  THE
Copyright, Canada, 1921, With the assistance of the official “War Diary” and the proud memory of two years’ service with the 116th Battalion C.E.F. in France, the writer has compiled this small book for all ex-members of the Battalion, with the hope that they may find somewhere within its pages the reminiscence of days spent together, battles fought, and friendships made; and for the parents, relatives, and friends whose loved ones fell whilst fighting in the ranks of the Battalion, as a token of remembrance and sympathy. The Adjutant.
There were very few, if any, Canadian Militia Regiments that succeeded in keeping their identity in France throughout the Great War. The reasons for this were—Firstly, the recruiting system, by means of which men were gathered into the Battalions of the Expeditionary Force, through the different Militia Regiments; the majority of the overseas Battalions being formed by drafts from three, four, five and sometimes more different Regiments. Secondly, the method of reinforcement, which distributed officers and men to Battalions in France disregarding any other principle except that these officers and men were from the same Province as the Battalion to which they were going. And even this did not hold good at all times. The fact remains, however, that the 116th Battalion was recruited and fostered in the County of Ontario and led to France and in France by an officer of the 34th Regiment. In consequence, a few details concerning the military history of that County and the parent regiment may be of interest to those members of the 116th who joined the Battalion from other parts of the Province and through other regiments. The County of Ontario can justly claim credit to have been one of the first counties in the Province to recognize and fulfil its militia obligations, the first company of militia in the County being formed at Oshawa and known as The Oshawa Rifle Company. Lieut. Colonel Bick, the Commanding Officer of the 34th Regiment, has in his possession a bugle with the following inscription: “Presented by the Ladies of Oshawato the Oshawa The 34th Ontario County Regiment was organized in accordance with the general orders of September 14th, 1866, and was composed of ten companies and H.Q. as follows:—
Sometime afterwards the Battalion was reduced to seven companies, those at Greenwood, Port Perry and Columbus being eliminated. In 1905 one more Company was added with Headquarters at Brechin and the distribution at the present time is as follows:—
During the Fenian Raids of 1866 and 1868, Ontario County contributed its quota and a number of Ontario County men saw service in the North-West Rebellion of 1885, some of whom are still living in the County. When war broke out in August, 1914, recruiting centres were established throughout Ontario County, and almost immediately the 34th Regiment was asked to supply a draft of 125 men for the First Contingent. So great was the response to the call for this draft that finally 7 officers and 200 other ranks went to Valcartier to join the 2nd and 4th Battalions. During the interval between the departure of the First Contingent and the enrolling of the Second, a great deal of preparatory work was done, but recruiting was not the only military activity of the times, as there was considerable anxiety felt throughout the County regarding the attitude of the alien population. The public buildings throughout the County were placed under guard, and upwards of 300 aliens were paroled and kept under surveillance. Great credit is due to Major A. F. Hind, at that time Chief of Police in Oshawa and later an officer in the 116th Battalion, for the efficient way in which this work was carried on. During the month of May, 1915, Lieut. Colonel Bick, Officer Commanding the 34th Regiment, prior to his departure for Niagara with the 37th Overseas Battalion, appointed Captain G. W. P. Every of Whitby (later transferred to the 116th Battalion), to carry on recruiting throughout the County. Many small drafts of officers and men were despatched to the different overseas Battalions at that time being formed, including 27 other ranks to the 58th Battalion which was afterwards closely connected with the 116th in France; and so things went along until October, 1915, when the 116th Ontario County Battalion was authorized. Major S. S. Sharpe, second in command of the 34th Regiment, was given the command of the Battalion. Headquarters were established at Uxbridge with companies distributed as follows:—
