ts. To-day there are only a few hundred
men entitled to wear what now amounts to a badge distinction. Personally, I
feel prouder of my blue lapelette than of anything else I possess in the
world.

The so-called training that we were supposed to have in England was not
really any training at all. The rain was almost continuous, we were
constantly being moved from one camp to another, and training, as training
is understood to-day, was out of the question.

As I have said, our first camp in England was Pond Farm. It was well named.
Later we moved to Sling Plantation. However, it was at Pond Farm we had
some of our most grueling experiences. Many a night, owing to the awful
rains, we would have to move our tents sometimes in the middle of the
night. If any minister of the gospel--except our chaplain--had been
standing around on these occasions he might well have thought from the
sulphurous perfume of the air that every soldier was doomed to everlasting
Hades. But, after all, "cussing" is only a small part of a soldier's life,
and who would not swear under such extraordinary circumstances? Again, we
have authority for it. It is a soldier's commandment on active service--the
third commandment--and here is how it reads:

"Thou shalt not swear unless under extraordinary circumstances."

An "extraordinary circumstance" can be defined as moving your tent in the
middle of the night under a downpour of rain, seeing your comrade shot, or
getting coal oil in your tea. As a matter of fact, all minor discomforts in
the army are counted as "extraordinary circumstances."

Despite the weather conditions, and the fact that we did very little
training, the men in our battalion were enthusiastic and did their best to
keep fit. However, we all went to pieces when we were told, early in
December, that it was a cinch our battalion would never get to France as a
unit.

I'll never forget the day our captain broke the news to us. The tears ran
down his cheeks, and he wasn't the only man who cried. We were almost
broken-hearted to know we were to be divided, because Captain Parkes (now
Colonel) was a real and genuine fellow. He had taught us all to love him.
For instance, when after a long march we would come in with our feet
blistered, he would not detail a sergeant to look after us. He would,
himself, kneel down on the muddy floor and bathe our feet. If at any time
we were "strapped" and wanted a one-pound note, we always knew where to go