1914-11-26kl

Christmas day was less than a month away, Hamilton’s downtown department stores were fully prepared for the then-arrived Christmas shopping season and one Hamilton organization had completed its gift purchases and were about to send them off – to Hamilton soldiers across the ocean.

As it was explained in the Spectator, “not one of the Hamilton soldier boys at Salisbury plain will be forgotten by Santa Claus the coming Christmas time, even though they are so far from home and loved ones. “¹

¹ “Xmas Gifts For Fighting Boys : Daughters of Empire Forward Gifts Today”

Hamilton Spectator.  November 26, 1914.

It was the Municipal Chapter of the Daughters of the Empire that took the lead in the project. For four days in late November, 1914, members of the organization were stationed in a room belonging to the premises of the Stinson estate on King William street. They were there to receive donated parcels of gifts which came there in a steady stream. At the end of the campaign, all the parcels were to be packed into one huge packing case, and forwarded to England. All the various transportation companies involved in the shipment agreed to not charge their usual fees.

The Spectator reporter who visited the King William street room was mightily impressed :

“As there are several hundred Hamilton men in all at Salisbury Plain, the number of parcels received can better be imagined than described. For many of the boys, two and three and even more individual parcels were received, while for others there were none, or only one, some of the latter being comparative strangers without friends in the city before their departure on active service.”¹

The lady volunteers  took great pains to ensure that each and every Hamilton soldier training on the Salisbury Plain would get a gift:

“After carefully checking off the list of names, the Daughters of the Empire in charge themselves sent a small Christmas gift and a card of greeting to those for whom, otherwise, the big box might not have held any remembrance from Canada.

It was arranged that Miss Plummer and Miss Arnold, “who have recently been appointed lieutenants in the Canadian militia,” would be at the Salisbury Plain camp to personally distribute the gifts.

The Christmas spirit which prompted the effort received the following description in the Spectator’s coverage:

“The gladness and joy that will stir many of the boys on opening the daintily wrapped and tied bundles will find an answering glow in the hearts of those left at home at the Christmastide of 1914.”¹

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“Mrs. Duckworth , 207 Glendale avenue, is in receipt of a letter from her son, a reservist, who was wounded in the fighting at Ypres. It throws an interesting sidelight on the hardships suffered by the men in front.”

Hamilton Spectator.   November 28, 1914.

Written from a hospital at Whitehath, Hollingbourne, Kent, the letter from Mrs. Duckworth’s son was a firsthand account of the difficulties and dangers that soldiers were facing in Western Europe:

“We arrived at Zeebrugge on Wednesday, Oct. 8, at 5:30 a.m. From there we entrained to Bruges and billeted there for the day.  We left Bruges at 5:30 a.m., and took up a position about six miles away.

“We were digging trenches all day, and at night, our platoon was on outpost duty. We had to stand at arms for an hour before dinner, which was at 4:45 a.m.. We then got orders to move, and we marched to Ostend. We there entrained for Ghent, and received a great reception on our arrival.

“We stayed in the city about five hours, and then marched about two miles and took up a position. We were digging trenches and barricading the main roads for two full days, and on the third day, our platoon was sent out to guard a canal bridge and not let any person cross without giving the countersign. You would have laughed to see the people who lived on the other side and couldn’t get across to their homes. But it made no difference, not even military officers could pass. We were there until about 7 p.m., and then got relieved by a troop of cavalry.

“We had only just got back to our headquarters when orders came that we had to move with fixed bayonets, and that no smoking or talking was allowed. That was at 10:30 p.m., and we were marching until 7 a.m., when we arrived at a village called Semmeville, where we billeted for seven hours.

“We marched off again in pouring rain until we reached a place called Rouales, at 11:30 p.m., billeted again for the night, and marched off again at 7 a.m. to Beares, had a rest for a few hours, and then marched to Ypres, where we billeted again.

“On the morning after our arrival at Ypres, we marched about four kilometers and took up a position, digging trenches all day. Early the following morning, we marched off again about seven kilometers and took up another position, digging trenches all day.

“I may tell you that when our division arrived in this vicinity, the Germans were only in small numbers, mostly Uhians, which is their cavalry. The next day we moved again and took up another position. We had just finished digging when the enemy began to shell us. They shelled us right up until dusk, and we hadn’t one casualty.

