2nd Battle of Ypres - Canadian Revenge

The enemy kept up hard shelling everywhere. It sounded like one continual roar of shells bursting over us, with bullets and splinters knocking lumps off of my dugout. I really thought that this place might be the finishing touch. Of all the places I had been throughout the campaign, this was by far the worst. It seemed impossible for one to live long in it.
I had a few hours’ sleep, yet was awakened now and again when a large shell burst somewhere nearby. At daylight we were at it again.The first thing that met George this morning was a shell dropping just the other side of the hedge. It fell among what had been a Canadian Battery Wagon line.
It didn’t matter that the shell fell there, because most of the men had been killed when the Germans bayoneted them while they slept.The enemy also hung a Canadian officer to a barn and used bayonets to crucify a sergeant of the Canadian Scottish army to the barn door.
The Canadians’ wagon line once had 200 horses and now only a dozen horses remain.. If this wasn’t enough, all of the Canadian guns were captured by the enemy.All this happened when the Germans broke through our lines the previous week.

Later the Canadians were revenged through a magnificent charge by their infantry.They are considered to be fine fellows and splendid fighters. They hated the Germans and cursed them for their murderous ways of waging war.

I was told that a couple of days previous the Canadian Scottish were ordered to retire, but refused to do so. Instead of retiring as ordered, they charged the enemy on their own. It was a mad thing to do for they lost over 500 men, although they captured 100 or more prisoners.
I dare say that not one of the captured Germans was brought down as a prisoner.

All the soldiers in the Allied Armies started fighting like the enemy, no quarter given, and the Canadians gave none. As evidence of this, just to the rear of our guns, there was the corpse of a husky Prussian guardsman - a fine figure of a man who stood fully at 6 foot 3 inches in height.The Canadians had pinned him to a tree with a bayonet. They stuck a postcard on his forehead that said, “Canada does not forget!” Then someone had written, “We’ll give them crucify” next to the word “Canada”.
The cruel and barbaric happenings around this period would fill a book with horrors of all descriptions.The merciless style of war created by the Germans carried over to their enemy. The centuries that it has taken to develop the meaning behind the word “civilized” has only taken a couple of years to reduce to “barbaric.”
I was pleased with the splendid fighting of both the Canadians and the Indian troops and proud that they were fighting with us. By the end of November, truly enough Canadians had served in the battle of Ypres as did the 7th, 8th, and 1st British Divisions.

Milking Goats

While mending breaks in the wire, Fred and George noticed a farm house and decided to investigate. The small farm that had chickens, rabbits, and other provisions in the house. It had been left by the inhabitants, which meant that they were forced to leave in a hurry.
Along with the other animals George and I found a few goats which we collared. I was content listening to the milk splashing into my pail. I looked up to see how George was progressing. He had a puzzled look on his face, as he attempted to find udders on a billy goat. I had a good laugh about that one! Entering the house we took our fill of the available food then returned to the battery with the remaining goat’s milk and provisions.
Later I prevailed upon Old George to slip over to the farm to make a can of tea and bring it back, while I attended to the firing. No sooner had he left than a German horse artillery battery opened dead range upon us and kept up a hot fire for a period of time.
The shelling was so terrible that nothing could have lived above the ground.We were absolutely tied to our little trenches, making it impossible for us to return fire.
The shelling went on for two hours.All I could think about was Old George and how he must have been caught by the shelling on his way to the farm. I was greatly surprised to see him crawling along the trenches with the can in his hand.
While George made his way along the trenches, three guys and two officers, one of whom was Lt. Marshall, stood up and shouted at George to get under cover.
I was also yelling at George at the same time as Lt. Marshall, when I heard a whining and a bang. Lt. Marshall collapsed with seven shrapnel bullets in him; all this happened in a flash.


Old George must have had a charmed life, being able to get to and back from the farm through all of the shelling and live through it.To me it was marvelous.
Even though Lt. Marshall was wounded, George and I drank the tea for it cost near one life and a dozen very narrow escapes. The tea was even better when we added the goat’s milk I had procured earlier.

First Ypres - Continued

On October 31 the Germans attacked the British lines along a narrow front on the Messines Ridge, forcing the British troops from their position.The enemy continued advancing until General Haig’s First Corps staged a ferocious counterattack.

