Part 4

I WAS one of the first 100,000 men of British Expeditionary Force sent to Belgium in August, 1914. The great retreat from Mons and the different battles (rearguard actions) that took place afterward were some of the worst and fiercest actions that the British Forces ever fought. Of course we know that not so many guns were used and nothing like the barrage that is put down nowadays, but it was hard and severe fighting with hardships that are no longer necessary today. The Lewis machine gun, and the new types today, were not known then. We went to the field with the old Maxim type used in previous warfare. Such was the equipment of the first 100,000 men of British Expeditionary Forces. Our forces were spread out on a twenty-two-mile front. Just a mere handful of men that, without a doubt, saved Europe from Prussian rule; although thousands do not realize this. If the enemy had known of the weakness of our forces he would have walked across Belgium and France. However, the enemy underestimated our forces, and the stubborn and determined fight of, what the Kaiser called, England's "Contemptible Little Army" saved the situation. At Mons it was a case of, if the enemy broke through the line, there were no reserves to bring up, so, officer and man alike, we stood to the last. When the enemy broke through in certain parts of the lines--then came the hard fighting. "Fritz" would break through on the left flank and endeavor to cut us off, then came the time man after man went down, and, slowly, we had to retreat assisted by cavalry, against, literally speaking, hordes and hordes of Germany's best soldiers. Some companies were not so fortunate, being completely surrounded, and annihilated, or taken prisoners, very few escaping to tell the tale, and those that escaped to the woods had no rations, and lived like savages, on anything that could be found.

Unfortunately not many of these men are alive today, being afterward captured by the enemy and killed by ill-treatment in internment camps, or starved to death in the woods. It was when the retreat was looking very serious, and no reserves forthcoming, that the most wonderful and thrilling incidents of the war occurred, and this is vouched for by all who were there. When comrades were falling, one after the other, and the Germans advancing in great masses, Angels appeared from the skies and seemed to stop the approach of the enemy. They appeared to fall back temporarily in sheer disorder. This was only a temporary collapse, but it gave time for better preparations on our part, and this is what saved us from being wiped out, as reserves were forthcoming afterward. An incident of the enemy's method of warfare by unscrupulous means came to my notice. We would not have lost half of the men we did, at Mons, if it had not been for this. It was the fault of a French colonel who was under the influence of his wife, a German woman, a spy of the German empire, and she so used her influence over her husband that he kept back two or three regiments of reserves for three days, under the pretext of resting them, when they might have been up and probably saved the situation. This colonel was afterward court-martialed and shot, Lord Kitchener coming from England to investigate this.

Our enemy, as we have seen all through the war, has used these unscrupulous methods. We lost 60,000 out of 100,000 1st B. E. F. Over half our army was taken prisoners, killed and wounded. Out of my battalion there were twenty-eight survivors--I being one of them.

After Mons came the great battle of Ypres, in which our regiment took part. Things were nearly always very brisk in this sector of the line. I remember one particular night, my chum and I were out on listening posts when my chum thought he saw the enemy advancing. I looked and could not see them. He started making a row, and I warned him to be quiet, but he didn't heed me, when suddenly he went down mortally wounded. I dived to the ground, and in diving my hands came in contact with a man who had probably been dead some days. This was not an unusual occurrence. About Sept. 15th, when we were up at Ypres again, there was a party of us who went on a bombing raid one night. Nearly every night a bombing party went out into No Man's Land. At this particular time, however, we were returning from a bombing raid, perhaps without as much caution as usual, when a shell burst right among us, killing every man except myself and a chum, who was badly wounded. I, however, found I had escaped with but a few scratches, and taking along my chum who had a bad wound in the leg, managed, after much trouble, to return to our lines. My chum, not being able to walk, made it difficult for me. I had to carry him back, and to look out for "whizz-bangs," and avoid tumbling into shell-holes. The weather at this time of the year was very bad; raw and cold weather, up to our knees in mud and water, stuck in the trenches, day after day, and week after week. Such is trench life in winter time. But when springtime came again, then things started to "liven up." "Fritz" was at it again. Our battalion was up at Ypres salient, where a terrific artillery duel was being put up at the time. Shells were dropping all around, star shells illuminated the skies, and the word was passed around for getting ready to go "Over the Top."

It was dawn, and, the rum ration having been handed around, the order was given, and over we went. Some were just up and over and down they went. I remember our captain was one of the first to fall. His words as he fell were: "Carry on, boys, don't mind me," and the boys carried on. All I could see before me was blood. It seemed as if I had no other object in mind but to kill. Such were my feelings as we went over. We hadn't advanced above 300 yards when a bullet whizzed too close for my liking, and, turning my head, I saw my chum fall, and dozens of others, but our orders were "carry on," and get our objective. Next our first lieutenant fell and mustering us together, our remaining lieutenant, a mere youth of eighteen years, and a small handful of men, reached our position, not without severe loss of life. I remember one little incident. A German officer lying severely wounded, called in almost perfect English for a drink. One of the boys (probably a little more human than some of us) went to give him a drink out of his water bottle. Then the Prussian officer drew his revolver and shot this boy. Those who witnessed the incident, I being among them, made short work of the Prussian beast, but this incident goes to show the Prussians' hate of his enemy.

