Our enemy, as we have seen all through the war, has used these unscrupulous methods. We lost 60,000 out of 100,000 1st B. E. F. Over half our army was taken prisoners, killed and wounded. Out of my battalion there were twenty-eight survivors—I being one of them.
After Mons came the great battle of Ypres, in which our regiment took part. Things were nearly always very brisk in this sector of the line. I remember one particular night, my chum and I were out on listening posts when my chum thought he saw the enemy advancing. I looked and could not see them. He started making a row, and I warned him to be quiet, but he didn't heed me, when suddenly he went down mortally wounded. I dived to the ground, and in diving my hands came in contact with a man who had probably been dead some days. This was not an unusual occurrence. About Sept. 15th, when we were up at Ypres again, there was a party of us who went on a bombing raid one night. Nearly every night a bombing party went out into No Man's Land. At this particular time, however, we were returning from a bombing raid, perhaps without as much caution as usual, when a shell burst right among us, killing every man except myself and a chum, who was badly wounded. I, however, found I had escaped with but a few scratches, and taking along my chum who had a bad wound in the leg, managed, after much trouble, to return to our lines. My chum, not being able to walk, made it difficult for me. I had to carry him back, and to look out for "whizz-bangs," and avoid tumbling into shell-holes. The weather at this time of the year was very bad; raw and cold weather, up to our knees in mud and water, stuck in the trenches, day after day, and week after week. Such is trench life in winter time. But when springtime came again, then things started to "liven up." "Fritz" was at it again. Our battalion was up at Ypres salient, where a terrific artillery duel was being put up at the time. Shells were dropping all around, star shells illuminated the skies, and the word was passed around for getting ready to go "Over the Top."
It was dawn, and, the rum ration having been handed around, the order was given, and over we went. Some were just up and over and down they went. I remember our captain was one of the first to fall. His words as he fell were: "Carry on, boys, don't mind me," and the boys carried on. All I could see before me was blood. It seemed as if I had no other object in mind but to kill. Such were my feelings as we went over. We hadn't advanced above 300 yards when a bullet whizzed too close for my liking, and, turning my head, I saw my chum fall, and dozens of others, but our orders were "carry on," and get our objective. Next our first lieutenant fell and mustering us together, our remaining lieutenant, a mere youth of eighteen years, and a small handful of men, reached our position, not without severe loss of life. I remember one little incident. A German officer lying severely wounded, called in almost perfect English for a drink. One of the boys (probably a little more human than some of us) went to give him a drink out of his water bottle. Then the Prussian officer drew his revolver and shot this boy. Those who witnessed the incident, I being among them, made short work of the Prussian beast, but this incident goes to show the Prussians' hate of his enemy.
The Saxon troops are the most civilized of the bunch. An incident of just the opposite, I witnessed down at the Somme. A wounded German soldier called for water to drink and one of our Tommies kindheartedly went and gave it to him. They conversed for a minute or two. The German spoke in broken English. He said to the Tommy, as he undid his tunic and displayed a Salvation Army jersey, "I am a Salvationist," and the British Tommy replying said, "So am I." They shook hands and the German fell back dead. Never shall I forget the sights that I have seen in the trenches we took from the Boches. I remember one particular trench we took, we found a young girl about nineteen years of age, who had one of her eyes taken out, an ear cut off and her right breast severed. This was not an isolated case of the Boche's villainy. I personally witnessed, in villages in France and Belgium, the bodies of old men that had been crucified or slowly tortured to death. I have seen a little baby bayonetted to a doorpost and the bayonet left sticking in the body.
It was down at Loos that I was gassed. I have a recollection of the gas coming over and was unconscious for twenty-four hours, and had oxygen pumped into me. When I returned to consciousness I found myself in a hospital with a Red Cross nurse bending over me. Another sector of the line I was in was at Cambrai (after my recovery from the hospital). Here we caught it pretty rough. It was the time that British divisions were being drafted off to Italy that things were lively. Several battalions were being marched off to Italy, when "Fritz" broke through part of our line down south, and advanced in mass formation. Then we were ordered to retreat. It was some retreat! Guns were left, ammunition dumps not blown up, and we retreated about thirty miles. Our losses there were great. However, in small counter-attacks and skirmishes, which our battalion took part in, we captured quite a few prisoners. I was quite surprised to notice how young some of these German soldiers seemed—not more than seventeen years of age. In the early part of 1918 I was up in Ypres again where one night we had after severe fighting recaptured a few hundred yards, I was just standing around in the captured trenches, when a shell burst and a piece of shrapnel caught me. Down I went, to awake once more in a hospital, where the boys were all content and happy, in spite of wounds. So was I, especially when I heard I was for "Blighty" once again.
MY SERVICE IN FLANDERS
BY SERGT. ALEXANDER GIBB, NO. 444476, CO. A. 26TH BATT., N. B. REGT., CANADIAN INF.
IN THE month of October, 1914, the second Canadian Division was being formed. I being too young at that time, could not enlist, but in the month of February, 1915, I did enlist with the 55th Battalion. The commander of that battalion was Lieutenant Colonel Kirkpatrick. It was in the month of March of the same year that our regiment went into camp at Sussex, N. B. Every day of our life in camp was work, day and night, but of course our battalion found time for their sports; even if we did have to work very hard during the day.
In the beginning of June of that year there was a call came to our regiment for volunteers to go overseas, with the 26th Battalion, which is now known as the Famous Fighting 26th; at that time under command of Lieutenant Colonel McAvity, better known as "Colonel Jim." Of course I was eager to get over and do my bit. I was one of the many who volunteered. It was on the most unlucky day of that month, June 13, 1915, that the 26th sailed on the transport Caledonian for an unknown port in England. As the transport moved from the pier amid cheering crowds, the boys were happy and gay.