BX April 1, 1915

Has No Complaints To Make About Life – Robert Little, of Brantford, Writes Cheery Letter From the Front – Has Been in the Trenches and Under Fire – No Scarcity of Good Wholesome Food

Cheery and interesting are two letters received this week from Pte. Robert Little, a member of the 1st contingent that left Brantford for the front and now a member of the 79th Cameron Highlanders. One was addressed to his mother, who resides at 4 Gordon Street and the other to a friend in the city. In neither has he any complaint to make. While away he expects to have to do without all the comforts of a home but willing to make any sacrifice for his King and country and the spirit in which he writes shows him to be a true Britisher. In his letter to his parents he says:

March 14, 1915

Dear Mother and Father,

I received your two welcome letters on the 12th, while we were in the trenches. They take a good while to come but as we are always moving around it takes some time to locate us. We have now been in the trenches three times and are just out after four days. You were saying you had seen a letter from the 48th in the paper; well as we have only been in France 3 weeks, I don’t see how he could get a letter to Canada and word back here in that time. There is no knee deep water in any of the trenches we’ve been in. The trench we were in for the last four days was laid with brick and quite dry. We get all kinds of grub. I guess that chap must be a grouser or he wouldn’t have complained before he was five minutes in the trenches. We were in only 24 hours the first time and carried our rations with us. The dug outs are covered in with straw on the floor which is always dry as it is raised from the ground.

No Scarcity of Food

We have had as much as we could eat, and of course don’t look for luxuries. This is what we have some days in the trenches. Breakfast: bread and bacon with tea; dinner, Irish stew, in tins which just require heating; supper, tea, bread, jam and cheese. The bread may be short sometimes but we have all kinds of biscuits (hard tack) which are great if fried with the bacon fat. You see we cook our own meals.

Sometimes we have packets of soup instead of stew for a change, so what better do we want. I haven’t had my socks changed for the four days as they have never been wet. Of course it would be a different matter during the winter and we have them to thank for the trenches being in such good condition. I would just as soon be in the trenches as the billets so long as the weather is good, which it has been for a while now. 

Go In at Nights

We always go into the trenches at night, usually for four days then we have four days rest in billets. All the fighting on our part is artillery duels and I guess we have the best of it. The Germans shoot star shells in the air at night, which burst into a very bright light; they seem scared of an attack, which of course will come off some day. We see them shelling aeroplanes occasionally but I haven’t seen one hit the mark. I think the Germans lost a lot of ground when the British attacked on the 10th, we heard the noise of the battle on our right. We get a supply of cigarettes and tobacco weekly, so don’t send any here. You can send chocolates or candy if you like, but nothing else as we get everything we need and a friend is waiting for me to send for socks but I have a good supply and get time to wash them occasionally.

Duffs Have Been In It

Yes, the Duffs have been in the trenches but not in action as there isn’t much doing in the trenches and they never made an attack. You would know that by the single casualty that was mentioned in the paper. We got the news of the advance in the trenches the same day but we have to see the papers to know what’s going on, and they are usually four days old. Letters take about four days to come from Britain so we get an answer in little over a week. I guess this is all the news at present. Hoping this finds you all in the best of health as I am in the pink. Remember me to all enquiring friends. Kind regards to all.

Your loving son
Rob

March 7, 1915

Dear Friend,
 
Received your welcome ----

Back safe again. We were shelled on Thursday in a ruined farm, but we all ran to the dugouts till it was over. There’s not much fighting out our way and we only have the snipers to fear. We are billeted in a large straw barn and it is a very comfortable place. There is to be a service held in it tonight, Sunday, but I guess I'll be asleep when it starts, as I've been on guard since last night and am just off again.

This is just like the old country, as we feel quite at home here already. I saw lots of Peebles chaps who are out here, but as we are always on the move I may not see them for a while again. We get cigarettes and tobacco every week so we can always get smokes.

