Part II Battle
Chapter six
“For it’s Tommy this an’ Tommy that an’ ‘chuck him out, the brute!’
But it’s ‘Saviour of ‘is country’ when the guns begin to shoot.”
Rudyard Kipling. (1865-1936) “Tommy”
It is difficult for the modern reader to appreciate the climate of the times in the early 20th century. With the benefit of hindsight, we can appreciate the effects of two devastating world wars, the debilitating tension of a forty-three year Cold War between two competing political ideologies, and the subsequent increase in political and social disorder that marked the Post-Cold-War period. These cataclysmic events have left many of us with a cynical scepticism of jingoistic nationalism and patriotic calls to arms. But in 1914 these events were yet to come and the 19th century with its Eurocentric nationalism and the heady days of the Pax Britannica were familiar to all in the British colonies and dominions. European wars were considered noble contests between competing armies and ordinary people were only marginally involved unless they had the misfortune to live near the battlefield.
But even in 1914, as war clouds gathered, there was some recognition that this contest might be different. For one thing, the days of foreign mercenaries were long gone. The Boer War was largely won by indigenous volunteers from England and the colonies. And Canada had a tradition of locally raised militias going back to the War of 1812, the Riel Rebellion and the Boer War. There was a strong identity with the ‘Mother Country” and a tradition of citizen involvement in the Empire’s wars. No political party would have the temerity to even suggest that strong support of this looming conflict was not the right thing to do. Anything less than full support for the war effort was disloyal, even seditious. The prevailing view was still of a sports contest in which there were rules of war with avid fans gathered on the sidelines to cheer on their heroes and respective teams. There was somehow a feeling that after the conflict, both sides could go out together to have a drink and talk about old times.1
As Bill Deadman returned from his training at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore to Hamilton, he became aware of the very different attitudes in Hamilton as compared to Baltimore. In Baltimore, there was a strong pro-German sentiment but also an overall air of detachment, much as one would view a sporting contest in which one was not personally involved. However in Hamilton, everyone seemed to be involved and it seemed that all the military age men were eager to join up. Almost the entire 1914 and 1915 graduating classes in the Faculty of Medicine at the University of Toronto had applied to join the Canadian Army Medical Corps. Many could not be accepted because all positions for physicians were taken so many doctors were joining as privates or looking for other units to join. By contrast, at the time of the Second World War there was still strong patriotism but nothing like the same enthusiasm. In 1940 and ’41 there was a severe shortage of medical personnel in the early years of the war and Bill wrote papers and gave several addresses urging young doctors to join up.i
About the Great War he writes: ii
“Hamilton was astir with war fervour. The militia units were actively recruiting. There was talk of the organization of a Field Ambulance, to be recruited in Hamilton. My friend, Frank Overholt, had taken a position as assistant to Dr. Farmer of Ancaster, and I saw him at the hospital almost every morning, and we considered ways and means of getting into military service. Finally, the news was out that Lieut. Colonel Farmer had been appointed to organize No. 5 Field Ambulance, Canadian Expeditionary Force, recruiting men and officers from the Hamilton area. We knew there was no chance of an Officers Training Course for perhaps a year, so we approached Colonel Farmer to take us on the strength of his unit. He agreed. He told us that, of course, we would have to enlist as private soldiers, but that he would promote us to the rank of sergeant when we got to training camp. We enlisted forthwith at the end of October 1914. I then informed Dr. Langrill that I had enlisted and that I would shortly be leaving for camp.
“I should have applied to the Board for leave of absence, as Dr. Langrill informed me afterwards. He told me that the Board was annoyed with my action, but since we then thought that the war would be of short duration, perhaps six months or a year, they relented and gave me an indefinite leave of absence. My absence ran to nearly four and a half years. The unit was being recruited mainly in Hamilton, and until recruiting was completed, we did our drills in the evenings at the Armouries, and I carried on in the laboratory during the day. But by the first week in November, officers and men had been assembled, mainly from Hamilton, but also partly form Toronto and Owen Sound, and No. 5 Field Ambulance moved off to its quarters at the Exhibition Grounds in Toronto, there to spend the winter in intensive training.”
This period is well described in Stretcher Bearers at the Double, a book written by Frederick Noyes and several other former members of the 5th Field Ambulance about the history of the unit and their experiences during the war.iii It describes the general confusion and problems of any new unit, the ill-fitting uniforms, the non-commissioned officers from “over ’ome” who barked unfamiliar orders in heavy English or Scottish accents. The hyperbolic griping found in the military is well described:
“Of course, the bulk of the equipment had been produced under time pressure and, in consequence, had suffered considerably in quality and design. The red army-boot was a cross between a moccasin and a sponge. It had blotting –paper soles and insoles of spikes, whose business ends pointed invitingly upward – earning for the Minister of Militia the sobriquet “General Sham Shoes.” (This was a slighting reference to General Sam Hughes, who seemed to be in charge of military procurement, along with everything else.) iv
A note in Bill’s diary from 1915 reflects the problem with shoes: v
Monday, Jan 4: “Was excused from the church parade because I had no shoes. My second pair are almost worn out. Wrote some letters and went to dinner at 1 o’clock. In the afternoon went round the camp with Dr. Overholt’s friends. Stayed in in the evening and wrote some letters. Bed at 10.30.”
They went to the Toronto Exhibition Grounds for initial training and were housed in the cow-sheds. There are numerous references to Stable 36.
