When we were told that we wouldn’t be given any training be’ cause we were needed immediately on the Jarama Sector, we knew what we _were in for but we knew why we had come.

Over fhe Top

The morning of February 27th is cold. I Our trenches run through a vineyard. I don’°t think the grapes will grow any‘ more. We built our -dugouts at the foot of the olive trees. It seems funny this, dugouts near olive trees. The branches are used for camouflage-—the symbol of peace.

We are in the Abraham Lincoln Battalion. There are not

I enough Canadians to form our own battalion yet. But we’ve

got a marvelous name for it when we do form it. We thought of it this morning. The Fren'ch'Canadians and the other com» rades decided‘ that it was going to be Mackenzie*Papineau,' named after Louis Joseph Papineau and William Lyon Mackenzie. It makes you feel good to realize how fully the boys know why they are here.

This morning two of our trucks went into the fascist lines by mistake. They went down the road and there were no guards. I hate to think what happened to them. They didn’t even see the war.

We are going to attack. Look through one of the peepholes. No man°s land looks so empty, so cold and so strange. I took my rifle apart and cleaned it. Then the order to go over the top. Its a ‘funny sensation. Fear, strangeness, determination, some’ how every emotion mixed into one. Zero hour they call it. I think I know what they mean now. Once over the top you forget to be afraid. You fo-rget the pop of explosive bullets or that musical whistle as they pass over your head. You even find time to make wisecracks as you crawl along.

“Heck,” .I hear somebody say, “if they are not careful they”re going to hurt someone.” I saw Lenthier fall beside me. I_ heard the groans but you’ve got to forget about that.

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