There was a little Catholic chapel-tent here, similar to the one we had had at Ecurie Wood. In the afternoon I went up to this and found Father O’Sullivan of the First Divisional Engineers in charge. I slept in the chapel-tent that night. Just before I retired, a number of lads came in to see me. The last one was a runner from the Fourteenth. He had had a terrible time carrying messages to different companies of the battalion in the battle the previous day. He showed me his tunic, from which a bullet had torn a strip across the chest. He had only begun to speak of his narrow escape when he burst out crying and immediately left the tent. Father O’Sullivan was sleeping down in the lines of the engineers. The shelling was terrible; beyond description. Not far away whole train-loads of munitions were being hit by German shells and car after car was exploding with a deafening noise. A great many horses were being hit, for there were horse lines of the artillery nearby. Shell after shell was dropping around my tent; but I felt too tired to move. I remember my conscience bothering me a little as to whether I were justified in remaining in the tent when at any minute I might be blown up. After a little puzzling, I decided I was, and for this reason—perhaps, in looking for a place of safety, I might be struck by one of the shells. And at any minute Fritz might stop.
I said Mass the following morning, and no words can express the consolation it gave me. I had not said Mass for five days—not since the previous Sunday. We remained another night, but the shelling was so intense that it was no fit place for troops to rest in: so on Saturday afternoon we marched farther back. Many men whom we thought had been taken prisoners found their way back to the battalion; they had become separated from their companies and had lain hidden in shell-holes till they could come back in safety. As we now numbered nearly three hundred, we did not present an unfavorable appearance as we marched along. The band at the head of the column played “The Great Little Army” and “Sons of the Brave” and many other old favorites; already the lads were becoming more cheerful.
Chapter XCIV
Frequent Moves
It was afternoon when we came into our area, and it was Saturday. The doctor and I had been given a hut almost filled with German high explosives—barrels of cordite, rolls of gun-cotton and boxes of amenol were on all sides. There was just room for us to spread two bed-rolls on the floor. Woe unto any one who smoked in this powder magazine! The cook-house was almost touching us, and sparks flew from the short stove-pipe that pierced the low roof. If a spark or two should happen to fall on our little room! The doctor became uneasy, and hearing that a field ambulance was quartered a few hundred feet away he left and found shelter with his brethren.
During the afternoon we received a draft of three hundred fresh men to reinforce our shattered ranks. I watched them as they stood to attention and were inspected by the colonel. Tomorrow I would have them at Mass, for it would be Sunday.
Sunday morning the wind was blowing a rather stiff breeze, and as I was to say Mass out of doors, I knew it would be impossible to keep my candles lighted unless I should build a windshield—or break-wind. Accordingly, at nine o’clock I called the Englishman who had been appointed to look after my wants, and we went up to the field and tried to build the windshield.
For nearly an hour we labored unsuccessfully with the material we had at hand. I was quite discouraged when I heard the pipes of the Thirteenth Battalion coming up the road—and I had no place arranged to say Mass! I looked around, not knowing what to do next, and there, not more than a hundred yards away stood the remnants of the corner walls of a house—exactly what I had been trying to build. The two walls were just about five feet high and there was a trough about two feet high and three feet long built into the corner. Quickly the Englishman and I filled this with brick and in five minutes my altar was fitted up and ready for Mass.
I had been told by the staff captain of the brigade to hurry, as the place where I was to say Mass was under German observation. I said Mass very quickly, dispensed with the sermon, and gave a general absolution to the men as they knelt on the green field among piles of shattered masonry.
That evening we moved back to support trenches and I was not sorry to leave my munition store-room. The doctor and I were given a dugout to ourselves. As it was very cold, we made a little trench heater out of an old bean-tin, cutting a number of holes in the sides of it and filling it with pieces of paraffine candles and torn shreds of burlap. When we set fire to this we had quite a brazier. Headquarters was some distance from our trench in a corrugated iron hut, and as Fritz was shelling a balloon headquarters not far away, we often had to run the gauntlet of shell-fire.
We remained here nearly a week and it was relatively quiet. On October 9th, when we went over to lunch, the colonel told us that the Canadians had taken Cambrai. The taking of Cambrai closed the battle of Arras-Cambrai, begun on August 26th, after we had come back from Amiens. From this date the Canadian Corps had advanced twenty-three miles, fighting for every yard of ground and overcoming tremendous obstacles. We had taken over eighteen thousand prisoners, three hundred and seventy guns and two thousand machine-guns.