As Gertrude says, Verdun
has slain all exultation. We would all feel more like rejoicing if the
victories were on the western front. 'When will the British strike?'
Gertrude sighed this morning. 'We have waited so long--so long.'
"Our greatest local event in recent weeks was the route march the county
battalion made through the county before it left for overseas. They
marched from Charlottetown to Lowbridge, then round the Harbour Head and
through the Upper Glen and so down to the St. Mary station. Everybody
turned out to see them, except old Aunt Fannie Clow, who is bedridden
and Mr. Pryor, who hadn't been seen out even in church since the night
of the Union Prayer Meeting the previous week.
"It was wonderful and heartbreaking to see that battalion marching past.
There were young men and middle-aged men in it. There was Laurie
McAllister from over-harbour who is only sixteen but swore he was
eighteen, so that he could enlist; and there was Angus Mackenzie, from
the Upper Glen who is fifty-five if he is a day and swore he was
forty-four. There were two South African veterans from Lowbridge, and
the three eighteen-year-old Baxter triplets from Harbour Head. Everybody
cheered as they went by, and they cheered Foster Booth, who is forty,
walking side by side with his son Charley who is twenty. Charley's
mother died when he was born, and when Charley enlisted Foster said he'd
never yet let Charley go anywhere he daren't go himself, and he didn't
mean to begin with the Flanders trenches.
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