13th Battalion, 3rd Infantry Brigade,
Canadian Contingent,
West Down South Camp,
Salisbury Plain,
29 October, 1914

My dear Father:

My unique combination of duties sacred and secular gives me a pleasing variety of work. I take part in two regular daily parades, and give the necessary words of command to the second platoon of the "base” company. This platoon arrangement is new. Hitherto an infantry battalion has usually consisted of 8 or more companies of 100 men or more. Now in war time it consists of 1,000 men, divided into 4 double companies, headquarters, and machine gun section. Each double company has a commanding officer (major or captain) each in charge of a platoon. The double company contains 227 men of all ranks. This battalion, made up of the Royal Highlanders of Canada, embraces all these and a "base” company as well, composed of 2 platoons. This base company, I understand, does not at first go to the front, but remains at the base, guarding the "stuff" (to use the Biblical term) and it furnishes men from its ranks to take the place of combatants killed or wounded. Naturally there is not much keenness on the part of the men to be enrolled in this particular company, and there is a strong desire on the part of other companies to hand over undesirables to the base company. The result is that it contains a strange variety. Some of the men are excellent fellows, and others, as you would judge to look at them, are mentally or physically more or less below par. Capt. Buchanan, who was asked to take command of this company, had no enviable Job. But he played the game well, and took charge, single-handed. As the company was short of officers the major asked me to help him, and I do so gladly. A lieutenant, serving under the captain, has the first platoon, and, for the time being, I have the second. But only for the time being. Whenever the regiment goes to the front and this company remains behind for a bit, I go with the regiment. My platoon usually has the distinction of marching at the tail end, so I have little more to do than judge distance occasionally and repeat orders already given to others. The chief difficulty in our Canadian troops generally, and in this company in particular, is to secure discipline. On each and every occasion, not only when the order is "march at ease" and men are allowed to talk and smoke, but even when they are drilling and are supposed to be marching at attention, they are apt to chatter like magpies. You pull them up for it, you explain the need for silence, and then, five minutes later, the babble of conversation begins again. Some of then seem constitutionally unable to hold their tongues for ten minutes at a time. But they do show some improvement, the tongues do not wag quite so freely as they did when Buchanan first tried to drill his Falstaff’s army. Yesterday, on a route march, when we were passing through a village, and a good-looking barmaid or a pretty parlour-maid appeared at a door or window, one might with luck, command silence for half a minute, but it was a great strain on the men. When a number of elderly dames appeared, there was no need to call out "Silence"; the men discriminated. Of course talking in the ranks is not a serious crime, but it is distracting, and unless men can control themselves enough to hold their tongues, you cannot be sure of their self-control at other times. If officers had nothing more to worry about than talking now and then, their task would be easy. But you can readily understand that in a regiment of over 1000 men you get a strangely mixed multitude. In time of war you have a sprinkling of university man serving in the ranks, usually the cleanest, the most respectful and the readiest to do their work. You get some old soldiers. The good soldiers, who are trained and experienced, are a great asset to the regiment. The old soldiers who are not good, are a nuisance. They are up to every trick and dodge, they are fertile in all kinds of plausible excuses; they will do anything to get beer or something stronger, and you have to watch them as a cat watches a mouse. One man, for instance, failed to appear on parade. His captain inquired where he was, and all his comrades stated that he had gone to the Y.M.C.A. tent to write home, and had not heard the order. When the man, some hours later, turned up, and found that the first excuse would not work, he had a second ready – he was looking for a brother he had not seen for years, who had enlisted in another regiment. In his pious eagerness to find this brother he had tramped all afternoon from camp to camp, and he had missed the parade. On Saturday evening, when Buchanan was away, I had at least a dozen men applying to me for passes to the adjacent villages. Some showed the keenest interest in their ward­robes. They pleaded that they had no chance to wash or dry their clothes in camp, because of the rain, they must have everything ship-shape for Sunday, and therefore they wished to go, half a dozen together, to a village a couple of miles away to bring home clean garments. I suggested that they draw lots to see which of the group should make the trip for them all, and that I would sign a pass for him to go alone. Then their interest in immaculate clothing seemed to die away. Others displayed the highest concern for their teeth, and must needs go to another village to have the dentist set them right. I pointed out that no dentist would attend to them at that hour, and suggested the hospital tent for the relief of toothache. Strange to say, the toothache and the concern for the welfare of the teeth disappeared. This afternoon, in another company, soon after the march began, one man asked leave to go back to his tent because he had no shirt. He opened his tunic for the lieutenant's inspection, and, sure enough, he was like the beggar in the poem of "The King's Shirt", he "hadn't a shirt to his back". As the day was chilly, the lieutenant could do nothing but give him leave, although he knew the chances were ten to one that the man had left his shirt in his tent in order to escape the parade. If all men really felt the same concern for personal cleanliness that some men feign, much discomfort might be avoided to their tent-mates. You can understand that when there are 8 men in a tent, and one of them never washes his clothes or his person unless driven to it at the point of the bayonet, the other 7 will suffer. It has been suggested that such men be grouped together in one tent, so that they could annoy only men of habits like their own, or that they be compelled to spend a few chilly nights out of doors, until they learned cleanliness. I don't know just what the remedy will be. But the chief trouble among a host of men is drunkenness. At Valcartier it could be checked. No [one?] could get liquor nearer than Quebec, 18 miles away, and few could be there at a time, although some of those few caused a lot of disturbance. Here there are villages a few miles from camp, and at first the men would risk any punishment for the sake of a visit to the nearest public-house. General Alderson, who commands the Canadian Contingent, decided that it would be better to have beer sold in the camp canteen, so that the drouthy could get light beer at reasonable prices there, instead of breaking bounds and getting strong liquor at high prices in the villages. The business done in the canteen on the opening day was fabulous; you could hardly get near the place for the crowd. Still, I think the general's plan is better than the promiscuous drinking in public houses. In the officers' mess, and in the sergeants' mess, beer can always be had by paying for it, but I have not seen an officer of this regiment go to excess.

30 Oct., 1914.
In camp, in spite of chilly evenings and occasional rain, we are very comfortable. Among the officers, oil stoves are popular. The paymaster bought one and we have it in our tent. When bed time comes, it makes a big difference to be able to undress in the warm air before one tucks himself between his blankets for the night. In the morning our "batman" comes and lights the stove before we get up. Thus we have comfort for dressing and hot water for shaving.

At first the catering for the officers was done by Harrod's Ltd. All the officers of the brigade fed in the one big marquee, owned and operated by the firm of caterers. We found it expensive and comfortless. Steps were taken to get our own mess. Now it is in full swing, and we all prefer it. The mess tent is close at hand, the cook's tent beside it. Breakfast is served from 7.30 to 8.15, lunch is at 12.30, and dinner at 6. Then there is the convenience of having this tent as a writing and smoking room. A stove was installed yesterday, so we can sit there with some comfort, and if one finds it still chilly, he can wear his greatcoat.

The weather is Just what one might expect in England at this time of year. Some days are as perfect as mortal could wish, others are dull and depressing. But some of us have always enough to keep us occupied, and therefore don't spend too much time discussing the weather.

This morning there is a levee being held in our tent. At midnight tho paymaster and his sergeant returned from Salisbury with cash for monthly payments. Consequently there is a long line-up now. As this business is not conducive to writing, I shall call a halt.

With warmest love to each one,
Ever your loving son,
A.M.G.