Published at the Hespeler, Ontario Plant of Dominion Woollens and Worsteds, Limited
– a special festive colour edition –
IN THE LETTER BOX
A56867 Pte. Greaves, H.
A Coy., Perth Regiment,
I am writing this from the hospital. No doubt you had heard I had been wounded the second time. I have been in the hospital almost two months, am feeling much better now, and getting along swell.
The last paper I received (September) was very interesting and brought back memories of places I had almost forgotten. A fellow often thinks about the things back home when he is in his slit trench and the shells are flying over head. We wish we were back there, but we keep on going, doing our part for a quick and final victory which we all hope is not far away.
Please give my regards to the Worsted Spinning Room staff, and I hope I’ll be back working at the mill again.
A17013 Pte. McLaughlin, K.,
A. Coy., No. 5 C.F.A.,
I have been receiving the “D. W. & W. News” quite regularly. The last one carried the picture of Ruth Richards coming out of a swan dive. I pasted her picture on the roof, or rather the ceiling of my tent, and the wolves were around as thick as wasps all afternoon. Can’t say I blame them. Where do you get all those masterpieces?
It was a coincidence that, shortly after reading Billie Cox’s letter in one issue, he should be brought into our dressing station. I hardly recognized him at first, but then they got some blood and dust washed off him he looked a little more like the chap I used to know.
Just now we are sitting in the middle of an immense field of grapes. Pretty nice eh? About a hundred feet away are three dead oxen and a smashed gun—not so nice. To make matters worse the wind is changing so I guess we will soon have to move.
From here I am watching a column of tanks winding up the road. Boy! Do they ever make a cloud of dust. Down in the valley there are a bunch of 25 pounders blasting away. It makes me think of what a chap I knew used to say, “It’s a grim issue, old boy, a grim issue.”
I must close as old Irish Davies, who claims to be our cook, is making threatening gestures to the effect that if we don’t come and get it soon it won’t be any good. I always maintain that it isn’t a helluva lot of good at the best of times, but I guess it’s matter of opinion. Well, whatever it is, I’d better go and get it.
On the whole, 1944 has been a good year for the Union. We have a sizable list of accomplishments to our credit. Our membership has increased. We are getting much better attendance at our meetings. We have our own paper which serves as an open forum for your opinions. And we are getting started on several other projects.
In the coming year we would like to see more of you come to the regular monthly meetings. It encourages the Stewards, and that helps, as they seldom get the credit they deserve for their efforts on behalf of the workers.
To everybody in the mill, the Union President, Stewards and Secretary combine in wishing you all a Merry Christmas.
Merry Christmas from Jean Nichol
H.Q. 11th Fd. Amb. (R.C.A.M.C.)
Canadian Army Overseas
I am glad to say I am keeping in the pink of health and am getting along fine. Since I wrote last I have come a long ways. I am writing to you from somewhere in Belgium. I like it very much and the people are very good to us. Things are going pretty good, and I hope it is not long before I am back with you all again. Many thanks for the papers and cigarettes which I have been receiving regularly. Also give my best regards to Gordon Klager and the Card Room staff.
A Merry Christmas
CHRISTMAS MESSAGE TO THE BOYS AND GIRLS IN THE ARMED FORCES
Outside on Queen street a light snow is falling. The night air is crisp and cold. A gentle haze hangs around the friendly coloured lights from the windows, and the happy laughter of children reaches our ears. Nearby we catch the strains of that grand old song, “the Miner’s Dream of Home.” Do you remember that first line? “I saw the old homestead and faces I loved.” Could any other tune be better for Christmas Eve to those away from home?
Perhaps you will read this in a slit trench close to the German border, where the silence is broken only by the roar of artillery. Perhaps you are in action on the Italian front, or stationed on a lonely airfield in Labrador or Newfoundland. Or you may be on a corvette or frigate, ploughing through the North Atlantic with supplies for the troops.
But, wherever you are, your “ain folk” at home and your friend at the mill are thinking of you. They hope you are safe. They know you are thinking about them even as they are thinking about you. They hope that next Christmas Eve will find you at your own fire-side, and the whole earth at peace.
So, to all you boys and girls away from home, all of us at the mill wish you a Merry Christmas, and a safe return to your loved ones in the friendly little town of Hespeler. The town about which we grumble the most and yet – like the best.
And A Happy and Victorious New Year
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