240 

Balbaud,  Professor  Paul 121 

Barrows,  Roman,  Salisbury  Plains       .......       27 

Battalion,  first  Canadian, .117 

third  Canadian  (Toronto) 70,  115 

Winnipeg  rifles 7 

work  of  medical  officers  of 127 

Baths,  divisional 146,  147 

Bird  life,  Salisbury  Plains 25 

the  nameless 242 

Bombs,  on  Bailleul 233 

on  Canadian  Headquarters 237 

on  Merville 72 

Bournemouth 52 

255 


INDEX 

PAGE: 

Boyd,  Capt .104 

Brielen 91 

British  officers 66 

Buckingham  Palace,  investiture  at 230 

Burstall,  General  (C.B.)   .      ...         94,237 


Canadian  contingent,  first,  leaving  Gaspe 5 

arrival  at  Plymouth        ...  9 

Salisbury  Plain  .      .  10 

sickness  among 19 

Canadian  division,  first,  review  by  King 29 

after  Neuve  Chappelle  ....  70 

sports  of 74 

German  attack  upon      ....  97 

Canadian  division,  second,  arrival  in  France 123 

Canadians  in  Ypres  Salient,  1916 250,  252 

Canadian  graveyard 176 

laboratory  arrival  in  France 65 

work  of  (See  'Laboratory'). 

Casualty  clearing  station,  work  of  a 128 

Chalons-sur-Marne 206 

Champagne,  visit  to 205 

Channel,  crossing  the  British 232 

Cartwright,  Lt 234 

Chlorine  gas  used  by  Germans 94 

treatment  of  water  (See  'Water')   ....   140,  155 

Cole,  Capt.  Cooper 234 

Cock  fighting  in  France 73 

Creeks,  pollution  of 147 

D 

Disease,   (See  'Epidemics'). 

