Private Peat | Page 4

until five-thirty, and ... yes,
it did ... pork and beans, bread and tea appeared once more.
Neither officers nor non-coms knew very much at the start, but they
were a bunch of good scouts. And we were all very enthusiastic, there
is no doubt about that. Soon we began to realize that if we would put
our shoulders to the wheel and work hard we would certainly see
service overseas.
[Illustration: ©_Famous Players--Lasky Corporation. Scene from the
Photo-Play_
THE SONS OF DEMOCRACY.]
[Illustration: SOUVENIRS BROUGHT BACK FROM "OVER
THERE."
The enemy calls the Canadian a "Souvenir Hunter." It must be
remembered the author is a Canadian.]
As a private soldier and no matter how humble my opinion may be, I
must give the greatest praise and credit to the organizer and founder of

Camp Valcartier, at that time Colonel Sir Sam Hughes ... the then
minister of militia for Canada. We had about three miles of continuous
rifle range; and good ranges they were, considering they were got
together in less than two weeks. I will admit that the roads leading to
the ranges were nothing to brag about, yet, taking it all in all, even they
were pretty good.
By this time the majority of us had received our uniforms and our
badges, and had been given a number, and instructed to mark this
number on everything we had. Mine was 18535.
We had no "wet" canteens at Valcartier, so we were a very sober camp.
Each battalion had a shower bath, and there was no excuse for any man
to be dirty. Even at that it was not very long before those little
"somethings" which are no respecters of persons, be he private,
non-com, commissioned officer or general, found their way into the
camp. I'll never forget the first gray-back I found on me. I cried like a
baby, and old Bill sympathized with me, saying in consoling tones that
I'd soon get used to them. Bill knew.
For amusement at Valcartier, we had free shows and pay shows, also
moving pictures. The pay show got to be so amusing that we made a
bonfire out of it one bright September night, and found it more
entertaining as a conflagration than it ever had been as an entertainment.
At all events, that was how one of the boys of the Fifteenth Battalion
put it.
The second week in camp we were inoculated, and again examined for
overseas service. Through some very fine work, I escaped the
examination, but could not get out of the inoculation. We were
promised three shots in the arm, but after the first I resolved that one
was more than enough for me. German bullets could not be worse, I
thought, and when I got one I didn't change my mind.
As the days wore on we grew more and more enthusiastic. Already
rumors were spreading that we would be leaving "any time now" for
France. The excitement certainly told on some of the boys. In my
regiment no less than nine, I guess they were ex-homesteaders, went

"nutty." One chap, I recall, killed hundreds of Germans on the bloody
battle-fields of Valcartier. The surgeon assured us the mania was
temporary.
We were pretty thoroughly equipped by the end of the third week,
when we were given puttees instead of leggings. It was sure funny the
way some of the boys looked when they first put them on, for many of
them got the lower part of the leg much bigger than the upper part, but
of course that might happen to any one who had never seen puttees
before.
There was considerable grumbling about these same puttees, because,
at first, they were undoubtedly very uncomfortable. However, before
many days the majority of us were ready to vote for puttees
permanently, as they proved warmer, a greater support to the leg on
long marches and more nearly waterproof than their more aristocratic
brother leggings.
It was during the third week of camp life that we had our first review.
We gave the salute to the Duke of Connaught, who was accompanied
by Sir Sam Hughes. After this review, we were told that we might
expect to leave for France at two hours' notice.
The following days we spent on the rifle ranges and in making fake
departures. I wrote home to my friends more than once that "we were
leaving for the front to-day," but when the next day arrived we were
still leaving. I sent my mother six telegrams on six different days to say
that I would start for France within the next hour, but at the end of it we
were still to be found in the same old camp.
Finally, on the first day of October, 1914, our regiment boarded the