Currie doesn't really give anymore descriptions of tartan in his narrative that I can find, but he does bring kilts up here and there. For example, somewhere between getting off the ships at Plymouth, and getting to their camp at Salisbury Plains, he and his men have to make an eleven-mile nighttime march.

In spite of the darkness it was an ideal night for marching, neither too hot nor too cold. The men were standing up to the marching well. After about another quarter of an hour Sergeant Hermitage, my Orderly Room Sergeant, ran up from the rear to tell me to halt the column, as a man had slipped into a culvert and was stuck in the mud. In fishing him out the Sergeant had got stung with nettles. This made him hot. It did not mend matters when I suggested that his country was getting even with him for wearing kilts. However, we slowed up. This going was splendid practice as we would no doubt have plenty of night marching of this kind in Flanders. The men stood up to the march with their heavy loads splendidly, thanks to the excellent physical training they
had undergone on board ship. [...] (67-69)

This is difficult to put in context, but it is during the trench warfare in Flanders.

Shortly after eleven o'clock the artillery started in again. Most of the Canadian guns seemed to be firing at Aubers, and if there were any Germans in that town they must have suffered. For nearly an hour the bombardment of the third line continued. Then followed a longer interval of rifle fire and then the bombs; shouting and rifle fire died away shortly after one o'clock. At about half past one I could see khaki figures in kilts in the outskirts of Aubers. They seemed to be strolling around looking for something to do. When I went to the telephone I learned that the third and last line of the
German trenches had been taken and the battle had been won. [...] (170)