"The Red Watch": With the First Canadian Division in Flanders
by John Allister Currie · English · Gutenberg #28116 · 570,558 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: "The Red Watch": With the First Canadian Division in Flanders
Author: John Allister Currie
Release date: February 18, 2009 [eBook #28116]
Language: English
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* * * * *
"THE RED WATCH"
WITH THE FIRST CANADIAN
DIVISION IN FLANDERS
[Illustration: J.A. Currie]
"THE RED WATCH"
WITH THE FIRST CANADIAN
DIVISION IN FLANDERS
BY
COLONEL J.A. CURRIE, M.P.
[Illustration]
LONDON:
CONSTABLE AND COMPANY, LTD.
1916
COPYRIGHT, CANADA, 1916
By McCLELLAND, GOODCHILD & STEWART, LIMITED
TORONTO.
PRINTED IN CANADA.
DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY
OF THE CANADIAN SOLDIERS
WHO FELL IN FLANDERS
These for the Empire stood in war array,
Barring the Hun invader on his way;
Into the battle rushed at Duty's call,
Resolved to hold their trenches or to fall;
That Britons ne'er to tyrants bend the knee
But live as they were born, unyoked and free.
Now, in the bosom of a distant land
These warriors sleep, for such is God's command.
The Fates in all decree, and have their will,
And mortals must their destiny fulfill.
J.A. CURRIE, M.P.,
_Colonel_.
CONTENTS
PAGE
Preface 9
CHAPTER I
Kilties in Canada 11
CHAPTER II
"The Red Watch" or 48th Highlanders 18
CHAPTER III
The Newer Colonial Policy 22
CHAPTER IV
The Call to Arms 28
CHAPTER V
Organizing Imperial Battalions 37
CHAPTER VI
The New Armada 46
CHAPTER VII
Salisbury and the Stones of Stonehenge 63
CHAPTER VIII
Under Field Marshal Earl Roberts 72
CHAPTER IX
Moulding an Army 81
CHAPTER X
His Majesty the King, and Field Marshal the Right
Hon. Viscount Kitchener 90
CHAPTER XI
Off for France 100
CHAPTER XII
Somewhere in Flanders 112
CHAPTER XIII
With Field Marshal Sir John French 116
CHAPTER XIV
Under Hiex Shells 122
CHAPTER XV
The Flare-lit Trenches of Fromelles 132
CHAPTER XVI
With General Sir Douglas Haig 146
CHAPTER XVII
The Battle of Neuve Chapelle 155
CHAPTER XVIII
Billets and Bivouacs 174
CHAPTER XIX
With General Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien 182
CHAPTER XX
The Historic Salient at Ypres 189
CHAPTER XXI
The Red Cock Crows 197
CHAPTER XXII
German Gas and Turcos 204
CHAPTER XXIII
The Battle of St. Julien 216
CHAPTER XXIV
Hanging on 228
CHAPTER XXV
All that was Left of Them 245
CHAPTER XXVI
Digging in with General Snow 257
CHAPTER XXVII
Twelve Glorious Days 267
CHAPTER XXVIII
Winning Another Championship 275
CHAPTER XXIX
An Appreciation of Valor 281
CHAPTER XXX
Wanted, More and More of Them 286
Index 289
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
Col. John A. Currie Frontispiece
Capt. R. Clifford Darling, Adjutant 24
Officers of the 48th Highlanders 40
Group of Non-Commissioned Officers, 48th Highlanders 56
Aboard Ship in Winter Garb 72
Our Pullman Coach 88
48th Highlanders at Church Service near Messines 104
Church Steeple where V.C. was Won 120
Signallers in Flanders 136
The Trenches in Winter 152
First Aid in the Trenches 168
Trenches at Neuve Chapelle 184
Map of the Original Salient at Ypres 194
The Famous Road to Ypres 200
Map of the Break in the Salient 206
Sniping Through a Port Hole 216
A narrow Escape 232
Map of the Salient Flattened 248
The Muster of the 48th Highlanders after the Battle of
St. Julien 264
PREFACE
The kind reception given to the rough notes from the Author's Diary,
which appeared first in the daily papers in Canada, encouraged the
production of this book. These notes, in order to make them more
readable, have been put in narrative form. There is no pretence that
this is a history of the war. It is only a string of pen pictures
describing life and incidents of the campaign common to almost every
corps in the field.
Where anything is omitted it must be borne in mind that the author
cannot give any information of a military character which might assist
the enemy while the war is in progress.
Opinions and observations on military matters are omitted. Discussions
on the merits of the various arms, equipments, rifles, work of the
staff, errors, omissions and criticisms of the manner in which the war
is conducted, must wait for a future volume.
It is hoped that this publication will encourage all young men to
"take their places in the ranks" and bear arms for the King and
Empire, regardless of whether our military system be volunteering,
conscription or National service.
It is more evident every day that there is need for the mobilization
and consolidation of all the resources of the Empire. Consolidated and
mobilized the Empire is self-sustaining and invincible. Its military
and financial powers would be quadrupled. There is nothing to justify
any delay in accomplishing this object except political expediency.
In union there would be not only immediate strength, but confidence
and harmony.
The world is just as full of brave deeds and stirring events as ever.
The British Empire is yet a lump of clay unfashioned and formless on
the wheel of the potter. That is the colonial view. It is for us to
help "Mould it nearer to our heart's desire."
It is a great privilege to live in this age when such glorious deeds
are being performed and history is being written. It is better still
to be permitted to die, doing brave deeds, that our Empire may live,
greater, freer and happier than ever.
TORONTO, OCTOBER 2ND, 1916.
CHAPTER I
KILTIES IN CANADA.
With this book as with many others the first chapter should be read
last. The reason it is placed first is that the chronological order
must be maintained. Besides, when stirring deeds by brave men are
recalled, it matters not how briefly, they demand better treatment
than being embalmed in an appendix.
This chapter deals with the first appearance of the Highland soldier
in Canada. That appearance was both interesting and tragic. The
stories and legends surrounding the campaigns of these brave men have
furnished many themes for the poet and novelist. This chapter can only
briefly refer to them.
If you search the great plains and rugged mountains of Canada from end
to end, you will find many beautiful plants and flowers, but not a
single spray of heather. Only in one spot in the whole vast Dominion
will you find the plant that is so characteristically Scottish,
growing naturally, and that is in Point Pleasant Park, Halifax.
Tradition has it that on this spot, in 1757, the soldiers of the
"Black Watch," the 42nd Highlanders, first set foot on Canadian soil.
Here in this park, one of the most beautiful in America, the visitor
is shown a plot of Scottish heather, flourishing vigorously in spite
of souvenir hunters and vandals.
The Black Watch arrived at Halifax in the spring of 1757 to take part
in the expedition against Louisburg, under General Abercrombie. Some
say that the men of the Regiment, desirous of perpetuating the badge
of so many of their clansmen, planted the heather seed where it now
grows. Others, that the palliasses or mattresses of the soldiers were
emptied here after the voyage, and the heather with which they had
been filled in Scotland provided the seed from which this plot grew.
It matters very little how it came. The heather still flourishes on
the spot where the Black Watch first pitched its tent in Canada.
The expedition against Louisburg was abandoned, but the following year
the regiment took part in the operations against the French under
Montcalm at Lake George. Visitors there are shown the ruins of the
ramparts of Ticonderoga. Around these ruins cling many legends and
stories, but the name of Ticonderoga will live forever in the weird
tale immortalized by Sir Thomas Dick Lauder, Parkman and the poem of
Robert Louis Stevenson. It is told how on the eve of the battle there
appeared to Duncan Campbell, of Inverawe, Major of the Black Watch,
the wraith of a relative, murdered by a man to whom Campbell had
granted sanctuary. This wraith had years previously appeared to him
and warned him that he would meet him at "Ticonderoga." The following
day Major Campbell died at the head of the assaulting columns of the
Black Watch, and that brave regiment lost 655 officers and men, nearly
equalling the losses of the "Red Watch," the 48th Highlanders of
Canada, at the Battle of St. Julian in Flanders, when their roll
showed 691 casualties.
The charge of the Black Watch at Ticonderoga was one of the bravest
exploits of British arms. The gallant Highlanders advanced against the
log redoubts and abattis of the French under Montcalm, hacking at the
branches with their broadswords, climbing the ramparts with the
assistance of their comrades, only to be hurled back, torn and
bleeding, with the grape shot from hidden guns and musket-fire from
many loopholes. They assaulted again and again, and finally had to be
withdrawn.
For their gallant conduct at Ticonderoga the "Black Watch" were made a
"Royal" regiment by the King.
The Black Watch was quartered for many years afterwards in Canada and
quite a few of the descendants of these old warriors helped to make
history for the Canadians in this latest and "Greatest War."
The second appearance of the armed Highlander in Canada was
characteristically dramatic. They came in the persons of Fraser's
Highlanders, hard on the heels of the gallant Black Watch. This
regiment, known as the old 78th, was celebrated in many ways. This is
the corps raised by Lord Lovat, that Pitt was said to have had in mind
when in the British House of Commons he delivered the famous panegyric
on the Highland troops.
This regiment distinguished itself first at the taking of Louisburg.
It was the first to climb the Heights of Abraham and its fame has come
down through history with that of Wolfe's victory at Quebec. The
fierce charge of this regiment at Quebec which broke through the
French line as if it were paper, is accounted for by the story that
the Highlanders were rendered frantic by the fall of Wolfe whom they
idolized, as the young staff officer who, on the day after Culloden,
dared the anger of his Commander by refusing to pistol a wounded
Highlander. A Canadian poet, Mr. Duncan Anderson, in describing the
Battle of the Plains of Abraham, refers to the Frasers thus:
"And the shrill pipe its coronach that wailed,
On dark Culloden moor, o'er trampled dead,
Now sounds the 'Onset' that each clansman knows,
Still leads the foremost rank where noblest blood is shed."
While Fraser's regiment were in garrison in Quebec, an incident
occurred that was later on duplicated in Flanders. Owing to the
inclement weather in Quebec, some of the officers in authority decided
that the men should discard their kilts and don trousers. The officers
and men of the regiment would not hear of it, and the historian of the
regiment says that the kilt was retained winter and summer and that
"in the course of six years the doctors learned that in the coldest
of winters the men clad in the Highland garb were more healthy than
those regiments that wore breeches and warm clothing."
In the trenches at Neuve Chapelle an agitation arose to give the
kilted Canadian soldier in the trenches trousers. With the snow on the
ground and half an inch of ice on the water pails in the morning, they
would not hear of anything but the kilt. Their health was similarly
good, colds being unknown.
Along with Fraser's regiment there came also the Montgomery
Highlanders, the 77th, raised by Hon. Arch. Montgomery, son of the
Earl of Eglington. This regiment took its full share of the operations
against the French at Fort DuQuesne and elsewhere.
Romantic interest clings around the memories of the Montgomery
Highlanders. This regiment was known as the "Lost Regiment." The
legend says that one of its gallant leaders, Major Charteris, fell in
love with a young woman of his native parish of Perth before he went
to the War. She promised to wait till he returned when he would have
carved a name for himself with his good broadsword, which was his only
fortune. Whilst his regiment was in America his letters failed to
reach her, and finally the troop ship on which Charteris sailed for
home was driven ashore and his regiment took eight months to make the
voyage. All hands were given up as lost, and Major Charteris'
sweetheart consented to marry another officer, a "slacker" who had not
gone to the war. While the wedding bells were ringing, the regiment
marched into Perth, but half an hour too late. Charteris returned to
America and died the death of a soldier. His name is still perpetuated
in that of a town in Illinois, Ft. Charteris.
The first Highland Regiment to be enlisted in Canada was the Royal
Highland Emigrants, still known in the army list as the 84th. No
regiment ever embodied in the British service deserves kindlier
remembrance in Canada than this gallant corps. The name and number
has been perpetuated in the British Army List. Its exploits will never
be forgotten and should be cherished by all Canadians. This regiment
was enlisted in 1775 when the Revolutionary War broke out, from the
Highlanders of Fraser's, Montgomery's and the Black Watch regiments
that had settled in America.
When the Revolutionary War broke out Lieut.-Col. Allan McLean, of
Torlousk, and Capt. John Small of Strathardle, in Athole, proceeded to
embody the members of the Highland regiments that had settled in
America. These old Highlanders rallied to the colors of the new
battalions, two in number, and they served with great distinction
throughout the revolutionary period. McLean raised one battalion in
the States among the loyal Highlanders of Virginia and the Carolinas.
He was assisted by Capt. McLeod, a former officer in Fraser's
regiment. Through many perils and devious routes the men who enlisted
found their way to the battalion rendezvous, and when they had all
gathered they marched to Quebec, and virtually took charge of the
stirring defence of that famous fortress against the American army
under Montgomery and Arnold. Throughout the siege, the order and
gallantry of the Highlanders animated the garrison and it was before
the muskets of the Royal Highland Emigrants that Montgomery fell at
the barrier beneath the citadel.
No greater service was ever given to the British Crown than that given
at Quebec by the Royal Highland Emigrants, during the second siege.
Their undaunted conduct stirred to emulation the brave French-Canadians
who mustered to assist the British, and by their joint efforts the
American invasion and siege came to an end.
The second battalion served in Nova Scotia during the war. Five of the
companies accompanied Lord Cornwallis in his operations in New York
and the Southern coast States. Later the two battalions were formed
into the 84th Regiment, Sir Henry Clinton being appointed
Colonel-in-Chief.
History repeats itself and the descendants of the gallant Royal
Highland Emigrants, more than a hundred years later, in the ranks of
the "Red Watch," or 48th Highlanders of Canada, fought side by side in
the same brigade in Flanders with the gallant Royal Montreal Regiment,
composed largely of French-Canadians.
When the Royal Emigrants were disbanded in Canada after the war, the
men returned to their farms. Colonel McLean's battalion settled
chiefly in Ontario. Many of their descendants still live on their
original homesteads and have filled honourable positions in the public
and private life of their country. The members of Small's battalion
settled in Nova Scotia, and their descendants were in evidence when a
Highland corps was organized by Lieut.-Col. Struan Robertson of
Pictou, to take part in the "Greatest War."
During the War of 1812, a regiment was raised amongst the Highlanders
of the County of Glengarry, Ontario, known as the Glengarry Fencibles.
Descendants of these soldiers were amongst the first to offer their
services for Flanders in 1914. One gallant officer of the 48th,
Captain Archibald McGregor, who gave his life at the Battle of St.
Julien, was a descendant of these men of Glengarry.
The Glengarry Fencibles fought amongst the foremost at the Battle of
Lundy's Lane alongside the 100th Prince of Wales Regiment, which at
that period was uniformed in kilts.
Many distinguished highland regiments served in Canada during the
nineteenth century. Amongst those that are still held in kindly
remembrance are the following: The Highland Light Infantry, the 73rd,
74th, 78th, 79th and 93rd. Many of the officers and men of these
regiments bought out in Canada or else settled in the country at the
end of their period of service.
Thus it will be seen that the kilted soldiers have played a prominent
part in the pioneer life and settlement of Canada, where men of
Scottish blood have always found a congenial home. The highest offices
in the gift of the people have gone to the men of Scottish origin
like Sir John Macdonald, Alexander Mackenzie, George Brown and Sir
Oliver Mowat, whose genius for organization and government made
possible Confederation. In the financial and industrial life of the
country the names of Lord Strathcona, Sir James Drummond and many
other Scots will always be cherished.
It matters not whether the Scottish lad comes from the "dim shieling"
or the ancestral castle, when he reaches the shores of Canada he finds
the Field Marshal's baton in his pocket, and he can be a leader in
whatever sphere of life he chooses.
CHAPTER II
THE "RED WATCH" OR 48TH HIGHLANDERS
It was while doing duty in Scotland, shortly after the Jacobite
rising, that the 42nd Highlanders came to be called the "Black Watch."
The sombre color of their kilts and the work in which they were
engaged combined to give them this nickname, which has clung to this
famous regiment ever since. The 48th Highlanders of Canada wore a
sombre tartan like the "Black Watch," interwoven with a broad red
check, and it was whilst doing duty as patrol over a steel plant at
Sault Ste. Marie that some striking Scotchmen first called the
Canadian Regiment the "Red Watch." The name has been accepted and
alternates with the "48th" in describing this corps. The brave
Seaforths have a light grey check in their tartans, the gay Gordons a
brilliant golden check, but the 48th have this check in red, and when
the kilts are properly made the stripe comes on the fold of the tartan
and gives a peculiar shimmering effect to the swaying kilts while the
men are on the march. The nickname of the "Red Watch" is not as well
known as that of the "Black Watch," but the Imperial Battalion of the
"Red Watch" loyally earned the name at the great salient at Ypres,
where they watched at the post of honor and halted the German masses
in their second great drive to Calais. This story has most to tell
about these stirring days, but a word about the Canadian Militia and
this regiment in particular may be in order.
Reference in the foregoing chapter has been made to the Highland
regiments that served in the Colonial Wars. These troops were regular
troops, but always serving with or against them were the Canadian
Militia.
From the very beginning of the Colonies there was a Canadian Militia.
From its inception during the Indian wars down to the time of writing,
this Militia has been distinguished for bravery. It came into being in
the days of the early French settlement, and the Canadian Militia
helped Montcalm to fight at Ticonderoga, Detroit and Fort DuQuesne.
During the Seven Years' War, the Canadian Militia served continuously.
At the capitulation of Canada it was stipulated that the Provincial
Militia were to be allowed to return unmolested to their farms. They
marched out of the fallen fortresses with all the honors of war, with
arms and badges, drums beating, colors flying and matches lit. When
Canada became British, the militia was incorporated into the new State
organization. It distinguished itself again during the War of 1812 at
Chateauguay, Detroit, Queenston Heights, Chippewa and Lundy's Lane. On
numerous occasions the Imperial authorities commended the gallant
conduct of the Canadian Militia.
When the Confederation of the Canadian Colonies was accomplished, in
1866, it was decided that the defence of the country should be left
largely to the Militia, and a condition of Confederation was that this
force was to be retained and strengthened, and a certain sum of money
should be spent upon it annually.
When an invasion was threatened from the United States in 1866, the
Canadian Militia sprang to arms and manned the frontiers. When General
Louis Riel raised the banner of rebellion in the North-West
Territories of Canada on two occasions, it was the civilian soldiers
that suppressed the uprising. When the British power under Lord
Wolseley went to the assistance of General Gordon in the Soudan, a
contingent of Canadians, under Colonel Frederick Denison, C.B., M.P.,
helped to pilot the Nile barges up that historic river. Again when war
broke out in South Africa, the Canadian contingent covered itself with
glory on the hard won field of Paardeburg, helping materially to win
the first decisive victory in South Africa for the British Army.
The 48th Highlanders Regiment in the Canadian Militia was formed in
1891. A number of enthusiastic Scotchmen met in the City of Toronto and
decided to organize a Militia Regiment wearing the tartan kilt and
feather bonnet. Committees were formed and in a very short time
sufficient funds were raised to enable the regiment to be uniformed.
Sir George E. Foster, then Minister of Finance for the Dominion of
Canada, Sir John A. Macdonald, the Prime Minister, and Sir Oliver
Mowat, the Premier of the Province of Ontario, lent their patronage to
the movement. The writer was associated in the work, and appeared in
the first _Gazette_ as a Captain of the new corps. The first Commanding
Officer, Lieutenant-Colonel J.I. Davidson, Lieutenant-Colonel A.M.
Cosby, Lieutenant-Colonel W.C. Macdonald, Lieutenant-Colonel Robertson
and Lieutenant-Colonel William Hendrie were on the original committees
of the regiment. At the time of writing this book, the regiment had one
Colonel and five Lieutenant-Colonels on active service, namely, Colonel
Currie, M.P., Lieutenant-Colonels Marshall, Hendrie, Dansereau, Miller
and Chisholm.
One of the leading spirits in the formation of the corps was Hon.
Lt.-Colonel Dr. Alexander Fraser, Ph.D., A.D.C., the noted Celtic
scholar and antiquarian. The tartan chosen was the old Davidson tartan
in honor of its first Colonel. The badge was the Celtic motto "Dileas
Gu Brath." It was given the number "48" in the Canadian Militia list,
which number on its bonnets and badges it has since proudly worn on
two continents and in three countries, on tented ground and hard
fought field. In the South African War the regiment sent its quota and
the men served with much distinction.
