The Great War As I Saw It | Page 8

war experience in Valcartier Camp.
Nearly five years passed before I saw that sacred spot again. It was in
August 1919. The war was ended, peace had been signed, and the great
force of brother knights had been dispersed. Little crosses by the
highways and byways of France and Belgium now marked the
resting-place of thousands of those whose eager hearts took flame
among these autumn hills. As I motored past the deserted camp after
sunset, my heart thrilled with strange memories and the sense of an
abiding presence of something weird and ghostly. Here were the old
roads, there were the vacant hutments. Here were the worn paths across
the fields where the men had gone. The evening breeze whispered
fitfully across the untrodden grass and one by one the strong mountains,
as though fixing themselves more firmly in iron resolve, cast off the
radiant hues of evening and stood out black and grim against the starlit
sky.
CHAPTER II.
(p. 025)
THE VOYAGE TO ENGLAND.

September 29th to October 18th, 1914.
The "Andania" moved out to mid-stream and anchored off Cape
Diamond. The harbour was full of liners, crowded with men in khaki. It
was a great sensation to feel oneself at last merged into the great army
life and no longer free to come and go. I looked at the City and saw the
familiar outline of the Terrace and Château Frontenac and, over all, the
Citadel, one of my favourite haunts in times past. A great gulf
separated us now from the life we had known. We began to realize that
the individual was submerged in the great flood of corporate life, and
the words of the text came to me, "He that loseth his life for My sake
shall find it."
The evening was spent in settling down to our new quarters in what
was, especially after the camp at Valcartier, a luxurious home. Dinner
at night became the regimental mess, and the saloon with its sumptuous
furnishings made a fine setting for the nightly gathering of officers. We
lay stationary all that night and on the next evening, Sept. the 29th, at
six o'clock we weighed anchor and went at slow speed down the stream.
Several other vessels had preceded us, the orders to move being sent by
wireless. We passed the Terrace where cheer after cheer went up from
the black line of spectators crowded against the railing. Our men
climbed up into the rigging and their cheers went forth to the land that
they were leaving. It was a glorious evening. The sun had set and the
great golden light, fast deepening into crimson, burnt behind the
northern hills and lit up the windows of the houses on the cliffs of
Levis opposite. We moved down past the Custom House. We saw the
St. Charles Valley and the Beauport shore, but ever our eyes turned to
the grim outline of Cape Diamond and the city set upon the hill. Beside
me on the upper deck stood a young officer. We were talking together
and wondering if we should ever see that rock again. He never did. He
and his only brother were killed in the war. We reached the end of the
Island of Orleans, and looking back saw a deeper crimson flood the sky,
till the purple mists of evening hid Quebec from our view.
We had a lovely sail down the St. Lawrence in superb weather and (p.
026) three days later entered the great harbour of Gaspé Basin. Here the

green arms of the hills encompassed us, as though Canada were
reluctant to let us go. Gaspé Basin has historical memories for Canada,
for it was there that Wolfe assembled his fleet on his voyage to the
capture of Quebec. We lay at anchor all day, and at night the moon
came up and flooded the great water with light, against which stood out
the black outline of thirty ships, so full of eager and vigorous life.
About midnight I went on deck to contemplate the scene. The night
was calm and still. The vessels lay dark and silent with all lights
screened. The effect was one of lonely grandeur. What was it going to
mean to us? What did fate hold in store? Among those hills, the outline
of which I could now but faintly see, were the lakes and salmon rivers
in the heart of the great forests which make our Canadian wild life so
fascinating. We were being torn from that life and sent headlong into
the seething militarism of a decadent European feudalism. I was
leaning on the rail looking at the track of moonlight, when a young lad
came up to me and said, "Excuse me, Sir, but may I talk to you for a
while?