Canada in World War I: Part 1 - Rowdy and Undisciplined

If there's a war you don't want to be in, it's probably World War I. Sure, its thrilling sequel gets more attention due to the fact it had more casualties, is more recent (which typically means more relevant), and has a much better good vs. evil story. (Say what you want about the Nazis, but from a purely historical interest standpoint they made the best villains; a strong, frightening accent and language, uniforms made by Hugo Boss with the most evil of colour schemes, and a plan for world domination.) But for sheer horrible wartime conditions, there is nothing I've come across - and correct me if I'm wrong here - that sounds like a worse wartime situation to be in as a soldier than being sent to participate in trench warfare. Through that, with the backwards fighting style of sprinting into machine gun fire, the multitude of diseases and otherwise caused by the trenches, and the near constant concussive blasts of high powered explosives, Canada went from being a colony to a country with spilled blood, grit and courage.

So, how did we get there? 

When the war began we were very much a British colony. With our large-and-in-charge father Britain and sassy mother France going to fight it out with Germany and Co. over in Europe, it was our duty to step in and provide whatever support we could. However, since we were still a self-governing body, it was up to us to decide just how many men we were going to send their way. We certainly wished to help Britain, but at the same time didn't want to cripple our fledgling population and economy - plus, who knew how many would show up to answer the call? Canada, after all, had a population that was 65% rural and many thought that the war had more of a "big city" feel to it, and continuing the work on the farm was of greater importance. Also, who would think of World War I and think "yeah, I'm in"? Well, as it turns out, a heck of a lot.

A picture of Valcartier, the largest military base in Canada
at the time. It's probably bigger than it looks here. This angle
puts it slightly above "hobo shanty town."

Canadians were exceptionally excited, eager to go to war for whatever reasons they may have had. Some wished for adventure, others felt a strong sense of duty, some needed the guaranteed albeit small stream of income, and others were actually British and had just recently settled in Canada. The prevailing thought was that they wouldn't be there for very long; it would be a quick trip, they'd kick some German keister, be lavished with praise and head on back. So many men felt this way and turned up at the recruitment armories that they were turning men down left right and centre. They would have to meet the standards for a good soldier, and if they didn't, they'd get the boot. You would need to have good lungs, good teeth (I mean, why not?), high arches (no flat footed weirdos mutants in our army), be between the ages of 18-45, and have a minimum height of 5'3". Pass those tests and you've got a shot. Unfortunately for the recruitment centres, electronic recordings wasn't yet a thing, and that many people attempting to sign up flooded their system. That meant that a number of people would get rejected, take a look at the proper requirements, return to the back of the line and lie their way through the next time; they could claim previous military status, or older men could dye their hair (but they had to make sure they remembered to dye your chest hair too - really - it was a thing).

As for the types of men that were chosen, Sam Hughes, the Minister of Militia and Defense, decided to shirk recruitment recommendations and build the military with a mostly civilian force. Sending the 30,617 chosen to a newly created military base called Valcartier, it was about as ragtag as a group could be; they showed up in suits, bowler hats, uniforms of their local militia, and many of them had to begin training in such, as uniforms were not as of yet distributed. It didn't help that Hughes himself was a bit on the crazy side, frequently interrupting training, demoting people at random, and shrugging off the need to have experienced soldiers take the lead on instruction to create a cohesive force. By military standards Valcartier was a mess; the men were insubordinate, more brawlers than soldiers, and typical military stuff (saluting, spotless boots, doing pushups while being called a "maggot" and so forth) was mostly dismissed as nonsense. Practical jokes were common and typically if there was a major problem it would be settled by a fistfight.

The brave men leaving Toronto for battle in Western Europe.
I mean, I know Toronto is expensive, but this?! Hiyo!!!!

Canadian military equipment proved to be little better. The famous Ross Rifle, proudly Canadian made, would frequently jam on rapid fire exercises. Also, the bayonet would have a nasty habit of simply falling off. The uniforms themselves, with much of the gear distributed in Europe once they got there, was not created all that well either. An ammo pouch on the front made it difficult to crawl and the goatskin they were given for warmth frequently still had the blood or flesh of the animal on it. 

Nevertheless, in spite of everything, the Canadian forces set sail with the men, artillery, and seven thousand horses, carried across the waters by ocean liner. Arriving at Salisbury Plain, a military camp quite near to Stonehenge, they were given a week before more training would continue. During this time they drank: a private described the unruly force as thinking "of nothing but drinking and getting into all the trouble they can." Some of that trouble came in the form of loose women; 1,249 (keep in mind only 30,617 came over) picked up a venereal disease during that time. Eventually they allowed booze in the camp, mostly to slow the tide of rampaging Canadians causing a ruckus across Britain.

One of the Canadian battalions. Or perhaps a division.
No, a unit! That's not right... Anyways, here's a group of
Canadian soldiers.

As for the conditions in the camp, well... the training was effective but the weather was brutal. Pounding sheets of rain hammered the men day after day, making training a muddy, sick, unpleasant experience. However, the awful conditions helped to toughen them up, and the difficulties served as a bonding time for the inexperienced force. It's beautifully summed up by this lieutenant and former war correspondent:

"On Salisbury Plain, chastened by suffering, saddened by yearnings for home, wounded to the quick by misunderstandings with our English instructors, torture by the vilest winter climate on earth, often prostrated by sickness of the body, or by deeper sickness of the spirit, out of all of this man-breaking and heart-breaking we were being hammered and wrought into an army unit. Out of hell fire, came an Iron Division for service in an Iron War."

It wasn't long before Canadians got their first test in battle. After the training was complete, they were sent to the western front to support British soldiers in trying to break the unbreakable; trench warfare had begun, and it was up to the Triple Entente's forces (the Russians, British and French) to break the line. Defenses wouldn't hold; the Germans had broken into France and had already stormed through Belgium, meaning a defensive position would be in Germany's favour. 

After shadowing experienced British soldiers for some time, they got their first real taste. The initial deaths, through exploding artillery fire or snipers, shook the men to the core. They weren't mentally prepared, but to be fair, how could one be? Their first major battle to test their nerve came at Neuve Chappelle on March 10th, 1915. Basically, the Canadians were used as a diversion force to ensure the Germans couldn't mass a large number where the British, with their Indian allies, hoped to attack. They lost one hundred men, but did their duty. 

In spite of the inferior rifles, sloppy training, frequent insubordination and liquor issues, the Canadian army would soon prove to be one heck of a formidable fighting force. Suffice to say, I bet no one saw that coming.