I haven't seen any of the boys yet. Saw a Brantford chap on Wednesday, when we were going to the trenches, but didn't have time to speak to him. The enemy keeps the trenches well lighted, as they are continually sending up star shells, which give a very bright light. We sleep most of the day while in the trenches and cook our own meals, which are supplied to us every night. We are pretty safe from attack, as there are all kinds of barbed wire in front and we are always on the lookout between the sandbags. We always go in and out for four days. All our letters are censored and we are not allowed to write names of places. There are not many luxuries out here, but we are satisfied so long as we get lots to eat. I wrote home through the week and will be writing on Tuesday again.

The weather is pretty good, but the least rain makes the roads very bad. I guess this is all the news. Hoping you are in good health, as I'm O.K. at present.

Yours,
Rob

BX July 19, 1915

D.C.M. For Pte. Robert Little? – Unofficial News That Second Brantfordite Has Been Honored

Though no word has been officially received in this city, there is reason to believe that Robert Little, son of Mr. and Mrs. Little, 128 West Mill Street, who left here as a private in the First Contingent of Dufferin Rifles, and who has since been promoted to the rank of lance-corporal has been awarded the Distinguished Conduct Medal. Last week a resident of this city who resides in Eagle Place, received a communication from a friend in Scotland, in which it was stated that the name of Pte. Robert Little had appeared in a list, published by a Scottish paper, of soldiers who by their conspicuous bravery had merited and received official recognition.

Lance-Corporal Little, who at the time of his enlistment here was employed on the Lake Erie and Northern railway, and previously at the Cockshutt Plow Company’s plant had evidently at the time of writing his last letter to his brother, Trooper John Little of the 25th Brant Dragoons not learned of the award, although he tells in some details of his conduct under recent fire, which would undoubtedly have deserved the D.C.M. The letter Follows: 

June 12, 1915
France

Dear John,

Received your welcome letter with few lines from Bob and will send him a letter when I have some time to spare. Yes, you guessed right. We certainly were in the thick of it at Ypres. We had to advance about 250 yards in face of a terrible fire. Many fell at the first volley and the cries of the wounded were awful. However, the boys went to it with cries of “Scotland and Canada Forever!” and we sure made some din. Fortunately the Germans hadn’t time to put up the barbed wire entanglements and we had a clear run. We jumped into the trench and finished the lot, then off through the wood where the Huns, who tried to make a stand, were put out of business.

There must have been thousands of Germans at the other end of the wood.  We had passed the guns, so we dug into the ground till we got the order to retire, going back and manning our captured trench.

In the morning about 5 o’clock I heard that a Hamilton boy was lying in a house on the right of the wood, so two of us went to bring him out. Instead, when I got to a door I saw a German, so covered him, as I saw he had no rifle.  He could say “Mercy,” and nothing else, so I made him understand that he had better come out or I would stick him. He came out limping and I took pity on him and gave him a help along with the other chap over to our trenches. One of the 10th Battalion officers was there with his leg broken, so I took two rifles and made an impromptu stretcher and carried him to the dressing station a quarter of a mile back. The ground in the rear was covered with dead and wounded and I volunteered to carry some of them back. We carried six and you may be sure I was dead beat, having had no grub all the time. About noon a colonel asked for a man to find out exactly where the Germans were and of course I took the job, although I was feeling rotten. I was the only Cameron there, so I got another chap to accompany me and we crawled up a hedge and along a ditch to the firing line, we were under fire all of the time. I got a rough plan of the German line and a position where we could put a maxim and reported back and it was very satisfactory. I was told not to risk going back till dusk, so lay around and took up ammunition at night. We were relieved in the morning and crawled along the ditch losing two or three men getting out. We got back a bit and had to dig in again. Then we went back near St. Jean and took up trenches, after making a trench for another regiment.

It would take a long time to give you particulars, but we moved around for 12 days then went out where we had a rest for a week. We walked about 18 miles to a village, were under shell fire the whole of the 12 days and saw the beautiful town of Ypres razed to the ground. After our rest we moved again 12 miles, I should say, where we held ourselves in readiness to be called out at any time. The great advance at Festubert was in the making and after a few days we were again in action at that place. The Royals (8th) had been there as we saw some of their dead and we advanced in broad daylight through heavy shell fire and made a trench, the furthest advanced along the line. The 16th charged and took an orchard the following night. It was a great undertaking, as two charges had been repulsed with heavy loss at the same place. You will see an account of it in Kerr’s. We are now at another part of the line and you may hear of some more scraps soon.

