Canada in World War I: Part 3 - Inexperience Shows

After the success (albeit a distinctly bloody success) at Ypres the Canadian army fell into hard times. Well, they were always in hard times... it's trench warfare after all, but these hard times were in the sense that not only were they throwing men into the meat grinder that is taking small sections of territory by charging through barbed wire and machine gun fire, but they also stopped winning for a time. Being forced to push forward in spite of incredible odds against them (and oftentimes a distinct lack of planning) sounds admirable, but this isn't the movies - you might make one shock victory work on occasion, but nine times out of ten if you're not planning the battle well enough your soldiers will lose. The following battles showed the weakness in the Canadian forces; limited communication between headquarters and the troops, and an artillery that often didn't hit the mark. These problems would be worked out eventually, but after Festubert, St. Eloi and Mount Sorrel - three places where Canadian loss of life did not come hand in hand with victory as it had at Ypres.

Battle of Festubert: 
The Canadian soldiers were still reeling from the Second Battle of Ypres when they were forced to march to Festubert in May, 1915. South of the Ypres salient, the walk there forced many soldiers to collapse under the weight of exhaustion due in part to the distance but also because of the toll the previous battle had taken on them. Unfortunately, it was far from a welcoming party that would be waiting for them once they arrived; what would follow was a bloodbath of limited success and needless loss of life due to poor planning from up high.

In desperate need of soldiers the
Canadian army began a beaver recruitment
campaign. While ferocious and distinctly
Canadian, a lack of opposable thumbs made
weapon firing a difficult ordeal.

Festubert was not a glorious battle. Many of the soldiers felt the fighting was simply for fighting's sake, being forced to take points on a map that hardly matched up to how it looked in reality due to so much of the area being bombed into oblivion. The attacks they threw at the targets came at poor times, often during daylight hours that would often spell certain death. Although the Canadians made the furthest forward into the enemy lines (pushing into a small area of trees and claiming it, thereby renaming it "Canadian Orchard") it was still what could only be described as minimal.

The Brigadier Arthur Currie was disappointed in the organization and purpose behind the attacks. They were told to attack a point called K5, a heavily defended point in the German defence that was almost indistinguishable on the map as they only really knew it was there from crawling through mud and barbed wire to see the place. Why they had to attack that felt baffling to the men leading those in the front lines, but, sadly, orders were orders; if you were told to attack, you did so. Richard Turner, the Brigadier that at Ypres had fallen back to a trench and thus left the flanks open in an attempt to save his men was also upset at the mismanagement of the men at headquarters.

Turner was a complex figure; on one hand, he showed himself to be lacking in leadership, often getting many men killed under his watch. When looking back on his decision making it's often quite poor, sometimes egregiously so. However, you cannot question his devotion to his troops and to the cause; often his mistakes were due to honest attempts to save as many as he could, and he got the position in the first place due to his courage and valour in the Boer War. From what I can tell, Turner was a great soldier - brave and honest, always willing to stand up for his men - but perhaps not the greatest commander.

Anyways.

The plan to take K5 fell on the Canadian troops again. A high level of artillery bombardment was ordered to take place, hopefully dismantling the German defences to soften them up for a ground assault. However, they could see quite clearly the bombardment failed to hit where they hoped it would, meaning machine gun nests and barbed wire was still all around the battlefield. Currie attempted to delay the assault due to the near impossible attacking conditions, but found no such help from on high. The assault went through, but it was hopeless; the only way through to K5 was through a thin communication trench, and when the Germans figured out the Canadians were pouring through that one space they placed the greatest focus on that point, slaughtering the Canadians as they went through the same area on repeat. The assault completely failed, and while a subsequent assault pushed them forward at least slightly, it was too late; the battle was a loss, and many Canadian lives were thrown away pointlessly.

Battle of St. Eloi:
It was almost a year since the last major operation for the Canadian troops. In April 1916 (1916 would prove to be a truly awful year, just for humanity as a whole) the Canadians would go to fight five kilometres south of Ypres. The Germans held a high ground position named The Mound, ideal for artillery barrages on the Canadian and British troops. The goal was to take The Mound, allowing for a means to spread out from that point as the high ground was of critical importance. However, it's quite clear where the point of assault would commence, and therefore the Germans would be ready and waiting for them.

Just men! Stay at home, dames!
The only skirts we need are the
Scottish Highlander divisions!

