Canada in Flanders, Volume I

by Baron Max Aitken Beaverbrook

It was on April 25th that the position of the 5th Canadian Battalion on the Gravenstafel Ridge became untenable; but the men in the fire trench did not entertain any thought of retirement. The telephones between Headquarters and the trench were disabled, the wires having been cut again and again by the enemy's shell fire. General Currie saw the immediate need of sending a positive order to the Battalion to fall back, and Major Dyer and Captain Hilliam, both of the 5th Battalion, undertook to carry up the word to the fire trench. Each received a copy of the order, for nothing but a written order signed by their Brigade Commander would bring the men out. The two officers advanced with an interval of about twenty yards between them, for one or other of them had to get through. They were soon on the bald hill-top, where there were no trenches and no cover of any description. Machine gun and rifle fire swept the ground. They reached a little patch of mustard, and laughed to each other at the thought of using these frail plants as cover. Still unhit, they reached a region of shell holes, great and small. These holes pitted the ground, irregularly, some being only five yards apart, others ten or twelve; but to the officers, each hole in their line of advance meant a little haven of dead ground, and a brief breathing space. So they went forward, scrambling and dodging in and out of the pits. When within 100 yards of our trench, Captain Hilliam fell, shot through the side, and rolled into a ditch. Major Dyer went on, and was shot through the chest when within a few yards of the trench. He delivered the message, and what was left of the Battalion fell back. Men who went to the ditch to assist Captain Hilliam, found only a piece of board, on which the wounded officer had written with clay, "I have crawled home." It only remains to add that both these officers returned to duty with their Battalion after convalescence.

Though these two officers gave a very fine example of active courage, it would be hard to find a more remarkable illustration of passive endurance, nobly borne, than that afforded by Lieut. E. A. Whitehead on April 24th. On that day, Captain Victor Currie, with Lieut. Whitehead and Lieut. (now Captain) W. D. Adams, was holding a company of the 14th (Royal Montreal) Battalion, on the salient of which both flanks were exposed to a merciless fire. At 5 a.m. that morning, Lieut. Whitehead was shot in the foot, but he remained in command of his platoon with the bullet still in his ankle-bone until three o'clock in the afternoon, when he swooned from pain and fatigue. It is sad to record that Sergeant Arundel, who tried to lift Lieut. Whitehead from the trench, was shot and instantly killed.

On the previous day, the men of No. 2 Company of the same Battalion had assisted Major (now Lieut.-Colonel) W. B. M. King, of the Canadian Field Artillery, to perform one of the most astonishing and daring feats of the campaign. With superb audacity Major King kept his guns in an advanced position, where he deliberately awaited the approach of the Germans till they were within 200 yards. Then, after he had fired his guns into the massed ranks of the enemy, he succeeded, with the assistance of the infantry, in getting the guns away. It was during the course of this part of the action that Lance-Corporal Fred Fisher, of the 13th Battalion, won his V.C., but lost his life. Being in charge of a machine gun, he took it forward to cover the extrication of Major King's battery. All the four men of his gun crew were shot down, but he obtained the services of four men of the 14th Battalion, and continued to work his gun until the battery was clear.

No sooner were Major King's men in safety than Fisher pushed still further forward to reinforce our front line, but while getting his men into position in the face of a combined fire of shrapnel, machine earns, and rifles, he was shot dead.

And here, I would say, that over and above the pleasure it naturally gives a Canadian to record the splendid heroism of his fellow-countrymen, the occasion has provided me with the welcome opportunity of dissipating a delusion which at the outset prevailed in England as to the capacity of our officers. At the beginning of the war it was a common saying in the British Army—I have never been able to trace the saying to its source—that the Canadian troops were the finest in the world, but that they carried their officers as mascots.

Nothing could be further from the truth; and nothing more ridiculous, as the brilliant records of the war service of many of these officers amply proves. For ingenuity and daring in attack, for skill and resource in extricating their men from positions where disaster seemed inevitable, their ability as regimental officers has only been equalled in this war by the experienced officers of the first Expeditionary Force. As for bravery, for heroic devotion and self-sacrifice, to compile a full record of their incomparable deeds, would require a chapter many times the length of this whole volume. From generals down, they have shown the world that, for sheer valour, Canadian officers can proudly take their place beside any in the world, while they have afforded an example and inspiration to their men which have done much to make the splendid story of the Canadians in France and Flanders what it is.

But if the deeds of the commissioned officers have been splendid, the exploits of the non-commissioned officers and men have been not less so. The narrative of the Division consists of story after story of coolness in danger, incentive daring, and unflinching courage which has never been surpassed.

Take, for instance, the story of Sergeant J. Richardson, of the and Canadian Battalion. It is a tale of how shrewd common sense defeated the wiles of the enemy. On April 23rd Richardson was on the extreme left of our line in command of a half-platoon, when the words, "Lieutenant Scott orders you to surrender," were passed to him. He knew that there were three company commanders in the line between himself and Lieutenant Scott, and, therefore, correctly concluded that the order had nothing to do with any officer of his regiment, but was of German origin. He not only ignored the order, but discredited it with his men by passing back "No surrender!" It is impossible to say how much ground, and how many lives, the sergeant saved that day by his lively suspicion of German methods, his quick thought, and his absolute faith in the sense and courage of his officers. Sergeant Richardson belongs to Coburg, Ontario, and is a veteran of the South African War.

Of a different order of courage was Corporal H. Baker, of the 10th Battalion. After the attack on the Wood and the occupation of a part of the German trench by the 10th Canadian Battalion, on the night of April 22nd-23rd, Corporal Baker, with sixteen bomb-throwers, moved to the left along the German line, bombing the enemy out of the trench. The Germans checked Baker's advance with bombs and rifle fire and put nine of his men out of action during the night. The enemy then established a redoubt by digging a cross-trench. Corporal Baker and the six other survivors of his party maintained a position within ten yards of the redoubt throughout the remaining hours of the night. Early in the morning of the 23rd the Germans received a fresh supply of bombs and renewed their efforts to dislodge the little party of Canadians. They threw over Baker, who was closer in to their position than the others of his party, and killed his six companions. Alone among the dead, with the menace of death hemming him in, Baker collected bombs from the still shapes behind him, and threw them into the enemy's redoubt. He threw with coolness and accuracy, and slackened the German fire. He held his position within ten yards of the cross-trench all day and all night, and returned to his Battalion just before the dawn of the 24th, over the bodies of dead and wounded men who had fallen before the rain of bombs and rifle grenades.

And now we come to the story of two brothers, Privates N. and J. McIvor, who were stretcher-bearers, of whom much is expected as a matter of course. On April 24th, they were attached to the 5th Battalion (which held a position on the Gravenstafel Ridge), and carried Major Sanderman, of their battalion, from the bombarded cross-roads back to the dressing station over open fire-raked country. Major Sanderman had been hit by shrapnel, and died soon after reaching the dressing station. Four days later, on April 28th, when the 5th Battalion was in rear of the Yser Canal, the two McIvors volunteered to attempt a rescue of the wounded from the Battalion dressing station beyond Fortuin. They discovered the station to be in the enemy's hands, and J. McIvor was severely wounded.