Where poppies grow... Part 2

We went thru the Flanders Fields Museum in Ypres today; very interesting and what a beautiful city. I learned a ton about my great grandfather last night reading his old, unpublished letters. I wanna say a bit about him.
Funny thing is, his dad, my great great granddad lied about his age and enlisted in 1917...but wasn't close to his son...still don't know why he did this...
Walter Thomas Sandford moved with his father to Canada in 1913 from England. He was 18 when he joined the war the following year in the Canadian Forces. Get this: he was a Signalman for the whole war, and began in the 1st division, 2nd battallion. So not only was he among the first Canadians to see a battlefield, but his job was to crawl to the front of the line with a spool of wire on his back, and crawl back, so that the front lines could communicate with headquarters. He was basically open prey for snipers. And he did this THE WHOLE WAR, eventally being promoted to Sargeant. 5 years. Body and mind intact. There's basically no good reason why he didn't get killed. Ypres, Mons, and the famous Passchendaele. Mud, disease and death everywhere.
I think it's cute my Grandma still calls him "Pop" when she talks about him. We deciphered some letters last night. It's also important to remember this; being a signalman, he would send green envelopes back to HQ and write on the back of these forms. Being in a trusted position, they never read them nor did anyone censor them. The following accounts have not yet been published as my other family still owns the copyrights, but were written by Walter's hand.
5 days and 73 years before my birthday, he wrote of these accounts: (excerpts)

May 6, 1915, Ypres
"I was out mending wires the whole morning...a sniper watched for me to go along the wire...an officer and 14 men died in one spot. I don't know why he didn't get me...bullets worried me more than the shrapnel...I was about a mile from where the miserable swine were using it (gas) and I had a bad mouthful...it smells like petrol and is like a yellow fog...I hope the French will soon start using their stuff...200 of our fellows died here yesterday from its effects...we had very little sleep for the 16 miles...we marched 16 miles in the middle of the night because of aeroplanes. We only lost one, he was probably killed as he retired...we have proof the germans bayonetted the wounded as we were forced to leave them. You see that's what made our casualties so great...they even crucified one of our men on a barn door, stuck 2 bayonets in each hand...it wasn't a fight, it was murder."

He referred to a "coalbox", which you won't read of often; the germans would fill a vat with hot coals and catapault it over the line...

"Like a man possessed with the devil I ate less than a half loaf of bread and some sour milk in 36 hours. You can imagine the condition of the rest."

"We had a rotten time in the trenches, the walls of the dugout fell..."

What I found reading these letters was that he always tried to sound somewhat upbeat, optimistic and polite at the end. I guess when your only communication home is through muddy letters, you want to give good news.

At one point in the letters he mentions "I hope Grandpa is doing well..." He's referring to my Great-Great-Great-Grandfather! I'm freakin out!!!

I found the end of this letter to be utmost poetic and chilling, especially with no punctuation at the end. Written still sometime in 1915:

"Roll on the end of "la guerre" and let me get out of the rain. No such luck I guess well goodbye for a while.
I remain ever your affectionate nephew, Walt."

Walter would survive the First World War, receive the Mons Star and the Military Cross (which he threw in the ocean in protest), and enlisted in the Second World War in 1940 in the Navy and instructed young sailors; seems like there was conflict about the war, and then he went back. He even lied about his age to get in like his dad, because the Army would make him Major and put him in charge of POW camp...BOOORING...I guess he wanted a more fun job?

Still some things to be answered and details to fill in; going on a tour tomorrow of Fields and cemeteries.

More info to come. Thanks for reading.

I remain ever your affectionate friend, Brendan.