and the batteries have fought with a steadiness which is beyond all praise。
If I could say what our casualties in men； guns； and horses were；
you would see at a glance it has been a hot corner； but we have given
better than we got； for the German casualties from this front
have been largely from artillery； except for the French attack of yesterday
and the day before； when they advanced appreciably on our left。
The front； however； just here remains where it was；
and the artillery fire is very heavy I think as heavy here
as on any part of the line； with the exception of certain cross…roads
which are the particular object of fire。 The first four days
the anxiety was wearing； for we did not know at what minute
the German army corps would come for us。 We lie out in support
of the French troops entirely； and are working with them。
Since that time evidently great reinforcements have come in；
and now we have a most formidable force of artillery to turn on them。
Fortunately the weather has been good； the days are hot and summerlike。
Yesterday in the press of bad smells I got a whiff of a hedgerow in bloom。
The birds perch on the trees over our heads and twitter away
as if there was nothing to worry about。 Bonfire is still well。
I do hope he gets through all right。
Flanders； March 30th； 1915。
The Brigade is actually in twelve different places。 The ammunition column
and the horse and wagon lines are back； and my corporal visits them every day。
I attend the gun lines； any casualty is reported by telephone； and I go to it。
The wounded and sick stay where they are till dark； when the field ambulances
go over certain grounds and collect。 A good deal of suffering is entailed
by the delay till night； but it is useless for vehicles to go on the roads
within 1500 yards of the trenches。 They are willing enough to go。
Most of the trench injuries are of the head； and therefore there is
a high proportion of killed in the daily warfare as opposed to an attack。
Our Canadian plots fill up rapidly。
And here is one last note to his mother：
On the eve of the battle of Ypres I was indebted to you for a letter
which said 〃take good care of my son Jack； but I would not
have you unmindful that； sometimes； when we save we lose。〃
I have that last happy phrase to thank。 Often when I had to go out
over the areas that were being shelled； it came into my mind。
I would shoulder the box； and 〃go to it〃。
At this time the Canadian division was moving south to take its share
in the events that happened in the La Bassee sector。 Here is the record：
Tuesday； June 1st； 1915。
1…1/2 miles northeast of Festubert； near La Bassee。
Last night a 15 pr。 and a 4…inch howitzer fired at intervals of five minutes
from 8 till 4； most of them within 500 or 600 yards
a very tiresome procedure； much of it is on registered roads。
In the morning I walked out to Le Touret to the wagon lines； got Bonfire；
and rode to the headquarters at Vendin…lez…Bethune； a little village
a mile past Bethune。 Left the horse at the lines and walked back again。
An unfortunate shell in the 1st killed a sergeant and wounded two men；
thanks to the strong emplacements the rest of the crew escaped。
In the evening went around the batteries and said good…bye。 We stood by
while they laid away the sergeant who was killed。 Kind hands have made
two pathetic little wreaths of roses； the grave under an apple…tree；
and the moon rising over the horizon； a siege…lamp held for the book。
Of the last 41 days the guns have been in action 33。 Captain Lockhart；
late with Fort Garry Horse； arrived to relieve me。 I handed over；
came up to the horse lines； and slept in a covered wagon in a courtyard。
We were all sorry to part the four of us have been very intimate
and had agreed perfectly and friendships under these circumstances
are apt to be the real thing。 I am sorry to leave them in such a hot corner；
but cannot choose and must obey orders。 It is a great relief from strain；
I must admit； to be out； but I could wish that they all were。
This phase of the war lasted two months precisely； and to John McCrae
it must have seemed a lifetime since he went into this memorable action。
The events preceding the second battle of Ypres received scant mention
in his letters； but one remains； which brings into relief
one of the many moves of that tumultuous time。
April 1st； 1915。
We moved out in the late afternoon； getting on the road a little after dark。
Such a move is not unattended by danger； for to bring horses and limbers
down the roads in the shell zone in daylight renders them liable
to observation； aerial or otherwise。 More than that； the roads are now
beginning to be dusty； and at all times there is the noise which carries far。
The roads are nearly all registered in their battery books；
so if they suspect a move； it is the natural thing to loose off a few rounds。
However； our anxiety was not borne out； and we got out of the danger zone
by 8。30 a not too long march in the dark； and then for
the last of the march a glorious full moon。 The houses everywhere
are as dark as possible； and on the roads noises but no lights。
One goes on by the long rows of trees that are so numerous in this country；
on cobblestones and country roads； watching one's horses' ears wagging；
and seeing not much else。 Our maps are well studied before we start；
and this time we are not far out of familiar territory。
We got to our new billet about 10 quite a good farmhouse；
and almost at once one feels the relief of the strain of being
in the shell zone。 I cannot say I had noticed it when there；
but one is distinctly relieved when out of it。
Such； then； was the life in Flanders fields in which the verse was born。
This is no mere surmise。 There is a letter from Major…General
E。 W。 B。 Morrison； C。B。； C。M。G。； D。S。O。； who commanded the Brigade
at the time； which is quite explicit。 〃This poem；〃 General Morrison writes；
〃was literally born of fire and blood during the hottest phase
of the second battle of Ypres。 My headquarters were in a trench
on the top of the bank of the Ypres Canal； and John had his dressing station
in a hole dug in the foot of the bank。 During periods in the battle
men who were shot actually rolled down the bank into his dressing station。
Along from us a few hundred yards was the headquarters of a regiment；
and many times during the sixteen days of battle； he and I watched them
burying their dead whenever there was a lull。 Thus the crosses； row on row；
grew into a good…sized cemetery。 Just as he describes； we often heard
in the mornings the larks singing high in the air； between the crash
of the shell and the reports of the guns in the battery just beside us。
I have a letter from him in which he mentions having written the poem
to pass away the time between the arrival of batches of wounded；
and partly as an experiment with several varieties of poetic metre。 I have
a sketch of the scene； taken at the time； including his dressing station；
and during our operations at Passchendaele last November；
I found time to make a sketch of the scene of the crosses； row on row；
from which he derived his inspiration。〃
The last letter from the Front is dated June 1st； 1915。 Upon that day
he was posted to No。 3 General Hospital at Boulogne； and placed in charge
of medicine with the rank of Lieutenant…Colonel as of date 17th April； 1915。
Here he remained until the day of his death on January 28th； 1918。
III
The Brand of War
There are men who pass through such scenes unmoved。 If they have eyes；
they do not see； and ears； they do not hear。 But John McCrae
was profoundly moved； and bore in his body until the end
the signs of his experience。 Before taking up his new duties
he made a visit to the hospitals in Paris to see if there was any new thing
that might be learned。 A Nursing Sister in the American Ambulance
at Neuilly…sur…Seine met him in the wards。 Although she had known him
for fifteen years she did not recognize him； he appeared to her so old；
so worn； his face lined and ashen grey in colour； his expression dull；
his action slow and heavy。
To those who have never seen John McCrae since he left Canada
this change in his appearance will seem incredible。 He was of the Eckfords；
and the Eckford men were 〃bonnie men〃； men with rosy cheeks。 It was a year
before I met him again； and he had not yet recovered from the strain。
Although he was upwards of forty years of age when he left Canada
he had always retained an appearance of extreme youthfulness。
He frequented the company of men much younger than himself；
and their youth was imputed to him。 His frame was tall and well knit；
and he showed alertness in every move。 He would arise from the chair
with every muscle in action； and walk forth as if he were about to dance。
The first time I saw him he was doing an autopsy at
the Montreal General Hospital upon the body of a child
who had died under my care。 This must have been in the year 1900；
and the impression