leave to recuperate, and spent it at home. I was recalled for service
at the end of the month to my delight, as I wanted to see some more
fighting. I was attached to the 2nd Battalion of the 10th Liverpool
Scottish, and we were detailed to go to France.
"THE FIRST OF THE TANKS"
BY SERGT. M. L. NICHOLSON
RUSHED out of the pleasant atmosphere of an English hospital into
France, thence to Arras, to help extend the British front, was my next
little bit of adventure. Arras at that time was a sort of resting
place, as the fighting there was not half so severe as at Gallipoli,
and besides it was held on a fifty-fifty basis, the Germans holding
one-half the village and the British the other.
Vimy Ridge, nearby, and Arras were well sown with mines, and this being
known to the enemy, we were not molested by surprise attacks as we
otherwise would have been. Close upon Arras stood Devil's Wood, a point
of vantage to whichever side could hold it. It was a much sought after
place and had recently been wrested from the British. It was up to the
newcomers, mostly from the 1st King's Liverpool Regiment, to regain it.
Needless to say we did this thoroughly and kept on advancing to Fleurs.
At this stage of the game a great surprise was sprung on us. We were
keyed up to the highest point, ready for battle, and it was to be our
first attack on Fleurs, when of a sudden we were drenched by a deluge
of tear shells. A tear shell is one of the meanest of all shells as it
gives out a poison that causes the tear ducts to turn almost inside out
and the tears, which continually flow, change to a sickly looking green
fluid. On top of that, we were also treated to a breakfast of liquid
gas and, believe me, I got my fill on that memorable morning.
To make sure that I was "out" for good, a stray piece of shrapnel found
its way through my helmet and opened a three-inch scalp wound which
I had received, as a souvenir, from a Turk at the Dardanelles. The
photograph shows how my helmet suffered.
The gas attack in the morning temporarily blinded my right eye.
However, all these minor affairs did not occur until after I had
witnessed the greatest surprise of the war.
[Illustration: SERGT. NICHOLSON, SHOWING HIS WOUNDED SKULL AND HELMET
WORN WHEN WOUND WAS RECEIVED]
It was at the "Zero Hour," and we were nervously awaiting the word to
go over, when five huge, lumbering monsters crept forward from our
lines. Could this be a bad dream, or were we seeing things. But look!
They are spitting fire! They don't stop! Down into a trench and over
they go. Barbed wire is like a spider's web to them! God! how they
travel, these animated blocks of steel. They look like caterpillars or
frogs. They look like every living thing that crawls, and the enemy's
shells fall from them like water from a duck's back. Onward they go and
we are told to follow them. The rest is history. They were the first
five "tanks" used in the war and, at once, were recognized as the most
terrible of all engines of destruction. Their presence revived our
fellows as though an electric current had passed through them. These
first "tanks" were a symbol of our strength and determination to win
and when we saw them sweep forward majestically, literally eating up
the Hun devils, my heart was glad, and the pain of my wounds vanished.
The boys now had a fighting chance against the wicked machinations
of the foe. We had gone the enemy one better, at his own game of
inventions, and Victory was only a question of building more "tanks"
behind which the infantry could find shelter in the attack.
THE SUNSHINE OF THE TRENCHES
BY SGT. E. D. G. AYLEN, NO. 475337, P.P.C.L.I. ("PRINCESS PATS")
C.E.F.
I HAD just returned from a long summer's work on a surveying party, on
the Canadian Pacific Railway, and everybody in my home town, Montreal
(that is, the men), were all dressed in uniform, and the women seemed
to be looking at me, and at first I felt uncomfortable and wondered why
they stared at me. Then I realized that I had just returned from the
brush of the great Canadian northwest. I knew, of course, that there
was a war on, and the boys were going over, but for the moment, on my
arrival in town, forgot.
The boy friends whom I chummed with were overseas, and my blood began
to boil. I was then nineteen years of age, and was quite eligible
for service. After a few days at home, I announced, to my mother and
father, that I was going overseas. Both objected and said that I should
take out a commission. That did not suit me, and I thought of the
quickest way to get over.