“Those early days in the old frame cowsheds shall always linger in our memories. The barrel stoves, straw palliasses, wooden-slatted double-tiered bunks, tin wash basins and crude tub showers all helped to convince us that we were ‘in the army now.’” vi
There are a few references to Staff-Sergeant Deadman, the first of them on page 7:
It is impossible, too, to forget that bitterly cold winter’s night when the whole unit was taken violently ill with stomach cramps and acute dysentery, and dozens of our men collapsed in their bunks or outside in the raging blizzard. For many hours all the available doctors in or near the camp worked frantically over the poisoned men, and it was only because of this prompt attention the attacks didn’t prove fatal. Staff-Sergeants Overend and Deadman, Sergeant Overholt and several other experienced “rankers” also rendered valuable assistance.”vii
Bill goes on to describe the unit and his first experiences with it:viii
Lieut. Colonel G. D. Farmer2 was Commanding Officer; Major D. P. Kappele3 was second in command. Other Hamilton Officers were Major Herbert Jones, Captain Silcox, and the quartermaster, Captain Fred Clarke. Frank Overholt and I were promoted to the rank of sergeant shortly after we were settled in Toronto, and two other medical graduates who joined us in Toronto were also made sergeants. Other Hamilton sergeants were John Williams, Frank Alden, Jock Gardner and Charlie Camps. We sergeants were housed in one to the residences of horses during exhibition times, Stable 36. It isn’t there anymore. We settled into camp with a large number of other units, which included the 19th and 29th Battalions, largely recruited from Hamilton’s two regiments, the 13th Royal Regiment, or Royal Hamilton Light Infantry, and the 91st Highlanders, now the Argyle and Sutherland Highlanders.
Bill started a diary in January 1915. Some of the entries reflect the general boredom of routines in camp.ix It seems that at this stage in the war, there was a somewhat casual attitude towards discipline, attendance and leave. There were suggestions in other places that many of the troops regarded all this as a bit of a lark. This is somewhat reminiscent of his description of his first trip to Hamilton to see the rugby-football match in 1910.
Saturday, Jan 2: “Drill in the forenoon. Off in the afternoon. Barracks were closed. It was a rather dull afternoon.
Sunday, Jan 3: “Roll call at 7. Church parade at 9.30. It is very tiresome standing in church. The band plays hymns before service and ragtime after. In the afternoon the barracks were thrown open at 3 o’clock so I went out to Sherbourne St. for tea. Got in about 11 o’clock.
Monday, Jan 4: “Roll call. Many men not back yet. Drills and exercises as usual. Nothing startling happened.
Monday, Jan 11: “Drill as usual. At 10.30 we went on a route march up Dufferin to Queen St. along Queen St. to Dundas, up to corner of Dovercourt & College where we stopped and visited the Y.M.C.A. returned via Dufferin St. In the afternoon we were paid at 3 o’clock. Everyone seemed more or less pleased at this function. Visited my Aunt Mary’s in the evening and we went up to see Mrs. Scott.”
It is interesting to contrast the contemporary account in Bill’s diary with the more formal recollections in his autobiographical writings some 40 years later: x
“Frank Overholt and I entered enthusiastically into the business of learning the drill, and before we left for overseas in the spring, we were very efficient in infantry drill. The officers made full use of us as lecturers in first aid to the troops. The other two medical men developed themselves along other lines of field ambulance training.”
In the 1915 diary he records:
Tuesday, Jan 12: “Drill today much as usual. In the morning we had physical drill then a little squad drill and then some company drill down by the lake. During the second period we started to teach the use of the roller bandage. Some of the men did well. In the evening I stayed in and wrote some letters and did a little reading. Helped to make arrangements about a theatre party “A” section intend to hold.”
Recreational duties included theatre parties:
Wednesday, Jan 13: “Routine drill. Spent some time in the afternoon working to arrange for a theatre party for “A” section tomorrow night. The Colonel decided to have us go in sections. We are to go to the R. A.4 and are to have a special car on the street Railway. In the evening S. Sgt. Lelin complained of the unseemly conduct of “A” section while on the supper parade.”
Thursday, Jan 14: “Drill. Spent most of the day working and worrying about a theatre party for “A” section. Went on a route march at 2 3 up to the hill in North Toronto. The party was a fair success. Several of the fellows got drunk, but on the whole everyone enjoyed himself. The officers occupied a box.
By mid-month, discipline was beginning to tighten up:
Friday, Jan 15: “Roll call at 7. Drill at 9 o’clock. Was recalled at about 10 o’clock to give evidence against private Baxter who left the party last night and didn’t get in until 4 am. He was admonished. In the afternoon we arranged to have a mess with the A.S.C. and the Bakers.5 I hope it is a success. I went
through the greater part of the stretcher drill.
Thursday, Jan 21: “Another day of routine. Pretty cold today. Stayed in in the evening. We had one defaulter who was given extra drill. It will probably do the corps good….”
He is still in correspondence with Johns Hopkins. There had been an expectation that the war might be over in six months to a year and he was keen to resume his training as soon as possible:
Tuesday, Jan 19: “Took the morning parade and drill in the absence of Serg’t (Sgt) Williams who was orderly sergeant. Gave a little talk on water supplies in the second period. Stretcher drill in the afternoon. At night went out with “B” section and Overend and I went to Shea’s Hippodrome. A good show. Had a nice time. Lights turned off when we got home. Got a letter from Baltimore today.”
Wednesday, Jan 19: “Got up and had a shave and rolled my coat. We had a route march up to North Toronto and back at 9.30 arriving home at 12.00. Stretcher drill and routine in the afternoon. Stayed in the evening and wrote letters.
Thursday, Jan 21: “……Pay day tomorrow. No letter from Balto.”
The routine in Exhibition Camp continued in much the same manner until mid-April. At that time they received orders to go overseas. Other units were also going and this gave a much broader perspective to the whole war effort. It is noted that the 1915 medical graduates from the University of Toronto who had joined up were going overseas as privates. This underscores the tremendous contrast in attitudes about war and its consequences a century ago and today.
