THE CALL OF THE MOTHERLAND
"Uncle, what are you going to do with that gun?"
I turned around to discover my little niece, who had noiselessly
entered my den just as I had removed from the wall a Mauser rifle,
a souvenir of former campaigns in South Africa. My reply to her was
in these few words: "I am going to 'Hunt the Hun,' for England has
declared war against Germany."
As I replaced the rifle on the wall, memories of my previous campaigns
arose before me and the chance of going on active service appealed to
me strongly.
When war broke out between England and Germany, I was living in
Toronto, Canada, and was at that time an officer in an irregular corps
known by the name of the Legion of Frontiersmen. The men composing the
corps were chiefly veterans of other wars and ex-soldiers. All were of
the true fighting stock and each was imbued with the sole idea of doing
his bit for king and country.
When I reached our district headquarters that same evening, I met a
determined lot of Britishers all eager to answer the call that we knew
would come from the Motherland. We held a meeting to discuss ways and
means and how we could best assist the mother country. We decided that
we should cable over at once to our commanding officer, Col. Driscoll,
in London, England. Col. Driscoll was the organiser and commanding
officer of the Driscoll Scouts in the Boer War. He had organised some
80,000 frontiersmen all over the British Empire. In response to our
cable, we had a reply from him in which he informed us that we would
have to go as infantry. The frontiersmen were trained as cavalry, so we
were a rather disappointed lot that we could not go as mounted troops.
We therefore had to break away from the old organisation. I offered
myself and my men to Major General Sir Sam Hughes, who advised us to
join the Canadian Militia. This we did, and later on I received my
commission and at once began to drill and train the men as infantry.
This was not a difficult task, as nearly all of them had previous
experience.
Eventually we were warned for overseas, but to my great disappointment,
I was held back to do further recruiting two days before sailing. I at
once began to recruit all over again, and my new battalion furnished me
with a few amusing little incidents.
The men of this new battalion were a splendid lot taken from all walks
of life, but each full of the one idea--doing his bit for King and
Country. With such a gathering of men, you will always find some very
keen wits.
I had occasion to remember one young fellow in particular named Duffy.
He was a very green recruit, and while on guard duty for the first
time, I happened to be passing his post. He stopped me and said, "Are
you one of those fellows I have to salute?" To this question I replied
"Yes." Then he wanted to know why he had to salute me!
I gave him the desired information and passed on. I could see that he
was going to be an amusing character, and I had not long to wait before
I found this to be true. He was paraded before me one morning by the
sergeant. When I asked Duffy to state his business, he told me that he
wanted to give in his resignation, as he had changed his mind about
soldiering and he thought it only fair to give us a week's notice in
order that we could get a man for his place. He was very much surprised
to learn that he could not resign unless the medical officer would
certify him as being unfit. After this I noticed he was very often on
the sick list.
One morning just as we were about to commence a long hike, he was again
paraded to me by an N.C.O. I asked him what he wanted this time, and he
replied with a very pitiable expression on his face: "Sir, I want you
to put me on fatigue work, I don't care how hard it is." I asked him
why he wanted to do this fatigue work, as Tommy generally does not like
this, and he replied, "Sir, I had a dream last night that if I went up
a certain hill, which we had to climb on this march, I would drop dead."
My reply to Duffy was, "Well, we'll take a chance on it." So Duffy had
to go on the route march.
The same evening there was a baseball match on the camp grounds. To
my amazement I saw Duffy playing with the team. He was running and
shouting as if his very life depended upon the outcome. When I had
an opportunity to speak to him, I said, "Well, Duffy, how about that
dream? I thought you would be a dead man by now, but I see that you
are very much alive." He replied, "Yes, sir, I came out better than I
expected." However, Duffy has climbed over more obstacles than a hill
since then, and is now the proud possessor of a D.C.M.
A short time afterwards I went to Ottawa and had an interview with
the ex-Minister of Militia, Major-General Sir Sam Hughes, with whom I
had served in the same brigade in the South African War. I asked him
to allow me to proceed overseas with a view of transferring to the
Imperial Army. It was characteristic of the Minister to ask me when
I wanted to go, and I answered him, "As soon as possible, sir." He
then said, "Are you ready to leave to-morrow night?" I told him that I
could not leave to-morrow night, but could leave in one week's time.
I received the necessary documents, and a week from that date sailed
from Montreal on the S.S. _Metagama_. There were 81 officers and 3,000
rank and file on board. The voyage was enlivened by the music of the
battalion bands.
The trip across was also made interesting by boat and other drills.
After our first boat drill, as I was an unattached officer, I was
shown the place on the deck where, in the event of our being torpedoed,
I was to take up my position. As we neared the danger zone, everyone
was keenly on the lookout for the terror of the seas--the submarine.
It was with a great sigh of relief that we perceived our escorts, two
small torpedo destroyers, steaming in our direction. They were soon
circling around us, and from that time onward everyone on board carried
life belts around with them, ready to put on at a moment's notice.
It was not long before we sighted land, and later on we docked at
Plymouth. The same evening I was in London, and was an eyewitness that
night of a Zeppelin raid.
