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fair that at Rife you should have more or less
escaped its ruinous touch, & so I think its fine
to see the old place "still going on strong" - the
crop & the cattle, the store & the fur. But above all
may you both keep the same good health you now
enjoy & no real trouble cross your door - the door
of that dear snug little home that I took so much
pleasure and interest in building. True I've never
seen is real cosy, because I left before dear Maggie
arrived to put it ship shape, but I've got it sized
up in my mind's eye & nothing seems to me quite
so good & peaceful a picture as that spot on the
old homeshed, out in that great old wilderness that
we have now become so familiar with. To me
it was "home" & I know that if I ever get the
chance to go over the trail up from S. Paul & get
that distant view of "our place" as you come out
of the jack pines, above Stoney Creek, that I shall
experience the happiest moment of my life.
There are things that are & will be extremely
interesting & worth living through in this campaign
& I am [only?] interested because there is adventure &
action in it, but give me by preference an axe instead
of a bayonet, & peace instead of strife - give me
the industry of the Woods - trees to cut, logs to hew,
& sleighs & horses to work & our dear old home to go
back to, when the Sun goes down & we drop our work
or if not that, then give me another alternative - a
long, long trail by Winter or Summer "up north"
into that great lone land, with a companion - Guy or
Paul or better both - a life full of hardship -
some risks but sole satisfying in the fullest degree
& home as a far off dream (much as it is now)
a place we long to return to - some day.
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We were with you in thoughts on Christmas Day
& We knew you would also perhaps be thinking of us.
It was quite fair & cold for an hour or two, so it
was easy to picture Canada, where the Sun shines a
good deal. Such thoughts of home bring cheer
to the heart, but sometimes end in making one
a bit blue, for the question begins to press upon
one - "how long before we will see them again?"
Also, it would be a bit untrue to say we thought
of you constantly that day, for, if I remember right,
it set in to rain in the afternoon & eventually
[contrives?] to wash out all imagination from the
mind, so that we become more like so many
[1 word] cattle, as far as our brains are concerned.
Rain, monotony & discomfort have the dampening
effect of stripping you of all superfluous brain
waves & sentiments & leave you just the practical
human being. - That's all! The only thing that
removes you a bit from the animal is a saving
sense of humour, which, also in the end, gets
considerably washed out.
We are still at the Rest camp, where we are
having Divisional Rest. It has been of two
weeks duration & has been really quite a rest
in spite of our adverse criticism & disgust of
having to continue the same old drills that we
did months ago in England. We begin work
early but always knock off before dark & have
therefore the evenings & nights to ourselves; and of
course we now realize that a night's sleep is
a real luxury. The usual rest is usually of
5 or 6 days duration. Our time is now nearly up,
but we return to a different part of the line.
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We heard that a good deal of activity occured the
night after we left the part we last held. Our
billet is situated just by a canal - there are many
fine canals in this part of the World - We take a
lazy interest watching the lever bridge work & the
barges go by; there are also a number of hospital
barges (fine large ones) that go past. It is right
in the country where we are & there is a village
not far away, but it is "out-of-bounds" to
our battalion, tho' many of us (including ourselves,
of course) visit it pretty regularly of an evening.
It takes a good deal of scouting to find an estaminet
or cottage where the people are really nice & the
place fairly free from soldiers. Naturally, all this
war area is infested with British soldiers & in
spite of the quantities of estaminets they are full
"during hours"
We often manage to find something suitable &
this time have found one or two such places where
we are fairly well alone & where the people are
exceptionally clean & nice - quite refined. tho humble
folk.
- Jany 11th '16 - [right side of page]
In each of these places there happens to be a
pleasant & nice looking daughter (not a necessity of
course, but an attraction to "artistic" chaps like
Paul Guy & I!) & quite refreshing to look at,
after the dirty, slovenly looking people that make
up almost the majority in these poor parts.
To know French is a tremendous advantage & We
often get some very good [laughter?] out of it.
Our own section billet happens to be a very
dirty one & the water we have to drink and wash
in, is perfectly filthy - just a ditch where chaps
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wash in and also wash clothes. We are supposed
to use the water from the Regimental water case
for drinking purposes, but we are not always there
when it comes round. In some billets the
water is beautifully clean. The barn we lie in
is dirty (dirty straw) & lousy, so I believe we
are all a bit lousy too. In Winter they
don't get very bad, but in Summer they say
there is no escape from them & they get fierce.
