. . . . War . . . .
In the winter and early spring of 1914 most Canadians were absorbed with the news of the disastrous depression that had followed the railway construction of the 1900s, or with the widespread prairie crop failure. There was talk of war, but in June, during a debate in the Canadian House of Commons about a proposed increase to the size of the militia, a member of parliament said, “There is no danger in sight; why then raise the Militia of this country to the enormous figure of between 75,000 and 80,000 men? There is no reason for it; there is no emergency in sight, and there will be none this day and during our generation.’
Canadians were too preoccupied to theorize much about war and peace. Although there had been warning signs, the outbreak of war in the summer of 1914 was largely unexpected. The First World War, the Great War, as they called it, finally tore Europe apart during the summer of 1914 sparked by the assassination of the Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria.
Canadians woke up to the news of war on the morning of Tuesday, August 4th, 1914, just after the Labour Day long weekend. That day elements of the German Army marched into Belgium. By evening England, honouring an old treaty with Belgium, declared war on Germany.
Canada in 1914 had virtually no parliamentary rights to forge its own foreign policy; nor could the Canadian government have any part in the decision to make war or negotiate peace. When England went to war, Canada as a Commonwealth country also went to war. When the war was announced to Canada on August 4th, thousands took to the streets in support of England.
At the beginning of the war, there was an abundance of exuberance, unbridled enthusiasm, and patriotic fervour captivating the minds and hearts of young Canadians everywhere. The government propaganda machine.
If England needed help, Canada had the manpower. The 1911 census counted 7.2 million inhabitants, although the number had risen to 7.7 million in the three years leading up to 1914. There were roughly 1.9 million men of military age in Canada.
Thousands of men were looking to volunteer. In August of 1914, a Canadian contingent of the Canadian Expeditionary Force (CEF) was raised. After shoving and jostling to the front of the recruitment lines, many were bitterly disappointed to find that they didn’t meet the military’s high medical and physical standards. These standards were to be greatly relaxed in the coming years in order to find men to fill the decimated ranks from battles such as those at Passchendaele, Vimy Ridge, Hill 70, Mount Sorrel and the Somme.
In that first initial troop surge the Canadian government sent seventeen battalions to fight in France in October 1914 (a battalion numbered roughly 1,000 men). Most people thought, “They'll be home for Christmas,” but it didn't take long for the somber reality of WW1 to sink in. Most of ‘the originals’ who volunteered for the CEF never returned to Canada.
War planners started to realize the enormity and scope of the Flanders battlefields. This was going to be a long war and heavy casualties would become a grim reality. Men were dying at an alarming rate and more soldiers were needed.
A second call went out in early 1915 looking for additional troops to fill the trenches. There was still not enough volunteers and a third recruitment drive was required. This group of soldiers would be found in Canada during late 1915 and early 1916. One of the new recruits was to be George Kirkham.
At this point in Canadian history, 65% of the Canadian population was rural. From a rural point of view, the farmers’ relationship with the war effort was not simple. It was difficult to know which duty was more pressing - stay in Canada and work the land to produce food, or, as recruiters were urging Canadian men to do, join the Canadian Expeditionary Force and fight in Europe.
The federal Minister of Agriculture reassured farmers with his first Canada-wide food production campaign, “Patriotism and Production,” in 1915. The campaign urged farmers to increase wheat and farm production in Canada at any price to feed Britain, making farmers and their families indispensable in the fields.
Not everyone accepted that definition for the role of Canada’s farmers — especially the military authorities, who had to find men to fill their battalions. This need for more soldiers intensified as the federal government kept increasing the numbers of fighting men it sought for the Canadian Expeditionary Force.
After the first 30,000 volunteers in the summer of 1914, Prime Minister Robert Borden set further objectives - October 1915 - 250,000 soldiers, and in January 1916 - 500,000 men. Given the difficulty officers were having in filling their ranks from urban centers alone, more pressure was exerted on rural communities from 1915 onward. Recruiters were now covering the length and breadth of the Canadian countryside enlisting as many men as possible.
To bolster recruitment in late 1915, speaker’s bureaus and patriotic associations sprang up all over Canada, encouraging younger men to give their all. Recruiting meetings took place in every conceivable public space, complete with military bands, amateur entertainment, flickering films from the front, patriotic orators and occasional “returned men” with tales from the trenches.
Newspaper editors grew strident about lagging enlistment. Clergy preached on patriotic duty. Methodists were humiliated by statistics showing a mere eight percent Methodist share of the CEF’s volunteers. The Church pledged to do better.
In the autumn of 1915, the Minister of Militia announced that from then on recruitment in rural areas would be carried out locally, not by the largely urban battalions units presently trying to fill positions. That decision gave rise to the “rural battalions.” Recruiting officers travelled through the Quebec and Ontario countryside by train reach even the most remote farms.
During those early war years, there was little escape from the war talk. It was the centre of conversation wherever people gathered. Billie and the family would discuss the conflict over the supper table; after all, they all knew families that had been affected by the war. George even knew friends in the area that were currently serving overseas. Sarah looked around the table and noted to herself that there were three sons of military age. Young George seemed to be more interested than the other boys.