Lieut.-Colonel Sharpe immediately set to work to enlist the sympathy and secure the co-operation of the citizens in all parts of the County. A Civilian Recruiting League was formed and a deputation sent to wait upon the County Council and ask for financial assistance. The County Council responded in a magnificent manner to the request and voted $5,000 to the 116th Battalion—$2,000 for the purchase of band instruments, and $3,000 for recruiting purposes. Many other generous donations were made to the Battalion by the people of Ontario County including the Colours of the Battalion, which were carried through Belgium, with great pride, after the Armistice. The progress made in recruiting during the winter was such that by May, 1916, the Battalion was 1,145 strong, and on the 23rd of July, 1916, set sail from Halifax for England on the old reliable H.M.T. “Olympic.” Lt.-Col. S. S. Sharpe, D.S.O. Somewhere in France. On the 8th February, 1917, the 116th Battalion, quartered at Witley Camp, England, was warned to proceed to France on Sunday, 11th February. Everything, in consequence, was hustle and bustle, and the Battalion Orderly Room, which at the best of times is no haven of rest, was inundated with requests for additional information and leave. There was very little information to be got, other than that we were really for duty in France, and absolutely no leave, and so we gradually subsided and commenced preparations for our departure. The next few days seemed an eternity, for it was greatly feared that, even though we had received official warning for France, the Battalion’s departure might be delayed on account of mumps; at least four huts just now being quarantined with that disease. Notwithstanding many pessimistic prophecies emanating from the M.O. (Capt. James Moore), the fateful day arrived, and the Battalion, less its horses and half the transport section, which had been sent on in advance under Lt. Proctor, entrained at Milford Station at the usual army hour for such operations (1.10 a.m.), one ten ack emma. The London and South Western Railway seemed determined to make up for all its past bad behaviour, and by ten o’clock the same morning we were all safely tucked away on board His Majesty’s Transport “Victoria” with part of the 66th Imperial Divisional Headquarters and some drafts. Nothing of any importance happened during the voyage, and no “subs” were sighted, so far as we knew, so that by noon we had arrived at Boulogne. A short march brought us to St. Martin’s Camp, during which we were carefully scrutinized by the inhabitants, who shouted many unintelligible comments at us, but which by the expressions on their faces we interpreted to be of a complimentary nature. A host of small, stockingless boys accompanied us all the way from the boat to the camp, asking the most extraordinary questions in broken English, and generally ending by “cigarette?” or “bully beef?”. St. Martin’s Camp, situated as it was on the side of a hill, and about five kilometres from Boulogne, did not commend itself to us in any way, and there was nothing of interest there except the odd Y.M.C.A. or Salvation Army Hut. The men slept about ten in a tent and the officers were billeted all together in a kind of barn; blankets and bed rolls were freely distributed, and having vainly applied for leave to visit the City we turned in to dream of our dear ones or to wonder what fate had in store for us during the next few months. There is nothing on earth quite so trying as waiting for orders, especially when confined to a camp like St. Martin’s, but we were not to be kept in suspense very long, for at midnight (which, as has been mentioned before, is about the usual Army hour for such things) orders were received to move, and by 8 a.m., 12th February, the whole Battalion had entrained for a destination “Somewhere in France.” The poor old despised London and South Western Railway was a perfect paradise to the cattle trucks of this train, but what did anything matter now? By 8 a.m. the following morning we had detrained at Houdain, at that time the centre of the rest billets occupied by the 3rd Canadian Division, and after staying one night in the village of Divion, where we had our first introduction to Company messing, we finally reached a place called Haillicourt, from where we could hear the guns all day and could see the flares along the front at night—and so the war was getting nearer every minute, or rather we were getting nearer to the war, and strange to tell the nearer we got the better we thought we liked it. It might be well at this point to state that we were under orders to join the 3rd Canadian Division, and it was generally understood that we were to take the place of the 60th Battalion, which, although the junior Battalion of the 9th Brigade, was held in very high esteem as a fighting unit. The reason given for this most unusual proceeding was that the 60th Battalion, being originally recruited in Quebec, could not get sufficient reinforcements from its own Province, and in consequence was receiving both officers and men from the Province of Ontario. This method of recruiting was evidently frowned upon by superior authority, and the 116th Battalion had been chosen out of many others in England as an alternative to the 60th Battalion, and as a means of overcoming the Provincial question of reinforcements. Now, as already stated, the 60th had a wonderful record, and individually they were as fine a lot of men as one could meet anywhere; therefore, it is only natural that the news that they were soon to be broken up should cause consternation in the ranks, not only