Minor engagements—A sanguinary battle—Attacks on “Stony Mountain” and “Dorchester”—Disposition of Canadian troops—An enemy bombardment—“Duck’s Bill”—A mine mishap—“Dorchester” taken—A bombing party— Coy.-Sergt.-Major Owen’s bravery—Lieut. Campbell mounts machine-gun on Private Vincent’s back—How Private Smith replenished the bombers—Fighting the enemy with bricks—British Division unable to advance— Canadians hang on—“I can crawl”—General Mercer’s leadership—Private Clark’s gallantry—Dominion Day.

“Of fifteen hundred Englishmen,
Went home but fifty-three;
The rest were slain in Chevy-Chace,
Under the greenwood tree.”
Old Scotch Ballad.

Between the close of the battle of Festubert, on May 26th, and the beginning of the great conflict at Loos, on September 25th, there was a series of minor engagements along the whole British front, in which Givenchy stands out as another red milestone on Canada’s road to glory.

The brief mention of Givenchy in the official despatch in which Sir John French reviewed the operations of the British Army between Festubert and Loos, conveys no idea of the desperate fury or the scope of the fighting in which the Canadians again did all, and more than all, that was asked of them.

That in the end they were forced to fall back from the fortified positions they had won with so much heroism and at so much cost, was due to difficulties in other portions of the field, which prevented the 7th British Division from coming up in time.

Givenchy may appear but an incident in a long chain of operations when one is taking a bird’s-eye view of the campaign on the Western Front as a whole, but it was in reality a very considerable and sanguinary battle, the story of which should appeal to every Canadian heart.

The 7th British Division had been directed to make a frontal attack on a fortified place in the enemy’s entrenched position known to our troops as “Stony Mountain,” and the ist Canadian (Ontario) Battalion, commanded by Lieut.-Colonel Hill, of the 1st Brigade, was detailed to secure the right flank of the British Division by seizing two lines of German trenches extending from “Stony Mountain” 150 yards south to another fortified point known to us as “Dorchester.” Working parties from the 2nd and 3rd Canadian Battalions were detailed to secure the lines of trenches taken by the 1st Battalion, to connect these with our trenches, and finally to form the defensive flank wherever it might be required.

After a few days of preparation the 1st Canadian Battalion (Ontario Regiment) moved up, and at three o’clock on the afternoon of June 15th, the Battalion reached our line of trenches opposite the position to be attacked, when the 2nd Canadian Battalion, under Lieut.-Colonel Watson, which was holding the trench position, withdrew to the right to make room for them.

The trench line on the right of the attacking Battalion was held by the 2nd and 4th Canadian Battalions as far as the La Bassee Canal, with the 3rd Canadian Toronto Regiment in support. The left was held by the East Yorks.

From three o’clock until six in the evening, the Ontario Regiment awaited the command to charge, and sung their chosen songs—all popular but all unprintable. The enemy bombarded our position heartily, though our artillery had the better of them.

Fifteen minutes before the attack was timed to take place, two 18-pounder guns, which had been placed in the infantry trenches under the cover of darkness on the instructions of Brigadier-General Bur-stall, opened fire upon the parapets of the enemy trenches. One gun, under Lieut. C. S. Craig, fired over 100 rounds, sweeping the ground clear of wire and destroying two machine-guns. Lieut. Craig, who was wounded at Ypres early in May and again while observing near Givenchy, was seriously wounded after completing his task here. Lieut. L. S. Kelly, who was in command of the other gun, succeeded in destroying a machine-gun, when his own gun was wrecked by an enemy shell, and he was wounded. The gun shields themselves were tattered and twisted like paper by the mere force of musketry fire.

[On June 12th the 4th Battery, Canadian Field Artillery, commanded by Major Geo. H. Ralston, received orders to place two guns in our front-line trench, at “Duck’s Bill,” and to have them dug in and protected by sandbags by the morning of the 15th. The German trench was only 75 yards away at this point, and the purpose of the two guns was to cut wire, level parapets, and destroy machine-gun emplacements on a front of 200 yards.]

The positions for the field guns in our trench were ready by the night of the 14th, and at 9.30 of the same night the two guns, their wheels muffled with old motor tyres, left the battery’s position near the canal, and, in charge of Captain Stockwell and Sergeant-Major Kerry, passed through Givenchy. At this point the horses were unhooked, and the guns were hauled to their places in our front-line trench by hand. Shells were also drawn in by hand, in small armoured wagons. The guns were protected by one-quarter-inch armour plate, and their crews remained with them throughout the night.

The Right Section gun was commanded by Lieut. C. S. Craig, with Sergeant Miller as No. 1, and the Left Section gun by Lieut. L. S. Kelly, with Sergeant E. G. MacDougall as No. 1.