The government of the day acknowledged that taking too many young men away from the farm would result in lower food production. It was therefore generally accepted one son on a farm should enlist. George felt if he volunteered the family would have contributed to the war, and his other brothers could remain on the farm. Later in 1918, brother Arthur was to be drafted. Arthur was sent for training at Fort Niagara, but World War 1 ended with the signing of the Armistice Treaty in November, 1918. Art never saw service overseas.
. . . . 162nd - The Parry Sound Timberwolves . . . .
There had been a militia presence in Parry Sound before the start of the war. The original militia unit, the Northern Fusiliers, was formed on September 1, 1903. On January 1, 1904 it was redesigned as the 23rd Northern Pioneers. One hundred soldiers from the 23rd company became part of the initial 1914 troops that were absorbed into the London based 1st Battalion - 1st Brigade. This unit was organized in the first months of the war.
During the fall of 1915, Defense Minister Hughes authorized 86 new CEF battalions. During the winter of 1916, he added an additional 58 more battalions. Anyone with a bright idea and access to the minister had a chance to set up his own unit.
The First World War recruiting was based on PAL Battalions. This would allow men the opportunity to join with others from their community, town, city or county. Friends and neighbours could enlist together, knowing that they would go overseas as a group.
The army in the recruiting frenzy of late 1915 set up recruitment centers in the Parry Sound area. The 162nd Battalion recruited in an area north of Muskoka, up to Peasant, into North Bay and across from Parry Sound to the Algonquin Park boundary. This district was thinly populated and had suffered from depopulation since the beginning of the war.
The ranks were filled quickly, as men were lured by the promise of a steady wage, a good suit of clothes, and above all, adventure. A Company and headquarters units trained out of Parry Sound with some units scattered in the nearby communities. B Company was located in Powassan, C Company in Huntsville and D at Bracebridge.
The driving force behind the formation of the battalion was James Arthur (Oct. 3, 1866 - 1937). Arthur had previously been associated with the local militia unit, the 23rd Northern Pioneer Regiment.
Arthur had been born in Toronto and had moved north to seek his fortune. He was a prominent citizen in the area who owned and operated a store in the Commanda area since 1885.
Arthur had been elected to the House of Commons in 1908 as a conservative member. He used his political connections and influence with then Defense Minister Hughs to sponsor a new unit. The 162nd Battalion was created on December 22, 1915.
Taking a leave of absence from parliament, Arthur became the commander of the Timber Wolves in early 1916. He was assigned the rank of Lieutenant Colonel (Lt. Col). and was to lead the 162nd Battalion overseas. The Parry Sound infantry unit was initially intended to be part of the 5th Canadian Division. In the end, the 5th Division was never authorized.
The local battalion attracted mainly farmers, outdoorsmen, and lumbermen. To further entice rural soldiers, the Army allowed farming battalions the opportunity to institute harvest leaves. The Parry Sound battalion was to be given two harvest leaves before departing for France.
The army attracted all kinds, but idealists were more common than idlers. Most of the men who joined in 1916 left good jobs behind them. At this stage of the war, they had few illusions about glory or easy victories. One can only guess why men enlisted: social pressure, adventure seeking, patriotism, unemployment, escape from a dead end job, and self- respect . These reasons and others have motivated recruits through the ages.
. . . . George Joins the Army . . . .
George Kirkham decided in 1916 that it was time to enlist. More than a tear or two was shed by his mother, Sarah, as George left the homestead that day. Young George walked into the recruitment center on February 25, 1916 located at the Waubamik Hotel. An officer sat at a folding table behind a stack of pale blue forms and copied down George’s personal data.
To be attested, a volunteer agreed to serve in the Canadian Overseas Expeditionary Force for at least a year and at most the duration of the war, plus six months. They swore to “be faithful and bear true allegiance to His Majesty King George the Fifth, His Heirs and Successors,” and to “observe and obey all orders of his Majesty, his heirs and successors and of all generals and officers set over him.” George barely heard or cared about the words.
The recruitment officer noted on the attestment papers that George was 25 years old, 5’7’’ and 132 pounds. He listed George’s date of birth, country of origin, trade, marital status, former service, and whether he was willing to be vaccinated. Lacking convenient photographic identification, another form recorded Grandpa’s height, chest measurements, eye colour, distinctive marks, religious denomination, and age.
With all the information recorded the enlistment officer placed a finger on the papers and said, “Sign here.” With the paper work was done, the officer, who was a temporary Justice of the Peace, administered the oath of allegiance to the new recruit.
All members of the 162nd were assigned service numbers. For the 162nd that meant a number from 657001 t0 660000. Private Kirkham was assigned service number 657584. He was now a member of the Parry Sound Battalion which in less than a year would be at the Western Front.
George next went for his medical examination with Doctor Fred Porter from Powassan. George was joined by other recruits. He stripped and was summoned by an orderly for his turn.
Captain Porter had enlisted on January 24, 1916. He was appointed the Chief Medical Officer for the newly formed battalion and performed the exam for fifty cents a head. It was the role of the Medical Officer, or MO, attached to each infantry battalion, to oversee the well-being and health of the soldiers under their charge.
