Home Fires

by Susan Cameron

  The next day, when she picked up the mail with Hal and Henry, she asked the postmistress if she knew of any puppies available.

  “Why, yes, I do, as a matter of fact. My friend Bertha has a spaniel that had a litter of pups about a month ago. I’m sure that she’d be happy to give you one. Her dog has a sweet, gentle nature. I’m afraid that the puppies are likely a mixed breed though.” She continued chattering, unaware that Annie was moving to leave. “You know Bertha, don’t you? She lives just one street over, in the blue stucco house with a green front door. You can’t miss it. I’m sure the old gal is colour blind. Ha! Ha! Tell Bertha I’ll be over to visit her on Sunday when you see her.”

  Annie thanked the woman, relieved to end the one-sided conversation, and decided to stroll over to Bertha’s house to see the pups. A frail elderly woman opened the green door.

  “Hello, are you Bertha?” Annie asked. The woman nodded and smiled. “I’m Annie Kidd, and these are my boys Hal and Henry. I heard that your dog recently had a litter. Are you trying to find homes for the pups? I’m looking for one for my children to replace the dog we lost in the fire.”

  “Come in, come in. I do have puppies and I’d be happy to give you one.”

  Annie kicked the snow off her boots and carried Hal and Henry inside. Bertha helped Hal with his hat and mittens, then took Henry so Annie could remove her boots. Hal clung to the bottom of his mother’s coat as they followed the woman into her kitchen.

  There was a large pine box by the cook stove and inside was a small black and white dog surrounded by four rambunctious balls of fur. Annie could see that the mother was gentle and patient, even with Hal’s excited squeals as he tried to pet the puppies. She chose a tiny black pup, and cuddled his soft, warm little body against her neck.

  “Ah, this little fellow is just perfect. I’d like to take him with us today, if that’s all right.”

  “Of course dear, but I’m afraid that one is the runt and will likely remain small.”

  “That’s why I chose him. Our last dog was the size of a small pony!” Bertha laughed, and Annie continued, “I can’t thank you enough. I assure you that he will be well loved.”

  Bertha offered them tea, but Annie declined. “We have to be going, but feel free to stop by anytime to visit the pup.” She said goodbye and tucked the puppy inside her coat for the walk home; she pulled Hal and Henry in a sleigh with her other hand.

  The older boys were ecstatic. They argued over what to name him until Annie finally said, “Oh, let Hal choose a name.”

  The boys all looked doubtfully at Hal.

  “Pick a good name, Hal, but it can’t be Mike,” prodded Georgie.

  Hal thought very hard and then said, “Potato.”

  Bobby groaned and Jack and Georgie rolled onto the floor in fits of laughter. Annie saw Hal’s eyes water, so quickly intervened.

  “Potato is a good name, Hal, but what if we called him Spud. A spud is a potato.” They all agreed and set about welcoming the newest member of the family.

  Annie continued to worry over the lack of money; her separation allowance hadn’t come in yet. She had given up hope that it would arrive in time for Christmas. Reluctantly she told the younger boys that Father Christmas couldn’t come this year because there was too much snow. Shock registered on their faces and they began to whimper. She couldn’t have felt worse. Later that afternoon, when she asked Bobby where Georgie was, he told her to look out the window. She walked over and looked out. Georgie was shovelling a path right down to the bare ground.

  “Oh, no! That’s for Father Christmas, isn’t it?” Her voice broke. She sat heavily in a kitchen chair and covered her face with her hands.

  Bobby came over and patted her back. “Don’t worry, Mum. We can make something for them and say it’s from Father Christmas. Besides, Spud is the best Christmas gift ever!”

  Annie bundled up Hal and Henry almost every day and pulled them on a sleigh to the post office to check for mail and to drop off her letters to Jim. A few days before Christmas, there were a couple of parcels waiting for her. One package was quite large, so she had to place it on the sleigh beside Hal and make a sling from her scarf to carry Henry. Both packages came from Catherine and Alfred.