On my way to "McGill" one morning I stopped to talk to two boys in
uniform. I asked them how they liked the army and what unit they
belonged to. One said:
"Army life is great. We are 'University' boys to reinforce the famous
'Princess Pats,' and I believe it is the quickest way over." That
was just what I wanted, and I asked the boys to go with me to the
recruiting office, which they did.
Corporal Coate was there to greet us, and it was not long before
I was signed up. After all sorts of questions I was given a small
slip of paper with my number on it (No. 475337) and a hat badge with
"Universities Overseas Company," and on my shoulders were letters that
read P.P.C.L.I. ("Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry"). I had
heard all about the famous "Pats" and was of course glad that I was to
be one of them.
It was September 28, 1915, that I was sworn in as a soldier and I
felt fine. We trained in Canada, at McGill University, for two months
and had it not been for the war I would have been well on my way as a
student of that university. We had guard work to do, physical training
and route marching; then word was passed around that we were to go
overseas and we were all delighted, as none of us wanted to be "Home
Guards."
On November the 15th, we left Montreal by train, amid the cheering
crowds of our friends, sweethearts and mothers. Two days after we
arrived at Halifax, where we embarked at 5 P.M. on the _S.S. Lapland_.
The people in Halifax were there to mail letters or postal cards for
us, which we threw from the steamer.
At 7 P.M. we set out on our long voyage, and, as the boat steamed out,
the band on the deck played "When the Roll is Called Up Yonder I'll be
There," but the funny part was, that every member of the band was about
sixty years old, and we knew he "wouldn't be there."
We had eight good days going over and all enjoyed it, except a few who
treated the fish in the ocean.
The latter part of November we arrived in England at Plymouth, and,
in the rain, embarked on a train to our training camp at St. Martin's
Plain near Shorncliffe. As you know, we trained there, but that will
not interest you as much as our time in France, so I will skip that to
the day we sailed for France.
At 4 A.M. we all fell in and the roll call was taken. We marched to
the train, after having our pay book made up to date. We never forgot
the pay book or the dinner call. A thing that all the boys noticed was
that we were to cross the channel from Southampton on the _S.S. Duke
of Connaught_, a fitting place for "Princess Pats." Other boys said
that was luck. It was for some of us. We arrived at Havre, France, and
in the rain marched seven miles to a camp called the Central Training
Camp, where we spent a few days receiving instructions in modern
warfare.
After the few days in camp we marched seven miles back again to Havre,
and proceeded by train by Poperinghe in those beautiful Pullman cars,
marked 40 men--8 horses.
We arrived at Poperinghe at 5 P.M., after spending all night, and part
of the next day, in the cars. As we came nearer to our station we could
hear the shells bursting and the booming of the guns. One could see
nothing but heads stuck out of the car windows just as far as craning
necks could stretch.
Arriving at Poperinghe we met a lieutenant who asked the sergeant:
"Are you for the 'Pats'?" the sergeant replying, "Yes, sir." In a very
English way the lieutenant said:
"Oh, very well, follow me. I know where the 'Pats' are, as I was sent
for you."
Well, we followed him. He took us four miles the wrong way and back
again--then we had an extra two miles to the "Pats" quarters. He knew
where the "Pats" were all right, all right.
Now we are with the regiment and I was put in No. 3 company under Major
Charlie Stewart, who was one good fellow. The regiment was out for
rest, but we worked every night going up the line to do work in the
trenches, and help the engineers.
Now to tell of one or two little experiences in the front line, say
about the time of the "Third Battle of Ypres." The regiment held the
line at Hooge and we were all University men, as the old regiment was
practically all wiped out, except a handful. Our major was well liked,
and a word from him was well obeyed.
A few days before the big show I was sent out on a scouting party of
twelve, with Lieutenant Fife in charge. We succeeded in getting over
to the German wire, and I don't know whether the Germans got wise to
our coming, through the sneezing of one of the party, or whether the
clipping of the wire was heard. But we were greeted with, first a rifle
shot from a sniper, then a bomb; then a dozen, but only two of the boys
were killed. We moved further up the line and a little closer to
"Fritzie's" line. There we remained quiet for a few seconds. I, being
near Lieutenant Fife, was asked by him to follow, which I did. He went
up to a part of the Hun's line that was built of old sand bags, where
we could look right up the German line, as the star-shell burst and lit
up the place.