Earlier in the war these medical standards had been quite rigorous with up to 40% of men being rejected. There were many reasons for medical rejection, among them weak eyesight, poor hearing, bad teeth and flat feet. However, by 1916, with the need for fresh recruits, passing the test was just a formality. George looked healthy so the doctor swiftly completed the few examination in just ten minutes. George was declared “Fit”. Porter signed the medical forms
.
Captain Porter was eventually to see duty on the front lines as reported in a British Medical Journal in 1918: “He (Porter) dresses many wounded during the operation, working in the open under intense fire, and set a splendid example of courage and self sacrifice.”
In addition to a medical exam, George required a dental examination. Those with problems were told to get their ivories attended to so they might be able to properly eat the food they are liable to get at the front. It was pointed out that it would be anywhere from six months to a year before the men in active service regiments would be able to secure the services of a dentist. As a result, George was encouraged to get any latent defects fixed before they left for France. George booked his first visit to a dentist. Local dentists were swamped with the sudden influx of appointment requests.
. . . . The McKellar Boys . . . .
In the nearby town of McKellar about twenty other men from the area had also chosen to enlist. Some of these men had come from the nearby areas which included Hurdsville, Broadbent and Dunchurch. George joined the “McKellar boys” in early March when the town became their first training centre. The McKellar boys were part of A Company that had its main training centre in Parry Sound.
Defense Minister Hughs encouraged battalions to billet men in local detachments. This delighted mayors and local hotelkeepers that stood to profit from the troops. The new soldiers were housed at the McKellar Hotel, owned by James Saunders. Sanders received 60 cents per night for each man boarded. Locals also supplied the necessary food for the hungry troops. It cost the Canadian government 75 cents each day to keep a soldier well fed.
Captain Fred Leushner, who had been running a sawmill in Waubamik, became the Commanding Officer and responsible for the McKellar soldiers’ training. He was a top marksman and he had been in the American Army for fifteen years prior to returning to Canada, just before the start of World War 1. Leushner had also trained with the the 23rd Northern Pioneers.
During the war years local communities were expected to support their troops. At the start of the war, each member of the McKellar Council went through the area and collected oats, potatoes, and other goods, as well as money for the Patriotic Fund. Reeve Herb Thompson was to look after a shipment from Waubamik, and a list was sent to the Sheriff.
The crops and money collected in 1916, the reeve went to a meeting at Scotia for the purpose of outfitting the 162nd Battalion. The township paid $60 to the Parry Sound War Auxiliary to help equip the Timber Wolves.
It was an exciting time and the soldiers were popular in the small town. The boys from McKellar were to stay together for a year, forging strong ties that would survive long after their army service.
The Army had just ten months to complete Private Kirkham’s transition from civilian to a soldier capable of fighting effectively in a modern war. Step one of that transition began with this small group of McKellar men. They started training from a room in the McKellar Hall that soon became the "armouries" for the village.
Initially the men performed their duties on the parade grounds in civilian clothes. Uniforms would be issued later by the Quartermaster Sergeant. Along with their uniforms the men received brass collar badges and CANADA shoulder badges. The new recruits settled into the regular routine of training camp.
The Canadian Army liked its men smart and tidy, with polished buttons and boots, tidy uniforms and a clean living space. This was the first lesson any recruit would have to learn.
Kit inspection was a regular feature of barracks life and took place generally once a week. On these occasions, George’s kit items were laid out for inspection. If any items were missing, his pay was docked and he could expect to be assigned extra duties as punishment.
To the military, personal hygiene was paramount. It was in crowded barracks and the Drill Hall where contagious diseases could be spread easily. A shower and bath parade was a weekly activity. But here in the north, dips in the nearby lakes were a daily occurrence to cool off from a long day of training.
Great attention was paid to personal grooming. Short, severe haircuts were the order of the day. Each man was issued a cut-throat razor and shaving soap as part of his kit, and he was expected to use both each day, in quarters and in the field. Moderate mustaches were acceptable; full beards, were not. To help with shaving, those that could afford it purchased a Gillette safety razor with replaceable blades, though at $5.00 apiece they were an expensive luxury.
With limited training facilities at McKellar drilling, marching and shooting were the main priorities. This meant squad drills such as, slope arms, order arms, stand at attention and at ease were the major component of training. Of course, there was the time-honoured marching up and down a parade ground, wheeling left and right, about facing, and the halting and setting off as ordered. Obedience was drilled in through these repetitive activities.
Additionally, there were exercises practicing the correct way to salute an officer for example, or rifle drill to learn the right way to hold and present their weapon. These activities helped foster the process of moulding individuals into a well disciplined unit capable of collectively functioning under the often disorientating conditions they would encounter on the battlefield.
. . . . Camp Edgar - Sundridge . . . .
Many of these small detachment towns in the area made bids to eventually become the battalion training center. The town of Sundridge was eventually selected. After a month of training together, the McKellar group moved to Sundridge, along with other smaller contingents that had also initially trained locally. By May 1916, just over 700 men from the various small hamlets had joined the battalion.
