Tranquil Canadian lines—German reconnaissance—Incident at “Plug Street”—Pte. Bruno saves Capt. Tidy—A sniper’s month—Sharpshooters’ compact—Sergt. Ballen-dine—The Ross rifle—“No Man’s Land”—Our bombers —Sergt. William Dash—His new profession—General Sir Sam Hughes’ visit—Canadian patriotism—Civilian armies —“Last Word of Kings”—Art of the “soldier’s speech” Lord Kitchener’s inspiration—Lord Roberts and the Indians—General Hughes arrives in France—At British Headquarters—Consultation with King Albert—Meeting with Prince Alexander of Teck—Conference with General Alderson—The second Canadian Contingent—In the firing line—Many friends—General Burstall’s artillery—Inspection of cavalry—Meeting with Prince of Wales—The Princess Patricias—Conference with Sir Douglas Haig— General Hughes’ suggestions—Meeting with General Foch—Impressed with General Joffre—The ruin at Rheims—General Hughes’ message on departure—A quiet August—The Canadian Corps—General Alderson’s new command—An appreciation of a gallant Commander —Conclusion.

“Fortes fortibus creantur.”
Brave men are created by brave men.

Save for the great interest aroused by the visit of the Prime Minister, Sir Robert Borden, an almost uncanny tranquillity reigned along the whole Canadian front during the month of July.

The enemy soon became aware that new troops had taken up the position, and reconnaissance parties were very active in endeavouring to ascertain precisely what troops they now had opposite them. They had probably caught a few words from our trenches which were sufficient to tell them that they were now opposed to Canadians, and they were no doubt anxious to discover whether they were confronted by the experienced veterans who had proved their qualities at Ypres, or whether their opponents were the soldiers of the 2nd Division, as yet fresh to the field of war.

We, for our part, had a similar curiosity. We, too, were anxious to discover the identity and, therefore, the quality, of the men whose trenches it was our lot to watch by night and by day.

Knowing, however, that their reconnaissance parties were moving about, we were content to bide our time—to await the opportunity of seizing upon one of their detachments when they were either careless, ill-led, or over-bold.

That opportunity came at “Plug Street” at halfpast eight on the morning of July 27th. One of the observers of the 3rd Battalion (Toronto Regiment) reported a party of the enemy in the wild wheat, never to be garnered, growing between the British and German lines. It was then that Captain Tidy, with Private Bruno, who had joined the Battalion at Valcartier from the Queen’s Own of Toronto, and two other privates of the names of Candlish and Subervitch, left the trenches and crawled out to take the enemy by surprise. In this they were successful. Two of the Germans surrendered the moment they were covered by Captain Tidy’s pistol; but the third, though putting up his hands at first, lowered them again and fired at the officer. At this, Bruno, who was in a crouching position among the wheat, fired two shots from the hip and killed the treacherous German. The party returned safely with their two prisoners, though the whole affair had taken place in full view of the German trenches. The prisoners, when questioned, stated that they had been sent out during the night in the hope that they would be able to identify our troops.

July was a sniper’s month. True, every month is a sniper’s month; the great game of sniping never tvanes, but the inactivity in other methods of fighting left the field entirely free for the sharpshooter in July.

It was during the fighting at Givenchy in June, 1915, that four snipers of the 8th Canadian Battalion (Winnipeg Rifles) agreed to record their professional achievements from that time forward on the wood of their rifles.

Private Ballendine, one of the four, is from Battleford. He is tall and loosely built. In his swarthy cheeks, black eyes, and straight black hair, he shows his right to claim Canadian citizenship by many generations of black-haired, sniping ancestors. He learned to handle a rifle with some degree of skill at the age of ten years, and he has been shooting ever since. At the present time he carries thirty-six notches on the butt of his rifle. Each notch stands for a dead German—to the best of Ballendine’s belief. One notch, cut longer and deeper into the brown wood than the others, means an officer.

To date, Private Smith, of Roblin, Manitoba, has scratched the wood of his rifle only fourteen times; but he is a good shot, has faith in his weapon, and looks hopefully to the future.

Private McDonald, of Port Arthur, displays no unseemly elation over his score of twenty-six.