“The following morning we moved again and got into another position, which we were told to hold at all costs. We got there before daylight, but at dawn, the enemy’s artillery started and kept up a heavy fire all day, and at night, the blighters tried to rush our position, but we drove them back as fast as they came up. We were firing rapidly for over two and a half hours. We had three wounded in our platoon, but couldn’t tell how the Germans fared, for we all collect our wounded and bury our dead during the night, that is, providing we get the opportunity.

“Anyway, we managed to get one or two hours’ sleep, and the following morning we were praised by the general. This day was Oct. 21, and the artillery quieted down a little for a few hours, but the following morning they commenced again and gave us h--.

“But we kept at them, until about 4 o’clock in the afternoon, when our platoon got word to take up another position 150 yards in front of our supports. During this advance, we had three killed and four wounded. It is a wonder we weren’t all knocked over, for we had to cross a turnip field about 70 yards across, which the Germans were playing on with two machine guns. I don’t think I ever ran as hard in my life before as I did crossing that field. When we got to the position, we had to start digging, under fire all the time, until it grew dark. Then we got a chance to straighten our backs, for during fire in the daytime, we have to dig on our stomachs until we get deep enough, then on our knees, then with a trench deep enough to allow us to stand in and just see over the top. We were in the above position from Friday until Monday night, Oct. 23 to Oct. 26. On Saturday morning, Oct. 24, the enemy started just at dawn and kept it up until Monday afternoon, when we got relieved. It ws hellish! We couldn’t get up and look over the top of the trench but bullets were spitting around us.

“We had a terrible experience on the Monday afternoon. The Bradfords, who were just over a crest on our left, retired without letting us know, allowing the Germans to flank us. Then we had it – well, hellish isn’t the word – until we retired. We left seven dead and four wounded men in the trenches, hadn’t time to either bury the dead or get the wounded away. I don’t know how the poor fellows went on. The next day we had a rest. I had a wash and a shave, the first for nine days. After that we were eating and sleeping until late at night, when orders came to move again, and that every man must have rations to last him 48 hours and carry 200 rounds of ammunition.

“We got about three kilometers down the road when bullets began to sing over our heads. We all dropped flat and lay there for about a quarter of an hour, when the firing ceased. The next move, our company had to go out on outpost. No. 3 platoon had to find the troops and picket to Nos. 1 and 2 platoons, No. 4 platoon, the one I belong to, acted as support. We got to our position and had been digging for about five minutes when the Germans commenced to fire on us. We lay flat for half an hour until they stopped, started digging again, and had got about a foot down in the ground when they opened fire again. They kept it up for about ten minutes, then they left us alone. We were digging until 3 o’clock in the morning before we got a rest. We had been down to it for just an hour and a half when we heard such a shout. We thought some of our fellows were making a charge. The next few minutes we saw the Grenadier Guards coming towards our trenches, all scattered seemingly demoralized. When they saw us, they stopped, but the Germans kept up a heavy fire as they attacked. We fought back for about half an hour when we had to retire, and it was during this retirement that I got hit. It was terrible. There were hundreds dropping everywhere. I managed to get to the first dressing station. From there I was sent to the base hospital at Ypres, and from there to Boulogne and then home. We heard at night in Ypres, that our troops had driven the Germans back again, and had gained ground, so we were all pleased.”¹

¹ Hamilton Boy Hit at Ypres : Tells of the Hardships Suffered by the Troops.”

Hamilton Spectator.   November 28, 1914

 

 

 

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“Joe Bennassi, an Italian who resided at 178 Barton street west, is hovering between life and death at the city hospital, a victim of a self-inflicted bullet wound in the base of his skull.”

Hamilton Spectator.     January 21, 1914.

It was an incident shocking enough for any Hamiltonian, but for those in the city’s Italian community is was practically alarming.

It was shortly before 8 .am., on January 21, 1914, that Joe Bennassi,  a well-known man to most Italians living in Hamilton, approached the doorstep of a house on Tiffany street, the home of the Strohan family.

Joe Beannasi, popularly known as “Big Joe” was seen by Ivan Strohan saw Joe approaching:

“The boy has told the police that Benassi called at the house intent on shooting Mrs. Strohan, but she ran out on the street and eluded him.

“Bennassi then walked to the front steps, placed the revolver to his right ear, and fired.

“The boy who was terrified by the tragedy, ran screaming to the hotel of Michael Wolfe, and told of the shooting. Wolfe telephoned for the police and Bennassi, unconscious, was rushed to the city hospital.”¹

¹ “Intended to Slay Another, Shot Himself.”

Hamilton Spectator. January 21, 1914.