  When they got home, she carried the two parcels to the empty dining room. Though it was hard to contain her curiosity, she waited until Hal and Henry had been fed and put to bed for their nap before she opened the packages. The large box, to her delight, contained a huge Christmas goose, ready for the oven. The second parcel contained English tea, a tin of toffee, homemade shortbread, and an assortment of colourful rubber balls, puzzles, children’s books and brightly painted wood blocks. Tucked under the blocks, she found a bar of lilac soap. She hid the boxes in the cellar, thrilled to be able to give the boys a proper Christmas thanks to her brother and sister-in-law.

  On Christmas Eve day, Bobby and Jack went out, saying they had a job to do, and took the sleigh with them. They returned several hours later, rosy-cheeked and cold, dragging an evergreen tree behind them.

  “Wherever did you find a tree?” Annie laughed. “I didn’t think there was a tree left standing for miles.”

  “A while ago I spotted some trees untouched by the fire, between the river and the bush road near the mill,” Bobby replied, “Jack and I decided to keep it a secret so we could surprise you.” The two boys shook the snow from the branches, pulled the tree inside and went to work setting it up in their unfurnished sitting room.

  That night after dinner, they decorated the tree with homemade paper chains and pine cones. Jack and Georgie said they would look for more cones and berries the next day to add to it. Bobby made a barricade across the entrance to the dining room to keep curious little Spud out.

  While the children were asleep that night, Annie sat quietly at the table and wrote a long letter to Jim, letting him know that his boys would have a proper Christmas. A wave of loneliness passed over her. The packages had reminded her of the time she had spent with Catherine and Alfie. She missed Catherine’s company. Then she smiled, remembering that wonderful day she had spent with Jim in Toronto before he’d had to return to his company. She got up to place more wood in the stove for the night, and put a pot of water on a burner to make some tea.

  She heard the click of Spud’s claws as he came down the stairs. The puppy seemed to sense Annie’s melancholic mood, and he licked her hand to comfort her, then settled at her feet. She reached down to pick up the little dog and nuzzled against his soft coat.

  Chapter Forty-One

  In the last days of December, the temperature plummeted to forty below. Annie and the children were stuck inside for several days. When she scratched at the frost covering the inside of her kitchen window and peered out, brilliant crystals twinkled in the high snow-banks, and the winter sun shone brightly in the pale, cloudless sky.

  Feeling house-bound, she decided to walk to the post office to mail a small parcel to Jim. The school was closed for Christmas vacation, so she asked Bobby and Jack to watch their little brothers while she was out. She draped her coat, scarves and mitts over a chair in front of the stove to warm them for a few minutes, and she dressed while the boys were still at the kitchen table, eating their porridge. Henry was on a blanket on the kitchen floor, contentedly sucking his fingers as he watched his brothers.

  A blast of frigid air rushed in when she cracked open the door and stepped outside. As she walked, the only sound was the crunch of her boots in the crusty snow. The air was still, and she marvelled at how the chimney smoke from nearby houses rose straight up to the sky, as if brushed with a stroke of white paint. Winter doesn’t seem such a hardship when the sun is shining, she thought. She thought of the damp, grey, overcast winters back in England and smiled to herself, recalling how her mother used to send her brothers outside in the winter, saying “It’s time to play outside and blow the stink off!” She took a deep breath of the frigid air and hurried her pace.

  When she arrived at the p
ost office, she was welcomed by the comforting smell of a wood fire crackling in the middle of the room. She stomped the snow from her boots, and walked up to the counter. The postmistress glanced up and greeted her warmly.

  “Good morning,” said Annie. “That certainly is a chilly morning outside, but it’s quite cozy in here. Have you anything for me today?”

  “Let me look. Ah, yes, here’s some mail from overseas.”

  The woman handed her four letters. Annie thanked her, paid for her stamps, and then sat down on a wooden bench by a window. She eagerly opened the letter postmarked November twelfth, and read.