Private Patrick Riel makes a strong appeal to the imagination, though his tally is less than McDonald’s by two or three. He is a descendant of the late Louis Riel, and when he enlisted in the 90th Winnipeg Rifles at the outbreak of the war, and was told by one of his officers that his regiment had done battle against his cousin Louis at Fish Creek and Batoche, he showed only a mild interest in this trick of Time. Riel, like McDonald, comes from Port Arthur way. Before the war he earned his daily bacon and tobacco as a foreman of lumber-jacks on the Kaministiquia River.

The weapons used by these four snipers are Ross rifles, remodelled to suit their peculiar and particular needs. Each is mounted with a telescopic sight, and from beneath the barrel of each much of the wood of the casing has been cut away. The men do their work by day, as the telescopic sight is not good for shooting in a poor light. They are excused all fatigues while in the trenches and go about their grim tasks without hint or hindrance from their superiors. They choose their own positions from which to observe the enemy and to fire upon him—sometimes in leafy covers behind our front-line trench, sometimes behind our parapet. Very little of their work is done in the “No Man’s Land” between the hostile lines, for there danger from the enemy is augmented by the chance of a shot from some zealous but mistaken comrade. The mention of “No Man’s Land” reminds me that, on the Canadian front, this desolate and perilous strip of land is now called “Canada.” The idea is that our patrols have the upper hand here, night and day— that we govern the region, though we have not stationed any Governor or Resident Magistrate there as yet.

Our bombers, too, are an interesting and peculiar body of men, evolved by the needs of this warfare from all classes. Sergeant William Tabernacle is a bomber. ' He has lived for so long in an environment of cramped quarters, alternating five days and five nights of narrow trenches and low dug-outs, with five days and five nights of circumscribed huts in the reserve lines, week after week, month after month, that he sometimes wonders if the pictures in the back of his mind—pictures of dry-floored houses, wide beds, and secure streets— are memories or only dreams. At first, for a little while, he fretted after the soft things of the old, soft life in far-away Canada; but now he is content to shape his life and live it only from day to day, to question the future as little as to review the past. The things that matter to William now are the things of the moment—the trench mortars behind the opposite parapet, the guns screened in the wood behind our own lines, food, and his ration of rum.

William loves bombs, though he had never heard of such things before the war and had never believed in them until two exploded near him, in the first trench of his experience—long ago, before the Second Battle of Ypres. It seems that he brought to France with him, all unknown to himself or his comrades, an instinctive understanding of and affection for every variety of explosive missile. He grasped the idea and intention of this phase of warfare in a flash—in the flash of his first hostile grenade. He was told to be a bomber; so he became a bomber, and everything he threw exploded with precision. His Colonel made a Corporal of him. As Corporal he added to his duties of throwing bombs the work of overhauling the bombs of others and of manufacturing a few on his own account. He became a Sergeant—and now he is an accepted authority on bombs. He makes them, repairs them, assembles them, takes care of them, issues them to his men, and sometimes heaves a few himself, just to show the youngsters how the trick is done.

Nothing comes amiss to William. Bombs and grenades that enter his trench and fail to explode are quickly investigated, and, sooner or later, are returned to their original owners in working order. Rifle grenades that explode in William’s vicinity never fail to attract his attention, and while others attend to the wounded he looks for the stick. Finding the stick, he immediately welds it to the base of a small, cone-shaped bomb from his own stores —and, behold, a rifle grenade of superior quality all ready to be fired against the enemy’s loopholes.

William is considered by some to have grown peculiar in his habits. His dug-out is hung and cluttered with the materials and tools and weapons of his trade. He fondles specimens of British, French, and German bombs, even as old ladies back in Canada fondle their grandchildren. He expatiates on their good points and their defects. He has his favourites, of course, and should anyone venture to belittle the fuse, the detonating charge, or the explosive quality of one of his favourites, he becomes arrogant, ill-mannered, and quarrelsome.

William lives to-day for the explosion of tomorrow. If he were Lord Kitchener doubtless this war would end very suddenly, some fine day, in a rending crash that would split and rip these fair lands from the sea to the high hills.