The weather is very warm and it is hard work marching in heavy order. We are resting just now and can get a bath, as the canal is pretty handy. Yes, I still keep in touch with Craigsford and Peter and have had a few parcels from both places. Hope this finds you in the best of health, as I’m in the pink. Kindest regards to Bob and yourself. 

Your loving brother,
Rob

BX August 21, 1915

What The Dragoons Have Been Doing Since Leaving Home – Review of Activities of Canadians After Leaving Valcartier and England – Private Robert Little Tells of Serving Both Ends of British Line, and Much of the Middle Section

Lieutenant Colonel G.H. Leonard of the 25th Brant Dragoons, received this week a most interesting letter from Pte. Robert Little, who left Brantford with the First Contingent of Dufferin Rifles, and who was in the disastrous but valorous attack of the Canadians at Langemarck.  Pte. Little describes minutely and graphically the advance of his battalion and the part he and the other Brantford boys took in the great battle and the letter which is given below is well worthy of perusal.
 
August 1, 1915 
Somewhere in Belgium,
 
Lieut.-Colonel Leonard,
25th Brant Dragoons 
 
Sir:
 
It has been my intention to write you for some time, but I have always put it off. You will probably know that I transferred to another regiment at Valcartier when I knew the Dragoons wouldn’t go as a unit.

We landed in France sometime in February and were in the trenches around Bois Grenier till April when we moved to another part of the line northeast of Ypres. It is nearly always the case that we do four days in the trenches and four in billets. We had done our turn and were resting at the billets (the loft above an Estaminet held half our company), when on the evening of the 22nd of April the Germans commenced to shell Ypres with guns of heavy caliber. The people began to flock along the road, mostly women and children, carrying what they could of their belongings. It was a sad sight to see them running aimlessly along the road with a look of terror in their faces, which made us think of the sufferings they had endured at the hands of the Huns in the past. The French soldiers now began to come down the road leading from the firing line most of them suffering from gas, which had forced them to abandon their trenches. The order was passed around to stand to arms and we took up a position on the south side of the canal, where we dug ourselves into the ground. After being there a short time we got the order to move again, going through St. Jean and making in the direction of Langemarck, where the Germans had entrenched in a wood. About half a mile from the wood we ditched our packs and fixed bayonets for the first time in real earnest. We then advanced in lines, in extended order, joining the 10th Battalion a bit farther on.

We must have got about 300 yards from the enemy when they opened up a terrible fire on us. The orders were that there should be no cheering nor shouting till we were close to the Germans, but with a shout of “Scotland and Canada forever” the boys rushed and took the trench at the point of the bayonet, then pursued the enemy through the wood, where those who put up any resistance were either shot or bayoneted.

We retired to the trench we had taken, strengthened it and held it till the morning of the 24th, when we were relieved by another battalion.

We were held in reserve, first to the British who were bringing up reinforcements, then to the French for eight more days. Then were taken back to billets for a well earned rest.

All the papers were full of praise about the Canadians “saving the situation,” and we were proud of the small part we had played in it, mingled with sorrow for the brave comrades we had lost.

We were reinforced and stayed in billets for about three weeks, and during that time, the French people having heard of the Canadian achievements treated us pretty well. We moved to the Festubert district, where a great British advance was in progress. We advanced under heavy shell fire, losing many men and dug a fire trench close to the German line, which must have been over a mile behind their original first line. The next night our battalion took an orchard which had been a great source of trouble and we were complimented by the general for what was considered a fine piece of work. We were heavily shelled in the reserve trenches during our three days’ stay there. Then we were relieved by the First Brigade, which did some very fine work. We had a rest and went back to the same place, but what a vast change. Hardly a shot was fired all the time we were there.

Our next shift was to Givenchy, where La Bassee could be seen about three kilometers distant, in the rear of the German lines. This is where the First Brigade made such a glorious charge, which showed the Germans they were up against something when they met Canadians.

