He tried Canada as a fortune
making ground. Lingered a while in Calgary, and when war broke out enlisted
in the now famous Fighting Tenth.
Peter came up from Salisbury to see us. He met me in town a few times. We
lunched, dined, did a theater. He brought pals with him. There was Sandy
Clark. Poor old Sandy! I have his collar badge C10. Another soldier took it
off his tunic for me before they buried him. A sniper got Sandy in June,
1916.
There was Farmer. He was a signaler, and was transferred. I saw his name
listed killed, too. I don't know where. There were half a dozen other
Canadian boys, Peter and myself. We lunched one day at Pinoli's in Rupert
Street. We pledged to our next meeting after the war at the same place. We
shan't meet at Pinoli's. There is none of the boys alive. I only live of
all the party. It was a strange thing that day. I did not know it would be
the last time I should see Peter, but he came back from down the street and
kissed me "good-by" a second time. I wondered. Old man Peter.
The war has come home to our family. There is none of us left. Tom Small,
my step-brother, is still living and still fighting.
Pages:
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217