They were now training together at the newly organized Camp Edgar located just one half mile east of Sundridge on John Paget’s Farm.
The area became a beehive of activity. Hundreds of Bell tents were pitched in the open fields. There were horses and the noise of jingling harnesses and bits. Men formed groups marching in every direction. Bugles could be heard all day and officers shouting orders. Mess tents sprung up and the field kitchens were busy creating meals for the men. The kitchens were busy every hour of the day preparing meals and snacks.
Soldiers had plenty of time to find recreation opportunities away from camp. The hotel and restaurants were George’ favorite haunts. The new soldiers swamped the local businesses. Shopkeepers not only provided services for individual soldiers but also supplies for the battalion. The four months that the 162nd trained in the area added generously to the area businesses bottom lines.
It was at Sundridge that most of the kit that George was to “own” for the next 3 years was issued. The Quartermaster Sergeant spread a waterproof sheet on the ground, and commenced throwing a miscellaneous assortment of straps, buckle, and other equipment into it. George gazed at what looked like pile of junk. He was to learn that each piece of equipment was deemed important by the army for George’s survival.
Old soldiers set the tone at Camp Edgar, and a new soldier found out that there was much he should do “like a man”. As was common with the bunkhouse life of mining, logging, and construction camps, a soldier’s new comrades expected a man to drink, smoke, swear, and gamble. Whatever his pay, a good soldier spent it generously and usually wound up broke before payday.
Regular fights, endless swearing and constant noise made barracks life for some an ordeal. Recruit Roy MacFie, a fellow McKellar soldier, wrote about this time, “We had a few wrestles and fights.”
For many men this mayhem was balanced with the intense friendships that were developed throughout training and continued to the battlefield. This intensity of human comradeship would become the most important memory of George’s army live.
A man joined the CEF expecting to perhaps become a hero or patriot to his family and friends. George’s first sacrifice, however, was to plummet to the bottom of the social scale. He was a private in the Canadian Army. A private’s main purpose was to follow orders without question. Even in Canada, privates found that the better hotels and restaurants often barred them. This new social order rankled many a private, but they seldom challenged the rules.
Private Kirkham discovered army life was not the carefree existence of his homestead upbringing. There were a universe of regulations and potential offenses, ranging from drunkenness and absence without leave to insubordination and its silent version, “dumb insolence.”
An accused offender would be marched to the guardroom, deprived of cap and belt, and lodged in a cell. Next morning, the prisoner stood stiff and bareheaded before the company commander. Depending on the gravity of the charge and the need to make an example of him, he could face his colonel or a full court martial.
The winter climate in McKellar and Sundridge camps throughout much of the training period in 1916 made it difficult to effectively train troops. Despite the cold, troops trained from sunrise to sunset.
There was the constant sound of bugles blowing, urging the men to different training areas. Horse lines were formed with the officers’ mounts and battalion transportation. Grooms could be seen polishing the reins, the horses bits and chains. Hay and watering duties for the horses required the men’s daily attention.
For the most part, inexperienced NCOs’ and officers conducted the training in those initial months. George was shocked at the curt, almost rough way the sergeants spoke to the recruits. There were just not enough returning veterans to help at the local level, especially with the number of battalions that were currently mustering throughout Canada.
The most basic soldier skills were learned at Camp Edgar. Soldiers learned how to make a regulation army bed. Private Kirkham learned to fold his blanket in a certain way so that the dark stripe went straight across the pillow. The blanket needed to be tucked in just right. This was awfully important. Dire results would follow any deviation from the norm.
Rifle training was essential for the infantry soldier. Infantrymen were instructed to hold, march, clean and fire their Ross rifles and later the Lee Enfield Mark 3. The Ross rifle with its open breech had one main weakness. The firing mechanisms were susceptible to dirt and grit. Therefore, learning to strip and clean the rifle was essential training for every Canadian infantry soldier in World War 1. When not in battle, many men simply covered the firing mechanism with cloth or sock in an effort to keep out dirt which would clog up the rifle. The butt of the rifle had a space inside it where cleaning material could be kept. Cleaning a rifle would become an important skill when troops later lived in the mud and trenches on the Western Front.
With a muzzle velocity of 740 metres per second and accurate fire, the rifle could decimate an enemy attack over open ground. A soldier who trained with the Lee Enfield was expected to hit the target from a distance of up to 500 yards, but the range of the Enfield was good up to 2,500 yards. No one ever killed anyone at that range, but effective marksmen equipped with telescopic scope, could hit targets at 1,000 yards.
The improvised rifle range at Sundridge became a daily activity. George was instructed in the fundamentals of sighting, aiming, holding and firing the rifle. George learned to shoot with a sergeant howling abuse at them. “Gentlemen, when I see you handle your rifles, I feel like falling on my knees and thanking God that we’ve got a navy.”(anon.) For George and many other outdoorsmen in the battalion, handling and shooting a rifle were skills that came easy.
When George was first at the range for instruction he was required to shoot a “group” at 100 yards. In this practice he fired five shots without any marking. It was simply a test of his ability to sight, aim and hold the rifle properly. After completion the target was withdrawn and the officer in the pit proceeds to measure the group. For this aspect, no consideration was given to its location on the target, size of the grouping only counted. There was an official scale for rating the various sized groups within the limit of the maximum circle. The firing was all done from the prone position.