In the limited time between the shots being fired at 7:55 a.m., and the time that the morning edition of the Spectator hit the streets, a Spectator reporter had investigated and had discovered the reason for “Big Joe’s” rash act:

“Bennassi has been in Hamilton about seven years. Early in October, he moved to 178 Barton street west and became acquainted with Mrs. Strohan.

“The acquaintance, it is said, rapidly ripened into an infatuation, and Bennassi continually forced his attentions on the woman. Alexis Strohan, husband of the woman, yesterday it is said, rebuked his wife for talking to Bennassi.

“ ‘Big Joe’ heard of the rebuke and brooded about it. He moped around his boarding house all yesterday afternoon and last night.

“Today, he rose early and told fellow countrymen that he was going out to ‘do a job.’

“ Bennassi had been out of employment for some weeks and this remark was taken to mean that he had secured some work. The awful import of it  was forcibly brought home to the other boarders when they learned fifteen minutes later that he had tried to do away with himself.”¹

“Big Joe’ had approached the Strohan house, packing a 32-calibre pistol in his hip pocket. Seemingly half-crazed, he had forced his way into the house,  pulled out the gun and pointed it at Anna Strohan. Terrified, the woman screamed and ran out of the house. “Big Joe” let himself out of the house and went only as far as the front steps, where he stopped, put the revolver to his head and pulled the trigger. Only one shot was fired, the bullet becoming embedded in Bennassi’s head.

As the morning Spectator went to press, “Big Joe’ was still alive although doctors were not holding out much hope for his living much longer.

In the aftermath of the incident, many people were deeply shaken:

“Mrs. Strohan, it is said, is still in a hysterical condition from shock and fright. Bennassi was very popular in the district, and many of his countrymen called at the hospital to inquire about his condition this morning.”¹

 

 

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In November, 1914, the problem of homelessness in Hamilton was severe, especially as winter loomed ever closer.

The United Relief Association had limited means, but a lot of caring for those affected.

Efforts to be of assistance intensified as the month was coming to an end:

“A month ago, the problem of caring for Hamilton’s poor was really serious; today the problem is acute, and the coming of the severe cold is responsible.”¹

          ¹  “Shelter For the Homeless : United Relief Association to Provide Quarters”

Hamilton Spectator. November 21, 1914.

A reporter for the Hamilton Spectator spent some time assessing the number of homeless people in the city and the challenges they faced:

“Probably it is not generally known that there are men in Hamilton without a roof over their heads and that these people have been compelled to sleep out in the open – in public parks, back yards and vacant fields.

“The number of unemployed men and boys who have been compulsory devotees of this fresh air treatment has been roughly estimated at nearly a hundred.

“It was a hardship even in extremely mild weather, but the arrival of winter, with its attending icy blasts and heavy frosts, has made it impossible. These men have not a cent of money, sometimes they go two or three days without a bite to eat.

“Oftentimes, weak from hunger and cold, they seek the warmth of a railway waiting room. Five minutes is the usual time allotted to them for a shin-heat. Then they are unceremoniously bounced out the door, or the police are called and they are charged with vagrancy.”¹

A meeting of the United Relief Association was held on November 20, 1914, the sole item on the agenda being the matter of homeless in Hamilton :

“Plans were promulgated for the opening of sleeping quarters, where the homeless, disheartened army of unemployed could be sheltered.

“A building for this purpose has been rented. It is an empty warehouse on Macnab street south. Arrangements were made with the Salvation Army, the members of whom will have charge of the building.

“A soup kitchen will be installed in the warehouse and a piping hot breakfast served gratis to all lodgers.

“It is expected that the sleeping hall will be in operation within a week.”¹

 

1914-11-17add

They were just two short items in the Hamilton Spectator of November 17, 1914, but they showed the impact that the war in Western Europe was having in Hamilton.

The first concerned a gathering at the city’s prestigious Hamilton Club at Main and James streets. A farewell dinner, attended by sixty men was held there for three prominent figures in the local medical community who were about to go to the front with the second contingent.

Major Farmer was going with the Field Ambulance Corps, andCaptains Jones, Silcox and Nicholson were going with him to serve on his staff.

Major Farmer was presented with a pair of field glasses, while the others were each presented with military wrist watches. Speeches were made which referred to the sacrifices the men were making to serve their country, as all of them had extensive practices which were being abandoned:

“The suggestion was made that the local doctors take over the practice of the men and not only give them the remuneration with they return, but also keep their practices intact. The idea met with the general favor of the doctors present, and it is likely that such some steps will be taken in the near future.”¹

¹ “Farewell Dinner : Prominent Medical Men Leave Shortly for the Front.”

