yet, and they
are--_tres charmante_.

About six o'clock that evening we got the customary--the eternal--bully
beef and biscuits. At seven we were ordered to advance to the front line
trenches. Our captain gathered us around him. He wanted to talk to us
before we went "in" for the first time. He was, possibly, a little
uncertain of our attitude. He knew we were fighters all right, but our
discipline was an unknown quantity. Captain Straight, I understand, was
American-born, from Detroit, Michigan. We liked him. Later we almost
worshiped him. We took all he said to heart. We listened intently; not a
word did we miss. I can repeat from memory that pre-trench speech of his.

"Boys," the captain's voice was solemnity itself. "Boys, to-night we are
going into the front line trenches. We are going in with soldiers of the
regular Imperial Army. We are going in with seasoned troops. We are going
in alongside men who have fought out here for weeks. We've got to be very
careful, boys."

Our captain was obviously excited. We strained closer to him.

"You don't know a darn thing about war, lads ... I know you don't."

We fell back a pace somewhat abashed. We had been under fire that very
afternoon; but the captain (fortunately) did not know it.

"You don't know the first thing about this war. You've not had
opportunities of asking about it from wounded men. Now, boys, I know
exactly what you are going to do to-night when you get in those trenches.
You're going to ask questions of those English chaps. YOU ARE NOT." He
emphasized every one of those three words with a blow of one fist on the
other.

"You are not. Why, men, you know what the authorities think of our
discipline. How are we to know that this is not a device to try our
mettle. How are we to know that those boys already in are not there to
watch us, to report our behavior ... and, by heaven, men, if we don't make
a good showing perhaps they will report unfavorably on us; perhaps we will
be shipped out of here, shipped back to Canada, and become the laughing
stock of the world."

Captain Straight strode up and down. "It won't do, my lads. You must not
ask questions. Why, men, let those English fellows ask _you_ the questions.
Don't you speak at all ... just you be brave. I know you _are_ brave ...
stick out your chests." The captain gave us an illustration. We all drew
ourselves up; we almost burst the buttons from our tunics in our endeavor
to expand ... with brav