Dear Mother:

Somewhere in Quebec,

Sunday October 22nd, 1916

It is some time since I really wrote you a letter. I’ve lived so much in the past few days that to write an account of it that would do it justice would take pages----perhaps reams.

Oct 23.—I was interrupted last night by a bunch of the boys gathering around for a little sing-song which continued till "lights out". We are now into New Brunswick I think. Every little village we have passed through so far has been distinctly French in appearance. The first building in each village is the R.C. Church. They seem to go in strong for beautiful architecture in their churches even though their houses and buildings are not up to a very high standard--- much like our own 25 years ago. This morning we saw a man ploughing with a team—one horse and one ox.

Reg Topp is on this train as he got transferred with his pals of "D" company of the 170th.  A week ago Sunday Mary Topp and another girl were up to Camp Borden and as eating accommodation was limited I took them to the Sergeant’s mess for supper.--- last Friday was the final farewell for the 170th and a great crowd of friends came up. It rained nearly all afternoon and spoiled the day for sight-seeing. However, my friends’ friends seemed to have a good time. It is such a trial for them to see how the soldiers live under canvas. The heavy showers flooded a few of the tents in low-lying ground and in one of them I saw everything practically submerged and a pair of shoes floating in the middle of it. But the water soon disappeared in the sand over the wet surface.

Friday night was the last night we spent in Camp Borden and on Sat. about 2 p.m. we entrained, mistakes were made in our arrangements for entraining and the men of the different platoons were not kept together in all cases. The result was that when we got to Union Station there was a great deal of confusion, and a few of the men did not meet their friends. One of the pathetic cases was Corporal Metcalfe of my platoon who missed his wife and kids. He is such a fine fellow and so fond of his children that it spoiled the afterthoughts of our farewell for me. I was on the platform directing traffic but was sent to a different coach from the one I occupy and so nearly missed Marjorie and Bailie. But I had lots of friends there and after the crowds that jammed together got moving it wasn’t so bad. There was such a crush that several women fainted and the only way I could save a baby from injury was to take it from its mother and hold it shoulder height and being above the average height I managed to hold it till the crowd got restored to order. There must have been thousands there and the parcels handed to men would weigh tons, I think. As we pulled out of the station, for hundreds of yards people stood and waved to us holding out their hands to shake as we went by. We who stood on the platform had the advantage in the hand gripping act and we did full justice to it---I did not see Mae, but Ellis had parcels of eats and smokes for us and handed them over but before he went back to get Mae the train pulled out. The 170th surely went away knowing that they had thousands of friends behind them. It was a wonderful and touching send-off---something that we will never forget and also which is worthwhile living to receive. I guess I won’t see a Toronto paper for some time, and of course the reporters will be unable to do justice to such an incident in a newspaper account.

The train is bumping so much that I can hardly write. The scenery resembles that of Northern Ontario only is on a smaller scale. The rocks and mountains are not so bare and glaring as those along C.P.R. in Northern Ontario. We must detrain at Campbelltown, N.B. We have just been off the train for an hour’s route march at Campbelltown, N.B. We got our limbs stretched and had a look at the place and the inhabitants and found everything good. The people on one street threw apples at us and caused a little disorganization of the ranks but the officers were the only ones to take exception to any such disregard for military etiquette.

There is a big river here and just beyond it a great hill lit up by the sun whereas where we are is under a cloud. The view is simple wonderful—and everybody is sitting up to take notice. We should be in Halifax tomorrow morning about 3 or 4 o’clock. Our time is now one our slower than the time here. We are now stopped at a pretty N.B. village and the bugles are giving a few calls for the general benefit. We do not see so many R.C. churches but other denominations have a representation in this province. I don’t know whether we go right onto the boat at Halifax or not, but I will try to write you from there. It may be held for some time—perhaps until we get to England but you should get this o.k. When you are through with this I wish you would send it to Rae.

With love, Cannon