Many Highland gatherings in Canada were held under the auspices of
this regiment. A bayonet team was sent to the Royal Military
tournament, at Islington, in June, 1897, and this team carried off the
three principal events, viz.: the Colonial Individual Competition, the
All-Comers' Individual Championship and the Team Championship. Private
George Stewart it was that won the Championship, and a great
reception was tendered him when he came home to Canada.
The regiment had always paid a great deal of attention to musketry and
in 1913, the year the writer became Commanding Officer, the blue
ribbon of Rifle shooting, the King's Prize, was won at Bisley by a
member of the corps, Sergeant Hawkins. In that year the
Colonel-in-Chief of the regiment, General Sir Ian Hamilton, arrived in
Canada on a tour of inspection of the Overseas Forces of the Crown. He
reviewed the regiment and expressed himself as well pleased. This
visit was considered a great honor.
Early in the year 1914, the strength of the regiment was raised to a
peace establishment of 867, rank and file, and the field training of
the corps took place at Petawawa, where Lord Brooke had command of the
Canadian forces in training. The regiment behaved well and showed
evidence of the high standard of efficiency which it subsequently
reached. The greatest enthusiasm prevailed, and the corps was in
excellent form when the war was declared in August, 1914. It was the
first to volunteer as a unit for Overseas service.
CHAPTER III
THE NEWER COLONIAL POLICY
"I suppose now that Great Britain has declared war on Germany, Canada
will throw in her lot with the United States," so laughingly spoke an
American friend that I met the day Great Britain declared war on
Germany.
"Not a bit of it," I said. "Before the week is over you will hear the
drums beating and see recruits foregathering here. Canada is at war as
well as Great Britain."
"But won't you have difficulties with Quebec?"
"Nothing of the kind. Depend upon it, the last gun in favor of British
connection in Canada will, if necessary, be fired by a French-Canadian.
They marry young and may be a trifle slow in volunteering on that
account. It requires a great effort for a man to tear himself away from
a young, helpless wife and a large small family, but they come of good
fighting stock, and when it comes to war, blood will tell."
"Well, you can depend on the Monroe-doctrine anyway."
"Yes, we believe in the Monroe-doctrine just the same as you do. We
are going to fight for it on the Plains of Flanders."
"But you don't mean that Canada is going to take an active part in the
war?"
"Certainly."
"Well, nobody ever thought you would."
In this he was expressing the traditional view of Colonial connection.
At the time of the break with the American colonies, Turgot, the great
French economist, coined a phrase which has been accepted by the
chancelleries of Europe as a truism: "Colonies are like fruit, when
they become ripe they drop from the parent stem."
When Germany decided to cross the Meuse into Belgium the Emperor had
been assured by his foreign office that Great Britain would not take
part in the war. There were the disturbing questions of Home Rule for
Ireland, Socialism and anti-Militarism, and the Colonies had grown in
wealth and population to such an extent that they were ready to drop
from the parent stem if ever they would do so. Would Great Britain
risk civil war at home and the loss of her Colonies abroad in order to
vindicate her pledge given years before, to keep inviolate the
frontiers of Belgium? The answer was the prompt declaration of war on
Germany, the cessation of political warfare at home, abroad the
splendid enthusiasm of the Colonies with offers of men and money.
Previous to the break with the American Colonies, Great Britain had
adopted a colonial policy very much on what we would call Imperial
lines. The Navigation Laws of Cromwell gave her virtually command of
all trade by sea, protective tariffs and bounties built up
inter-Imperial and home trade.
At the end of the Seven Years' War, the Empire, judged from the
world's standard, was far greater than it is now. The Colonies were
vaster and comparatively more powerful. The general impression now is
that Britain's Colonies in America were in those days managed the same
as Germany managed her African Colonies, that they were oppressed and
had nothing to say about how they were governed and that the mother
country played the part of a despot. Such was not the case. The
constitutions of the American Provinces were most democratic, more so
than many colonial constitutions of to-day. All the provinces in
America possessed a parliament elected by the people, and three of
them, Connecticut, Rhode Island and Massachusetts, elected an upper
House or Senate. Rhode Island and Connecticut elected their own
Governors, and these two provinces, along with Maryland, could enact
laws without the veto or interference of British legislators or the
Crown. In 1762 Great Britain had 337,000 men under arms, and of these
over 25,000 were Colonials from America. Fifteen thousand New England
seamen volunteered for the Spanish War, and during the Seven Years'
War the Colonials manned over 400 privateers or ships of war, and the
State of Pennsylvania spent L440,000, a great sum of money in those
days, for military purposes.
With the Colonies so loyal and so willing to assist Great Britain in
time of trouble and danger, how was it that in a decade the Empire was
shattered and the major portion of the Colonies were busy building up
a nation of their own? At this distance of time it is still hard to
view the question dispassionately.
Who was responsible for this great criminal folly?
Was it some individual?
Was it the old Colonial policy?
Or, was it petty parish politics?
The trend of political thought in the Colonies has generally been the
antithesis of political thought in Great Britain. Colonial thought has
always been an enigma to the British. Of recent years it has been both
disturbing and confusing. The Colonial, who, with his own eyes, within
the span of a few years in his own country, views the transition of a
bit of landscape from barbarism to civilization, the hunter giving way
to the shepherd, the herder to the farmer, cities and towns springing
up over night with factories and banking established in a few months,
seldom arrives at the same political conclusion as the theorist who
tries to conjure up the genesis of political economy from books and
musty documents. His is the school of hard experience, which teaches
lessons that fine-spun theories cannot upset. It is so with his
Colonial theories of economics and government. The dead weight of
tradition does not hang around his neck where State affairs are
concerned and precedent only counts when it is right and just.
Governor Pownall, of New Jersey, immediately previous to the time of
the Revolutionary war, wrote a book, entitled: "The Administration of
the British Colonies." In this work he pointed out the necessity of
closer political union between the Colonies and the mother country; in
fact, he outlined an Imperial constitution. He pointed out that there
had always existed two lines of thought among English-speaking people.
One favored unity, centralization, Imperialism, the other disunion, or
individualism, claiming that in the absolute independence of each
small unit of the Empire rested liberty and freedom. This struggle is
still on.
[Illustration: CAPT. R. CLIFFORD DARLING, ADJUTANT]
Had Pitt followed up his idea of uniting the Colonies into a Dominion,
or into an even greater union such as he was pressed then to do, the
American Revolution would in all probability have been averted.
But Pitt's energies were turned to the war then being carried on in
Germany, and the Colonies were for the time-being neglected with
disastrous results.
The historical philosophers of modern Germany cherished the delusion
that history would repeat itself.
Ever since the American Revolution, Great Britain had adopted a
different Colonial policy from the policy of Pitt. The navigation laws
had been repealed, protection and bounties had been withdrawn, the
doctrine of _laisser faire_ prevailed.
When the American Colonies secured their independence, each colony of
the thirteen was a helpless independent unit. They had united for the
war of Independence, but the union was one of sentiment, there was no
constitution, no common ground on which they could unite for political
action. Fortunately, the war had produced such wise patriotic men as
Washington, Franklin and Hamilton, and through their efforts a
political union of the Colonies was accomplished. It took the better
part of ten years to do this. It was part of the policy of
reconstruction. Later on, the Colonies in Canada followed suit. They
united under a constitution which, at the same time, guaranteed the
autonomy of the provinces within and solidarity in external affairs.
Australia and South Africa followed suit. The policy of Imperial unity
had been gathering force and momentum, but when the great war came it
had not yet reached that point where the pressing of a button would
set machinery at work which would marshall all the financial,
mechanical, political and military resources of the Empire. That day
will come.
The example of the Colonies in rallying immediately to the aid of the
mother country proved the saying that after all it is the horse, not
the harness, that pulls the load. The Imperial harness is an
aggregation of shreds and patches, not yet even a conception, but when
the time of trial came, the Imperial spirit rose superior to all
obstacles, surprising the German Emperor and the whole world.
In vain were the seeds of sedition sown in various parts of the Empire
and in neutral countries.
An old Irish woman voiced the Home Rule sentiment abroad thus: "The
English have not used the Irish right, but we will forget that for the
moment, for we will never be able to lift our heads again in New York
if we let the Germans bate us."
The most preposterous thing in connection with the German program was
the propaganda of anti-militarism preached among the British people,
and the most amazing thing was that the British were so lacking in
self-respect that they would listen to such doctrines. A noble and
unsullied past has given the British people the right to be in the
highest sense a military nation. For a century the sun has never
risen, but its rays have fallen on the face of a Briton who has died
for liberty. Wherever Britain has been compelled to draw the sword
there has followed freedom and peace. There is the record of India,
Canada, of Egypt and of South Africa to point to. No person unless
steeped to the eye-brows in pro-Germanism can, in the face of that
record, assert that Great Britain ever used her military power to
oppress the weak, or tyrannize over the people she, of necessity, had
to conquer. Why then should Britain be asked to disarm and turn over
the business of maintaining the world's peace to the Hun and the
Turk? To preach anti-militarism to a British people is to insult their
intelligence. Britain alone of all nations has brought peace with her
sword. The interests of Christianity, of humanity and of civilization
demand that she be always a great military power. Had she not listened
to the pro-German pleas of the so-called anti-militarists,
Austria-Germany would not have dared to dream of conquering the world.
Much suffering would have been avoided, and life and treasure would
have been saved. This war is fairly laid at the door of those who
practised and preached anti-militarism in the British Empire. If Great
Britain had possessed a national army of half a million men in 1913,
there would have been no war.
Somebody has to police the world and the best policeman is the man who
wears khaki and speaks the English tongue.
CHAPTER IV
THE CALL TO ARMS
In the War of 1870, the Germans advanced across the Rhine on the
frontier of France. The independent State of Luxemburg and the Kingdom
of Belgium were not disturbed. The Germans at that time respected the
neutrality of these countries. They kept the treaties that had been
made years before, guaranteeing these countries from invasion in case
of war. Bismarck, although a man of "blood" and "iron," as a rule,
respected treaties.
With the French frontier bristling with guns, fortresses and
entrenchments that had been deliberately prepared in advance, the
Germans, in 1914, stood a good chance of being beaten in the first
round if they had attacked the eastern frontier of France on the
declaration of war. Behind a ring of entrenchments the French Generals
could deliberately mass their armies, and the battle front could be
narrowed to such an extent that the preponderance of numbers which the
Germans could put in the field could not count.
For some years, however, German military writers had been advocating
that the German army of invasion should march through Belgium and
Luxemburg. It was known that the latter country could not object, but
with Belgium it was different. The Belgians had been warned, and were
busy arming, under the leadership of their ruler, who was universally
beloved. The Belgians are a proud people, and since the days of Caesar
they had on numerous occasions hurled the invading Germans back and
held their homes and frontiers inviolate. The Germans, however,
imagined, that once their vast armies crossed the Meuse and began a
march on Namur and Charleroi, the martial ardor of the Belgians would
cool and that beyond a formal protest, no resistance would be
offered.
As France and Belgium had been on terms of friendship for many years,
the Franco-Belgian frontier had not been protected by fortresses. The
German frontier of Belgium, however, had been fortified some years
before under the direction of a famous Belgian engineer, named
Brailmont, who was the successor of other eminent military Belgian
engineers, such as Vauban, who had taught the art of fortification to
a previous age.
On August 2nd, 1914, the Germans declared war on France, and the First
field army of Austro-Germans crossed the Meuse near Liege. For two
weeks the Germans delayed before Liege, expecting that the French
would send several armies into Belgium and thus weaken the forces
before Metz. The French generals refused the bait, and were ready when
the German main army struck along the old road from Metz to Paris. The
Germans were defeated and left 40,000 dead on the battlefield. This
was the greatest battle in the history of the world.
Great Britain declared war on Germany for violating the neutrality of
Belgium and the war feeling in Canada became intense. It was realized
that Canada must participate. The only question was what form aid
would take.
For a number of years the question of the "German Peril" had been
discussed, but a great many people imagined that the anti-German talk
was a mild form of Jingoism. It soon became known that Great Britain
would accept the defence of the sea as her share of the war, and that
only a small field army would be sent abroad. The great question for a
few days was, would Canada be allowed to send a contingent to serve
with the Allies? Again, as in the case of the South African war, the
arm-chair critics were in favor of drafting a number of Canadians to
serve with the British regiments. Sir Robert Borden, however, was not
long in making it known that a contingent of Canadians would be
enlisted and that they would serve abroad as a unit, under their own
officers. Then there was much rejoicing.
The next question that arose was whether the unit was to be composed
of regiments of militia, drafts from militia regiments, or recruits
from outside the militia. The Minister of Militia and Defence promptly
announced that he would accept battalions or units from Militia
regiments and that the men would serve under their own officers. This
was highly satisfactory.
The guiding hand of his Royal Highness the Duke of Connaught,
Governor-General, the first soldier of Europe, was seen everywhere, at
the beginning and throughout the war. It was a fortunate matter for
Canada that he was Governor-General at the time.
To the Prime Minister, Sir Robert Borden, was due the splendid
response to the call to arms of the Canadian people. He put duty
before public applause of petty politics like a true Canadian. Future
generations will do full credit to his unselfishness.
Sir Wilfrid Laurier, the leader of the Opposition, brushing aside all
partizanship, earnestly seconded the efforts of the Government. His
splendid patriotism never rose to greater heights than in this trying
time.
A meeting of the 48th Highlanders was immediately called at the
Officers' quarters, and they were asked to say whether they desired
the regiment to go as a complete battalion. The first man to say "yes"
was the regimental surgeon, Major MacKenzie, whose subsequent services
at Flanders were of great value. Other officers tendered their
services and it was seen at once that there would be plenty of
officers; as for the men, numbers were available, and it was decided
then and there that the regiment would go as a unit. Some officers
could not see their way to go. Business and family ties prevented
them. Happy is that militia regiment whose senior officers are at all
times ready to sacrifice their business as well as their lives in the
service of the country.
It was my duty as the Commanding Officer to see the Minister of
Militia at once and tender the services of the 48th Highlanders as a
unit. Those were strenuous days for the Minister. At Ottawa I found
him surrounded by his staff, with sleeves rolled up, dealing with
heaps of correspondence and a long row of people outside in the
ante-room waiting to see him. I asked him if he would take the
Regiment, kilts and all, and he promptly said he would, that in a few
hours orders would be issued for the Militia to enlist for foreign
service and that a great camp of instruction would be formed at
Valcartier, where they would all be prepared for overseas service. In
the meantime, the units enlisting or volunteering would be drilled at
local Headquarters, and the 48th and the Toronto units would go into
camp at Long Branch for a few weeks. The announcement was made in the
press that the 48th had volunteered, under my command, and on my
return I ordered a parade of the regiment on Friday, August 8th, to
start work for overseas and open recruit classes.
On Friday evening, the battalion paraded nine hundred and fifty-three
strong. The great Armories were thronged with people and hundreds had
to be refused permission to enter. The people were filled with the war
spirit and the excitement was intense. The two bands were on hand, the
brass with forty-five musicians and the pipes with twenty pipers. The
battalion marched through the streets, and all along the line of march
for over a mile the streets were so thronged with a cheering crowd
that it was almost impossible for the men in fours to march through.
Thousands of flags waved and the people were much excited. Some one
for a joked waved the German flag at the head of the regiment and in a
moment it was torn from his hand and trampled to pieces by the crowd.
The joker had a narrow escape with his life. That night, three hundred
and fifty-five recruits joined for overseas service. Many men in the
regiment had served for years and in some instances father and son
stood side by side in the ranks.
It was felt it would not be fair to take many men of middle age along.
This was going to be a long war and required young men, and the age
limit was put at thirty years, the height at five feet eight inches
and the chest measurement at thirty-eight inches. These were the
limits given to the recruiting sergeants, and with lots of men
offering, we knew that we would have no difficulty in getting all we
required.
Orders for the mobilization, on the 15th of August, of the Canadian
Militia, were issued. Instructions for the Toronto Corps to go into
training at Long Branch were also given and I was instructed that
whilst at Long Branch I would have to officiate as Brigadier. On the
17th of August the 48th Highlanders paraded at the Armories and,
headed by the pipers playing "We will take the High Road," they
marched to the Union Station and entrained for Long Branch Camp.
Long Branch is located about twelve miles west of the City of Toronto.
Here there is an excellent Rifle Range and ample accommodation for
four or five thousand men. Major Sweny, a Canadian officer in the
British Army, who was attached to the Canadian instructional staff,
and Major Dixon, acted as Brigade staff officers, and very soon the
camp was in running order.
The first night the Battalion spent in camp there was a terrible
thunder-storm, one of the worst in years. It was our first night on
active service and no doubt many wondered if this presaged the future
of the "Red Watch" in Flanders.
There was not much sleep for the Commanding Officer that night. What
with the terrific storm which lit up the landscape as light as day,
and the newly-acquired responsibility of drilling and disciplining a
battalion of raw troops for the war, the outlook spelt much hard work.
Drilling a Battalion of Militia once a week was fun compared with such
work, for besides the foot and arm drill there was the field training,
and worst of all, the training of the men and non-commissioned
officers in the duties of a soldier in quarters and in the field. The
material was of the very best quality, comprising college men,
business men, and men associated with the industrial life of the
country. The responsibility of its form and future rested on its
commanding officer. The officers and non-commissioned officers had to
be trained from the beginning. In the British army the tradition of
the duties of officers and non-commissioned officers,--the interior
economy of the regiment--descends from generation to generation as
unwritten laws or rules. Certain things are done in a certain way,
often differently from other corps, in memory of some event in the
history of the regiment. We had no standing orders and no regimental
traditions. In a regular regiment a non-com. learns how to "carry on"
his work from practical experience and seeing other non-coms. doing
their work. Long before he becomes a "duty" non-com., he knows what to
do. In our case these duties would have to be taught by means of
lectures. This would be difficult. The first morning we were in camp,
classes for the officers and non-commissioned officers were started.
The Adjutant, Captain Darling, and Lieutenant Warren, who was made
Assistant Adjutant, rendered very valuable services at this juncture,
as did also Sergeant-Major Grant, Sergeant Alex. Sinclair, who was
given a Commission, and Sergeant Radcliffe, who subsequently became a
Company Commander in one of the Battalions of the Staffordshire
regiment, and was wounded at the Dardanelles. The men were turned over
for musketry instruction to Captain McGregor. Fortunately, we had
several good musketry instructors, among them Sergeant Hawkins, winner
of the King's prize at Bisley, Sergeant Graham and Sergeant Williams,
bayonet instructor.
All young men who desired to qualify as non-coms. and instructors were
asked to join these classes, and they responded in large numbers. They
became highly efficient, and when we went to England, quite a few
transferred to the New Army as instructional officers and rose very
rapidly in the British service.
The organization and discipline of the Light Division in the
Peninsular War, trained by Sir John Moore and General Crauford, has
always been noted as a model for future armies. It was decided to
follow as closely as possible this system, and the Standing Orders of
the Light Division, that served with such distinction under the Duke
of Wellington in Spain, Portugal and France, became the basis of the
standing orders of our new Highland battalion. The instructional
classes, once established, ran on very smoothly. Great stress was laid
upon acquiring a good clear, decisive and loud word of command. There
is nothing that will galvanize a Highland Battalion into action like a
sharp word of command with the "rs" well sounded.
The duties of Brigadier at Long Branch did not prove as onerous as
expected, as the units that went out for training there were officered
by experienced instructors who were accustomed to training camps at
Niagara, so the work of hammering the various troops into shape
proceeded very rapidly. The anti-militarists, however, were very busy
and persisted in anonymously calling me up by telephone and pointing
out to me what a terrible thing it was to take up arms against the
Kaiser and to take so many fine men off with me to the war. Others
wrote annoying anonymous letters calling down the wrath of Heaven on
my head for trying to mix Canada in the war, whilst a third faction
suffering from the Celtic gift of second sight described how
mysterious falling stars and meteors flashing across the sky at night,
and other portents, presaged dire disaster to the British arms in the
war, and more particularly to the 48th Highlanders.