On the 14th of April the diary resumes giving a contemporary account of the trip overseas:
Wednesday, Apr 14: “Rumours that we are to leave tomorrow. They loaded some of the stuff on a box car this afternoon as I guess it looks a little like business. The weather is fine and time hangs heavy on our hands. I shall be glad when we get away.
Thursday, Apr 15: “A fine day. We are to leave today. All is hustle and bustle. The men are busy packing up and getting ready. We are packing up ourselves.
There was very little drill today. I was busy after dinner getting some sheets signed for Capt. Jones.
I got packed up however in time and we boarded the train about 6.30. There was a band and somewhat of a crowd. We have a sleeping car and a tourist converted into a diner. We are very comfortable. I sent a letter home from Trenton. I went to bed about 10.30.Friday, Apr 16: “I woke up near the province of Quebec. The country is somewhat uninteresting. The(re) are plenty of houses along the sidelines. We arrived at Montreal about moon and changed cars. Saw Dr. Roberts. We left about 2.30. Played Rummy in the afternoon. Went to bed in New Brunswick. We are getting good meals.
Saturday, Apr 17: “Awoke in N.B. The country is getting more interesting. Nova Scotia is rather pretty. At Moncton N.B. we got off the train and had a walk through the town for half an hour, headed by the band. The streets were muddy. After dinner we played rummy again.
At Newcastle we saw a large wireless station. At Amherst we got out and had 15 mins physical exercise – arriving at Halifax 7.30 pm. Had half an hour in the town – don’t think much of it.Sunday, Apr 18: “Stayed on the train last night. At 10 o’clock we fell in at the station and marched up to St. George’s Church founded in 1806 by the Duke of Kent. It is an old fashioned place but historic. Heard a short sermon and marched back to the train. As soon as we got back we gathered up our belongings and marched to the boat, the Northland. We had dinner on the boat. We had second class accommodation. The men have poor accommodation. We left Halifax at about 4 o’clock. It was raining and misty.
Continued from Sunday (on next page).
Halifax harbor is long and winding. There are batteries with very large guns all the way along. The guns look quite large, even from the ship. We headed for the open sea about 7 o’clock. Felt pretty well and went to bed early. Didn’t just feel so very well you know.
Monday, Apr 19: “In bed sick all day. Feel rotten.6
Bill’s autobiography describes the next events:
“In April 1915 we heard rumours of our going overseas, and about the middle of the month got our orders. We went by train to Halifax, and boarded a troop ship which was called H.M.S. Northland, 7 and which originally had been a German ship called the Leeland. There were a number of units on board, one being No. 2 Casualty clearing Station recruited in Toronto, under command of Lieut. Colonel J.E. Davey of Hamilton, and recruited mainly from the 1915 class of the University of Toronto, Faculty of Medicine, who had enlisted practically as a body, and who had been given their medical degrees by the university, while the College of Physicians and Surgeons had given them their licenses. A few became non-commissioned officers but the great majority remained in the ranks as privates until we reached England. xi
Bill’s autobiography continues:
We were convoyed by two British destroyers across the Atlantic, and a few days out from Bristol, one of the destroyers signalled to us a message regarding the Canadian casualties in the first gas attack at Ypres. We felt relieved when we drew into Bristol Harbour in the darkness of a night near the end of April. Next morning we embarked on one of the, to us, tiny English trains, and were taken across England to our camping area at Sandling near Folkestone. May 1, 1915 gave us our first chance to enjoy a perfect spring day in England, complete with the songs of skylarks.” xii
The Diary continues:
Tuesday, Apr 20: “Felt miserable all day. Went up on deck at 1 o’clock and stayed up till nine o’clock. Had nothing to eat since Sunday – didn’t want anything. Had some biscuits just before going to bed.
Wednesday, Apr 21: “Got up at 8.30 and had a little breakfast. Felt fairly good. Spent all forenoon on deck and improve in feeling all the time. The sea was very smooth. Some of the fellows are pretty sick. Roll call at nine o’clock. Felt fine in the afternoon and had a hearty dinner at 7 o’clock.
Thursday, Apr 22: “Up at 9 o’clock. Felt fine and the weather was nice. There were the usual games and sport on board ship. Time is getting heavy on our hands at times. I have a good appetite for meals now.
Friday, Apr 23: “Up at 8 o’clock. An uneventful forenoon. About 11 o’clock a ship appeared on the horizon – at 12.45 the Grampian pulled up alongside. We cheered. In the afternoon another ship appeared which went in between us. It seemed to be empty and the propeller was partly out of the water. She made no sign. I saw two whales in the afternoon blowing.
Saturday, Apr 24: “A fine morning. We had fire drill in the morning, “A” section being allotted to No. 2 station on the starboard side of the boat. After noon there was a medical inspection of the men on board the ship. It is reported that there are some infectious diseases on board. At night there was a concert given by the sergeants and officers. It was very good and $76.00 was collected for the mine sweepers’ fund. We went to bed about 12 o’clock.
Sunday, Apr 25: “Up at 8.30. Church service at 10.30 am a very good discourse. After dinner a cruiser presumably the Cumberland came alongside. A boat was lowered and an officer came aboard. They then rowed away and went over to the Grampian which was only a short piece away. The boat later rejoined the cruiser and then we all sailed off in a line the cruiser leading them, the Northland and then the Grampian. There was service on the deck for the men in the afternoon. We are travelling much faster now.