"Carriers"  of 139,  142 

256 


INDEX 

PAGE 

Dressing  Station,  Canadian  Advanced 99 

Dysentery,  suspected  epidemic  of 157 


Ellis,  Major  Arthur .68,107,164,232,242,245 

Epidemics,  how  spread 136 

lack  of,  in  British  Army  .      .      .      .      .      .      .  134 

F 

Festubert,  battle  of 118, 166 

Fire  fete  of  Merville       ...........  180 

Flowers  in  Spring,  England 57 

France        .           67 

Experience  with  Parisian  flower-girl     ....  194 

in  Bailleul  garden 239 

in  Merville  garden 121 

French  artillery 109 

front,  visit  to 205 

Foch,  General 106 

Foster,  Col.  (C.B.)   (Surgeon-General)     ......  113 

Funeral,  a  Canadian  Soldier's 116 


Gas,  original,  attack  on  Canadians,  April  22,  1915     ...  93 

attack  by  Germans,  Spring,  1916 240 

on  Belgians,  April,  1915 Ill 

masks,  suggested  use  of 107 

poison,  nature  of 94,  95,  107 

work  of  laboratory  on 115 

Gaspe  basin 5 

Gooderham,  Capt .  234 

Graves,  Canadian 176 

257 
18 


INDEX 

H 

PAGE 

Haig,  General  Sir  Douglas 170 

Hardy,  Lt.-Col.   (DS.O.) 101 

Hayter,  Lt.-Col.  (D.S.O.) 234 

Haywood,  Mayor  Alf.  (M.C.) 71,116 

Highlanders,  Canadian,  at  Ypres 96 

(Toronto) 115 

Hospital  on  Salisbury  Plain 28 

French  Canadian,  Paris 199 

at  French  front 205 

barges 131 

Hotel,  Continental,  Paris,  1916 196 

Lotti,  Paris,  1916 1% 

de  1'Angleterre  Beuvais,  1916 190 

Savoy,  London,  1915-16 36 

Hutchison,  Capt.  John 71 

Hughes,  General  Sir  Sam 2,  35 

Hygiene  work  of  laboratory 154 

I 

Institute  for  maimed  soldiers,  Paris 207 

blind  soldiers,  Paris 208 

Indian  band  concert,  France 174 

(Lahore)  division 107 

Inoculation  against  Typhoid  in  Canadians 24 

Investiture,  a  royal .  230 

J 
Jutland,  battle  of, 244, 247 

K 

Kemmel,  hill  of 245 

Kipple,  Sgt.,  description  by 15 

Kitchener,  death  of  Lord 247 

258 


INDEX 

PACK 

Kirkpatrick,  Major 76 

Klotz,  Capt.  Herbert 30 

L 

Laboratory,  Canadian  Mobile 253 

work  of  Canadian  Mobile     .      .     123, 152,  154, 159 

La  Gorgue 79 

Laventie 80 

Larkhill 

Laundries,  waste  from  army 147 

Leicester  square,  1914-15 37 

Lice  and  typhus  fever 144 

Lipsett,  General  (C.M.G.) 244 

London,  1914 32 

Locre 245 

M 

Maclaren,  Major 100 

Macpherson,  Surgeon-General 126,  169 

Malaria,  work  of  Rankin  on 163 

Mavor,  Major  Wilfred  (D.S.O.,  M.C.) 119 

McBrien,  Lt.-Col.,  (D.S.O.) 234 

McPherson,  Lt.-Col.,  (C.M.G.) 87 

Mitchell,  Lt.-Col,  (C.M.G.) 100 

Milk,  use  of,  in  army 141 

Medical  service,  British  organization 126,  138 

officer's  duties 127 

specialists,  work  of 133 

stores,  advanced  depot 133 

Mercer,  Major-General  (C.B.)       .      .      .     70,110,117,233,234 

Mignault,  Lt.-Col 199 

Moroccan  troops  (French  colonials) 96 

Mosquitoes  and  Malaria       . 143 

Muntz,  Capt.  Jerry 71 

259 


INDEX 

N 

PAGE 

New  Zealand  division,  arrival  of  .  241 


Opera  in  Paris,  1916,       ...........  192 

Orbeliani,  Prince 202 

P 

Paris  at  night,  March,  1916 195 

demi  mondes   .      .      .      . 193 

morality  of 194 

women  and  dress 198 

Montmartre  district 191 

opera  in 192 

Pasteur  Institute,  Paris 204 

Piccadilly  circus,  1914-15 37 

Plague,  how  spread  in  armies 149 

Ploegsteert 235-238 

Prince  of  Wales 251 

Poperinge «...      .105,107,111,113,114 

Pollution  of  water  (See  'Water'). 

Q 

Quaker  search  party       ...........  142 

Queen  Mary  battle  cruiser 8 

R 

Rankin,  Lt.-Col.  Allan     ....     68,93,97,112,163,232,242 

Rats,  destruction  of,  in  army 204 

carry  plague 149 

story  of 150 

260 


INDEX 

PAGE 

Red  Cross,  Canadian,  in  Paris 203 

Rawlinson,  General  Sir  Henry 106 

Refugees 98, 102,  165 

Rennie,  General  Robt 70,  76 

Roberts,  Lord,  funeral  of     . 42 

Robertson,  Capt.  E 99 

Rowland,  Capt.  Sydney •  .  62 

Ryerson,  Capt.  George 71 

Russian  delegation 249 


S 

Salisbury  Plain,  Old  Sarum ».,;;.       26 

Silver  Grill .  .       47 

Stonehenge 27 

white  horse 26 

arrival  at 10 

description  of .      .       11 

bird  life 25 

Sanitary  Commission  of  War  Allies 189,  200 

Sanitary  section,  organization  of    .      .      .  f      .      .      .130 

Sanitary  officers 132 

methods  employed  in  field 137 

Scrimger,  Capt,  (V.C.)       ..........       92 

Serbia,  Prince  of 197 

Scott,  (Canon)  Lt.-Col.  Frederick  George,  (C.M.G.)     .     86,247 

St.  Jean 88 

St.  Denis 210 

St.  Eloi 246,248 

St.  Cloud  hospital 200 

Search  party  (Quakers)       .  142 

Sketches,  Dirty  Jock,  etc 184 

Sloggett,  Sir  Arthur 126 

Somme,  battle  of  ............    249-253 

261 


INDEX 

T 

PAGE 

Tanks 252 

Tanner,  Lt.-Col 244 

Tetanus 153 

Typhoid  fever  among  refugees 165 

absence  of,  in  British  army 135 

Typhus  fever  in  Serbia .       144,  145,  201 

U 
Ulster  division 252 

V 

Valcartier  camp   . 1, 3 

Verdun  battle,  Paris    during 191 

Vlamertinge 104 

Van  Straubenzie,  Major 70 

W 

War  office,  London,  1914 39 

Warren,  Capt.  Trumbull 91 

Water  carts 155 

chlorination  of     .  140,  155 

mobile  filters 141 

supply 140,  157 

purification,  control  of 154,  156 

value  of  analysis 156 

Williams,  General  Vic 244 

Wickens,    Major   Bert 71 

Wieltze 88,98,99 

Winnipeg  battalion 7 

Wounded,  evacuation  of 128 

Wytschaete 245 

262 


INDEX 

Y 

PAGE 

Ypres,  city  of,  April  17,  1915 83 

22,  1915 84 

description  of 84 

history  of 85 

Cloth  Hall  of 85 

second  battle  of  94,  100,  102,  109, 114 


263 


Warwick    Bro's   &    Itutter,    Limited, 
Printers   and   Bookbinders,    Toronto,    Canada. 


RETURN  TO  the  circulation  desk  of  any 
University  of  California  Library 
or  to  the 

NORTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 
Bldg.  400,  Richmond  Field  Station 
University  of  California 
Richmond,  CA  94804-4698 

ALL  BOOKS  MAY  BE  RECALLED  AFTER  7  DAYS 
2-month  loans  may  be  renewed  by  calling 

(415)  642-6753 
1-year  loans  may  be  recharged  by  bringing  books 

to  NRLF 
Renewals  and  recharges  may  be  made  4  days 

prior  to  due  date 

DUE  AS  STAMPED  BELOW 


YC  37056 


ivil5379 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY