THE CANADIAN SPIRIT
When the Canadian troops arrived at the Western Front Sir John French wrote of them, “The soldierly bearing and the steadiness with which the men stay in the ranks on a bleak, cold, and snowy day are most remarkable.” Other leaders spoke of their high spirits and love of fun; others again of their cleverness in finding out new ways of doing things, and, later, of tricking the enemy.
The men from overseas soon became comrades with the Britons from the Motherland. “The British Tommy,” wrote a young Canadian, “is splendid. He is alive to his fingertips. He is full of devices to deceive the enemy; he knows all kinds of tricks; he hasn’t a mean streak in him, and he’s a first-class fighting man. He uses his brains. It has been a revelation to me to find him as he really is.”
Briton and Canadian, therefore, were prepared to think the best of each other; and the feeling of brotherliness with which they began their stern work carried them shoulder to shoulder through many a terrible day and yet more terrible night.
The Canadians, after their custom, treated their officers in a free-and-easy manner which seemed at first somewhat strange to the ordinary British soldier. But when the time for duty came there was no difference between Canadian and British discipline. But there was always a standing dispute among Canadian officers and men in the heat of action as to who should go first into the stiffest part of the fight.
At one battle a Canadian captain was leading his men in single file through a dangerous place, when a non-commissioned officer stepped forward and said, “I beg your pardon, sir, but bomb-throwers always go first.” Then he ran on ahead before the officer could speak to order him to go back.
There are numberless stories of Canadian pluck and resource. In one engagement, Lieutenant Campbell, leading a small number of men, made his way into the front trench of the Germans, and passed along for some distance until he was held up by a barricade. They were under very heavy fire, and in a short time only two of the party were left, namely, the lieutenant and Private Vincent.
The two men, however, kept on fighting. They had a machine-gun, but it was useless because they had no tripod to stand it on. So Vincent stooped down and the officer strapped the gun upon his back. It was worked with its human tripod for some time, but at last a German bombing party entered the trench and Campbell was wounded to death. Vincent, however, succeeded in dragging the gun away to a place of safety.
Our men were, naturally enough, very anxious to prevent their guns from falling into the enemy’s hands and being used against themselves. A British gun, lost near Ypres, was afterwards recovered in a surprising manner.
One bright morning a German aeroplane was seen circling gracefully over the headquarters of a British division. Soon the shrapnel was bursting round it; but the airman flew too high to be hit, and he and his pilot seemed to the thousands of watchers to be thoroughly enjoying the risks of their morning flight.
Then a British machine appeared at some distance away, and it was not observed by the German airmen until it was close upon them. The enemy turned to escape but the sound of an aerial machine-gun soon told the watchers that the fight had begun. The German made a spirited reply, until his gun went wrong and his pilot was wounded. Then his machine fell rapidly to the ground and came to earth not far from the Montreal Battalion, while the British machine rose again to avoid the attentions of the German gunners.
The German airman was able to get clear of the wreckage of his machine and creeping to the Canadian trench gave himself up, saying that his pilot was dead. Our men were anxious to capture the machine but the German gunners were equally anxious to pound it to pieces. The Canadians, however, were able to gather the fragments of the wreck, and among them found the machine-gun which had been lost near Ypres some six months before.[3]
[3] The story is fully told, with many others of great interest, in Canada in Flanders, Part II., by Lord Beaverbrook. (Hodder and Stoughton.)
It was a French-Canadian officer, Major Roy, who performed one of the bravest deeds of the early part of the war in Flanders. A huge shell from a trench-mortar fell into a trench full of men. The gallant major picked it up to hurl it over the parapet, but his foot slipped and the shell exploded as he held it! There was little doubt that with men like these the Canadian spirit would carry the troops of the Dominion very far, as indeed it did, in the months of terror and glory which were to follow.
A young Canadian, Private Smith, was merrily singing a song during a bombing attack by some of his comrades when a mine exploded near him and he was almost completely buried in the falling earth. When he had dug himself out he found that he had lost his rifle and looked about to find some useful work.
He was soon made aware that the supply of bombs was running short, and the idea struck him that he might crawl round among the dead or wounded bomb-throwers and collect the bombs which they had not used.
Without wasting a moment, he moved carefully round on hands and knees and made his collection, hanging the bombs at various points on his own person. The missiles were duly delivered by the smiling “carrier,” to the great delight of his comrades who cheered him on in his very useful but risky work. He made five collections in all and safely delivered his precious burden to the men who were attacking the German trenches. His clothes and cap were riddled with bullets, but he was not hit, because, as he explained, he kept always “on the move.”
