The Great War As I Saw It | Page 4

those who went to
the great adventure in a brotherhood stronger than has ever been known

before.
Valcartier was to me a weird experience. The tents were cold. The
ground was very hard. I got it into my mind that a chaplain should live
the same life as the private soldier, and should avoid all luxuries. So I
tried to sleep at night under my blanket, making a little hole in the
ground for my thigh bone to rest in. After lying awake for some nights
under these conditions, I found that the privates, especially the old
soldiers, had learnt the art of making themselves comfortable and were
hunting for straw for beds. I saw the wisdom of this and got a Wolesley
sleeping bag, which I afterwards lost when my billet was shelled at
Ypres. Under this new arrangement I was able to get a little rest. A kind
friend in Quebec provided fifty oil stoves for the use of the Quebec
contingent and so we became quite comfortable.
The dominating spirit of the camp was General Hughes, who rode
about with his aides-de-camp in great splendour like Napoleon. To me
it seemed that his personality and his despotic rule hung like a dark
shadow over the camp. He was especially interesting and terrible to us
chaplains, because rumour had it that he did not believe in chaplains,
and no one could find out whether he was going to take us or not. The
chaplains in consequence were very polite when inadvertently they
found themselves in his august presence. I was clad in a private's
uniform, which was handed to me out of a box in the drill-shed the
night before the 8th Royal Rifles left Quebec, and I was most
punctilious in the matter of saluting General Hughes whenever we
chanced to meet.
The day after we arrived at the camp was a Sunday. The weather
looked dark and showery, but we were to hold our first church parade,
(p. 018) and, as I was the senior chaplain in rank, I was ordered to take
it over. We assembled about three thousand strong, on a little rise in the
ground, and here the men were formed in a hollow square. Rain was
threatening, but perhaps might have held off had it not been for the
action of one of the members of my congregation, who in the rear ranks
was overheard by my son to utter the prayer--"O Lord, have mercy in
this hour, and send us now a gentle shower." The prayer of the young

saint was answered immediately, the rain came down in torrents, the
church parade was called off, and I went back to my tent to get dry.
Day after day passed and more men poured in. They were a splendid lot,
full of life, energy and keen delight in the great enterprise. Visitors
from the city thronged the camp in the afternoons and evenings. A
cinema was opened, but was brought to a fiery end by the men, who
said that the old man in charge of it never changed his films.
One of the most gruesome experiences I had was taking the funeral of a
young fellow who had committed suicide. I shall never forget the
dismal service which was held, for some reason or other, at ten o'clock
at night. Rain was falling, and we marched off into the woods by the
light of two smoky lanterns to the place selected as a military cemetery.
To add to the weirdness of the scene two pipers played a dirge. In the
dim light of the lanterns, with the dropping rain over head and the
dripping trees around us, we laid the poor boy to rest. The whole scene
made a lasting impression on those who were present.
Meanwhile the camp extended and improvements were made, and
many changes occurred in the disposition of the units. At one time the
Quebec men were joined with a Montreal unit, then they were taken
and joined with a New Brunswick detachment and formed into a
battalion. Of course we grew more military, and I had assigned to me a
batman whom I shall call Stephenson. I selected him because of his
piety--he was a theological student from Ontario. I found afterwards
that it is unwise to select batmen for their piety. Stephenson was a
failure as a batman. When some duty had been neglected by him and I
was on the point of giving vent to that spirit of turbulent anger, which I
soon found was one of the natural and necessary equipments of an
officer, he would say, "Would you like me to recite Browning's
'Prospice'?" What could the enraged Saul do on such occasions but
forgive, throw down the javelin and listen to the music