Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1916-04-05
CANADA'S SONS
PROUD OF PART
IN HEROIC FIGHTS
Wounded Canadians Pre-
sent Tragic But Inspir-
ing Figures
EAGER TO TELL STORIES
written Specially for the EVENING LEDoBn.
BY ELLEN ADAIR


| CANADIAN CAMP, 'SOMEWHERE-IN-
ENGLAND MARCH "a.
These valiant Canadians Here they
are again but many or them so broken
that 1t seems as II mot all the kings
horses nor all the kings men" could ever
mend them again For in this camp are
the men who fought so magnificently and
against such terrible odds in the first
fierce fighting of the war.
It's real spring day, and the buds are
bursting In the English hedgerows, How
green the fields look, starred with yellow
prmroses Violets and daffodils are
opening in the sunlight, and there's such
a peacefulness over the country side that
one can hardly think of war. Yet walk
along the winding lane where the violets
grow in dusky profuslon. turn to the left
and the sadness and the pain and the
heartbreak of war are with you!
Here they come, those lmplng Cana
dams The first man Is from winnipeg,
big stalwart fellow, but with eyes that
cannot see the sunlight. He wears the
gallant uniform of the Cameron High
landers. and his knees are bandaged. I'm
hoping that my sight will come back to
me some day" he says the doctors tell
me there's n little hope. I'm longing to
see the greenness of the English fields
Away in the distance comes the bleat-
Ing of the newborn lambs. 1t wakes old
memories in the camp and brings home
sick longing for the farms of Canada.
ITS hard to be so far from home in the
lambing season." says young rancher
wistfully though I'm afraid my prairie
days are done" Shouldering his crutches
he limps off by himself, for there are
times when human companionship and
even human sympathy are very hard to
bear.
In one of the huts lay a boy of 20 who
had fought heroically with the hrst
Canadian division. His leg and his right
hand had been amputated and his sight
was almost gone "The last thing 1 saw
clearly is something that / never shall
forget" said he, "the wide sweep of the
hills near Ypres which Overlooks the
graves of 100000 men!"
Such curious tales these wounded have
to tell Seldom about their own exploits,
but always about their friends. The
Canadian soldier is a bashful fellow when
1t comes to actual personalities Always
does he make light of his own valor.
Have you heard of Sergeant William
Tabernacle?" said one man, eagerly. He's
great friend of mine, and the finest
bomb thrower in the world His homes
way back in Ontario, but now he's some
where in France in n little dugout that's
just hung with the materials and tools
of his trade. It's a sight to see Bill fondle
his pet specimens of British, French, and
even German bombs, just as his old grand
mother used to fondle him when he was
Il kid !
Bill lives today for the explosion of
tomorrow. Before he came to France he
didn't understand what a bomb was-but
now he's crazy about them Some folks say
he's a little peculiar--he has his favorites
among the bombs, and gets mad II you
dare criticise the fuse, the detonating
charge or the explosive quality of any OF
them -
understand that Bill has lived so long
in cramped quarters, alternating five days
and nights of narrow trenches and low
dugouts, with five days and nights of tiny
huts in the reserve lines, that he's quite
forgotten what n dry, comfortable house
looks like, or the feel of the old-fashioned
four-poster he left behind in Canada. But
Bill is happy. He's n man of science now
lie loves every variety of explosive, From
the moment that the first enemy hand
grenade came hurtling into his trench,
tearing part of his clothes off in it's flight,
he rushed to his vocation as the needle to
the magnet! Quickly examining the un-
exploded invader, he found the stick and,
fitting 1t to n cone-shaped bomb of his
own, hurled II against the enemy'S loop
holes, with disastrous effect to the latter
Now he's the great bomber of the Ca
nadians, the accepted authority on that
subject. To him the inexperienced look
up with awe.
In one of the huts here in this camp
lies a crippled Canadian. He is young
and good-looking, but physically a wreck.
on a big sheet of paper pinned to the
wall above his bed he has written some-
thing in a shalIy hand Drawing nearer
| read the famous message from Canada.
delivered by Sir Robert Borden, Prime
Minister:
For those who nave fallen in this
struggle we shall not cease to mourn: for
the cause which they have consecrated
their lives, we shall not cease to strive.
We are supremely confident that that
cause will assuredly triumph, and for that
great purpose we are inspired with in
flexible determination to do our part"