ates and meetings with notable men--Welch, Futcher, Hurd,
White, Howard, Barker: voyages to Europe with a detailed itinerary upon
the record; walks and rides upon the mountain; excursion in winter to
the woods, and in summer to the lakes; and one visit to the Packards
in Maine, with the sea enthusiastically described. Upon those woodland
excursions and upon many other adventures his companion is often
referred to as "Billy T.", who can be no other than Lieut.-Col. W. G.
Turner, "M.C."

Much is left out of the diary that we would wish to have recorded.
There is tantalizing mention of "conversations" with Shepherd--with
Roddick--with Chipman--with Armstrong--with Gardner--with Martin--with
Moyse. Occasionally there is a note of description: "James Mavor is a
kindly genius with much knowledge"; "Tait McKenzie presided ideally" at
a Shakespeare dinner; "Stephen Leacock does not keep all the good things
for his publisher." Those who know the life in Montreal may well for
themselves supply the details.

IX. Dead in His Prime

John McCrae left the front after the second battle of Ypres, and never
returned. On June 1st, 1915, he was posted to No. 3 General Hospital
at Boulogne, a most efficient unit organized by McGill University and
commanded by that fine soldier Colonel H. S. Birkett, C.B. He was placed
in charge of medicine, with the rank of Lieut.-Colonel as from April
17th, 1915, and there he remained until his death.

At first he did not relish the change. His heart was with the guns. He
had transferred from the artillery to the medical service as recently
as the previous autumn, and embarked a few days afterwards at Quebec,
on the 29th of September, arriving at Davenport, October 20th, 1914.
Although he was attached as Medical Officer to the 1st Brigade of
Artillery, he could not forget that he was no longer a gunner, and in
those tumultuous days he was often to be found in the observation post
rather than in his dressing station. He had inherited something of
the old army superciliousness towards a "non-combatant" service, being
unaware that in this war the battle casualties in the medical corps were
to be higher than in any other arm of the service. From South Africa he
wrote exactly fifteen years before: "I am glad that I am not 'a medical'
out here. No 'R.A.M.C.' or any other 'M.C.' for me. There is a big
breach, and the medicals are on the far side of it." On August 7th,
1915, he writes from his hospital