Staff officers, Majors Dixon and Sweny, were both soon called to
Valcartier to help organize the first contingent. Later, Major Sweny
left for England to join his regiment, which had been ordered to the
Front. Had Major Sweny remained in Canada he no doubt would have been
given a command high up on the staff, and very rapid promotion, but he
chose to play the manlier part, and joined his own regiment in England
when called. The war gave him well deserved promotion.
On August the 18th, the House of Commons met in Ottawa and the Speech
from the Throne was read by His Royal Highness the Duke of Connaught,
khaki being the uniform of the military men present. A short visit to
Ottawa to say good-bye to colleagues in the House of Commons, a brief
trip to Collingwood in my constituency to lay the corner stone of a
new postoffice building, and I was back again at the work of preparing
for Flanders. The soldiers were hardly settled in camp at Long Branch,
when orders were given that every man would have to be inoculated
against typhoid, and the process began on a Saturday. The men lined up
cheerfully and let the regimental surgeon, Major MacKenzie, jab a
needle and the serum into their arms.
The following Sunday there was a Church parade. The sermon was
preached by Rev. Major Crawford Brown, the regimental Chaplain. The
various units in camp paraded at a small natural amphitheatre near the
lines. Many people motored out from Toronto to attend the service. The
band of the regiment, under Lieut. John Slatter, came out and supplied
the music for the service. The day was beautifully bright and a trifle
warm. After the sermon had commenced, many of the men began to feel
the effects of the serum and a few toppled over, and for the first
time the new battalion heard the call of "stretcher bearer." The men
were all ordered to sit down. The effect of the inoculation is to make
one have real typhoid for a few hours, after that there is a quick
recovery, and the absence of typhoid among the men subsequently spoke
volumes for the efficacy of the preventative.
Every evening the battalion had a camp fire and "sing-song," and
hundreds of people came out from Toronto to join in the fun, which
consisted of band music, choruses and Highland dancing. The days
passed very pleasantly and quickly. On August 27th, orders arrived for
the battalion to go to Valcartier to join the contingent being formed
there for overseas service, and an advance party left for that camp
at once. The date for the departure of the battalion was fixed for
Saturday, August 29th. That was to be the first march on the road to
Flanders.
CHAPTER V
ORGANIZING IMPERIAL BATTALIONS
The work of organizing and equipping the Canadian Imperial battalions
for overseas service was taken up with great vigor by the Minister of
Militia, Major-General Sir Sam Hughes, and the officers of his
Department.
Owing to the influence of the churches the best class of youth in the
country came forward in large numbers. The Clergy appealed to the
athletes that had been trained in the Gymnasiums of the Y.M.C.A., and
the ranks soon contained a large sprinkling of Canadian lacrosse and
hockey players. It was afterwards to be shown that the manly and
strenuous native Canadian sports, lacrosse and hockey, practised by
almost every boy in the country from the time he is able to walk, are
of a character admirably suited to produce bold and courageous
soldiers. Boys who have been accustomed to handle lacrosse and hockey
sticks, develop arm and shoulder muscles that make the carrying and
use of the rifle easy. Firing for hours during a hot and sustained
engagement does not fatigue nor exhaust them as it otherwise would. In
the rough work of the bayonet charge, they keep their heads, and have
confidence in their ability at close quarters to overcome their
antagonist. They do not dread a blow or a bayonet, for they have been
accustomed to roughing it all their lives. When it comes to "cold
steel," it is the man who has the courage and confidence in himself
that wins, for nineteen times out of twenty the other man is dominated
before blades are crossed, and at once either throws up his hands or
runs.
The moral character and influence of these men permeated the first
contingent, with the result that never since the days of Cromwell's
New Army did the Empire possess a more athletic, courageous or
God-fearing army than the First Canadian Contingent. The work of
carving the name of "Canada" in the annals of the war was entrusted to
the hands of these clean, sober, religious, athletic young men. How
they kept this trust history in future ages will tell in letters of
gold. Many clergymen of various denominations who had been foremost in
preaching Pacifism, upon hearing of the ruthless invasion of Belgium,
realized the hollow sham of German culture, and saw the Hun in his
true light. With the Empire plunged into a great war, it was not a
time to consider the ancient and pampered ideas of consistency. Until
the German was destroyed there could be no peace of any kind. To their
eternal credit, be it said, they flung themselves whole-heartedly into
the cause, and none equalled them in preaching resistance, recruiting
and working night and day for the Red Cross Society and various other
patriotic and national organizations.
With such vast numbers of men coming forward there was a good deal of
discussion as to who should be first taken, the arguments being very
much in favor of the veterans or "ribbon" men who had seen service in
previous campaigns. About two thousand of the men who had gone from
Canada to the South African war were still living, and a great many
veterans from the Old Country had immigrated to Canada, and with few
exceptions they unhesitatingly offered their services. If they passed
the surgeon they were taken on, and afterwards they did good service.
They were especially numerous in the Princess Pats, the British
Columbian and Western Regiments. These men, although foreign born,
prided themselves on being "Canadians." They increased, however, the
percentage of those in the first contingent born outside of Canada,
but the officers of the first contingent almost to a man were
Canadians.
On Saturday, August 29th, 1914, our Battalion paraded early in the
morning and bade farewell to Long Branch Camp. The night before we
left we had a "sing-song" or concert. Arrangements had been made for
us to take cars for Toronto in the morning and rendezvous at the
Armories during the noon-hour, when the men would be allowed to see
their friends or sweethearts. We entrained safely and made a brave
show as we marched up Queen Street to the Armories, the pipes playing
"Highland Laddie." Shortly after one o'clock the people began to
gather and they soon filled the drill hall. There was very little
gloom and everybody was cheerful.
As we fell in, the Lieutenant-Governor, Sir John Gibson, and Lady
Gibson, arrived and they spoke to me of their son, Lieutenant Frank
Gibson, who was one of my officers, expressing their pleasure at his
being an officer of the corps. A gallant young soldier he was, indeed;
a graduate of the Royal Military College, and always wearing a
pleasant smile. Other parents spoke of their sons to me. Some of the
older officers of the garrison were afraid that my officers were too
young and that we did not have enough officers of mature years, but
experience was to show that age does not give a monopoly of courage or
bravery, nor of fortitude and good judgment.
Memorable addresses were delivered by the Lieutenant-Governor, the
Mayor of the City, Mr. Hocken, and by the Chaplain Major, the Rev.
Crawford Brown. His excellent address was full of comfort and cheer
for the men. He told them it was a great honor to be permitted to go
to the front and that their country would always esteem them and owe
them a debt of gratitude. The Armories rang with cheers as the pipes
struck up the war tune, "Well take the High Road," and the battalion
swung out of the doors and into the drizzling rain that was falling,
but in spite of which, thousands of people lined the streets. Every
step we took the excitement became more intense, and by the time we
reached the Don Station where we were to entrain for Valcartier,
almost all semblance of order was gone from the ranks. Young ladies
carried the men's rifles, others decorated them with flowers, others
clung to their arms and the sidewalks were a mass of excited cheering
humanity. Friends and relations came from all over the Province of
Ontario to see the regiment off for the front. I have seen many crowds
in my life, and excited ones at that, but the crowd that covered the
Don Bridge above the station and every available vantage point and
avenue that led to our train that afternoon was by long odds the
largest. It was estimated that 100,000 gathered to see us off. The
farewell the people gave us was very touching. There were no tears, no
wailing, but cheers, earnestness and good will, and a hearty send-off.
In spite of the crowd the men found their way to their respective
cars, and we pulled out of the station on the second lap of our
journey to the Front, on time.
Lieutenant Barwick acted as transport officer and the parade state
showed 970 men and officers.
We had an excellent run on the Canadian Northern Railway to Quebec,
but lost a little time there and were late in reaching Valcartier. The
men had their blankets, rifles, and equipment complete with them. They
were fitted out ready for the field with everything but ammunition.
When we arrived at Valcartier it was still raining, but the troops
already there turned out and lined the roadway to cheer and see us
march in. The Minister of Militia met us at the station, together with
Lt.-Colonel Murphy of Ottawa, and guides led us to the lines where we
were to be quartered for the night.
Nature has done much to adorn Valcartier and every mile along the road
from Quebec to this beautiful valley is rich in historic associations.
First, there is the St. Charles river, whose shallows and mud flats
foiled General Wolfe in his first assault upon Quebec. A few miles
along we came near to the ruins of the famous Chateau Noir or
Hermitage of Intendant Bigot, made famous in story by Kirby in "Le
Chien D'Or;" by Sir Gilbert Parker in "The Seats of the Mighty"; by
W.D. Howells and by Joseph Marinette. Only a heap of ruins are left.
The famous maze is gone, chopped into firewood, no doubt. Still
nightly the spirit of Caroline, according to local traditions,
haunts the spot where she was murdered by her jealous rival, Madame
Pean. Further on, there is the village of Loretto where hundreds of
years ago the first mission to the Indians was established in Canada.
Here are living to-day the last of that mighty Indian tribe, the
Hurons, who in the beginning cast in their lot with the French
settlers, and paid for it later by being annihilated by the fierce
Iroquois, the Allies of the British. For over two hundred years, since
1697, this remnant have lived in security within the sound of Loretto
Falls, and worshipped for over one hundred and fifty years in the
Mission Church of Loretto, which is a replica of the Santa Casa of
Loretto and contains a copy of the Loretto figure of the Virgin.
[Illustration: OFFICERS OF THE 48TH HIGHLANDERS
From Left to Right--Top Row: Lt. J.A.M. Livingstone, (W); Lt.
W.P. Malone; Lt. L.V. Jones, (G.P.); Lt. H.M. Scott, (G); Lt.
G.P. Taylor, (K); Lt. R.H. Davidson; Lt. Q.T. Langmuir,(K);
Hon. Capt. Moffat, Chaplain; Lt. H.A. Barwick,(G.P.); Lt. F.M.
Gibson,(K).
Second Row Standing: Lt. A.J. Sinclair, (W); Lt. E.W. Bickle,
(W.G.); Lt. A.E. Muir, (K); Lt. C.V. Fessenden, (G.P.); Lt.
E.O. Bath, (G.P.); Lt. W.B. Lawson; Lt. F.H.C. MacDonald,
(G.P.); Lt. F.J. Smith, (G.P.); Lt. J.A. Dansereau (W.G.); Lt.
W.W. Jago, (W); Lt. W. Mavor, (G.W. 3); Lt. P.G. Campbell; Lt.
P.P. Acland, M.C., (W).
Sitting Down; Capt. Frank Perry; Capt. A.M. Daniels, (K);
Capt. C.H. Musgrove, (W); Capt. F.G.M. Alexander, M.C.,
(G.P.); Surgeon Major A.J. MacKenzie; Lt. Col. Wm. Hendrie,
(Divisional Remount Officer); Col. J.A. Currie, M.P., (G),
(Commanding Officer); Major W.R. Marshall, D.S.O., (K); Major
J.E.K. Osborne, (W.G.P.): Capt. G.H. McLaren, (G.); Capt. A.R.
McGregor, (K.); Capt. R.R. McKessock, (G.W.P.).]
Further on, the road leads to where, through a deep gash in the mighty
Laurentian Mountains, the Jacques Cartier river makes its troubled way
to the broad St. Lawrence. There, in a beautiful wide valley, amid
high mountains rising in graceful terraces from the river and
overlooking the St. Lawrence, about one hundred years ago, a number of
veterans that had followed Wellington to Waterloo formed a settlement,
and beat their swords into ploughshares. They sleep now in the village
churchyard, unmindful of drum or trumpet. Their descendents lived
there only yesterday, but now their lands had been bought out to
provide the grounds for Valcartier Camp.
The outlook for us was not very inviting after the clean camps pitched
in the green fields at Long Branch, but the Department had done
wonders during the time at its disposal. In less than three weeks a
swamp had been cleared up, streets laid out with water mains, and even
in some places sidewalks were laid. Mount Roby resounded to the shrill
blast of the bugle, the rattle of rifles and the roar of field guns.
The work of making a camp on a large scale was being carried out by
hundreds of workmen, under foremen skilled in laying out cities and
towns in Western Canada. The day after we arrived we were given our
own lines and we settled down to hard work.
We transferred to our battalion enough men to fill our ranks up to the
Imperial Establishment of 1,170 rank and file, including the base
company and the transport. In order to accomplish this small
detachments were taken from the 95th regiment, Cobalt and Sudbury,
composed of miners and prospectors, also from the 31st Regiment, of
Grey County, and the 13th Scottish Dragoons.
The 48th Highlanders, the "Red Watch," became the 15th Battalion of
the First Canadian Division, C.E.F. It was subsequently, with all its
officers, N.C.O.'s and men, granted the status of a Regular Imperial
Regiment and given its name, "48th Highlanders," in the British Army
List.
The regiment was turned over by the commanding officer, fully
uniformed and equipped for the field as a regular Highland battalion
without expense to the Crown except for rifles, bayonets and
knapsacks, thus saving the country $25,000.
The camp was under the command of Colonel Victor Williams. It was no
small task to clothe, equip and drill, ready for active warfare, some
thirty-three thousand men. No liquor was allowed in the camp and there
was very little difficulty with the men.
On Sunday, September 7th, the Division was reviewed by the Duke of
Connaught. The battalions marched past in lines of half-battalions and
made a very good showing.
Night and day the officers and men were hard at it. One of the
greatest of many difficulties that were met was the selection of the
officers and men for the contingent.
At first it was suggested that all the officers should be examined as
to their fitness, and a Board was appointed to look them over, but in
a few days this Board threw up its hands and the matter of selection
was left to the Commanding Officers.
Many who had never served in the Militia were clamoring for commands
and the Minister of Militia had some work on his hands. The contingent
was formed into brigades and our battalion was put into the Highland
Brigade, which consisted of our Regiment, the Royal Highlanders of
Canada, Montreal, the Royal Regiment of Montreal, made up principally
of French-Canadians, and the 16th battalion, subsequently called the
Canadian Scottish, a composite corps consisting of Highland Companies
from Victoria and Vancouver, B.C., from Winnipeg, Manitoba, and from
Hamilton, Ontario. Each company wore a different tartan, but that did
not interfere with their efficiency. Colonel Turner, V.C., was given
the command.
On the 14th of September we were again reviewed by His Royal Highness,
in the presence of General Crozier, an American officer. Rain to some
extent interfered, as it had with the previous review. On Sunday,
September 20th, Canon Scott, of Quebec, preached a field sermon to the
Division. A platform had been erected and His Excellency and his staff
took part in the service and subsequently reviewed the troops. The
Prime Minister, Sir Robert Borden, arrived in the morning and called
on our battalion. Our officers were all introduced. He was accompanied
by Lady Borden. The transports were already beginning to gather in the
St. Lawrence that were to carry the contingent to England. Our
equipment was very nearly complete and enough drill had been given to
make us fairly respectable. We all thought we were fit for the field.
We learnt differently afterwards.
It is very strange how the idea seems to get hold of a man, the minute
he gets into khaki uniform, that he is a fully-trained soldier. In
Canada, for years, we had no regular soldiers, and the training
generally was of a kind patterned after the South African War. Straw
hats and overalls were worn by the infantry, and the irregular cavalry
swagger was the fashion. It was fondly imagined that any Canadian who
could shoot straight and who had a week's training could take his
place in the ranks and would be just as good a soldier as a regular of
the King's first Army. No sooner was a man in uniform than everybody
began asking him the question "When are you going to the Front?"
assuming that was a question he could settle himself, and that he
would be anything but in the way and a nuisance at the Front, owing to
his lack of discipline and training. The public in this way made the
men's and officers' lives very miserable. It was almost impossible to
settle down to a hard course of training. Lord Kitchener had placed
the period necessary for getting a man into shape as a soldier at six
months. By great effort that period might be shortened, but from the
experience we gained nine months would be nearer the mark. The
training could be hurried by giving two months of foot and arm drill,
two months' special training of the men in special units, such as
signallers, stretcher bearers, machine gunners, bomb throwers, etc.,
and two months in hard field-training with lots of night work. But the
press of the country was clamoring for us to go to the Front, and
public opinion said "hurry." The battalions were all organized and
orders came for us to move on the 29th of September.
There was a slight drizzle of rain in the morning when we paraded for
the march out. Our transport waggons had to move out early and march
to Quebec, and it was a difficult job to get them started.
I had done everything in my power to suppress gambling and swearing
among the men, and on several occasions when individuals were paraded
before me for using bad language, I had reprimanded them and informed
them that the use of strong language was always left to the Officer
Commanding. This particular morning some choice words had to be used
to get the transport moving. They moved, however, to the tick of the
clock and Sergeant-Major Grant, with a grin on his face, suggested
that from now on there would be no more swearing in the ranks, as
everybody was quite satisfied with the Commanding officer's
qualifications in that regard.
Again the pipes struck up "We'll take the High Road," and after a
march of about a mile and a half to a siding, we entrained in two
sections for Quebec.
At Quebec we had not long to wait. The transport "Megantic," one of
the finest ships on the North Atlantic, was hauled up at the pier with
long planks out to take our regiment on board. The horses and waggons
were to go on a separate ship, although there was plenty of room for
them on board. We were all glad to get away, for it was becoming
monotonous having everybody we met asking "When are you going away?"
CHAPTER VI
THE NEW ARMADA
The St. Lawrence River at Quebec presented a busy scene. Never since
the days of the Tercentennial of the discovery of the River by Jacques
Cartier, when King George and the British fleet, headed by H.M.S. "The
Indomitable," were present, was there so much activity, or so many
ships in the harbor. As soon as each transport was loaded it pulled
away from the pier and dropped anchor in the stream. When all our
troops were on board the "Megantic" we cast loose, pulled up the
stream off Cape Diamond, and "dropped our hook," as a landsman in the
ranks was heard to remark. The hotels and boarding houses of the City
were filled with friends of the men who had come on excursions to bid
the soldiers good-bye. The City was full of life and activity and
brilliantly lighted up and the scene at night was very beautiful. Old
Cape Diamond wearing its crown and sparkling with thousands of
electric lights looked its name. In its shadow on the evening before
he climbed the heights at Ainse d'Fulon Cove, now dim and silent in
the distance, to win the immortal battle of the Plains of Abraham,
General Wolfe had recited Gray's "Elegy" and unconsciously the
prophetic words "The Paths of Glory lead but to the Grave" arose in
the mind. In these shadows Wolfe had brooded over those plans which on
a succeeding morrow were to mature and lead to three of the greatest
epochs in the history of the world--the fall of Quebec, which placed
in the hands of Britannia the trident of the world's naval supremacy,
destroying the foundations of the ancient regime of France, and laying
the corner stone of the great American Republic.
Some one among the crew was humming the refrain of the old
anchor-hoisting song, "Le Chien d'Or--I love your Daughter;" a melody
that has haunted the River St. Lawrence since the day when his
comrades forcibly carried off Admiral Nelson, then a "middy," from the
wiles and fascinations of the daughter of the landlord of "Le Chien
d'Or."
The distant tramp of battalions, the rumble of battery after battery
as they marched through the crooked streets, came faintly from the
shore. The slumbers of a hundred years of peace had been rudely
broken. Europe was ablaze. The hands of the clock of civilization had
been turned back a century. The Empire was again threatened and Canada
was at war.
We lay in the river off Quebec from Saturday night until Tuesday
evening, when we pulled up to the pier again and took on fresh water.
The Captain had asked me if the bar was to be opened. I said, "No,
close it up," which he did most cheerfully, remarking that it was the
first time in twenty-seven years that the White Star line had sailed a
"dry ship." He had thought he had plenty of water to take us to
England, but after three days' experience with a lot of dry
Highlanders he came to the conclusion he was mistaken, so he pulled up
alongside of the dock again, and a miserable stream of water trickled
slowly into the tanks, all afternoon and evening.
Colonel Penhale of the Divisional Ammunition Column was on board and
entitled to seniority. I was very glad to be rid of the responsibility
of ship management, with its round of inspections at all hours and in
all weathers.