Monday, Apr 26: “Up early. Nothing much doing in the forenoon. In the afternoon played some deck billiards. We begin to see some birds and sea gulls. We saw a small sailing vessel in the forenoon. In the afternoon we saw a great smoke on the southern horizon but the boat did not come into view.
Tuesday, Apr 27: “Up at 8 o’clock. After breakfast we had life boat drill and all went off pretty well. Then I read a little till dinner time. After luncheon I gave the boys a little physical drill after roll call and Captain Kenney took some snap shots. Then I played deck quoits nearly all afternoon. In the morning the cruiser fired 3 shots and in the afternoon they swung out our life boats. They say we are going to Bristol.
Wednesday, Apr 28: “A fine morning but a little foggy when I came on deck. There were two torpedo boat destroyers the Boyne and the Foyle accompanying us. At 10 o’clock the Cumberland left us presumably for Queenstown. The Boyne signalled to us our destination near Lundy Island.8 We came abreast of the island at 6 o’clock. We sailed up the Bristol Channel pretty well surrounded by destroyers. We anchored near Avonmouth at 12 o’clock till 4 am. Then we docked.
Thursday, Apr 29: “Woke at 7 o’clock in dock at Avonmouth. We disembarked at 9 o’clock and went on board one of the dinky little English trains. We left about 9.30 and got to London about 1 o’clock. We passed through the outskirts of London and came on to Shorncliffe arriving here about 4.30. We had to walk a mile and a half after we left the train. The camp9 is nicely situated and apparently new. The country all along the road was very beautiful and it was a very pleasant trip. We can see the ocean from the camp. Folkestone is the nearest village. I must have a look round tomorrow.
The account of the Atlantic crossing in Stretcher Bearers at the Double places more emphasis on the hardships and privations of the voyage. It notes the cold wet weather and the seasickness and the rough and tumble of military life. The unfairness of bumping and favouritism is described at length. When they boarded ship in Halifax, quarters had already been assigned – or so they thought: xiii
“The method of filling the ship was that the upper decks (cabin accommodation) were occupied by the first units to embark. The lower portions were occupied by the units following. Several other units had already gone on board before us and we were assigned some cabins above the “glory hole,” and also some bunks in the “glory hole” and steerage quarters. In the cabins the accommodation was all that anyone could ask – good bunks and ample room for four persons.
“We had just settled down on our quarters when the rumor spread that we were to be shifted to the lower “glory hole” – to make way for the 2nd Casualty Clearing Station, the members of which were largely medical students, some of whom had their commission papers, although nominally only privates or ‘noncoms’. The 2nd Casualty Clearing Station was the last unit to come aboard and, following the plan adhered to by the other units, should have occupied the “glory hole.” These meticulous wearers of the khaki, however, were able to convince those in charge that they should not be expected to put up with the foul air and dismal gloom of the “glory hole.” And so, before the Canadian shore had faded into the distance, the “Fifth Field Animals” were ordered to vacate their quarters and move down into the “glory hole.”
The disgusting conditions of the “glory hole” right above the bilge are described in graphic detail. Then to add insult to injury…
“Then occurred a regrettable episode: The officer in charge of troops aboard ship had allotted a certain number of vacant berths to the Fifth Field Ambulance. For some reason it had been decided that these berths should be given to the medical students of the unit, the great majority of whom had joined just prior to our departure from Exhibition Camp. This in itself was enough to cause dissatisfaction on the part of those who had been with the unit from the start. Complaint was accordingly laid – a soldier’s privilege – and the explanation given was that “these boys came from good homes.” That was heaping insult on injury! From that time on, the college students or “Rah Rah Boys” were dubbed “the boys who had a home.” The old song, “They Say We’re Going Over the Ocean,” gave place to a new song:
They say that they’re medical students
––
From great university schools;
They call themselves medical students
––
But we call them medical fools.
This appellation, fairly or unfairly, stuck with these students throughout the war. In both his diary and his later autobiography, Bill makes only passing mention of the conditions and instead is focussed on the excitement of his first glimpse of the English coastline and his sense of a great new world opening up for him. Stretcher Bearers at the Double also describes the Atlantic crossing and the excitement of seeing the shoreline of the Bristol Channel, as well as the train ride to Sandling Camp. But again it describes the privations in detail, the fact that no lavatories or food was provided during the whole train trip and the gruelling 2 mile route march from the railway station to the camp. However it mentions that conditions at Sandling Camp, once they got there, were good. There is an interesting contrast between Bill’s perception of the great adventure and the men’s perceptions of privation and unfairness.
Bill’s diary continues:
Friday, Apr 30: “Up at 6.30 a.m. Roll call and signalling – was appointed President of the Mess Committee. Was busy ordering stuff in the afternoon. Went to Folkestone on the 7.30 train at night. The trains are certainly cute. We got down about 8 o’clock. We couldn’t see much of the town on account of the English fog and the lights being darkened. We had lunch in a fairly sporty restaurant where French girls and Belgian soldiers were. The girls smoked and we got home at 10.30. The fog was still thick.
Saturday, May 1: “Fall in and physical exercise until 10 o’clock. After dismissal spent the remainder of the forenoon on the mess account. After dinner, pay until 3 o’clock when we went down to Folkestone. We wandered around the town and saw several Belgian officers and men. The place was full of soldiers. We had dinner at the Café Maestrau and then fooled around the streets. We came home at 10.30 and slept on our boards. We saw lots of women smoking and drinking and several bar-maids. Saw an aeroplane at noon today.