William is a Canadian. Before the war his fellow-countrymen believed that he lacked ambition and smoked too many cigarettes. But here he is doing his queer work, in his own queer way, in a trench in the Low Countries—one of the hardest rivets to break or bend in that long barrier which the fighting legions of Germany can neither bend nor break.

One cannot help wondering what William will do for excitement when he returns to that little town in Ontario—if ever he does return. Perhaps, an Uncle Toby of the New World, he will tell, “with remembrances,” the story of how he “fought in Flanders” on the old soil and with the old weapons.

At the beginning of August the men were cheered by a welcome visitor from home—Major-General Sir Sam Hughes, K.C.B., whom the men naturally regard as the father of the Canadian Contingent.

The passionate love of country, the lofty, if inarticulate, patriotism which called men from the lumber camp and the mine, the desk and the store, was expressed in the formation of great armies, by the guiding hand of the Minister of Militia.

At that supreme moment in our country’s history, when Canada was at the cross roads of her destiny, she was indeed happy in the possession of the man who gathered in and marshalled, with a speed and noble energy seldom, if ever, equalled, the hosts of willing but untrained civilians who came rushing from the Pacific Coast, the Rockies, the grain-belt, the Western Prairie, and the fields and forests and cities of the East, to offer themselves to the Empire in her hour of need.

It is unnecessary to dwell upon the efforts which in a few weeks assembled the first armies of Canada, armies which were in a brief period to prove that they were able to meet on equal terms the military brood of the great Frederick. Indeed, properly to enforce the true spirit and meaning of Canada’s great arming, one cannot insist too strongly on the wonderful fact that by a supreme effort of organisation, men who had, in the main, passed their lives in peaceful pursuits, were forged into an army fitted to face with honour and success the highly trained hordes of a nation steeped for centuries in the traditions of militarism.

These gallant men of ours have displayed a valour which has never been surpassed; they have become versed in the arts of war with a thoroughness and swiftness which gives them a superb confidence, even when faced by overwhelming numbers of the Kaiser’s hosts. And they are full of a great joy and a great pride when they consider that newborn civilian armies have done so much.

Every Canadian soldier, too, is heartened by an appreciation of the fact that in every detail of arms, equipment, and supply, the organisation behind him works ceaselessly to make every Canadian unit as perfect a fighting machine as can be. They know that, thanks to Major-General Carson, the Agent of the Militia Department in England, all their requirements for fighting purposes are thought out in advance, and provided to the last detail in more than good time. Such confidence makes for material well-being, and a spirit of intuitive military flair does the rest.

General Hughes is a business soldier, though he possesses a true soldier’s heart. A soldier is popularly supposed to be a silent man. When the statesmen and the politicians have ceased talking, when all their speeches have been of no avail and it is left to the guns to speak “the last word of Kings,” the civilian believes that his military leaders are not in the habit of speechmajdng. That idea, however, is profoundly mistaken. A study of military history shows that all great leaders who have inspired troops to resist to the death when disaster appeared to be certain, and all great leaders who have victoriously led assaults which seemed the very children of despair, have had the capacity of making what in armies is known as a “soldier’s speech.”

It is an art which cannot be cultivated. It is the instinctive knowledge of precisely the right road to the soldier’s heart at the supreme moment when an appeal may make all the difference between success or failure.

War makes men’s minds simple and sentimental. Without sentiment, armies could never, in free communities, be got together, and armies could never be led. Lord Kitchener proved that he had a very great understanding of the art of the “soldier’s speech” when he issued his message to the Expeditionary Force on the eve of its sailing for France. It made an ineffaceable impression on the men, and its inspiration saw them through the bitter hours of the long retreat from Mons.

Just before his death Lord Roberts made a speech to the Indian troops, from which they drew a fervour which carried them through many a bloody welter, in which the best soldiers in the world might have succumbed.

The Military Correspondent of The Times, too, has borne witness to the fact that Sir John French knows precisely what to say to reach and stir the soldier’s heart.

And General Hughes has the same gift. He employed it well when he spoke to the troops he had come to visit. He did not say much, but his words had an electrical effect upon the men’s patriotism, and strengthened them to fight even more sternly than they had already done for freedom; while, in the contemplation of soldierly glory, he made them forget the horrors and losses of the preceding months.

