Source: Per record of promotion in the service records of Lance-Corporal William John Pruder, reg. no. 53277.
Family Search: When Sergeant Walter Glen Verity was born on 15 October 1896, in Middleport, Niagara, New York, United States, his father, Robert Verity, was 41 and his mother, Mary Cross, was 37. He married Nellie Marie McGraw on 22 May 1920, in New York, United States. They were the parents of at least 4 sons and 3 daughters. He immigrated to Niagara Falls, Niagara, New York, United States in 1919. He registered for military service in 1915. In 1911, his occupation is listed as harrison radiator plant in Lockport, Niagara, New York, United States. He died on 3 April 1993, in Lockport, Niagara, New York, United States, at the age of 96, and was buried in Glenwood Cemetery, Lockport, Niagara, New York, United States.
He claimed to have been born at Collingwood, Ontario, on 15 October 1893.
LOCKPORT LAD WRITES ABOUT BATTLEFIELDS
Sprinkling Can Is What Walter Verity Calls His Machine Gun.
LOCKPORT, June 16–(Special)– Walter Verity, 25 years old, son of Robert Verity, a stone cutter, of 31 Frost street, is with the British expedi-tionary force at Flanders, France, according to a letter just received by his friend, James H. Fitzgerald, of 500 Walnut street. The letter was dated May 13, 1916. The letter reads as fol-lows:
“Dear Friend–Your welcome card received and was glad to hear from you, for you can bet your life a letter from the good old U. S. A. is the best thing in the world to cheer a good Yankee up, for you know we are not always in the best humor after having our nice little home (our dug-out) blown to pieces by a coal box or having our dinner blown out of our hands. But the worst thing of all is to be carrying a gun (sure for cold) up to the trenches and having the jar shot out of your hand, spilling all the medicine and, believe me, it is no easy matter explain-ing where it went.
“We are having a little rest now after being in some big battles with Fritz, and, believe me, we sure gave him Hail Columbia. We let him know that we stood for no fooling in our battalion. The shells burst all around us–coal boxes, Jack Johnsons, sausages, whiz bangs, fortune tellers and almost every kind of shell known–but we gave them back some Jess Willards. Wood, rocks are about 1000 kinds of other shells and all the time I was raining coffin nails into them with my sprinkling can. That is what I call my little baby machine gun and she is some gun, too.
“The real fun comes in when you are on patrol. That is the time you hope to goodness that the moon sleeps and they run short of flare lights, but you are always between two fires.
“The bunch here are certainly a happy lot of fellows; always in good spirits and never down-hearted except when they fall into a shell-hole.
“How is everybody in Lockport? What kind of baseball teams have they there. I hope it won’t be long before I am in Lockport again. Well, I guess I will have to close. Remember me to all the boys.
The_Buffalo_News_1916_06_16_20.
History of the 18th Battalion CEF, "The Fighting Eighteenth" 