Few people on this side of the Atlantic realise the nature of a
Zeppelin raid.
I can scarcely describe the horror I felt as the bombs began to descend
on their errand of destruction and murder. The searchlights began to
hunt the air for signs of the airships, and soon we heard the sharp
reports of our anti-aircraft guns along the Thames and also the big
guns at London Bridge.
The roar of the guns was terrible, but nowhere did I see any fear shown
by the populace. Children cried out, but no one could blame them for
that. The streets were weirdly dark, and with the shaded street lamps
and the shrill whistle of the taxis everything seemed to be mysterious.
We could not see the airships. They were so high up in the air that we
could not even see a speck in the sky.
All at once the guns ceased to roar, and then the air raid was over.
Casualties were few. In one house, where a number of poor people had
taken shelter, the roof fell in and the building caught fire. Amongst
the killed was a young clergyman who had been preaching to the people
at this critical moment. At this house, the people had taken shelter in
the basement, which they thought was safer than their own homes.
I was very much impressed with an old lady who kept a fish and chip
shop. Her establishment had been partially destroyed. One-half of the
window had been blown out and on the other half of the window was
displayed a sign which read "Damn the Zeppelins. To Hell with the
Kaiser. Fish and Chips as Usual." This shows the spirit of the women of
Britain. You can't beat morale like that.
In this manner the Huns wage war, trying to weaken the morale of
the people. If they would consider for one moment the spirit of a
nation like England, who gave the dead crew of one of these destroyed
Zeppelins a military funeral, they would realise that a nation which
treats a dead enemy like this has a morale that can never be broken.
Incidents like the foregoing make the people more determined than ever
to push the war to a victorious and successful conclusion.
The morning after my arrival I called at the Canadian War Office--the
Cecil Chambers, the Strand, London. I had a letter of introduction to
Major General J. Carson, who was then the official representative
of the Canadian War Office in England. I was there informed by Staff
Captain Oulster that the General was in France, and that he, the
Captain, could not tell me when he would get back. I therefore seized
the opportunity to go to my home town in West Cumberland, being
furnished with the necessary railway warrant. This I appreciated and
needless to say I was very pleased to visit the town of my birth,
although it was many years since I had left it. I still had friends
there whom I was as glad to see as they were to see me. Whilst there, I
had related to me the following incident:
On the west coast of Cumberland there is a small seaport town named
Harrington, which is about four miles from where I was born. In this
little town there are a number of blast furnaces, and adjacent to the
furnaces there are some by-product works. The product made here is
used, I suppose, in the making of munitions.
These by-product works had been erected several years ago by German
workmen, all the foremen and managers being also German. After the
work was completed many of these Germans remained in the immediate
neighbourhood. Nobody at that time thought anything about it, but
shortly after the war there was a rude awakening one morning. For
this little town was shelled by a submarine that had penetrated up
the Solway Firth with the object of destroying the by-product works.
However the attack was unsuccessful.
It was discovered later on that the wife of one of our leading
citizens, who was herself a German, had boasted to her maid about the
cleverness of the Germans, who remembered the locality and returned
to destroy these works. It was due to the good common sense displayed
by this Cumberland girl, who reported the boastful German lady to the
authorities, that she was interned. This set the authorities moving,
and they discovered that all along the coast for many miles prominent
houses had been erected within recent years. All of them were occupied
and owned by Germans. It was a very simple matter for any one in these
houses to signal out to sea. However, I am pleased to say short work
was made of any German who was living in these houses.
Later on I was pleased to meet two fellow townsmen of mine, both of
whom had won the V.C. whilst serving with the border regiment in
France. Another friend of mine that I met in civilian clothes, who, I
thought, should be with the colours, was a big strong looking young
man. When I rather angrily asked why he was not serving, he fumbled at
his throat and tried to speak, his face flushing at the same time. He
then drew out of his pocket a small slate and with a slate pencil wrote
on it these words, "I can't speak, Jim, the Hun gas has destroyed my
throat and tongue."
He was in the first gas attack and got badly gassed, with the above
result. I don't know how to describe my feelings, but I felt proud to
shake his hand and the water was near to my eyes when I did so. Now
each invalided soldier is given a numbered button to show that he has
been on active service at the front, so that mistakes like mine no
longer occur.
I also met a young officer who had been invalided from Gallipoli with
wounds, two of which were rather peculiar. One bullet had entered
behind his ear and traversed around his cheek, coming out just between
the eye and the bridge of the nose. The other one had taken the centre
of the forehead for a path. To use his phrase, the Turks had put a
permanent parting in his hair.
After spending a few days at my home town, I journeyed back to London
but was informed again by Staff Captain Oulster that Major General
J. Carson was still in France. This was rather awkward for me, so I
asked Captain Oulster if he could give me the necessary letters of
introduction to take over to the British War Office. Captain Oulster
furnished me with the necessary documents, which I took over.
A few days later I went before the medical officer and passed my
medical examination with flying colours. Finally I was given a
commission in the 12th Royal Warwicks, but before the commission had
been made out friends of mine interested themselves in my behalf and I
got over to France as an unattached officer.