Hamilton Spectator.   November 17, 1914.

The other story concerned the popular, high class, vaudeville theater on King street, the Temple Theater. It was announced that at the end of the week, after the appearance of the English comedienne Alice Lloyd, the theatre would be closed for an indefinite period :

“ ‘Thereis nothing else to do,’ said Will H. Stevens, manager of the house, discussing the matter this morning.

“ ‘Theatrical business all over the country is suffering as a result of the disturbed conditions caused by the war, and I don’t think any place, for its size, is harder hit than Hamilton.

“ ‘Our decision to close the house was only reached after careful consideration and following a heavy heavy loss on the company’s part. I think that the theatergoing public of this city will agree with me that the Temple has furnished vaudeville shows that compare with the best seen in the larger American cities. But the patronage has not justified the expense.

“ ‘Hamilton is a good show town, one of the best in the country when conditions are right, and when business becomes normal again, the Temple will reopen.’ ”²

¹ “Temple Closes for the Season : Won’t Reopen Until Conditions Are Normal.”

Hamilton Spectator      November 17, 1914

1914-11-16la

On November 16, 1914, the Hamilton Spectator published another report from one of its representatives who was in camp with the troops training in England, preparing to go to the front to fight the German army which had rolled over Belgium and was in France:

“Salisbury, England, Oct. 31 :

“Just how long the Canadian overseas expeditionary force will remain in England is the question of the hour in the several camps here, and, moreover, it is a question that cannot be answered with any degree of certainty even by the highest authorities. The truth of the matter is that it will depend entirely upon circumstances.

“It may be confidently stated, however, that the Canadians will be in England for sometime. Indeed, it is quite reasonable to suppose, without incurring the displeasure of that august personage the press censor, that they will eat their Christmas dinners on these wide, historic plains of Salisbury. If this is not the case, there will be many surprised officers, for all have been preparing for a long stay. Rumor has it that some of the individual units, such as the Princess Patricia regiment and the cavalry, neither of which is a part of the division, may go forward before the others. I am able to secure no confirmation of this.

No one is looking forward to this prospect of routine training – every man wants to get into the fray at once – but they are making the best of it, and the time is passing rapidly. When their ambition is finally realized and they find themselves in the firing line, these Canadians will show the Kaiser’s troops just what they can do – and their deeds will bring honor and glory to the Dominion.

The Canadian volunteers are able to endure all sorts of hardships when necessity demands it of them, but they are firm believers of being as comfortable as possible when they can. Thus it will be found that but few tents in the officers’ lines lack an oil stove, camp bed and a chair or two. One is inclined to think that campaigning under such circumstances is not so hard after all.

          MEN ARE CONTENTED

But what of the men, the rank and file of the force? They cannot have stoves and beds and chairs, nor can they drop into the mess tent for afternoon tea or do any of these many little things that go so far towards making  camp life for the officers more pleasant. Yet, these sturdy sons of Britain’s greatest overseas dominion are happy. True, lately, the weather has been miserable, but they are getting plenty to eat and are fairly comfortable in their canvas homes. A few months ago, these same young men were toiling over books in city offices, pounding typewriters, working in factories or doing any one of the numerous other things at which men earn their living in Canada, and the thought of sleeping in a leaky tent with a straw mattress for a bed and two blankets for covering would have made them shiver. Today, they are thriving on it.

“Picture, if you can, the life they lead, all you relatives and friends of these men, who have volunteered to serve their country. At 6 o’clock every morning, the stirring notes of reveille echo and re-echo through the lines. Thousands of drowsy soldiers open their eyes. The alert ones are up at once and the others who seek a few minute’s more sleep are speedily routed out. Steaming tins of tea or coffee are served, and setting up drill, which follows, effectually banishes the last vestige of drowsiness. Breakfast is soon ready, and thick slices of bread with bacon or cold meat are rapidly disposed of.

“Then comes the route march – or it may be company drill or skirmishing – kits are strapped on, the order is given, and off they start over the rolling plain. The autumn air is sharp and keen, the road is good, and mile after mile is covered, yet the boys still stride on smartly. Gradually, these marches grow longer, in due time, they will last all day. The object of them is to harden the men for the long forced marches they will have to make when they actually reach the front.