During our time here we have been at both extreme ends of the British lines, not including the parts we have taken over between them.

I have met lots of the old Dragoons, including our “S.M.” Wm. Dawson, Steve Cara and Sergt. Rhodes, and have found them all in the best of spirits. We had a chat about the happy times we had at Niagara Camp and what we intended doing when we got back to Brantford, which I suppose is the brightest side to look at. We are in reserve just now and having a pretty good time. I believe this is the quietest part of the line we have held and we are never in a hurry to be relieved at this place. Some of the boys who have been here since the First Contingent landed are getting seven days leave in the Old Country, so I expect my turn will come around one of these days.

Hope this finds you in good health. I’m in the “pink.”  Wishing the best of luck to the old regiment. I have the honour to be sir,
 
One of the old 25th.

BX November 24, 1915

Vivid Word Picture of Life in Trenches as Painted by Pte. Robert Little, Brantford – Modern Warfare Consists Largely of Work, From Carrying Rations to Fixing Trenches, With Some Fighting Thrown in on Side – Night’s Sleep Goes in About 30 Seconds After Work

The following vivid word picture of life in the trenches was contributed by Pte. Robert Little, a member of the 25th Brant Dragoons, to a Belgian newspaper and forwarded by him to his old commander, Lieutenant Colonel H.F. Leonard, commanding D. Squadron:
 
Imagine yourself with the Canadian Scottish in a “rest billet” a few miles behind the firing line. Your temporary home is in a barn or hay loft alone with anywhere from 50 to 100 others who share your bedroom. A French or Belgian farmer’s home is so different from that of the average Canadian, that a brief description of one may not be out of place. As I heard one of our fellows say they seem to locate the manure heap first then erect the buildings around it. It is characteristic of the French farm that a manure and refuse heap occupies the centre of the courtyard, or rather the whole of the courtyard, or rather the whole of the courtyard with the exception of a cobble sidewalk around it. 
  
A Farm Layout
 
The dwelling house occupies one side. On another side you will find the cow sheds and stables. The granaries occupy another and on the fourth side will be found the cart sheds, pig stys, etc. The buildings are mostly of red brick and an archway leads out to the road. This short description covers roughly nearly all French farm houses in these parts.
 
Way To The Trenches
 
This farm has been your rest billet for the past four or five days and the battalion is under orders to proceed to the trenches. At the appointed hour you will fall into your place. After more or less delay you will move off on your three or four mile march to the trenches. A song is started or a mouth-organ jerks out some popular airs and you swing along trying to forget the 40 or 50 pounds of kit you are carrying. You are now passing through land laid waste by the invader. A heap of bricks and mortar marks the site of what was once a contented peasant’s home. The garden is a mass of weeds. A little further on a wayside cemetery, where fallen heroes are buried, is marked by a number of simple wooden crosses. An ambulance passes with its load of wounded on its way from the dressing station to the hospital; a gun booms in the distance and a shell shrieks overhead as you are beginning to realize what war is. You now leave the main roadway and cross a field in single file. Soon you reach a communication trench and it is now getting dark.
 
Snipers At Work
 
A sniper’s rifle barks up in the firing line and in the darkness you imagine you are much nearer the firing line than you really are. The enemy’s snipers are busy tonight and a few bullets come your way. If you are observant enough you will become familiar with the different notes of a bullet. The spent bullet has a “whine” which dies away gradually.

The strong bustling chap has a sharp business like “ping” when he passes near you, and you feel sure that it passed within a couple of inches of your head. Probably half a dozen others are thinking the same thing. After you seem to have walked all over France through a zig-zaging communication trench, which is really only a few hundred yards in length you reach the firing line. Your sergeant will place you along with three or four others in a dugout, if there are enough of them to go around and you lose no time getting your pack off. Your shoulders feel as if a red hot iron had been laid across them and you are ready to sleep your head off.
 