It was on Thursday, August 5th, that the Minister without bread. Only the phalanx of the Republic, only the soldiers of Liberty, could endure the things that you have suffered.

“There are more battles before you, more cities to capture, more rivers to cross. You all burn to carry forward the glory of the French people; to dictate a glorious peace; and to be able when you return to your villages to exclaim with pride, ‘I belonged to the conquering army of Italy.”’ for War crossed from Folkestone to Boulogne on a British destroyer, accompanied by Brigadier-General Lord Brooke, acting A.D.C. to Lord Kitchener, and Lieut.-Colonel Carrick, M.P., the Canadian representative at the General Headquarters of the British Army in France. At Boulogne the party was met by Captain Frederick Guest, M.P., A.D.C. to Sir John French.

Early the following morning Sir Sam Hughes motored to the British Headquarters, where he was received by the Commander-in-Chief. After a brief meeting, the party motored to Belgian Headquarters, whence they made a tour of the Belgian lines and inspected the Belgian trenches.

Later, the Minister met King Albert in a little cottage on the seashore, and there, with the King, he went thoroughly into the whole Belgian position, and in particular the Belgian defences, while shells were whistling unceasingly overhead. That night he returned to the British Headquarters, where he met Prince Alexander of Teck, who, until the outbreak of the war, was Governor-General Designate of Canada.

The next day, accompanied by Prince Alexander, the Minister met General Alderson and his Staff near Armentieres. And it was deeply interesting to watch the meeting between these two men—the man who had called the Canadian Army into being, and the man who commanded it in the field.

It was at this time that discussions took place and decisions were reached in regard to sending the 2nd Canadian Division to join the Army in France.

From that meeting the two Generals went straight into the firing line, and General Hughes made ail inspection of the men he had come so far to see. He noted how cheerful, fit, and well the men were, in spite of the perils and hardships they had undergone.

Along the line of trenches the General met many officers and men he knew. All of them knew him. There were delighted greetings, quick handclasps, and brief exchanges of conversation, from which radiated pride, heartiness, and good sense.

Later, the Minister went up to the main artillery observation post, and here General Burstall gave a very effective exhibition of what Canadian guns can do. But it was a demonstration which called forth a reply from the German trenches, and soon enemy shells were screaming inwards.

Next the General inspected Strathcona’s Horse, the Royal Canadian Dragoons, and 2nd King Edward’s Horse, under Brigadier-General the Right Hon. J. C. Seely, M.P., with whose soldierly mind and strangely similar personality the Minister found himself in accord.

That evening, on his return to the British Headquarters, he dined with Sir John French and the Prince of Wales.

On the Sunday morning the General inspected the Princess Patricias, and later in the day he spent some time with General Sir Douglas Haig. Sir Douglas realised at once General Hughes’ gift for the appreciation of military positions, and went very fully with him into the defences of the ist Army. It must afford Canadians not only satisfaction, but pride, to know that their Minister was able to make suggestions of great value. Then the General set out for Festubert and Givenchy. Afterwards came the inspection of the Royal Canadian Horse Artillery under Colonel Panet.

On Monday morning the Minister motored to the Headquarters of General Foch, and the meeting was a pleasant one because the two men were old friends. They had been companions on three successive years at British and French Army manoeuvres, and they had much to discuss as, during the afternoon, they traversed the French lines. Major-General Hughes spent the evening with the French Generalissimo, with whose clear, bold thinking and kindly but robust personality he was much impressed.

On Tuesday he went to Rheims, where he was met by General D’Esp6re, of the French 1st Army, in whose company he witnessed the terrible traces of recent heavy fighting—shattered caissons, splintered gun carriages, and ruined buildings, and, above all, that towering monument to German “frightfulness”—the shattered mass of the great cathedral.

The next day Major-General Hughes proceeded to Paris, where he was entertained by Lord Bertie, the British Ambassador, and met the President of the Republic and the French Minister of War.

He returned to England as he had come, in a destroyer.

Before sailing from Liverpool, the Minister wrote the following farewell, which was made known to the troops through Orders of the Day :—

“In departing for Canada, it is my desire to thank all the splendid forces—Canadians of whom we are so justly proud—at the front, for cheir splendid services to King, country, and the glorious cause of Liberty.