Sometimes we are called out to do a bit of
interpreting for the officers, especially when new
billets are taken over.
So now we will soon be back where the
din & rattle goes on. The usual stay is 4 days
in the trenches & 2 or 3 days out & then
another 4 days in & 3 days out & so on & then
finally another Rest of 6 or 7 days. The 3
days "out" that comes between the 4 days spell in
are a great rest, but it does not mean that
we don't go into the firing line, but simply
means we get our nights rest in firing line
billets & work by day in the trenches on repairing
fatigues.
In these firing line billets we are always under
arms & often there is an alarm - perhaps the
same night we have come back from the trenches
& therefore need our rest rather badly - and from
our heavy slumber we are roused with the
unwelcome words: "Fall in", and then we
scramble for our equipment & rifle and [collect?]
out, in the dark road in "column formation"
& perhaps before we have gone a hundred yards,
a counter order comes "get back to billets, but
keep equipment on, you may be needed" -
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& no time is lost in getting back to the dab of
straw & blankets. As You know a more or less
continual bombardment goes on all the time
but sometimes a big coal bombardment comes
off for a few hours to repulse an action or
to cover a local attack from our men. And
on such a night, say when you are back in
billet & it is a wonderful sight - to see one of
these extra special bombardments come off. The
racket is terrific & the darkness is lighted up
like day, with continual splashes of fire. From
our batteries you can see the long straight white
streaks of flame that spit from these guns, one
after another, in rows & sometimes altogether in
"salvoes". It is like the booming of a tremendous
drum - the crash & roar shake the ground you
stand on & rattles doors & broken windows. It is like
a mid-Summer storm with sky full of fighting.
It is rather imposing sight & grand & a bit terrible
too, because it spells that tragic word: War
and expresses in it (in flame & thunder) all that
is defiance & hate implacable. Also it means our
men have gone. "over the top" or perhaps, the
enemy have tried to come over. In any case,
doubtless it means a number of little tragedies
to some poor chaps.
But I must quit now. I started this 2 or 3
days ago. We leave here to morrow or day after.
I have filled this letter with a number of insignificant
details, but I know you want a letter of
some sort & there's nothing really to mention.
I could willingly go back to the subject of you
dear Maggie & Maurice & your doings & the dear old
place out there, but I must quit somehwere.
Well good bye & I tell you straight there's no
place I think of so much nor so fondly as our
old home where we've spent so many happy
happy years. Well good luck & best of health dear
ones
Your loving brother
signed Georges
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Item is a letter written by Georges to Maurice and Maggie from France, January 9, 1916. In the letter, he reminisces about home in Alberta, describes his routines at the Front, alternating work in the trenches and on "rest," billets, acting as translator for the officers, and experiencing bombardments.
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France Jany 9/16 [top right corner]
Dear Maurice & Mag & those at home [centered]
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[in pen]
We got 2 letters from you Pumps recently & were very
glad to get them as you may imagine. We were pleased
Sylvia got that affair with the Matron settled & hope She
will find something to suit her. We are glad to know that
poor dear Grandmamman is feeling better & more composed
I hope. I will try & find time to write a few words to
poor Uncle Louis before our rest is up & we return to the trenches.
We got "Punch" numbers and enjoyed them very much
passed them on to other chaps when we had done with
them, but until now were not aware of the fact that
Mrs. [Pondehenge?] was the kind sender. Please thank that good
lady when you see her.
We were pleased to get the copy of your long letter home
Maurice & glad above all to know that you & your dear
Maggie are well. I'm much surprised and pleased to see
that trade is so good especially fur during war time. I
suppose the only market is U.S.A. Who can afford to
buy it, because of the millions they are making out of
the War. - Curious & sad it is to think that some
nations are reaping a gain out of so hideous a thing
as War! Especially such a war as this! Of course I
don't blame them. I am not sorry either that fur
is good, tho' it may be on that account & sincerley
hope you make a jolly good winter out of it.
Jolly good, too, that the store trade has bucked up so
and that the Ranch prospects are good. I hope that [the?]
fur trial will come off in your favour & I will be
anxious to hear about it.
Your fur trips North were most successful & I think
too that out of Winter profits you can afford to give
your dear Maggie a mink fur, as you propose. No place
in the World could have been less connected with politics
or anything that leads to wars & so I think it is only
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