Thirty Second Sleep
 
You will make as good a bed as possible under the circumstances and after you have slept about 30 seconds, at least it seems no longer, you hear your name called. You think you have been dreaming, but a poke in the ribs with the butt of a rifle helps you to realize that it is 1 a.m. and it is your turn for sentry. Before you are really awake you have grabbed your rifle and taken up your post at the parapet. The silence is only broken by the occasional sharp crack of a rifle or the pom-pom, pom-pom of a machine gun. Away across the German line you may even hear the faint rattle of wagon wheels. Someone mutters in his sleep, and silence again – a silence you can almost feel, until a sentry on your right informs you in a hoarse whisper that the “wire patrol” is returning and will enter your trench on the left. You pass the word along to the next sentry. Some distance along the line a star shell goes up from the German lines, lighting up everything. A shot rings out and you hear the bullet, which has gone high “slamming” its way through the darkness. The sentry next to you startles you by firing at something he thinks he sees, the crack of his rifle, the “spat” as the bullet strikes the German parapet are almost simultaneous.
 
Returns The Compliment
 
An “Allemand” returns the compliment and as the bullet zips past unpleasantly close you move along to the next angle of the traverse in case “Fritz” comes a little nearer next time. Again there is complete silence and the tall gaunt trunk of a tree, the branches stripped off long ago, with shell and rifle fire, stands out like some lone sentinel. Soon the order “Stand To” is passed along the trench and every man stands to arms. Almost before you realize it the sky is turning grey in the east and dawn is creeping in. “Stand To” takes place every morning before dawn and lasts till daylight is well in. That period is a favorite time for an attack and everyone is on the alert and ready for any attempt the enemy may make to take the position. After “Stand To” is over you will probably find a few sticks, light a fire in an old tin, and cook your breakfast, which consists of bread, or biscuits, jam and a slice of fat bacon, made all the more enjoyable by the presence of a keen appetite.

By this time the sun is well up, and after a smoke, you will feel like turning in for a snooze till noon. Your dinner consists of tea, or cocoa, if you have it, bread and jam with perhaps a bit of fresh meat. Failing the fresh meat, you will have a tin of “bully.”  If you care to eat it. Supper is the same as dinner, minus the meat, with hard biscuit instead of bread, if your appetite at noon exceeds your good judgment, causing you to eat all your bread for dinner.
 
A Nights Work
 
You are now ready for your night’s work, which commences soon after dusk. You fall in with the particular fatigue party you have been detailed off to. You may be on the ration party and go some distance behind the firing line to meet the ration wagons which bring the battalion’s rations for the following day up from the quartermaster’s stores of bully beef. You will rail at the fait which makes you carry about a ton (by the time you reach the firing line it weighs a little over two tons) of “bully” which nobody eats, and you will have a strong temptation to drop it in the first ditch you come to and save the trouble of burying it when cleaning up the trenches later. When ration fatigue is over you may set out for barbed wire or sand bags. Barbed wire is, if anything, a shade worse than bully beef to carry, and if you are wise you will endeavor to get sand bags, picking your bundle up with sundry little gasps and grunts to let the N.C.O. in charge understand how heavy your particular bundle is (otherwise he may give you two bundles to carry). Then again you may be sent on a burial party. If there have been recent activities on your part of the line. Then there is the eternal working parties repairing trenches that are never finished. You are not sorry when your nights work is finished and you are back into your trench. It will soon be “Stand to” so you don’t turn in, though you feel you could sleep for a week. After breakfast you will curl up in your corner and sleep the best part of the day if the artillery or the sergeant does not disturb you.
 
Thankful For Bed
 
In four or five days your spell in the trenches is over. You may have another four or five days to do in reserve, then back to the rest billet again for a well-earned rest of four or five days. You are thankful for the straw bed and glad to get your boots off. You have had a fairly quiet time in the trenches and there have been few casualties. You are ready for a good rest among the straw. Some wit asks you if you will have your breakfast in bed or will he call you. Another wit is wondering (aloud) whether he will go to a picture show or spend the evening at a theatre. You throw a boot at him and tell him where to go, and soon you are dreaming the war is over and you are back in your old haunts.

After a few days “rest” which by the way consists mostly of company drill to keep you from getting stale, you once more do duty in the trenches and each spell brings some new experience. If you come through the war, you will be able to look back on your experience in France as being a greater adventure than any you ever dreamt would enter your otherwise peaceable and rather hum-drum life. You will never forget. You will know what modern warfare consists of.