[Illustration: MEMORIAL DESIGN IN HONOR OF LT. COL. FARQUAHAR,
P.P.C.L.I.]
As everything was quiet, the boys were anxious to start something, so a
few bombs were hurled in, but in return we had the same amount, and had
to return to our own lines minus two of the boys.
It was on a working party that some fun occurred, as it always does in
the trenches. We were moving from the road, to proceed up the "China
wall," in the Ypres salient, which led to the trenches, running through
the shattered village of Hooge, when the sergeant-major said to me:
"Aylen, special duty, step out."
I thought, "I wonder what is coming now."
After he had the number of men he wanted, and all the other boys were
up the line, he called me and pointing to twelve large thermos soup
tanks, said:
"See those, Aylen?"
I said, "Yes, sir."
"Well," he said, "take them up the line."
I looked at him and then at the tanks and said:
"Shall I take them all up at once, or one at a time?"
He gave me one look and said, "Don't get funny, this is a soft job for
you."
I said, "But I can't carry those up."
He said, "You must."
Now the soup tanks were about four feet high and about a foot in
diameter.
I said again, "Sir, I can't carry that up."
He, a little angry, said, "You must."
I said, "I can't carry it--it is bigger than I am."
Then he said, "Well, a man is to help you."
So he sent a man, whose name was Cleary, an Irishman, about six feet
two inches tall, and as I was only five feet five inches, it was going
to be rather awkward for us both, as you have to put a long pole
through the loops on each side of the tank, and put the pole on your
shoulders. The tank hangs in the center. Cleary being taller than I,
and the trench mats very slippery we had "one ---- of a time." I was
getting the worst of it. We slipped and stumbled and spoke about a
hundred different kinds of "swear words." Now the "China wall" ends
about half way up, and we then stepped down into the trench. Just about
twenty feet away from the end of the "China wall" there was a large
shell-hole and our trench mats, which are made of wood, went across one
side of the shell-hole. When the shell-hole is full of muddy water the
trench mats float. This night Cleary and I happened to pass it when it
was full. It was very dark and I did not notice that the mat was loose,
as I was leading, so upon putting my foot on the mat, down it went.
The hole was about eight feet deep, and I felt it going from under me
and pulled on the pole. Soup tank, pole, and Cleary and all followed
me into that shell-hole. When we came up covered with that lovely,
slimy mud, you couldn't tell which was the soup tank. Then I remembered
what the sergeant-major had said, "This is a soft job for you,"--and,
believe me, it was.
There is one thing I would like to say and that is the boys of the
Princess Pats had wonderful courage, and always a good word for each
other. I can picture plainly our trip over the top at Hooge, when I
went over with the second wave. I could see the boys on our left going
through a swamp up to their waists in filth; ploughing through, their
rifles up over their heads, so they would not get blocked with dirt,
and when a man met a bullet with "his number," he would fall backward
or forward and disappear under this water and mud; just like quicksand.
It was after a terrific bombardment of our lines. I was detailed to
fill sand bags in a shell-hole beside a communication trench, just
back of the front lines. I was with five other chums, when a shell
dropped on the far corner of the shell-hole, which I was facing, and
the shrapnel penetrated my left shoulder, mouth, right eye and a
small piece in my left leg. My chum, Nelson, was badly wounded in the
back, and I believe the other four boys were buried. I never heard if
they got them out, as I was unconscious, but when I was struck I can
remember, first seeing a green light, felt a burning in my eye, and a
blow on my shoulder as if struck with a sledge-hammer. I felt myself
slide down in the mud and I knew nothing until I awoke in the major's
dugout. I was told what had happened to the other boys.
I was then taken to the dressing station and in two days arrived at No.
3 Canadian General Hospital at Boulogne.
I was blind in both eyes for a month, had two operations in France,
and was then sent to England to the 4th London General Hospital,
Denmark Hill. After spending a few months there I was sent to the
C.C.A.C. (Canadian Casualty Assembly Centre), better known as "Charlie
Chaplin's." This was at Folkestone. After having two "boards" they
found me unfit for further service in England or France, so I was
billed for Canada.
Arriving in Canada on the _S.S. Empress of Britain_, at Quebec, I was
sent to the convalescent home (Belmont Park) at Montreal, and after
treatment was honorably discharged as physically unfit.