Sunday, May 2: “A beautiful day. Church service at 10. An excellent short sermon. After dinner we walked to Cheriton arriving at the pub too late thereupon we took a bus to Folkestone. We went down to the pier and saw a hospital ship crossing. Saw some mud larks picking prawns in the harbor when the tide was out. Paid 2/1010 for dinner. Saw lots of Belgian and French people. Missed train and took a bus to Southgate. Driver put us off a mile from the station. Train was an hour later than we expected. Got home at 11 o’clock. Saw the Canadian hospital on our way to Cheriton – a white building on the left. There are lots of camps in the vicinity.
Monday, May 3: “Got up at 6 o’clock and took 30 men over to the shower baths. Ordered stuff for the men’s mess. Physical drill signaling and drill in the morning. Off from 11 – 2. Section drill in the afternoon, dismissed at 4. After supper went down to Folkestone on the train. Saw a tombstone dated 1683 in an old churchyard. Saw some typical old English squares and butcher shop with two beautifully carved pigs in front of it – beautifully done. Came home at 10.09. One of the Italians told a funny story about getting lost in Folkestone. Came nearly getting hell because the men had no butter for supper.
Tuesday, May 4: “Drill. Saw an aeroplane at noon. Saw another in the evening. Stayed at home in the evening and straightened up my effects and wrote a few letters. Went to bed fairly early.
Wednesday, May 5: “Up and had physical drill in the morning. In the morning had to see the Colonel about the men’s rations. After drill we had company drill. Saw Col. Fotheringham – said we were sure of commission. In afternoon had company drill then squad drill by corporals. Went to Folkestone after supper and roller skated for the first time. Did fine, then went down to the dancing pier. A destroyer passed during the evening. Came home in a corridor car after 10.09.
Thursday, May 6: “Woke up or rather was woke feeling sore. However, carried on drills & parades as usual. Gave the new squad instructions in first aid. After dinner took some company drill. Felt very tired in the evening and took a sleep.
Friday, May 7: “Inspection by GOC11 McDougall, a tiresome forenoon standing. Saw several aeroplanes during that time. Drills as usual after that time. Another spiel to the new men. Afterwards I had a bath in the showers which are very good. Walked down to Hythe in the evening. Saw a fine old castle and churchyard. The country is beautiful. Hythe is not such a big place. Heard of the sinking of the Lusitania. Got home at 9.30.
Saturday, May 8: “Drill in the morning. Slept in the afternoon. After supper went on the train to Sandgate by way of Hythe. A nice little trip which takes about 20minutes. We walked along the shore to Folkestone. The beach is nice – we tried to see Sandgate Castle but it was occupied by a guard. It was built in 1539. We went to the Pleasure Gardens Theatre in Folkestone and saw a very good vaudeville show. Bus to Hythe and walked home.
Sunday, May 9: “Up and went over to the Sir John French Club to service. There wasn’t any so we had the day off. After dinner we went down to Hythe. We went through the Saltwood church and castle taking views. We examined Hythe Church and its crypt with the bones. It was all very interesting. We walked home and attended Saltwood Church. Got home early and went to bed early.
Monday, May 10: “Routine. Were issued with identification tags and knives in the morning it was very warm. Stayed in in the evening. After we had gone to bed we saw the funniest event of the campaign. S. Sgt. Smith had the lights on and Sgt Clark with only a shirt on undertook to turn them off. They grappled and had a wrestling match in a bucket of water which they upset on the floor.
Tuesday, May 11: “Routine in the morning. Stayed in in the evening, played football a little while and then studied some French. Went to bed fairly early. Saw some aeroplanes clearly. They have a base belvue (bellevue) over the hills from here.
Wednesday, May 12: “A fine warm day. Routine in the forenoon after dinner we went away on a route march down through Saltwood and to Hythe and back. It was most enjoyable we got back about 4 o’clock. After supper we went down to Folkestone and there I ran across my old friend (Dr. Leeming) Carr. I went out with him to his barracks at St. Martin’s Plain and walked home from Cheriton – got home about 12 o’clock. Saw several aeroplanes today.
Thursday, May 13: “Raining. Ascension Day. No parade. Lecture by Major Kappele at 10.30.
Moving in the afternoon, very muddy and disagreeable. We moved into a very nice hut however. Was busy all afternoon till 6 o’clock when I caught the train to Folkestone. Met Carr at 7.30 and we fooled around town and went to a picture show. Afterwards we came home fast. Raining all the time.Friday, May 14: “Misty and cold. No parade. Cleaning up the rooms. Lecture at 10.30. Route march down to Queens Canadian Military Hospital and back. I was real tired and I stayed at home.
Saturday, May 15: “Routine. Went round with the S.M 12 who left in the morning and left me in charge. We had a pay parade at 12 o’clock finishing at 1.30. Muster parade called off in the afternoon. Went to Folkestone and saw “S’ Nice” at the Pleasure Gardens Theatre. Came home on the 10.06 train. A bunch of the men had got drunk and broke a door.
Sunday, May 16: “Church parade at 9. Half the unit went to Presbyterian and Methodist Church. Sgt. Camps laid a charge against Sgt. Smith and Allen and 78 men for sleeping in. had an argument about it. Went out for a walk in the evening. Went to see the adjutant and tried to fix the case up. Went to bed early. Have an interesting week ahead of me.
Monday, May 17: “Up early everyone up. Orderly room at 9 o’clock. Sgt. Smith and Alden up and the men. Got hell for not having them there on time. They got extra drill for an hour in the mornings. Rained in the morning and the
Tuesday, May 18: “Up in morning. Raining, men dismissed after roll call until their lecture. In p.m. we went out for a route march over the hills to the north of the camp. We saw the water system. Coming home the Colonel raised hell with the men for straggling. All the sergeants had to report to him in the morning. An interesting day.
