Remembering The Battle Of The Somme

In addition to being Canada Day, July 1st is also the anniversary of the first day of the bloody Battle of the Somme, in World War I.

I've been watching a dvd collection of the 2003 documentary series, World War In Color, so the infamous story is on my mind.

This impressive documentary meticulously colorizes hours of black and white film footage taken during the grinding conflict that so shaped the start of our modern age. The colorized footage tends not to have the "muddy" look that used to belabor this technology; it makes you see the old films from an old world with fresh eyes, and renewed interest. For all its gruesomeness it remains a riveting show: chapter by chapter the documentary chronicles various aspects of the war, with precious interviews of surviving veterans intercut along the way, to humanize history.

That men could emerge from the carnage of The Great War, and the suicidal Battle of the Somme in particular, to go on to start families, study for a career, and choose to remain decent people, is an overwhelming fact to contemplate. I stare at those soft-spoken veterans in awe. Let those who whine and complain about their lot in life today, reflect on what people in the not-so-distant past lived through, and despite their experiences (maybe because of those experiences..?) they still felt compelled to do the Right Thing... they had the courage to try to live Good lives. Given the plain butchery of the Somme, I wonder which act can be proven the more valorous...

Canada, as well as Europe, has reason to remember the horror of that first day of the Battle of the Somme, especially those not yet part of Canada at the time, the troops from Newfoundland:

The Battle of the Somme began early on the morning of July 1, 1916, near the towns of Beaumont and Hamel. Thousands of soldiers from Britain and Newfoundland climbed out of their trenches to walk through a hail of machine gun fire, toward the German line.

In less than half an hour, the fighting was over.

57,470 British soldiers were killed or wounded on what remains the bloodiest day in the history of the British Army. Newfoundlanders suffered especially heavy losses on that day: of the 801 who had gone into battle, only 68 were able to respond at roll call the following morning.

There's more than one Europe, no matter what our maps might tell us. There's the Europe of the unaccountable EU elites, sitting at their remote tables making their daft calculations like modern-day General Haigs and Joffres, discovering only too late that their golden dreams are built of mud and broken bones.

Then there's the Europe that gathers on anniversaries like tomorrow, to honor the memory of the good that died in places like the Somme, so that, through memory, that good may live on:

SCOTTISH war heroes who fought and died at the Somme... will be honoured at a ceremony in France tomorrow.
... The Royal Scots Guards lost 20,000 men with a further 40,000 wounded while attacking heavily fortified German trenches close to the village of Contalmaison.
...
Despite huge losses, the 16th Battalion – known as [Sir George] McRae's Own – was credited with achieving the deepest penetration of the enemy line anywhere on the battlefront. [Communities Minister Stewart] Maxwell will lay a wreath on behalf of the Scottish nation at the Contalmaison Cairn, the largest memorial of its kind to be built on the Western Front since the 1920s.

Mr Maxwell said: "Their sacrifice in defence of their nation has helped preserve Scotland's way of life and our democracy.

"It is very important that their courage, valour and sacrifice are recognised and never forgotten."

There was so much waste, so much senseless death throughout that awful nightmare that is The Great War, it is terribly easy to conclude that it was all for nothing. After all, there was a Second World War that followed soon enough the "war to end all wars". Today, with barely a handful of WWI veterans left alive, the war seems as remote to us as the Napoleonic campaigns would have been to these veterans when they enlisted. That remoteness makes it tempting to just sweep the whole messy memory under the rug... or into its grave.

Towards the end of one of the episodes of the forementioned colorized documentary series, a veteran looks away from the camera as he admits that he feels his generation's sacrifices have been "condemned to be forgotten", and that when this happens their sacrifices will have truly been for nothing. The expression on his face, of looking at nothing... yet seeing everything... is a haunting one.

That elderly gentleman lived through the shadow of the evil brought upon him, and yet can still look back on much to be grateful for. As we should look back, and be grateful for the good examples that have come before us; especially the remarkable generation that outran the four horsemen when they went "over the top". These gentlemen returned still feeling the human duty to renew their humanity, and choose to be gentle men.

Canadian Glory

When I was 7 years old, my friend's grandfather visited him for a summer. The memories fade but I still remember the first time my buddy told me of his grandfather's upcoming visit, and the hushed pride recounting how his grandfather was a veteran of World War I. That status meant a lot to us, for even at that age we were both constantly devouring books on history, our playtime spent re-enacting famous battles in backyards and sandboxes: we felt ourselves connected to our nation's past, however shadowy our understanding of it may have been. My friend excitedly filled me in with precious anecdotes his grandfather had previously shared with his family, ranging from gas attacks to crawling under barbed wire fences across no-man's-land to other colorful adventures that made 7-year old imaginations soar.

