N.C.O.’s at Blandain, 1919. (Canadian Official Copyright)
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Major Younger, the Brigade Major, rushed up to the Adjutant and asked for the C. O. (Major Pratt). “I’m sure I don’t know where he is,” said the Adjutant. “Oh, well,” said the B. M., “you’ll do. The Prince of Wales is just outside, and wants to go round and see the companies, so hurry up and get some clothes on and come and be presented.” (Scene of great excitement, during which hats, coats, and belts were nowhere to be found, and finally the young Prince, highly amused, is conducted round by the hatless and much embarrassed adjutant.)
Later, Major Pratt was found, and introduced to our distinguished visitor, but not catching his name, stepped forward, and seizing his hand, said, “Pleased to meet you, I’m sure.” But the Prince of Wales is a prince of good fellows, and despite the seeming want of courtesy shown him, pronounced himself highly pleased with his visit.
In the afternoon, all the officers of the battalion, together with a composite company of one hundred other ranks, attended the funeral of Major-General Lipsett, who was killed by a sniper whilst reconnoitring the forward positions. During his command of the 3rd Canadian Division (he had only recently been transferred to the Imperial Forces) his keen interest in the welfare of all ranks under his command had made him one of the most popular officers in the Canadian Corps.
On the 17th of the month, the 9th Brigade was inspected by the Corps Commander in a large and muddy field just north of Quéant. The Corps Commander, as most of the Corps know, was by no means a small man, and amongst the troops inspected were a number of men who had recently joined us, and who had consequently no idea as to whom the inspecting officer might be—also the ration of bread at that time was one loaf to three men. It was towards the end of the inspection, and the small squad of brass caps was walking down the ranks of a certain platoon—one of the newcomers took one look at the Corps Commander and remarked in a loud undertone, “Gee Whiz! Fancy being three men on a loaf with that old beggar.”
The German Army was now in full retreat, and from intelligence received, it seemed likely that from now on we would have a difficult task in even keeping in touch with it. Starting on the 22nd of the month we began a series of advances, which only ended when the Armistice terms had been signed and the Armistice line established about five miles east of Mons.
This advance through country and villages, which had so long been occupied by a cruel and overbearing enemy, will live forever in the memories of all who took part in it. The people seemed to be crazed with the joy of liberty—there wasn’t anything they wouldn’t do for “les braves Canadiens,” as they called us—flowers were strewn along the streets, bouquets were showered on us, and even kisses. Wine was dug up from where it had been hastily cached in 1914, and from personal experience we can assert that it showed no sign of deterioration for its four years’ rest.
These were good days for France, and for us, too, and on the 10th of November we were billetted in a small town called Wasmuel, waiting for orders to take over the front line, at present occupied by the 7th Brigade. At about 8 o’clock on the morning of the 11th November the following order arrived from Brigade H.Q.:
“The 116th Battalion will move up forthwith and take over the line from the 7th Brigade, holding a front line from Q. 9 central to K. 19 central aaa. After taking over the line the battalion will stand fast aaa. Hostilities will cease at 11 a.m. to-day aaa. All precautions to be taken against the enemy aaa. No intercourse with the enemy whatever to take place aaa. O.C. 116th Battalion will report to 9th Brigade H.Q. immediately, and will receive instructions as to route. Acknowledge.”