  Dearest Annie,

  It was smooth sailing for most of the voyage over, with only a few days of rough weather. I envy your saltwater blood. I still detest ships. There were a couple of days when almost everyone on the ship was seasick. We shipped out on October thirty-first and arrived in England on November eleventh. Training is very intensive but I feel strong and fit. I received your letter and appreciate the copy of your photo and the notes and drawings from our boys. Your picture reminds me of that wonderful day we had in Toronto. I will keep it in my Bible, in the pocket over my heart.

  I wrote to Ma and received a couple of letters back saying everyone was well, except that she was a little concerned about your mother. Ma guessed that she must have moved, as there were new tenants in her place. I don’t know if I will have a chance to take the train up to South Shields to check on her for you before we ship out.

  I’m very thankful for the work the carpenters did to complete the house. I was sick with worry when I was forced to leave you and the bairns in a half-finished house with winter coming on.

  Ma also said that she will hunt for her pictures of Maggie and get copies made for you, and mail them to Canada.

  Take good care of yourself. They still say that this war won’t last long, and I sincerely hope that I will be home to spend Christmas next year with you and our boys.

  Love, Jim

  Annie folded the letter and replaced it in its envelope, then put all the letters into her pocket. She was puzzled about why Mother had moved and wondered how she would find out where she was living.

  When she returned home and stepped into her kitchen, Bobby called out, “I’m going to do my paper route now, Ma. I washed the dishes and changed Henry’s nappy.” He grinned at her. “Don’t worry, I washed the dishes first!”

  Annie chuckled as she removed her boots. “Thank you, son. Oh, if you have an extra newspaper, can you bring it home?”

  Bobby nodded, dressed in several layers and quickly disappeared out the door. Annie sat down at the table with her letters, able to read quietly before the babies woke up from their nap. She put them away when Jack and Georgie came in from outside, their cheeks bright red and noses running.

  Georgie was bubbling with excitement. “We played on the snow horse Bobby built us. We had fun, Mummy, but we had to come in ‘cause we got so cold.”

  When Bobby came back, Jack and Georgie were still sitting at the table sipping their tea. “I’m back,” he called out in his recently acquired deep voice. “I see you’ve put a scarf on your snow horse, Georgie. Maybe we should build a friend for him! Here’s the paper, Ma.”

  Annie took the newspaper and quickly browsed the front page. The headline declared a Russo-Rumanian offensive on a one-hundred-and-eighty-six-mile front. However, more interesting to her was an article about the Governor General, the Duke of Devonshire, reviewing Canada’s citizen army at Exhibition Camp in Toronto.

  “Listen to this, Bobby. The Governor General told the troops from Toronto that they would get their chance in Flanders. That means your father will be fighting in France or Belgium. If we follow the newspaper reports, we might be able to trace where your Da will be.”

  When Bobby kneeled to remove his boots, she discreetly turned the page to read the casualty roll. She wanted proof that Jim had not been injured or killed, even though she was certain he was still training in England.

  “People are acting very strange in town now,” Bobby said as he hung up his coat. “Some men are swearing at other men, calling them enemies, men they worked beside for years. They read the paper about the war, and you can see it gets their blood boiling. A lot of foreigners have left town since the fire, but more are leaving town now. Some men even pick on the Chinese workers and call them enemy aliens. Even I know that China is not an enemy to Canada or Britain!”

  Annie sighed. “Ah, Bobby, there are many bullies in this world and it’s probably easy for them to pick on men who are smaller or look different to them. This war is bringing out the best and the worst in people.”

  Early in March, Annie received a letter from Jim confirming that he was now somewhere in France. He was transferred out of his battalion on January thirtieth, and then transferred once again because of his experience with the railway company. The Railway Corps would leave England on February twenty-fourth, so he would be in the field by the time she received this letter. He wrote that he still kept her photo in the pages of his Bible, which he carried in his left breast pocket over his heart.

  He’s on the front now! She felt both dread and fear for him. Lord, keep Jim safe.