Thinking back across thirty years to this older gentleman, this first Great War veteran I ever met, I remember that he truly was a gentle man. I remember a deferring humility, a gentleness, a patience for children's incessant (and no doubt impertinent) questions. I remember a quick smile when he would walk past us with our toy soldiers spread out on my friend's living room carpet; God only knows what thoughts went through his mind as he watched us 7-year old generals manipulate our plastic troops across the "battlefield", occasionally singing out in theatrical cries of pain as we would mimic an artillery shell's effects on a column of marching infantry.

But most of all, even after all this time, I remember my friend's delight in his grandfather's very existence, so that today I wonder about the man he grew up to become as a result of his being blessed with his grandfather's presence in his life, as an example of tenderness and strength, to look up to.
I was reminded of all this as I read a letter published this weekend in the National Post, an old letter from a Canadian soldier, to the wife back home he was missing so dearly.
The following letter was written by John Walter Ellis to his wife in Tillsonburg, Ontario, on Saturday April 14, 1917, shortly after his participation in the battle of Vimy Ridge, 90 years ago this week:

My Own Darling Kitty,
Hear I am sitting in my dug out back of the line and have found a minute to write you a wee line, as I know how you'll be worrying & wondering how I'm keeping.
Well darling no doubt the papers will be full of the great Canadian advance & I must say I'm truly thankful & the Almighty has spared me this far & I only trust He will bring me safely through & back to my loved ones.
Our Company were lucky & we were a "carrying party", we had to bring up ammunition & supplies for the attacking party. We were sent up to hold the front line for a while after the advance was over, although since Fritz has retired further back. We had a few boys killed & wounded Poor George Mowforth was killed & a couple more Tillsonburg boys, Stuart & Bolgarters & Hearsy was wounded. I had several narrow escapes but thank God
I'm yet safe & well. I do hope & pray it will soon be all over as I don't want to see anything like it again. Things certainly look better every day & I hope they'll continue.
Now darling I should not be telling you all this as you'll only worry all the more, but as long as I'm well there's no need to. …
… Hows my little darling babe getting along. How her Daddy is longing for the day when he can take both her & her dear mother in his arms again. I live in that hope & pray it may be soon. Well love I haven't much more to say now. I'll write again soon. Give my best love to Mother, Dad & Maggie and little Sonny. Give my darling a big hug & a kiss & accept tons of love & kisses to your dear, dear self!
Ever your own darling devoted hubby
Jack

A month later, on May 14, 1917, another letter was sent to John Walter Ellis' wife, this time not from the soldier, but from a colleague:

5928 Pt. Ellis
2nd Canadians
It is with much sorrow I am writing to you to tell you of the death of your husband he was admitted her & 30 @ C/[?] very severely wounded in his chest - on 3 5-17 he died
6 45 pm 13 5-17 he at first did very well & we had great hopes of his recovery, he got suddenly very much worse, became unconscious & died shortly after. He was always talking about your & his little one & hoping to get home to you.
We all feel so sorry for you hour husband was a great favourite with the interns & orderlies He will be buried at Aubigny & will lie with many other brave men who like him have give all for others.
His grave will be marked by a cross with his name. Please accept my very deep sympathy in
you great trouble
With much sympathy yours truly
Lt. [?]/C JR Harwill

John Walter Ellis was one Canadian name out of many who too often remain nameless, their sacrifices taken too much for granted, unappreciated by current generations reclining in the shallow belief that all our national glory has been eternal, as abiding as the earth under our feet, and as equally beyond cause-and-effect... for what did we do, what could we do, to build the snow-capped mountains in whose shadows we live?

Echoing a sentiment expressed in one of Truepeers' posts from last week: so much of our learning is, in effect, remembering, piercing the shadows to discover the debt which we should live to repay, choosing acts that validate the investment that has been made in us. The day we forget the enormous accumulation of sacrifices made in our name, the long list of lives lost for the sake of lives yet unborn, on that day such a disconnect to our past would bring an amnesia that will surely fill us with despair rather than any relief such "freedom" may be presumed to offer.