The army promoted competition and the rifle range saw shooting contests each week. George participated in rifle competitions between picked teams from the different companies.
A goal for George and the other recruits was to learn quick-fire techniques with their rifles. Canadian infantrymen practiced charger loading – driving down the single five round striper clip with one’s thumb into the rifle’s magazine, and ramming the action closed – and then firing.
Marksmanship was just one aspect of training with the rifle. Recruits learned about the bayonet. The bayonet was a comparatively simple weapon - a bracketed dagger attached to the end of a rifle barrel. Its primary function was to turn the rifle into a thrusting weapon, so its owner could attack the enemy without drawing too close.
The bayonet was employed in “Hun-sticking” exercises. Straw dummies were the victims, and soldiers got their blood up in mock battles. Each dummy had a white circular sticker on it where the bayonet was to penetrate. Some of the dummies were hung from ropes, some on the ground and some in trenches, with the stickers placed in position to show where the maximum effort inflicted the most incapacitating wounds. George learned that lunges to the head were to be avoided, as the bayonet might glance off the skull. Infantrymen were also warned that a bayonet through the shoulder blade would likely get stuck, and they would have to pull hard to extricate it from the bone. George and his mates were urged to aim for the abdomen, which would ensure that there would be no more ‘little Fritz’s.’
Bayonet charges were designed for psychological impact: men were trained to advance in rows, with faces contorted, lungs blaring and bayonets thrusting. Small arms and machine guns made these charges largely ineffective, but they were effective propaganda. When not employed as weapons, bayonets were detached as all-purpose tools, used for anything from digging to opening canned food.
Training also included seemingly endless parade drills. Soldiers learned to march and turn in unison to the commands being barked out by Non Commissioned Officers (NCO) and officers. Men performed parade drills by section, platoon, and company and through to the battalion level.
Then there were grueling route marches - miles and miles of forced marching with full packs to get the men into fighting shape. Each day would see the men of the 162nd on the roadways marching to nowhere and returning. These marches were done in rain or shine or, as was more likely, in snow and bitter cold north winds. The colonel would participate in the marches - on horseback.
. . . . Fort Niagara - Drill and Training . . . .
As the weather warmed, Defense Minister Hughes ordered battalions to muster at one of the five main training bases found throughout Canada. After their initial training at Camp Edgar, the 162nd Battalion was assigned for advanced training at Camp Niagara. When the 162nd left Sundridge on August 11th 1916, the ladies of the town gave a supper, or rather, filled the men with cakes and pies.
The battalion arrived at Union Station in Toronto on Friday, August 4, 1916. Private Kirkham and his buddies had the next day to explore the city. After all, this was the first time in a big city for many of the boys, George included. The Canadian National Exhibition was happening down at the grounds and the men took in the sights and rides. The following day they arrived in Niagara Falls. George and the McKellar boys played tourists and hopped on the trolley and visited the Falls.
The Parry Sound boys now began their formal training at Camp Niagara. The camp was located next to Niagara on the Lake near the present site of the National Historic Site Fort George. The camp contained a thousand-yard rifle range, combat training areas, and parade grounds.
Fort Niagara had been used to train soldiers since the late 1800s. Many of the Canadian soldiers that had been sent to the Boer War fifteen years earlier had come through Fort Niagara on their way to South Africa.
Fort Niagara expanded during the initial year of the war and was soon handling many of the units that eventually were to see duty in France. The camp was close to rail lines, and it had access to a large industrial area that provided many of the supplies that the Fort required on a monthly basis.
Two other battalions were there – the 169th from Toronto and the 215th from Brantford. There were also several artillery batteries. The various battalion slept in their own battalion areas in Nisson Bell tents that dotted the area.
The 162nd also included a brass band with a strength of 25 and bugle band that numbered 11. The bugle was much more than a musical instrument and was used in all camps and training exercises. At Fort Niagara, the bugle summoned the men to the parade grounds in the morning, called them for breakfast, lunch and supper, as well as to inspections. The highlight of any’s soldiers’s day was the bugle announcing mail call, with the prospect of letters and packages from home.The bugle was the last sound troops heard for Lights Out each night.
A typical day started with Reveille (a bugle or trumpet call to wake the soldiers and call them to duty) at 5:30 a.m. First chore for the day - make your bed. It was important to make you’re bed properly.
At 6:30 after tidying up and cleaning their quarters and having a brew, recruits would assemble on the parade ground for an hour and a half to work on their fitness. After breakfast at 8 am, the remainder of the morning was spent drilling on the parade square. Between 12:15 and 2 p.m. the men took lunch before returning for more training in the afternoon until 4:15.
After supper, the unlucky might be detailed to fatigues, work parties, or sentry duty. Some evenings were given over to night time exercises or one of the many lectures covering subjects from care and preservation of water, to avoidance of venereal diseases. During the off hours they would spend time polishing boots, buttons, and mess tins.
