Volume 25 www.legionnl.com 39 Newfoundland Labrador Command continued ... continued ... and clay I could from it and called to a buddy who bandaged it for me as best he could. That done, I struggled to my feet whereupon my friend wondered where I was going. “I am going to try and get out", I replied. “You will”, he said “be riddled with bullets". Where from I allowed, “It’s just as well to die making an attempt at escape as to die here". I was not sure of the way out, but somehow I made it direct to Company Headquarters, where an Officer helped me down to a large dug-out and summoned another stretcher bearer by the name of Jack Lewis, who bandaged my thigh. He left and after about an hour he came back and asked if I could walk. I said that I would try. But I could only make a feeble effort, as my right leg felt like lead and useless. Jack called a second fellow and between them they got me up to the surface and onto a stretcher. The German counter-attack had meanwhile been halted, but there were still plenty of bullets flying around. The stretcher-bearers made it to the first dressing station where the Doctor made an examination. He entered some particulars on a card and fastened it to my breast pocket. From there I was moved further rearward and placed in a corrugated hut with some thirty or more other wounded. Next day I was moved to one of the forward hospitals near Ypres, where just after dark I was placed on the operating table. A Scottish doctor, with hair quite grey, came and examined my wounds. Looking at my hand he said, "Laddie, I don't know how much of that hand I can save for you", to which I replied, "alright doctor, I don't mind if I do lose it so long as I haven't got to go back up the line". Whereupon he allayed my fears, "don't worry about it, you are finished up the line". As he walked away he said to his assistant, “my, and he is so young!" Next I knew someone was adjusting a cap over my mouth and nose, and that was all I knew until about sunrise next day, when I heard some fellow remark, "what's wrong with that bloke there?" The fellow was told that I had been operated on during the night and was just coming to. I don't know what I was saying or doing. My first awareness was to wonder if my right hand was gone, so I put my left hand over and followed my right arm down from my shoulder and found that I was minus only two fingers! A little while later a young doctor made rounds to ascertain the condition of the wounded. Having been attracted by a pool of blood beneath my stretcher, he stopped and replaced the soakened bandages. This caused considerable pain which was relieved somewhat by an injection in my left arm. While fighting to control the pain, I fell asleep, and awoke some hours later feeling much better and to find that the bleeding had stopped. After a day or two I was moved down to Boulogne, where I had the packing removed from my thigh under anaesthetic. From Boulogne I was moved to Calais, placed on a boat and taken across the English Channel to Dover. A Red Cross train loaded with scores of other wounded took me down to London. During the trip to London, a nurse came in our car and asked if someone could play a gramophone. The chap opposite me replied that He could, whereupon the nurse brought in such an instrument and some records. Soon we were listening to a fine selection of music. When the gramophone eventually stopped, the chap in the berth under mine spoke up saying. "that's good buddy, I can't see but I can hear” - that fellow having lost both his eyes. In London I was placed in the Bethnal Green Military Hospital where the nurses were really good to us. One showed a special interest in me. She wrote letters to the folks at home, and brought me cigarettes etc. As soon as I could walk, she took me out to see old London. After some three weeks, I was moved to the Livingstone Cottage Hospital. It was at that Institute that I found myself as the Armistice was signed on November 11, 1918. At eleven a.m. the bells began to ring all over Great Britain and Westminsters 'Big Ben' struck forth for the first time in more than four years. I received a late pass and went out to the centre of London called the Strand. All along the route, there was rejoicing and dancing. Going down Victoria Street, the bus had to be stopped because of the pressing crowds. I had to keep my crippled hand across the top of my head so that it would not get hurt. At last the dark night of World War I was ended, and now everywhere light shone and people all over the world were rejoicing greatly. On November 16 I received my discharge from the hospital with a fourteen-day leave and a free pass to go to visit my friends in Dundee, Scotland. I arrived in Dundee around noon on November 17. After a few days I was called to Headquarters and asked if I would like to go home with the next draft, whereupon I told them that I would like to spend Christmas in London. The answer was "we shall see”. A little while later I was informed that I would be sailing for Newfoundland on December 12. So I obtained a weekend pass and spent that last week-end at the Peel House in London. In due time we were taken to Salesbury Dock and put on board the S.S. Corsican.
RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy MTM0NTk1OA==