On the afternoon of the 15th, the batteries of the Division commenced firing on certain selected points of the enemy’s front. At 5.45 the infantry, working to the minute on advance orders, knocked down our parapet in front of the two entrenched guns and so uncovered their field of fire. The guns opened fire instantly on the German position, and by six o’clock had disposed of six machine-gun emplacements, levelled the German parapets and cut the wire to pieces. Our infantry attacked immediately after the firing of the last shot, and just as the German batteries began to range on our two guns. A shell burst over and behind the Right Section gun, killing three of its crew and wounding Lieut. Craig and Corporal King, who died of his wounds. Lieut.

Just before six o’clock a mine, previously prepared by the sappers, was exploded. Owing to the discovery of water under the German trenches, its tunnel could not be carried far enough forward, and the Canadian troops had accordingly been withdrawn from a salient in the Canadian line, known as “Duck’s Bill,” to guard against casualties in our own trenches, when it went off. However, to make sure that the explosion would reach the German line, so heavy a charge had to be used that the effects upon the Canadian trench line were somewhat serious. Several of our own bombers were killed and wounded, and a reserve depot of bombs was buried under the debris. Another bomb-depot was blown up by an enemy shell about this time. These two accidents made us short of bombs when we needed them later on, and we had to rely entirely on the supply of bombs which the bombers carried themselves.

Lieut.-Colonel Beecher, second in command, who escaped injury from the first explosion in our trench, was killed by a splinter from a high explosive shell at this moment.

The leading company, under Major G. J. L. Smith, rushed forward, with the smoke and flying dirt of the mine explosion for a screen, and met a withering fire from the German machine-guns placed in “Stony Mountain.” But their dash was Kelly was wounded a few minutes later. Sergeant MacDougall found Lieut. Craig lying helpless among the dead and wounded, and carried him back to a dressing station. Later, the Right Section gun was smashed by a direct hit.

Sergeant MacDougall, who comes from Moncton, New Brunswick, and is a graduate of McGill University in Electrical Engineering, again did valuable work on the following night in removing the two guns from the trench back to safety. irresistible, and almost immediately the company was in possession of the German front trench and “Dorchester”; but those who were opposite to “Stony Mountain” were stopped by fire from that fort, all being killed or wounded.

The leading company was followed by bombing parties on the right and left flanks, and by a blocking party of eight sappers of the ist Field Company Canadian Engineers. Lieut. C. A. James, who was in charge of the right bombing party, was killed at the time of the explosion of the mine. Those who remained advanced without a leader. Lieut. G. N. Gordon, in charge of the bomb party on the left, advanced in the direction of “Stony Mountain,” but his bombers were almost all shot down. A few reached the first-line trench, including Lieut. Gordon. He was soon wounded, and was afterwards killed by a German bomb party while lying in the German first-line trench with two other comrades who had exhausted their supply of bombs. They were almost the only survivors of the bombing party. The members of the blocking party, too, had all been killed or wounded, save Sapper Harmon, who, being unable to follow his vocation single-handed, loaded himself with bombs which he hurriedly collected from the dead and dying and wounded bombers and set out to bomb his way along the trench alone. He retired, with ten bullet wounds in his body, only after he had thrown his last bomb.

The second company, under Captain G. L. Wilkinson, at once followed the leading company and the bombers, and both companies charged forward to the second-line trench, where the enemy presented a firm front, although stragglers were retreating through the tall grass in the rear. The bombers went to work from right to left to clear the trench. Many resisting Germans were bayoneted, and some prisoners were taken and sent back, and later, with some of their escort, were killed by machine-gun and rifle fire from “Stony Mountain” itself.

Captain Wilkinson’s company was followed almost immediately by the third company under Lieut. T. C. Sims, as the other company officers, Captain F. W. Robinson and Lieut. P. W. Pick, had been killed by a shell at the moment our mine blew up. This company began to consolidate the first-line German trench which had been captured—that is to say, it reversed the sandbag parapet and turned the trench facing enemy-wards. It had suffered heavily in its advance across the open space between the opposing lines, and Captain Delamere’s company was the fourth sent forward to support. Captain Delamere had been wounded and the command devolved upon Lieut. J. C. L. Young, who was wounded at our parapet. Lieut. Tranter took command, and was killed in a moment. Company-Sergeant-Major Owen then assumed command, and led the company with bravery and good sense.

