Chapter 22

February 1917

The interview at St. Omer was detailed but seemingly scattered. The RFC commissioner wanted to know how often I had been in battle, what sporting games I played, if I could balance on a jittery horse, and what other coordination skills I possessed. I thought back to the summer of 1910 when I stayed with friends down at Little Manitou Lake, who taught me to shoot game while mounted. The commissioner was intensely keen on the details of that venture.

And he continued: Did I have good eyesight, hold enough knowledge to recognize military units of all nationalities? Did I think I could interpret the significance of infantry developments when viewed from the air, and did I think I could apply my machine-gun training to a flying situation while traveling at eighty miles per hour? He questioned my education at both the Winnipeg School of Law Clerks and the University of Saskatchewan. He wanted to understand my motive for transferring from the infantry.

He was more thorough than I expected and ended the interview precipitously.

Meanwhile, I endured tedious Canadian Base Camp duties while clinging to the anticipation of transferring into the RFC. But warm quarters and routine hours afforded plenty of time for letter writing and catching up with Issy, Hardy, Minnie, and letters home. One unremarkable day was pierced with the excitement of a letter from Daisy Pitman.

Lieutenant Robert Pitman

Royal Canadian Regiment

C/O Canadian Base Camp

Le Havre

27 February, 1917

My Dearest Bob,

It is with my deepest sympathy and understanding that I am writing you about the situation between you and Cissy. She was hospitalized but is now near the end of her convalescence in London.

When I visited her, Cissy confided the circumstances. The medical board contacted her just before the New Year, and after an examination, determined she had venereal disease. While they did not disclose your personal particulars, she is sure that based on their questioning and the timing of their visit, you became infected.

The board stated they are convinced that her partner, you, was not infected prior to the intimacy. She accepts that and admitted to them that she had a dalliance in October past. Unfortunately, that soldier could not be reached. Cissy wants you to know that she is terribly sorry, and that if she had been at all aware of being infected, would not have put you in such a situation.

She feels the pain this has caused you, and that you are not inclined to have anything further to do with her. She wanted you to know she received your affectionate letter of 8 December and that she feels the same; however, she recognizes that it expresses your feelings prior to being aware of these current circumstances.

Bob, Cissy is my dear friend, and despite this angst, I’m so relieved she escaped that nasty Silvertown business. It’s a blessing that she was not at the Brunner Mond factory on January 19 when the TNT explosion occurred. While I feel deeply for the souls that died, I am thankful she was at that time hospitalized.

Before I sign off, let me say that I’ve known Cissy for most of my life and can say that her apology is sincere and truthful. In the event it matters, this has shaken her to the core. She wishes you well and desires that you remain safe.

Eric and I join together in expressing our love for you.

Daisy

Silvertown explosion? Workers dead? Of course, I had read a brief article in The Telegraph, but I was so wrapped up in my hospitalization it didn’t register. Oh yes, I too was very much relieved that Cissy was spared. It clearly resonated that this war was not confined to the battlefield but extended to the homeland. The hardships and risks that women were enduring in their factory work under zeppelin night attacks and in sourcing enough food to feed their families were a testimony to their contribution and their strength. How could our men in Parliament continue to deny women their equal rights?

Yet in the days and weeks that followed, my mind was harangued with a range of emotions. While I knew Cissy would be interviewed about the disease, I couldn’t have known when, and I had forced myself to avoid thinking about it. I wanted to understand and accept that it was all right that there had been others before me, at least one.

I was frustrated with wild, random thoughts. Was she telling the truth? Was she really sorry or just remorseful because she knew she was infected and got caught out? Did she really feel the same as I or just seek sympathy and understanding? How could she simply assume I wanted nothing more to do with her? Dammit all, did I?

Daisy vouched for her, and I respected Daisy. I read and reread the letter, holding it, clutching it, in an attempt to feel its sincerity. Did any of it really matter at this point?

Yes!

On discharge from the 39th, I had made a vow to follow up, to reach into her soul. Wasn’t this the opportunity to do just that? I knew just what I needed to do, and I would find an opportunity to do so.