In Flanders Fields And Other Poems [22]
be a terrible war, and the finish of one or the other.
I am afraid my holiday trip is knocked galley west; but we shall see."
The voyage continues. A "hundred miles from Moville we turned back,
and headed South for Queenstown; thence to the Channel; put in at Portland;
a squadron of battleships; arrived here this morning."
The problem presented itself to him as to many another.
The decision was made. To go back to America was to go back from the war.
Here are the words: "It seems quite impossible to return,
and I do not think I should try. I would not feel quite comfortable over it.
I am cabling to Morrison at Ottawa, that I am available either as combatant
or medical if they need me. I do not go to it very light-heartedly,
but I think it is up to me."
It was not so easy in those days to get to the war, as he and many others
were soon to discover. There was in Canada at the time
a small permanent force of 3000 men, a military college, a Headquarters staff,
and divisional staff for the various districts into which the country
was divided. In addition there was a body of militia with a strength
of about 60,000 officers and other ranks. Annual camps were formed
at which all arms of the service were represented, and the whole
was a very good imitation of service conditions. Complete plans
for mobilization were in existence, by which a certain quota,
according to the establishment required, could be detailed from each district.
But upon the outbreak of war the operations were taken in hand
by a Minister of Militia who assumed in his own person all those duties
usually assigned to the staff. He called to his assistance
certain business and political associates, with the result that volunteers
who followed military methods did not get very far.
Accordingly we find it written in John McCrae's diary from London:
"Nothing doing here. I have yet no word from the Department at Ottawa,
but I try to be philosophical until I hear from Morrison.
If they want me for the Canadian forces, I could use my old Sam Browne belt,
sword, and saddle if it is yet extant. At times I wish I could go home
with a clear conscience."
He sailed for Canada in the `Calgarian' on August 28th,
having received a cablegram from Colonel Morrison, that he had been
provisionally appointed surgeon to the 1st Brigade Artillery.
The night he arrived in Montreal I dined with him at the University Club,
and he was aglow with enthusiasm over this new adventure.
He remained in Montreal for a few days, and on September 9th,
joined the unit to which he was attached as medical officer.
Before leaving Montreal he wrote to his sister Geills:
"Out on the awful old trail again! And with very mixed feelings,
but some determination. I am off to Val-cartier to-night. I was really
afraid to go home, for I feared it would only be harrowing for Mater,
and I think she agrees. We can hope for happier times.
Everyone most kind and helpful: my going does not seem to surprise anyone.
I know you will understand it is hard to go home, and perhaps easier
for us all that I do not. I am in good hope of coming back soon and safely:
that, I am glad to say, is in other and better hands than ours."
V
South Africa
In the Autumn of 1914, after John McCrae had gone over-seas,
I was in a warehouse in Montreal, in which one might find
an old piece of mahogany wood. His boxes were there in storage,
with his name plainly printed upon them. The storeman, observing my interest,
remarked: "This Doctor McCrae cannot be doing much business;
he is always going to the wars." The remark was profoundly significant
of the state of mind upon the subject of war which prevailed at the time
in Canada in more intelligent persons. To this storeman war merely meant
that the less usefully employed members of the community
sent their boxes to him for safe-keeping until their return.
War was a great holiday from work; and he had a vague remembrance
that some fifteen years before this customer had required of him
I am afraid my holiday trip is knocked galley west; but we shall see."
The voyage continues. A "hundred miles from Moville we turned back,
and headed South for Queenstown; thence to the Channel; put in at Portland;
a squadron of battleships; arrived here this morning."
The problem presented itself to him as to many another.
The decision was made. To go back to America was to go back from the war.
Here are the words: "It seems quite impossible to return,
and I do not think I should try. I would not feel quite comfortable over it.
I am cabling to Morrison at Ottawa, that I am available either as combatant
or medical if they need me. I do not go to it very light-heartedly,
but I think it is up to me."
It was not so easy in those days to get to the war, as he and many others
were soon to discover. There was in Canada at the time
a small permanent force of 3000 men, a military college, a Headquarters staff,
and divisional staff for the various districts into which the country
was divided. In addition there was a body of militia with a strength
of about 60,000 officers and other ranks. Annual camps were formed
at which all arms of the service were represented, and the whole
was a very good imitation of service conditions. Complete plans
for mobilization were in existence, by which a certain quota,
according to the establishment required, could be detailed from each district.
But upon the outbreak of war the operations were taken in hand
by a Minister of Militia who assumed in his own person all those duties
usually assigned to the staff. He called to his assistance
certain business and political associates, with the result that volunteers
who followed military methods did not get very far.
Accordingly we find it written in John McCrae's diary from London:
"Nothing doing here. I have yet no word from the Department at Ottawa,
but I try to be philosophical until I hear from Morrison.
If they want me for the Canadian forces, I could use my old Sam Browne belt,
sword, and saddle if it is yet extant. At times I wish I could go home
with a clear conscience."
He sailed for Canada in the `Calgarian' on August 28th,
having received a cablegram from Colonel Morrison, that he had been
provisionally appointed surgeon to the 1st Brigade Artillery.
The night he arrived in Montreal I dined with him at the University Club,
and he was aglow with enthusiasm over this new adventure.
He remained in Montreal for a few days, and on September 9th,
joined the unit to which he was attached as medical officer.
Before leaving Montreal he wrote to his sister Geills:
"Out on the awful old trail again! And with very mixed feelings,
but some determination. I am off to Val-cartier to-night. I was really
afraid to go home, for I feared it would only be harrowing for Mater,
and I think she agrees. We can hope for happier times.
Everyone most kind and helpful: my going does not seem to surprise anyone.
I know you will understand it is hard to go home, and perhaps easier
for us all that I do not. I am in good hope of coming back soon and safely:
that, I am glad to say, is in other and better hands than ours."
V
South Africa
In the Autumn of 1914, after John McCrae had gone over-seas,
I was in a warehouse in Montreal, in which one might find
an old piece of mahogany wood. His boxes were there in storage,
with his name plainly printed upon them. The storeman, observing my interest,
remarked: "This Doctor McCrae cannot be doing much business;
he is always going to the wars." The remark was profoundly significant
of the state of mind upon the subject of war which prevailed at the time
in Canada in more intelligent persons. To this storeman war merely meant
that the less usefully employed members of the community
sent their boxes to him for safe-keeping until their return.
War was a great holiday from work; and he had a vague remembrance
that some fifteen years before this customer had required of him