Thursday, July 30, 2009

Ed Ames - The Great War



Edwin Alfred Ames
79th "Manitoba Rangers" Battalion
107th “Timber Wolf” Battalion

When King George V of Great Britain declared war in August 1914, Canada, together with the rest of the British Empire was at war. The call to arms was enthusiastically supported by British Canadians like Glenlyon Campbell, first white settler of Gilbert Plains, Manitoba. Glen Campbell was a prairie-bred scout to Major-General Middleton at the decisive Battle of Batoche, that led to the surrender of Louis Riel on May 15, 1885. By virtue of his promotion to the rank of captain in the Battle of Batoche, and his persuasive nature, Campbell was assigned to the Brandon-based 79th (Manitoba Rangers) Infantry Battalion of the Canadian Expeditionary Force (CEF) based in Brandon, and authorised to raise his own company.

With no links to the existing militia, recruiting depended entirely on Campbell’s reputation, which was formidable. Besides being a “prairie-bred scout” of some renown, Campbell was the son of the chief factor for the Hudson’s Bay Company. He had been educated in Glasgow and Edinburgh, had become a rancher, and had served as a Conservative Member of Parliament for the riding of Gilbert Plains before being rewarded with the position of Inspector General of Indian Affairs in western Canada. With the motto “Follow me,” and the regimental march, “The Campbells are coming,” he attracted 1,741 volunteers, many of them natives. He rejected 600 men and achieved full strength within three months. Edwin Alfred Ames was among this hard-riding battalion of natives and cowpunchers that on 4 Nov. 1915 became the 107th Pioneer Battalion; reported to be “NCOs and men…, of good physique and above average intelligence, though few hold certificates.”

The Battalion was a curious mix of the old and the new. While its Pipe and Drum Band reflected its Imperial linkages and Campbell's heritage, its Wolf cap badge seems to reflect the frontier and an ancient native Canadian influence.


Like Glen Campbell, Ed Ames fit the western pioneer stereotype of a “towering figure, bronzed swarthy face, large brown eyes, capped off with a cowboy hat.” When he enlisted on August 3, 1915, like most of the first volunteers, motivated by the virtues of patriotism and loyalty, as well as a thirst for adventure in the struggle against aggressive Germany tyranny, he was probably worried that the war would be over by Christmas.

In June 1916 the 107th moved to Camp Hughes just west of Carberry, Manitoba for serious training in extensive trench systems, grenade and rifle ranges. On September 19, 1916, the 107th sailed from Halifax on the Olympic, with the 5,000 members of the Canadian Expeditionary Force. Upon arrival in England, the 107th, initially an infantry unit, was reconfigured as a Pioneer Battalion, which were infantry soldiers trained to conduct basic combat engineering tasks (usually associated with the preparing of defenses or the breaching of obstacles) in the very front line. However, Pioneers were neither support troops, like the Entrenching Battalions or Railway Companies (unarmed units assigned specific tasks in the rear areas) nor pure engineers like the Engineering Field Companies (professional engineers capable of sophisticated design and construction in the battle area) but fighting troops. They were armed, trained and employed in combat roles, when not assigned engineering tasks.

Unlike other battalions of the CEF which were routinely broken up to reinforce existing units, the 107th was spared significant depletion. Campbell insisted that as a unit, his men were well suited to combat engineering tasks, and his superiors felt that the natives would work better under their own officers. So, together, in February 1917, the 107th Pioneer Battalion moved to France, the last complete unit from western Canada to join the Canadian Corps.

Upon arrival they came under the command of Major-General Arthur Currie, as part of the 1st Canadian Divisional Engineers, and were soon engaged in an endless series of exhausting and often dangerous tasks behind the line at Vimy Ridge. In April, 1917, as part of the Canadian Corp, operating as a unit for the first time, they successfully captured Vimy Ridge from the Germans, in the first major victory for the Allies to that point in the war. With the promotion of Lieut.-General Sir Julian Byng to the command of the British 3rd Army in June 1917, and his replacement by Arthur Currie meant that for the first time in history, a Canadian was in command of all Canadian troops.

