THE YPRES TIMES
to go upon; all was hitherto hearsay, and you may readily appreciate their eager
ness upon leaving camp at Ostend one drizzly morning to make a tour of the
battlefields around Ypres.
Their interest was quickened by their Scoutmaster, who, as the train jogged
along, graphically described the events of many years back, in which he took part,
yet which seemed to have happened but a few months previously. At last they
descended from the train to fulfil, in person, the tour to which they had so long
looked forward, and set out from the station bearing their Colours (which they
had brought all the way from their village especially for this great occasion) before
them, and thus approached the Memorial of Sacrificethe Menin Gate. Just a bend
in the road that runs straight from the stationand there it stoodTheir hearts
beat a li'ttle faster as they came to a halt beneath the lofty canopy.
It would be impossible to describe each boy's thoughts, yet I know that they
all visualized the endless stream of soldiers that, during those four ghastly years,
passed o_ver the very soil whereon they now stood. One of them left the ranks, and
his heart glowing with pride for belonging to the same race, laid a wreath in token
of gratitude. He was followed by four of his fellows, who marched to the end
facing the battlefields, and drew in a deep breath as they hoisted their bugles.
They were ready now to call to the spirits of the generations past the lost
generation; and how the notes rang out! Were caught up by the very Memorial
and echoed again and again, as if, indeed, those fallen heroes were in the roof
caressing the echoes, loth to let them fade.
How did those four young buglers feel? They conquered their nervousness,
knowing that nothing but the best they could give would be worthy, and so they
steeled themselves to their task and sounded the Last Post to the solemn end.
Then they paused and the silence could be felt. Our hearts were full to
overflowingwhere were those glorious warriors who had lost everything, given
everything, even themselves that we might live on in safety Should we see them
again, or were they gone for ever? We devoutly hoped not.
We prayed that we might live worthily so that their sacrifice should not be in
vain, and, as if in answer to that prayer, out rang the dear notes of the "Réveille,"
calling us to rise and go forth, witnesses of brotherhood and comradeship. And
so we departedgrateful and filled with a sense of peace.
The boys, now having paid homage in their own way, dismissed, and wandered
round the memorial, trying to discover the names of relatives whom they knew had
been reported missing. What a host of names! Tablet upon tablet, row after
row, never ending colmns of names until the mind utterly failed to grasp the
numberyet these were only the missing! A little later they would see the graves
of the dead.
No figures had conveyed to their minds the vastness of the sacrifice which their
country had been called upon to make as did those walls of names. Outside, inside,
high up, and low down and along corridors, so that one did not know where one
had begun searching, were column upon column of heroes' names. May God in
His wisdom lead the nations in peace, so that need for another sacrifice such as this
may never again arise.
Then followed a moving panoramic tour of the surrounding battlefields.
Cemetery upon cemetery, some small, some huge, but all neat and tidy, were passed.
We stopped at one or two, and reverently visited the memorials in them. The
figure of a Canadian Tommy leaning with bowed head upon his inverted rifle, as
if ever watching over his comrades, was indeed touching.