“Proximity of Zeppelins, Hospitals, Red Cross Trains, Wounded Canadians and Funerals of Fallen Heroes Make It as Difficult to Forget the War as to Forget Life Itself” by Beatrice S. Nasmyth, The Daily Province, Vancouver, BC, Saturday, 4 September 1915, page 14.
London, Aug. 29 —“Just to prove it can be done,” said I to myself yesterday, “I am going to forget for a whole day that there is such a thing as a war. I’ll buy no papers, read no posters, talk only about the weather and the flower show, think only about the happy side of life.”
A beautiful thought with which to sally forth on a bright morning. So I wended my way towards Victoria street thinking how blue was the sky and distaining to analyze the numerous unheavenly odors that greeted me from the street stalls opening up for the day’s business.
It requires concentration, of course,” I reminded myself, struck suddenly by the smell of decaying fish, “but one can always rise above sordid circumstances.” And as I looked up with this thought like a serene refutation there floated across my vision of sky a big black dirigible, very high up and pointing westward. Everybody else on the street was “looking up” too, many anxiously, and I heard the word “Zeppelin” on several lips and on others the ridiculing laugh. But not to be inveigled into thinking of war by this monster warscout I lowered my eyes battling against curiosity, although aircraft are a frequent enough sight here and hastened around the corner.