Men could also be found at one of several leisure facilities which included a billiard room, library, ball diamonds, playing fields and recreation rooms. George looked to spend off hours in the pubs and bars that sprang up next to any significant army presence in an area. These nearby pubs would be visited during day and weekend pass issued to men as training progressed.
Each day after breakfast, George and the men started by assembling on the parade ground for inspection by the officers. Men needed to report each day with a cleanly shaven face. On parade a soldier who had made an especially good job of shining buttons and buckles was told to take one step forward so others could see how it should be done. The officers taught the men to stand stiffly at attention, thumbs at the seams of their trousers, heels together and feet angled out at a forty-five degrees.
Whatever the syllabus, drill and marching predominated. NCO’s shouted orders, “Form fours! Right! By the right, quick march!” They learned to salute, to jerk their heads to right and left upon the orders of Eyes Right! and Eyes Left! All the recruits learned to hate squad drill.
The parade square was central to the camp. Drill was a “perfect embodiment of all the qualities of soldierly discipline,” claimed a 1918 training pamphlet. It went on to proclaim that “prompt and methodical obedience, skill at arms, confidence in commanders and pride in the unit to which the soldier belongs” made a soldier. More often the men remembered sweat, sore feet, aching limbs, and occasional pride when, sometimes, a thousand men moved as one. Stand at ease and stand easy. They learned to salute, to jerk their heads to right and left upon the orders of Eyes Right! and Eyes Left! All the recruits learned to hate squad drill.
Private Kirkham spent time learning to march because infantry in the 1914- 1918 war still generally moved on foot. Long before the war, staff officers had calculated the savings in road space when men marched in files of four. They invested considerable time “forming fours,’ moving from two rank to four. Troops numbered from the right, and on the command, men with even numbers took a pace back and to the right – agony for those unfortunates who had forgotten their numbers or could not distinguish right from left. Once in fours, columns of men marched, circling the parade square, or turned, halted and quick marched again as the sergeants gave commands.
Physical fitness was primarily achieved through the endless route marches. Key to survival in war, feet became hardened with the miles of marching and one soon became accustomed to the routine. The NCOs set the pace, 120 steps to the minute, which moved a column three miles in fifty minutes, (or 15 - 20 miles a day), with a ten minute rest every hour. Some predetermined route marches were 20 miles which proved exhausting on those hot, humid summer days in the Niagara area.
Marching at ease, the Parry Sound boys sang, whistled, and tried to forget the pain of sixty to eighty pounds of rifle and kit dug into their shoulders and the merciless ground pounding their aching feet at every step. At rest for ten minutes before the hour, George loosened his equipment and gratefully collapsed by the roadside, feet elevated above his head to drain away the pumping blood. Then, on the hour, troopers formed up again, switching places and sequence in the column, so all could share the dust and the wearisome accordion effect when new troops lost the pace and alternatively hurried and halted. Uncomfortable boots and tight puttees were sometimes the cause of men falling out of line.
When on a road, a column of Canadian soldiers is a compact tight group. Over time the men learned to keep “close up” at all times. There are no officers wandering around outside the column of fours. Officers and NCO’s simply slip in and fill up the blank files and form extra ranks at the head and tail of the battalion. It was an impressive sight to look forward or back and marvel at the appearance of a long, smooth column lead by the battalion band.
After the march, tradition dictated that the men 162nd present their bare, sweaty feet for the officers’ inspection. The subalterns, lieutenants who were directed to show solidarity with the men, poked at suspected blisters and withheld comments on the smell. Medical officer Major Porter and his medical staff would come by with their brushes and a bottle of iodine to relieve their suffering.
Route marches became a speciality of the battalion and there was great inter-company and inter-battalion rivalry as each unit strove to complete the march faster without losing any men along the way. This friendly rivalry was the basis of the battalion’s fine esprit de corp.
For George, training consisted of daily rifle practice, trench digging, bayonet practice, fieldcraft skills, learning how to store and pack all their equipment, and marching. Private Kirkham also needed to learn skills to kill.
One aspect of learning to kill involved the use of the grenades as a devastating close quarter weapon. They were becoming important infantry weapons in the tight confines of trench fighting. The best British grenade was the No.5 Mills egg shaped bomb. Introduced in March 1915, the Mills was to be manufactured in tremendous numbers before reaching a high-water mark of 800,000 per week in July 1916. The grenade was nothing less than a traveling shot gun, a hollow shell case, filled with iron balls and with a bursting charge in the base. Its metal exterior had serrated edges that allowed the grenade to be held in one hand while the other pulled the safety pin.
As the Mills left the hand, the lever flew off, setting the striker, which commenced a five second fuse leading to detonation. An exploding grenade could shower an area with dozens of whirling bits of fragmentation, although more often the grenade exploded in larger, uneven pieces that were fewer in number, but more deadly, when stopped with flesh. Any grenade that landed within three meters of an enemy would likely fill him with some metal. The British technique was to throw it with a straight arm like a cricket ball instead of the more familiar baseball throwing action more popular in Canada.
Basic infantry tactics involved more than simply shooting, throwing and stabbing. After mastering grenade use and other individual soldier skills, George would participate in battle drills. Initially, this would mean section drills, followed by platoon, company and finally battalion with combined arms battle training.
