April 25, 1917
I made my sketched not too far from the Lodge today. I was looking away from the lake. You can see the skeletons of a few dead pines from an afterburn and the groves of small birches. It’s the birches that always come in first.
I spent a long time talking to Mark Robinson today. We spent time together walking along the rails to clear any brush that might catch fire and to check on the bridges and trestles. No problems yet, the flood waters are starting to recede a little, but he’s still following orders by Bartlett to check the rails, bridges and trestles twice daily.
A troop train passed through and I could see Mark’s face cringe with sadness. I asked him about the War and said he was lucky to make his way back. Since he was one of the older men (almost 50 years) he was ordered to stay behind and let the younger ones fight. It was terrible to behold he said. He didn’t like talking about it, but he said one thing that really shook me. He said the deaths were completely useless. It accomplished nothing. He said it was the old men at home who started the war, while the young men would fight and die. And it was the old men who lived to glorify what the young men had sacrificed.
Mark told me (in confidence) that there was simply no use fighting. The British had no regard for the Dominion and Colonials. When the British ordered an attack it gave the German machine gunners straightforward work. Indeed you could see the disbelief in machine gunners’ eyes when the British sent wave over wave of young men to their deaths. If it wasn’t the German machine gun bullets that killed the men, it was British chlorine gas. A breeze in the wrong direction took out a whole regiment, killing one half, and blinding the other.
He said that when he took the shrapnel, it was a relief. Although wounded he knew he’d come back alive, and he did. The young fresh faces he saw going in the other direction, he knew they weren’t coming back. His view of the war had certainly changed. Mark didn’t really talk to anyone about his opinions and beliefs especially with George Bartlett. Mark respected authority and kept his mouth shut. But with me he was open and honest. He said, ‘Tom, get out while you have a chance’
I may pay a visit to Lowrie Dickson tonight. He has the only whisky in the Park.