of the 9th Brigade, but the whole of the 3rd Division; and this did not increase the popularity of the 116th. (As later pointed out by our C.O., we were not only the “baby” battalion of the Canadian Corps, but we were also the “orphan” battalion.) In addition to our family troubles we were without field kitchens or transport, which made things far from comfortable, and it is certain that during this period our inexperience proved to be our salvation. We were fresh and eager to do credit to the name of our unit and our Commanding Officer (Col. Sharpe), whose untiring energies had succeeded in gaining a place for us in France; so we dealt with our experiences as we found them and passed through them to others. Bramshott Group (1916) Back Row:—Lts. R. C. Henry, M. R. Jacobi, A. W. Baird, F. W. Ott, R. J. Blain, W. S. Duncan, J. A. Proctor, W. J. Preston, M. Crabtree, C. L. S. Newton. Third Row:—Lt. H. H. Hyland, Lt. J. J. Doble, Capt. W. E. Shier, Maj. F. H. Moody, Maj. H. P. Cooke, Capt. A. F. Hind, Maj. G. W. P. Every, Capt. A. W. Pratt, Capt. H. V. Gould, Capt. H. L. Major, Capt. G. E. Gilfillan. Second Row:—Lt. T. W. Hutchison, Lt. G. E. Walls, Capt. J. Moore, M.O., Capt. A. W. McConnell (Adjutant), Maj. R. B. Smith, Lt.-Col. S. S. Sharp, Maj. C. A. V. McCormack, Capt. J. Garbutt, Capt. A. C. McFarlane, Capt. N. E. Fairhead, Capt. C. G. Cowan. Front Row:—Lt. C. S. Lennox, Lt. J. H. Hughes, Lt. K. L. Wallace. larger imageWhilst at Haillicourt the Battalion was inspected by Major-General Lipsett, G.O.C. 3rd Division, and by Lieut.-General Sir Julian Byng, G.O.C. Canadian Corps, and after about two weeks’ training in the new platoon formation we were moved to Faucquenheim, in order to be closer to the other battalions of the 9th Brigade. The real reason for this move was made obvious during the next few days when orders were received on the 5th March for the Battalion to be split up in the following manner:—
The object of this being to give the Battalion training in actual warfare with men who were already experienced in front line work. Further, each Company was split up so that one platoon was apportioned to each Company of the different Battalions as above, and all that now remained of the youthful 116th was an ardent desire to get through the “baptism of fire” with as much glory and as few casualties as possible. On the 11th March the 9th Brigade, composed of the 43rd, 52nd, 58th and 60th Battalions, moved into the trenches at the foot of Vimy Ridge, accompanied by their unwelcome but willing guests from the 116th. Apart from working parties and general trench routine, which to the inexperienced is all more or less exciting (especially the working parties), nothing of any great military value was accomplished during this tour, and by the 25th of the month our Battalion was reassembled at old friend Houdain, where the experiences of the past fortnight were feverishly discussed and compared. It was generally conceded that trench warfare had not all the advantages the instructors at Bramshott had claimed for it, and that “Take Me Back to Dear Old Blighty” was not such a rotten song after all. Several of the Companies had encountered mud in the trenches, well over their knees, and, as military overcoats are not constructed for mud wading, a great many of the men in these Companies, following the advice of the “old” soldiers in the Battalions to which they were attached, had cut their coats in accordance, not with orders from the 9th Brigade, but with the depth of the mud encountered. As these tailoring alterations were for the most part made by means of the Service Jack Knife the results were hardly in keeping with (K.R. and O.), and by the look on the C.O.’s face when he inspected the Battalion for the first time after its reassembly at Houdain there was certainly trouble in store for somebody. The next day saw about 200 brave, but ragged warriors, lined up outside Battalion Orderly Room, awaiting sentence for destroying Government property. The sentences were not severe, but the Battalion tailor had his hands full for a while. Vimy Ridge. Our sojourn in Houdain was short and sweet. The villagers did everything in their power to make us comfortable, and in return the local estaminets were well patronized. The boys of No. 7 platoon who were quartered in a brewery were particularly loath to leave, but a pile of trouble was in store for the Canadians, and it was quite universally known that on the 9th of April the Canadian Corps was to carry out an operation in conjunction with Imperial troops that would result in the immediate departure of the enemy from the summit of Vimy Ridge. For two years he had looked down into our trenches from the top of that accursed ridge, which had been lost by the French in the early days of the war. He could see the country behind our lines for a distance of about 5 miles, and although every artifice in the dictionary of camouflage had been used to conceal the hundreds of guns which were hauled in, under cover of darkness, for the attack, Mister Fritz could not help seeing