We had no sooner got settled on board than I asked the Captain to give
us a plan of his lifeboat stations so that the men could assemble if
necessary, without any confusion, at their posts at the lifeboats in
the shortest possible time. I got this plan and then the trouble
began. The orderly room began to attach the men to their stations by
lists and I waited patiently for a day and there was still nothing but
confusion, showing how difficult it is for an office to run a gang of
men, something I had learned long ago. The Adjutant said "Rush," and
every time a list was made out it was found that some names were
missing and then fresh lists had to be made over again. Finally I took
the sketch of the ship, showing the position of the boats, called the
Captains of the companies and divided up the boat space among them,
and told them to first place the men of their companies at the
different stations with their life belts on, call the rolls of each
boat squad, then dismiss them, and that in an hour or so I was going
to "beat" the troops "to quarters." In an hour I caused the alarm
bugle to sound and there was some scrambling, but I inspected the
decks and found every man at his post with his life-belt on. The first
time it took twenty-five minutes. We did this turn three times, so
that the men soon knew the direct road from their berths to the
lifeboats and were able to get into position in ten minutes, which is
considered very good.
A time table of physical drill was prepared and carried out every
morning and evening. From 9 to 10.30 the right half battalion
practised first twenty minutes' run round the deck, then the balance
of the time they spent at physical drill. This was repeated again in
the afternoon, and the men were all fit when we landed. Officers and
all had to go the round.
We pulled out of Quebec on Wednesday night at 10.15 and very soon
everybody settled down to sleep. The night was dark and still as we
floated down past Cape Diamond. We had a splendid ship, and every day
our admiration of her increased. Even if there was a gale outside, the
ship was as steady as a church. Every three men had a room and there
was a berth for each one. They lived like millionaires. As for the
officers and sergeants they had every comfort.
Our Captain was a very fine man by the name of James. He was an
Englishman from Liverpool, with an aristocratic air, but quite modest,
a gentleman and a seaman every inch of him.
Finally, we pulled into the stream and departed for parts unknown. We
had a beautiful trip down the St. Lawrence. The sun was shining next
day, and on the shore we could see the outlines of the French-Canadian
villages, the long narrow farms and big churches. As we neared Gaspe
Peninsula the mountains in the distant background were covered with
snow. One by one we overhauled the steamers that left before us. In the
evening we were off Flame Point, having dropped our pilot. At Flame
Point they burned blue rockets or flares on the shore at dusk to give
us a send-off. Gradually we swung around Gaspe Peninsula as dusk closed
in. It was then we learned that sealed orders had been given the
Captain to rendezvous at Gaspe Basin. Soon we came in sight of the
lights that mark the entrance to this harbor. The Captain had his
sounding-line going, and I was on the upper deck with the signallers.
Pretty soon we made out the outlines of a small ship shrouded in
darkness. We turned our signalling lamp on her and asked her name. In a
moment came the answer "British Warship, don't go into the harbor until
daylight." The Captain could not find bottom with his anchor with one
hundred fathoms of chain out, so he had to stay outside, backing and
going ahead, all night. We all went to bed feeling secure, with that
cruiser lying a short distance away. When I woke up in the morning the
bugles were sounding the "Officers' Call" to breakfast. I looked out of
my cabin window and after dressing, hastily scrambled on deck. The
sight in Gaspe Basin was one never to be forgotten. Twenty-eight
transports were swinging at anchor, many of them the flower of the
North Atlantic merchant fleet. The ship we were on was the finest of
the White Star Line, the "Megantic." Some distance away was her sister
ship the "Laurentic," also the "Franconia," the "Allonia," the "Royal
George," and the "Royal Edward," all first-class ships. The weather was
bright, clear and warm, and the water of the Basin as smooth as oil.
Some of our officers got letters before they left Quebec, stating that
on the previous Sunday prayers had been offered up in the churches for
the safety of the contingent, which was supposed to be at sea, while
it was riding quietly at anchor in Quebec harbor. We were waiting for
the last of the transports to come before we left. About ten o'clock I
was on the bridge, when I heard cheering, and some one calling my
name. I ran down the deck, and saw the Minister of Militia, who had
come on alongside on a tug. He was going the rounds of the fleet. He
spent a day among the ships, and there was a good deal of talk about
his going on board one of the transports, but he did not. We all
expected to see him waiting for us when we landed in England. The day
passed quietly. No one was allowed ashore. The ship's gig went down to
see some of the other ships of the White Star fleet and we got some of
our belated mail. On Saturday we were to sail with the ebb tide. All
the transports had come in and there was assembled in Gaspe Basin the
greatest Armada that ever set sail for British shores. We were going
in this great Armada to assist the Mother Country to maintain the Pax
Britannicum. There were over twenty-five thousand men in thirty-one
transports. They were anchored in the harbor in lines, and as the tide
rose and fell they shifted about, now heading one way, and after the
lapse of a few hours, in another direction. The Government had kindly
issued to the officers Colt Automatic Pistols and high power field
glasses. My glasses were of a very high power, and I could pick out
the figures of the women and men working about the farm houses five
miles away. The British warships in the basin were obsolete small
cruisers of slow speed, the "Diana," the "Eclipse," the "Talbot" and
the "Charybdis." The latter was the flagship of the Admiral. We looked
upon these ships with a good deal of apprehension. The "Dresden" or
"Karlsruhe," the German ships in the Atlantic, would only have a
mouthful in any one of them, in fact in the whole four. They all
anchored apart in a separate part of the harbor, and the signaller on
the Admiral's ship amused himself by signalling, "Is your bar open?"
"How is the Scotch?" Our men answered back in kind. This mosquito
fleet appeared to have a big job on its hands to convoy this Armada
across. Presently a naval "gent," or "hossifer" as some of the crew
called him, came aboard, and gave the Captain his secret instructions,
that is, the formation of the convoy, and a rendezvous for each day in
case the convoy was scattered by fog, storm or other cause. The
Captain said we were to sail at three o'clock, in three columns,
right, centre and left line, with some ten ships in each line. The
speed was to be ten knots. We were to lead the left line, with H.M.S.
"Eclipse" four cable lengths ahead. The "Charybdis" was to lead the
centre, and the "Diana" the left of the line, while the "Talbot" acted
as a rear guard. Our ship started out first. The Captain of the
"Eclipse" sent the height of his mast back to our Captain and we kept
the distance constantly by the officer of the deck reading off the
proper angle with the sextant. In and out our line threaded, and then
began to zig-zag, until by-and-bye we were out of sight of Gaspe Cape
and all three lines were abreast.
On the afternoon of the last day before we left a black gas boat
filled with people came away from the shore. I scanned them carefully
with my glasses. They came within a couple of hundred yards of our
ship and after halting, went past, looking over the rest of the fleet.
The crew were men and women, evidently fisherfolk, all except one
woman, who sat huddled in the stern. She looked very much like a
German and under her rough coat she had a fine blouse and good
clothes. I had my suspicions and could not help thinking she was
either a newspaper woman or a German spy. I was surprised to find that
when I mentioned this boat to the Captain at the dinner table, he said
she had a suspicious passenger on board, like a "German woman." He was
some observer, was Captain James, R.N.R. He said "My word, we had one
like her on board the last passage over. I set sail north for
Greenland, keeping out of the way and coming in by Belle Isle. This
woman had a basket on her arm when she came on board. I noticed her
basket, and the pigeons in it soon found their way to the pot. I took
them from her. She raised a storm, but I did not want any carrier
pigeons on board. They made good pie."
Now I should say a word about this country before we leave it. The
Basin where we rendezvoued was beautiful and well protected. A number
of fishing boats flew white sails and proclaimed the principal
industry of the villagers. French-Canadians reside on the shore. The
most prominent objects on the horizon were the great churches that
have the customary gilded spire and the clusters of white cottages
about them. The shore rises steeply and the farms taper back into the
forests that crown the hills of the background, which rise fully one
thousand feet above the sea. On our left hand as we left the Basin
were huge clay or sandstone cliffs cut away by the fierce swells of
the Gulf. A lighthouse crowned the Point, with a flag staff from which
a Union Jack stood out in the wind as stiff as a board. On the left
there were masses of rock to mark the shore line, and several small
islands. In one place we could plainly see an arched rock called
"Pierced Rock," where the sea passed below a natural bridge.
The moon came up brightly as we sailed out into the Gulf. By-and-bye
clouds fleeced about it and formed a peculiar halo resembling a cross.
We took that for a good omen. We were speculating whether we were to
go by Belle Isle or Cape Ray, but about nine o'clock the three lines
set their course southeast and then we knew we were to take the
southern route. The weather was all that could be desired, and the
water as smooth as a mill pond. It was slightly cool, as the breezes
always are from Newfoundland. In the morning we could see that ancient
Colony, Cape Rae, with its lighthouse and wireless station. We had
wireless on board, but were not allowed to use it except to intercept
messages. When the Captain took his observation at noon, October 4th,
we were in Lat. N. 47 deg. 36', Long. W. 59 deg. 51'. On a chart at the main
companion way each day's run was recorded with the latitude and
longitude. We had what they called north-easterly gales and fine
weather. Along about noon we caught a glimpse of Cape Breton in the
distance. Nothing occurred all day. It was cloudy to the north and
west and clear to the south, with the sun shining. We had started a
dry canteen when we left Quebec, and it was doing a land office
business. No drinks of an intoxicating nature were sold on board.
When the Captain took his observation we had only sailed 190 miles
from Gaspe. The next day was fine. In the morning we saw a ship loom
up on our left and the cruiser flew out to "speak" her. Evidently she
was all right, "The Bruce," bound from Newfoundland to Sydney. When
she saw us first she started to run away, for the sight of our Armada
was a very impressive one. The chase lasted only a short time when she
discovered we were friends. Then in a very strange way a large grey
battleship slid in from the horizon on our left and was etched against
the bright sky. Volumes of smoke rose from her large funnels and two
big masts with fighting tops made her look quite formidable. She had
been out of sight just beyond the horizon all the time. We found that
she was H.M.S. "Glory," a dreadnought. It felt very comfortable to
have her there, speed twenty-three knots and four twelve-inch guns.
Along in the afternoon two whales spouting water came along and had a
look at the fleet. They kept with us for some time but presently got
tired.
At noon on the 5th, we were in Lat. 46 deg. 17', Long. 35 deg. 03', having
sailed 213 miles in the 24 hours. The transport "Monmouth" had been
giving us trouble, by constantly dropping back. The next day we would
be out of sight of Newfoundland, and we wondered what weather we would
get. The men were kept busy drilling and exercising, so were the
officers. I was made Hon. President of the ship's Y.M.C.A., and a
concert held on board netted a neat sum for the Patriotic fund. We had
four preachers on board. We were to have had a priest, but in some way
he did not turn up. To-day another steamer was chased by the
"Charybdis" but she gave us the slip. She had the "legs" on us all, as
the Captain said, and disappeared into a bank of fog to the north.
Then we got clear of Cape Race, which we did not see. The wind changed
to southwest, and began breaking up the nasty swell that came down
the Atlantic. We had made in the twenty-four hours only 210 knots, our
position being Lat. N. 45 deg. 36', Long. W. 50 deg. 11'. During the night the
rudder gear jammed and our ship began to run amuck among the fleet. We
all slept through it, but the Captain had to stay on deck till it was
fixed. No harm done.
The next day was also fine. There had always been a storm behind us,
but it had not yet caught up. On the 7th of October at noon we were
Lat. 46 deg. 46' N., Long. 45 deg. 25' W., another 210 miles to our credit,
and we were due about the 20th in Southampton at this rate. In the
evening we were amused by a school of dolphins that chased each other
about the ship, jumping out of the water, and acting up generally. We
expected very soon to be in the Gulf stream, where the weather would
be milder. The electric heater in my room was hardly large enough to
cope with the chill in the air. On the 8th we made 214 miles and the
"Monmouth," which was still giving trouble, was ordered up to the
front and signalled by the Admiral to "stoke up." The Admiral had all
the Captains scared stiff. Along in the afternoon we got into the Gulf
stream. A man threw a green canvas pail overboard, dipped it full and
took the temperature of the water. It was 56 deg.. Next day at noon it was
62 deg..
On the 9th we made 250 miles, which was a record run. The "Monmouth"
had found her second wind and was going strong. Some of the ships were
tossing but not very much. I forgot to say that on the 7th, a soldier
on the ship astern of us died. He was a reservist going home to rejoin
his regiment. The ship dropped out of the line and lowered her flag to
half mast, and tolled her bell, whilst they buried him at sea.
All this time the weather was all that could be desired, with bright
sunny days, a mackerel sky and moonlight nights, the moon being at its
full.
The first night out, the Captain called my attention to a comet which
was showing to the north, and according to traditions said to be a
harbinger of war, but when we went to look for it with our glasses it
had gone down. We saw it on the evening of the 7th just south of the
second star in the tail of the "Dipper" or Great Bear. Looking through
my glasses, which were the most powerful on board, being more so than
the ship's telescopes, I could see it quite clearly with a great tail
stretching to the northeast. In a week or so it would be quite large.
The weather continued bright and all the time a storm hung on behind
us, but never caught up.
On the 8th we got well into the Gulf stream, and the temperature of
the water registered 62 deg. to 65 deg.. The nights had been so cold before
this that I had to get out my eiderdown, but when we got into the warm
water, that had to be discarded. We had a bit of a swell from the
north, and we all felt a shade miserable but not enough to be really
sick. During the day a large six-masted schooner, with a barge ahead
of her, hove in sight and started down the line. The "Eclipse" went
after her and led her out of the convoy line. "My," said the Captain
to me, "that fellow will have his ticket taken from him for not
keeping out of the way of a convoy." I found that a complaint from a
naval officer can take away the papers of an officer of the merchant
service.
On Saturday the 10th, when I got up, and looked out of my window, there
on the port bow was another big warship. When I had a good look at her,
I recognized that she was of what they call the Superdreadnought class.
It turned out that she was the "Princess Royal," nicknamed H.M.S.
"Hellfire." She has a speed of 34 knots an hour, and carried eight
13-1/2" guns, besides being very heavily armoured. God help the German
that she marked down, for she was one of the most powerful fighting
machines afloat.
On Saturday afternoon I gave the men a half-holiday, which they
appreciated very much. The officers spent their spare time playing
shuffle board, and other games such as are practised on board ship.
I gave lectures in the afternoons to officers on map reading and
topography. They were apparently very interested and a number of the
outside officers asked leave to attend. There was only one set of
instruments for fifty officers so the class was carried on with
difficulty. Much had to be left till we got ashore. On Sunday
religious services were held by the various denominations.
I forgot to say that on the morning of the 5th, off Cape Race, there
was an alarm in the convoy, a "man overboard." The ships began
sounding their horns, and the "Royal Edward," with the "Princess Pats"
on board, turned out of the line and began lowering her boats, at the
same time flying her flags. The next ship astern dropped a boat also,
and the man was picked up after being in the chilly water for about
fifteen minutes. Then the Admiral sent a message back that the men
were not to climb the rigging.
On Sunday the "Allonia" left the convoy and went on ahead with the
Admiral. It was rumoured they had gone to try and get the British
Government to send the contingent over to recover Antwerp, which we
learned by wireless had fallen on Sunday. The gale continued all day
Monday with a misty fog from the north. We would be off Land's End in
the morning.
On Sunday afternoon another warship of the Dreadnought class quietly
took her place ahead of us. It was H.M.S. "Majestic." The sailors said
that this was the finest voyage they had ever had at this time of the
year.
On Monday, the 12th, we had a signalling competition amongst the
companies. Each company had been teaching all the men the semaphore
code. It is a good thing to start with, but at the Front they use only
the Morse system. About seventy-five per cent. of the men of the
regiment could read the semaphore alphabet very readily. When a
warship sent a signal everybody on board read it. "H" Company won the
signalling competition.
[Illustration: GROUP NON-COMMISSIONED OFFICERS. 48TH
HIGHLANDERS]
The same evening we had a concert given by "F" Company, commanded by
Captain Osborne. I was asked to attend and did so. It was a great
success.
I was wakened Monday morning by some one pounding on the door telling
me that land was in sight. I got up and dressed, had some tea and buns
and went on deck. There was Lizard Point ahead in the mist. It was
blowing a gale, but the sea was not very heavy.
We detached from the convoy about ten o'clock on the 12th, and the
swifter ships started to sail on, but still no one knew what our
destination would be. Last evening the signallers brought us a message
from our General, whoever that might be, saying "dye white haversacks"
"and carry a day's rations, on disembarkation." He did not know that
dye and coffee had run out so that the men could not dye their white
haversacks. Somebody suggested to flag back, "send along some dye by
wireless." Our men's haversacks, however, were dyed drab when we got
them, so we were all right.
A case of measles developed on board, suspected to be German,--another
case of German "frightfulness." In the evening the water was calm and
warm and the night very dark. I went on deck to see the wonderful
phosphorescent display. The ship seemed to be floating in a sea of
gold, or rather sunshine. It was wonderful.
We took a good look at Lizard's Point when we were passing about ten
miles off. There was a big white castle on a cliff and nice green
farms.
Before closing this chapter reference should be made to the good
conduct of all the officers and men. Our men on the signalling staff
had a hard time but they did their duty well. The men and officers
went ashore in the pink of condition.
We got our first real glimpse of England on the 14th. Off Eddystone
Light the pilot came on board. He was a very large portly man and very
nervous about being dropped into the sea. I should judge he weighed at
least two hundred and fifty pounds. The ladder he had to climb was
made of rope with the rungs woven in, and he made them heave him a
line which he fastened about his body.
When he came on board we were informed for the first time that our
original destination was to have been Southampton, and that it had been
changed, by a wireless message from Eddystone Lighthouse that morning,
to Plymouth. The evening before, the warship "Princess Royal" came
steaming down the line. She was on our left. She crossed our column
about half way down--dressed her decks and spars--her crew all in
white--and passed upon the right of our column so close that you could
toss a biscuit on her deck. She is a magnificent fighting machine. Our
men all lined the decks and every available space and cheered
themselves hoarse. That ship is the fastest warship afloat. The
ordinary Dreadnoughts sail twenty-one knots. The "Emden" and the
"Karlsruhe," the German Corsairs, sailed twenty-six knots, but the
"Princess Royal" can reel off thirty-four knots. Our ship was at the
head of our column and she swung past our bow to again take her station
as if we were standing still, so quickly and easily did she answer her
helm. Her decks were cleared for action, her 13-1/2" guns run out. All
her metal work in the setting sun shone like gold. She looked like a
great grey yacht. This convoy had been wonderfully cared for. It seemed
that all the time we were being convoyed by four great battleships and
five light cruisers. The battleships were always below the horizon till
we saw the "Glory" on the right. That was off Cape Breton. Truly the
British Navy is wonderful, and ever up to its traditions. We were
sailing up the Channel and going to land at Plymouth, the port from
which sailed the great Admirals who gave Great Britain command of the
sea. The day was lovely, the autumn sun shining brightly, and the
shores of England shimmered a ruddy bronze brown. The trees were in
full foliage, but the color scheme as seen from the sea was a much more
vivid green than the Canadian landscape. In the early part of the day
we could see a wireless tower and life saving stations at the Lizard.
The shore was steep, a huge line of chalk cliffs.
Fourteen miles from Plymouth we passed Eddystone Lighthouse. This is
one of the most noted lighthouses in the world. The first light was
erected here on a submerged reef in 1697. Six years after it was
washed away during a great storm. It was rebuilt in wood and the
structure stood the buffeting of the Atlantic until it was burned down
in 1755. The third, or as it was called the Smeaton Tower, was erected
in 1757. It was built of masonry and stood until 1882, over a hundred
years. Part of this wonderful old light, I was told by our Captain, is
still in use in Plymouth. The present light is 135 feet high, and was
built by Sir James W. Douglas at a cost of $400,000. In the summer,
excursion steamers run out from Plymouth, but very few of the
passengers land.