“When these troops left Valcartier last year and sailed from Canadian shores, I took the liberty of predicting that when they met the foe they would give an account of themselves that would reflect honour upon the glorious Empire whose liberties we are all endeavouring to maintain.

“The highest predictions have been more than fulfilled.

“I am leaving you all more than ever proud of our gallant boys.

“They have already earned the recognition of a grateful country. Throughout whatever trials these valiant soldiers may pass, they will be encouraged and strengthened by the thought that behind them, in Canada, those near and dear to them realise that their duty will be done fearlessly and well.

“May kind heaven guard and prosper these brave fellows in their great struggle.

“(Sgd.) SAM HUGHES, Major-General,

“Minister of Militia and Defence.”

It was on August 1st that the enemy carried out a severe bombardment of a location known as “Ration Farm,” opposite Messines, which drove the men of Major Hesketh’s squadron of Strathcona’s Horse, who were in reserve, into their dug-outs. The farm was hit repeatedly, and suddenly sounds as of heavy machine-gun fire were heard coming from the midst of the shattered buildings. Major Hesketh left his dug-out and entered the farm to investigate. He saw that the magazine, containing 100,000 rounds of ammunition with the reserve supply of bombs and grenades, had been pierced and set on fire by a high explosive times shelled our trenches, but never heavily, and the Canadians enjoyed a comparatively peaceful summer month.

In the early days of September the Canadian Government determined, in response to the requirements and necessities of the Empire, to furnish another Division, thus placing a complete Army Corps in the field.

It was a matter of intense gratification to the Canadians that General Alderson, who had so brilliantly led the 1st Division in the terrible and hard-fought battles in Flanders, was appointed to command the Corps.

General Alderson is a soldier with great experience and with great military gifts, and, above all, a genius for the leadership of men.

Apart from his qualities as a soldier, however, a simple and noble personality illumines his character. It is not too much to say that every officer and man under his command loves and trusts him. Not only, however, have they confidence in his military leadership, but they know that in his personality, and in his whole outlook upon humanity, he is to be respected and trusted too.

With the arrival in France of the 2nd Division, and the formation of the Canadian Army Corps, a point is reached which clearly marks the end of the first phase of Canada’s part in the world war.

[Prior to its departure for France the 2nd Division was commanded by General Sam Steele, C.B., M.V.O., a distinguished Canadian soldier and a distinguished Canadian citizen. General Steele’s military experience dates from the days of the Red River Expedition, and his appointment was much appreciated by the officers and troops of the 2nd Division during their period of training. He has since joined the Imperial Service, and is now the General Officer Commanding at Shorncliffe.]

Henceforth we shall be represented in the field by an Army Corps, a noble contribution to the necessity of the Empire. When we contemplate, quite apart from their moral value, the immense material contributions which the Dominions have made to this campaign, we may reflect with irony upon the strange errors of which many brilliant men are capable.

Professor Goldwin Smith wrote of the Canadians:—“Judge whether these men are likely to pour out their blood without stint for the British connection; see at least first, whether they are ready to pour out a little money or to reduce their duties on your goods.” And he joyfully quoted Cobden. “ Loyalty is an ironical term to apply to people who neither obey our orders nor hold themselves liable to fight our battles.”

We may perhaps be permitted to hope that the study of the past is sometimes more helpful to those who presume to foretell the future.

The 2nd Division cannot fail to be inspired by the superb example of that with which it is linked. It has the advantage of being commanded by a most distinguished and experienced officer, Major-General Turner, V.C., the Brigadier-General Turner who held the left at Ypres in the great days of April.

Of all the officers of high rank fighting to-day in Flanders, none is more modest, none more resourceful, none more chivalrous. He is in Canada a great national figure. Conspicuous among the heroes of Ypres, he will in his new position write his record in Flanders, in letters not indeed more glorious, but upon a larger slate.

And here for the present we take leave of the Canadians in Flanders. After incredible hardships patiently supported, after desperate battles stubbornly contested, their work is still incomplete. But they will complete it, meeting new necessities with fresh exertions, for it is the work of Civilisation and of Liberty.