He was about to pass me. I stopped and asked him where he was going. His reply was, "Sir, I am going over to the right to get my entrenching tool. I left it in a funk hole this afternoon and came away and forgot it." He then saluted and smiled as he was doing so. Somehow or other I did not like the way he smiled. But I had no reason to doubt his words. Although it was strictly against orders to allow anyone to leave the fire step at "stand to," Wagner was personally known to me, so I let him go. My mind went back to the time I first met him, five years ago. We were both living at the same hotel in Montreal. Wagner was supposed to be an Englishman, and at that time he was a draughtsman in the employ of a large bridge company. It was said that he was one of the finest draughtsmen in Canada on bridge construction work, and he appeared to have a thorough knowledge of the whole of the country, as he had worked for various companies throughout Canada. Wagner mixed with the best of society in Montreal, but it was remarked that before the war his best friends appeared to be connected with the Hamburg-American Steamship Line. When war was declared he was the first man to disclaim any friendship existing between himself and anyone with a German name. No one appeared to hate the Germans more than he did, neither was there anyone more keen to enlist. But the medical examinations at the early stages of the war were so strict that he was rejected by the medical boards. Wagner and I were often seated together at the same table, and, as he had travelled extensively, he was a very interesting and entertaining man, so we became very friendly. Later on, when I received my commission he seemed to profess more friendship for me than ever before. His knowledge of military engineering and signalling interested me very much. He was also a clever linguist, speaking several languages fluently. Being on leave one week-end from camp, I went into the dining-room of my hotel in Montreal to take lunch; and who should I see but Wagner. He was seated at the table in the same old place. I noticed he was in uniform. As I entered the dining-room he rose from his seat. I told him to sit down. He then told me he had just been passed by the medical board, as the soldiers' standard had been lowered. He appeared to be very pleased at having got through, and he said he hoped that it would not be long until he would be with the boys "Over There."