something of our preparations. His nerves were certainly on edge, but it was equally certain that he underestimated both the strength and number of our guns and the courage of the assaulting troops. To drive him from the top of the ridge we must advance a distance of nearly three miles, uphill, over deep mud and shell holes, and through barbed wire entanglements strung across the front in a way that only Germans with a dread of British steel know how to do. Such an advance, even without a shot being fired from his lines, would be quite an undertaking; and so he sat back in his deep dug-outs around the “Zwichen Stellung,” and smiled at the idea of anyone taking that comfortable home away from him. This, then, was the situation when we received orders on the 7th of April to vacate our billets in Houdain and take over a series of mud holes on the top of Mt. St. Eloi, called Dumbell Camp. From this position, which was right on the edge of a wood (Bois Des Alleux), we had a wonderful view of Vimy Ridge, and also made an equally wonderful target for Fritz’s high-velocity gunners, who seemed to suspect, and rightly so, that that wood of ours was a good hiding place for troops. (There must have been at least two Brigades in the vicinity, to say nothing of countless ammunition dumps and big guns.) His shooting was erratic so far as we were concerned, the shells either going over our heads into the Engineers’ Camp or falling short amongst the mud holes of another battalion. And here we stayed until the morning of the 9th of April, which was the day set for the attack. No definite position among the assaulting troops was assigned to us, the whole of the 9th Brigade being in reserve, but we were told that we would be used to consolidate the captured trenches, and that we might win much honour and glory by conveying ammunition and trench material to the front line, in the event of a successful attack. These little jobs sound rather tame in comparison with honest fighting, but in reality they require just as much skill and courage. Ask any infantry man which he would rather do—go “over the top” or be in reserve and do working parties, and he will choose “going over the top” every time. We had not yet reached the point where we could appreciate these little distinctions, and in consequence were inclined to underestimate the importance of the part allotted to us. The dawn of the 9th of April, 1917, saw perhaps the fiercest and most scientific artillery barrage of the war (so far) let loose on the German front and support line trenches. Fritz must surely have realized that this was something more than the daily “warm up,” which our artillery had been giving him during the last three weeks, and when its full meaning had sunk into his thick and short-cropped head his feelings must have been far from happy. The boot was to be on the other foot now, for instead of watching us swimming around in the mud of the Souchez Valley, we were soon to see him flying across the lowland which stretches from the eastern side of the Ridge towards Avion and Lens, with the lash of our shells and bullets around his ears. From our position we could see only the flash of the guns as it was scarcely daylight, when, like a mighty earthquake, the artillery burst forth, sounding the keynote of the advance to our waiting comrades in the trenches. Gazing into the smoke and dust, caused by the bursting shells, we vainly tried to picture the drama that had just begun, and many a prayer for success went up from the watchers on Mount St. Eloi that morning. The attack was evidently progressing, for soon after zero hour, we received orders for one Company to go forward immediately, three platoons to act as carrying parties, and one platoon for wiring in front of some strong points which were to be established by the P.P.C.L.I. The order in which our Companies would be used had been previously decided by ballot, for it goes without saying that all four Companies were anxious to be first—“B” Company were the lucky ones, and under Major Moody, moved out accompanied by a detachment of Engineers under whose supervision the defences of the strong points would be constructed. “A” Company (Major Cooke), “C” Company (Major Currie), and “D” Company (Major Bird) moved out later in the day. The work by these Companies, acting independently for the first time, deserves the highest praise, and their adventures throughout that memorable day would almost fill a book in themselves. The Sector of the ridge where our Companies were employed had been cleared of the enemy and by the time that No. 8 platoon had reached the new front line around La Folie Farm, the German artillerymen, who up till now had been chiefly engaged in dragging their guns to safety, were searching the top of the ridge in an endeavour to retard the work of consolidation. They must have sighted No. 8 platoon, for no sooner had our men begun work on the wiring schemes than a veritable hail of shells was poured into them. In spite of heavy casualties the work of consolidation was continued and completed, and