Wednesday, May 19: “Up at 5.45. Misty but not raining. Early drill as usual. Orderly room went off pretty well. Route march in the forenoon and then a lecture. Regulation drills in afternoon. Stayed in in the evening. A fairly smooth day.
Although the Canadian forces seemed to have a surplus of doctors, this was certainly not true for the Imperial forces. His autobiography continues:
“After about three weeks in camp in the Folkestone area, orders came down from the War Office to all colonial units that if they had any medical men without commissions, the Royal Army Medical Corps was very short of officers and would welcome them and give them commissions with the rank of Lieutenant. The four medical sergeants in No. 5 Field Ambulance responded to the call, as did the medical graduates in the ranks of No. 2 Casualty Clearing Station. On May 27th we went up to London, reported first to the Canadian Director-General of Medical Services, General Carleton Jones, received his blessing and advice, and went over to the War Office to enrol in the British Army Medical Service.
“Again I had one of the thrills of a lifetime. Frank Overholt and I, and the two other physician sergeants, found our way over to Whitehall, past the window from which Charles I walked to his death, passed the world famous Scotland Yard, and entered the awe-inspiring portals of the British War Office. There we were documented, issued with our equipment allowance, provided with a list of the equipment required by an officer of the Royal Army Medical Corps, and given our choice of several Officers Training Camps. Frank and I elected to go to one at Torquay, the other two chose Bournemouth.
“We were given a week’s leave in London to secure our uniforms and equipment, and issued a railway warrant to Torquay. We registered at the Strand Palace Hotel, and from there as a base, we ordered our uniforms in Conduit Street, visited our bankers, Holt & Co., purchased our officers’ equipment and spent the rest of the week sightseeing in London. 13 We found Trafalgar Square, Piccadilly Circus, Regent Street, the Strand, the Embankment, the Tower of London, ate in the Trocadero, in Simpson’s in the Strand, and in the Cheshire Cheese, and saw Buckingham Palace and the Changing of the Guard. One week later, resplendent in new uniforms as Lieutenants in the British Army, Frank Overholt and I took the London and Southwestern Railway to Torquay.”xiv14
The reader is impressed that despite desperate fighting in France and Belgium across the channel only 100 miles or so away, life in the English capital seemed to be proceeding more or less as usual. Obviously there were some wartime privations but these are hardly mentioned. This is in sharp contrast to the conditions in the Second World War when Londoners were experiencing Hitler’s blitzkrieg war.
“On the way down the porter was taking orders for tea. We had heard of the English afternoon tea custom, but Frank would have none of it. I, however, ordered tea and crumpets, and enjoyed the refreshments while Frank looked on. It was not too long, however, until Frank was enjoying his afternoon tea as well as the rest of us. We arrived in Torquay to find that the Officers Training Camp had a few days before being moved back to Salisbury Plain. We wired the War Office for instructions and were told to proceed to Salisbury Plain by tomorrow’s train. We spent the night at the leading hotel in Torquay, and arrived at the Camp at Salisbury Plain the next day. Here we spent the next six weeks, taking an excellent course of instruction for R.A.M.C. officers, a good deal of which we had had as sergeants of No. 5 Field Ambulance. In July Frank got orders for France, and I got orders for Gallipoli, along with a new found Canadian friend, Lieut. Arthur Lomas, R.A.M.C., of Montreal, who, like us, also had been transferred to the Royal Army Medical Corps.” xv
Once in the Royal Army Medical Corps, life for Bill seemed to take on a more serious demeanour. This is his first mention of the Gallipoli campaign. In April 1915, the Australian and New Zealand troops posted at Alexandria and Port Said in Egypt had made landings on the Gallipoli Peninsula. They were supported by British and French troops that landed at Cape Hellas on the southern tip. The Turkish troops on the peninsula had had time to prepare and the positions were well defended. The Anzacs suffered heavy losses and could not even reach their primary objective, the village of Krithia.
By this time, the Royal Navy battleships had also had heavy losses and the casualty clearing stations were overloaded with the injured and dying. Casualties were being moved back to Egypt as rapidly as possible and the base hospital at Port Said was filled to overflowing. By this time the need for medical personnel and treatment facilities on this front had eclipsed the heavy demands in France and Belgium. The Eastern Mediterranean theatre of war was hence very important in the early years of the war but got scant attention by Canadians who were mostly focussed on the Western Front in France:
“Lomas and I had orders to embark at Devonport with a contingent of (re)inforcements15 for the Gallipoli campaign. We spent the night at the Queen’s Hotel there, and next morning went to the Hoe at Plymouth, to see the spot where Drake bowled while awaiting the Spanish Armada. In the afternoon we embarked on the good ship H.M.S. Canada with a group of young Australian, New Zealand and Canadian Medical Officers in the Royal Army Medical Corps, bound for service in various areas in the Middle East. Among them was one of my friends, the late Dr. Leeming Carr, Jr., who had been a sergeant in No. 2 Casualty Clearing Station and transferred to the Royal Army Medical Corps on arrival in Britain. Leeming went to Gallipoli, and was the last man off at the evacuation.
