Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1917-09-07

ant, tired little man with a great bur
den to bear and not much of al idea
about how to bear it. He struck me
as an individual who would conscien-
tiously do his best In any situation, but
would w do or say anything with
the slightest suspicion of a punch to it.
A few days after his visit to the hos
pital l saw in the Official London Ga
zette that l had been awarded the dis
tinguished conduct medal. Official let
tiers from the Canadian headquarters
ampllfied this information, and a no.
tioe from the British war Office inform
ed me that the medal awaited me there.
I was told the king knew hat the
medal had been awarded to me when
he spoke to me in the hospital. De-
spite glowing reports In the Kentucky
press he didn't pin it on me. Probably
he didn't have it with him, or perhaps
he didn't consider it good form to hang
a d. G. M. on a suit of striped presenta-
ton pajamas with a prevailing tone of
baby blue.
While 1 was In the King George hos
pital l witnessed one of the most o
derful examples of courage and pluck
I have ever seen. A young Scot only
nineteen years old, McAuley by name.
had had the greater part of his face
blown away. The surgeons had patch
ed him up In some fashion, but he vas
horribly disfigured. He was the bright.
est, merriest man In the ward, always
joking and never depressed. His own
terrible misfortune was merely the top
ic for humorous comment with him.
He seemed to get positive amusement
out of the fact that the surgeons were
always sending for him to do some
thing more with his face. One day he
was going into the operating room and
a fellow patient asked him what the
new operation was to be.
"Oh," he said, I'm going to have a
cabbage put on in place Of a head.
It'll grow better than the one l have
now"
Once in a fortnight he would man
age to get leave to absent himself from
the hospital for an hour or two. He
never came back alone. 1t took a
couple of men to bring him in. On the
next morning he would say:
"Well, it was my birthday. A man
must have a few drinks on his birth
day."
l was discharged from the hospital
In the middle of February and sent to
a comfortable place at Hastings, Sus-
sex, where l lived until my furlough
papers came through. 1 had a fine
As-~o H. To,IN1 ~ AhA &IN1N. .-I
clubs pending my departure for home.
When my furlough had arrived l wen
to Buxton, Derbyshire, where the Ca
madam discharge depot was located.
and was provided with transportation
to Montreal. / came back to America
on the Canadian Pacific Royal Mail
steamer Metagama, and the trip was
without incident of any sort. We lay
for a time in the Mersey, awaiting
word that our convoy was ready to see
us out of the danger zone, and a de-
stroyer escorted us 400 miles on our
way.
I was informed before my departure
that a commission as lieutenant in the
Canadian forces awaited my return
from furlough, and l had every inten-
ton of going back to accept it, but
since l got to America things have hap
pened. Now it's the army of Uncle
Sam for mine. I've written these sto-
ries to show what we are up against.
It's going to be a tough game and a
bloody n and a sorrowful n for
many, but it's up to us to save the
issue where it's mostly right on one
side and all wrong IN the other-and
I'm glad we're in. I'm not willing to
quit soldering now, but I will be when
we get through with this. Because
when we finish up with all this there
won't be any necessity for soldering.
The world will be free of war for a
long, long time, and a Gods mercy
that.
TrTn NJ