by Mark Zuehlke
The day the Reichstag finally determined that Germany could not win, the 1st Canadian Division had left the rest of Canadian Corps facing Cambrai and withdrawn to a rest position west of the Canal du Nord. The Canadian Scottish knew nothing of the larger picture around them. They saw only their battalion’s dire condition. “The future is anything but certain, and the days of yore belong to another world;” one soldier wrote, “a world we feel we will never see again. All is dead but hope, so who should worry? I think we shall end our days here, from what we have gone through. I can’t see any daylight as to when this damn war will end.” But he did not regret marching to war in the summer of 1914. “I did the right thing … whether the war was wrong or not does not alter that fact.”3
Death seemed inescapable. The fate in past weeks of so many veterans proved that. There was the case of twenty-nine-year-old Sgt. Mathew Barrett. An Irishman who had enlisted in Winnipeg and joined the battalion in December 1914, he had been wounded on May 10, 1915, and again in the Ypres Salient on April 4, 1916. This tough, courageous survivor died on August 8 during the opening phase of the Amiens Battle.4
The same day Barrett was cut down, Pte. Robert Murdoch had been blessed with a “Blighty.” Entering the ranks on March 20, 1917, he had been wounded that September and again in November. At Amiens he scored passage home with a wound so severe he was invalided to England and then to Canada.5
Physically debilitating wounds were seen as the only road to survival. And many a man envied Murdoch and also Pte. George Nairn this escape. Nairn had been taken on strength March 2, 1916, wounded twice within months, and again on April 28, 1917. Each time the wound was too minor to earn more than a brief hospitalization, but on September 2, 1918, when the Canadian Scottish carried the Drocourt-Quéant Line, Nairn was hit hard and was now convalescing in England with a homeward ticket assured once his health was sufficiently improved.6
RSM James Kay, the tough veteran who had come to the battalion as the Cameron Highlander company sergeant major, was considered one of the rocks upon which the foundation of the Canadian Scottish was built. The twenty-eight-year-old had distinguished himself as “a splendid battle leader, cool and clear-headed.” At 2nd Battle of Ypres he had gathered in 150 men from a hodgepodge of battalions, kept them in the fight, and been awarded the Distinguished Conduct Medal. The Military Medal followed. Only in February 1918 had Kay reluctantly left the battalion for a three-month leave that was part of a program ensuring all married men who had deployed with 1st Division in 1914 a brief return to Canada. Everyone was happy to see Kay, who had been showing clear signs of extreme exhaustion, sent home and the general sentiment was that he should remain with his family in Winnipeg. But on August 21, just five days before the great Battle of Arras, Kay had reported for duty—having shrugged off offers from the staff at the regimental headquarters in Winnipeg of postings that would keep him at home. His worth in combat was quickly proven on October 1 in the fight for Cuvillers that resulted in a Military Cross recommendation. But Kay’s colour was visibly poor, his face an ashen grey. It looked as if the respite had done him little good.7
Then there was Lt.-Col. Cyrus Peck. The battalion commander had been ordered to his bed by the medical officer on the evening of October 3. There he remained for six days before insisting on returning to duty only to be evacuated to hospital the following day. Major James Scroggie became the Canadian Scottish acting commander.8 It was feared that Peck would not return. Scroggie was popular, but he could not fill Peck’s shoes. The rotund battalion commander might never look the part of a soldier, but his fearlessness in action and his obvious concern for the well-being of the old originals in particular was recognized by everyone. “The poor skipper,” one soldier wrote, “he hates like hell to see the old fellows go.” While the men knew that Peck would put them in harm’s way as needed, they trusted him to know when it was needed.9
Consequently the Canadian Scottish were in an uneasy state of mind and spirit when they returned to the battle lines in early October and manned a front close to Douai that extended from the south bank of the Scarpe River at Biache St. Vaast to the south of the Sensée River at Etaing. 1st Division was the first unit in Canadian Corps to deploy here as part of a relief of XXII Corps completed on the evening of October 11.