          HARDENING THE MUSCES

Dinner is on at 12 o’clock, and great quantities of stew – ‘Skilly,’ they call it in the army – are served out. Sometimes skilly is referred to as ‘that everlasting stew,’ but it’s a fine thing for hungry man, even though it is served every day. Beginning at 2 o’clock in the afternoon, there is more drill and rifle exercise. There is little of the ceremonial in the training of a soldier about to leave on active service – the chief object in view is that he should be made physically fit and able to shoot straight. But this drill has a double purpose. It not only teaches the soldier how the slope arms with machine-like precision, but also teaches him to regard his rifle unconsciously and hardens his muscles.

“ ‘Retreat’ sounds about 5 o’clock, and tea is served shortly afterwards. This time the meat consists of bread and cheese, jam, tea and such luxuries as the men are able to purchase at the canteens. The long evenings are spent in the great Y.M.C.A. recreation tents playing games, reading and writing letters or perhaps some coterie of kindred spirits will gather in their own tents to chat or play cards by the dim light of a candle lantern. At 9:45, the ‘last post’ sounds, and, one by one, the dull glows of canvas-screened lights disappear into the night.

“Thus the soldier’s day begins and ends with the blare of many bugles.

          CARD OF PRAYERS

Just outside the cap of nearly every member of the Canadian overseas expeditionary force, tucked snugly between the leather sweatband and the cloth, is a small, white card. It is a very ordinary little card, and yet it is pregnant with meaning. It is the gift and the message of the chaplain-general of the British army to the troops and on one side is a brief soldier’s prayer. ‘Almighty and Most Merciful Father, forgive me my sins; grant me Thy peace; give me Thy power, ; bless me in life and death for Jesus’ sake. Amen.’ On the other is printed the Lord’s Prayer.

“The Canadian volunteers are not more religious than any other body of young men, but the dangerous mission on which they have elected to go in the name of their country seems to have given them a deeper appreciation of what their religion means. Even before they left Valcartier, it was noticed that the attendance at church parades, all of which are voluntary, was much greater than usual, and every man entered into the spirit of the service. The most notable example of this was on the last Sunday in camp, when practically every man, with the exception of those on duty, turned out to a great open-air service on the plain. Here it is the same. So far the weather has prevented large gar=therings for service in the open.

The chaplains, of them there are quite a number, are finding plenty to do in the way of entertaining the men as well as looking after their spiritual welfare. Libraries have been established in each of the four camps, marquees having been obtained for the purpose, thanks to the efforts of a number of prominent people who have interested themselves in this work. Some 50,000 new books, all standard works, have been resented, and are being distributed among the different libraries. The chaplains are acting as librarians, and in this capacity keep in constant touch with the men. Another task they have undertaken is the distribution of several thousand packs of playing cards. ‘I don’t know what my parishioners would say,’ remarked a well-known Anglian chaplain smilingly, ‘if they knew I was helping to supply the men in my charge with playing cards, yet they are the means of providing many hours of perfectly helpless amusement.’

          PLENTY OF RAIN

It has rained here every day for a week, and the camps are very muddy. The roads, firm and well-built as they are, show signs of going to pieces, and in a few places between here and Bustard are almost impassable. This is due to the tremendous volume of heavy traffic passing over them. In addition to the thirty odd heavy transports that the Canadians have brought over, there are a number of heavy traction engines that daily draw in trains of trucks loaded with coal. The combination of wet weather and heavy traffic is enough to spoil any road. The softer ground around such places as the post office is a veritable sea of mud, and the men justly complain that it is impossible to keep their footwear in smart condition.

The postal corps is proving one of the most enterprising units in camp. Starting out under unfavorable conditions, such as lack of men and accommodation for the heavy mails, they have brought the service up to a place of efficiency almost as high as that at Valcartier. The latest idea is to have the mail delivered from the base office, situated at divisional headquarters, to the field stations by aeroplane. There are plenty of air craft about, and a machine is to be secured some day soon to try out the scheme. It is proposed to load a stack of letter mail for each camp at headquarters and to have the aviator drop these at the respective field offices. Should it prove practical a daily aeroplane mail service will be inaugurated. In considering this proposal, it is well to remember that the four camps are miles away from each other.

“Hardening the Canadian Boys : Are Being Made Fit For Service at Front.”

Hamilton Spectator.   November 16, 1914

 

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Fundraising for war-stricken people in Europe was the subject of two very different stories in the Hamilton Spectator during the month of November, 1914.

