1914-10-13gg

By early October, 1914, the scale, savagery and slaughter of the war in Europe was becoming well-known in Hamilton.

On October 10, 1914, the Hamilton Spectator printed the following poem, titled Retribution :

 

The mills of the gods grind slowly along,

  While the horrors of war proceed,

And the ruthless troops of a tyrant, strong,

  Cause the innocent ones to bleed.

 

Slowly but surely the wheels move around

  A terrible justice to bring:

Though scant be the news from the battle-ground

  Retribution is on the wing.

 

Shall the ‘mailed fist’ with its wanton lust,

  The rights of all others defile:

And our freedoms be trampled in the dust

  By a murderous dynasty?

 

The British and the French and the Belgian dead

  With their blood have the issue scaled;

The flag of freedom must float overhead

  And the reign of oppression  must yield.

 

From the crimsoned ground and desolate homes

  Of fair Belgium’s wasted domain,

The appeal for a righteous vengeance comes;

  In justice, remember Louvain!

 

The allies are bravely holding their ground

  And forcing the enemy back,

While the Russians are marching Berlin-bound

  The capital city to sack.

 

Let the Germans dread the slow, steady tread

  Of the Russians as on they move;

For the cruel bite of the Muscovite

  With a just retribution prove.

 

With the Russian hosts and allies combined

  The foe will soon have to contend:

And swiftly flee if retreat they can find

  Their own fatherland to defend.

 

Should the war tide turn, the Cossacks may burn

  And pillage and plunder and loot,

They’ll grasp at the chance to handle the lance,

  Retribution is surely afoot.

 

The war will go on till freedom is won,

  Regardless of what it may cost,

Till Wilhelm is hushed and his armies crushed

  And the throne with its crown is lost.

 

-      Fritz Hermats,

Hamilton, Ont.¹

¹ “Retribution”

Hamilton Spectator. October 10, 1914.

 

Three days later, the Spectator printed a letter which gave an eyewitness account of what it was like at the front.

While most Canadian volunteers were still in training, and had yet to see any fighting, Clarence Cockburn was a Hamiltonian who had been part of war engagements with the German army.

Clarence Cockburn, was the son of Dr. L. W. and Mrs. Cockburn of Hamilton. After graduating for the Royal Military College in Kingston, he had taken a commission in the British army, and had been sent to western Europe, serving with number one company of the fourth divisional train of the Army service corps.

Clarence’s letter home was taken to the office of the Spectator so that it could be copied and its contents shared with the readers of the Great Family Journal:

                                                Expeditionary Force, September 21, 1914.

Dear Mother :

I am now able to write a few lines during a check in operations. We have been chasing Germans up to a week ago, and we are now engaged in severe struggle with them, which has lasted all week.

They have taken up a very strong position and we are now holding them in check, while the French are trying to outflank them.

The German losses are enormous, and so far the war has shown that the German infantry is hopelessly outclassed by the Britisher when in equal numbers. Their artillery and cavalry are good and they are splendid tacticians.

When on the move we have no difficulty in capturing parties of Chians who attack the convoys from the woods. They surrender at sight and seem to be glad to be taken prisoners. If they are driven out of this position, it will be a great deal toward their defeat, as their only possible exits will be either surrender or the Fatherland.

I have no doubt you already know of the famous retreat of the British army from the frontier to Paris in order to draw the Germans in.It was a most brilliant affair and will go down in history as a great military feat. We were faced by 500,00 men and yet we were rushed to the frontier by train, attacked the Germans, delayed their advance and retired from position to position toward Paris, thus allowing the French time to come up on the flanks. We lost heavily in one place, where the French failed to turn up as ordered. The French general was court-martialed and shot.

We are billeted in a big farm here about three miles from the German firing line. We are very comfortable and consider it a luxury to sleep indoors.

During the retreat we were exhausted by the end of the day. We were covering 30 miles a day, travelling all night. For four nights running I got only about three hours sleep, was often sound asleep on my horse, which wandered along with the column.

The Germans shelled our position and absolutely wiped out a battery of horse artillery and a squadron of cavalry.

 There is nothing more demoralizing than being under shrapnel fire. The other days I was motoring near the German position. They were shelling the road. Shells were bursting on either side of the road and any moment we expected to be blown to atoms. The noise was deafening. However we got through O. K.

Three days ago, I was on duty at some cross roads, not far from the firing line, to direct a column of motor to the right road. I was armed with a rifle and revolver but had no food. I was there all night and most of the next morning, the authorities having forgotten to relieve me. At the time it was pouring rain and rather cold.

Finally I saw a motor car approaching, and it proved to be one of our own. After a rather roundabout journey, I reached the farm. I had already been put down as missing, and might have been published as such.

During the German retreat the scene as we followed along  was in some cases appalling. The road on either side was strewn with dead horses, which had been lying in the sun for days; debris, clothing, smashed wagons, abandoned guns, and in one place we passed a smashed German aeoroplane.

Most of the dead have been hurled along the roadside, but in one place two or three bodies were lying in a heap with a top of straw and debris. The stench caused by the rotting of the horses in the sun was indescribable.

If the Germans retreat again, we will have to pass through the same sort of thing. Each village we passed through showed signs of German violence – houses found locked were burst open, the inhabitants either shot or kicked out and the interior of the house destroyed. In many cases, the furniture, clothing, etc. was all torn into pieces and thrown out of the windows onto the street.

We pass hundreds of refugees on the road who have been driven from their homes. Women and children in many cases being forced to walk miles in the pouring rain without food or shelter.

We are told that the Canadian force is now in England. I shall see --- when they arrive in France.

I am in the best of health, and am looking forward to the end of this awful business. At present, I am in temporary command of the headquarters company, 4^th divisional train, 175 men and 150 horses. I cannot say where we are, but if you take a map of France, we are about 60 or 75 miles from Paris – northeasterly

With best love,

your affectionate son.

                             CLARENCE COCKBURN²

² “Hamilton Man Tells of Awful Scenes at War : Clarence Cockburn in Midst of Fighting.”

Hamilton Spectator. October 13, 1914