The Saxon troops are the most civilized of the bunch. An incident of just the opposite, I witnessed down at the Somme. A wounded German soldier called for water to drink and one of our Tommies kindheartedly went and gave it to him. They conversed for a minute or two. The German spoke in broken English. He said to the Tommy, as he undid his tunic and displayed a Salvation Army jersey, "I am a Salvationist," and the British Tommy replying said, "So am I." They shook hands and the German fell back dead. Never shall I forget the sights that I have seen in the trenches we took from the Boches. I remember one particular trench we took, we found a young girl about nineteen years of age, who had one of her eyes taken out, an ear cut off and her right breast severed. This was not an isolated case of the Boche's villainy. I personally witnessed, in villages in France and Belgium, the bodies of old men that had been crucified or slowly tortured to death. I have seen a little baby bayonetted to a doorpost and the bayonet left sticking in the body.

It was down at Loos that I was gassed. I have a recollection of the gas coming over and was unconscious for twenty-four hours, and had oxygen pumped into me. When I returned to consciousness I found myself in a hospital with a Red Cross nurse bending over me. Another sector of the line I was in was at Cambrai (after my recovery from the hospital). Here we caught it pretty rough. It was the time that British divisions were being drafted off to Italy that things were lively. Several battalions were being marched off to Italy, when "Fritz" broke through part of our line down south, and advanced in mass formation. Then we were ordered to retreat. It was some retreat! Guns were left, ammunition dumps not blown up, and we retreated about thirty miles. Our losses there were great. However, in small counter-attacks and skirmishes, which our battalion took part in, we captured quite a few prisoners. I was quite surprised to notice how young some of these German soldiers seemed--not more than seventeen years of age. In the early part of 1918 I was up in Ypres again where one night we had after severe fighting recaptured a few hundred yards, I was just standing around in the captured trenches, when a shell burst and a piece of shrapnel caught me. Down I went, to awake once more in a hospital, where the boys were all content and happy, in spite of wounds. So was I, especially when I heard I was for "Blighty" once again.

MY SERVICE IN FLANDERS

BY SERGT. ALEXANDER GIBB, NO. 444476, CO. A. 26TH BATT., N. B. REGT., CANADIAN INF.

IN THE month of October, 1914, the second Canadian Division was being formed. I being too young at that time, could not enlist, but in the month of February, 1915, I did enlist with the 55th Battalion. The commander of that battalion was Lieutenant Colonel Kirkpatrick. It was in the month of March of the same year that our regiment went into camp at Sussex, N. B. Every day of our life in camp was work, day and night, but of course our battalion found time for their sports; even if we did have to work very hard during the day.

In the beginning of June of that year there was a call came to our regiment for volunteers to go overseas, with the 26th Battalion, which is now known as the Famous Fighting 26th; at that time under command of Lieutenant Colonel McAvity, better known as "Colonel Jim." Of course I was eager to get over and do my bit. I was one of the many who volunteered. It was on the most unlucky day of that month, June 13, 1915, that the 26th sailed on the transport _Caledonian_ for an unknown port in England. As the transport moved from the pier amid cheering crowds, the boys were happy and gay.

Our voyage across the pond was uneventful, only we were all given life belts which we had to wear all the time of our trip, and of course we had our life boat drill, which took place in the morning after our physical training. The afternoon was spent in sports of all kinds, boxing, running, etc. We did not come in contact with any U-boats and I might say we had very little seasickness on board. Our trip of nine days was the most enjoyable trip I have ever had on the water. When we were a few miles from our landing place, away off in the distance we could see two destroyers coming toward us. At first we thought they were "Fritzies" but as they came nearer we found them to be British destroyers coming to escort us into the harbor at Southampton.

On arriving at that port, amid cheering crowds, we disembarked for our training camp in England. We marched to the station and boarded the train. At every step we made, the English people would give us hot tea, cake and fruit, and we sure did enjoy it.

We arrived in the City of Folkestone, and from there marched to the training camp, known as West Sandling camp. We were tired out from our long train journey, and had a quiet repose in our new home. Our training started in real earnest there. A lot of it was quite new to us, such as musketry, bayonet fighting, trench warfare, bombing, etc. After two months of hard work, and long marches, the word came at last for us to show the Huns what we were made of. We received orders for parade in full marching order--then were marched about five miles to the transport, which was waiting for us at Folkestone. I might say that was in the month of September, 1915. Our voyage across the channel was very rough, but of course we did not mind it.