I trained in the McGill O. T. C. and later came to New York with the
"British Canadian Recruiting Mission," where I lectured, and did
recruiting work, through New York City. Since leaving the mission I
have traveled to the West Indies and through the eastern part of the
United States. Many of my experiences I have omitted on account of
space, but I am proud to have belonged to a famous regiment, "The
Princess Pats."
MY EXPERIENCES IN FRANCE WITH THE 10th CANADIAN INFANTRY
BY SGT. HARRY HALL, NO. 19805
WHEN Great Britain declared war on Germany, I considered it my duty as
a member of the Canadian Militia to volunteer my services for the Front.
The 106th Winnipeg Light Infantry to which I belonged, was the first
infantry regiment to leave Western Canada to join the mobilization camp
at Valcartier, Quebec.
Under the new scheme of organization, every regiment lost its identity
and we were merged into the 10th Battalion, Second Infantry Brigade.
Early in October we left Canada for England, arriving at Plymouth and
were then taken by train to Salisbury Plains, which is noted for mud
and rain.
After undergoing training in the winter, we embarked at Avonmouth,
Bristol, and sailed for France in a cattle boat, landing at St. Naize
in the Bay of Biscay, four days later.
[Illustration: SERGT. HARRY HALL]
Then we had two days traveling in a box car up to the Trout, and
after a short rest we went to Ploegstreet Woods and went under a system
of training with the Dublin Fusileers.
The method of training we went through was excellent in every way, each
one of us being posted with one of the Dublins and to do what they did.
When we reached the trenches, I was posted with "Spud Murphy" who
was then on sentry go. Spud was a hero of "Mons," having had safely
survived up to the present and so we had quite a lot to talk about.
Ploegstreet being a quiet "front," there was nothing very exciting, so
we were pleased when we were shifted to the village of Fleurbaix to
relieve an English division and to take trenches over on our own.
We were placed on the line near the village of La Boutillerie, where
the trenches cut through the walls of a convent.
The Germans were about 150 yards away and seemed to have
well-constructed trenches.
During the first night in, one of the Germans shouted over and asked
what part of Canada we were from. How they learned that the Canadians
were in front of them I have no idea, but as they had plenty of spies
in our rear, they must have received the information from them.
The Germans were in happy spirits that night, as they were singing
and playing instruments almost until dawn; one of them had a fine
baritone voice and sang several songs in English, including "Rocked
in the Cradle of the Deep." I think they were Saxons, as it was never
customary for the Prussians or Bavarians to act in that manner.
Although the trenches were wet and muddy, things were not too bad, as
we were allowed to build fires so we could warm our machonichie rations
and also make tea.
There was hardly any artillery fire, but the German snipers were very
clever in that region and it meant death to show a head. I had one
periscope shot out of my hands which will show what their snipers can
do.
After three days in, we were taken out for a rest and billeted in a
school house in Fleurbaix.
The next time we went to the front line, my platoon was ordered to man
a redoubt behind the front trench. The idea of a redoubt is in case
the enemy breaks through the front line the men manning it can pour
enfilade fire into the enemy while they are passing in their advance to
the second line of trenches.
This particular redoubt was a circular sandbagged construction large
enough to allow sixty men to fire through the loopholes, and had two
lines of entanglements round it with one narrow path through them to
enable us to get in or out. This pathway could easily be blocked by
a mass of wire called a "Chevaux de Frize," which was kept in the
redoubt, and which could be placed in position when we had all entered.
Food which would last a platoon for ten days and a barrel of water
was always kept in stock and was only allowed to be used in case
the garrison was besieged. Things being quiet at this time, we had
permission to use a cottage, which was only a few yards away, to sleep
in at nights.
On the second day we remained in the cottage for part of the time, but
as we had lit a fire to cook the dinner on, the Germans must have seen
smoke coming out of the chimney, and soon got our range with one of
their 77MM. field guns. The second shell hit the roof of the cottage,
bursting, the shrapnel bullets were scattered in the next room to where
I was.
The platoon lieutenant was in the room when the shell burst, and
was talking to a sergeant and a corporal; the corporal was hit in
thirty-one places down his left side, and was in a terrible mess. The
lieutenant was wounded in the arm and the sergeant in the leg. The rest
of us picking them up, rushed to the redoubt, another shell hitting
the cottage just after we left. This taught us a lesson, and for the
next few days we stayed under cover.