The German Army continued their mission to break through the British line, but whenever this was accomplished, a British counterattack would drive it back to its prior position.

It wasn't until the onset of winter weather that there was a break in the fighting. The combat had been so unrelenting, and the loss of life so horrific, that the British survivors were content to say that a man was not a soldier unless he had served on the Ypres front. Of the one- hundred and sixty thousand men sent to France with the BEF, thirty per- cent were either killed in action or died of their wounds. Nevertheless, ninety percent of them were impacted by the encounter in some way, with either physical injuries or some form of mental and/or emotional distress


Fred Coxen and the rest of 40 battery left the church and returned to the main force, however, establishing a forward observation post was still necessary so Fred and his friend George were ordered to run wire to a convent that was in close proximity to the British troops.

Running wire was a dangerous job because often the runners were exposed to sniper fire and artillery shelling. Often, when shelling was the the heaviest, wires were severed  and the telephonist/signalers would have to crawl along the wire to find and fix the breaks. Fred describes one of his near death experiences:

We rejoined the guns without mishap. George Millington and I were ordered to lay our wire to a large deserted convent near our infantry.As we ran the wire we were sniped at pretty hard by Germans hidden in houses to our left; one missed me by inches. The next morning I went back to the spot, found the bullet, and saved it as a souvenir.
In the afternoon the French infantry had been forced to re- tire; our infantry went up to hold what the French had lost. Although they were greatly outnumbered, they held.
We were firing at very short range, even though we knew we would be observed by the enemy.
The night passed quickly. We were dug in by the side of a stream, which effectually screened us from the continual pres- ence of rifle bullets. We had to go without food all day and were not pleased with the events.

Often soldiers would take advantage or the opportunity of adding variety to their rations when they found food sources in abandoned homes or buildings.

October 22nd
George and I laid our wire to the convent. We described it as heavenly, for it was well-stocked with provisions.We found biscuits, butter, and jam, George and I had a good feast and brought some away with us for the battery.
It got pretty warm getting back to the guns. The enemy sniped at us across a large scarred field. 

Military life during the war could be best described by hours of boredom interspersed with split seconds of terror. Boredom is the devil's playground and men with time on their hands find creative ways to amuse themselves.

While waiting for us to set up good communications, two signalers dug a shallow trench by the edge of the field. They amused themselves by putting their hats on a flagpole, raising them until the crown of the hat was just above the crest of the trench.Tempting the Germans to shoot at them proved to be an amusing diversion.

We fired hard all morning. The enemy replying on the village did grand shooting on the church, where shell after shell passed through the steeple. Finally the church caught fire and was soon one mass of flames. The clock steeple collapsed with a crash; it was a dramatic sight. It seemed that they wanted to get at our battery for they shelled the fellows in front and behind our wagon line, wounding a few men and killing some horses.
Fortunately for those of us at the guns, only a few men were wounded. 

Our infantry was forced to retire, so we requested an infantry escort of 100 men for our guns. All they could send us was one platoon of 20 men. At dark, George Millington (“Old George”) had gone along the wire to forage for food. While he was gone, bullets were very plentiful. Eight of us clutched to our little trench, waiting for him to get into communication and return with the spoils.
Things seemed to quiet down for about half an hour when suddenly the Germans played a machine gun dead on us. We thought they had us.Although we did not know it, the infantry was on our left.They had moved while we were waiting for George.
As the infantry took care of the machine gun, I heard strange rustling sounds in the bushes on the other side of the stream. For a moment I thought it was some of the German snipers getting in our rear. I crawled very cautiously on my hands and knees along the stream to a small bridge crossing. I found after no little time that the sound I had heard was caused by some rabbits that our chaps released from an adjoining 

farm.

It was amusing to think about it afterwards but not at the time.

Old George returned, loaded with goods. When I mentioned the machine gun and the rabbit stalking he said, “Blast the guns and rabbits, and have a bit of this strawberry jam, Old China. It’s the goods.” I declined the food for I was too dry to eat.

Nothing drinkable was to be had except the water in the stream and that was dirty.The rest of the night passed rather quietly. In the morning, out of desperation, I was compelled to drink some of the stream water.