Lieut. F. W. Campbell, with two machine-guns, had advanced in the rear of Captain Wilkinson’s company. The entire crew of one gun was killed or wounded in the advance, but a portion of the other crew gained the enemy’s front trench, and then advanced along the trench in the direction of “Stony Mountain.” The advance was most difficult, and, although subjected to constant heavy rifle and machine-gun fire, the bombers led the way until further advance was impossible owing to a barricade across the trench which had been hurriedly erected by the enemy. The bomb and the machine-gun bear the brunt of the day’s work more and more as time goes on, till one almost begins to think that the rifle may come to be superseded by the shot-gun. The machine-gun crew which reached the trench was reduced to Lieut. Campbell and Private Vincent (a lumberjack from Bracebridge, Ontario), the machine-gun and the tripod. In default of a base, Lieut. Campbell set up the machine-gun on the broad back of Private Vincent and fired continuously. Afterwards, during the retreat, German bombers entered the trench, and Lieut. Campbell fell wounded. Private Vincent then cut away the cartridge belt, and, abandoning the tripod, dragged the gun away to safety because it was too hot to handle. Lieut. Campbell crawled out of the enemy trench, and was carried into our trench in a dying condition by Company-Sergeant-Major Owen. In the words of Kinglake, “And no man died that night with more glory, yet many died and there was much glory.”

The working parties detailed for the construction of the line adjoining our trenches with the hostile line which had been captured, moved out according to arrangement, but the heavy machine-gun fire from “Stony Mountain” forced them back to the cover of our trench, and all further attempts to continue work while daylight lasted came to nothing. The efforts of the Battalion were now confined to erecting barricades just south of “ Stony Mountain” and north of “Dorchester,” and to holding the second-line trench.

The supply of bombs ran short, and Private Smith, of Southampton, Ontario, son of a Methodist Minister, and not much more than nineteen, was almost the only source of replenishment. He was, till Armageddon, a student at the Listowell Business College. History relates he was singing the trench version of “I wonder how the old folks are at home,” when the mine exploded and he was buried. By the time he had dug himself out he discovered that all his world, including his rifle, had disappeared. But his business training told him that there was an active demand for bombs for the German trenches a few score yards away. So Private Smith festooned himself with bombs from dead and wounded bomb-throwers around him, and set out, mainly on all-fours, to supply that demand. He did it five times. He was not himself a bomb-thrower but a mere middleman. Twice he went up to the trenches and handed over his load to the busy men. Thrice, so hot was the fire, that he had to lie down and toss the bombs (they do not explode till the safety pin is withdrawn) into the trench to the men who needed them most. His clothes were literally shot into rags and ravels, but he himself was untouched in all his hazardous speculations, and he explains his escape by saying, “I kept moving.”

So through all these hells the spirit of man endured and rejoiced, indomitable.

But, after all, the supply of bombs ran out, and the casualties resulting from heavy machine-gun and rifle fire from “Stony Mountain” considerably increased the difficulties of holding the line. The bombers could fight no more. One unknown wounded man was seen standing on the parapet of the German front-line trench. He had thrown every bomb he carried, and, weeping with rage, continued to hurl bricks and stones at the advancing enemy till his end came.

Every effort was made to clear out the wounded, and reinforcements from the 3rd Battalion were sent forward. But still no work could be done, and a further supply of bombs was not yet available. Bombs were absolutely necessary. At one point four volunteers who went to get more were killed, one after the other; upon that, Sergeant Kranz, of London, England, by way of Vermillion, Alberta, and at one time a private of the Argyll and Sutherland Regiment, went back, and, fortunately, returned with a load. He was followed by Sergeant Newell, a cheese-maker from Watford, near Sarnia, and Sergeant-Major Cuddy, a druggist from Strathroy. Gradually our men in the second German line were forced back along the German communication trench, and the loss of practically all of our officers hampered the fight. The volunteers who were bringing forward a supply of bombs were nearly all killed, and the supply died out with them.

The British Division had been unable to advance on the left owing to the strength of the fortified position at “Stony Mountain,” and the German line north of that fort. The Canadians held their ground, however, hoping for the ultimate success of the attack on the left, in the face of heavy pressure on their exposed left flank.

[The 3rd (Toronto) Battalion has now only five of its original officers serving with it; 85 officers have been on the strength of the Battalion at one time and another since its organisation. Of other ranks, about 240 of the original members of the Battalion are still with it.]

The enemy meanwhile had been accumulating strong forces, and finally, at about half-past nine, the remnants of the Battalion were forced to evacuate all the ground that had been gained. The withdrawal was conducted with deliberation, through a hail of bullets, but it cost us heavily.

