The Montreal train was crowded and conversation centered on the one topic, War; the English Navy's ability to maintain her rule of the seas, and what would Canada do. A young Austrian reservist two seats away was telling some people in a loud voice how much he wanted to get into it. He was going back to answer the call. And I had already begun to hear my country's call.
A newsboy boarding the train at a junction was overwhelmed and succeeded in getting twenty-five cents a copy for his papers.
Montreal teemed with suppressed anxiety and every hour fresh news was posted. Special bulletin boards were put up on store fronts. Already men in uniform were seen in the street. And men were trying to enlist.
The war fever was rising steadily; the chief occupation of Canadians in those days was watching the bulletin boards. Rumors of sea fights, ultimatums, disasters, and victories were common. The Kaiser seemed to declare war on the world at the rate of three countries a day.
On the night of August 4th, as I was putting the finishing touches on a cartoon, a friend burst into the room:--"Come out of here! Something must happen any minute now." We marched downtown,--everybody marched in those days; walking was abolished in its favor. One met demonstrations everywhere, large crowds of cheering men with flags, victrolas at shop windows played patriotic airs, and soldiers with civilians crowded before the bulletin boards singing the national anthems with great enthusiasm. The King had declared war and his message to the fleet had just been put up! Newspaper extras were given away by thousands and movies of the British Navy were shown on the street. Any one who thought the British could not enthuse, changed his mind then.
The audiences at the theatres and moving picture houses on receipt of the news rose simultaneously and sang the national anthems, then cheered themselves hoarse. These were the first days of the war. Several battalions of militia were called out and posted to protect the bridges and grain elevators. Battalions were raised overnight, and so many recruits came forward that men were refused by the score. England was immediately offered ten battalions. Then an army division was possible. The Militia Department suddenly became a hive of industry. Men with all kinds of business capacity tendered their services gratis, and the Canadian war machine, without the experience of previous campaigns, took shape. They worked night and day bringing everlasting credit on themselves. Banks offered full pay to their employees in uniform, and this example was widely followed. The principle prompting this action being, "It's our country; if we can't fight ourselves, we will help others to fight for her."