towards midnight all companies reported in to Dumbell Camp, having lost ten men killed and thirty wounded, including Company Sergeant Major Graves. The reports from all parts of the line fulfilled the highest expectations, and the prisoners’ cages were crowded beyond capacity, but for the next few days there was to be no rest for anyone until our new line had been so firmly established as to admit of no possibility for a successful counter-attack by the Bosch. The following day the Battalion furnished parties to assist in the general work of consolidation, and at about 5 o’clock in the evening, orders were received for us to take over the front line from the 8th Brigade, composed of the 1st, 2nd, 4th and 5th Battalions, C.M.R. It looked as if we might get into some of the fighting after all, and with very mixed feelings the inevitable advance party, consisting of 1 officer and 1 N.C.O. from each Company and H.Q., started out in the direction of a certain map location called “Spandau Haus” where the C.M.R. Battalions had established their headquarters. The line of march brought us through territory already well known—Berthonval Farm, La Targette Corners, Goodman Tunnel, Chassery Crater, etc., and further on, through territory fresh with the smell of the Bosch. It is a very curious sensation to walk boldly across the shell holes, which only recently were called “No Man’s Land,” and over which we had been wont to crawl about with our noses pretty close to the ground. By the time we reached Spandau Haus, night had set in, and to look over the line with any intelligence would be an impossibility. This must have been a very joyous relief to the C.M.R.’s, for they were all dog tired, and to have to more or less instruct a new Battalion in all the intricacies of a newly captured position was asking them a little too much after their experiences of the last 36 hours. This is evidently what Divisional Headquarters thought too, for by the time our party had returned to Dumbell Camp, having carefully marked on their maps all the information possible, it was announced that the relief of the 8th Brigade by our Battalion had been cancelled, and that the 60th Battalion would go forward in our place—shouts of joy, especially by the advance party, who had done ten miles in the pouring rain. Instead, therefore, of holding Vimy Ridge against the now infuriated Bosch, we were reduced to taking over the support trenches soon to be vacated by the 60th, and at dusk the following day, during a heavy fall of snow, these changes were successfully carried out. The Battalion was shelled heavily by 5.9’s just as it reached the old crater line, and had several casualties, including Lt. John Doble, who was killed. During the next ten days the whole Battalion was engaged in the reconstruction of the Lens-Arras road, between ThÉlus and Vimy, which had been rendered practically impassable by the recent barrages. This work was both laborious and nerve-racking. Fritz was quite aware that the road was one of our only lines of communication, having used it himself, and consequently he was not going to let us put it into good condition for nothing. Every variety of “hate,” large and small, and generally in series of four, was thrown at that road blocked with mule transport, guns, ambulances, and working parties (chiefly 116th Battalion)? and it is the most extraordinary thing that the work of reconstruction progressed as favorably as it did, and that there were not more casualties. During this period opportunities were afforded us for looking over the Corps front from the top of the ridge, and for admiring the recent work of our own artillery on the German defences. Whilst reconnoitring the forward positions Lt. W. K. Kift and Lt. H. L. Major both received wounds from which they afterwards died. The laborious work of road-making with its daily toll of casualties continued, until one day, a note from Battalion Headquarters announced that we would not become a fighting unit as heretofore decided, but that we would be made into a pioneer battalion and be attached permanently to the 8th Brigade. All this in the interest of the Corps, etc., etc., etc. We were still “chewing the rag” over this latest development when along came the Colonel himself to announce that all previous orders regarding pioneer battalions had been cancelled, and that it had been definitely decided for us to take over the 60th Battalion. In order to do this with the least confusion possible, we were to be moved back to the Berthonval Farm area, where Fritz’s shells were not likely to disturb us, all of which prophecies excepting the one concerning the shells came true. Umpty Umps. The successful capture of Vimy Ridge ended another chapter in the annals of the Canadian Corps which was soon to be regarded as second to none on the Western front. It also witnessed the birth of a new battalion, whose fame up to the present, had not extended beyond the borders of the County of Ontario, but whose ideals, if lived up to, would make it second to none in the gallant Corps to which it