Letters From the Front

Dated: November 29, 1916

My Dear Father & Mother

I trust that you will forgive me for writing you on the typewriter, but I am now in the office of one of the orderly rooms, I will say, and am awaiting work, so in the meantime I shall take the opportunity of writing you. I am at least temporarily placed in this work not of my own choice for a soldier has only to obey. Each of the C.A.M.C. on being shifted here was obliged to state what his civilian occupation was and each is being placed in the field of work in which he is most efficient. Hence I am here.

Doubtless you have heard before this of the death of Dave. I take this opportunity, Mother, of expressing to you my sincerest sympathy and heart felt feelings for you as you bear this, another bereavement in your own family. At such a time as this and also a death under such circumstances, as was Dave’s, bears with it a certain amount of satisfaction at least. Dave bore his sufferings, which were by no means meagre, like a man and he died as a man, gladly giving his life for the cause of liberty and civilization. I rejoice that I saw him only a week ago. On reaching England our Battalion was “Confined to Barracks” for ten days and so it was impossible for men to go to the hospital. As soon as it was lifted however I went over in the pouring rain one Sunday afternoon, and found him in a private nursing institution receiving every care that it was possible for him to get. I fear that I should not have known him; at least I had to take a second look. It appears that Dave was sent over with a draft from England and on his arrival at the scene was sent up as reinforcement with others. On reaching the front line of trenches it was found that the reinforcements were not needed. The most of the men returned but Dave desired to stay and so did. It was apparently not an hour later until he was struck by shrapnel and laid out. He received three wounds on the head, leaving a large cavity in the back of the head behind the right ear, and also was struck in the hip fracturing the hip and knee. He however was recovering very well from the wounds when diphtheria set in. At least he took this trouble after being wounded. He was gotten to England from Boulogne Hospital by Dr. Reason of London, a great friend of Uncle Jim’s. Everything possible was done for him. It appears that his lungs also were seriously affected and it is thought he had also a slight attack of pneumonia. The poor chap certainly had more than his share. When speaking to me of his wounds he pushed up his sleeve and showed me his arms. He was absolutely helpless being for weeks in a cast, but his arms, well I should have declared that they were the arms of a corpse had he not been able to move them and speak. He failed something incredible and was, to put it mildly, simply a skeleton. He said, “Jack I think that I have received more than my share”, as his eyes filled with tears. He always told the nurse that he was going to get better but she says that she knows it was only his pluck that kept him up. I received a telegram from the Hospital authorities stating the death of Dave and giving also the date and time of his funeral. It was held Monday the 27^th from the Shorncliffe Hospital and he was interred in the Garrison Cemetery. Roy was in London and was coming down to see Dave when he was informed on reaching the hospital that his funeral was to be held in a couple of hours. I was surely glad to see him. We were confident that it would be comforting to the folks at least to know that Dave’s relatives were there. The funeral was of course military, the coffin being carried on the gun carriage and covered over with a Union Jack. A Canadian Chaplain conducted the service and over the grave and coffin were placed several wreaths. Capt. (Dr) Reason giving one, and the Nursing Sister, who was a very great friend of Lord Kitchener also, placed another on the coffin. The nurses that attended him were also present. The service and ceremony were carried out in a very reverent manner. The Cemetery is on the slope overlooking the English Channel, just outside the city of Shorncliffe. Capt. Reason of the hospital cabled Uncle Jim, as to whether he would prefer to have the body placed in a steel casket and preserved until the end of the war when it could be sent to Canada. He received no reply up to the time set for the funeral, so had him buried here. I myself think it was much the better plan, for in the first place it is much better that they remember Dave as they last saw him, rather than he was at the time of his death and it would also revive again the sorrow or the wound which by that time will have partially healed. I know that there is a bit of sentiment however, about having him buried at home with his loved ones, which is a worthy plea, but under the existing circumstances I think it is a wiser plan to lay aside sentiment and adopt the plan that is most reasonable.

This letter I have tried for the past week to complete and get off to you, but we have been so busy here that it has been impossible. You see, I am employed, I think now, definitely in the Head Office of the A.D.M.S. Canadians as clerk and stenographer. This seems like a permanent position which was sought not by me, but it seems it sought me. I was paraded to the head officer as a clerk and he immediately asked me if I could run a typewriter and I answered him that I could run one but was not very speedy at same. “Sit right down”, he said and I have been sitting right down now ever since. Just tonight the Officer under whom I was supposed to be working and who is in the same office said to the Officer: - “You see that man”, pointing to me. “Yes”, the officer replied, “and he is a damn good one”. Well the other replied, “I have only loaned him to you, and I want him”. The Head Officer replied again, “I have something to say about that. I have grave doubts about you getting him.” They both then went out, and what ensued I do not know. I would much prefer to stay where I am, and think that the Head Officer will have his way. He is a fine man to work for.

From our office window we overlook the English Channel, and if Heinie should ever take it upon himself to bombard our coast he will surely hit us first. He has mighty slim chances however.

People may ask, “What is the British Fleet doing?” The British do not answer audibly this rather foolish question but just let Heinie come out of his hiding and attempt to molest the coast and he will receive a sudden start. At night we can see all along the horizon the lights of the cruisers guarding the coast. Little does the world know what is owes to the men who man these vessels. Knowing that these men are there, the millions of people on these little islands can lie down peaceably at night confident that they are safe. It is only when one realizes the dangers that they are exposed to, namely when crossing the ocean or living on the coasts, that they come to a full appreciation of the meaning of the British Fleet.

You doubtless read of the recent raid on the English Coast, when two zeppelins and an air ship tried to bombard the coast. The whole three of them were brought down. The two zeppelins were brought down in the ocean and the airship by the French on its way back. The British airmen pursued the zeppelins before they had done any damage whatever, mounted away above them and poured liquid fire down upon them and set them on fire. They say that the country was lit up for miles and miles by the light of the burning machine. The crew apparently were burned to a crisp and lost in the ocean. Such are the perils of attempting to molest England. They say that the people of the cities nearby nearly went crazy as they watched the machine descend. War is truly Hell, and the more I read about this war and hear from those who have been to the front the more I am convinced that God has in a measure allowed the world to reap what it has sown, and has in a measure withdrawn his restraining hand. “He that letteth will let.” But I have still the faith to believe the God has not left the ship, while he may be asleep on the deck in the midst of the storm. Let us earnestly pray that the storm may soon abate and that the lives that have been so willingly sacrificed may not been sacrificed in vain, but that as a result the world may know an era of unparalleled peace and prosperity and when man shall learn to love his fellow man and to live by the Master’s injunction, “Love thine enemies.”

I trust that this letter finds you all well, and that you find your greatest joy in life in the service of the Master whom it is our duty and privilege to serve.

Since reaching England I have received no mail whatever. That is three weeks. It is being congested somewhere.

WRITE. PLEASE

With all kinds of love, I am,

JACK IMRIE