Seconded to different units

Having been mobile troops, we were seconded to different units, and we were sent to, by the back roads, from say Amiens to the Somme or something like that so that if there was a break through by the Germans on the French front, it was right on the edges of where the Canadians and the French were almost in juxtaposition, but the French line gave and so they sent some of our cyclists down the back roads, down to the Somme, that way, you see. In other words, by virtue of being mobile we could ride from the front line part down to the back roads and down south and then back in again. But I remember one incident there, where my father was in the – he was paymaster sergeant of the 124th Battalion - and I got permission to - he was stationed at Souchez on the pimple - and I got permission from the commanding officer to ride over to see my father. So I found the (inaudible) dugout, and I asked where I could find my father, and they said, “Oh, he’s in a dugout about two hundred yards up the road and you’ll see a little sign on the board, Paymaster Sergeant.” So I cycled up there and propped my bike up against this sign board and went down the dugout and I got down about four steps, and I was up over my ankles in water. I went down another three steps, and I was up to . . . halfway up my thighs in water. And I said, “Is anybody here? ” A voice said, “Who’s that? ” And I said, “Dad, where are you? ” He says, “Oh my God, it’s Dick.” I said, “Where are you, dad? ” He says, “I’m over here.” I said, “What are you doing? ” He said, “Having a sleep.” I went over to him and he was lying on a chicken wire bed and there was about two inches under the water. And he didn’t even catch a cold. And he was about 42 years old at the time. He was blown up and buried alive twice at Vimy, but his pals dug him out, not because they loved him, but because he had all their money. That’s the reason he gave.