Letters From the Front

Dated: June 21, 1917

The following letter was received by Mr. and Mrs. Hugh McDougall of Penhold, from their son, Lyle, on the eve of his departure for the trenches. Lyle first enlisted with the 13th C.M.R. stationed at Medicine Hat, later transferring to the 187th along with his brother, Vern. They parted on June 3rd, when Lyle was sent to France, while Vernon remained at Bramshott, he being under age for the trenches: only 18 next August, while Lyle was 19, in April.

Thursday, June 21st, 1917.
France

Dear Folks:--

Well, here I am still, the third Thursday at the Base, but I think we are about done with our training at the "bull ring." Still hot, with thunder storms quite frequent. Two or three mornings ago, Alf and I were sleeping outside, and just at "Reveille" one of those big long clouds came rolling over, like you see out west, and we had just time to pick up our junk and get inside a tent before it poured down. The next night I woke up in the middle of the night finding it raining, so we "picked up our bed and walked" inside the wash-house for the rest of the night. Yesterday we were in two showers and got pretty wet (the first time I have been wet through, while on parade, since joining the army).

So we managed to spear an empty tent last night. Alf (Pye) and I each got a parcel tonight, his from Mrs. Sam Pye, and mine from--I'll be darned if I know who it is from--it was a fruit cake and nut bars in a tin marked "Riley's Toffee, Halifax, England," sewed up in a cloth and tied with binder twine, so I guess it was from you. Could see no date on it, but Pye's was sent on April 30th.

We have quite a bit of fun at the "Bull Ring" with these Imperial Army Sergeant Instructors. You see, the Canadians and Imperials get somewhat mixed up while training here. Nearly every day some of us get to "chewing the fat" with them, and they always throw up to us that we get four shillings and seven pence a day while they only get a shilling. Of course it isn't fair. And we are sometimes referred to as a "Mob," and the Imperials as "soldiers." I guess you know there is no more discipline in the Canadian army than is absolutely necessary, but at the same time, when it comes to a route march of drill, I think we have got them beat, by what I have seen, anyway. The Canadians will "stick," and that is more than some Imperials do. The day we had the 16 or 18 mile march with packs they were were falling out right and left, and I saw only two Canadians drop out.

We had a Canadian Sergt.-Major for one period today, and he gave us a little advice about the trenches. He had been there for a couple of years. He says these so-called "blighties" are not so pleasant as some would seem to think. You know, when a man is wounded and returned to England, he calls that getting to "blighty." I think that is the Roman word for "home." This Sergt.-Major had 23 shrapnel wounds in his hips and legs, some of the pieces in there yet, and he says he can tell as good as any barometer when it is going to rain. He says he could tell us stories that we wouldn't believe, and that if his own mother had told him before he went through it, he would only have laughed at her, and then he said he wouldn't tell us anyway, because he knew the Canadians would only say "Bull." I guess it was pretty hard on the first troops who ran up against gas, when they had no gas respirators. He was one of them, and some time I will tell you how they withstood it. We carry two gas masks, now, one of which will stop any kind of gas ever invented. In some engagements men have worn them for fifteen hours steady. The Sergt.-Major also told us that when we had been wet through for about a week, and missed a few meals, just to take off our cap and look at the Maple Leaf badge, and we could "stick" anything.

We wear steel helmets now, good shade and don't leak when it is raining, but I think I would sooner have a Panama.

Do you remember Alex Bates, in Vancouver, who belonged to the "Boys' Brigade," and came up and got Vern's and my uniform one night? Well, he came over last night but Harold Fleming is still in England. The 72nd Band--the Seaforth Highlanders--marched us out to work this morning. Some of the players are the same as used to play in Stanley Park on Sundays.

There is a casualty who came back with us from England, a little Scotchman named McIntosh, who used to work for the City of Vancouver. I guess Papa will also know of Hay who was City Solicitor there; his pay being reduced from $8,000 to $5,000 a year, he quit and joined the army and has been killed. Some more of the 187th officers are over here now, our old "A" Company's Captain for one.

I am enclosing a snap shot taken in Witley Camp last February, just before going on one of our jaunts while quarantined. I am in the centre of the top row with Jack Leithead on my right and Alf Pye on my left. Vern is second from right flank on bottom row, and Corporal Haste (who helped to paint our house) is on the left flank. He is over here now, too. Hoping everyone is O.K., I am,

Your loving son,

LYLE