1918 Letter 11
Canadian Y.M.C.A.
Nov. 29, 191[8]
Darling Mother –
I am sending you letters from the Mother and Sister of a little chap who died of pneumonia in my ward at Etaples.
I have always tried to write to patients' Mothers when they died - often I couldn’t manage it but I am so glad now that I did when I could. When I think of the difference it made to us getting those letters from Don’s friends.
I cannot help thinking how strange it was about the poppy [seed] and that lovely little poem Don sent. It is the sweetest memory you could have had of him. Yes, Mother, Don was a wonderful boy – just the fact that he was "Don" to everyone speaks for itself. His life was made up of so many little thoughtful unselfish acts that we shall miss him terribly, you and I.
Everyone who has written to me mentions how I used to talk about him and how I shall miss him. I didn’t think I spoke of him much but I suppose I did, for I thought an awful lot of dear old Don, and I am missing him more every day. And I might have been so much more to him, but we must always feel that way, I suppose. I tried to write to Mrs. West today but couldn’t find words – what can one say – and yet I know how much I loved the letter I received, no matter how the sympathy was expressed.
You and she have been friends through so much - that is strange that your sorrows should have come at the same time. Thank heaven you have her, and the Plants – they are true friends.
There isn’t anything I could have done I’m afraid. I was in France when I saw the notice in "Canada" and then I wasn’t sure that it was Eric till Papa wrote, for I wasn’t sure of his initial. Waudsworth (3rd London Gen. Hosp) is said to be one of the best in London – our patients couldn’t speak too highly of their treatment there.
Well Mother I had a letter from Mr. Thomson to-day too. I don’t think he cared a bit about writing it. In fact it sounds like the uncomfortable performance of a painful duty. When I got to the part where he’d been over to see you I laughed. I’ll send it on to you so you can chuckle over it too. The Rev. pro German is not feeling very much at home with the war just now. He is alright I suppose but his sympathy hadn’t the right note. We know too much about his views on the war. But my heart softens toward that family considerably when I think of poor Archie. He would have given his soul to come and couldn’t. If you ever see him tell him that the talk I had with him was one of the pleasantest memories I have of my time at home last year.
I remember reading a speech of Henry VI (I think) – made in one of Shakespeare’s plays, after some big battle, and quoted by a returned M.P. at a Recruiting meeting, and I think it expresses what we feel toward those who wouldn’t take part in the war. The only part I can recall is just a few lines
"And gentlemen of England, now abed
Shall count themselves accursed they were not here
And hold their man hood cheap while [any] speaks
Who fought with us upon St. Cr[ ] day".
You mustn’t worry about me. I am too proud of the boy to feel overwhelmed with grief. As you said his life was such that we can never feel it was unfinished. To have come through this war alive will be to a great many like recovering from a terrible illness and the nearness of death only to take up life and face the whole thing over again. He didn’t need to, and perhaps we should be thankful
Do you know Mother, I am happy. You wrote you were and I understand you. Lots of people I know will think us crazy, but only the ones who haven’t gone through the same. The war has shown a lot of us our real selves, and I think we’ll all be better Christians for it.
Do you remember a book we had as children about "The boy Crusaders" – we thought it almost beyond belief that boys of 16 should go forth on a mission like that, and yet how many boys of 16 have I known in this war – poor children – and yet history will gave them the same halo in years to come.
Mrs. Torrance lives only to rejoin her boys now, and Mrs. Knight who says she is 65 and will be with her boy soon. Don’s death has given us a place among the most honoured people in the world to-day – the mourners of those who have given us Peace, and I doubt if he’d lived to be a hundred if he could have honoured us more.
But we mustn’t forget Eric the dear lad, for he told me once he was ashamed to be alive so many friends had been taken from his very side. He never knew fear and in his own way he is grand, for he could become so engrossed in his work as to forget there was a war on.
All the men who have known him have spoken so well of him, much older men, who spoke of him with pride as if he were a young brother.
I have sent him your letter, and will write him often. He is extraordinarily clever and we must help him to find himself now that he is starting again.
Jean’s letter I thought was the nicest of all you sent me. I do hope they can be married soon, for the more I think of it, the more I favour it. No one will ever think of Eric as a child again, and she has shown herself a wonderful girl to have stuck to him as she has.
I wonder when we’ll get home again. Surely it can’t be long now.
Nothing could have happened that would have been worse to me than being sent away down here at this time. My only hope is that we’ll be out of here in a few weeks, so don’t write here – use the old address c/o Matron in chief Macdonald 133 Oxford St. London. 2.1 – for I’m sure I’ll not be here when your answer comes to this.
I have taken $400 worth of Victory Loan – would have put in all I had in the Bank at home only I wasn’t sure how much I had – ask Mr. Baillie if it’s alright – I took $300 from that account. It still stays in the Bank, only I draw 5 ½ % instead of Bank rate – I figured out I had about $500 but ask him and if by an awful chance I haven’t that much cable me and I can send it from here.
The $100 I drew from my account over here was what we were given for outfit allowance last month, and I didn’t need it.
Do you know I’ve never written Della – I wrote Mrs. Plant and then heard about Don, and after that was so busy, that I really didn’t have time. I’ll try to write to-night but tell her anyway.
I pray to God that you will escape the influenza – but it’s all over the world, and there’s so getting away from it apparently.
I have just reread your letter – yes, Mother – Don was greatly loved. Do you remember how Auntie Vic used to go in to the drugstore just to talk to him. His was one of the sweetest natures, and I only wish I could have taken his place, for he was so much that I can never be.
What a grand meeting it will be for them all beyond. Thank God, Mother, you brought us up to believe in a hereafter – what desolation if one didn’t.
By this time you will know where Eric is – I suppose he should have cabled but the poor boy was hard up and probably thought you’d understand. He lost all his kit, you know and there was a delay in his pay going in and he was pretty low in funds.
I shall never be thankful enough for the time we all spent together. We seemed to be so close to one another, and as I tell you Don blossomed out as I have never known him to do. We had such happy moments, and my only regret is that you and Papa couldn’t be there too.
Don’t you love the snaps of him that I had enlarged. It is so like him, just as he stood there with Eric and me.
God has been very good to us in giving us such memories of him.
I must stop now. God be with you, dearest Mother – every day I realize more fully what we owe to you – you always helped us, and I know if Don had a last thought it would be of you and Papa.
Good-night now, dear ones.
Yours always,
Helen.