now belonged. The recent successes had not been achieved without heavy casualties, and when these casualties were made good by reinforcements it was quite evident that the other Battalions in our Division were not greatly superior to our own in the way of old and experienced soldiers. Their Headquarters were, of course, composed of men who had seen considerable fighting, but otherwise from now on we were all more or less on an equal footing. The months of May and June slipped away, with nothing more important being allotted to us than taking over a line of trenches and holding them; in fact, the usual trench routine with working parties mixed in. As a special treat one night we were allowed to dig a jumping-off trench for another Battalion, who were conducting a raid in our Sector; but anything in the nature of real fighting was considered beyond us for the present, although there was a certain amount going on practically all the time, the Bosch being pushed gently but firmly away from the Ridge as far as Avion and MÉricourt—a distance of four miles. In these minor operations, as they were called, the 116th was either detailed as the supporting Battalion or else the reserve Battalion for the Brigade, and as the Bosch showed very little inclination to remain in his then exposed positions, the result was that by the middle of July the “Umpty Umps” (as we had been nicknamed, not wholly in fun, by the older units) had not been actually engaged in any action of a direct nature whatsoever. In spite of this, our casualties had been quite heavy, indicating that the main line of resistance is not always the healthiest place to occupy during an engagement; in fact, with the exception of Major Currie, “C” Company, not one of our original Company Commanders remained. During one of these tours in the line one of our companies came across a memorial to the 60th Battalion erected by some of their men close to the Village of Vimy. The memorial was in the shape of a cross with the inscription “In memory of the 60th Battalion. 1915—Raised by Patriotism. 1917—Killed by Politics.” A reflection perhaps not entirely without foundation. On the 5th of July the 9th Brigade was withdrawn to Divisional reserve at Chateau de la Haie—meaning that for a week at least we would have no working parties, also that we would all get an opportunity of having a real live shower bath and a change of underclothes, which in most cases was an urgent necessity. It was during this period that the Brigade Commander announced his intention of formally inspecting us, and at the completion of his inspection, having congratulated us on our good appearance and also our general behaviour since joining his Brigade, he pointed out that although we had shown extraordinary ability at baseball and other sports, having lately won the Brigade Championship, much to the discomfiture of the older Battalions, we had not so far proved our ability in the noblest sport of all, namely, that of “strafing the Hun.” Proceeding, he indicated that we would be given every opportunity to do this during the next tour of the Brigade in the line. This announcement was greeted by “prolonged cheering,” for there was nothing to our minds so alluring as the anticipation of getting to grips with an enemy who had inflicted casualties amongst us, and upon whom we had had no opportunity for retaliation. Great was the excitement after the departure of the Brigadier, and many the conjectures as to the nature of the “opportunity” we had so long been waiting for; even the visit of King George V., for whom we lined the road that afternoon, did little or nothing in removing the one thought that was uppermost in the mind of each one of us. Having no scheme of our own, it was evidently the duty of Divisional or Brigade H.Q. to devise some scheme for us, and this they were not long in doing, for on the 12th of July—four days after the visit of the Brigadier—we received orders that instead of proceeding up the line with the rest of the Brigade we would occupy Comak Camp in the neighborhood of Berthonval Farm and there carry out practices over taped trenches for a raid, the details of which would be disclosed to us later. The Raid. Just to the south of the Village of Avion there is situated a colliery called FossÉ 4, with its necessary attendant, a large and ugly slag heap, shaped like a truncated cone. If our front line, at that time, might be considered as a line running due east and west and just to the south of Avion, then FossÉ 4 was almost entirely within the German lines, with just the southern fringe of the slag heap extending into “No Man’s Land.” The German front line, so far as this account is concerned, extended round the base of the slag heap and then south-east, where it joined a system of trenches known as the MÉricourt Maze at about two hundred and fifty yards distance. About 300 yards behind the German front line and running parallel to it was a railway embankment, scarcely less than 24 feet in height; and about midway between the German lines and our own and parallel to our line