For a hundred yards in every
direction the heads, arms and legs of the Scotch fighting men were
strewn all over the ground. It was one of those terrible things that is
a matter for the deepest concern and regret, and yet cannot be helped.
We were next ordered back to the wagon lines at Camblain-Chatillon,
arriving there on the evening of the 23rd of December, and preparations
for Christmas dinner were uppermost in the mind of every man. We were
delighted by a visit from the town authorities who asked us if we would
like to use the schoolhouse for our celebration and that we were most
heartily welcome to it, which offer we were most heartily glad to
accept, and the authorities proceeded at once to decorate the
schoolhouse in true holiday fashion, evergreens and lanterns filling
every nook and corner of the large room. The tables, of course, we
supplied ourselves.
For turkey we had a French pig purchased from a farmer for 300 francs,
each man chipping in three francs; new carrots, Irish potatoes, boiled
onions, cranberry sauce, the latter supplied by a large-hearted French
lady in the town, made up the accompaniment of the "Turkey.
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