The first story concerned a donation, which was intended to help raise money for the assistance of the Belgian population devastated by the German invasion of their country:

“F. J. Howell, president of the Howell Lithographing company, announced today that he would donate 10,000 Belgian flags to the Belgian Relief committee.

“These flags will be sold on the street, a certain day being fixed for the campaign, and the proceeds will revert to the relief fund. Members of the committee were agreeably surprised when the announcement of the donation was made this morning.”¹

¹ Hamilton Spectator.   November 16, 1914.

Just two days later, some fundraising had a very different character:

“For the past two or three days, there have been a couple of foreigners canvassing the city, collecting funds for various charitable causes; sometimes for Belgian relief, at other times for Austrian relief, and again for Armenian missions.

“They appeared to have a measure of success in their efforts, but apparently met their Waterloo yesterday afternoon, when they went into some offices of the Bank of Hamilton building. In their canvas, they unfortunately came across one of the officials of the Belgian Relief fund, and he at once warned others in the building, with the result that the work of collecting funds there came to a sudden termination.”²

² “Not Authorized : Foreigners Were Collecting For Belgian Relief Fund.”

Hamilton Spectator.   November 18, 1914.

The “fund-raisers” managed to get out of the large office building at King and James streets, and then made their hurried exit from downtown Hamilton before the police could be alerted.

In response, an announcement about the scam was made public:

“The matter was reported to the members of the Belgian Relief committee, who have asked the Spectator to state that as yet there have been no collectors sent out, especially no foreigners.

“The committee has sent out circulars calling for assistance and intend to start a collecting campaign, but due notice of this will be given in the local press.”²

 

 

 

1914-11-17oo

“Wrapped in a dirty, threadbare shawl and tucked in a fruit basket, a baby boy, not more than two days old, was found on the sidewalk near St. Joseph’s convent, Park street north, at 9:30 last night.”

Hamilton Spectator.   November 17, 1914.

Two young men, Peter Grant and John McNichol, fortunately were walking along Park street on a cold November evening when they heard a weak, muffled cry, and then spotted an abandoned baby, left on the sidewalk :

“They stopped, looked around and found the basket, containing the infant, and they immediately took it into the convent and turned it over to the mother superior. The wee infant was almost dead from exposure.”¹

¹ “Infant Deserted : Foundling Left Out in the Cold and May Not Survive”

Hamilton Spectator.   November 17, 1914.

A call was made to the Central Police station and Detective Goodman responded.

The next morning Police Constable Pinch was sent to the convent to make arrangements for the little one to be taken to the Home of the Friendless at Bold and Hess streets. At the same time, Detective Goodman returned to the neighborhood :

“Detective Goodman conducted an investigation in the neighborhood, but no one saw the basket placed on the sidewalk. There are no marks of identification on the shawl and it is probable that the infant’s parentage will never be known.”¹

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In the interests of providing readers of the Great Family Journal with news about how troops were being trained for combat, the Spectator sent P. A. Buttery to Salisbury Plain in October, 1914

Here is the story Buttery submitted which was published on November 13, 1914 :

“Salisbury Plain, England, Oct. 24 –

“We have been in England just a week today, and are now settled down in our new quarters on Salisbury plain. To those members of the Candian contingent who had never seen England before, and to whom the mother country was, in imagination, an aggregation of factories and buildings, the experience so far has been something of a revelation. They had scarcely got over their surprise at the immensity of the government dockyards at Devonport and Plymouth when they were whisked in a London and South Western train through some of the most delightful of Devonshire scenery – perhaps as charming a piece of country as can be found the world over. Gunner Fred Taylor, of Hamilton, who left the Ambitious City with the 33^rd howitzers, and who now, with many more of us, is attached to the 3^rd Artillery brigade ammunition column, expressed the thoughts of many when he remarked :

“ ‘I’ve often listened to you chirpers talking about England, and I always thought it was mostly hot air. There’s no hot air about this, though. These green fields and hedges, with the valleys and rivers, beat anything I have ever seen, and I shall write home and tell them all about it. I’m going to be a chirper myself in future.’

“The train journey to Salisbury plain, before it became dusk, wa made under the happiest circumstances. The sun was shining brilliantly, and the troops were feeling pretty pleased with themselves because of the reception they had received at the hands of the English people at Plymouth. These people represented the English nation, and they cheered not so much the men themselves, but what they represented. Our contingent was the first fighting force from any of Britain’s overseas dominions to set foot on English soil during the present campaign, and it furnished proof, if proof were necessary, that the colonies are heart and soul with the mother country in the present gigantic struggle. So these Plymouth people lined the streets from dockyard to the station and cheered and cheered again. Men, too old to shout, came forward and asked for nothing better to be allowed to shake hands with Canada’s soldiers, while young women rushed here and there, handing cigarets and chocolates to all they could touch.