“We sailed that evening, crossed the Bay of Biscay, passed the towering Rock of Gibraltar, saw the incomparable blue of the Mediterranean with its flying fish, spent a day in harbour at Malta, and arrived outside the harbour at Alexandria one afternoon three days later, anchoring off shore for the night. Disembarking next morning, we took (the) train for Cairo, and after registering at Shepheard’s Hotel, we reported to the Headquarters of the Mediterranean Expeditionary Force. We were given three days leave, and during three extremely hot days in July with temperatures running around 110o F., we did some sightseeing, visited the Sphinx and pyramids at Gizeh.16
“Reporting back to Headquarters, Lomas and I were sent up to Port Said at the Mediterranean end of the Suez Canal, to organize a Convalescent Camp for casualties from Gallipoli. Lomas was returned to Cairo within a week, and eventually a Captain Redpath, whose Field Ambulance of 250 men had been sunk by torpedo in the Mediterranean when nearing Port Said, was sent with a dozen of his surviving personnel to join me, and we established the Convalescent Camp, which by February 1916 when Gallipoli was evacuated, had grown to have 600 beds….” xvi
There was another big campaign in August which failed to meet objectives. The casualties were appalling and all were descending on the base hospital and the convalescent camps around Cairo. This continued throughout the autumn and early winter of 1916 when a decision was finally taken to cut further losses and evacuate the peninsula.17
The autobiography continues:
“…It was then wound up and Redpath and I were sent to Cairo, where I was attached to a British General Hospital as Assistant Bacteriologist. Three months (later) I contracted smallpox, having studied at close range for purposes of diagnosis, what turned out to be the first British Army case of smallpox. I nearly died, but spent most of the summer in the Egyptian Fever Hospital, and during convalescence was sent back to England, by H.M. Hospital Ship, Essequibo….”
Bill never talked about this part of his life very much. The author described conversations with him some 30 years later in which he talked about this in more detail. He said that he had been vaccinated in his youth, using the older injection technique commonly used at the time although the newer ‘scratch’ method was recognized as more effective. He got the usual pustular scab and scar but in retrospect he felt that it had not “taken” properly. Smallpox was endemic in Egypt but all military personnel had been vaccinated so the single case of a soldier with a pox-like disease was of great clinical interest.
When he first became ill, the diagnosis was not clear. It was a colleague in the British General Hospital, Philip Manson-Bahr (later Sir Philip) who made the diagnosis. By this time he was so sick that he has little recollection of the next few weeks except that the Australian nurses were wonderful. When the crisis passed and he became more aware of his surroundings, he was so heavily pock-marked around his face and upper body that at first he did not recognize himself in the mirror. He carried these marks to his death, but by then they had faded to a faint pebbly appearance. But when he returned from the war in 1919 he was still very conscious of this and said he was rather shy and withdrawn for many years.
Philip Manson-Bahr was the son of Sir Patrick Manson, the founder and patron of the London School of Tropical Medicine and Hygiene. Bill was in contact with Philip during the rest of the war and visited Sir Patrick when he was in London later in 1916. Bill became a Fellow of the Royal Society of Tropical Medicine and Hygiene in 1934 and always maintained his connections with British medicine and pathology. He continues:
“…After a short stay in King’s College hospital, I reported to the War Office and was given six weeks’ sick leave. During this time I managed to get home for a week, and paid a visit to Hamilton. My friend, Dr. Ingersoll Olmsted, tried to get my discharge from the Royal Army Medical Corps, but, in due course, I returned to London, reported to the War Office, was placed on home service, and assigned to the staff of the Cambridge Military Hospital at Aldershot. I remained there as Pathologist for the next 10 months.
Again, Bill was faced with a conflict of duties. This seemed to be a recurring issue for him as he was first invited to take a fellowship in pathology at Johns Hopkins Hospital which he turned down because of his promise to return to the Hamilton General. He was invited to join the Colonial Tropical Medicine Service after the war but again turned it down for the same reason. Because of his sense of duty to the war effort, he was not willing to pursue the opportunity to seek a medical discharge from the R.A.M.C. in 1916. He was very weak for 6 or 8 months and his convalescence from smallpox was slow so he would have been entitled to seek such a discharge.
The autobiography continues:
“I was eventually boarded fit for overseas service again in August, and got orders to go to France. I was quite keen to get to France after my sojourn in the Eastern Mediterranean, but it was not to be. A few hours before I was to have crossed the Channel for France, a wire from the War Office cancelled my orders. A week later, during the first week of August 1917, I got my orders to proceed to Southampton for an overland trip across Europe as a reinforcement for the British Salonica Force. At Southampton I found my classmate and fellow intern of the Hamilton City Hospital, Doctor Frank McLay, to be a member of the party. Also, there were two of our Toronto friends, Dr. Tom Cumberland and Dr. “Mike” Gorman. All four of us had joined the Royal Army Medical Corps about the same time. The four of us spent the next three weeks on the way to Salonika.xvii
There are several very good books that describe conditions in the military during WWI from the personal experience of the writer. One is the story of the 5th Field Ambulance Stretcher Bearers at the Double. Another is The Great War as I Saw It by Canon F. G. Scott.18xviii These books demonstrate that the horrors of war were fully appreciated at that time and were well documented. But historical revisionists of the mid-late 20th century seem to have made a new discovery that war is horrible and decried the patriotic jingoism of the period asserting that it represented a form of denial and a total distortion of reality. These and other contemporary accounts belie that interpretation of history. People in the trenches were only too aware of the horrors of war but in their view it was necessary to protect their country and their way of life. Others at home were protected from the very worst of war’s horrors but certainly were all too aware of it.
Bill’s son recalls:
“During World War II, my father told me about his days in Egypt and Macedonia. I replied that I wished that I had been a few years older so that I could have joined up in the Second World War. Dad remarked: “No, John, you are lucky you are too young to be in it.” Having heard some of his patriotic speeches, I was very surprised by this comment and said so. Dad commented that he would have expected his son to join up but he wouldn’t have wanted him to. From this I learned that duty is different from desire.xix
The people of those days were very aware of these things. But perhaps people in each generation have to discover this for themselves. That could be why the attitudes to the Great War were very different at the end of the war than they were at the beginning. And the strong anti-war attitudes in the second half of the 20th century were undoubtedly fixed by the experience of two devastating world wars only 21 years apart in the first half of the century. There was far more denial of reality in the closing decades of the 20th century than there was during either of the wars or in the immediate post-war period.
