Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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LONDON, 1916-1917 Very few cities look at their best at 2 o ' clock on a cold wet morning, especially when the observer is thoroughly tired, but London is an exception. We had docked in Liverpool early one Sunday morning, had spent the entire day answering questions put to us by suspicious government officials, and after landing, had s.pent several hours hauling our luggage about, and hunting for the right station to go to. There were a few very elderly porters who certainly did not look physically capable of moving trunks about, so we soon learnt the curse of possessions. We had travelled for six hours in a train with all blinds drawn to keep light from showing, for fear of transgressing a Defence of the Realm Act. But on arriving in London just before dawn we forgot our tiredness in the mystery of the place. The streets were so still and dark, there were hardly any lamps and, what was worse, very few taxis. It was the queerest sensation to drive through those dark streets, not knowing in the least where one was going, and having to trust the driver to land one at the right address, and then in the morning, to begin to learn the great city. And how strange it was scarcely a man of military age on the streets who was not in uniform, some in Khaki, some in Navy Blue, others in Hospital Blues. The blind, the halt the maimed; and all cheerful. Girls took, the place of men in countless offices, and banks, as ticket collecters, as bus hoppers , as conductors on tubes and trains, as window cleaners, as porters at stations, one saw them everywhere. Little boys were Scouts, little girls were Girl Guides, and older men were special constables. When leave was on, Picadilly and Regent Street were crowded with happy faces, but one could always distinguish those who had come from France. Their eyes had seen, and having seen could not wholly forget. The theatres and restaurants were full of soldiers and sailors. How they did enjoy themselves for that all too short respite. The raids began in June of 1917, and the first was a daylight raid. A captured Sea Plane got through the defences, and it gave one a sinking sensation to see the shrapnel bursting over St. Paul ' s Cathedral. Then they began to come over on moon- light nights, and for the week the moon was full, the tubes were full, mostly with foreigners. They brought their cats their dogs, their old people, their children and all their household goods, and camped in the Tubes all night. Under such circumstances, imagine the difficulties of getting home after a hard day ' s work. When the Take Cover warning sounded, usually at night, everyone was pulled out of bed and sent scurrying cellar-wards. The varieties of costume were amazing, great, tall grim-faced women in lacy boudoir caps, some in fur coats, all with rugs and shawls and sleepy faces. All yawning and very cross at being 15

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I am so glad that the school is still leading at basket ball, what exciting matches we had in those old, early days! Will all the girls please remember that it is a very real pleas- ure to me tx hear of, and especially from, them? With my love and renewed best wisjhes, I am, dear girls of Trafalgar, Your affectionate friend, CHARLOTTE G. GARSIDE. THE SONG OF A LITTLE RIVER Dedicated to the City Fathers Let poets sing of June the month of roses Or make verse about the joys of winter ' s snow, There ' s a time that ' s better yet. Through it ' s windy and it ' s wet. It ' s the month of March the happiest time I know. For it ' s then that I ' m a river A purling, prattling river Swirling along between my banks of snow, And many a fairy mannikin With boat made of an orange skin, Goes sailing down my current to the afterfall below. I am lost in the mighty St. Lawrence in the summer. In the winter I ' m the ice and snow you tread beneath your feet But there ' s just one time for me When I ' m happy and I ' m free, It ' s the month of March, when spring and winter meet. For it ' s then that I ' m a river, A merry, murmuring river. The giggling, gurgling river running down Simpson Street! E. S. J.— March 1918 14

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wakened in the middle of the night. It was positively blood- curdling to hear the bombs drop with a sound of tearing glass, and to see the shrapnel bursting in the sky, and one began to be alarmed when a bomb burst around the corner. At last, Oh blessed sound, the ' ' All Clear signal was given and we climbed gratefully into bed again. The rationing was strange, but one soon got used to margarine, and one slice of bread at each meal, a small slice too, but we made up on other things; meat once a day, and only one slice then; no butter or sugar of course, and for seven months not a potato could be found except perhaps in a museum as an extinct vegetable. These were very minor discomforts for one would put up a great deal more for the sake of those precious Leaves and one and all we say God bless the person who invented them. Life in London those days was interesting but strenuous. Everyone was doing something, nursing, canteen work, motor driving, office work in a government office, or replacing a man who had listed . The Canadian Red Cross offices were the gen- eral meeting ground for all Canadians and there one was fairly sure of meeting all one ' s friends. Each department in the office had different work to do, but they all worked together to maka our wounded men happy and to give their relatives all possible comfort. When a man is wounded the news comes to the Red Cross either through the Record Office, or the hospital in which he is. An index card is made out with his name and full address as well as the address of his next of kin . This card has on it all the information obtainable about him, each change of hospital is entered, and also his condition. There are visitors appointed to each hospital and these visitors send in reports upon the men. This report is entered on his card and is also sent to his relatives to tell them how he is progressing. The visitors see that each man has his small kit and they provide cigarettes and arrange to have newspapers sent. These requests come in with the reports and are dealt with by their respective departments. All this means a great deal of work but we were only too glad to be able to do it and many were the appreciative letters from relatives that came in by every Canadian mail. Each days work had to be finished on its appointed day, none could be left over, so it was sometimes necessary to work until midnight. Fortiinately the work soon became mechanical. One had not time to stop and think what it really meant when those sheets of casualties came in, which was truly merciful, for it would have driven us mad. After the battle of Vimy Ridge in 1917, the casualties were very heavy and for some weeks, the work could not be finished until well on into the evening but the walk home across the park, when the sun had gone down, and the search lights were chasing each other across the sky, quite made one forget the tiredness of the long day. 16