was a road (Quebec Road). Scatter around a few rows of ruined houses, a garden fence, and a couple of brick piles and you will have what the 3rd Divisional Staff considered to be an ideal location for a raid. The slag heap was reported to be a veritable nest of machine guns, and trench mortars; the railway embankment was believed to be fairly honeycombed with dug-outs, but all that was actually and really known was that the German front line was strongly barricaded and full of Germans, and that Quebec Road was partly sunken and full of wire. The place and opportunity having therefore been supplied it remained for us to fix the time and arrange the details. Immediately upon arrival at Comak Camp a stretch of ground was selected for practice, and the Engineers who started at once to work on the taped trenches, made such good progress that the following morning everything was in readiness for our first trial. In the meantime a plan of attack was formulated, of which the following is a brief rÉsumÉ: “A” Company (Capt. Gould) would capture and hold the German front line (known as Metal Trench) looking after any machine guns and trench mortar posts found on the slag heap, together with all dug-outs in the neighborhood. “B” Company (Capt. Allen) on the left, and “C” Company (Major Currie) on the right would pass through “A” Company continuing on to the railway embankment, which they would proceed to capture, destroying all dug-outs and M.G. emplacements. Upon a given signal from Battalion Headquarters raiding Companies would retire, protected by covering parties left along the railway embankment and communication trenches, “A” Company to remain in Metal Trench until all of “B” and “C” Companies had withdrawn. The most unpleasant job of all, perhaps, that of holding the Battalion front during the raid, was assigned to “D” Company (Capt. Ritchie). The attack was to be carried out at night (1 a.m.) and under cover of an artillery and M.G. Barrage. For the next few days the one topic of conversation was the raid, and at least two practices a day were carried out over the taped trenches, until we considered ourselves perfect enough to invite the Divisional and Brigade Commanders to attend our final practice before going into the line. This they did and pronounced themselves well satisfied. During these preparations our Commanding Officer, Col. S. Sharpe, was untiring in his energies towards overcoming the numerous difficulties that so frequently presented themselves, and he personally led a reconnoitring party into Avion in broad daylight, which enabled us to overlook the territory to be raided from the second story of a ruined house. On the 18th of July we received orders to move into the line and to take over the trenches occupied by the 5th C.M.R. At dusk that evening the Battalion assembled, and after wishing God-speed to Major Cameron, our Second in Command, who was leaving that night for Canada, a most stirring and eloquent address was made by Col. Sharpe; so that when we moved off by Companies in the direction of Vimy Ridge, to the strains of “John Peel,” the regimental march, there was scarcely a more confident lot of men in the whole Allied Army. At about 9.30 p.m., on the 22nd July, a start was made to assemble the raiding Companies behind Quebec Road, which was the jumping-off position for the raid. Each man was equipped with an electric torch-light for use in the German lines, and a large white patch was sewn on the front of everybody’s box respirator, which was thought to be a good means of identification in the dark. About midnight, therefore, the platoons were being led quietly and stealthily into position. Suddenly the bells in the German trenches, not a hundred yards from the right flank, began to ring; gas fumes were rapidly making their way over our positions. It was difficult to tell whether the gas was merely lachrymatory or poisonous, and at the first indication every officer and man had slipped on his gas helmet. It is hard enough to find your way about in the dark under ordinary conditions, but with a gas helmet on it is absolutely impossible, and in less time than it takes to tell, the greatest confusion arose, and the success of the whole operation hung in the balance. A desperate situation confronted the Battalion; in a little while our artillery barrage would open, and its programme would be carried out while our men were stumbling blindly through the gas fumes, and in due course the enemy artillery would open up in retaliation, and our men, helpless with their gas helmets on, would be wiped out without a chance for their lives. For about thirty minutes the situation was critical and fraught with the greatest difficulties; the darkness, the gas, the fumes, the irregularities of the ground, wire entanglements, ruins, shell holes, all combined to make the assembling of our companies slow and difficult. Chances had to be taken, and gas helmets were removed, the mouthpiece alone being used, and in this manner, our eyes streaming with tears and nerves strung to the highest pitch, we eventually