nny. It was a lovely
spring evening when we arrived, and the men were able to sit down on
the green grass and have their supper before going into the trenches
by St. Julien. I walked back down that memorable road which two years
later I travelled for the last time on my return from Paschendaele.
The great sunset lit the sky with beautiful colours. The rows of trees
along that fateful way were ready to burst into new life. The air was
fresh and invigorating. To the south, lay the hill which is known to
the world as Hill 60, afterwards the scene of such bitter fighting.
Before me in the distance, soft and mellow in the evening light, rose
the towers and spires of Ypres--Ypres! the very name sends a strange
thrill through the heart. For all time, the word will stand as a
symbol for brutal assaults and ruthless destruction on the one hand
and heroic resolve and dogged resistance on the other. On any grim
monument raised to the Demon of War, the sole word "YPRES" would be a
sufficient and fitting inscription.
CHAPTER VI. (p. 055)
THE SECOND BATTLE OF YPRES.
_April 22nd, 1915._
Behind my house at Ypres there was an old-fashioned garden which was
attended to very carefully by my landlady. A summerhouse gave a fine
view of the waters of the Yser Canal, which was there quite wide. It
was nice to see again a good-sized body of water, for the little
streams often dignified by the name of rivers did not satisfy the
Canadian ideas as to what rivers should be. A battalion was quartered
in a large brick building several stories high on the east side of the
canal. There was consequently much stir of life at that point, and
from my summerhouse on the wall I could talk to the men passing by. My
billet was filled with a lot of heavy furniture which was prized very
highly by its owners. Madame told me that she had buried twelve
valuable clocks in the garden in case of a German advance. She also
told me that her grandfather had seen from the windows the British
going to the battle of Waterloo. She had both a piano and a harmonium,
and took great pleasure in playing some of the hymns in our Canadian
hymn book. I was so comfortable that I hoped our residence at Ypres
might be of long duration. At night, however, desultory shells fell
into the city. We could hear them ripping along with a sound like a
trolley on a track, and then there would be a fearful crash. One night
w
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