The Second Battle of Ypres was over. It was not so full of danger to us as the first battle, but it will be ever memorable because, for the first time in the warfare of civilized men, a foul and deadly weapon had been used. You must have noticed, in reading these pages, how the Germans relied on machinery to overcome us. High-explosive shells and poison gas—these were the weapons which they believed would give them victory. During the Second Battle of Ypres the German infantry made few serious attacks, and when they did so they were almost destroyed to a man. Cannot you imagine the anguish of our brave fellows assailed by gas and shell fire and unable to reach their foes? Many of them, goaded to madness, stood up on their parapets and challenged the enemy to come on. Some of the Germans accepted the challenge; our men cheered, and then swept them to earth. It was the Second Battle of Ypres which taught us how inferior we were to the Germans in machinery, and our bitter experience had much to do with the formation of the National Government and the setting up of a Ministry of Munitions.
We lost ground in front of Ypres, and we lost tens of thousands of gallant men; but we had something to be proud of when the end came. We knew that our soldiers, man for man, were superior to the Germans, and we were specially proud of our Territorials—not only of the Canadians, but of the miners of South Wales and North England, the hinds and tradesmen of the Scottish Lowlands, the shepherds and gamekeepers of the Highlands, the clerks and tradesmen of our great cities. A few short months ago they had been working in the mine, the field, the factory, the shop, and the office, never dreaming that they would be called on to ply rifle and bayonet in a life-and-death struggle for all that they held dear. But in front of Ypres they bore themselves as though war had ever been their business, and they fought and died with a heroism that must never be forgotten. They went down into the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and some of them came out of it silent, weary, sick at heart; but no man of them felt his faith falter, and all were determined that never, while God gave them the strength to pull a trigger, should the foul foe prevail.
The beautiful little city of Ypres, famous as far back as the days of Chaucer, and adorned with old-time buildings that were the gift of the ages to the modern world, was now a heap of ruins. German guns had shattered it beyond repair. It resembled a city destroyed by an earthquake—a rubbish heap, with here and there a few gaping walls and shot-rent towers brooding over the desolation like gaunt skeletons. Never while our Empire endures—and God grant that it may be for aye—can Ypres and the blood-sodden meadows that lie eastward of the city be anything but holy ground to the British people. For ever the city and its neighbourhood will be sacred to the memory of our glorious British dead.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
HEROES OF THE YPRES SALIENT.
Seven Victoria Crosses were awarded for remarkable feats of courage and devotion during the great series of struggles known as the Second Battle of Ypres. You will not, I am sure, make the mistake of supposing that this little list comprises the names of all who wrought deeds of glorious valour during those days and nights of combat. Hundreds of men who received no mention proved themselves worthy of the honour, and many of those who were awarded less notable decorations fell no whit short of those who carried off the palm. According to custom, I shall now give you some account of those on whom the highest of all military honours was conferred.
Lance-Corporal Frederick Fisher, 13th Canadian Battalion.