“The scene at Plymouth station was perhaps the most memorable of all. It will certainly linger long in the recollection of those who were privileged to witness it. The troops (I am writing now only of the third artillery brigade and the ammunition column: the others came afterwards, and I believe had receptions equally as remarkable) lined up in the presence of thousands of men and women, who cheered themselves hoarse, and from one quarter of the vast crowd came the strains of The Maple Leaf – sung probably by a score or two of Ex-Canadians who had returned to the homeland. When at last the train started, with the cheers of the people still ringing in our ears, we were at once plunged into the delightful country in the southeastern part of Devonshire, and the valleys and hedgerows were a refreshing sight after seeing nothing for two weeks but a vast expanse of ocean. It was evident that our approach had been heralded in the various towns and villages through which we passed, for upon each bridge and at each station there were crowds of people to give us welcome, and at Exeter, where we halted for fifteen minutes, many thousands assembled. As an instance of kindly treatment which was meted out to the troops, it is worthy of mention that one lady on the platform bought up all the coffee and tea to be had at the refreshment rooms, and handed it out  to the men, together with any buns and sandwiches which might be handy. The bill she had to settle must have been a considerable one, and the boys showed their appreciation of her kindness by giving three hearty cheers as the train steamed away on the last stage of the journey.

“Without any further incident of note, we arrived at Amesbury – a station on Salisbury plain – at 11:20 p.m. on October 16, and from there had a 15 mile march to our camp at West Down North, which we reached, tired and cold and weary, at 2:30 next morning. A few hours’ rest, however, soon put us right again, and the camp was quickly put in order. The horses and the remainder of the 3^rd brigade men who had traveled to England by another transport, found us a couple of days later, and then the serious work of training was recommenced. The troops were given to understand that they would be kept at Salisbury  for about a couple of months before being entrained for the front – a delay which caused much disappointment in many quarters. On the whole, however, despite the anxiety of Col. Sam Hughes to get the contingent in action as soon as possible, it was felt that the men would greatly benefit  by the extra training under imperial officers, and the troops therefore curbed their impatience and settled down to a period of work.

“On Wednesday, October 21, General Alderson, who has been appointed by the British government to command the Canadian contingent at the front, called the troops together, and in a happy and appropriate speech, introduced himself to them. He mentioned incidentally that he had the opportunity of seeing the work of the Canadians in South Africa, and he knew, therefore, what they were capable of. He was proud of the honor the government had conferred upon him in placing him at the head of so fine a body of men.

“The general also mentioned that, despite strong opposition, he had succeeded in obtaining for the Canadian troops a ‘wet’ canteen instead of a ‘dry’ one, as was at first insisted upon in certain influential quarters. He had fought for the men in this regard, for he believed in treating men like men and not like schoolboys. He wanted every man to look upon him as a friend as well as a commanding officer, and he, in turn, would always fight for them, as long as he held the command.

“On Friday, October 26, the first batch of men went on leave, in most cases three days being granted. In special instances, where the men had long journeys to undertake, the period of leave was extended to five and six days, this applying in the majority of cases to those whose homes or relatives were in such distant places as Scotland or Ireland. It was remarkable how many of the troops suddenly developed a desire to visit a long lost uncle or aunt in the land of the heather or the shamrock.

“This morning (Saturday) the whole of the Canadian contingent, excepting those on leave, were reviewed by the famous veteran, Field Marshall Earl Roberts, the hero of many campaigns. Unfortunately rain fell heavily during the inspection, but the troops had a splendid view of Britain’s great soldier as he passed slowly in front of the lines in an automobile.

“Everybody in camp is in splendid health, despite the fact that it has rained almost continuously since our arrival here. It is also gratifying to know that although the old 33^rd battery men from Hamilton have split up in so many directions, we are much nearer together than we were at Valcartier. The majority of us are, of course, with the ammunition column of the 3^rd brigade, a sone’s throw to the south of us are Lieut. Dunlop and Lieut. Hoodless, the two officers who took us to Valcartier, and who are now attached to the divisional ammunition column; three minutes’ walk to the west are the lines of the Royal Canadian Horse artillery, to which regiment a dozen or so of our men transferred at Valcartier, and already visits have been exchanged; a little farther away is the automobile transport section, to which a few more of our men migrated; while to give the affair a further Hamilton flavor, next  door to us is the 8^th battery, which is mainly composed of the 4^th battery from the Ambitious City. So we are quite a happy family, thoroughly contented and comfortable in our new surroundings.” ¹

¹ “With Canadian Troops on Salisbury Plain : Spectator Man, With Contingent, Tells of Reception Colonials Received .”

