Letters From the Front

Dated:

The following extract is from a letter written by Lieut. A. Rowat to hs parents, Rev. Andrew and Mrs. Rowat, St. Lambert ( Quebec), a few days before he was killed in action

Yesterday we went out to see Sir Julian Byng, the O.C. of the Canadian Corps, and to hear him say goodbye to our Division (Officers). He has been promoted from a Corps to an Army Commander. He was greatly affected with emotion, and only said a few words, among which were, that we had gained his promotion for him, and that he would never forget it as long as he lived. He said the last year (during which he was the Canadian Corps Commander) was the happiest of his life, if any year could be happy during the war. He wished us all goodbye, good luck , and a speedy termination of the war, and all success and happiness afterwards. It was a dramatic sight to see the scene in front of an old Chateau on the lawn completely surrounded by trees, the officers drawn up in two double lines on either side. He came in quietly, walked up between the two lines, turned about and faced the Chateau and without looking at anyone started to talk. It appeared that he was afraid to look at anyone lest he become overwhelmed with emotion. After he had spoken, he walked away alone, head down, and everyone could only stand and stare, till one of the other Generals walked off with him, and we all ran round to a road leading from the Chateau to see him pass, and cheer him. He is a wonderfully solid looking man with, I would say, a rather large head, not tall, but rather stocky, looking simple, unaffected and, of course, sad looking and disturbed as was natural. He said, when he started to speak, he had come to do one of the hardest things, and saddest he had ever done.

The war news seems, here at least, to be cheerful, the only cloud in the sky is Russia, but it is hard to discern the truth amid all the rumors from here. We are winning and are bound to continue to do so, even at great losses sometimes, and this thought is very consoling, that however hard it is for us it is many times harder for the enemy.

My leave is yet a thing of hope, and I think it will come soon, at least I see nothing very serious in the way unless it is my “untimely taking off” as Shakespeare says, but I am very careful and small, so my head does not show in the trenches, and I never take any unnecessary risks. My paths have led, so far, in very fortunate places, but I must not spoil my luck by saying anything.