f
in my side-car for Hornoy, a little village not far from Amiens. We
left Le Cauroy in the afternoon, and soon the sun came out making the
freshly washed country more beautiful than ever. It was very interesting
finding our way by the map, and as we neared our destination I met
many friends in the other divisions who were stationed in the villages
through which we passed. By the time we reached Hornoy, the sun had
set. My billet was to be with the Cure. I went over to the neat white
Presbytere which was approached by a large gate leading into the
garden. The old man came to meet me at the door of his house, and put
me through a lot of questions in what I thought was a needlessly gruff
manner. I found out afterwards that he was very kind, and that his
gruffness was only assumed. He gave me a room upstairs comfortably
furnished, and invited me to come into his office whenever I pleased.
The church, which could be entered from the garden, was in good order,
and parts of it were very old. The day after we arrived at Hornoy was
Sunday, August 4th. It was the fourth anniversary of our declaration
of war, and I had hoped to hold a big service for the men. Unfortunately,
we were all scattered and, as our hymn books did not turn up, having
been confiscated as a reprisal by some of the crown and anchor men, my
plans were frustrated. In the afternoon I went by side-car to Amiens
and found the city looking very different from its appearance on my
last visit. The streets were absolutely deserted. Many of the houses
had been damaged by shells. The Cathedral roof itself had been (p. 272)
pierced in some places and the noble interior looked very dreary, the
floor of the nave being covered with bits of broken stone and glass.
It was sad to think that it might share the fate of Rheims. Some
Canadians were wandering about the streets rather disconsolately. The
empty city gave one a terrible sense of loneliness. On the following
evening about midnight the 16th Battalion and the 3rd Battalion of
Engineers passed through Hornoy in trains, going forward.

Our own orders to move came two days later, on August 7th, and I left
for St. Feuchien. I went off in my side-car to the quaint old village.
It is situated on the top of a low hill, and consists of a few streets
and some large buildings standing in their own grounds. One of these
was the country home of the Archbishop of Amiens, and this was to be
our billet. I entered the grounds by a