Frank
described himself as a ‘soldier and clerk’ when he joined the Princess Patricia’s
Regiment at the outbreak of war. He was known as the “poet of the Pats.”
Frank was
among the first of the Canadians to come to Britain in WW1. His unit was initially stationed on Salisbury
Plain, where he spent some time in hospital when he became ill. Frank was an accomplished pianist and sang as
a baritone. He was also a good horseman
and an expert shot. After his recovery,
Frank was posted to the Western Front where he served with the rank of
Sergeant. He was killed at St. Eloi on
3rd February 1915. and is remembered on the Menin Gate Memorial, Menenstraat, 8900 Ypres, Belgium - Panel 10.
Frank had
poems published in the “Ottawa Citizen” newspaper and his WW1 Collection “Contingent Ditties and Other
Soldier Songs of the Great War“, edited by Holbrook Jackson, was published by
Sampson Low, Marston & Co. Ltd., London, in 1915. The collection is available as a free
down-load here: https://archive.org/stream/contingentdittie00brow/contingentdittie00brow_djvu.txt
Source: “Contingent
Ditties and Other Soldier Songs of the Great War” (Sampson Low, Marston & Co.
Ltd., London, 1915)
“THE
P.P.C.L.T. (Princess Pat's)”
The trumpet
sounded loud o'er hill and plain :
To Arms ! To
Arms ! Our Empire is at war !
Come, join
your colours, on the land or main.
All Britons
who have served the King before.
And in the
mountain mine; by prairie plow,
They
answered to the trumpet's brazen voice :
They, who
had served the Empire long enow
As soldiers
by profession and from choice.
No
conscripts, these, in whose unwilling hands
Weapons are
thrust, to wage unwilling strife.
But —
freemen all, who needed not commands
To volunteer
their service, limb and life.
Thus rose a
regiment, as 'neath a wand.
Of seasoned
men, with medalled service too :
Soldiers
from every corps throughout the land —
Britons
beyond the seas; tried men and true.
This is
indeed a princely gift to give
To our
Imperial Realm in crisis sore —
Proud in the
nation of the sturdy men,
And prouder
yet of him who raised the Corps.
Then go, ye
able sons of Britain's soil,
To take your
place, wherever it may be ;
God speed
you in the glory — and the toil.
Princess
Patricia's Canadian Infantry.
“THE CONVOY”
The sunny
rose of autumn's smoky day
Had almost
fled. The chill was in the air,
When issued
forth from Gaspe's smiling bay
A grand
Armada, 'neath a cruiser's care.
A great and
grand flotilla, speeding forth
Beneath the
oily pall of clinging smoke —
A gift to
Motherland, of priceless worth —
Th'
Atlantic's lazy swells to life awoke.
Thrice ten
and two great modern Argosies,
That hurried
to the Field the best of youth
To bear
their country's colours o'er the seas,
And herald
Canada to national growth.
Great sons
of sires whose willing blood has given
To our New
World the sterling of the Old ;
Most worthy
volunteers are these, undriven
To take up arms
; freemen, but strong and bold.
Beneath the
watching escort's wakeful eyes
The fleet
pulsed on. The ocean's lazy roll
Bore three
long straggling lines, 'neath low'ring skies,
Spread as a
flock of geese cleave toward their goal.
Thrice ten
and two great, sullen merchantmen,
As, sullen
in their cloaks of drab and black,
They
freighted over thrice ten thousand souls.
How many of
these same pay they bring back ?
The days roll
by. The ocean slowly yields Its bosom to the squadron's steady pace,
Until the cliffs
of England rise to greet
The scions
of her colonizing race
Come home —
to give their all. Come home - to fight.
Come home— though
born of that far Western land,
Where
Britain's shield is 'stablished for the right,
They
volunteered to lend an armed hand.
Oh 1
Plymouth, Cradle of the mighty Drake ;
The haven of
his vessel's hopes and fears ;
Yet have you
ever seen so fine a sight?
Or have you
waked to such a crest of cheers
As roars
aboard the transports, on whose decks
Are packed
the khaki hosts ? Has e'er a day
Such wealth
of loyal blood, such willing hands
Brought to
your shores ?
All England
answers, " Nay."