To advance on the battlefield, the infantry were instructed to move in short bounds of twenty yards and then go to ground. Once there, and behind some sort of cover, a section of a dozen men would build up a weight of fire to allow another section to advance. Attack procedures would be practiced at the platoon level and then there would be company sized mock attacks.
Private Kirkham learned to understand voice commands over the roar of the battlefield. It was important to follow the commands of the officers in charge of the various army components to know when to shoot and when to advance. The machine guns during the war tore terrible holes into attacking formations, but troops overcame them if enough soldiers advanced, firing and moving as they went. In addition, the infantryman learned to work with the artillery batteries that were the most important elements on the WW1 battlefield.
Close by at Fort Mississauga you can still see traces of a line of trenches dug to simulate those of the Western Front. Much of the training centered on them, as the Great War was largely a trench war. Men who had served at the front were the soldiers in charge of this aspect of training. Learning to survive in trenches was an important skill.
The boys learned to dig trenches as part of their training. An officer took them to an area where a sample section of trench had been prepared. He explained the meaning of the terms. “Traverse”, “Bay”, “Firestep”, “Parapet”, and “Parados”. He showed how trenches were marked out on the ground; how the first process was to dig to gain quick cover, the second to provide a firestep and arm rests, and the third to furnish communication behind the firestep. After the explanation, tasks were duly allotted and all ranks proceeded to practice “digging in”. Attacking and holding trenches were also taught. This required the men to learn assault skills, and this is where their bayonet and grenade skills became practical.
Following is an excerpt from a letter, dated September 28, 1916, that John McFie wrote to one of his sisters: “They are giving it to us pretty hard now, the colonel says we are going overseas pretty soon and we have got to work a little extra, he says we may have to work on Sundays too. We went into the trenches last night about 9 o’clock and came out about 11 o’clock today and we are going on a route march sometime early in the morning….”
Defense Minister Hughs insisted that “his boys” were fully trained when they reached England; therefore, some of the men spent weeks at specialized courses in signaling, bombing, and studying machine-guns. Lacking direct experience with some equipment actually used on the front, instructors managed as best they could with scraps of information from the trenches mixed with antiquated drill.
George’s training went on daily no matter what the weather; the troops needed to be hardened. There was a lot to learn and this knowledge needed to be drilled into the soldiers if they were to survive the trenches. The soldiers, like anyone with no experience in actually fighting in battle, didn't really pay too much attention to these tales. That was a reality that was to sink in later.
. . . . A Soldier’s Kit . . . .
Further preparation for the soldier included familiarity with uniforms and basic equipment. This personal gear was to be all George’s worldly belongings for the next three years. The average kit weighted about sixty pounds, though in winter the norm was about seventy-seven pounds. It was a well-known fact that the optimum equipment weight for a man was one third of his own weight. On average, a Canadian recruit weighted 132 pounds and as a result was therefore consistently grossly overloaded.
The uniform for George included a peaked cap with a bronzed maple leaf cap badge. He wore a tight-fitting khaki serge and tunic, with a stiff collar and seven brass buttons, which the men considered superior to the British five-button version. Underneath the tunic, a collarless grey flannel shirt referred to as a “greyback” helped to soak up sweat. Khaki trousers, worn high to the belly button, and held in place by suspenders, covered the lower torso.
Heavy woolen socks were supplied in abundance by the various women organizations in Canada. Woolen sock feet went into the hobnailed brown British boots which each weighed about five pounds. In the Canadian Army these boots were not of particularly good quality. If they did not fit a man he was doomed to endless agonies because the leather uppers had no stretch to them - that is, of course, if the boots did not disintegrate first. Later in 1916 George was issued boots with the sixteen inch tops.
The uniform was patterned after the British soldier’s uniform. Since British soldiers had served in inhospitable places where rocks and insects had to be kept out of footwear, puttees were worn. So it was that George also wore puttees which were long woolen strips bound around the ankle and up the calf, almost to the knee.
The outer layer was the greatcoat which offered George some warmth and often doubled as a blanket or a pillow. His greatcoat could weigh an additional 60 pounds when wet and muddy. He also had a “cap comforter” that resembled a toque and could be rolled down over the face, with a hole for the eyes and nose. Two rough blankets for bedding always had to be supplemented by additional clothing in the winter months.
Razors and shaving brushes were issued to keep the soldiers looking clean. Tooth, hair, and boot brushes allowed for the upkeep of appearances. Other tools, like a rifle oil bottle and pull through - a weighted cord that was pulled through the rifle barrel to clean it, as well as a bayonet and scabbard, were all part of the soldier’s kit. The British helmet, the Brodie, was introduced in February 1916, though at first it was issued only to snipers. A mess tin and water bottle were essential for George who would live the next several years like a homeless person.
