St. Martins Plain, Sept 17, 1915 Dear Folks; - Well, this Friday and we are still in England, on St. Martins Plain, about three miles from Folkstone. Well, the going away was some business. We cleaned up camp, burnt all stuff and left the camp clean. Then, throwing a seventy-five pound pack to our manly shoulders, we started for Folkstone, a distance of at least ten miles. Well say, it was some load but not impossible. We had a ten minutes out every half hour but it was not enough as at least a hundred fell out. May state, a number of them were habitual beer imbibers. Well, got to Folkstone about eight, with not a stitch of dry clothes, sweat dripping off the end of your nose and smarting eyes, from the effects of salty sweat- a beautiful picture, what. But everyone seemed in good humour. The people were out with pitchers and all kinds of water, also cigarettes, fruit at certain places. We lay around on the street for two or three hours and then troops started to pass us going back and, about eleven, we a about turned and started back, passing the twenty-ninth and thirty-first. They followed later. No troops were taken over last night; don't know why, but we were away again, with stiff shoulders. Well, it was dark and we blundered on. And, as we went, fellows kept dropping out and putting down their blankets-spending the night where they stopped. Well, this went on and we passed Shorncliff and went through Clinton, not in any formation but just straggled out, like a drove of sheep and, after around-about trip. About half the arrived at the plains, dropped their blankets and slept. I tucked in with Gamble, the blankets over us and a waterproof sheet under us, and our wet clothes off, they being replaced with a sweater. We were fine and warm, and got up this morning pretty fresh. Had something to eat - lucky we are carrying forty-eight hour rations. Fellows have been blundering in since five this morning. We got in about a quarter to two; it is now 1 P.M. and a few late ones still come but they are mostly all here now. Believe me, Napoleon's retreat from Moscow was in good order compared to this. The fellows, even if they could have gone on, simply decided that where they were was good enough and, as we did not know where they were going, it looked like a good move. Kits were mixed up; everything is some stale, sore feet, etc. A sergeant, with sixteen years' service, said he never carried such a pack and, if he did, not so far. May say, the 27th sent their packs down on a transport, much lighter. The latest report on the weight of kits: Remember, they are not all the same weight, can carry as much as you like, but, one fellow says he weighed his kit and it was ninety-three lbs, without rifle. I am not looking forward to the return trip to Folkstone but it can be done. I can say that the St. Norbert thirty-mile Winnipeg trip would not be even strenuous now, with the kit we then wore. But, nevertheless, this was some trip and I am glad I finished. Not that it was any particular credit as a fellow was just as wise to lay out. But Lavender, Scott, Cameron, Gamble and I said, after going so far, we would finish. If they went right back to Otterpool, may say they went at least a mile and a half around, for a shortcut to get here The object of this letter is not sympathy but just news and to say we were some mob. No one trying to straighten them out but just retreat, pure and simple, and not an organized one. But, the fellows refused to be run over the country, not knowing where they were going and one field looked as good as another to them. Say, this letter is not a knock, understand or a complaint, as we have many jokes on the trip and, in a day or two, it will only be a memory to look back and laugh about. These kinds of things don't weigh on us all around. They are a cheerful crowd. Just had news to the effect that we make another attempt to cross tonight, hope it succeeds. Say, don't comment too much on this letter or put in any sympathy, as your letters may be looked at by censor. I don't know; don't think so. Well, must fix up my kit so, once again, saying goodbye for England and hoping this letter gives you some amusement, as it does me. Gos and I remain A1 shape. So one thing, they can't kill me with a pack. Now some[ two words indecipherable]. With Love, Perry