For the few days it took for the rest of Canadian Corps to arrive, the 1st Division faced Trinquis Brook—which meandered across the breadth of the valley between the Scarpe and Sensée rivers to join the latter watercourse—and attempted to gain the village of Sailly-en-Ostrevent. On October 8, 3rd Canadian Infantry Brigade’s Royal Highlanders carried out a “Chinese Attack.” This consisted of undertaking conspicuous pre-attack preparations that ended with a rolling barrage from the Canadian outpost line toward the German positions. Such demonstrations were intended to deceive the Germans into reacting as they would to a full assault in the targeted sector, so valuable intelligence could be gained.10 Such was the lack of response, divisional command ordered strong patrols to test rumours that the enemy was withdrawing from the Drocourt-Quéant Switch Line, a major defensive work behind Trinquis Brook that was an offshoot to the north of the main Drocourt-Quéant Line broken by Canadian Corps in early September.11
In the darkest hours of morning on October 10, the Royal Highlanders aggressively probed Sailly-en-Ostrevent and easily secured the village. Encouraged, the troops advanced into D-Q Switch and captured one officer and forty-seven men before hastily withdrawing to their start line to escape a strong counterattack. The Canadian Scottish took over from the Royal Highlanders that evening with orders to mount a full-scale assault intended to gain not only the D-Q Switch but the high ground just beyond—a total advance of 4,000 yards. The 48th Highlanders would advance on the left toward Virty-en-Artois, while the Canadian Scottish seized Sailly-en-Ostrevent and then swung through the Q-L Switch in a northwesterly push to gain the village of Noyelle. At the same time 2nd Brigade would cross the Sensée River right of the Canadian Scottish, extending the entire attack’s frontage to 12,000 yards.
After Cuvillers, Scroggie was worried about getting too far ahead of the units on his flanks, so ordered the advance carried out in phased steps. Phase one sent No. 4 Company—now commanded by Lt. Robert Kerans—to secure Sailly. The only resistance being light machine-gun fire from the Q-L Switch, Kerans completed the task without a single casualty.
Scroggie kicked off phase two by having Major John Hope’s No. 3 Company break into the Q-L Switch fortifications. Worried that passing through the village would slow his men down, Hope passed two platoons on either side of it. Then the company “regained touch … and advanced in two lines of sections with scouts ahead. They entered the [Q-L Switch] with no resistance other than light M.G. fire from the high ground beyond,” Scroggie wrote afterward.
Assuming these gunners to be the same who had fired earlier from the Q-L Switch, Scroggie decided they were on the run and rushed Captain James Wallis’s No. 2 Company forward to widen the battalion hold. As the company took up inside the Q-L Switch on Hope’s left, about a dozen Germans in an outpost position began sniping at it from the rear. A Lewis gunner spun about and raked their position, scattering the Germans into several shell-holes. A section of men sent against them by Wallis soon brought the Germans back with their hands raised.
