One Hundred Days

Declaration

August 1914.  Toronto, Ontario.

Darling Mary,

Although it is not news to you, as you grace the streets of London, I cannot help but echo the resounding cry that has befallen the streets: It is done! Britain has declared war on Germany and the Canadians shall be going to war!

How glorious that we shall be able to fight along-side the homeland! I have been following the news closely since Germany declared war on France and Belgium. It is such a brutal campaign, and I feel poorly for all those involved. Our Prussian enemies seem very intent on showing off the power they hold. The strong economy, large population and reinforced armed forces that have been worrisome to the Crown for so long is finally rearing its ugly head. Britain can no longer afford to live in "splendid isolation". The Empire is threatened and we must respond.

Furthermore, England must consider its promises. The alliance created with France and Russia as a part of the Triple Entente must hold firm. It is our sovereign duty to come to the aide in defending any territory that has been lost by our alliances. No one country can form a stronghold in Europe! The British government had tremendous foresight in this matter. As soon as I heard of the mobilization in Europe, I was certain that our Empire would vanquish the foreign enemies within a fortnight. We shall persevere and we shall prosper.

Like many of my fellow Torontonians, I had flocked downtown to listen for the announcement of what was to come. So many of us have only recently left the shores of jolly old England. Very few of my neighbours live without a Union Jack present in their windows. We share tea and biscuits and talk of home. Now we have even more to unite us as we stand firm on the ground of the Dominion of Canada. We take up arms and join our brothers and sisters in Europe once more!

Truly, Sister, the sight was remarkable. Thousands were in the street; a veritable throng of phenomenal enthusiasm and expatriates who have never forgotten their roots. Traffic was at a standstill, and the policemen in the area were forced to provide crowd control. The entire place was teeming with people: men, women, and children, all of whom were waiting with bated breath to see the outcome of England's ultimatum: pull back your invasion of Belgium and France or face our wrath.

You could have heard a pin drop as the clock tower struck seven. The first came with such a clamour that the din of the crowd was practically muted. With each subsequent ring, the rumblings dulled until there was naught but silence filling the air. It was as if the entire multitude had collectively drawn in their breath. Nothing happened straightaway. In our excitement, we forgot to account for the time it takes for the wire to cross under the ocean. Nevertheless, the news was coming. Not fifteen minutes later a local newsboy climbed above the crowd shouting, "Get the War Cry!" into the relative calm.

A beat passed. The weight of the words sunk home. Then a cheer of epic proportions erupted from the throats of every individual in sight. So proud are we to be helping the cause!

Within minutes, sounds of drums beating thrummed through the crowds. Impromptu regiments of young boys began to march in formation. Everywhere flags were being waved. Yes, the Union Jack was on full display and it made me long for home with alacrity that tears sprung to my eyes. No sooner had I recovered before our next auditory pleasure presented itself.

A rag-tag marching military band, most likely formed by gathering of local cadets, appeared and started playing "God Save the King" jubilantly. If a piano had been readily available, I would have been ready to join in with my favourite Music Hall tunes. The voices of those around me sang out clearly and brightly, singing for the future of our country and Empire. It was breathtaking. My heart soared.

A flurry of activity followed. Immediately, men were discussing the location of the city's armouries so that they may line up outside and be some of the first to enlist. The resounding message will be that Canada's troops, especially the Torontonians, will be ready to spring into action at any moment. Ottawa surely must be in contact with the powers that be at home. The minute King George accepts the offer of able-bodied Canadian men they will be ready to go. One man boasted that he had taken care of his affairs in such a way that he could leave with as little as twelve hours notice. Just send the word, Borden!

Beyond the pride of fighting, there is an undercurrent of excitement. Enlistment also offers the prospects of a steady income, something that most men cannot find here in Toronto during this recession. Additionally, a free uniform and chance to visit England in the near future are equally as appealing. How fortuitous, indeed, that our young men have also been thrust into the path of gainful employment.

That offer, I hope, also extends to me, dear Sister. Even though it has not been long since I finished my training, I intend to offer up my services as a nurse overseas. I have already worked with so many patients that I feel I must bring my skills forward to fight the good fight. Where there is war, there will be the wounded. I cannot sit idly by on Canadian soil when I may be needed to tend to those who will defend my country.

Already we have seen the benefit of having nursing join the ranks alongside soldiers. Many travelled to South Africa and nursed the wounded during the Boer War in the same fashion that Florence Nightingale nursed the wounded in the Crimean War. I heard of it all from one of the matrons at Toronto General Hospital. She had once worked with Georgina Pope herself, and spoke highly of the Canadian Army Nursing Service.

It is destined that women with my acquired skills should fall in line. When the appeal comes, I want to be one of the first to volunteer, just like the men who surround me. I might even be able to climb the ranks in the same manner as the men; an opportunity that only Canada offers. Furthermore, if I am to understand my sources correctly, I will qualify for the same privileges and pay as the soldiers. How novel!

Yes, Mary, I am resolute. I know you must be thinking I have been caught up in the avidity of those around me, but it is categorically untrue. Rather, the events that are unfolding have compounded my wants and desires to have a positive impact on the world. What better chance can present itself? Additionally, I am not afraid. Not of leaving my new country, not of leaving Father and Mother, and not even of travelling to the front lines. I am strong.

Goodness, I have gone on too long. The wick of the candle is sputtering in the darkness and my ink pot has nearly run dry. I do so hope you can read my poor scribbles, as my hands are still shaking with excitement, even now. I set home well past midnight, and immediately I felt I must write to you to tell you my plans.

Please do not speak of this to Momma and Poppa yet. I plan to send a separate correspondence to Sudbury, one that shall include a picture of me in my very own fine army uniform! How resplendent I shall be!

Love, etc,

Samantha