By Vincent J. Curtis
Thoughts of winter puts one in mind of cold, dark, and wet. You know, World War I kind of miserable. In respect of misery, the recollection of others is better than personal experience. With Remembrance Day and the centenary of the Great War in mind, I got hold of a newly released history of a battalion of the Canadian Expeditionary Force (CEF) of World War I. It Can’t Last Forever is a history of the 19th Battalion, written by David Campbell, a professor of history who received his doctorate for his history of the 2nd Division of the Canadian Corps, of which the 19th was a part.
We remember the Canadian Corps of World War I for the mud of Passchendaele and for the brilliant victory at Vimy Ridge. Perhaps we dimly recall the Hundred Days campaign at the end; but when we think of World War I, we think of the mud of Flanders.
This is unfortunate. In doing so, we miss what the Canadian Corps developed into by the end, in virtue of Canadian talent and innovation. When we think of the Somme, we think of tens of thousands dying for hundreds of yards, while Vimy saw a dramatic gain of 4,500 yards in a morning.
What we might want to reflect upon is that relentless Canadian machine of the Hundred Days campaign — that drove the enemy before it at rates of 6,000 and 7,000 yards a day — using techniques that foreshadowed World War II.
Military theorists date the beginning of manoeuvre warfare with the German infiltration (or “Hutier”) tactics used in the Operation MICHAEL offensives that began on March 21, 1918. But the technique thought of today as manoeuvre warfare — blitzkrieg — with its coordinated application of ground strafing aircraft, tanks, advancing infantry, and supporting artillery, was first used against the Germans in the Hundred Day campaign. By the Canadians.
Yes, the aircraft of WWI were more of a nuisance than a force multiplier, and the tanks never could be relied upon. But they were there, and impressed the Germans.
By 1918, a platoon in a Canadian Corps battalion was organized into two sections of riflemen, one section of Lewis gunners, and one section of “bombers.” The bombers were those expert in throwing Mills bombs (which later became the 36 grenade) and in firing rifle grenades (predecessor of the 60-mm mortar). This latter section, supported or augmented by the Lewis gunners, took out the machine-gun nests that formed one of the principle features of the German defence. They coordinated fire and movement with the infantry sections to overcome pockets of resistance. By the end of the Hundred Days, tanks had become mechanically reliable enough to provide, at times, armoured cover for advancing infantry, and to destroy wire and some of those nasty machine-gun nests.
With its creeping and standing barrages, the artillery fire of a thousand guns became a science. Lacking wireless radios, detailed control was exerted by field telephone, whose wires were easily broken, and with signal rockets that called for protective fire. Artillery fire was supplemented by the Canadian Machine Gun Corps, equipped with armoured cars and Vickers heavy machine guns for neutralizing an area with indirect fire plunging vertically into trenches.
Trenches during this time were still dug; but with movement as large and as fast as occurred during the Hundred Days, field defences were quick and expedient and lacked the sophisticated depth of the Somme or the Hindenburg Line. By keeping up the pressure, the break in was not the bloodbath it was at the Somme.
During a forward thrust, Allied forces pushed as far as their artillery support could reach, and then tended to stall as German artillery began to dominate the field. Once the Allied guns were moved up, increasingly by mechanical transport, forward movement by the infantry would resume.
A striking feature of the Canadian Corps was as a learning institution. Starting with Arthur Currie, commander of 1st Division, and later Corps Commander, and British General Julien Byng, the Canadian leadership strove to learn, disseminate, and apply the lessons of war being fought around them. When not in immediate reserve, Canadian troops practiced their individual and collective skills. Every infanteer practiced his marksmanship, his use of the bayonet, throwing Mills bombs and shooting rifle grenades. He practiced with the Lewis gun, even if that wasn’t his formal job.
After polishing individual skills, section, platoon, and company tactics were practiced. The men were kept physically fit by long marches and sporting events. By the Hundred Days, it was understood that each man had to be able to fill in for someone else. The losses among platoon commanders was the highest proportionately of any rank, and so being able to take command of the platoon in battle was a secondary skill developed in the subordinate leaders.
The Canadian emphasis on patrolling emerged in the Canadian Corps early in the war. “No man’s land belongs to us” was one resolution of the Corps, and trench raids were a common feature of the war years, both as a means of protection and as a means of gathering intelligence. Sniping was another skill applied with vigour in the Corps. The procedure of “relief in place” was perfected in World War I. By the Hundred Days, the Canadian Corps were past masters of phase lines, passing through, and vertical and horizontal coordination.
Much bad has been written about the leadership of Sam Hughes, Minister of Militia. He had little use for British generals and for the alleged expertise of the regulars. He relied upon the genius of Canada’s civilian professionals to mobilize and to mould the CEF. He ensured that Canadians fought together in one recognized unit with an eye towards the recognition of Canada after the war as a power independent of Britain. The brilliant performance of the Canadian Corps at Vimy and the power the Corps demonstrated during the Hundred Days fulfilled that vision.