As we gradually drew nearer the harbour we began to meet the
sharp-nosed destroyers and torpedo boats that guard the harbour, and
as we neared the entrance we were delighted with the view of a vast
park and grounds with a castle peeping out from the trees. This park
is known as Mount Edgecombe, the seat of Earl Edgecombe. The park is
one of the most beautiful in England and occupies the whole of one
side of the Sound. Through our glasses we could see beautiful lawns,
walks and tropical palm trees growing here in the open air. Soon we
could distinguish the great breakwater that almost closes the entrance
to the Sound. On all sides we could see from grimy walls and caverns
the black gaping mouths of cannon. The shore outlines rose about five
hundred feet on each side and great batteries and the white tents of
some of Kitchener's army were to be seen almost everywhere. There was
certainly no doubt about England being at war. As we drew near the
breakwater a shoal of paddle wheel tugs rushed out to welcome us with
their sirens blowing to pilot us safely into the most noted harbour in
the world. From this port sailed such great captains as Drake, Hawkins
and Cooke, who first circumnavigated the globe. From this port emerged
William Longsword when he defeated the French when they desired to
land an expedition to defeat King John. Here it was where Sir Howard
Effingham and Drake lingered on the Hoe, a hill which we could clearly
see, to finish their famous game of bowls (every bowler knows the
story) before emerging to fall upon the Spanish Armada. Here Blake,
equally famous, the father and organizer of the British Navy, made his
depot, and in the church of St. Andrew's, in the city behind the Hoe,
is deposited his stout heart. From this Sound emerged the Mayflower to
land the Pilgrim Fathers in America, there to lay the foundations of
yet greater nations, and re-establish that Pax Britannicum for which
we were here to fight, and which has given a century of peace in the
new world.
Nearer and near we came, and soon passed the breakwater, guarded by a
huge steel tower girded with long lean gun barrels. The town seemed to
wake up and the open spaces began to fill with people. The sailors and
cadets on Drake Island poured out from the casements like rabbits from
a warren. With our glasses we could see the dense crowd on the Hoe,
which is now a public park. We could see the colossal statue of Sir
Francis Drake towering aloft over the Hoe, speaking trumpet in hand,
as if welcoming us, for certainly this was a great Armada that was
entering the Sound, a peaceful Armada, greater than that of King
Philip; this second Armada composed largely of the second and third
generations of pioneers coming back to give to the Mother Country what
she had so freely given to the Colonies and the civilized world. What
would old Sir Francis have said at this sight if he had lived to-day?
Back from Plymouth in a country manor near Tavistock, some descendant
guards the ancient drum with which Drake beat his crews to their
quarters. It was said that on his deathbed, when he bequeathed this
drum, he left directions that it was not to be beaten unless the
shores of England were endangered, and if it were beaten, England
would produce a great man or something great would occur that would
meet the emergency. Twice only had the drum been beaten, and
assistance came, first in the persons of the great Admiral Blake and
then Admiral Nelson. Some one must have given it a sly tap to bring
the Canadian contingent.
Gradually we drew into the inner harbour. The white streaks on the
shore and on the warships in the harbour resolved themselves into
naval cadets and "tars" "dressing" ship. We had seen this before on
the decks of the "Princess Royal." Here were hundreds and thousands of
them. Certainly England did not show any slackness in the number of
sailors. We could hear the cheering from the shore, and our pipes
struck up "The Cock o' the North." The men cheered themselves hoarse
in reply. Then we could hear the civilians on the shore giving out
something like a college yell. We listened and it came across "Are we
down-hearted? No." It never seemed to strike our men that way. We had
not heard the latest London Music Hall slang borrowed from "Joe"
Chamberlain, so our men called back, "Cheer up, the worst is yet to
come" and everybody roared with laughter. Slowly the "Megantic"
threaded her way in and out between buoys, through mines loaded with
enough dynamite to blow her to smithereens. The inner harbour is
called the Hamoaze. As we passed Drake Island, we were under the guns
of the citadel which was built in 1670 and is still occupied; we
passed the great naval victualling yard, a large establishment built
in 1835 for victualling the navy. Then we entered that part of the
Sound known as Devonport, the headquarters of the Royal Navy.
Devonport is one of the great naval yards, and there is situated one
of the huge naval shipbuilding plants. Huge steam derricks rear their
arms along the masonry walls of the harbour on the left, and in
several places the huge ribs of warships in course of erection
disclose their nakedness. On the wharves could be seen enormous guns
like giant pine logs heaped up ready to be put on board the warships
when ready. Several large men-of-war were in the dock, among them one
that had knocked a few plates off its bottom in running over a German
submarine in the North Sea. Further and further we went until finally
our cable was tied to a huge buoy and we were at our moorings. Orders
were issued that no one was to go ashore, so I slipped a cable for
home, to the Pilot, also a gold sovereign. He said he had no change,
but I told him the change was his. He was the assistant of our big
Pilot. He stared for a minute, then he vanished over the rail like a
blue streak, down the ladder, over the tender, alongside he hailed
another tender that was passing, and before our cable chain was out I
could see him climbing up the landing stairs and I guess he is running
yet. Gold has its fascination here as elsewhere and spells service.
The cable went through all right.
The appearance of the fleet seemed to stir up everybody and the
wharves and quays were thronged all evening. The bugles blow Retreat
on a beautiful spring-like evening, and after the "First Post" the
pipers discoursed those ancient melodies that sounded years ago amid
the brown heath and shaggy wood, and that are now calling the
descendants of those ancient warriors from farm, city and many
peaceful and cheerful firesides to fight for King and Country like
their ancestors, and if need be to die that the Empire may live. The
men sang themselves to sleep that night. I could hear their songs long
after "Lights Out" had sounded.
The voyage was over, and we can thank an All Wise and merciful
Providence that we had all come safely so far. Never did a Commanding
Officer have a finer lot of men than mine. Never did a Commanding
Officer have less trouble--the conduct of everybody was so good. We
would land eleven hundred and fifty-seven strong and only one man
sick. The rest, thanks to continual physical drill, were in the pink
of condition, ready and fit to go anywhere. I had only one regret and
that was that that some of them might never return. Still, the price
of Empire and power, as Bismarck said, must be paid, not in talk nor
treaties, nor promises nor golden tribute, but in "blood and iron."
CHAPTER VII
SALISBURY AND THE STONES OF STONEHENGE
On Thursday, the 14th of October, orders came to disembark. All the
ships of the Canadian fleet were there. We learned that we had been
sent to Plymouth at the last minute and that train transport had to be
provided for us. All kinds of rumours were afloat; one that we were to
go at once to France, disembarking at Rouen, and then by train to the
south of France; others said that we were to go to Egypt; and many
said that was all right, if the Turks got into the war.
I went ashore with Company Sergeant-Major Radcliffe of my regiment,
who is a Plymouth man. It was only when I got ashore that I learned
that his bride-to-be lived in Plymouth. We drove all over the town and
part of the country. This is Devonshire, the country of cider and
cream. I tried them both; they are excellent. It felt good to get
ashore, but the voyage was so pleasant that we were sorry to part with
our good ship and our captain. We found that in England the people had
been very much depressed by the war, but were recovering their
spirits. The shipyards were busy, but there was hardly a home in
Plymouth, Stonehouse or Devonport (three towns in one), but had some
one afloat in the navy, keeping convoy, or keeping guard in the North
Sea. I met the Editor of one of the Plymouth papers, a very fine man.
From him I learned that the Mayor and Corporation of the town had
arranged a public reception for the Canadians, but that Lord Kitchener
had vetoed the proposal. He also told me of the loss of some ships on
the East coast, and some German losses at sea, but said the censor
would not permit publication even of our arrival. We were beginning to
learn that there was a big man somewhere about who was doing things,
and that his address was not far from the War Office. On the streets
we met hundreds of young men route marching, some of them with arms,
some in uniform, the majority without either. They were all singing
"Tipperary" with its Celtic croon and minor tones. So far apparently,
the war had not produced a great war poet or musician, nothing had
been written anything like "Tommy Atkins" or "Soldiers of the Queen."
Surely war songs were not all "Made in Germany."
Every square, and park and private lawn had its quota of soldiers
drilling, all young men and all in deadly earnest. We learned also
that the day we arrived some young men from Quebec, speaking French,
and a Servian from Winnipeg had strayed ashore, and the announcement
was made in the press that the contingent consisted principally of
French Canadians and Servians who were coming to fight for the Allies.
After the war is over I suppose someone will be giving the Chinese all
the credit for what the Canadians did.
So far so good. We remained on board all day. The rivetters on board a
huge Dreadnought, that was being built close by, chalked in huge
letters on the plating a message for us, "Bravo Canadians." Our men,
who were very good with semaphore signals, soon established a wireless
connection with the shore and a very animated conversation was carried
on between them all day. In the afternoon we presented Captain James
with a memento of our voyage, expressing our pleasure in having such a
good commander. We bought him the silver when we got ashore.
The next morning an officer came aboard from the staff, and we learned
for the first time that General Alderson had been appointed to command
the Canadian Expeditionary Force. We could see an officer on shore
with a staff cap, who looked very much like General Hughes, but it
turned out to be Colonel Davidson of Toronto. About noon our ship
pulled into the dock, and the gangways were put out, and
disembarkation began. We were ordered to move in two detachments, so
I gave the right half battalion to Major Marshall with my blessing,
and remained with the left half myself to see that all our stores were
landed safely. We learned a good deal about transporting troops. One
thing that should be looked after in future contingents is to see that
each unit has its own waggons, horses and carts on its own ship. When
we were embarked at Quebec our horses and waggons were taken away from
us. The horses were put on board one ship, the harness on another, the
waggons on another, the wheels on another, etc. It took weeks to sort
everything out, and all the work done at Valcartier had been wasted.
Another thing, the men should not be sent abroad without a good
equipment like the Webb. The Oliver equipment was a joke. With our
facilities for producing good leather, canvas and woollen stuff in
Canada there is no reason why we cannot produce an equipment just as
good, if not better, than the Webb. All ammunition is now packed in
clips in canvas bandoliers holding fifty rounds, and there is very
little necessity for the big ammunition pouches with which equipments
were burdened. An equipment made out of green chrome leather with as
few straps as possible, or out of good stout drab canvas made in
Canada and treated with a solution of soap and alum, so as to make it
waterproof, would do just as well as the Webb. Fortunately our
regiment had been given an excellent Webb equipment and it was
expected the equipment for the rest of the force would be issued in
England. The Division outside of our Brigade had been busy for several
days staining their Oliver haversacks and kit bags with tea and making
a very poor job of it.
The right half battalion shouldered their blankets, kit bags and
knapsacks and started off for the station a mile away. Our rifles were
boxed and would follow us. We left later on at six in the evening. It
was dusk as we marched through Plymouth to the station where we had to
wait an hour for our train to be made up. Soon quite a crowd gathered
at the station, and everybody wanted to give my men bottles of
whiskey and gin. I stopped it as well as I could, but a few who had
not had a drink for two months fell by the wayside, not just then but
later on. We should have tried out our men in Canada, and given them a
free hand, so that the drinkers would be weeded out before coming
over.
Our train came in about eight o'clock and we were told our destination
was Patney Station, and that our camp was near the station. Off we
started and arrived at Patney about one o'clock at night. The men
enjoyed the run very much. At every station as we passed the people
gathered and cheered themselves hoarse till we all thought we were
real heroes. We made only about two stops till we came to Patney, one
at Exeter which is one of the oldest towns in England dating from the
Roman occupation. This city was the Iscea of Vaspasian's time. It was
always a fortified city, previous even to the Romans, and boasts of a
beautiful cathedral.
The other stop we made was at Newton Abbot. Here William of Orange was
first proclaimed King of England, if I remember right, on a stone in
the market square.
At Patney station we found on the station platform Major Marshall and
several officers, among them Captain McGregor. They informed us that
on the way up a number of the men of "A" Company (Captain McGregor's)
had been taken ill, with ptomaine or some other form of poisoning, and
were in a bad way. We suspected at once that some one had handed them
something. We found thirty-five of them down with colic and very
severe pains. Blankets had been laid in the station for them, and Dr.
MacKenzie, our surgeon, did not take long getting busy attending to
them. He informed me that he did not consider any cases serious,
although the poor fellows were suffering much pain. We marched the
left half of the battalion over the track on an overhead bridge, and
found our right half waiting for us, and for transport waggons which
were supposed to be on hand, to take our kit bags and blankets. The
night was as dark as a wolf's mouth and the dim lights of a few
lanterns showed the men standing in solid lines between the green
walls of the hedges of an English lane.
A traction transport arrived and the men began hoisting their kit bags
into the two large vans that constituted this traction outfit. Several
county policemen were on hand to guide us to our camp which we were
told was eleven miles away. That was cheerful. There was no transport
for the kit bags and blankets of my half battalion, so that after a
while Marshall got all his kits aboard and said good-bye and started
off into blank space with his half battalion less the thirty-five sick
left at the station. The pipes struck up bravely, "We'll take the High
Road," the marching-out tune of all Highland Regiments, and soon the
black darkness swallowed up the end of his detachment.
The prospect of a night march of eleven miles was not very cheerful
for the rest of us. We stood about on the road waiting for another
traction engine and waggons to get our kits carried for us. One hour
passed, no transport, two hours, no transport. We heard that our
transport had gone to Lavington station by mistake, and was on the way
back for us. At a quarter to three the officers and non-commissioned
officers decided that we had better start and get to camp carrying our
own kit bags and blankets. The men said they would rather go than sit
around waiting for morning, so a constable with a lantern and a
bicycle volunteered to guide us. I gave the command to shoulder
kit-bags and blankets and we were off. Each man carried his knapsack
and complete equipment, three blankets, a rubber sheet and a kit bag,
full of boots, clothing and all like effects. Some of the men were
carrying fully one hundred to one hundred and twenty-five pounds.
Sergeant-Major W. Grant slipped up alongside of me at the head of the
column, and we marched out into total darkness. At first it was so
dark that a person could almost feel it. The road was firm and flinty
under foot, and pretty soon some one started up "The Army of to-day is
all Right," and everybody joined in the chorus. We set a slow pace,
stepping short and easy so that the end of the column in charge of
Captain Warren could keep up. A wonderful man was young Warren, never
tired, always cheerful, always knowing what to do. We were blessed
with two good field officers in Captains Darling and Warren. At the
end of fifteen minutes we halted between two hedges and rows of tall
trees. The policeman told me the men could sit against the banks of
the hedges, so that first rest was good. In ten minutes we were off
again. The road seemed to wind in and out in serpentine curves. The
land on either side was taken up with truck and vegetable farming.
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. At the first halt a number lit up
cigarettes, and as soon as they started a chorus of coughs showed
where the seductive weed was getting in its deadly work on the lungs
and bronchial tubes. The Commanding Officers passed the word along to
try and not smoke, and not to use the water bottles, and the men did
their best for the rest of the march. About an hour before we came to
our camp we ran full tilt into a traction train and I commandeered it
at once. I turned it around and got the men to load their kit bags
into the big vans, which they did most cheerfully, as this lightened
their loads. When we reached the great Salisbury Plains, after a steep
climb, it was cold and foggy, the kind of weather to take the courage
out of a man, about five o'clock in the morning. It was daylight when
we reached our tents. There was hot tea ready for the men, and it did
not take us very long to roll up in a blanket on the ground and go to
sleep.
I made the eleven miles carrying my great coat, sword and equipment,
and how I blessed my boots. Not a chafe nor an ache, they were just
splendid. From three o'clock till seven ten is not bad for eleven
miles on a pitch dark night. We all knew very little of what happened
for the rest of the day. Captain Donaldson saw that the officers'
luggage was sent in, and by the evening we were quite comfortable, and
had a good sleep on Saturday night.
The first work we did on our arrival at Salisbury Plains was to attend
an open air church service on Sunday. All the photographers of the
London papers were on hand to get snapshots of us. We were warned to
be careful of suspicious characters, and some of the gentlemen with
cameras were questioned closely. We at last had leisure to look about
us. Salisbury Plains, where we had been sent for our training, is in
Wiltshire and is a chalk plateau, high up in the middle of England. It
is noted for its historical associations and its bad climate. Two
great trunk line railways run, one on the north, the other to the
south of these Plains which are fully twenty-five miles from north to
south and twenty-five miles from east to west. Most of the land is
taken over by the Crown for military purposes, but at the cross-roads
there are still small English villages nestling in the hollows, whilst
on the Plains themselves the game and shooting privileges still remain
in the hands of the Lords of the Manor.
The country is very much like the foot-hills of the Rockies near
Calgary in appearance. The slopes are generally to the north. We were
not by any means the first armed men to tread the heath here. There is
no part of England so rich in legend and history. We could see ruins
and monuments on every side.
In the middle of the Downs, within plain view of our camp, there arose
the most ancient ruins in the British Isles, and the most interesting
prehistoric edifice in the whole of Europe--Stonehenge. To speak of
Stonehenge or to try to conjure up its past is to deal with people who
lived on these plains and enjoyed their cruder methods of civilization
and religion in a period more remote than that in which the great
Pyramids of Egypt were fashioned. Here in a circle, about one hundred
feet in diameter, are reared a series of great pillars of granite, a
stone which cannot be found within hundreds of miles from the spot, in
fact the north of France is the nearest. Each slab is about twenty
feet in height and they are fashioned rudely in the form of a temple.
It is said that in the design geometrical figures were used, and that
some sun cult was practised by those who reared them, for the sun's
shadow passes through various points only on Midsummer and on May Day.
The Druids are supposed to have used this as the great shrine of their
faith, and worshippers came from all over Europe every year to take
part in the religious ceremonies. Be that as it may this country must
have been the centre of a very powerful Celtic or British race, for
here and there over the Plains are piled up huge barrows, said to be
the burial places of ancient kings. A barrow or tumulus is about
fifteen to twenty feet high and seventy to a hundred feet in diameter.
A great many tumuluii are dotted here and there over the Plains. The
next people to these Druidical Celts to occupy these plains were
Britons and the ruins of some of their villages are still to be found.
Then came the Romans, and as usual they left their mark. North of the
stones of Stonehenge, about a quarter of a mile, is still to be found
the ruins of a chariot race course recalling scenes from "Ben Hur."
Over one end of the course, oaks, centuries old, have grown. Not far
away, about a mile and half east of Stonehenge, there is the huge
earthwork walls of Vespasians' Camp. From here it is said the Great
Roman General marched to the conquest of Palestine. About four miles
south, crowning a high hill, there are the ruins of Old Sarum, at one
time a Roman City. From the ramparts of Sarum, each of them a day's
march away, can be seen the ruins of seven great Roman Camps. The
Romans occupied Britain about four hundred years, a period more
remote than if we count from now back beyond the Discovery of America.
Everywhere are marks of their civilization, showing that the country
during their occupation must have been rich and populous. No less than
four of their generals left these Plains to assume the Imperial
purple. What stirring times those must have been. Past old Sarum wound
the road to Bath where the rich Romans and Britons were carried by
slaves on their litters to take the medicinal waters of that ancient
well, now found to contain that marvellous nerve-stimulating
mineral--radium. Every stone, every hill on these Plains could tell a
wonderful story.
After the Romans came the Saxons, and good King Alfred was not unknown
to these Plains while he was moulding his Kingdom and driving out the
Danes. The Norman Conqueror then came and took Sarum as one of his
strongholds. And it is admirably suited for defence even to-day. He
established a See or Bishopric at Sarum which later was removed to the
City of Salisbury. Sarum then declined and ran to seed, and was
gradually abandoned. It registered a last kick, however, when its half
a dozen voters, as it was the most noted of the "Rotten" Boroughs, won
immortality by sending to Parliament a young Coronet of Horse, Pitt
the Elder, afterwards Lord Chatham. It then ceased to be anything but
a geographical expression. If you seek the remainder of the history of
this remarkable spot, look for it in Salisbury Cathedral, one of the
most charming specimens of late Gothic architecture to be found in the
world. There you will find the tomb of William Longsword and other
brave crusaders. You will find that Oliver Goldsmith lived in
Salisbury, and there wrote the novel "The Vicar of Wakefield," and
that Gay wrote the "Beggar's Opera," at Amesbury, the village that
lies a few miles east of Stonehenge. But of all that we saw that which
impressed us most were the Roman ruins, recalling the iron discipline
of those unconquerable legionaries, and the great monuments of our
Celtic ancestors, the sublime stones of Stonehenge.
