September 11, 1915.
I expect to leave here in two weeks to go to an Ambulance at the front. It is somewhere in the north in Belgium. I think Dr. R—— is sorry to have me leave, but it will be a much larger field and the kind of a place where there will be much to do. They have all been so nice to me here about helping me get my papers ready to send to the Minister of War, so I do not think there will be any difficulty of my getting through. I go to Paris first, then to Dunkirk, where Mrs. T—— will meet me, after that my destination is uncertain. Do not worry if you do not hear from me regularly, for it may be difficult to get mail through. I will write as usual.
I cannot tell you how glad I am to be able to go to the front, for it means a chance to do good work and I shall be so glad to be in the north when B—— comes over and nearer the Canadian boys. Even if I cannot see them I shall not feel so far away.
One of my men to-day got word that his baby, seven months old, had just died and the little girl of two is very ill. He expected to go next week and has been counting the days till he could see them. He has never seen the baby as it was born after the war began—another one of the sad things of this awful war.
Good-night; I am so glad of the chance of active service.