The Oliver harness, which a British army surgeon in Halifax had persuaded Ottawa to adopt in the 1890’s, was a means of carrying ammunition, food, water and clothing while on the move and marching. This was the same harness used in the South African Boar War of the early 1900’s. It had not been very effective. While it was holding the men’s equipment it tended to rise up and choke the marching soldier. It arrived as a mysterious tangle of leather straps, pouches, and packs. This was a fearful and wonderful arrangement of straps and buckles. There was a place for everything with many pouches and places to put kit. The ammunition pouch, worn over the stomach, guaranteed that its wearer would not crawl into battle.
When George arrived in England his Oliver webbing was replaced with a 1908 Patent for service in France. This harness was more satisfactory in every respect to the Oliver. The shoulder straps were broad and comfortable to the body; the pack was large enough to carry all necessary clothing and the haversack easily held all the little personal items as well as a couple of days rations. The ammunition pockets were all at the front. This not only made them easier to get at but served to balance the weight of the pack on the back. The water bottle, holding a full quart was carried on the right hip and the bayonet on the left, with the haversack just behind it. The entrenching tool was carried in the middle of the back when going into action. The pack was detached almost instantly, and if there was plenty of time, the haversack could quickly be swung into its place. A gas mask respirator was added and carried or worn in a bag on the chest to be easily accessed. George was never more than an arm’s length from this necessary piece of equipment.
The Canadian service man was issued a paybook, in which was recorded the date of enlistment and, following that entries showing when he was promoted to another grade. Subsequently pages were used by the paymaster. A soldier could go to any field paymaster and, upon showing his book, receive whatever money he needed - within the limits of his credit, which was always shown in the book. Photographs of mothers, fathers, sweethearts and children were stuffed into the paybooks, and of course, their last will and testament.
Veteran soldiers showed the novices how to polish their boots and brass buttons and how to roll their puttees so they did not collapse around the ankles as an inspecting officer approached. Tailor shops that sprang up around the edge of the camp did excellent business fitting uniforms. In his fresh uniform George did his best to look like a proper soldier.
From the steel helmet tilted on Private Kirkham’s head, to his boots and trousers, joined by the war’s signature puttees, everything he owned had to be worn or carried. George was ready for war or so he thought.
. . . . To War . . . .
The training and other preparations at Camp Niagara took just three months. As late October arrived, George began to hear rumours that their time in Canada was quickly coming to an end. There first confirmation of the rumours came with a visit to the Medical Officer. Only men about to be assigned overseas duty received their needles. Before the shot, men were expected to abstain from alcohol.
The men were marched to the Medical Centre. Once there, the left arm was bared and iodine dubbed on by an orderly. The doctor gripped their skin and then jabbed in the needle. The doctor injected anti-typhoid and tetanus serum at the rate of ninety an hour. One or two fainted, another was sick. After the inoculations the men were put on the sick list for 48 hours.
The men knew it was getting close to leave for the French battlefields when the last battalion inspection in Canada was announced. Colonel Arthurs made sure that the officers had the men properly turned out. George faced this last inspection with fear as each of the soldiers feeling that the whole future depended on the efficiency of the battalion and that disaster would follow a single mistake. The battalion lined up on the shores of Lake Ontario, facing the expansive lawn in front of the base headquarters. The inspecting General formed up his staff at the far end of the lawn and marched forward in the lead, filling the minds of the troops with something akin to awe. It was a spectacular ceremony. The General halted thirty paces from George while the band struck up the “General Salute” and presented arms. After inspecting the ranks the battalion formed into a hollow square as the General addressed a few words to the “boys”.
During their training time at Camp Niagara, the men had several opportunities for leave allowing them to see the local sights. Additionally, George and the others that had farms were granted harvest leave. This time included one week leaves in August and again in October. George arrived back at the farm that October just as the early snows arrived. Private Kirkham looked a proper soldier to his parents and siblings when he returned to the homestead in his pressed and tailored soldier’s uniform. It was with heavy heart that George left the farm and said goodbye to his family for what could have been the last time in October of 1916.
After the October leave the Parry Sound North Star reported that ninety-three members of the 162nd had failed to return from embarkment leave, “to the eternal disgrace of Parry Sound as a district.” The majority were not Parry Sounders, the report hastened to add, but transient loggers who likely now had returned to the refuge of the woods.
This incident highlights a concern that many senior British Officers had about the Canadians. Canadian troops brought with them a rugged independence, and a healthy disrespect for authority which threw tradition aside. To the British (referred to by Canadians as Imperials) leadership steeped in tradition and privileged rank, Canadians were seen as undisciplined.
Soldiers of the First Contingent especially were noted for pushing the boundaries of proper military behavior, calling officers by their first names or refusing to salute. Their carefully self-cultivated reputation for restlessness, brawling, and indifference to military etiquette continued throughout the war. The Canadians resented being mistaken for other imperials. They responded to “Canada,” “Canuck,” or just “Tommy” when addressed as such by Allied troops or civilians. While the Canadians wore similar uniforms and carried similar weapons as British troops, they sported unique unit cap badges and shoulder bars that read “CANADA.”
By 1917, senior commanders, including Sir Douglas Haig, recognized the Canadians as an effective military force. Three years of fighting in the trenches, had shaped these qualities into an army that was to be respected by all combatants on the Western Front. Allied commanders soon came considered the Canadians shock troops and, as such, an elite fighting force.