BX January 19, 1916

Christmas Day Saw Truce Held By the Fighters – Corporal Robert Little Tells How British and German Soldiers Fraternized – Left Trenches – Bolder Spirits on Both Sides Climbed Parapets and Exchanged Greetings – Christmas Day Happily Spent by Canadians

The following letter was sent by Lance Corporal Rob Little, 16th Battalion, Canadian Scottish, to his parents, Mr. and Mrs. R. Little, describing how they spent Christmas day on the firing line in Belgium.

December 27, 1915

Dear Mother and Father,

Christmas Eve found us in the firing line and everything was as usual – a few rifle shots once in a while, then silence. We rather liked the idea of spending Christmas in the firing line as we expected Fritz would be a little more friendly on Christmas Day, after hearing so much about him last year.

At “stand-to,” which is before dawn, Fritz shouted over, wishing us a Merry Christmas, which we politely returned. Nothing out of the usual happened until after day break on Christmas morning, then a few of the Germans got up on the parapet and we did likewise, exchanging the greeting of the season. The truce had commenced. We had orders not to fire, and no one was to be allowed to go out in the front, but one of our chaps, seeing two of the Germans who were more bold than the rest, come along carrying a white flag, went out to meet them. They shook hands amid great cheers from both sides and after talking for some time and exchanging souvenirs, one of the German machine guns opened fire (well overhead) as a warning that they had been out long enough. The Germans told him they were pleased to see that we had not fired on them, and although we were plainly visible and within good shooting distance not a shot was fired from either side during the whole of Christmas day.

During the day some of the boys had a sing-song and the Germans showed their appreciation by loudly applauding after each song.

It seemed rather strange to me that such a thing should happen – men on either side walking in the open in full view, and today (the 27th) it would be almost certain death if anyone showed their head above the trench for an instant.

Well we did not have turkey for our Christmas dinner, although we fully made up for it with the good things we had brought in with us, and we are also looking forward to having a good time at New Year’s, when we will be back in the billets for our usual four or five days rest.

We have not been forgotten by the people of Canada, each one having received a pocket-book, eatables, and other things too numerous to mention, and we are thankful to them for remembering us.

The weather is very mild taking into consideration the time of the year, but we get much rats in this country and of course the trenches are hard to keep in good condition. However, we can’t complain much. We have rubber boots to wear if needed and can smile when we think of the state Fritz’s trenches must be in. Our engineers have a habit of draining our trenches so that Fritz gets the water, and we can see them shovel out the mud and know they are too busy to bother about us. I can see by your last letter that you think we have a hard time out here, but if you could only look in to our dugout when we have a good fire going, with a favorable odor issuing from the stew pot!  We are well supplied with meat. You would probably hear that bully beef was on our menu, but that is now very seldom. To safeguard the feet against frostbite or trench feet, as it is called here, a plentiful supply of whale oil is always to be found in the trenches, so you will see they try all things possible to ensure the health of the troops.

It is very seldom we are strafed by the German artillery, for the simple reason that we make a point of sending about six back for each one received. Dead ones (that is, these that don’t explode) we count as live ones, and they find it is much better keeping quiet. I am quite certain the Allies will have the Germans well beaten before another Christmas comes round, and if my usual luck continues I hope to be home some time next summer. I did not get this posted in the trenches and we are now back in billets till after New Year’s. Trust this finds you all in good health. I’m in the best.

Your loving son,
Rob

BX July 7, 1916

Graphic description of Canadians at Ypres – Lance Corp. Rob Little, Canadian Scottish, tells interestingly of the Canadians – Artillery work of British was most effective, and Canadians got in easily. 

Lance Corporal Robert Little of the 16 Battalion (Canadian Scottish) in a recent letter to his parents, who reside at 12 West Mill Street, gives a graphic description of the German attack at Ypres, in which his battalion took an active part. He left Brantford with the 25th Brant Dragoons, but was soon transferred and has since been through the battles of Ypres, Langemarck and St. Julian. The letter is as follows:
 
On the evening of June 3 we were lying in billets a good distance behind the firing line. It must have been about 7 p.m. when the order came round for us to be ready in light marching order as the Germans had broken through the part of the line held by the third division and that we were to take it back.