Ypres, October 1914

October 17th–18th
We traveled by train through Amiens, Boulogne, Calais, and detrained at Hazebrouck, which was 25 miles from the Belgium border. This is where we bivouacked for the night.

October 19th
After marching to Cassel we had a day’s rest. During the
march my charger had a severe choke. He came down with me on him; but I managed to help him up. When we arrived in Cassel we were greatly elated to be in a town and feasted ourselves on cakes and sweets. After the hardships of the previous weeks, this was a grand change indeed.

During the battle of Anise the French and Germany armies tried to outflank each other and in the process they were leapfrogging west towards the French port cities. Churchill pulled the BEF out of the Battle of Anise in order to stop the Germans before they reached their goal. 

Fred road along with his battery to the Belgian city of Poperinghe where he wrote the following journal entry.


October 20th
The battery marched to the city of Poperinghe and once again we were in Belgium. It was an awful sight to see all of the refugees streaming into Poperinghe from the outlying towns and villages; they were trying to keep ahead of the rapidly advancing enemy. I happened to stop to pat a pretty little child on her head and gave her some biscuits that I had in my pocket. The poor little mite was simply starving. Within a minute I was surrounded by starving children. I emptied my pockets and haversack. Then, with a couple of chums, we collected all the biscuits and Bully Beef in the battery and gave them to the women and children.

It was pitiful to see the children struggling to get at us. It was even a harder job to keep away the hungry Belgian men because we didn’t have anything for them. We had given the women and kiddies everything we had in the food line. That night we bivouacked outside the town.



Early the next morning the Division marched to the villiage of Langemarke and as they approached it they could hear that it was being heavly shelled. In order for the battery to engage, they required a forward observation post so Fred and a couple of other field telephone operators set out to locate a spot. 


October 21st
Before dawn we marched towards the village of Langemarke. As we approached the village it was being heavily shelled. I, and a couple of others, reconnoitered the area for some time, and failed to find a good position for an observation post. 

Finally two gun sections took up positions in the rear of the church while I went with the remaining section through the village. As we passed through a square, we saw lots of wounded French soldiers in the open by the churchyard.

My section dropped into action by the railway, and again, we attempted to find an observation station. I stopped by a deserted powerhouse that I thought could be used. 

Later I, along with the remaining battery staff, were ordered to regain the two sections at the rear of the church. 


As we went towards the railway crossing, a shell burst in the center of the road, about 30 or 40 yards ahead of us. This all occurred as we galloped past the church wall. Fortunately the
shrapnel struck the wall, otherwise it would have been right among us.

I galloped past the spot where I had seen the wounded Frenchmen just two hours before. The whole lot was dead and in pieces. It was a horrible sight.


Initially they Germans struck the Belgian defenses on the Yser River near Nieuport. The Belgian forces were unable to hold their positions against the enemy therefore to prevent the Germans from bypassing Ypres, the Belgians opened the sluice gates and flooded the surrounding land. 

The Germans were compelled to reconsider their plans, opting to launch a series of attacks against the city of Ypres.


The British dug trench defensive positions around Ypres in the shape of a small salient and they held a thirty-five-mile-long line in the center of the bulge, while the French Army protected the British flank south of the city.

The stage was set for what would be one of the most horrific battles of the war, The Battle of Ypres. 

Train Ride to The Frontier

As indicated by my August 20 entry, we boarded a train that would transport us to an unknown destination. I was gazing out the train’s window as it passed through Amiens and other towns along the way. I noticed that whenever the train stopped at a station, the grateful inhabitants of the town would be waiting to display appreciation for our arrival. Every station seemed to be crowded with people who showered flowers, chocolate, smokes, and drinks of all kinds on the troops and many Tommies got their first kiss from a French lady.


August 21st
Everywhere the French people gave the troops a hearty welcome,
and then it occurred to me that just perhaps the people
may have realized more than us what events were impending.

While halted outside Maubeuge, the French caught a woman
with two pigeons concealed in her basket; one she had already
dispatched without ceremony. The French shot her in a
field just on our left.

