know. We [went] to Number One Clearing Station. They’d make repairs

on him there, and then they’d go down further to the main hospital. That was...about one of the closest I had. I’d be in my early 30s. I

volunteered on my own. I didn’t have to be drafted or anything. They

weren’t going to call me a yellow—back.

In the Isles

We had five or six old soldiers...and Bill Dodds was one of them. Him and I was very thick. He’s an Old Country Irishman, but the devil was into him as big as a horse... He was a heller. He always used to say to me, “If you and I are living, Harry, when this show is over, you’ll come to Ireland with me.” And when the war was ended there was a strike amongst the longshoremen and you couldn’t get sailing to America. “Well,” I says to Bill the second morning, “here’s our chance now to go to Ireland.”

First place we went was into Belfast. He had two old sisters living in Belfast... . We came to this house and knocked and this woman opened the door... . Bill says, “Do you know me?” “My God,” she says, “not my brother Bill.” Bill says, “Yes. What’s left of me.” Well, by God, she grabbed him. I thought she was going to chew the damn ears off him. I says, “Girl, for Heaven’s sake, I wish you’d give me a little of that.” Well, we went in and the other sister came along and she shook too. She went to get one of these big water jugs...full of beer... . Bill was sitting in between the two sisters, and the corporal [we met there] and I were sitting on the couch... . We’d go to the table every few minutes and get a shot, you see. It was as good as a concert.

We spent, oh, about four days in Belfast. From there we went to Dublin. Well, that was a little worse in Dublin. At that time, you see, they were skirmishing, the same as they are now. They were fighting then for Home Rule. And they got it. Now they ’re fighting again. One Irishman will never take orders from another... .

We went from there to Glasgow and Aberdeen, Scotland. And we rode on the Flying Scotsman [train] a mile a minute. You wouldn’t know you were moving till you looked out the window, and then you seen how fast you were going by the telegraph poles. Not losing any time. We were in there for a few days. I put the suit of kilts on while I was in there.

We went back then because we were told to not be gone too long because we might be ordered to sail. Oh, me dear God, you’d get tired travelling. So much of it, you know, in these big cities. And just the roar of steam pipes

36 BELFAST PEOPLE