#475465
Pte. C.D. Richardson
P.P.C.L.I. C.E.F.
France, May 9, ‘16

Dear Edna:

When I start to write from here it is always with a little hesitation for it is hard to keep from saying things I should not. Those things that would interest you most are generally the ones that I cannot write about. For instance I cannot describe our training camp in detail for the very latest appliances and methods of meeting the newest designs of the enemy are used there and are supposed to be secret.

One thing I can say, is that it is by far the most enormous and gigantic school of instruction that one could conceive. Today the Canadian troops went for a route march. Marching in fours it extended for miles. The Imperial troops also have a big camp here too and use the same training camp as we do. When all troops are on the huge parade ground there is one solid mass of men that would make one in civilian life open his eyes.

Another lot of our company arrived from England yesterday as there are now 50 of us waiting to go up the line.

I had a letter from Jim Brown, - everybody calls him "Farmer" Brown to distinguish him from various other Browns - and he was telling us how things are in the trenches just now. He received my last letter at 3:30 in the morning while just 60 yards from the German trenches, and he was replying then. He seems quite an old soldier now, but does not relish the horror of warfare as he has seen it so far. There were up to that time April 24, 5 of our company killed and quite a number wounded from bombs and shells, and one was shot through the neck by a sniper. Those of us who are here are anxious to see what it is like ourselves. Of course we will soon be more anxious to get back again.

I had a very nice letter from Stevie's mother a few days ago. I have never seen her but judging from her letter I think she must be very nice.

Brown said he met Bill Harkness one day coming out the trenches as he was going in - quite an unexpected meeting. Needless to say they were pleased to see each other. Another M.A.C. boy, Jenkins, is in the same platoon as Brown.

It seems a long time since I have heard from you. It is a long time too. I think this is my fourth or fifth attempt since I had a letter from you. Perhaps you are busy driving that four horse team on the drill or worrying about exam. results. I understand the government allowed the soldiers in training in the West to go back to the farms for a month during seeding, so you probably have had your brother, Merril, home again. No doubt he would enjoy it. I know I would certainly like to be back to the farm this spring. However I never regret for a moment that I left it, though army life is not naturally my sphere. From the Canadian papers, I see that recruiting is being pushed to the limit and though it seems hard, I am afraid it is necessary. The more I see and hear of conditions out here, I am forced to realize that an almost superhuman effort has got to be made if we are going to finish the job with any degree of speed and finality. It grates on the nerves and tempers of the old soldiers who have been through the whole of the war to hear of graft charges and political disagreements when the Empire needs unity and unselfishness now as never before and I do not blame them. One can see written on their faces, something of what they have suffered, and we young and inexperienced recruits honor them for what they have prepared for us.

I know where we are going but I cannot tell you so if you watch the papers you will probably see where the Princess Pat's are. Yesterday was the anniversary of the great battle of Ypres. I have just come from our tent where ten of the originals of the regiment who were through it, were talking of that day.

We have had a good deal of rain the last few days, which makes it rather uncomfortable in tents where there are 13 sleeping. So much room is taken up with equipment, greatcoats and rifles that it would tax the ingenuity of a student in H.E. to properly arrange everything and everybody. When we do finally get our blankets laid down we usually find difficulty in getting 13 pairs of feet around the centre pole without overlapping - in fact it is impossible. But a person gets used to sleeping in almost any position after 6 months in the army.

Did I understand you to say that your brother who has enlisted was your only brother? I don't know where I got that impression but somehow I did. I can therefore realize how you miss him. I think you said you had several sisters didn't you? At least I recollect you telling me about driving old "Mag" to S.S. and having the "kiddies" along with you.

We had cards, from Bob Milne, Prof. Sproule and Prof. Smith lately letting us know that though far away we are not entirely forgotten.

From another source we heard that matrimonial bells were to ring at the M.A.C. before long. Mr. Cunningham and Miss McKee made up one guilty party, which did not surprise me much, but something of a similar nature concerning Mr. Wood and Miss Green did open my eyes. Of course only rumors reach our ears away over here.

I sent you a copy of a little magazine or publication that the camp turns out periodically under the direction of the Y.M.C.A. The literary efforts are not always very brilliant, in fact, the verse part of it would not often come in the poetry class but it echoes pretty well the sentiments of those who spend a week or two here. From it you can gather pretty well where we are.

It seems a funny thing that since coming to France I have not had a letter from home or from any of my sisters who usually write pretty regularly but I have had several from England and from Eastern Canada. The ways of the mail are certainly hard to understand.

It is pretty nearly time for bully beef and biscuits again so I must hurry to close. Let me give you the menu for the day. Breakfast - tea, bread, ham and marmalade. Dinner - tea, bully beef, cheese and bread. Supper - mulligan and biscuits. Will you come and have lunch with me tomorrow? We do not use any plates, only our mess tins, the ones we always carry with us. I use a combination knife, fork and spoon which I always carry on my belt.

I wrote the above in the Y.M.C.A. but since then I have returned to the tent. I am now sitting on my blankets, listening to Skinny Hawthorne playing the mouth organ while I am writing. Steve is busy tearing off his whiskers. He has just offered to shave me too so I must stop again while he does the job.

Now it is over and I shall escape the scrutiny of the orderly sergeant tomorrow. They are not at all particular about that now though. It is very different from England in that respect. I have certainly enjoyed it here much better than during the last month or so at Sandling.

I am sending this in a green envelope trusting to your sanction of it. If you would prefer me to use an ordinary envelope upon which I do not have to sign my name, I shall do so willingly. Let me know, will you?

I wish you could see the beauties of France - I mean landscape beauties - perhaps you may see it some day. We pass many wonderfully arranged gardens and estates.

Write soon

Sincerely yours,

Dick