1 On Christmas Day, 1914, the Allied and German forces on the Western Front declared an impromptu cease fire and greeted each other in no-man’s land to toast the holiday season. As the bloody war dragged on, such shows of camaraderie ceased and were never repeated.
2 Dr. George Devey Farmer.
3 Dr. Daniel Paul Kappele.
4 A glossary of military abbreviations and acronyms may be useful: R.A. stands for Recreational Activity. S. Sgt. Is Staff Sergeant.
5 There were two companies in this camp, referred to as “A” Section and “B” Section. In voice communications, all letters are assigned names. In both the First and Second World Wars, ‘A’ became Able, ‘B’ became Baker, ‘C’ became Charlie, ‘D’ became Dog &c. The meaning of A.S.C. is unclear. It could refer to ‘A’ Section. ‘Baker’ is probably ‘B’ Section.
6 Mariners are very familiar with the sea-sickness of the first day out on the ocean. It is very different from the experience on the calmer inland waterways. Bill’s experience was typical.
7 Glossary: H.M.S. – His (Her) Majesty’s Ship. Warships and other ships used in the conduct of his Majesty’s official business would be designated this way. This would distinguish them from commercial shipping: M.S. – Merchant Ship. S.S. – Steam Ship.
8 Lundy Island is in the mouth of the Bristol Channel off Barnstaple Bay.
9 Sandling Camp.
10 British currency was in pounds £, shillings and pence. It would be shown as 1/1/1 (One pound, One shilling and one penny). For smaller amounts, only shillings and pence would be shown (2/10was 2 shillings and 10 pence. At that time the exchange rate with Canadian $4.80 to the pound. Decimal currency was not introduced in the UK until the mid-1960s.
11 Glossary: GOC – General Officer Commanding.
12 Glossary: S.M. – Sergeant Major. R.S.M. – Regimental Sergeant Major.
13 Bill bought all his uniform and equipment in London. There are bills from Goodall & Graham for a dress uniform at £9|3|6. Austin and Williams provided a wrist watch at £2|7|6. Downie & Marshall provided spurs at £0|16|6.
14 There is also a handwritten service record that all officers were required to keep. In it were recorded all service postings and other information. The War Office directed him to draw his pay from Messers Holt & Co., Army Agents. There is also a long list of articles of uniform required by officers in the Royal Army Medical Corps. (RAMC). There was a letter of introduction from the Canadian Department of the Interior and a certification from the College of Physicians and Surgeons of Ontario that he was a physician.
15 The typed text reads “the inforcements” which would seem to be a transcribing error.
16 There are many photographs and pictures on file. Bill took most of them in the Cairo and Port Said area. There are some taken at Ghiza with Bill on a camel.
17 It was Bill’s service in the Convalescent Camp and the Base Hospital that entitled him to wear a Gallipoli Veterans pin even though he never set foot on the Gallipoli Peninsula.
18 Canon Scott was a military chaplain with the First Canadian Division, Canadian Expeditionary Force on the Western Front from 1914 to 1918. The book is dedicated to the officers and men of that unit and has some rather graphic descriptions of the horrors of war. Canon Scott found many of them very challenging to his faith in the basic goodness of humanity and the compassion of an Almighty God. Yet despite this he continued to regard the war as necessary to protect the values society and his religion espouses.
i Deadman, WJ: Canadian Medicine – and the Spirit of 1914-1918. Can. Med. Assn. J.
(submitted 41/06/10.)
Deadman, WJ: The Hospital Interne and the War. Ont. Med. Assn. Bulletin, January 1941.
Deadman, WJ: The Young Physician and the War. Ont. Med. Assn. Bulletin, July 1941.
Deadman, WJ: The Call of the Royal Army Medical Corps. Ont. Med. Assn. Bulletin, 8:5
Sept-Oct., 1941.
Deadman, WJ: Canada’s Supply of Army Doctors. Can. Med. Assn. J., 46: pp. 60-62, 1942.
Deadman, WJ: Members on Active Service. Can. Jour. Medical Technology. 3: 4
September, 1941.
ii Memories of the Hamilton of the Teens and Twenties – Part I – 1910-1919.
iii Noyes, Frederick; Stretcher Bearers at the Double. The Hunter Rose Company, Toronto, 1936. It is sub-titled “History of the Fifth Canadian Field Ambulance which served overseas during the Great War of 1914-1918.” Limited numbered edition with numerous black and white photographs.
iv Ibid. p 5.
v From a handwritten diary for the year 1915. This diary has entries for January and parts of April and May, 1915 but the rest is blank. The diary is shown in an appendix.
vi Stretcher Bearers… Ibid. p 7.
vii Ibid. p 7.
viii Memories of the Hamilton of the Teens and Twenties.
ix From the diary for the year 1915. Ibid.
x Memories of the Hamilton of the Teens and Twenties. Ibid.
xi Memories of the Hamilton of the Teens and Twenties. Ibid.
xii Memories of the Hamilton of the Teens and Twenties. Ibid.
xiii Stretcher Bearers at the Double. Ibid, pp 17-19.
xiv Memories of the Hamilton of the Teens and Twenties. Ibid.
xv Memories of the Hamilton of the Teens and Twenties. Ibid.
xvi Memories of the Hamilton of the Teens and Twenties. Ibid.
xvii Memories of the Hamilton of the Teens and Twenties. Ibid.
xviii Scott, Frederick George; The Great War as I Saw It. F. D. Goodchild Company, Toronto, 1922.
xix Personal recollections of the author.