Harry Heckbert speaks through his letters
Letters from Maritimers in First World War included in book ‘In Their Own Words’
There are no survivors left of the First World War but their letters speak for them.
Ross Hebb’s new book, In Their Own Words, contains the letters of three Maritimers writing home from the Great War. Here are some of the letters from Harry Heckbert, a fisherman from Summerside who was conscripted in the final year of the war.
Other Maritimes in the book are Eugene Atwood Poole, a front-line soldier from Paradise, Nova Scotia; and Pauline Douglas Balloch, a nurse from Centreville New Brunswick;
Harry Heckbert of Summerside, Prince Edward Island
Born: May 3, 1887 Birthplace: Summerside, Prince Edward Island
Parents: father: Rufus A. Heckbert; mother: Eliza J. (Johnson) Heckbert
Siblings: Ella, Fred, Lena, Bruce, Florence, William, Earl
Married: Iva Mae Currie, September 5, 1917 Conscripted: March 23, 1918 Unit: First Depot Battalion, Nova Scotia Reserve; (in France)
The Royal Canadian Regiment
May 6, 1918 Bramshott
Dearest Wife,
This is Monday night and I am up on top of a big hill trying to write.
I wrote four or five letters before but in case you do not get them I will keep them going. I am pretty well and we are having a fairly good time now but they drill us pretty hard. Well sweetheart, I hope you are well and not too lonesome but cheer up honey, your old man will be home sometime. Oh sweetheart, what a happy day for me when I can land in dear old Summerside. I don’t feel as bad as I did first.
How is dear little Gertie and all the rest? I hope your mother and grandmother are all well. Give my love to them all. Where are you staying now? I was just wondering if you were staying home or not. You must take good care of yourself sweet.
Are you going to plant any garden this summer? I suppose it won’t make much difference for father will look out for us anyway in that line. The time is five hours later here than it is on the Island and when you are getting your dinner we are getting supper here. I wrote some letters before and asked for a few dollars but I don’t know if you will get them or not. We don’t get any white bread here at all, but we do get lots of rabbit stew. I don’t know why they keep our money back, someone said they would give it to us when we went on our furlough, but I don’t know whether it is true or not. It is awful to be broke so far from home. All I got was one pound since I came here.
Oh sweetheart, I would have just died for one big hug tonight but I will have to wait til I get home. There is some pretty wild boys here but me, oh honey, I am so lonesome sometimes for you I don’t know what to do.
I will just have to grin and bear it for a while. I was on Church parade Sunday and the first hymn they sung was “Abide with Me.” It made me think so much of home I could hardly keep from crying, but I can’t act the baby now. I like it a little better than I did, but, oh sweetheart, when I think of you I get sick of the whole business.
All our letters are opened and I can’t say much about the trip we had over but when I get back I will have some story to tell. How are they all at home? How is Tony, is he in Summerside yet?
August, 1918 Bramshott Camp
Hello Sweetheart, Congratulations. I received two letters from you today with the good news, “OK” Oh sweetheart, how proud I am and how glad too that everything is alright. A little fisherman too, just think I told you what it would be, didn’t I? He must be pretty if he looks like the old man (ha, ha). I am so glad he has got my good nature. Oh hon, you can’t imagine how bug I feel now to be called daddy and you must give him a big kiss for me, won’t you? I hope you isn’t disappointed because it is a boy. You must get your pictures taken as soon as you can and send me one right off. You won’t be so lonesome now or at least I hope you won’t anyway, but I know dear you must be lonesome. I know I am.
I found a four-leafed clover last night, the first I saw in England. I just said to myself, everything is alright and this is good luck and it came true sooner than I expected. The old man must have gotten quite a surprise when your mother told him. I know dear he will be good to you and the baby. When I get my pay, I will buy a little broach with baby sheep on it and send it home. I saw some the other day.
I was out on a long march today and I’m pretty tired now. I didn’t fall out either, the good news cheered me up so much I forgot to fall out. I bet I will dream about him tonight. Some weight to him, I kind of thought he might be very small but if he weighed 8 pounds he is no toy. I hope you are well again by now and baby too, dear. I got a letter from Mr. Newsham today and when I get my pass I am going down to his place. It is about 200 miles from here. It won’t cost so much. When I get my pass, I am going to wire to old Gardener for money. I guess he will send it alright. Please don’t think I am extravagant over here dear, but it takes a lot of money to get along and I don’t waste it either. Oh hon, if I could just walk in tonight. What a meeting it would be. Well dear, I guess I will have to close for this time, so with two million kisses and all kinds of love I will say bye, bye dear.