"This is some coincidence, kid, mine was in the ankle, too."
"Which one?"
"The left."
"Same here. When did you get your final chunk taken off?" I asked.
"About thirty hours back."
"Same here. But, say, who gave you the right to mimic me?"
We talked and talked until exhausted and we were told to stop it.
This wonderful chain of coincidences would scarcely be complete were I to leave out the fact that we are of the same age, enlisted at the same time, in the same company, and, as related above, were wounded at the same time, in the same battle, on the same day. And, to make the chain perfect, we received our artificial legs on the same day in the city of Toronto, Ontario. And, the finishing touch to the list, here we are again, working together for all we are worth in the task of getting recruits through the British-Canadian Recruiting Mission in Chicago. Little wonder is it that we are christened the "War Twins."
Time sped rapidly in the hospital, and the Angel of Healing, coupled with the untiring ministrations of two of the dearest women, my night, and my day nurses, rapidly brought me back to my normal condition of health.
I cannot go further without telling of the wonderful power that lies in a good woman. Nurse Daniels, the night sister, called me her "model patient." I suppose she called every other patient the same thing, unknown to the others. This woman could make men feel better by simply smiling at them. It was pitiful to see the eagerness with which the boys watched for her coming at night. In she would walk, erect as a guardsman, looking the perfect English lady in her uniform.