CHAPTER VIII
UNDER FIELD MARSHAL EARL ROBERTS
We had to settle down for a few days to await our arms and equipment,
and in the meantime a meeting of the officers was called by General
Alderson, our Divisional Commander.
The chief topic of discussion was the question of having "wet"
canteens in the lines. The result of the meeting was that they were
shortly installed by contractors for the war office, and gave us a
great deal of trouble, and gave a few men who misbehaved themselves a
chance to get a quick return ticket to Canada.
In spite of temptation on every side, to the credit of the Canadians
be it said they behaved themselves exceedingly well. Fully eighty per
cent. of them were total abstainers. About ten per cent., chiefly the
older men, took an occasional drink, and not more than about three per
cent. drank to any extent. For these latter, life soon became a
burden.
This good behavior followed the troops to Flanders. Shortly after we
crossed and went into the trenches the French Government prohibited
the sale of all spirits to soldiers. Any saloon keeper in France who
sells hard liquor to a soldier is very severely punished. The only
liquor they are allowed to sell to the soldiers is a light beer, about
three per cent. alcohol, which is manufactured in small home-made
breweries at every cross-road and is consumed by the Flemish people in
lieu of the water, which is very bad in the low country, and only fit
for cooking, also a light native wine with about the strength of
ginger-ale, and the taste of vinegar. We found that light beers, wines
and fermented liquors are licensed separately in France from spirits.
This method has given good satisfaction. Strong liquors or spirits are
given to the soldiers only on a doctor's order. There is no regular
issue of rum, and the stories circulated by Jane Adams, a Chicago
Pacifist, and others that the soldiers are filled up with rum and
"dope" to keep up their courage, were deliberate lies as far as the
British, French and Canadian troops are concerned. Strong drink of any
kind was treated as a drug, not as a beverage. The beer and wine sold
had about the same alcoholic content as ginger beer or newly-made
bakers' bread. The army in Flanders was not producing "drunken
heroes." Those who cannot cut out liquor are better left at home. They
are of no value whatever in any war.
[Illustration: ABOARD SHIP IN WINTER GARB]
We also learned, at this meeting, with great pleasure that Lord
Roberts had become the Honorary Commander in Chief of the Canadian
Army, and that in a few days he was coming to review us, as was also
His Majesty the King and Lord Kitchener. We worked very hard to get
into shape for these important events. In the meantime the Minister of
Militia from Canada arrived and visited our camp, also several other
eminent men, among them Mr. R. Reid, who represents the Province of
Ontario in London.
Our lay-out for camp was not as fine as at Valcartier. The tents had
been pitched during the summer and occupied by successive territorial
battalions, and they were not of the thick water-proof cotton canvas
variety that we had in Canada. They were the linen kind such as we
used to have in Canada in the Eighties, and they were so thin you
could count the stars through them, but were all right for summer use.
We were solemnly cautioned not to make any excavations in the turf,
especially ditches around the tents to carry off the rain, or even
holes in the ground in which to build our cooking fires, as the land
is hunted over, and any stray holes in the ground might break a
horseman's collar bone or a horse's leg.
The Division was divided up and put in various camps, about a brigade
in each camp, which were a mile or so apart. The First Brigade under
General Mercer were at Bustard Camp. The Second under General Currie
and the Third under General Turner, V.C., were at West Down South. The
artillery under Colonel Burstall were with the First Brigade whilst
the Cavalry were at Sling plantation, and Divisional Headquarters at
Bustard Camp.
Earl Roberts came out to review us on Saturday, the 27th of October. I
had not seen the hero of Kandahar since the day he marched past the
King, resplendant in the scarlet and gold of a Field-Marshal on the
Plains of Abraham, at Quebec. Since then he had retired from active
duty with the army to devote himself to the cause of National Service.
The important day arrived and the brigades were drawn up in lines of
battalions in mass along the brow of a slope south of our camp.
Battalion after battalion, battery after battery, squadron after
squadron for nearly two miles the line stretched. It was a magnificent
array of men that greeted the brave old veteran in the first review of
the Canadians which proved to be his last command.
On his arrival he was received with the general salute. He then rode
in a big grey car in front of the line, the officers having been all
called out to the front. As he reached each separate battalion the car
stopped, General Hughes introduced the commanding officers, and Lord
Roberts spoke graciously to them. Some of the officers' horses behaved
badly as the big grey car came up to them and some seats were lost
that day, but my big charger behaved splendidly. She looked into the
big car and wanted to poke her nose into it to see if the driver had
any candy or apples. General Hughes, the Minister of Militia, sat in
the seat beside Earl Roberts. Age had dealt very kindly with the
veteran of Kandahar and South Africa. Although a consistent water
drinker, Lord Roberts had a very florid complexion, which was just as
bright and ruddy as that of a subaltern of twenty, despite his extreme
age. This kind of complexion makes it difficult for a man to gain
admission to a temperance club in Canada.
His voice was clear and resonant. "Colonel Currie," he said, "How many
men of this kind have you with you? They are indeed a splendid lot,
and the Empire owes a debt of gratitude to these gallant soldiers for
coming in the hour of need."
I answered, "Eleven hundred and seventy, Sir."
"They are a fine lot and when fully trained should give a good account
of themselves," he said.
I thanked him, and he was gone.
It began to drizzle and rain, and as we moved off we had the first
taste of that disagreeable weather which clung to us until we left the
Plains. Many a time afterwards the lines of R.H. Barham, the author of
"Ingoldsby Legends," came to my mind.
"Oh Salisbury Plain is bleak and bare,
At least so I've heard many people declare,
Tho' I must confess that I've never been there.
Not a shrub, not a bush nor tree can you see,
No hedges, no ditches, no gates, no stiles,
Much less a house or a cottage for miles,
Its a very bad thing to be caught in the rain,
When night's coming on, on Salisbury Plain."
On Sunday, the 25th, the men of the Division heard a sermon from
Bishop Taylor Smith, who visited Salisbury Plain with Dr. McNamara,
M.P.
The London press had been very enthusiastic over the Canadian
Division. The illustrated papers had photographs of the various corps
and officers. Their kindness was very much appreciated.
Lord Roberts issued an Order of the Day, in which he praised us very
highly. He said:
"The prompt resolve of Canada to give us such valuable assistance has
touched us deeply. That resolve has been galvanized into action in
what I consider a marvellously short period of time, under the
excellent organization and driving power of your Minister of Militia,
my old friend Major General Hughes. In less than three months from
the declaration of war I am able to greet this fine body of soldiers
on English soil."
Stirring events were happening in Flanders. About this time we learned
with much regret that Colonel Lowther, who had served on the staff of
His Royal Highness the Duke of Connaught in Canada, had been badly
wounded. Also that Major Rivers-Bulkley of the Scots Guards, who had
also been on His Royal Highness' staff, had been killed. The latter
had, scarcely a year before, been married to Miss Pelly, one of the
Ladies-in-Waiting to Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Connaught in
Ottawa.
The German invaders on the western front had swept on past Liege. A
great battle had been fought at Waterloo or Charleroi, another at Mons
and at Le Cateau. The French Government had left Paris. The greatest
battle in the history of the world had taken place near Metz. The
Crown Prince's Army had been shattered and General Von Kluck's march
on Paris had been stayed at the Marne. Then the Allies had assumed the
offensive, and driven the Germans back to the Aisne. Ypres,
Hazebrouck, Estairs and Armentieres had been retaken on the Western
frontier of Belgium and France. The huge Austrian siege guns, 42
centimetres, had proven too much for the antique concrete of the
Belgian and French forts, but the tide of invasion had been stayed.
A few days later, October 29th, a dinner was given in London by Hon.
Lieutenant-Colonel Grant Morden in the Royal Automobile Club in honor
of the Minister of Militia, Major-General the Honorable Sam Hughes,
and the officers commanding the Canadian contingent. Amongst other
officers I was invited to be present, and the dinner was one of the
most notable I have ever attended. Not so much on account of the
number of prominent men who attended, but because it was the last
occasion in which Lord Roberts spoke in public. Among others present
were Lord Islington, Lord Iverclyde, Sir A. Trevor Dawson, Sir Gilbert
Parker, Sir Joseph Lawrence, Sir George Armstrong, Lord Charles
Beresford, Sir John Curtis, Sir Edward Carson, Rt. Hon. Walter H.
Long, Sir Reginald McLeod, Colonel Sir Edward W. Ward, Sir Vincent
Callard and Monsieur R. Thien de la Chaume of the French Embassy.
The toast to Canada was proposed by Sir Charles Beresford in a fine
speech, in which he referred to the valuable services of the Canadians
in previous wars. The toast was responded to by Sir George Parley,
M.P., acting Canadian High Commissioner. Lord Roberts then proposed
the toast to Major General Hughes. He was very warmly received when he
rose to propose this toast, and was visibly affected by the splendid
demonstration. He spoke with great earnestness for over half an hour.
He first paid a glowing tribute to the Canadian troops that had served
under him in South Africa. When he took command there the first
telegram he sent was to Canada. He then referred to the troops he had
reviewed on Salisbury Plains in warmest terms. He had not thought it
possible that such a fine steady body of men could be got together in
such a short time. He commended the Minister of Militia for having
achieved such splendid results so quickly. He praised the deportment
of the troops the day he had reviewed them in the rain.
He then turned to the subject of the war and reminded his hearers that
they were fighting an enemy that meant business, and the destruction
of the British Empire. He predicted that through their preparedness
they would give us enormous trouble and he warned us that in his
estimation the war would require every man that could be put in the
field. Lord Kitchener had not called for a man too many, and every
effort should be put forward to enlist and train every available man
as soon as possible.
Referring to his travels throughout the Empire, he said that it seemed
to him the people of the Colonies were more appreciative of the
greatness of the struggle and more patriotic than those at home. He
attributed this to education in the schools and regretted that
patriotism was not taught more in the schools of the Mother land, and
the British Flag flown over the schools as in Canada and the other
Colonies.
The audience listened with rapt attention and punctured his remarks
again and again with applause.
The Downs were very suitable for drill and work in open order. The
turf was good and firm, and so far there was no mud or sand. We took
up the new drill of 1914. The battalions for drill purposes were
formed into four companies with four platoons per company.
We had been told that as soon as we settled down His Majesty the King
and Lord Kitchener were coming out to look us over, so we brisked up
as quickly as possible for the big event. We had a rehearsal the day
before. The troops took their positions along the main roads leading
past their respective brigade camps. Our Camp, West Down South,
contained two infantry brigades, ours, the Highland Brigade and the
Second Brigade. His Majesty, Lord Kitchener, Earl Roberts and staff
were to drive up from Salisbury in motor cars, and we were formed up
on the east side of the main road from Salisbury to receive him. The
mounted troops were to form up on the west side. We made a brave show
but some of the battalions were not fully equipped as they had not yet
received their bayonets. The practise was a great success. Major
Beatty, brother of Admiral Beatty, who was officer on General
Alderson's staff, took us all in. A general officer from the War
Office was to have looked us over, but as he did not show up the
genial Major went through the motions, and it was only after each of
the battalions in succession had received him with the general salute
and presented arms as he walked past in front of us, and we had a look
at his badges, that we realized that we had been fooled. Of course as
a Major he was junior to the officers in command of the regiments and
not entitled to the honors, but he took them with a grin and the
rehearsal passed off well.
We had King's weather next day when the King came to West Down South.
The Royal Party came promptly to the minute. There was His Majesty the
King, Her Majesty the Queen and some Ladies-in-Waiting; Lord
Kitchener, the Secretary of State for War, Earl Roberts, Lord
Stamford, Sir Richard McBride and a number of staff officers. We were
lined up and made a splendid showing. The King rode up to the line and
began the inspection of the artillery and the Divisional Cavalry
opposite us. The Royal party was then on foot, and His Majesty greeted
each officer, and then passed through the ranks in and out, speaking a
word here and there to the men. After he had gone over the mounted
troops he crossed the road and started down the line of infantry. The
battalions were in order from right to left. Her Majesty the Queen and
her Ladies-in-Waiting with Sir George Perley followed the King and
Lord Kitchener. In a few minutes they were at the right flank of our
battalion. I received His Majesty with broadsword at the salute, and
was introduced by General Turner, V.C. He asked me about our tartan,
and how many men I had in it. I told him the whole regiment wore the
tartan. He was introduced to the officers and then, with
Sergeant-Major Grant and Lord Kitchener, he started through the ranks.
Some one called me back and I was introduced to Her Majesty, who in a
plain suit of black with a black hat, as she was in mourning, stood
smiling to greet me.
I had not seen Her Majesty since the night of the reception given by
the King and Queen, then the Prince and Princess of Wales, in the
Parliament Buildings in the City of Toronto in 1902. She had not
changed at all and there is no woman in the world who looks the part
of a Queen better than Her Majesty Queen Mary. She looked the front
line of our battalion over carefully. There was not a man there less
than six feet two inches. Youth and intelligence was written all over
them but they stood as if carved out of stone.
"What a fine lot of men" was her gracious comment as she passed along
the line. "And they all look like professional men and students."
A mention of their patriotism in coming to the war, a prayer that they
might be spared to return safely to Canada, and then with a farewell,
and "Good luck to you and your Regiment Colonel," the Royal Party
passed on down the line to the Canadian Scottish Regiment. That
concluded the inspection, and entering the motors they rode off to
Sling Plantation Camp to review more soldiers. Our Brigade had
advanced to the side of the road, and as they passed on they received
cheers that could be heard three miles away. We waited for the return
of the Royal Party and lined both sides of the road and gave more
cheers. That was our last look at Lord Roberts. A few days later he
went to France and died very suddenly at St. Omar while he was
visiting the troops under his old Lieutenant, Sir John French. He died
as he would have wished, within the sound of the guns. Coincident with
his visit there the British had driven the Germans back behind the
Yperlee Canal, where the first Canadian Division was to win immortal
fame.
Those who heard him speak on National Service and the duty of every
man in connection with the war will never forget his earnestness and
fervor. His voice will come ringing down the ages calling men of
British birth to their duty like the voice of Demosthenes, the Greek
patriot, whose constant cry was, "Yet O Athenians, yet there is time.
And there is one manner in which you can recover your greatness, or
dying fall worthy of your Marathon and Salamis. Yet O Athenians you
have it in your power, and the manner of it is this. Cease to hire
your armies. Go, yourselves, every man of you, and stand in the ranks,
and either a victory, beyond all victories in its glory, awaits you,
or falling you shall fall greatly and worthy of your past."
A few days later the officers and men of the First Canadian Contingent
were given the status and rank of Imperial troops, that is to say
British Regulars. This made all the officers, non-coms. and men senior
to officers and non-coms. of the same rank in the Canadian militia or
the Home Territorial forces.
CHAPTER IX
MOULDING AN ARMY
"Escort and Prisoner, Right Turn. Quick March," rang out the voice of
Sergeant-Major Grant at the door of the orderly tent.
Three men, as in file, came marching through the doorway, and as they
reached the camp table at which I sat, the Sergeant-Major continued,
"Halt, Left Turn, Right-Dress."
The men turned smartly, facing me. In the centre stood bareheaded the
prisoner, a young man about twenty-two years of age, on each side of
him a grim old soldier with a drawn bayonet.
An "Orderly Room" is the court which the Commanding Officer holds,
usually in the morning when men are brought before him, charged with
any offences they may have committed, with which the company
commanders cannot deal.
It is a very solemn affair, and is a parade which all the officers of
the battalion, especially those who have men charged with offences,
are supposed to attend. They stand on either side of the Officer
Commanding at "Attention." The Adjutant stands rigid on the right
hand. The Officer Commanding alone is seated.
The Sergeant-Major handed the "Crime Sheet," that is the document in
which the nature of the crime and the names of the witnesses are
stated, to Adjutant Darling, who read:--
"That on December 10th, at 2 p.m., Private John B---- of the 48th
Highlanders was found loitering in the Park at Bournemouth without a
pass. That he became violently abusive on being taken into custody.
Witnesses, Police constables 'J----' and 'D----' of Bournemouth." Then
followed the evidence of the constables taken down in the presence of
an officer at Bournemouth, to the effect "That on Dec. 10th, at 2
p.m., I, Police Constable 'J----,' together with Constable 'D----,'
was patrolling the Park at Bournemouth when I saw Private B---- of the
15th Battalion sitting on a park seat with two young ladies. As was
customary in such cases I asked him if he had a pass. He produced a
pass signed by the Commanding Officer of the 15th Battalion, which had
expired the day before. When we pointed out that Private B---- was
'absent without leave,' he said he expected an extension by wire that
day, from his Commanding Officer. When we told him that it was our
duty to take him into custody, he became very abusive, calling us
'Thick-headed John Bulls,' 'Fat-headed Englishmen,' 'Mutton heads,'
'Blasted Britishers,' etc. He had also abused the English people in
very violent terms." The constables had taken charge of him and handed
him over to the customary escort sent after him from camp.
When the Adjutant had finished reading the "crime sheet," I asked
Private B---- if he had anything to say, and if the charge was true.
He had nothing to say. "It is true."
"How long were you out from England before you joined this Battalion,"
I asked.
"Three years, Sir."
"Do you think that three years' residence in Canada entitles you to
abuse your countrymen, and call them 'fat-headed Englishmen'?" I
asked.
The humor of the situation seemed to strike him.
"I don't know, Sir."
"Well, your pay during your absence will be forfeited by Royal
Warrant, and you are admonished not to use abusive language to your
countrymen again."
"Escort and Prisoner, Left Turn, Quick March, Admonished!" roared the
Sergeant-Major as the prisoner left the room, and the officers all
broke into a hearty laugh.
Of course the Private's name did not begin with B, but this incident
is an example of the spirit that filled the men of the First Canadian
Division. As soon as a man donned the bronze shoulder badge with
"Canada" on it he became a Canadian, and forgot his hyphen. There was
no mention of the British-born, the French-Canadian, or Canadian-born.
These great issues had to be left for discussion and settlement to
those who stayed at home.
As a matter of fact, there was only one pure bred Canadian in the "Red
Watch." He joined as a transport driver at Valcartier. He was a
full-blooded Indian and very proud of it. He had left a family and a
good farm to go and see some fighting for the King. When he came to
see me, he said he knew our regiment would see some fighting and he
wanted to go with us. I asked him if he could handle horses. He said
he could so I put him into the transport to his great joy. A very
humorous incident occurred in regard to him, shortly after he had
reached the Salisbury Plains. He had overstayed his leave one night,
by a few hours, and was promptly taken in charge by the quarter-guard,
who put him in the guard tent.
There was much dismay in the guard-tent at daybreak when it was found
that the prisoner had flown. "Breaking out" or "forcing" a guard is a
serious offence, so when he was found up in the horse lines a short
time later and brought before me at the Orderly Room, matters looked
interesting. His explanation, however, was most ingenious, and given
with such earnestness that we could not help but accept it. He said
that when he woke up before daylight he found himself in a strange
tent. He knew it was time for him to go and attend to his horses, so
he got out as quietly as possible so as not to disturb his comrades,
and had gone about his duties as usual. His story, which was verified,
gained him forgiveness. He proved a very good soldier afterwards, and
at the Battle of St. Julien, when the transport was shelled out of its
quarters at Ypres, and his horses killed, instead of retiring he took
a rifle and ammunition, and found his way four miles down into the
trenches at the salient, where his comrades were battling with the
Huns at close range. He was there wounded, gassed, and taken prisoner.
His name was Lickers, and he certainly displayed all the war-like
qualities of his race.
When we left Canada we expected to spend some time in England
completing our training. Everybody thought that we would be handed
over to a lot of crack English drill instructors, and would be placed
alongside of British regular regiments so as to acquire the proper
polish. This would, no doubt, have been very desirable, but when we
reached Salisbury Plains we found the British War Office in the throes
of evolving what was known as "Kitchener's Army." The whole country
was alive with recruiting committees, bands and patriotic
organizations, and in the music halls the songs were all of the
"Soldier's Farewell" variety.