reached our positions around the Quebec Road about five minutes before zero hour. Exactly on the stroke of one the barrage opened, falling like a hailstorm on the German front line, which was lit up along its entire length by the bursting shells. It was certainly an unmerciful pounding and seemed to fill us with an ardent desire to get over there, and like Julius Caesar, “negotium finire.” As the barrage opened “A” Company crept across the Quebec Road through the lanes in the wire which had been previously cut by the scouts, and at zero, plus three minutes, at which moment the barrage lifted off Metal Trench to the Railway embankment, they rushed forward, closely followed by “B” Company on the left and “C” Company on the right. By the time “A” Company reached Metal Trench the Huns had begun to pour out of their dug-outs in which they had taken refuge during the shell storm, and hand-to-hand fighting ensued, in which many of the enemy were either killed or taken prisoners; leaving “A” Company to deal with the destruction of the dug-outs and the capture of the slag heap, as previously arranged, “B” and “C” Companies proceeded to the final objective. As already anticipated, our greatest trouble was to be from the flanks, and during the final stages of the attack, in which “B” and “C” Companies rushed the embankment, capturing many prisoners, some enemy machine guns came into action and inflicted heavy casualties on us. In spite of this, everything seemed to be happening just in the way we had practised it at Berthonval Farm, even the special carrying parties that were to bring up trench mats for crossing the wire believed to exist around the embankment, arrived, and were much disappointed when they were told they would not be needed. Also the signallers specially attached to Companies for communication with Battalion Headquarters came through, but were unable to use their lamps on account of the smoke and gas. Considerable trouble was experienced with refractory prisoners, and the evacuation of our casualties was a matter of the greatest difficulty, since by the time “B” and “C” Companies had reached the embankment all sense of direction was lost on account of the darkness and gas fumes, which were now blowing back over the German lines. The work of destruction completed, the two Companies, “B” and “C”, withdrew as best they could, covered by sections, one from each platoon, acting as a rear-guard. Observation posts were left on the Railway Embankment at each flank with supporting posts behind them, “A” Company remaining in Metal Trench until “B” and “C” Companies had completed their withdrawal. The observation posts were chiefly organized by Lt. Lennox of “B” Company and Lt. Neil of “C” Company, who were in command of the flank platoons. “D” Company had detailed parties under Lt. Weber and Lt. Lick, which were to relieve at daybreak the posts left respectively by “B” and “C” Companies. Lt. Lick was, however, killed by a shell near Metal Trench, and his sergeant and corporal wounded. Lt. Weber went up on the left and reached Metal Trench, but at 4.45 a.m. the Germans had counter-attacked in force and our posts withdrew fighting as ordered. When it was learned that Lt. Neil and Lt. Lick were killed and that Lt. Lennox and Lt. Weber were missing a party was sent up Meander Trench to assist the posts. This party got out between Metal Trench and the Railway Embankment just as the Germans began to swarm over it, and also attack from the flank. Our party was obliged to withdraw, taking the balance of the men on the posts with it. Stiff fighting took place all the way back, and many of the enemy were killed. In such an operation it would be very difficult and most unfair to mention the work of any one particular platoon, section, or man, since all we had planned to do was done, and this in the face of many serious handicaps. The care of our wounded was now the first consideration, and Capt. Moore, with his staff, who had established an advance Regimental Aid Post (later known as “Moore’s Aid Post”) at the junction of the Lens-Arras Railway and the Avion Road, were busy until daylight, when a German observation balloon caught sight of them, and they were forced by heavy shell fire to retire to a more protected position. And so it was only through the co-operation and courage of all ranks that we had at last won the right to our place in the 9th Brigade and the Canadian Corps. Let it be said that this was only one of a great many successful raids carried out by Canadian troops, and which made them famous on all the Western front. In sum we had captured 60 prisoners, including two officers, and killed at least twice that number, our own casualties being five officers—Lts. V. C. Lick, C. S. Lennox, F. S. Neil, T. W. Hutchison, G. R. Weber—and twenty-five other ranks killed, three officers and forty-two other ranks wounded. It might be of interest to compare the two communiquÉs published shortly afterwards: | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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