THE VANGUARD OF A NATION

Then I went back to the main camp for a last look at that wonderful

army, where the tin-roofed messes take French conversation lessons with

the keen-faced French-Canadian officers, and where one sees

esprit-de-corps in the making. Nowhere is local sentiment stronger than

in Canada. East and West, lake and maritime provinces, prairie and

mountain, fruit district and timber lands—they each thrill to it. The

West keeps one cold blue open-air eye on the townful East. Winnipeg sits

between, posing alternately as sophisticated metropolis and simple

prairie. Alberta, of the thousand horses, looks down from her

high-peaked saddle on all who walk on their feet; and British Columbia

thanks God for an equable climate, and that she is not like Ottawa, full

of politicians and frozen sludge. Quebec, unassailable in her years and

experience, smiles tolerantly on the Nova Scotian, for he has a history

too, and asks Montreal if any good thing can come out of Brandon, Moose

Jaw, or Regina. They discuss each other outrageously, as they know each

other intimately, over four thousand miles of longitude—their fathers,

their families, and all the connections. Which is useful when it comes

to sizing up the merits of a newly-promoted non-commissioned officer or

the capacities of a quarter-master.

As their Army does and suffers, and its record begins to blaze, fierce

pride of regiment will be added to local love and the national pride

that backs and envelops all. But that pride is held in very severe check

now; for they are neither provinces nor tribes but a welded people

fighting in the War of Liberty. They permit themselves to hope that the

physique of their next contingent will not be worse than that of the

present. They believe that their country can send forward a certain

number of men and a certain number behind that, all equipped to a

certain scale. Of discomforts endured, of the long learning and

relearning and waiting on, they say nothing. They do not hint what they

will do when their hour strikes, though they more than hint their

longing for that hour. In all their talk I caught no phrase that could

be twisted into the shadow of a boast or any claim to superiority, even

in respect to their kit and outfit; no word or implication of

self-praise for any sacrifice made or intended. It was their rigid

humility that impressed one as most significant—and, perhaps, most

menacing for such as may have to deal with this vanguard of an armed

Nation.

V

The New Army in Training · 第 23 / 39 题