At last he could find no more bombs, and his company was forced to fall back before the terrible German fire. One of the bombing party was seen wounded, standing on the parapet of the German front-line trench. He had thrown every bomb he carried, and then weeping with rage at being unable to do more, he flung earth and stones at the enemy until the end came.
THE ADVENTURES OF THE KENT
The long and glorious history of the British Navy contains many a story of a fight against great odds. We think with pride of the little Revenge which fought fifty-three Spanish ships, and only gave in when its gallant captain Sir Richard Grenville was wounded to the death. And this story of the time of Queen Elizabeth is only one out of many in the records of our Navy.
Now it was a splendid and glorious thing for Sir Richard Grenville to fight so bravely. But it would have been a foolish and cruel thing if Queen Elizabeth had ordered him to fight single-handed against ten, or even five, Spanish ships.
In much the same way, it would be a splendid thing if two of our ships were to fight half a dozen Germans which had caught them unawares. But it would be very foolish of the rulers of our Navy to allow such a thing to happen if it could be helped. They must make as sure as they can that any group of our ships will not be outnumbered, or meet with an equal number of vessels of a newer type and carrying heavier guns.
Both these things happened off the coast of Chile in South America on November 1, 1914. On that day four German cruisers met three British cruisers and a battle took place. The German ships were of a newer type and carried much heavier guns than the British, so that the latter were “outclassed”; and though the British fought with great bravery against the heavy odds, two ships were lost.
A strong British squadron was at once got together and placed under the command of Admiral Doveton Sturdee. It was sent off in secret, and people at home knew nothing about it until news of victory came.
Turn to the map of South America and find out the group of islands known as the Falklands which lie off the south-east coast. These islands are part of the British Empire and at Port Stanley, the chief town, there is an important wireless station.
A message was sent from London to the governor of the Falklands to the effect that a German squadron was cruising near, and might, at any moment, make a raid upon the islands. The German ships, under Admiral von Spee, did indeed come to the Falklands intending to destroy the wireless station and take possession of the islands. But they found Admiral Sturdee awaiting them, and on December 8th the Battle of the Falklands was fought.
THE ENEMY CRUISER WAS ABOUT TO SINK.
Sturdee in the Invincible gave the signal,—“God save the King.” The firing began shortly after noon at a range of about nine miles. When night had fallen four of the five German ships lay at the bottom of the ocean, and two thousand of the enemy had died in doing their duty. The other enemy warship, the Dresden, made her escape. The loss on the British side was only eight men.
In connection with this battle the story of the cruiser Kent is worth preserving, while one of the stokers won the praise and reward of his leaders for a deed of coolness and bravery. The Kent was ordered to chase and engage one of the German cruisers and set out on the trail. But before long she found herself running short of fuel.
This fact was reported to the captain and though it was a very serious matter he was not put out. “Very well then,” he said, “have a go at the boats.” The word was passed along, and some of the men unslung the boats and broke them up with hatchets and crowbars. Then the pieces were thickly smeared with oil and carried below to the stokers whose stock of coal was now almost at an end. Soon the ship’s boats were blazing in the furnaces and the Kent raced along.
But this was not enough. Still more fuel was needed, and officers and men cast their eyes around in search of something more that would burn. Some one pointed to the wooden ladders; and in a few moments they had been taken down and sent below to the stokers.
Other men wrenched off the doors of cabins and ward-rooms. Young officers ran laughing to their cabins, and brought out chairs, tables, chests of drawers, and other pieces of furniture. These were quickly passed below. The stokers worked with a will and by and by a hearty cheer told them that the German was being overhauled.
Then the guns began to speak and after a brisk exchange the enemy cruiser was seen to be on fire and about to sink. She hauled down her colours, whereupon the Kent ceased firing and closed in to save life if possible. But the German ship heeled over and went down like a stone, only twelve men being rescued by the British.
While these exciting things were happening Sergeant Mayes showed coolness and bravery which saved the lives of many of his comrades and probably saved his ship. A shell burst and set fire to some powder charges in the bomb-proof shelter. A flash of flame went down the hoist into the passage leading to the place where the shells were kept. Sergeant Mayes picked up a charge of powder and threw it into the sea.
He then got hold of a fire-hose and flooded the shelter, in this way putting out the fire in some empty shell bags which were burning. These things were done in a few seconds, but they were indeed fateful moments; for the firing of the magazine was the cause of the loss of more than one gallant vessel during the Great War.