Q-L Switch firmly in hand, Scroggie headed for Noyelle with Nos. 2 and 3 Companies leading. The 48th Highlanders matched their pace to the left, and the right flank was protected by ground the Germans had earlier flooded. On the other side of the boggy ground, 2nd Brigade battalions could be seen moving alongside the Sensée River and closing on its intersection with the Trinquis Brook. Scattered shots from a few Germans was the only opposition the Canadian Scottish met and these enemies were quickly convinced to surrender when a section of the 3rd Trench Mortar Battery dropped a few bombs in their vicinity. At 1800 hours, the battalion stopped for the night under the open sky about 600 yards beyond their original objective of Noyelle. The casualty
toll for a day in which the battalion had advanced almost 5,000 yards amounted to just one man killed and two wounded. The fact that only eighteen prisoners had been taken and no German dead discovered told intelligence officers that the enemy might be in full flight.12
A major corps advance was teed up for dawn that put three divisions on the move. 1st Division was on the left, the 56th British Division (placed temporarily under Currie’s command) in the centre, and 2nd Division to the right.13 The goal for 1st Division was to force the Germans off all the ground north of the Sensée River and west of Canal de la Sensée. There was no resistance at all until the Canadian Scottish were but 300 yards from the canal and drew heavy and accurate machine-gun fire from the other side. The leading companies took cover, reporting back that the fire came from Ferin. This little hamlet stood on high ground dominating the canal’s opposite bank. Major Scroggie told his men to lay low while he worked Ferin over with artillery. A few well-placed shells slackened the German rate of fire but, lacking bridging material, the Can Scots found the canal impossible to cross. At nightfall, 3 rd Brigade was relieved by 1st Canadian Infantry Brigade and went into divisional reserve at the village of Eterpigny. In the day’s fighting the entire brigade had incurred only twelve casualties, with no fatalities.14
The troops were elated. They had driven the Germans back more than five miles in two days with hardly any fighting required. Rumours swirled that the enemy was on the run all over. The rumour mill had sworn this to be the case many times before, of course, but this time there seemed a grain of truth to it because of the badly demoralized state of those prisoners the battalion had taken. The Germans also reported that, far behind the front, stores were being removed or destroyed and bridges, railways, and roads readied for demolition.15
As the 3rd Brigade went into reserve, the 56th British Division erected a floating bridge over the Sensée Canal during the night and established a toehold on the north bank only to abandon it later in the day when a German counterattack appeared to be mustering. On October 14, the 1st Division manned the bridge with patrols, but these pulled back when counterattacked. Lt.-Gen. Arthur Currie ordered a pause to organize a proper attack. Each day, as the preparations were underway, the canal’s north bank was subjected to test barrages and aggressive patrols to test enemy strength. Meanwhile, 4th Division replaced the British 56th Division in the corps centre. The front, anchored by the three forward divisions, was unusually wide—about 20 miles. At dawn on October 17, Major General Archie Macdonell advised Currie that the canal opposite his front seemed suspiciously quiet. Several patrols crossed and encountered only light resistance. Macdonell dispatched larger fighting patrols and these soon reported good progress. But 4th Division’s attempts to force a crossing were all repelled by heavy machine-gun fire. Wanting to get this division on line for any advance beyond the canal, Currie had its 87th Battalion use the crossings gained by 1st Division and then fight its way along the canal to clear the Germans off their division’s frontage. By late afternoon, 4th Division began advancing troops beyond the canal while to the right 2nd Division was also over and on the move. Resistance consisted of only “enemy rearguards … and the opposition was nowhere heavy,” Currie reported.16
With the enemy in full retreat Currie requested reinforcement by mobile units in the form of a squadron of the Canadian Light Horse, a company of the Canadian Cyclist Battalion, two medium machine-gun batteries, and two armoured cars for attachment to each of the 1st and 4th Divisions. At 0600 hours the morning of October 18, a pursuit began in earnest.
The advance carried the Canadians into the heart of a large industrial area choked with towns that had to be secured. In Pecquencourt, the troops were met by about 2,000 civilians, who said the Germans had left them behind rather than forcing them to precede their retreat. But not a scrap of food or other supplies had been provided. With only one bridge across the canal capable of carrying horse transport, Currie was challenged with not only keeping his advancing troops supplied but also seeing to the needs of a desperate civilian population.17
That night 3rd Brigade was billeted around the village of Ecaillon, but on the move early and by 0700 hours had passed through 2nd Brigade and was advancing with orders to go as far as possible. A low, dense fog affected visibility as the Canadian Scottish’s No. 1 Company on the right and No. 4 Company to the left started off. The Royal Montreal Regiment was to their left and a 1st Brigade battalion the right. By mid-day the fog lifted and the Canadian Scottish were amazed to see no signs of fighting anywhere around them.18
Across the entire corps front the Germans were in full flight. Cryus Peck, who had returned to the battalion from hospital on October 15, scrawled in his diary: “Remarkable day.”19 Truly it was, for the battalion advanced seven miles, finally pausing for the night a mile-and-a-half beyond the town of Hornaing. Peck wrote:
When we reached a town, we deployed and swept through and around it. I gave Major Scroggie immediate charge of the Battalion and reserved a roving commission for myself.