We arrived in the city of Boulogne, on the coast of France, and marched from there to a rest camp, staying there for three days. Once more we got orders to move on. We marched about forty or forty-five miles to St. Omer, then on to a rest camp behind the lines at Kemmel Hill, which is in Flanders.

After a brief rest, our battalion went into the front line, at the above mentioned place. As we were nearing the front lines we could hear the big guns and shells bursting overhead; also the whistling of bullets. Of course, I naturally started ducking my head, and I have been ducking ever since. In the week of the 12th of October, our battalion was in the front line, in the P. E. O. trenches at Kemmel, and on that day "Fritzie" sprung a mine in No Man's Land which formed a big crater. On the morning of the 13th we got orders that we were to take that crater. The time set for going "Over the Top" was 2 A.M. and every man was ready and eager to show what he was made of. To the minute a blast of the whistle came, and we were over. "Fritzie" saw us and he also came over. Then a hand-to-hand fight started. I came in contact with a big Hun, and of course we went to it. Before many seconds had passed, I got his bayonet over the bridge of the nose, but it did not knock me out, and a short time after I got him; my first Hun. My, but I was a proud boy. I put my hand to my face and it became covered with blood--so I started back to the trench to get my wound dressed. On arriving at my battalion dressing station the doctor started operations. He put four stitches in my nose and then I was sent back to a field hospital for further treatment. While at the hospital I heard that our battalion had taken the crater and covered itself with glory, but our losses were heavy. It was during that fight that my regiment made itself famous.

After two weeks in the hospital, I was sent back to my regiment which was in a rest camp. I carried back with me two lovely black eyes from the effect of the wound.

Once more we moved into the trenches, under a heavy downpour of rain. The winter had just set in. It was cold and damp under foot, and the water reached up to our knees. During our stay in the line at that time, I recall an incident which happened. I was sitting in a dugout, having a bite to eat with some of my pals, and enjoying the meal quite well. Something had to spoil our lunch, of course. A shell came over and burst on top of the dugout and buried us for about four or five hours. We were in darkness--then we were dug out, and were none the worse from our little experience.

MY SERVICE IN FLANDERS

Part 2

BY SERGT. A. GIBB

DURING our stay in the line at Kemmel Hill, after the crater fight, the winter started in real earnest. The snow and sleet was something awful. Nothing but wet feet all the time. Had it not been for our rum ration, we should have died from disease. A great number of our boys did die. Some of the boys in our working party who went up the line, while we were in billets, were drowned in the shell-holes, that were filled with water, or got trench feet and were sent to the hospital. During the Christmas of 1915 we were in the front line, and it was very cold. We had our Christmas dinner there, which consisted of our regular rations, but when we came to our billets again, after six days in the front line, we had a Christmas dinner which consisted of turkey, dressing, pudding, tea and other nice things. I am sure all the boys enjoyed it to their heart's content. In fact, it was the best meal we had since arriving in Flanders. We also had our New Year's dinner out on the line, much to our joy. During Christmas and New Year's we had entertainments at the Y. M. C. A. huts and a few movie shows.

About two days after New Year's we went back into the line; also the mud and water. The rest of that winter was very uneventful.

It was on June 21, 1916, that the third battle of Ypres started, our regiment being in the line at Kemmel Hill, and our 3rd Canadian division at Ypres. On the second of that month "Fritzie" made his drive for Ypres. The battle started about 2 A.M. The Huns came over in massed formation, and very strong in number, almost six to one of "ours." All the boys in my battalion were sitting on top of the trench, looking on at the attack. The noise from the big guns was dreadful; also the machine gun fire. The prettiest sight I ever saw was the star shells bursting in the air. They were of colored red, white, and green, which was the Hun's S. O. S. call.

On the fourth of June, "Fritzie" managed to drive our boys from their position in that part of the line. Our third division put up a very strong fight, but they were outnumbered and could not hold. So the Huns advanced quite a bit, and gained a lot of ground. The 48th Battalion was separated from the other battalions and other regiments were in the same fix. That was the reason the Huns drove them back.

On the 11th of June our battalion, the 26th, was taken out of the line at Kemmel Hill, and after a few hours rest, started for the support line at Ypres, which was Bedford Farm. On arriving there we stayed for two days, and on the 12th of the next month our famous Canadian Scottish made an attack on "Fritzie" and succeeded in driving him back, after very hard fighting and hand-to-hand work.