Our past fills our lives with purpose, with duty; and it is this burden that compels us to rise up to become worthy of its weight. The young daughter in this letter, whose father did not return from France, grew up without his counsel; her life became one of learning through her mother's memories, what kind of gracious and loving man her father was capable of being. Were she to turn her back on that past, however painful it may be, she would lose much of herself and the reason she was brought upon the Earth: to spread life, and hope, and love.
In the shadow of the anniversary of the battle for the heights of Vimy Ridge, we remember the shadow cast upon us by this loving father's sacrifice. We humble ourselves to remember the towering sacrifices of all the fathers and grandfathers whose actions granted us, through an undeniable cause-and-effect, the blessing to possess memories in the first place. We strain our memories to recall those who returned and lived to bring love and new life into the world. Through such memories we may more clearly imagine the debt we owe to those who, like John Walter Ellis, brought glory to our nation through the example of their unfinished lives.

It is by affirming that memory, and acting upon it, that we can begin to prove ourselves worthy of their glory.
May God Bless them all, and may we continue to keep Canada Glorious and Free.

Remembering the Canadian victory at Vimy

Easter Weekend marks a special moment in Canadian history, as we look back and remember our triumph as a nation during the World War I battle of Vimy Ridge. Ingenuity, forebearance, the urge to surpass those that have come before us... these Canadian traits were called upon to work in unity over a fateful week, as well as our four Canadian Corps divisions, fighting together for the first time. The battle that followed wasn't just a victory for the allies, it was also a victory for Canada:

The German army fortified it with tunnels, three rows of trenches behind barbed wire, massive amounts of artillery, and numerous machine gun nests. The French and British had suffered thousands of casualties in previous attempts to take it; the French alone lost 150,000 men in 1915.

The Allied commanders decided to launch another assault in 1917. The duty was given to the still relatively fresh, but previously successful, Canadians. For the first time, all four divisions of the Canadian Corps were brought together. ...

The Canadian Corps' commanders were determined to learn from the mistakes of the French and British and spent months planning their attack. They built a replica
of the ridge behind their lines, and trained using platoon-level tactics, including issuing detailed maps to ordinary soldiers rather than officers or NCOs alone. Each platoon was to be given a complete picture of the battle plan and given a specific task, rather than vague instructions from an absent general. ... They also employed older techniques such as the detonation of large mines under the German trenches, as well as the digging of long "subways" (tunnels), the ends of which were detonated at zero hour, giving waiting platoons closer access to the German line.

On April 2, 1917, the Canadian Corps initiated the largest artillery barrage in history up to that point. They shelled the German trenches for a week, using over one million shells. The German artillery pieces were hidden behind the ridge, but by observing the sound and light from their firing, the Canadians were able to locate and destroy about 83% of the German guns. ... The German troops called this period the "Week of Suffering". The attack was so loud, the sound of guns could be heard plainly in southern England, some one hundred miles from the front.

At dawn on Easter Monday, April 9, the 27,000-man Canadian Corps attacked. ... Nearly 100,000 men in total were to take and hold the ridge.
The first wave advanced behind a creeping barrage, known specifically for the battle as the Vimy Glide. This tactic had been used earlier by the British at the Battle of the Somme, but there it had outpaced the soldiers. The Canadians perfected the technique. The troops walked across no man's land, just behind a continuous line of shells (an improvement over previous battles, in which both sides had often shelled their own troops). …

The Canadians also used a new technique, indirect fire with machine guns, which pinned German troops down in their trenches and provide cover for their own troops. After less than two hours, three of the four Canadian divisions had taken their objectives; the 4th Division, however, was held up by machine gun nests on the highest point of the ridge, known as Hill 145. The 87th Battalion suffered 50% casualties. The 85th Nova Scotia Highlanders, who had been intended to function in a supply and construction role, were sent in as reinforcements and the hill was captured by the end of the day.

It is said that upon learning of the victory, a French soldier exclaimed, "C'est impossible!" ("It's impossible!"), and upon learning it was the Canadians who had won it, replied "Ah! les Canadiens! C'est possible!" ("Ah! The Canadians! It is possible!").

This is the Canada whose accomplishments we must prove ourselves worthy of inheriting. We are not born great because of our great predecessors, it is a greatness to be renewed each generation. As our predecessors did on the eve of their battle, we can look to those that came before us and, animated as we are by our civilization's belief in progress, we can resolve to improve upon their legacy, by adding to it. We do this not to shame our ancestors, but to honor them; it is our Canadian tradition to do so, much as a parent expects his child to surpass him, as a sign of the parent's success, as well as the child's. That's what it means to be Canadian: out of gratitude for our European heritage, we commit to prove worthy of it, and offer ourselves as its steward. To honor our Canadian past, we aspire to add to their achievements.
But first, comes remembering them.