1915-04-05ts

On Saturday afternoon, April 3, 1915, a Hamilton postman jaunted up the steps of 119 Florence street to deliver two letters to the occupant, Mrs. W. R. Feast.  Private James Turnbull, was not her son, but he spent so much time at her home, it seemed like he was. James was part of the Canadian fighting forces on the front in Western Europe.

One of the letters was from her son, it was a brief, but cheery note :

“Dear Ma:

 “ I received your letter, and almost three or four others, but have not had time to answer, and moreover I cannot write here as often as I used to. Just tell the girls, I am writing them from the trenches, but the trenches here are not like the trenches I wrote about last winter. They are as comfortable as can be, and more than I expected. You want to know why I went away and that you miss me so much. Well, how was I to know? I guess I have found out quite a bit by coming, eh?

“Well, I guess that will be all for this time, so goodbye.

“Private James Turnbull”

The second letter received by Mrs. Feast that Saturday afternoon had been written the day following the other note.

It read:

“My dear Madam:

“It is with the greatest sorrow I write to inform you of the death of Pte. James Turnbull. The lad was shot through the heart on the morning of the 12^th inst. Nature was good to him, as he suffered no pain during the short time he lived after being shot.

“He was a great favorite with the men and was full of spirit during the whole time he was here. His personal affects will be sent to his next of kin through headquarters’ staff. His body lies in the Canadian burial plot on the Rue Petillon, almost in front of the village of Cin Blauch, France.

“The very fact that the boy died in the defense of civilization and his mother country will be a great solace for your sorrow.

“If you require any further information, please do not hesitate to ask for it.

“I am your obedient servant,

“Capt. Frank Morrison.”