My sister, in spite of her tears, could not keep back the smile as I
again kissed her good-by.
It was about noon next day when I reached Valcartier and after a month
of solid work, the like of which I had never before experienced, I was
as hard as a nail, and as tough, as indeed was every man in that honor
division of Canada's expeditionary forces.
We received orders to leave for England on the 14th day of September,
1914. I was detailed on a gun limber of my subsection of the First
Battery, the artillery being the arm of the service to which I was
assigned. Starting about 4:30 in the afternoon, in torrents of rain, we
headed for the city of Quebec. Along the way the people had thoughtfully
built large bonfires on either side of the road, serving the double
purpose of lighting our way during the night and enabling us to jump off
and warm ourselves, as we were thoroughly chilled.
The road was in a horribly bad condition and the rain did not improve it
any, and while the limber was lurching from side to side, like a ship
staggering in a storm, it was the better part of wisdom for me to keep
my eyes open to save myself from being thrown off and having my precious
neck broken.
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