Luckily it made me foresee the worst horror--the ignominy
of living perhaps fifty years with a self who was dishonoured and had
sunk beneath his own best standards. Of course there were also moments
of exaltation when the boy-spirit of adventure loomed large; it seemed
splendidly absurd that I was going to be a soldier, a companion-in-arms
of those lordly chaps who had fought at Senlac, sailed with Drake and
saved the day for freedom at Mons. Whether I was exalted or depressed,
a power stronger than myself urged me to work feverishly to the end
that, at the first opportunity, I might lay aside my occupation, with
all my civilian obligations discharged.
When that time came, my first difficulty was in communicating my
decision to my family; my second, in getting accepted in Canada. I was
perhaps more ignorant than most people about things military. I had
not the slightest knowledge as to the functions of the different arms
of the service; infantry, artillery, engineers, A.S.C.--they all
connoted just as much and as little. I had no qualifications. I had
never handled fire-arms. My solitary useful accomplishment was that I
could ride a horse. It seemed to me that no man ever was less fitted
for the profession of killing. I was painfully conscious of
self-ridicule whenever I offered myself for the job. I offered myself
several times and in different quarters; when at last I was granted a
commission in the Canadian Field Artillery it was by pure
good-fortune.
Pages:
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70