It was on the 14th that our battalion, accompanied by others, moved up to relieve the tired-out Scotties, who were tattered and torn. They came straggling back, but not in the same strength as when they went into the conflict. They had a great number killed, wounded and missing. As our battalion moved up the road leading to the trenches, under heavy shell fire, we lost two hundred men, killed and wounded. As we moved along, we could see our chums falling. That made us more eager to get at the Hun. On arriving in the front line, late that evening I was detailed off as a battalion runner, and, of course, it was very interesting work. I was to report at battalion headquarters which was about three-quarters of a mile behind the line. After great difficulty I found myself at that point, and reported myself to the sergeant-major. A short time after I was ordered to take a battalion into the trenches at Hooge, and after great difficulty, going over the shell-torn ground, I landed the regiment safe at their port.

On the following morning at 9 A.M. I received another order to take a dispatch to every boy in my battalion. Of course there is always two men who go with the dispatch. The idea of that is in case one man gets wounded, the other can look after his wounds, and carry on with his orders. My partner and I started out from battalion headquarters, and going up the communication trench, found it all blown to pieces, so we decided to take to the open. On arriving at a company we delivered the dispatch and went on to the next company. It was very uneventful but it took us from 9 A.M. one day until 4 A.M. the following morning to get back. On our way back we arrived at a company in time to get a little party out to headquarters, but at the same time "Fritzie" started shelling us very heavily, so we took different routes. About fifty yards from the front line my pal got a bullet in the back, which brought him down. I dressed his wound, then carried him for a distance of about fifty or sixty yards. I then laid him down, so I could get a rest and straighten myself up, but when I picked him up again he was dead. I continued the rest of my journey alone, but before long I got hit myself in both legs. I dressed them and crawled to headquarters, delivered the dispatch, then fell into a fainting spell. When I came to I found myself in a hospital in Boulogne.

Canada's casualties in the war up to eleven days before the capture of Mons on the final morning of the conflict totalled 211,358 men.

These classified as follows:

Killed in action 34,877 Died of wounds 15,457 Wounded and presumed dead 52,779 Missing in action and known prisoners of war 8,245

Canada's losses have been very great and she has fought very bravely for a just cause, the freedom of the world and everlasting peace.

WITH THE AMMUNITION TRAIN

BY FREDERICK GERALD MC AVITY, GUNNER NO. 91805, 8TH BATTERY, CANADIAN FIELD ARTILLERY

IT WAS back in 1914 when the word came to Canada for soldiers to serve for King and Country. As I was very young, not quite eighteen years of age, I thought I would like to enlist, and go to war, not really knowing what I was going into.

At that time, anyone enlisting under age had to have his parents' consent, which, I will say, was no easy matter. After having a little battle of my own, with all my relatives, I finally managed to get the signature of my parents.

We went to camp a few days later and had about two months' training at Valcartier, and then sailed for England. After training a few months in the Old Country we sailed for France the early part of February, 1915, where we first got our taste of war. I was more than surprised, because I was young, and my idea of war was sniping at each other from behind a tree or stump, but this trench warfare was a new thing. At that time I was attached to an ammunition column which fed the guns with its ammunition. Then it was a case of starving the guns, because the shortage of ammunition would only allow each gun of each battalion four rounds a day and as the soldiers call it out there, they had our "wind up" all the time.

We had lost quite a number of men at Ypres and pulled out of that position for another part of the line, when I was wounded on the forenoon of September 21st. It was only a slight wound in the left foot. After a few months at the hospital and proving A-1 again, I was sent back to the line, and joined my unit at Ploegstreet in the fall of the same year. Now, as you know, the fighting was not so great, but the hardships were terrible through the winter. It is simply wonderful what a human being can stand. If anyone had told me before I enlisted that I could lay in mud and water for day in and day out, I think I would have called him a "liar," but I have come to the conclusion that nothing is impossible nowadays.

Some days when it was a little quiet, we would spend our time in fixing up our bivouac, which we had built on the ground, as huts to live in. After the winter of 1915 and the spring of 1916, we moved to the Ypres salient and we had a pretty tough time of it there, as they had us pinned in the shape of a horseshoe, and they could hit us from all sides except the rear. The Germans had us overwhelmed at that time, but even with their wonderful fighting mechanism, they couldn't drive back the fighting race from North America.

We fought on in the salient until July, 1916, when the first division got word we were to move to another front. It was rather a surprise. We thought we were to have a rest at that time. The fighting was heavy on the two fronts--the Somme front in France and the Salonica front in Greece. So it was a question with the boys which one we were going to. At last word came to move somewhere and after a number of days on the train and on foot, we at last came to a sign along the roadway marked Somme River.

Well, then we knew we were on our way to the Somme front, going into action the same night. We arrived on the battle scene, and that was the introduction of the Canadians in the Battle of the Somme. It was a tough fight and we lost a number of men, but it was much worse for poor "Fritzie."