The country was nearly level.… I rode into the town we occupied—sometimes alone, sometimes with my groom. The people seemed stunned. For four years they had been under the heel of the enemy who had left that morning, and the spell still seemed to be upon them. I rode across our fronts ahead of the scouts to the road that leads to Bruille les Marchiennes. A man had come down the road and was shouting loudly at somebody. I don’t remember seeing any of the inhabitants except this man. The Germans had left them with terrible threats, and they seemed cowed and uncertain until we were actually among them…
In one of the towns I entered I saw the inhabitants coming out of a house bringing with them six or seven German military police who had overslept themselves. The police were being savagely menaced by the population, and I had to take them under my protection and hand them over to the leading troops of my Battalion when they arrived. These were the only prisoners we captured that day.
The German engineers carried out the work of demolition with consummate skill. Huge craters were to be seen at cross roads and railway crossings. The entire railway had been rendered useless [the Douai-Valenciennes railway]—a stick of dynamite had been placed under each alternate rail end, which on being blown up had rendered the rails useless.
I don’t know whether the presentations of flowers started here or farther on, but by the time we got to Erre my groom and myself had to discharge our floral load of huge bouquets, only to be loaded up again at a later stage. Wines and liqueurs were hastily dug up from gardens at short notice and insistently pressed upon us.
The first large town we came to was Somain. I believe it normally has a population of about four thousand. I rode in [with a guard of six men] and halted before a huge crowd. One man seized the hem of my dirty trench coat and kissed it passionately. I shouted ‘Vive la France!’ The people shouted back and went wild with enthusiasm.… I felt quite imposing as the liberator of Somain.
Peck’s triumphal liberation ride continued for the duration of the day. Only once were any German forces seen—five Uhlan cavalry armed with lances outside Escaudain—“retiring over the ridge in front. As they reached the summit, they turned around and I could see their lances against the sky-line. I rode rapidly toward them for a space, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and holding the reins and my revolver in the other.”
Entering Hornaing, he was greeted by another large crowd. Seeing the uncertain looks on their faces, Peck shouted, “Vive la France!” Nearby a street sign nailed to a wall read: Kaiser Wilhelm Strasse. Peck “rode up to it, tore it off, spat on it and hurled it to the ground, exclaiming, in what I thought to be French, ‘To hell with the Germans!’ This produced the desired result and the crowd went wild with enthusiasm.
“The Battalion arrived shortly afterwards and I took up my headquarters with the transport on the road north of Helesmes, near the railway. Thus passed my most enjoyable day in the War; bloodless withal, but most moving, witnessing the unbounding joy of a
delivered people.”20
Fog and drizzling rain greeted the marching troops on October 20. At 0900 the 48th Highlanders passed through the Canadian Scottish and the two battalions advanced in column toward the St. Amand-Raismes road. Whereas the day before the Germans had been on the run, now they began to offer ever-stiffening resistance that slowed the rate of advance. In the distance, explosions could be heard, indicating engineers were busy with their demolitions and that the German infantry was buying them time to complete their work. Despite the resistance, the Canadians still gained over a mile of ground and the Canadian Scottish suffered no casualties.
The following morning, the Royal Highlanders and 48th Highlanders led the way onto the St. Amand-Raismes road where they met the Royal Montreal Regiment and Canadian Scottish and leapfrogged to the front. The new objective was the Valenciennes-St. Amand road, which cut through the Forêt de Vicoigne. Entering the woods on several narrow tracks at 1100 hours, the Canadian Scottish became entangled in a running fight with withdrawing Germans that dragged into the afternoon. About 1600 hours the leading troops reached a large clearing and saw behind it the village of Vicoigne, which consisted of two straggling rows of houses. The road that was their objective ran between the buildings. From the forest to the road, the ground was wide open for 500 yards. Nos. 3 and 4 Companies slipped out of the trees into the cover of a deep ditch. From inside the village, machine guns opened fire. Peck considered the rate of fire light and decided the Germans were not holding in strength. Night was falling. Peck saw no need to hurry men into an open field still washed by sun.
