nirs from the roads.
From South Africa, from home, and from Canada, come the drivers and
mechanics of the motor transport. The Canadians, stout fellows from
Toronto, Winnipeg, and the Far West, enlisted in the British A.S.C. in
Canada, and arrived in England only to be sent to East Africa. It seems
at first sight a strange country to which to send these men from the
north, but in fact it was a very happy choice. For they got away from
the cold dampness of England and Flanders into the summer seas of the
South Atlantic, where the flying fish and rainbow nautilus filled them
with surprise. Cape Town and Durban must have been for these Canadian
lads a new world only previously envisaged by them, in the big all-red
map that hangs on the walls of Canadian schools, A little difficult at
first, apt to chafe at the restrictions that, though perhaps not
necessary for themselves in particular, were yet essential in preserving
discipline in the whole mixed unit, rather inclined to resent certain
phases of soldier life. But soon they settled down to do their job, to
take trouble over their work rather than make trouble by grousing over
it. Well they proved their worth by the number that now fill the
non-commissioned ranks, and may be judged by the commendation of their
commanding officers. I used to think that they came to see me in
particular, at the long sick parades I held in Morogoro and Handeni,
because I too lived, like some of them, in British Columbia. I cannot
flatter my soul by thinking that they came for the special quality of
the quinine or medical advice I dished out to them. It may have been
that they were far from home, and I seemed a friend in a very strange
land.
All I know is, that I felt a great compliment was paid to me that they
should be grateful for the often hurried and small attentions that I
could give them. They would sometimes bring me Canadian papers that took
me back two and a half years, to the time when I came to England on a
six weeks' holiday from my work, a holiday that has now spun out to
three and a half years, and shows every sign of going further still.
Very well these men stood the climate, in spite of their fair colouring,
in a country that penalises the blonde races more than the brown, that
makes us pay for our want of protective pigment. One stout fellow I well
remember, who had acute appendicitis at Morogoro, was the driver, or
engineer as they are called, of a Grand Trunk Pacific tra
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