While the train rambled on, George Bramwell, Pudgie Taylor, Bobby Glue and I were absorbing the impact of watching the execution, making us aware of the realities of war. Our conversation turned to the possibility of fighting the Germans in the near future. Each of us wondered what it would be like to be in a battle where shells were exploding and the sounds of bullets whistling through the air. During a somber moment, we each voiced our concerns about death. Our concerns were focused on our loved ones back home and how they would take the news.

Pudgie said that the army sent the family a telegram offering their condolences. We all agreed that this method lacked the personal touch a family would require upon hearing of a loved one's death. It was at this moment that George said that the four of us should make a promise. Commit to each other, that should any of us survive the war, the survivor(s) would call on the families of the fallen and tell them of  their death. Bobby, Pudgie and I looked at George and thought of the merit of his idea. In a show of solidarity we shook hands thus sealing our commitment. I didn't know then that this would haunt me the rest of my life.

Traveling To The Belgian Frontier

As indicated by my August 20 entry, we boarded a train that would transport us to an unknown destination. I was gazing out the train’s window as it passed through Amiens and other towns along the way. I noticed that whenever the train stopped at a station, the grateful inhabitants of the town would be waiting to display appreciation for our arrival. Every station seemed to be crowded with people who showered flowers, chocolate, smokes, and drinks of all kinds on the troops and many Tommies got their first kiss from a French lady.


August 21st
Everywhere the French people gave the troops a hearty welcome,
and then it occurred to me that just perhaps the people
may have realized more than us what events were impending.

While halted outside Maubeuge, the French caught a woman
with two pigeons concealed in her basket; one she had already
dispatched without ceremony. The French shot her in a
field just on our left.

While the train rambled on, George Bramwell, Pudgie Taylor, Bobby Glue and I were absorbing the impact of watching the execution, making us aware of the realities of war. Our conversation turned to the possibility of fighting the Germans in the near future. Each of us wondered what it would be like to be in a battle where shells were exploding and the sounds of bullets whistling through the air. During a somber moment, we each voiced our concerns about death. Our concerns were focused on our loved ones back home and how they would take the news.

Pudgie said that the army sent the family a telegram offering their condolences. We all agreed that this method lacked the personal touch a family would require upon hearing of a loved one's death. It was at this moment that George said that the four of us should make a promise. Commit to each other, that should any of us survive the war, the survivor(s) would call on the families of the fallen and tell them of  their death. Bobby, Pudgie and I looked at George and thought of the merit of his idea. In a show of solidarity we shook hands thus sealing our commitment. I didn't know then that this would haunt me the rest of my life.

Next Stop France

August 5th
I did not dwell on the thoughts of leaving my dear little wife, my mother, and baby — the journey up north was one of enthusiasm, for the train was packed with reservists, rejoining the Colours, as I. All seemed absolutely mad to go and obliterate Germany!

I couldn't partake in the excitement exhibited by my compatriots, for I was consumed in thought of what will become of my family; what fate awaited me!

The train arrived at its destination and the process of assemulation into war began.

August 6–7th

Upon arriving I had to draw a kit from supply and then on to the doctor in order to pass my physical. Upon doing so, I was detailed to join the 39th Battery, assigned to Surplus Details, as acting Quarter Master Sergeant at Borden Camp. I was very disappointed, for this meant that I should not go to the front yet.
Later I was informed that I would be part of the nucleus of a Reserve Brigade that was being formed at Shorncliffe. I ar- rived at Borden and ran into my old commanding officer who seemed to feel great satisfaction in seeing me.
I immediately volunteered for active service but had a little trouble getting past the red tape, until seeking help from Brigadier Clark. It wasn’t long after that I was assigned to the First Corps, 43rd Brigade, First Division at Deepcut.

I was to report for duty on the 14th of August. After reporting in, I was so glad to meet a couple of chums that were also assigned to the 40th Battery RFA.

We embarked at Southampton on the SS City of Chester. It was an uneventful trip over the channel to where we disembarked the next morning at Boulogne, France. I knew well that I was in France, from the grand reception we received.


August 17–19th
In rest camp outside Boulogne we thought it very tame for Active Service. We were anxious to test our skills and engage the Germans.

Our wait wasn't long. We marched to the train station where we boarded for an unknown destination.