Attacking by walking up The Mound would be darn near to suicide (although that's never stopped them before!). The solution to this was the idea, if you can't attack above ground, attack below it. British soldiers and engineers tunneled underneath the hill and blew the whole thing to smithereens. As a side note: consider how terrifying war must be, being attacked from what's in front of you in the enemy soldiers and what's above you in the artillery shellfire, but the whole time you're thinking "well, at least the ground isn't going to kill me!" Well... that didn't pan out. The explosions they set off were massive, causing the creation of seven colossal craters where there once were soldiers and trenches. The largest was a staggering 55 meters wide and 20 meters deep (and for American readers.. you're probably not reading Canadian war history anyway). The explosions opened up a new battlefield, and unsure of how to respond, both sides threw men into the holes, desperately trying to defend them as they considered them to be new trench territory - very loosely defining the word "trench".

Richard Turner attempted to convince the command that taking the craters was useless, but his words fell on deaf ears. Canadian and British troops stormed in, battling over the newly exploded areas. The new terrain posed a number of significant difficulties; with the lay of the land entirely changed, no clear battle lines could be drawn. Communication suffered as it was a mess trying to get messages between the front lines in the craters and the base where the artillery would be firing. Worse yet, the Germans had the clear advantage of having the high ground to better see where their soldiers and the enemy were situated. To further confuse the Canadians, the holes were consistently changed sizes by being exploded even further by shellfire. Suddenly there were more than just the seven originals - and who knows who held what?

Soon the bottom of the craters, early in the battle mostly held by Canadian and British forces, were slowly taken over. The men would die and roll to the bottom, causing for massive pile-ups of corpses. Occasionally a shell would hit the bottom of those craters, creating a grotesque explosion of corpses, raining flesh and blood on the soldiers still alive to defend them. Even for war... man.

The situation never improved. Most battles were won or lost by artillery and with bad weather not allowing any sight of the battlefield shells frequently fell well wide of the craters or, worse yet, fell on friendly Canadian forces believing they were held by Germans. The later happened disturbingly frequently as they just couldn't figure out who was holding what. Most of the separated groups were torn to shreds as they could never be reinforced as the main army didn't even know they were still out there and alive. A lack of reconnaissance made the battle impossible, and the result was a rout. The Canadians fell back with their heads low and their reputation sorely wounded - but don't blame the soldiers. The operations were rarely lost by the soldiers themselves, but rather a lack of cohesion between artillery and the front line and damaged communication lines resulting in horrible decisions by the HQ.

As a result, someone had to take a fall. At first it appeared Richard Turner would take the fall but due to a number of backroom political dealings (in part due to his lack of support for the Canadian Ross Rifle as it was replaced by the British Lee-Enfield) General Edwin Alderson got the boot. To be fair, he was dealt a horrible hand. As the rope in a tug of war between British command and Canadian interests he simply couldn't make both sides happy, ultimately leading to his being kicked to the curb. His replacement, however, proved to be a phenomenal choice - if not immediately. Julian Byng, a well respected Brit with a storied military history, took the reins and began to slowly add discipline to the rowdy colonials that were the Canadian forces.

Mount Sorrel: 
So we're back to the Ypres salient. Considering the horrors of the previous expedition there you could only imagine how terrible the troops must have felt about the return. Their role this time was to defend a position of high ground that was critical to the success in the area. The Germans would be attacking it soon in an attempt to draw forces away from the Somme, a massive assault that will cause the deaths of countless soldiers on both side for little territory (more about that terrible battle of mud, rain and blood coming up next blog - nothing but fun on the Idiot Historian). To open up the assault, the Germans poured countless shells into the Canadian trenches, totalling the largest bombardment to date. Some of the most forward battalions suffered a ninety percent casualty rate by the time the Germans followed in and cleared them out.

"Get into Khaki NOW!" later became an Old Navy
slogan.

The only bright spot on the butchery was from one of the most respected, veteran forces in the Canadian military holding a position against all odds and holding on. That particular battalion was the Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry - perhaps the least intimidating name for a tough-as-nails force of hardened soldiers ever. (Perhaps My Little Pony will name a red and white horse named in their honour!) With few men still alive and running out of ammunition, it was an incredible feat of selfless bravery to fight on in their weakened and compromised state - a German officer later spoke of them, saying "the resistance of the officer and some men who remained to the last in a portion of an almost obliterated trench was magnificent." If there's one thing about the World Wars that gets my patriotic blood flowing (I've discovered my blood cells are red and white, I kid you not) it's when the enemy forces speak highly of the bravery of the Canadian troops.

