Search The Archive

Search form

Collection Search
  • Notice: Trying to access array offset on value of type bool in oa_core_visibility_data() (line 607 of /app/profiles/viu/modules/contrib/oa_core/includes/oa_core.access.inc).
  • Notice: Trying to access array offset on value of type null in oa_core_visibility_data() (line 607 of /app/profiles/viu/modules/contrib/oa_core/includes/oa_core.access.inc).
Date: October 11th 1917
To
Lulu
From
Tom
Letter

1 Up East Ward,
Lord Derby War Office,
Warrington.
Oct. 11., '17.

My dear Lulu

Here I am still, unmoved & apparently immovable. In another week I suppose you will be at home Lulu, after what I trust is a very happy holiday. How I would like to be by your side listening to the roar of Niagara. And here I am eating good English food which is so much needed here by those who work & fight. Well, all in good time I suppose I shall be crossing the Atlantic; & then my dear Lulu, I hope to be with you.

You would be shocked at my dreadful loss of dignity these days. I am afraid. Ever since my experience in France, nothing in looks seems to matter. Nearly every day I make trips to Manchester to be with my relatives; & nearly every day I think it will be my last I think I know every conceivable way of getting there. I have gone by street cars & walking the miles where no cars run. I have gone by bicycle. I have gone by train, running the gauntlet of military police who have orders not to allow any hospital patient to use the railways without a pass. I have jumped on motor lurries running between Liverpool & Manchester, often getting as black as a nigger in transit, & alighting from my undignified position in the middle of the city. Nothing seems to matter. When I get back to Canada you may find me "riding the buffers" as a hobo. Talk about ministerial dignity! It is dreadful.

What an awful job you will have to make me into a dignified Methodist minister. For the last two days two nurses have had to make a savage attack on me & my bed to get "that Canadian" out before 7 am.. But today I routed the enemy who had brought up a bowl of water to sprinkle on me, by upsetting it in their hands with a crutch I had secreted under my bedclothes in case of a raid at dawn. The man in the next bed & I won a complete victory this time - they said it was "just like those Canadians".

Yesterday I was at my sister Ellen's house. Her husband is away in France & she is very anxious about him naturally. England seems full of anxious homes just now & I pray God the affair may soon be over. My father too is very unwell. He is very patriotic & thinks it his duty to work on war-work, so he is at an aeroplant factory. Nothing I can do will persuade him to leave it alone, & the day before yesterday he had to be brought home sick. I think it is only due to weakness, & now he will rest at home I hope. He is seventy years of age next birthday, & he ought to rest and enjoy his old age. But I am afraid he will be off again as soon as he gets a little better. I give him the wish commonly written to wounded soldiers: "I hope you will get better, but not yet."

Today is the last day of the Canadian sisters at this hospital; they go to London to "report" & then will be sent to France, Egypt or some Canadian hospital in England. There are about sixty eight at this hospital, & they all decided that they will be happier & more contented in Canadian places. You see they are better paid, & hold the rank of Lieutenants, & little differences of opinion & habit arise between them & their English sisters.

But I am sorry they are going, for they made this hospital very much pleasanter than it would have been. They do their work just as well as the English nurses, and have in addition a keener sense of humor, & less of the irritating edge of dignity. I begin to think that the gift of humor is as priceless as the gift of physical courage, or of humility. France with its bitter hardship, its cruel sufferings, - its dread moments of fearful peril, must leave its mark on us all. Some values dwindle into nothing, while other, insignificant before, become of tremendous value. I hope I shall never forget, Lulu dear, & if I get into trouble trying to teach some of the lessons I have learned, will you help me?

I am glad you liked that Piano scalf. I was just a wee bit disappointed in it myself. The harmony of colour I liked much, as well as work, though of course I am not a judge. But it lacked the caring of another small piece done by the same lady. The pcs I sent of course, I like very much indeed. They are rare here, & can only be got with difficulty. I would like to send you a whole lot more of interesting places I have been seen, but I cannot get hold of them.

It cannot be long however before some move is made. My name is at present in the list of those to be sent to Kirkdale, near Liverpool, - I should think I would be sent there next week anyway. Let us hope I shall be home by Xmas anyway.

How is Ainley getting along now. It would be fine if he came through without a scratch. If this present offensive should be so successful as to force the Germans to abandon the Belgium coast I should not be surprised to see peace. I am afraid we shall all go mad when that day comes. Carman I hope is still in England, though I am afraid he will never be content to stay in England after coming so far.

Give my kindest regards to your mama & papa. Tell them not to worry about the boys, God has them in his keeping. It is curious the sense of peace the belief in fate - so common among soldiers - gives one. It may not be entirely logical, but thousands of us -if not all - have got strange comfort out of it.

We shall have many things to tell when we get together. I know practically nothing of the East & its cities, so I shall want you to tell me quite a lot.

With very best love

Yours

Tom

Original Scans

Original Scans