We were moved to the Ypres front in April to relieve a French division,
marching twenty-two miles from Estaires to Abeele in one day, with
full marching order, including 150 rounds of ammunition. The battalion
rested at Abeele for a few days and then we marched through Poperinghe
and the town of Ypres up to the front line.
At last we were in the dreaded Ypres salient, the worst sector of the
front, and on which the Germans had sacrificed thousands of men in an
effort to gain Ypres and the roads to the Channel ports. As the French
came down one side of the road, we went up the other into the front
line, at the part we were on, the trenches cut across the Polccapelle
Paschendale Road, where the British Seventh Division cut the Prussian
Guards to pieces the previous October.
The next morning we could see hundreds of dead Germans lying beyond our
entanglements who had been dead five months, and as there was a light
mist which would easily hide us, the German trenches being 800 yards
away, a few of us crawled through the wire and went to have a look at
them.
By their epaulettes, we could see that they were the 235th Prussian
Regiment, and they must have had a terrible list of casualties by
the number who were dead. Any German shell which dropped short fell
among them and many had heads and legs missing; the stench was so bad
that two of our men vomited, and it was a sight that no doctor would
recommend for anyone suffering from shattered nerves.
After six days up there in the badly constructed trenches and under
continual bombardment, without a hot drink all the time, working like
slaves every night, filling sandbags and strengthening the parapets,
our appetites spoiled by the sights and stench of the dead "Fritzies,"
we were at last relieved by our 5th Battalion, and marched into Ypres
to the billets, which were in a large mill alongside the Yser Canal.
Ypres at this time was full of the civilian population and Estaminets.
Restaurants and the market-place were open, so we had a splendid
opportunity to change our diet from the everlasting bully and biscuits.
Two days after we entered Ypres the Germans opened up their great
offensive on the 22d of April, where they used their poisonous gases
for the first time. They also commenced to shell the town with every
sized gun they had, from 18 pounders to their 14-inch Austrian Skoda
howitzers, the largest caliber gun used on the western front.
Scores of civilians were killed as they rushed out of the town, and it
was pitiful to see the little children lying dead in the streets.
The Germans broke through the Algerians on our left flank under cover
of their poisonous gases, which killed thousands of Algerians and our
own men in the front line trenches.
Our battalion and the 16th Canadian Scottish were the only reserves in
the whole salient, and as the Germans had broken through, things were
looking very black for us.
We were instantly summoned to "fall in" and soon we were on our way to
fill the gap. We were two thousand men to stop the German divisions in
their countless thousands.
An ordinary general would have posted us in a reserve line of trenches
until the Germans advanced the next morning, but not so General
Alderson, our divisional commander, an English general, who proved
himself one of the geniuses of the war. He tried strategy, which was
one of the biggest bluffs of the war, and which utterly surprised the
Germans.
Instead of waiting for the Germans to swamp us the next morning with
their greater superiority of twenty to one man, he ordered us to make
a night attack on the Pilkem Woods, where the Germans were massing for
their attack.
The attack was made in lines of double companies, 500 men in each of
the four lines, A and B Company of our battalion being in the front
line and supported by C and D Company, and then the 16th Battalion
behind them.
Unsupported by artillery, we advanced shortly after midnight, getting
to within thirty yards of the Germans before being discovered.
The Germans at once opened up "rapid fire" with every machine gun and
rifle they had, the night air being rent with the cracks of hundreds of
rifles and machine guns.
How any man could pass through that hail of lead has always been a
mystery to me, but the remnants of us, after a desperate struggle in
the dim light, took possession of the wood at the point of the bayonet.
The German garrison was completely demoralized, and our impetuous
advance did not cease until we reached the far side of the wood, and
there we entrenched.
An hour later, a most formidable concentration of artillery sweeping
the wood, as a tropical storm sweeps the forest, made it impossible
for us to hold the position.
Instead of retiring, we tried our old tactics of advancing, and
attacked the Germans once more, who were digging themselves in about
200 yards in front.
We soon gained an objective and remained there until the next day. Our
ranks by this time were sadly depleted. Our colonel was killed and only
two officers still remained in the fight.