m he would never see again, so I
said, "Your head is all bandaged up. Of course you can't." He was one
of the first to be taken off in the ambulance, and I do not know
whether he is alive or dead. Our Canadians still held on with grim
determination, and they deserved the tribute which Marshal Foch has
paid them of saving the day at Ypres.

When they came out of the line, and I was living once again among
them, going from battalion to battalion, it was most amusing to hear
them tell of all their adventures during the great attack. The English
newspapers reached us and they were loud in their praise of "the
gallant Canadians." The King, General Joffre, and Sir Robert Borden,
sent messages to our troops. One man said, amid the laughter of his
comrades, "All I can remember, Sir, was that I was in a blooming old
funk for about three days and three nights and now I am told I am a
hero. Isn't that fine?" Certainly they deserved all the praise they
got. In a battle there is always the mixture of the serious and the
comic. One Turco, more gallant than his fellows, refused to leave the
line and joined the 16th Battalion. He fought so well that they decided
to reward him by turning him into a Highlander. He consented to don
the kilt, but would not give up his trousers as they concealed his
black legs.

The Second Battle of Ypres was the making of what grew to be the
Canadian Corps. Up to that time, Canadians were looked upon, and
looked upon themselves, merely as troops that might be expected to
hold the line and do useful spade work, but from then onward the men
felt they could rise to any emergency, and the army knew they could be
depended upon. The pace then set was followed by the other divisions
and, at the end, the Corps did not disappoint the expectations of
General Foch. What higher praise could be desired?

My billet in Vlamertinghe was in a neat little cottage owned by an old
maid, who took great pride in making everything shine. The paymaster
of one of our battalions and I had a cheerful home there when the poor
old lady fled. Her home however did not long survive her absence, for,
some days after she left, it was levelled by a shell. The church (p. 073)
too was struck and ruined. Beside it is the military cemetery within
which lie the mortal remains of many gallant men, amongst them the two
Grenfells, one of whom got the V.C. There I buried poor Duffy and many
more. The other chaplains laid to rest men under their