Every soldier that could instruct was utilized. Officers who had
retired and pensioners were recalled and came gladly. Instead of
providing us with officers to instruct and guide us in our training,
we were asked to come to the aid of the New Army, and we gave as many
officers and instructors as we could spare. Commissions in the new
army were offered freely to non-commissioned officers of the Canadian
Army, and each battalion gave from ten to twenty of their best. These
young men subsequently acquitted themselves with much credit. One of
mine won his Military Cross at the Dardanelles.
One of the most difficult things we had to cope with was discipline.
At first it was hard for the young Canadian who is brought up in a
village or on a farm to realize that he has to obey the orders of his
superior officer, if that officer happens to be a comrade who has only
the day before been given a corporal's stripes. It is doubly difficult
if the command is couched in the language of an order.
On the other hand officers and non-commissioned officers had to be
taught that they must not bully or browbeat their subordinates. We did
not take long to acquire the new discipline. Everybody was willing.
Now that men have to act largely for themselves, the system of
discipline in the British army has been changed. The idea now is that
the men must be taught to obey from a sense of duty, not from fear of
their superiors. Armies have obeyed their leaders from time
immemorial, from various motives. The Roman legions obeyed because of
their regard for their citizenship; the soldiers of Cromwell and the
Japanese from religious motives, the Germans from fear of their
superior officers, and the British and French armies of to-day from
patriotism and a high sense of duty. When a soldier obeys from a sense
of duty he will "carry on" even if his officers are killed or
disabled. His courage is much higher. In previous wars when a
battalion was decimated or had lost ten per cent. of its numbers, it
was not considered a disgrace to retire, but in this war such losses
are not considered. Battalions in the Canadian army have suffered
losses as high as seventy per cent., and have still held their ground
undaunted, and responded most cheerfully to the orders of their
remaining officers to counter-attack and charge with their bayonets.
It took some patience to bring about this discipline. It often took
several visits to the orderly room to teach a man that it was one of
his first duties to try and keep his "conduct sheet,"--that is the
page on the regimental records, which tells of his deeds--clear of any
entries for misconduct.
Another troublesome matter was to teach the men that they could not go
away from camp without "leave" and a "pass," and that it was wrong to
overstay a "pass." When a soldier wants to leave camp he has to get
permission from the officer commanding his company. He then gets a
"pass" signed by the Officer Commanding the Battalion and armed with
this pass he is at liberty for the period named on the pass.
The next big event in which we figured, after the King's visit, was
the Lord Mayor's show. The Canadians were to be represented, and there
was quite a flutter of excitement and much interest as to who should
go to represent each battalion. I gave the honor to Lieutenant Frank
Smith, who had worked very hard and had shown much ability.
The Lord Mayor's show is one of the annual events of London, and we
were all anxious to see it. I had the good fortune to be invited by
Sir Joseph Lawrence to view the procession from a balcony close to
Temple Bar. The procession has been described so often that everybody
knows all about it. The Canadians made a very fine showing. They were
under the command of Colonel Williams. Our Highland detachment, under
Lieutenant Frank Smith, looked exceedingly smart and got a full page
in a number of the London illustrated dailies next morning.
One thing that struck me very favorably in the parade was the way in
which the British regulars covered each other as they marched in fours
along the street. Their rifles formed four ribbons of steel. There was
no straggling.
The battalion soon settled down to a hard syllabus of training and
instruction, beginning with squad drill. It was drill, drill, drill,
all day long, rain or shine, and it was almost always rain.
We were much struck at first by the fact that in England farmers paid
no attention to the rain. They kept on ploughing in rain, that in
Canada would have sent the hired man to the shelter of the barn. After
a while it dawned on us that if they did not plough in the rain they
would not get any ploughing done at all.
Not only did the battalions give their days to drill but after they
got through their squad drill they took two nights a week in training.
All this soon began to get the men in shape.
On Thursday, November 19th, the 3rd Brigade had a visit from Mr.
Rudyard Kipling. I sat at lunch with him and formed a friendship which
I regard very highly. Mr. Kipling is one of the great men of the age,
the first Imperialist of the Empire. He said very nice things about
the Canadians.
On the 27th of November the Canadian Division was reviewed by General
Pitcairn Campbell, Officer Commanding the southern command. The
Division was drawn up in a long line on the Downs and presented a
formidable aspect. It was one of the most inspiring sights I have ever
seen. There was plenty of room on the plains and after we had
performed a number of evolutions we were formed in line miles long and
marched some distance, then formed for an attack upon a ridge crowned
by a number of tumuli. The earth trembled with the tread of the
battalions and the hoofs of the battery horses. Thirty thousand
Canadians in battle array is a sight never to be forgotten. Everything
passed off well, considering the difficulties with which we had to
contend. General Campbell was accompanied by Mr. Walter Long, M.P.
After luncheon he was kind enough to ride over to the 48th and
complimented us very highly on our excellent appearance. The field
training and hard work was working wonders on the men. Every day they
were becoming better soldiers. It was the same with the other
battalions. The officers were in earnest and unconsciously they were
giving to the men under their command just what they needed. In the
ranks there were a number of men born in the British Isles. Most of
the officers were of Canadian birth, and the British-born soldier gets
on magnificently with Colonial officers. Mutual respect was gradually
bringing about efficiency and discipline of a very high order.
There was still much discontent because we were not sent abroad. It
was not as bad with us as with Kitchener's Army. The question
everybody was asking of the men in khaki was "When are you going to
the Front?" It is wonderful how the sight of a uniform acts on the
people's mind. They think that just as soon as a man dons a uniform he
is ready to go to the Front. This re-acts on the men, and with
everyone asking "When are you going to the Front?" they become almost
frantic with impatience. After a soldier has been drilling a while,
however, he realizes there is still something for him to learn. Then
when he gets to the Front he discovers that it is not just knowing
his drill that made him a soldier but the experience of obeying orders
and doing the same things over and over again until he forgets drill
and does the right thing without even thinking.
People who ask soldiers when they are going to the "Front" forget that
it is not the men's fault they do not leave for the Front at once. A
man that had lost a leg and whose left arm had been shattered at the
elbow was invalided home, and he complained to me that because he was
in uniform everybody kept asking him when he was going to the Front.
In November we learned that the arch corsair, the "Emden," had been
caught and put out of business by the Australian cruiser "Sydney,"
after a spirited action in which the latter ship upheld the traditions
of the British Navy. We also learned that while in England the
Canadians were supposed to take a share in the defense of the East
coast in case of a German invasion. On two separate occasions I was
called at midnight and warned to be ready.
I forgot to mention that the Royal Flying Corps had a school at Lark
Hill near Amesbury and that every day the aviators sailed above us. On
several places on the Plains monuments have been erected by the Flying
Corps in memory of officers who had given their lives in the interests
of the new science. Some of the Canadians joined this Corps. Lieut.
Lawson of the 48th, an engineer of ability and experience,
subsequently joined and served in Mesopotamia. One man in our
battalion wanted to join, but when it was pointed out to him that
according to the statistics of the war his chances of being killed in
a Highland Battalion were much better than in a flying squadron, he
decided to stay with the 48th.
Towards Christmas we received an invitation to go to Glasgow and play
football against one of the Glasgow battalions. On Christmas Day a
number of the Canadian oarsmen in the different regiments had a race
for eights in the Thames. We had eight first class men who had
belonged to Canadian fast crews, namely, Lieutenants Alex. Sinclair,
Acland, Bickell, Muir, Taylor, Bath, Wilson and Campbell. The crews
were arranged according to clubs at home. If the crews had been by
battalions I am inclined to think we would have won.
[Illustration: OUR PULLMAN COACH]
Our football team went to Glasgow on New Year's Day and played at
Annie's Land. They played a very strong game but were up against new
rules that penalized them, so they did not win.
The people of Glasgow were very kind and appreciative.
CHAPTER X
HIS MAJESTY THE KING, AND FIELD MARSHAL THE RIGHT HONORABLE VISCOUNT
KITCHENER
"Did they bury him standing on his head, or the other way on?"
We, that is to say, Mr. J.R. Robinson, editor of the Toronto Telegram,
and I stood in Westminster Abbey at the spot in the hallowed floor
where "Rare" Ben Jonson had claimed his foot of ground, and we were
playing "Innocents Abroad" and having some fun with our guide. He told
us that he was a Swiss and that he had shown "Buffalo Bill," "Sir"
Thomas Edison, and other famous Americans about the place.
"I guess they stood him up on his feet," answered the guide.
"Was he the man who wrote the dictionary?"
"I guess that is him," answered the guide. "I understand he was a
literary man."
"Who was this chap Goldsmith? Was he the first pawnbroker, or the man
who invented watches?"
"I think he had something to do with the watches," said our guide,
awestricken by our profound knowledge.
"Who was this Salisbury?" we asked. "He must have been somebody
important to have such a fine monument?"
"He was some rich lawyer chap," was the answer we received. We were
certainly having our money's worth.
We wandered up and down the aisles; beneath whose flagstones rest
Britain's honored dead.
"What strikes me most," said Robinson, "is not the number of tombs and
monuments to the great, but the numberless monuments to nonentities
that by some means have managed to creep into the shadow of greatness,
by crowding upon the tombs of the Immortals in this Holy of Holies,
the Temple of Fame of the British race."
After we had grilled our guide to our heart's content, and fed him
till he almost fainted, we went around to have a look at Cromwell's
monument and the spot in the great hall where Charles I. stood when he
received his death sentence. Poor Charles, whose pictures look so much
like his descendant William of Germany, the Kaiser, who has caused so
much trouble for us all.
Of all the public buildings I have ever seen the great Hall of William
Rufus at Westminster impressed me most. It is of the Norman order of
architecture. The conception and simplicity of the structure is
magnificent. King William announced to the banquetting courtiers,
according to tradition, that this majestic structure was intended as
an ante-room to the great Parliament Buildings which he intended to
rear on the banks of the Thames. The person who reads the poetry of
the stones inwardly curses the careless archer whose arrow cut short
the career of this truly great king, for this is not the only great
structure that "William the Red" conceived and commenced during his
turbulent reign.
The three distinctive monuments of London are, this Hall of William
the Red, the grim dominating lineaments shown in Cromwell's statue,
and the noble well balanced head of the great Clive, the foremost of
Empire builders.
"London Bridge is falling Down" is the marching-out tune of the "Red
Watch," and many other Highland Regiments, although in the Celtic the
words of the song say "Well tak' the High Road." London Bridge had not
fallen down in spite of threatened Zeppelin raids, and from it we had
a good look at the Thames with the magnificent vista of buildings
along the embankment.
The Thames means a great deal to the Imperialist. I have seen the
Missouri River where it joins the Mississippi, the two gigantic
streams forming a symphony of liquid mud, the Detroit River rushing
between two busy cities laden with hundreds of ships representing
liquid commerce, but the Thames,--the Thames represents liquid
history.
There was great joy and rejoicing when we were informed that everybody
was to have a holiday either at Christmas or New Year, and that His
Majesty had decreed that free transportation would be provided for
such as wished a holiday to visit friends. A free trip to any place in
Great Britain or Ireland meant a great deal to our men. The Government
had taken over the British railways on an agreement to pay the
proprietors the amount of the earnings in 1913, during the period the
roads would be under control. The managers of the railways had been
formed into a Board to run the roads, and the whole thing had proved
such a great success that the Government was virtually having the work
done for nothing. In the language of the London _Statist_, this was
"the best bargain" the British government ever made.
The curse of railways is competition. Governments can and have
endeavored to adjust rates so as to cheapen the cost of service and at
the same time put a stop to rate cutting, but there is such a thing as
competition in service or operation which means running too many
trains, where control by the Government ends.
The whole matter, however, turned out to the advantage of the
soldiers. Those of our men who had friends in England chose Christmas
for their holidays. The Scotchmen selected New Year's, and the Irish
chose both and had their way, for what Commanding Officer could deny a
man a two weeks' holiday in the Green Isle when the recipient stood a
good chance of never seeing the home of his ancestors again?
The pipes of the 48th Highlanders played on New Year's Day in Glasgow,
but Scotland was too busy with the war to listen. I spent a few days
in the Hebrides. This is not the place for the description of a tour
in the Highlands. There is something about the Highland Hills that
impresses one very deeply. The peaks are not so majestic as the Saw
Tooth Rockies, the Kicking Horse Range, the Cariboo Mountain, or the
Range of the Agawa Valley on the northwest shore of Lake Superior
which is the most beautiful spot probably in the whole world, but
there is something of solemn grandeur in the Scottish Hills that
pertains to them alone. They are cathedral-like in their majesty. No
wonder they have produced poets and soldiers.
But Scotland was busy arming for the war. Every man of military age
was taking to the field. It required no conscription to send the Scots
to the war. Ninety-three per cent. of the sons of the Scottish Manse
had volunteered and gone, and only the lame, the halt and the blind of
military age remained. If this war continued very long there would be
no Scotch left, except what you get in bottles.
I spent a day in Mull and Iona motoring with a friend who was
enlisting men for the naval service. We stopped at a village on our
return, and while he went off to see a young man, I was sitting in the
automobile opposite a small cottage, at the front gate of which stood
a tall, handsome young woman, with two tiny children clinging to her
skirts. She managed to pluck up courage to speak to me.
"Perhaps you are from the war, Sir?" she said with a wistful look on
her face, and a strong Highland accent.
"My husband is in one of the Highland Regiments, perhaps you have seen
his battalion, the Argyles?"
I replied in the negative, adding that I belonged to a Canadian
Highland Regiment.
"There are only two young men left in this village who have not gone
to the war," she volunteered. "And they will have to be out of here
to-morrow, or they will hear from the women."
"You Scotch women are very hard on the men," I said in a half joking
way; "You are sending them all to the war. There won't be any left.
Why did you, with those two little children, let your husband go to
the war?"
This seemed to stagger her for a moment, then she drew herself up
scornfully and turning on me, with her eyes fairly blazing, she said:
"I am a Cameron, Sir. I would never have spoken to him again if he had
not volunteered to go to the war."
I regretted my remark, and the refrain of the old Jacobite song
recurred to me, "A Cameron never can yield." This is an example of the
spirit of the Highland Scotch people in the Great War.
It should be considered a duty of every person of Scottish blood to
see Scotland and live in it, if only for a short time, and have their
children see "Home." The people of Scotland cannot understand why
Colonials and Americans of Scottish descent to the second and third
generations, especially Canadians, should call Scotland "Home." The
reason is easily explained.
In America we are constantly struggling to attain wealth, social or
political greatness, or else we are busy all the time fighting to
prevent others from achieving success. We were only in Scotland a very
short time when the kindly spirit and homely friendship of the people
give us a new experience. It is like the feeling of good-will that
centres about one's own fireside. As a country Scotland is "Home."
Everyone there from the humblest fisherman to the highest born in the
land is anxious to show you some kindness and make you feel at home.
That is why Scotland is the cradle of soldiers, poets, statesmen and
heroes.
As soon as the holiday season was over the Canadians again settled
down to Field Training. Every morning we started off with our waggons
and enough food to do us for the day. We drilled and fought and put
into effect new lessons in tactics. Particular attention was paid to
musketry, such as training the men and the squad leaders to name and
recognize targets, also to judge distances by practical methods. Every
day we were becoming more efficient.
Before the Christmas holidays I had had the good fortune to be able to
take the "Hythe" Course and certificate in musketry and machine gun
training at Hayling Island. I went there a confirmed adherent to the
old Bisley style of deliberate shooting. I left a convert to the new
British system of musketry that turned out the formidable riflemen of
the First British Army. These soldiers overwhelmed the Germans with
the great rapidity and accuracy of their fire. The Germans would
hardly believe that the British were not armed with automatic rifles.
On the way back from Hayling Island I met with an accident which
luckily had no bad results for me. Accompanied by General Turner,
V.C., and Lt.-Colonel Burland, I was being driven in an automobile
from Salisbury city to Lark's Hill Camp, when the steering gear of the
automobile went wrong and we ran into an embankment, the car turning
turtle. I was sitting in the front seat with the driver, and the
machine, going at the rate of thirty miles an hour, crashed into the
bank. I braced myself, seeing visions ahead of a broken neck and a
sudden inglorious end to my campaigning. But Providence saved me from
even a scratch, although I was projected with such force against the
glass windshield as to smash it to atoms. As the car went over, I had
presence of mind enough to grasp the stancheons of the top, and thus
saved myself from being thrown out over the front of the car. General
Turner, V.C., who was in the rear seat with Colonel Burland, was
buried under the machine, and as I cleared myself from the broken
glass and debris I hear him groan, whilst the automobile hind wheels
continued to revolve as long as any gasoline was left in the
carburettor to feed the engine. We managed to get him out of the wreck
and commandeered another automobile to take him back to Salisbury,
where it was found that his collar bone and several ribs were broken.
He was very cheerful and his only anxiety was lest his injuries might
prevent him from going to the Front. As this book was published while
I was still "soldiering" my lips were sealed as far as saying anything
about my superior officers was concerned. All I dare say is that no
braver, better, truer man than General Turner, V.C., ever lived.
Our field training brought our men along very quickly. They were
gradually becoming seasoned. They had gone into huts at Lark Hill
which they had built themselves, and as these huts were warm and
comfortable life began to be a real pleasure.
About the last week in January Hon. Sir George H. Perley and Lord
Islington paid us a visit at Lark Hill, and we had the pleasure of
their company at an informal luncheon.
Thursday, February 4th, 1915, was one of the greatest days in the
history of the regiment. The previous week, when Sir George Perley and
Lord Islington visited us in our huts and messed with us on soldiers'
fare, the Acting High Commissioner told me that it was probable that
His Majesty the King and Lord Kitchener would be down the following
week to review the Canadian Division and say good-bye. This put
everybody in tune, even the lads who had to stay in England with the
surplus officers. On Wednesday afternoon the field officers spent some
time in going over the review ground, pegging it out, so it will not
be out of place to say a word about the grounds. Lark Hill Camp lies
on a gentle slope facing west, and from the door of my hut I could see
Stonehenge, that mighty monument to the great race that at one time
lived on these plains and raised the enormous tumuli monuments to the
heroes of their day.
The reviewing ground was selected about a mile and a half west of the
camp on the new line of railway which had been built largely by the
Canadians. The stand was placed to face north and the long lines, two
of them stretched away east and west. About a mile south Stonehenge is
visible, and from Signal Mound in the rear of the reviewing grounds
the river and Old Sarum can be seen in the distance. All about the
plains huge mounds raised by the Druidical Celts rear themselves, of
varying sizes, some twenty feet high, others smaller. This must in all
ages have been a great military centre. We are not the first comers by
any means, and this is truly historic ground that has resounded to the
tread of the warrior for thirty centuries. It was fitting that it
should be ground chosen by the King on which to review his Canadian
troops.
The morning looked very uninviting. It threatened rain, sleet and
snow. For a moment it brightened up and then we were ordered to parade
with overcoats in packs, but by the time the troops got to the ground
it was raining heavily and we were reviewed in overcoats after all.
The troops were placed in two lines, at about two hundred paces
distance, the cavalry on the right, then the artillery and the
auxiliaries, then the infantry, three brigades of them, the pick of
the contingent. They certainly looked well as they marched across the
Downs to their appointed stations. The training had had its effect.
They looked much better than at the first review, many of them on that
occasion being without parts of their uniform, and the drill was
rather loose and frayed at the ends.
However, that was an historic occasion for we had Her Gracious Majesty
with us then, as well as the King, and Lord Roberts, whose smile was
so refulgent it was worth the whole voyage to see it.
The King was to arrive at eleven o'clock, and a few minutes before
that hour the whistling of a locomotive was heard as the train wound
its way up and down over the hills of Amesbury. The road was built
along the sides of the hills without any pretence of grading to a
level. It was built by the sturdy Canadians who will leave that
monument behind them on Salisbury Plains, more useful if not more
ornamental or enduring than Stonehenge, the tumuli, or the fallen
ramparts and ditches of Celts, Saxons, Normans or Romans.
The train consisted of two locomotives and two coaches. After a few
moments it stopped and His Majesty and his Staff stepped out and
advanced along a board walk to the platform which had been erected for
him to stand on, and over which the Royal Standard was then floating.