  That same month, Annie also received a thick letter from her brother George. When she had a quiet moment, she opened the envelope and sat down at her kitchen table to read.

  February 10, 1917 HQ, Cameron Highlander Barracks, Inverness, Scotland

  Dear Sister,

  I now take the pleasure of writing you these few lines hoping they find you and the children in the best of health. Well, Annie, I expect that you would have had a surprise when you found out that I was in the army. All I can tell you is that it wasn’t my blame that I got discharged out of the Navy as it was the last thing I was thinking about. It was through the drink as usual. We were getting our stores aboard the ship and a case of whiskey broke open on the deck. There was nobody in charge of us at the time so we got drunk and you can guess the rest. I got it for being an uninvited guest to the Captain’s whiskey. Annie, I can tell you that I am sorry I got a discharge but I knew what would happen if I took any of that stuff. Now that I am in the army I am going to see this war to the end and if I am spared to come out of it all right I am coming to New Ontario again and I am going to bring Elizabeth with me. I will let her stay with you while I go up to the gold mines again, and will send for her when I get everything fixed up.

  I am sorry to give you this news. Mother was forced out of her home for lack of rent money. They were going to send her to the poor house. When they discovered she was Norwegian and nearly blind, they deported her back to Bergen! I blame our brothers as they could have looked after her. They never even wrote and told me about it so I didn’t find out until two months after. When I was on leave I couldn’t help her. I didn’t have any money at the time. While I was down there I could have killed Jack, but he kept out of sight. The first chance I get I will have Mother live with us. Dear sister, I haven’t much more to say at present so I will close.

  Your loving brother, George

  P.S. You might let me have Jim’s address and tell me what regiment he is in, so I can drop him a few lines. Can you also send him my address as soon as you get this letter? Best respects to the children.

  Annie placed George’s letter on the table, and buried her face in her hands. Both Jim and George were risking their lives in this war and now her mother had been deported to Norway. She was angry that her brothers had not helped their mother and was sick with helplessness.

  She stood up and paced the room as she tried to think of what to do. How could she possibly find her mother? War was going on in Europe and she was isolated in Canada’s north. Norway may as well be the moon, she thought. She decided to write to her brothers and tell them that they needed to find their mother and bring her to Canada as soon as possible.

  By the time she had written to Jim, George and her other brothers, it was seven o’clock and she hadn’t fed the children their
supper. She had been lost in her fury of letter writing, and realized afterwards that her children had known she was upset and were quietly playing with the puppy in the empty sitting room. She gathered her letters and placed them on a shelf, then set to work to prepare a quick meal.

  Quite often, Annie would read the newspaper in the evening when her boys were asleep. The papers hinted at the conditions in France. She read of violent hand-to-hand fighting and frightful losses inflicted on the enemy. But for all the news she read, there wasn’t nearly enough information given to account for all the Canadian casualties listed each day. She knew a lot of what went on overseas was going unreported. Sometimes there were reports of battles involving Canadian troops, so she had an idea where Jim was. To reassure herself that Jim was uninjured and alive, she forced herself to search the daily lists of casualties and deaths.

  Every evening that she did not find his name on the casualty lists, she was reasonably sure that Jim was still alive, and hopefully unharmed. For now.

  PART THREE

  Chapter Forty-Two

  The Western Front

  A bitter wind, sharp as a razor, threw icy pellets against the shivering men. Jim drew his great coat closer to his chest when freezing rain drops slid down his helmet and down his back. He had only been in France for two weeks but was already immersed in an unimaginable hell. The glutinous trench mud had hardened slightly with the frost. Fluffy white snowflakes drifted down only to melt quickly in the muck. Jim and seven other men had arrived to replace those injured or killed in a recent offensive. The fields around them were littered with corpses and decomposing body parts; the dead left to decompose where they fell. Those still alive were forced to live like the rats that shared their accommodation in the dugouts. The soldiers ate, slept and defecated in the narrow trenches, open to the elements. The stench of putrefaction and human waste was only slightly alleviated by the colder weather.