Regardless of the PPCLI's heroic last stand, it was hard to ignore the fact that the Canadians had lost in several battles lately. They had to counter attack, mostly due to pride. However, pride can be a dangerous force (see Napoleon, Hitler, America in 1812, and sports movies featuring highly skilled teams against underdogs) and the attack commenced without artillery properly ready to fire, as well as a lack of proper scouting. It was essentially a suicide mission; they were shelled and gassed, thrown into chaos and cut to ribbons. The disorganized counter fell to pieces.

Days later a second counter attack (at that point does it qualify as an attack?) came through again, but this time with organization. Planes could see the lines and a heavily bombardment preceded the assault. An artillery barrage with infantry support proved much more effective when working in conjunction, with 218 highly powered artillery weapons fighting against them (not all Canadian). The four days of shelling gave Currie the opportunity to attack an exhausted force under the cover of darkness and the German line fell under the weight of a Canadian led bayonet charge.

Mount Sorrel resulted in no significant changes in territory but 8,700 Canadian casualties. For World War I, that seems to be the norm.

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. 

The Atomic Bomb: Part 3 - Nuclear Stockpiling

A picture the Tsar bomb from (literally) 100 miles away.
Hippies everywhere flocked to the explosion upon seeing
the 'shroom, but were disappointed to discover
it was only a cloud. 

We left off with Russia having the bomb, America having the bomb, and both of them staring at each other flexing like two of the toughest guys at the bar who have had a bit too much to drink, believing that they are indeed the strongest. Now, don't get me wrong, nukes are strong - but are they strong enough? The scientists apparently looked at the bomb and thought, yeah, it can blow up a city, but can't it get any bigger? Well, the answer is yes - it certainly can. You just need to use the power of the sun, but not in some sissy "solar power saving the world" type way. We want the "solar power annihilating the crap out of everything" way! Now, it's not putting a solar panel on a bomb, it's fusing hydrogen atoms in a similar manner to how the sun produces energy. Or exactly the same manner on a smaller scale - I don't know. Either way, the result is an explosion that dwarfs the previous ones.

The hydrogen bomb was developed just a few years after Hiroshima and Nagasaki, but it wasn't the end of ever increasing bomb sizes. Bombs kept getting larger until the Russians developed the Tsar Bomb, a hydrogen bomb that was (and still is) the most powerful nuclear bomb ever created. The Tsar was dropped in 1961 as one of many nuclear tests. The blast was fifty megatons, or fifty million tons of T.N.T., well over a thousand times more powerful than the ones dropped on the Japanese. 

Well, it's a graph. It explains itself. I don't need a caption
for it, but I would feel so empty without one.

Bomb production skyrocketed as well. The idea was mutual for each superpower; if their enemy had a lot of nukes then they could destroy their country, so they had to ensure that they in turn held enough nukes to destroy them back, thus preventing them from firing in the first place. So on they built, ensuring that even if the Russians wanted to bomb Buford, Wyoming (wikipedia tells me it's the smallest town in America, with a population of one, somehow) they could do it, and if America wanted to bomb the smallest Russian town right back they certainly could as well. It was an arms race, which works perfectly with my metaphor of the two tough guys in the bar, but I'll pass on adding another pun to this blog series.

So just how many bombs did they build? In 1947 the U.S. had 13. 1953 saw that number up to 1,100. Late '60s, 31,000. Between the two of them there were 60,000 nuclear weapons with 36 different types hanging around in the world. 

The nukes weren't just sitting there, though; plenty of them were being used for testing, just not on people. A few hundred were tested but the environmental effects were worrisome, causing the signing of a treaty in 1963 to no longer test the bombs in the atmosphere, space, on the ground or underwater. Great! That just meant that they would test them underground, where another eight hundred or so were tested until they stopped in 1992. Take that, mother Earth!

A crater left by a nuclear test, awaiting the winter to be
once more used as a hill for tobogganing.

While I won't delve deeply into the happenings of the Cold War, both sides eventually pulled out and didn't bomb each other to smithereens, leaving us in some post-apocalyptic video game world. But what would have happened had the bomb not been there in the first place? Would the Soviet Union and the United States have fought with troops instead? It could very well have caused another colossal war. Since, the number of nuclear bombs has decreased greatly, but the number of countries that own them hasn't. The U.S. and Russia obviously still have them, but add to that list India, Israel, China, France, Pakistan and North Korea, according to the Huffington Post. Now, those countries have a very, very small piece of the pie, but Japan would be the first to remind you of what just two nuclear bombs, much smaller than what we have now, can do. 

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The information for this blog was taken from the documentary The Bomb, a PBS program.