As he took his place on the stand, a trumpet sounded and as one man
the troops came to the salute. Each double line was over a mile in
length. His Majesty and Staff, accompanied by General Alderson and
Colonel Seely, M.P., now the new Cavalry Commander, started down the
first line to the left, then back up the front of the second line to
its right. The officers commanding units dismounted as His Majesty
left the stand.
My regiment was the second from the left in the second line. His
Majesty walked between the line of officers and the front line of men.
The most prominent figure on the Staff was Lord Kitchener, who, wonder
of wonders, wore a smile like a summer morning. As His Majesty
approached the left of the regiment, I met him, saluting. He shook
hands with me, and I took my place on his left hand. He asked me very
kindly about the health of the men and expressed great pleasure to
know that we had almost recovered from the terrible epidemic of
influenza and of la grippe that had affected the troops. I assured him
that the men did not grumble, they considered it part of their work
and were quite content to "do their bit" for His Majesty and the
Empire. He repeated that it was altogether too bad that the Canadians
had had to put up with disagreeable conditions, but they were going
abroad in a few days, and he felt sure they would distinguish
themselves. He then shook hands with me, bade me good-bye and wished
myself and the regiment "good-luck." Lord Kitchener then shook hands,
and with a "Good-luck to you and your fine regiment, Colonel," they
passed along to the next battalion. Several of the other officers on
the Staff shook hands and chatted for a moment.
His Majesty looked greatly improved in health, and seemed in better
spirits than the first time we saw him at West Down South. On that
occasion he was showing the effects of the hard work he had been
giving to the Army--here to-day, miles away to-morrow. But those first
strenuous days were over. The war was well in hand. The measure of the
Germans had been taken, at sea as well as on land.
When the war broke out the one thing the people dreaded was lack of
efficient leadership. No one imagined the King would be the strongest
and best King the Empire had ever seen. To him alone is to be ascribed
the wonderful political solidarity of the British people. The masses
always had a latent feeling that King George would make a great King.
His Majesty returned to the stand, and we marched past in double
lines, the cavalry eight deep in fours, the artillery two guns
abreast, the infantry in double lines of fours, eight men abreast.
Then they defiled along the railway four deep to cheer His Majesty as
his train passed. The bonnets were placed on the muzzles of the rifles
and the men cheered like mad. His Majesty stood at the window of the
Royal Coach and waved farewells, and the second review by the King was
over. I heard the men say how much they regretted that Her Majesty had
not been there, for we enjoyed her first visit very much, and the
interest she took in the soldiers.
The frills are now all over and it is get ready to entrain and cross
over to France.
It was a great pleasure to learn from time to time that the officers
that went to Valcartier supernumerary to our establishment and were
transferred to other corps were getting along well. Lieutenants Smith
and Ian Sinclair had gone to the Royal Highlanders of Canada,
Lieutenant Bell to the 17th Battalion. They all subsequently
distinguished themselves in France.
At Salisbury Plains Captain J.W. Moffatt was transferred to our
Battalion as Chaplain. He immediately joined the officers' training
class and qualified as a combatant officer so that if need be he could
transfer to the effectives in Flanders. He was a great favorite with
us all.
CHAPTER XI
OFF FOR FRANCE.
"Sir! There is a cup of coffee ready for you, and your horse will be
at the door in fifteen minutes."
I had thrown myself at ten o'clock on my cot, fully equipped for the
first march on the way to France, and had slept soundly till roused at
twelve forty-five by a knock on my door, followed by the voice of the
orderly room sergeant.
I went to the door of my hut and looked out. The night was dark as a
wolf's mouth. The stars in this northern latitude sparkled with
unusual brilliancy.
On the evening of the 9th, I had been asked to go to the Headquarters
of the Third Brigade, where General Turner, V.C., had informed me that
my regiment would march out for France on the 11th.
There was great glee when this became known. The tents hummed with
bustle and activity. Everybody got busy polishing and packing up. The
spare kits and kit bags were to be left at Salisbury. Many of them
would never be claimed.
It seemed almost impossible for us to get ready in time. We had not
yet learned to march on an hour's notice, but we were told to cut down
our baggage to the regular allowance.
We were not sorry to leave England for we had spent many disagreeable
hours on Salisbury Plains with rain a dozen times a day, mud varying
from ankle to knee depth, wet clothing and poor tents.
A few undesirables had crept into our Force at Valcartier where they
had not been confronted with the wet canteen evil. When these chaps
got to England they broke loose and had to be sent back to Canada.
They should have been put through the wet canteen test before they
sailed. It would have saved Canada a great deal of money. These men
caused a lot of talk about the Canadians in London.
London was the Headquarters of a German lie factory and all kinds of
yarns were circulated there about us. For instance, it was told about
the Princess Pats that when they went to Flanders they failed to hold
their trenches and had to be brought back to London and hidden away
"somewhere" to cool their nerves. This was a shameless lie about one
of the grandest corps ever raised for the British army, a corps that
in holding the "warm corners" in the British line in six months had
casualties of over 2,700 men, or about three times its effective
strength. The deeds of this gallant corps at Ypres and St. Eloi will
live forever in song and story, and the names of Lt. Colonel Farquhar
and other gallant leaders will not be forgotten in the future annals
of the British Army.
The people of Salisbury were sorry to see us leave for we had spent
much money in the town.
The day before we marched out I had visited the city to pay up our
bills, see about the storage of baggage and kits, and pay a visit
before leaving to the ruins of old Sarum.
Contemplation of these stupendous ruins of a great people recall the
fact that it was the Huns that destroyed the civilization of Greece
and Rome. Always when the Hun absorbs sufficient civilization from his
neighbor to make him efficient in the art of war he becomes seized
with a military mania, the madness of Thor, and he seeks to destroy
the civilized efforts of ages. Replacing nothing he thus plunges the
world into darkness and barbarism. He destroyed the Graeco-Roman
civilization and the world reverted to utter darkness for four
centuries. Then Charlemagne came and there was a renaissance of
civilization and law, and literature. Education and the arts again
flourished, but after him came again the conquering Hun and then
followed another long era of darkness and barbarism.
I rode out in front of the battalion and could just distinguish the
dark outlines of two companies. The other two were getting ready and
would march two hours later with Major Marshall in command.
With me was the Quartermaster, Captain Duguid, the Adjutant, Captain
Darling, the Transport Officer, Captain Jago, and most of the train.
We had a little difficulty in getting the men moving. I asked the
transport officer the number of vehicles and animals and he told me he
had eleven waggons. I rode to the cross roads, halted the regiment and
ordered the transport to lead, counting them.
When I ordered the regiment to march, Captain McGregor's hoarse
command "Form fours! right! left wheel! Quick March!" from the
darkness, set the column in motion.
I took a final look at Lark Hill Camp and Salisbury Plains. The lights
here and there on the Downs showed a glimmer of life. We had spent
some happy days in the Lark Hill huts, the happiest we had spent in
England.
I carried an electric torch in my hand and led the way. There was a
slight frost that made the muddy road better for marching. The
adjutant rode ahead to look after the transport, and Sergeant-Major
Grant strode at my saddle bow. My horse kept dancing all the way on
his hind legs, as if he too was glad to leave and anxious to be over
in France. Soon in the distance ahead gleamed the lights of Amesbury,
and after a while tall firs closed on either side of the road as we
passed the gates of the Manor House of Amesbury.
These gates were built over a hundred years ago and were designed by a
celebrated architect Inigo Jones.
In an hour we were at the station. As we approached I rode ahead into
the station yard and found that our train had not yet arrived. The
regiment marched on the entraining platform, and on looking over the
transport I found that my spare riding horse, which was lame and
carried my saddle bags, had been left behind on the roadside. I sent
Private Gold, one of my orderlies, back to look them up, with
instructions to bring them along with the second half of the
regiment.
Our train was half an hour late, but when it backed in it did not take
us long to load. The English open cars are coupled up close, and the
open waggons that take our transport are all loaded from the end of
the train the way circus waggons are loaded in America. We entrained
horses and waggons in forty minutes. We startled the train people so
that they all came to see me when we had finished to tell me how fast
we had loaded. The railway transport officer came to my compartment
and told me that he had been loading troops for four years there and
he had never seen such a fast clean piece of work.
We had to sit for fifteen or twenty minutes before the train moved, as
we were ahead of time. Our destination had not been given us. It was
very cold in the compartment as there was no steam available, but the
train rushed along, and soon we were in Salisbury. On we went west.
Fortunately a long course of travel in Canada had given me the habit
of sleeping sitting in my seat, and I took advantage of it. At dawn I
woke up and found we were nearing Bristol of which Avonmouth is the
seaport.
We arrived at our port of embarkation about seven in the morning. The
green fields glistened with hoar frost and the distant hills seen
through the haze were covered with snow. Through the gaps of the hills
here and there could be seen the mounting flames of great blast
furnaces. This is the region of coal and iron.
When we reached the station we could see the harbor filled with
transports waiting to carry our Division to France.
I disembarked and asked for the R.T.O. who is the official in charge
of the handling of the troops. I found that he was uptown having his
breakfast. We had to wait about fifteen minutes till he arrived. Then
he was apologetic and said he did not expect we would be on time. He
then got busy calling for a fatigue party to unload the transport, but
after he had blown off a little steam I pointed out to him that the
fatigue party was waiting at the head of the column, and had been
waiting for him for a quarter of an hour, and that they wanted to be
shown to the unloading platform. Then he took a tumble that we "knew
our job," and from that time on sugar could not have been sweeter. He
told us that our transport was the _Mount Temple_, and showed me the
ship, and in a very few minutes we had the men on board. They soon got
busy and had the waggons slung into the hold. We found that on the
evening before the five-inch gun battery and one unit of an ammunition
column under Major McGee had gone on board. They had stowed the big
guns in the lower hold, and they had enough lyddite stowed forward to
insure a perfectly good explosion provided a submarine plugged us with
a torpedo. Our adjutant and the steward soon had us in our cabins.
A couple of hours after we embarked Major Marshall came along with the
left half battalion and reported a very successful entraining. The
railway company, however, had provided a train with one coach too few,
and four horses and eight mules had to be left behind to be brought by
the next train. They were in charge of Sergeant Fisher, my transport
sergeant, who was a very good man, one of my best non-commissioned
officers. Sergeant Gratton, who had been my transport sergeant, took
ill before we left Lark Hill. He had to be left behind eating his
heart out like a lot of other good officers; non-commissioned
officers, and men that I would have liked to have had with me, viz.,
Lieutenant Davidson, who had bronchial trouble and a bad knee,
Lieutenant Lawson had bronchial trouble and a bad throat. Captain
Marshall had pneumonia, Lieutenants Campbell, Kay and Wilson each had
a touch of pneumonia. Lieutenant Art. Muir was recovering from
bronchial pneumonia. Capt. Musgrave and Lieut. Malone, good steady
officers, had to remain with the base company. Lieutenants Acland and
Livingston had been sent several weeks before to help drill "Details"
and reinforcements for the British troops in France, and they were
both at Falmouth working hard putting some polish on the English
Tommies. I wrote General Alderson before I left, asking him to let me
have Lieutenants Acland and Livingston back, but got "no" for an
answer. They were sent to Falmouth while I was in Glasgow at New
Year's. If I had been in Camp I would not have parted with them.
[Illustration: 48TH HIGHLANDERS AT CHURCH SERVICE UNDER FIRE
NEAR MESSINES, REV. F.G. SCOTT OFFICIATING]
We got through loading early in the afternoon and later on the mules
arrived in charge of Sergeant Fisher and were safely tucked on board.
I had a little trouble keeping people off the dock who were intent on
handing liquor to my men.
We were pretty well crowded up and I was informed that this ship had
been wrecked once, but the good old C.P.R. flag was floating at the
mast head and we took that for an omen of good luck, and it was.
During the afternoon I told the men off to the life-boat stations and
received the cheerful information that the ship was short a few life
belts. I intended to have carried an inner motor cycle tube for my
personal use, but forgot to take it along, so would have had to take
my chances on a hen coop or a hatch if anything had gone wrong.
The men were in great good humor. They were singing like larks. Some
of them had left newly married wives at home in England. One at least,
one of my best men, was too much married as he had left two wives
behind. He had joined the regiment in Toronto and had given his
separation allowance to a wife in Paisley. When we got to Salisbury
another woman wrote from Glasgow saying she was his wife and claiming
the allowance. In an unfortunate moment he had taken a trip to Paisley
and wife No. 1 had pounced on him while he was visiting wife No. 2 and
there was a scene. She wrote to me threatening to have him arrested
for bigamy. I saw this would not do as there were three interests
demanding satisfaction. First, there was his duty to the King. It had
cost a lot of money to train him and bring him so far. He would be no
use to the King in gaol for bigamy and would be only a further expense
to the country and a good soldier would be lost to the service. So I
suggested to Wife No. 1 that she leave him alone till after the war if
he gave her an assignment of his pay of twenty dollars a month. Like a
sensible Scotch woman she saw the wisdom of Solomon in my suggestion
and accepted it. Wife No. 2 received the separation allowance and the
King got the services of a first class soldier and all three interests
were satisfied.
We embarked for France with not a dozen men in the regiment with
entries on their conduct sheets. A better behaved lot of men it would
be hard to find. We had succeeded in instilling in them the iron
discipline of duty which was to prove better than the discipline of
fear. It was Napoleon who said, "Show me the regiment that has the
most punishments and I will show you the regiment that has the worst
discipline." He was right.
We sailed during the early hours of the morning. I got up early and
after some breakfast went on deck. Colonel Burchall Wood of the
Divisional Staff had joined us on the previous afternoon, and as he
was my senior officer I reported to him, but he said he preferred to
be my guest and for me to take command. The Captain who was a Welshman
named Griffith told me he wanted a guard of fifty men fore and aft
with loaded rifles to look out for submarines. We also mounted two
machine guns on the bridge so we pitied the submarine that would come
along. The _Mount Temple_ could make ten knots in calm weather and the
Captain told me that he intended, if a "sub." showed up, to go for it
full tilt and run it down.
By ten o'clock we were well out in the British channel. The Welsh
Hills were covered with snow and it was a delightful day, hardly a
ripple on the surface. Two destroyers, Numbers "1" and "2," kept doing
"stunts" back and forward ahead of us all day.
Before dealing with France or anything further, I desire to say that
the Canadian Ordnance Officers were very hard worked and had to make
"bricks without straw." The death of Colonel Strange made a vacancy
which should have gone to Captain Donaldson, a Canadian, my
Quartermaster, and no better or more experienced officer ever served
the King.
A British officer, however, was called in to do the work. The
difference between a British officer of the old school and the
Canadian is that when the former is confronted with some work he says,
"I'll call my man," that is a non-commissioned officer with a "red
tape" training, to do the job. The Canadian takes the responsibility
himself and sees that the matter is attended to.
The first evening was bright and clear and I tried my field glasses on
the stars. The Captain told me the barometer was falling and that we
were likely to have a change of weather.
The thirteenth is generally a tough day with everybody and this was no
exception. I was aroused shortly after daylight by a loud noise, the
banging of furniture and the sound of dishes rattling. Sure enough we
were having a storm. The first officer was in the hall. His room was
opposite to mine and he was trying to get in, but the drawers and
chairs in his room had piled up against the door. I asked him what was
wrong and he said he wanted a surgeon as he had hurt his leg. One of
the boats had got loose and while fastening it he had his leg jammed.
The boat had been carried away. The ship was going like a pendulum,
swinging nearly forty-five degrees every jump. One minute I looked
down on Major Marshall who was in the top bunk over on the opposite
side of our cabin, the next minute the curtains on his bunk hung
straight over my head. Then the ship would take a turn and stand on
her head, and the roar of the screw told us there was still plenty of
steam in the boilers. Then the screws would submerge and the shock
would send a shiver all over the ship. We were in the "chops" of the
channel all right. It looked as if the storm would get us if the
submarines did not. I told the first officer that the doctor was in a
room in the sick bay, and he was helped away limping along the deck.
Captain Frank Perry came along as cheerful as a morning in June. He
was Officer of the Day and a first class sailor. He came to my room to
report that there was a big gale outside, that the men were all right,
very few sick, that an artillery horse had broken out of his stall and
that he was down and likely dead; also that the waggons were loose in
the hold forward with one or two waltzing around. While he was telling
this he had to sit on the floor of the cabin. He had split his oil
cloth coat up the back, and a stray door speeding the parting guest
had slammed on a very tender part of his body, making it difficult for
him even to sit down. I laughed till my sides ached.
The admiralty stevedores had stowed the waggons in the hold and a mess
they had made of it. I asked him if the big guns were lashed down,
fearing that if one got loose in the lower hold it would go through
the side of the ship like paper. He assured me that the big gun
lashings held, and I ordered him to get a fatigue party and get baled
hay and dump it among the waggons to stop the riot, then to lash the
waggons. He departed on his errand.
The steward brought me in some Bovril and biscuits, and Major
Marshall, who also kept to his bunk on my advice, began feeding upon
hard tack to get into trench practice. Bye-and-bye Perry came back and
reported that Sergeant McMaster had fallen and broken his arm. Capt.
MacLaren was up and he was a good surgeon and hastily set the injured
limb. The sergeant had fallen and struck his elbow on the iron deck.
The men were all wearing their English boots with heavy iron nails in
the soles and they did not hold well on a steel deck. I took a few
looks out at the sea and it was a daisy. I saw the Captain who came in
and reported very bad weather, but he hoped to clear Cape Ushant.
Captain Perry reported that the ship was making about half a knot an
hour sometimes, sometimes not making anything, wouldn't steer, and
half the time in the trough of the sea, if there was any trough to be
found, for a cross gale had turned the sea into pyramids. He also
informed me that everything had been made fast, that the men were
cheerful and that there were no German submarines in sight, and the
storm continued with terrible violence all day. The destroyers had
sped as soon as we had left the British Coast. Several times during
the day the ship took to her beam ends and the crew thought she would
not come back, but she did. I took a bite in bed and stayed there all
day. Perry looked after the rations and feeding of the men.
I woke up about seven the next morning and still the ship was
swinging. Captain Perry came in to say that they had made a good
night, another boat had gone by the board and also a bit of the rail.
The horse belonging to the artillery was dead. About nine o'clock I
got up, and at ten went the rounds of the ship and saw the Captain who
told me we were bound for St. Nazaire in Western France. This place
had been used as a British base before the retreat of the Germans from
the Marne.
The weather moderated during the day, and on going the rounds I found
the men cheerful and that most of the horses had been moved into the
centre of the ship which was some improvement. My horses were all well
except the big mare whose leg still gave her trouble. In the afternoon
the sun came out and it got so warm that we could go about without
overcoats. We were 300 miles south of Salisbury Plains. No wonder the
swallows follow the summer. We were not as low yet as the latitude of
Sault Ste. Marie. What would it be when we got to the latitude of
Toronto?
During the day several ships passed us going in the opposite
direction. They were all tramp or troop ships. I forgot to say that
the first day out near the Irish Coast we saw a great three-masted
full-rigged ship in the distance. She was a magnificent sight with all
sails set. What a great sight a fleet of these sailing vessels must
have presented in the days of Nelson. Now ships only showed low black
platforms and smoke stacks. No novelty nor romance about them.
In the evening the Captain said we would soon see the light houses on
the French Coast. As soon as it became dark we could see in the sky
the double flashes of a great light at Belle Ile forty miles away.
This is one of the most wonderful lights in the world. The sea was
still high, but we were making good time. The Captain told me we would
not make the harbour till the following afternoon at four o'clock when
the tide was up. We came into the estuary of the Loire and halted,
waiting for a pilot. Then the ship began to roll in earnest. I was up
on the bridge with the signalmen, and one minute we were up in the air
and the next the black sea yawned beneath us. I had my sea legs by
this time. There were two or three lights bobbing about and a very
powerful lighthouse light cast a baleful gleam every five seconds. The
officer of the deck said we were about twenty miles from our
destination and that we would hardly get in until after four in the
morning when there was high tide, and if not then, not until the
afternoon. Bye-and-bye we saw a light bobbing up and down in the swell
and he said that was the pilot. He missed the ship the first round but
came about to lee, and in the dim light we saw a cockle shell of a
boat with two men in it. In a few minutes a line was thrown to them,
the ladder was let down over the rail, the pilot grasped
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