I should say it was 9 p.m. when we got the order "Fall in" and in a very short time we were on our way to the firing line, confident that the Germans would very soon be back in their own lines. After marching about four miles we halted so that any unnecessary equipment could be left on the road with a guard, as we must make a forced march to reach the trenches before daylight, as troops had to move in this section by night owing to the Germans being able to observe a part of the road we had to travel.

It was just breaking day when we arrived at our appointed position and although a charge was made that day with some success we did not participate, although we supported the two battalions that did charge. We expected to have to go at night, but it didn't come off so we were held there for five days and during that time the guns on each side seldom ceased firing. On the fifth day we were told that we would make a charge that night, but the weather had been so bad that they decided to give us a rest and in that time the artillery preparation would make it a walk-over for us, as the general told us later.

We were back to our position on June 11, but waited there till next day. While out for one short rest we had a talk from the general, who stated how many guns we had to back us up. He said: "you boys will have a walk over; there will be very few Huns left, but I hope there are some, for you will show them something, I wouldn't like to be a Hun."

On the night of the 12th we were in position for the charge and all the boys were joking with one another, although everyone knew grim work was to be done in a very few hours. The bombardment commenced at 1 a.m. on the 138th and continued for over an hour. Well, I have been in a few bombardments, but this was hell, especially when one was standing up to the knees in water. During a "strafe" it's the habit to keep as close to the ground as possible to avoid shrapnel.

If we were getting pounded the Huns were getting it worse, as when we got the order to go over the parapet, the boys were a few yards off the Huns' trench before they realized that we were on them. Our artillery had done splendid work. Fritz's barb wire was cut to pieces and we occupied the first line in less than five minutes. Fritz is very treacherous when you are a distance from him, but exceedingly docile when you get into his trench with bombs or 12 inches of bayonet.

A few of them, who must have been on sentry, started firing at our boys when they were near the trenches and threw down their rifles and started shouting "Kamarad, Kamarad," but believe me, our boys were avenged. After strafing them with bomb and bayonet we took about 200 prisoners who seemed mightily glad that their fighting days were over.

I had a talk with one of them (they were the Wurttenbergers). He could talk excellent English, and during our conversation I asked him when he thought the war would be over, and he told me August. Everyone in Germany, he said, is sick of the war, and although they don't want to fight, it's a case of have to. Our casualties were very light; in fact, if anyone had told me and I had not been in the charge I would not have believed it. In Fritz's case I believe we wiped out the whole battalion except for a few who made a get-away minus their equipment.

To give you an idea how complete was the surprise most of them had no time to put on their equipment, but whether it was surprise or fear which kept them in their dugouts, I could not say.  After we took the first trench we had to wait a stated time till the artillery raised their guns, then over the parapet again with the same small opposition, soon reaching the third German line, which was our objective, likewise our original front line, which is now consolidated and held by us. Of course it isn't all over when you take the trenches, for the German artillery started to pound our newly-won ground and continued more or less all day.

The Germans left all kinds of equipment in the trenches, most of which was new, which led us to believe they were new troops. There were also all kinds of cigars, which we heard had been given by the Kaiser for their good work. Well, we took both their cigars and the ground they had won. All the same Fritz got through a lot of work for the short time he held the ground. There were dugouts 15 feet deep, which sheltered them from shell fire, but which proved their undoing, for our bombers found them there and a bomb did a lot of damage. I couldn't say how many machine guns were captured, but I myself saw three of them.

We were supported by the 4th Battalion, and they relieved us. Needless to say everyone was glad we had regained all the lost ground, as we heard the Imperials were going to do it, and that was more than we would have liked. This is the third charge I have got through, and I think it has been the worst for shell fire. Our general was right when he said we would have a walk over; in fact, it was done on the trot.

It rained nearly the whole ten days before the charge and the ground was in a terrible condition, but the Canadian Scottish never failed on any special work asked of them.