Letters From the Front

Dated: May 16, 1918

The writer of the following letter is in the field artillery. After a trying period of severe service, he, with others, was given leave to go to a rest camp, which had been established on the seacoast. Their stay is limited to 10 days and when he wrote time was nigh up:

France, May 16, 1918 (approx).

Yesterday morning an interesting lecture on “America in the war” was given by Dr. Irvine in the YMCA hut. He started off by telling his life's story from his boyhood days in an Irish village, until, at the age of 19, he joined the Army, in order to get an education. He served seven years in the Marines and then went to the States, he raised enough money to go to Yale. Since then he is held a chair in one of the largest military colleges. He has an interesting style and spoke well. The figures he quoted were surprisingly large, and, as they were to a great extent, estimates, I for one, took them with a grain of salt. However it will do a lot of good, as the Yanks' showing for the year, on the surface, has by no means been up to the Army's expectations. We are expecting a bunch of them down here tomorrow, for a bath and a game of ball. They are a Southern unit, so should be a different type to what we know along the border.

I watched a pretty scene yesterday. The tide was flowing and a ten fishing fleet(1) were coming in, while down, along the beach, a large flock of sheep were grazing. Were it not for the presence of soldiers, I couldn't imagine a more peaceful scene.

I've been getting in a little good reading since I came here, as the tent is under a Scotch teacher and our exams and reviews are of a far sounder type than are usually run across. Of course we wouldn't want them if up the line, but here, with plenty of time and nothing to worry about, it is different.

An amusing thing happened in our tent last night when the mail came in for the first time. The Corporal read out the names, but we didn't know who the fellows were that we slept with. It seemed funny not to know the name of the man whose blanket I shared, but it happened that none of the five of us knew the names of the absent five.

Watson

France, May 20, 1918

It's another boiling hot day, but as work is an unknown word here I succeeded in keeping cool. This morning three of us were down to the sea and had a good swim. The salt water is a great thing for the skin, and, as we can bathe whenever we want to, I'm hoping to be good and clean for some time.

This afternoon I've been reading a copy of the Edinburgh Review of 1917. The most interesting article is by one of the prominent leaders of the Jewish movement. It is well written. The writer taking Rudolph Springer's maxim that Jewish nationalism cannot be territorial bounded, and by using this as a ground work, he endeavors to prove that the Jews had been so scattered thru Eastern Europe, mingling in the policies of their adopted countries, that a separate Jewish nation in Palestine was bound to fail. In place of it, he advocated the erection of a separate state party, recognized by the peace congress, whereby the rights of the 7,000,000 Jews in Central Europe could be protected and enlarged. Since then the promise that Palestine would be granted to the Jews, by Lloyd George, has, I would imagine, given the Zionist party a huge push forward, as the writer doubted if the Jews would ever get the opportunity of claiming the far East as their home again, the granting of which, he feared, would build a too narrow religious government.

This morning's paper is full of Lord French's coup in Ireland. A chap in our tent is elated over it. He is a Quaker and his father's deep in Irish politics, in fact an Irish M.P. The question is an acute one in England, and the unfortunate reference by President Wilson, some months ago, didn't assist matters. The government has its hands full and popular opinion is foolish in pushing forward reforms, which require time and leisure to perfect, instead of hurry and haphazard methods. The military situation must be calling on their resources when the calling up of men 51 years of age, when Ireland is still untouched by conscription, is not being any too sweetly swallowed, the chief objection being the men of 51 are settled and, apart from physical disability for active service, can be far better employed saving the money to carry on the war. The recent little flurry in Parliament has undoubtedly cleared the air and Lloyd George is as strong as ever, still he is only a man, and the nation, naturally war weary, is apt to be unreasonable in its demands and too willing to rush their grievances to the fore.

The papers state that the Americans are in Picardy. I'm glad to know it, as they should allow the infantry more rest, which naturally is not possible to give them at present, their trips in the lines being more frequent than it was last year. There is a camp of Americans near here, and they come around frequently. As a rule, they mingle more with the English troops than with us Canadians, but we keep sizing them up and never stop them airing their views. The discomforts new troops always notice loom up largely in their eyes, but will pass away in time. I have only spoken to about a dozen, and needless to say, was surprised to find that five of them are Canadians by birth. Those and the Americans blooded, complain, more or less, about the mixture of nationalities, the foreigners outnumbering them in their battalion. For this they blame the draft system, but it was bound to be, with their scheme of equal selective draft. At present, an overdose of regimental parade formalities overawes them, but that will fall to pieces when they get into action, where every man's chances are equal.

There is to be a singsong, that is an improvised concert, and a lecture on Russia tonight in the Y tent. The speakers Dr. Francis who is in charge of the Y in this district. I heard him last fall, when going on leave, and he is good. He is a Scot and is full of push. For several years before the war, he lived in Petrograd and speaks the Russian tongue. He is a firm believer in the Russian people, and thinks that they will emerge out of their present muddle as soon as a leader powerful enough to rule them arises. I hope he is right, as that would certainly lighten the Western front.

I will tell of an incident that I witnessed before leaving the front. The infantry were spread out ready for any emergency, for an attack was expected, and we, with the guns were ready for any emergency. Amid all this movement of troops I noticed an old man and woman coming down the road. They had all their personal possessions in an old wheelbarrow or in bundles slung around their necks. Both must of been over 80 years old and the sight of them, tired out, resting now and then, in the ditch by the road, bound for some village in the rear, deserting their home, probably for ever, was one of the saddest side incidents I ever watched. However our line held, and doubtless, with lighter hearts they retraveled the road next day.

The YMCA has had quite a testing out this spring, owing to the difficulties of transportation and troop movements. Each Canadian division has its own YMCA hut, which go wherever the division goes. All is well when the whole corps moves but, frequently, one division will be moved alone and then the lines are hard to keep up with. A little idea of the business done over the YMCA counters can be illustrated by an incident. Our Y was low in stock, and everyone was asking for stuff, until five truckloads of biscuits, Canadian five cent chocolate bars, Canadian cigarettes, and Niagara District fruit were rushed through. That meant about 12 tons of stuff at least, and it was all sold inside of 48 hours, when another 7 trucks came in. The improvement in the stock carried in the Y is much noted and certainly has strengthened the institution with the fellows. Some time ago I even bought some American and Canadian magazines from them at a franc apiece and nothing is more appreciated than up-to-date light literature, by the fellows. I've had some letters from people, who mentioned that we must have excellent opportunities to read standard authors. The reverse is the case, as few want to start a long story or anything at all complicated. One chap I know who is a Rhodes Scholar man, came to France with a great stock of works, which copy by copy have been left behind.

We expect to be sent back to our unit early next week, when I am hoping some letters will be waiting me, as a Canadian mail is in. Hoping all are well at home.

Watson