CARRYING WOUNDED SIX THOUSAND

Pte. Harry Low, Winnipeg Boy With 9th Field Ambulance, Describes Glorious Action of Passchendaele.

From Harry R. Low, serving with the 9th Canadian Field Ambulance, has been received a graphic description of events prior to and during the action at Passchendaele early in November last. Pte. Low, a former member of the Free Pres staff, is one of the two soldier sons of Ed. W. Low, secretary of the Army and Navy veterans.

Pte. Low writes as follows:

“Our move from France to Belgium was a very unwelcome piece of news. However, we packed up and made our way to that swampy part of the country. We hadn’t got quite settled in our new barn or quarters (well back of the line, we thought) when old Fritzie came across in his Gothas and started to throw iron rations around. Holy smoke! they are big planes: they carry about 16 bombs weighing 60lbs. each, and the concussion from the bombs is terrific. However, he didn’t drop very many around our district, as the anti-aircraft guns were pretty busy and made it pretty hot for him. I was over to see what damage he did—all I saw were some big holes in a field, so his bombs were thrown away.

Carrying Stretcher Cases.

“Well, that night being moonlight he was over again in bunches. He got my wind up, as you can’t see him only when he gets in the moonlight, but you can hear his blamed engine purring away. Well, the hearing of the engine was enough for me; could not sleep—darned if you knew where the next bomb was going to drop. At that time I was still despatch riding and he was always trying for the roads, but, as luck would have it, he couldn’t make a hit, although some fell close but no damage was done. Our first trip in the line was for 14 days, then the ambulance came out for a rest a few miles back. We stayed there a short time, when we were called back again. This time I had to go as stretcher-bearer, as a new order came out that only C.A.E.C. men were to run the motor-driven vehicles, so it was a shock to me, as before I used to go only to the ordnance dressing station. Well, anyway, I was ordered up on a six-man squad, and you had to carry over land with the stretcher cases on your shoulders, that is, four men to a stretcher, and change when you were tired. The first trip was very good, as very few shells fell very near us. At that time we had to carry only 1 ½ miles away. We only had one trip the first day, and at night we slept next to a German gun emplacement. During the night the guns were all going off about the same time, and talk about noise—you could not hear yourself talk. It was just like one big roar. Well, it was like this all night, so mighty little sleep we got.

High Explosive Shrapnel.

“The next day we stayed at the main dressing station lading the cars with stretcher cases. The shelling all day was pretty heavy, although none fell very near us. That night we went down to a place where we could get a decent sleep. It was a big tunnel or dugout, and once down in the place you couldn’t hear much gun noise, although it was like a rumble. We had a fair rest—stayed there 24 hours; then up to the line again, with the best of luck. We got up to an aid post which was bout 1 ½ miles from the M.D. station; here we had a rest, as up to this place we had tough going—nothing but shell holes and water. Once off the path and it was good night; it only meant you would be up to you waist in slime. Well, after we had our little shot of rum we were detailed to go right up to the regimental clearing station, which was at this time only a few hundred yards from our front line, and I guess you would know the place by now, as the newspapers would most likely put the name in red ink. Well, we left the pill-box to go up. We just got nicely started when old Fritzie began to put over H.E. shrapnel with other shells of all calibers. It sure looked pretty warm for us.

Hairbreadth Escapes.

“We had to get up, so we murmured a prayer and away we went. Well, our trip up was fierce. I guess I will be unable to tell you what I saw and what we went through. Coming back, the shelling had died down to the normal again, which helped out a good deal. When we arrived at the aid post we were all in and just plastered with mud and slime. We stayed there for one hour, then carried our case to the M.D.S. This time the shelling was severe around the artillery lines which we had to go through. How we got through I cannot tell you, as the shells were bursting not more than 20 yards away, but, very fortunately, the ground is so soaked that the shells when detonated sink away in the slime, and unless they get a direct hit very little damage is done. On the one trip we were covered twice with dirt. However, we got back all right but were completely all in. We stayed at the M.D.S. all night and got a little sleep during the night. Fritzie put over a bunch of gas shells, two of which hit the M.D.S. On with our helmets for 20 minutes or so. The new gas is pretty bad. God help a fellow if it gets on the clothing, as it eats right through and raises big white blisters on your flesh. I have seen some bad cases.

Pinned by Enemy Barrage.

The next day we went down the line for our 24 hours’ rest, which was welcome. After this rest we had one more day to put in up the line. I was wishing we were through. Well, I should smile. This day I think the prayers at home must have done the trick, as I never want to go through the barrages as we did. One barrage kept us next to a pill-box for three hours. After a while it eased down somewhat, and we took a chance to take our stretch case back. Going back, well, enough said, the shell that had our number was a “dud,” as it fell five feet away and again covered us with slime. Well, this was enough for me. When arriving we received a good “issue,” so felt much better for it. My ankle started to give me trouble, so was walking pretty lame. When we got to the M.D.S. I was feeling pretty shaky. The M.O. looked at my ankle and he said that I had better take few hours’ rest. It seems a flying piece of something hit my ankle and stiffened the tendons of my leg. Our squad had one small trip, but somebody took my place, for which I was truly thankful. We got orders to pack up and the cars took us to headquarters. The next day the big trucks took us away from old Belgium, and we said a soldier’s farewell to the boundary line when passing it.

At present we are away back of the line in France and I guess will be here for another two weeks; then I suppose back to the old line once again. So that will mean another Christmas in the line. Oh, well, one day is just the same as another, so it does not matter.

P.S.—Our carry was 6,000 yards. Some carry, eh?