One splendid incident among many may perhaps explain the reason. Private Gledhill is eighteen years of age. His grandfather owns a woollen mill in Ben Miller, near Goderich, Ontario. Ben Miller was, till lately, celebrated as the home of the fattest man in the world, for there lived Mr. Jonathan Miller, who weighed 400 lbs., and moved about in a special carriage of his own. Private Gledhill, destined perhaps to confer fresh fame on Ben Miller, saw Germans advancing down the trench; saw also that only three Canadians were left in the trench, two with the machine-gun, and himself, as he said, “running a rifle.” Before he had time to observe more, an invader’s bomb most literally gave him a lift home, and landed him uninjured outside the trench with his rifle broken. He found another rifle and fired awhile from the knee till it became necessary to join the retreat. During that manoeuvre, which required caution, he fell over Lieut. Brown wounded, and offered to convoy him home. “Thanks, no,” said the lieutenant, “I can crawl.” Then Private Frank Ullock, late a livery stable keeper at Chatham, New Brunswick, but now with one leg missing, said, “Will you take me?” “Sure,” replied Gledhill. But Frank Ullock is a heavy man and could not well be lifted. So Gledhill got down on hands and knees, and Ullock took good hold of his web equipment and was hauled gingerly along the ground towards the home trench. Presently Gledhill left Ullock under some cover while he crawled forward, cut a strand of wire from our entanglements and threw the looped end back, lassoo fashion, to Ullock, who wrapped it round his body. Gledhill then hauled him to the parapet, where the stretcher-bearers came out and took charge. All this, of course, from first to last and at every pace, under a tempest of fire. It is pleasant to think that Frank Ullock fell to the charge of Dr. Murray Mac-laren, also of New Brunswick, who watched over him with tender care in a hospital under canvas, of 1,080 beds—a hospital that is larger than the General, the Royal Victoria, and the Western of Montreal combined. Gledhill was not touched, and in spite of his experiences prefers life at the front to work in his grandfather’s woollen mills at Ben Miller, near Goderich, Ontario.

Out of twenty-three combatant officers who went into this action only three missed death or wounding. They are Colonel Hill, who fought his men to the bitter end with high judgment and courage; Lieut. S. A. Creighton and Lieut, (now Captain) T. C. Sims, who did their work soldierly and well.

Although the whole plan of attack was prepared by the Corps Commander, the operations of the 1st Canadian Battalion (Ontario Regiment) were brilliantly directed by General Mercer, who commanded the Brigade. He is a man of mature years, a philosopher by nature and a lawyer by profession, always calm and even-tempered, and not given to too many words. For twenty-five years he took an active part in Canadian Militia affairs, and the 2nd Queen’s Own of Toronto held him in high esteem as their Commanding Officer.

As a soldier, in the face of the enemy, he has gained vast experience since he set foot in France. But, in addition, he has the inestimable possession of shrewd common sense, great courage, and an instinctive knowledge of military operations. There can be no finer tribute to his personality than the respect and affection of the men about him.

On the day following the attack, a wounded man was seen lying in the open between the British and the German lines. Lance-Corporal E. A. Barrett, of the 4th Battalion, and at one time the steward of the Edmonton Club, at once went out in broad daylight under heavy shell and rifle fire and brought the wounded man in.

Two days later, on the 18th, Private G. F. Clark, of the 8th Battalion (Winnipeg Rifles), displayed even greater coolness and daring.

About midday, in the neighbourhood of “Duck’s Bill,” Lieut. E. H. Houghton, of Winnipeg, machine-gun officer of the 8th Battalion, saw a wounded British soldier lying near the German trench. As soon as dusk fell he and Private Clark, of the machine-gun section, dug a hole in the parapet, through which Clark went out and brought in the wounded man, who proved to be a private of the East Yorks. The trenches at this point were only thirty-five yards apart. Private Clark had received a bullet through his cap during his rescue of the wounded Englishman, but he crawled through the hole in the parapet again and went after a Canadian machine-gun which had been abandoned within a few yards of the German trench during the recent attack. He brought the gun safely into our trench, and the tripod to within a few feet of our parapet. He wished to keep the gun to add to the battery of his own section, but the General Officer Commanding ruled that it was to be returned to its original battalion, and promised Clark something in its place which he would find less awkward to carry. Private Clark comes from Port Arthur, Ontario, and, before the war, earned his living by working in the lumber-woods.

After several days of heavy artillery fire our troops were relieved and the Headquarters moved to the north. Here a trench line was taken over from a British Division.

When Dominion Day came they remembered with pride that they were the Army of a Nation, and those who were in the trenches displayed the Dominion flag, decorated with the flowers of France, to the annoyance of the barbarians, who riddled it with bullets. Behind the lines the Day was celebrated with sports and games, while the pipers of the Scottish Canadian Battalions played a “selection of National Airs.”

But the shouting baseball teams and minstrel shows, with their outrageous personal allusions, the skirl of the pipes and the choruses of the well-known ragtimes, moved men to the depths of their souls. For this was the first Dominion Day that Canada had spent with the red sword in her hand.