Hamilton Spectator.   November 13, 1914

 

 

1914-11-12ob

There were many poems written and forwarded to Hamilton newspapers during the World War One period.

One appeared in the Hamilton Spectator of November, inspired by a tragic event involving a young man in France.

Written by Kate Colquhoun, and titled “A French Boy Scout”, the poetry was preceded by a quote from a German Official Pamphlet.

That quote and the poem follow :

“A traitor has been shot, a little French lad – a Boy Scout. He was asked if his troops were about, and refused to say. Later, our men were fired upon, and the boy was asked if he knew the French were there. He did not deny it. He received the volley of the firing party with a proud smile on his lips – German Official Pamphlet.)”

“Where are your troops?” the captain cried:

   “If you tell us, truly we will let you go.”

But the Boy Scout looked with scornful pride,

   At the waiting guns and the burly foe.

A few steps farther a volley burst

   From the hidden French by the river line,

And quickly the German foe dispersed.

   Then turned on the boy their anger fine.

“Little wretch! You knew that your men were there,

   And you would not speak, this you can’t deny.”

Oh, deep in his heart there rose a prayer,

   For a scout must be brave, and he must not lie.

In front of the cowardly firing squad

   Stood a little Boy Scout, who bravely smiled,

And a hero’s soul went to his God

   From the shattered frame of a Spartan child.

With even the children proved so brave,

   How can the tyrants hope to win?

They will gain in France but a bitter grave,

   And their nation will fall ‘neath its weight of sin. ¹

¹ “A French Boy Scout”

Hamilton Spectator..   November 12, 1914

 

 

1914-11-12ao

“That the authorities whose duty it is to guard Canada against hostile acts of alien enemies, are taking no chances, notwithstanding the fact that alarmist rumors which have circulated frequently have been dismissed lightly, is evident from the action that was taken here today.”

Hamilton Spectator.   November 03, 1914.

For many weeks, since the outbreak of war in August, 1914, there had been concerns that German agents were operating in Canada, preparing to sabotage important parts of the country’s infrastructure.

Finally, on November 12, 1914, following an order from the Hon. Sam Hughes, minister of militia, a meeting was held, involving the leaders of Hamilton’s two militia units, the Thirteenth Royal Regiment and the 91^st Highlanders, with Hamilton Mayor John Allan and Hamilton Police Chief Smith:

“(They) arranged for the placing of armed guards at various points in the city where enemies might do damage. Soldiers from the local militia will be used. The number that will be employed and the places they will guard will be kept secret.”¹

¹ “Local Units Will Furnish Armed Guards : Action Taken on Instructions From Ottawa”

Hamilton Spectator.  November 12, 1914.

In an interview with the Hamilton Spectator, Mayor Allan said “This action was not taken in anticipation of any urgent, immediate need of such additional protection, but prevention is better than cure, and for that reason it has been deemed best to place the guards as suggested”¹

          The day after it was announced that guards were to put in place at various locations, including the reservoirs, bridges, and pump houses, it was announced that the armed guards had been given full authority to do what they deemed necessary to fulfill their assignment:

“”The men were impressed, before starting out, with the fact that they were  on active service, and assigned to serious business. No interfering is to be permitted on the part of civilians, and members of the guard are prohibited  from touching intoxicating liquors.

          “The object of these guards is to prevent malicious damage and under special order from the militia department, the guards are instructed to fire upon anyone caught in such an act. The order specifically states that the guards shall ‘fire at the offenders, not over their heads.’ ”²

                ² “Shoot to Hit is Order to Local Guard : Armed Men Acting Under Explicit Instructions”

          Hamilton Spectator.  November 13, 1914.

          As part of the arrangements for protecting key locations in Hamilton, proper accommodation was made available for the guards at their stations. The guardhouses were for comfort and shelter, as well as a place where meals, supplied by their units, could be eaten without leaving the location.

          Each soldier stationed at any point was expected  to complete a twenty hour term of duty, with brief relief provided at  stated intervals.