The 107th held a section of the front line from late June until mid-July 1917, running the same trench warfare housekeeping and fighting routines as any other infantry unit, while at the same time providing large semi-skilled work parties to conduct engineering battlefield preparation works.

On July 7th, 1917 Currie was ordered to take the town of Lens in northern France. The town was strategic; the Germans needed it for its rail access, the British wanted it for its coal. Additionally, the British wanted to use the attack as a feint, committing German troops to Lens while the British and French attacked in the Somme area.

According to the British, this action was to have involved a frontal assault on the town of Lens, but this was not allowed to happen. Currie rejected the First Army plan to attack the town, believing that a direct assault into the fortified ruins of an urban area would favour the defender and likely cost the Canadians horrific casualties. General Currie had been a very successful Divisional Commander who had
started to solidify what was to be known as the Canadian approach to war - the expending of firepower and material, not human lives, to win objectives. Currie rejected the First Army plan to attack the town.

Instead, he selected the high ground around the shattered town of Lens as his objective. The occupation of the elevated positions, overlooking the city, with another "Vimy" type assault would threaten the entire German defensive position in the sector. The German reaction would likely be to counter attack consuming valuable men and material, thus advancing the First Army's strategic mission. This decision reflects the sophistication of Currie's leadership and expertise in both the interpretation of strategy and in the science of modern warfare. Currie was a superb tactician, one of the best military minds of all time, but the British Army structure did not appreciate Generals changing orders. The issue was raised to Field Marshall Sir Douglas Haig, commander of the British forces. Haig approved the attack, but predicted that it would fail.

Hill 70 was a perfect defensive position. It was a maze of deep trenches and dugouts and included deep mines that had been dug in peacetime and could protect the defenders. Coiled barbed wire, up to 5 feet in height in front of the trenches would make a frontal attack difficult. Machine guns were deeply entrenched in the slopes, inside of pill-boxes reinforced in concrete. Additionally, in July 1917 the Germans introduced flame-throwers and mustard gas, which blistered any portion of exposed skin. Overall, it wasn’t an enviable target to be given.

Preparations for the attack were extensive. As they had done at Vimy, an area behind the lines was laid out to represent Hill 70, and units practiced the attack until every section knew exactly what they had to do. Additionally, the hill and the surrounding area were subjected to ongoing bombardment and gas attacks. Currie also devised an innovative battle plan which depended largely on the new technologies and skills of the Canadian Corps and built on the experience gained at Vimy and elsewhere. He planned to quickly occupy the high ground in a whirlwind attack, establish defensive positions (studded with platoon-sized machine-gun equipped strong points) and destroy, with a combined arms curtain of fire, the German forces, who he knew would counterattack. Hill 70 was to be "a killing by artillery" and would be the first time radio communications with ground spotters was employed as well as aerial observers to provide deep observation and targeting for the Division and Corps guns.

On the evening of 14 August the attack commenced with the bombardment of the hill by the Canadian artillery, damaging the trenches and blowing holes in the defensive wire. At 4:25 AM, dawn of August 15, the Canadians went over the top, the 2nd Division in the center, the 1st Division on the left. The 107th Pioneer Battalion was in direct support of the 3rd Infantry Brigade of 1st Division.

The forward positions of the 26th and 165th Regiments of the German 7th Division were overwhelmed by the dynamic, violent and well practiced battle skills of the Canadian infantry. Following the assault the troops of the 107th we charged with digging “communication trenches” across the 300 to 500 yards of deadly no-man's-land, while under fire. Linking the Canadian front lines with the newly captured enemy front lines via these zig-zag constructions was vital to the safe movement forward of the men and material needed to secure the captured ground and implement Currie's plan to inflict a bloody repulse of the inevitable counterattacks. To appreciate their mission, it is useful to remember that pioneers were really infantry soldiers - trained, armed and equipped for close combat. Each pioneer carried a personal load of ammunition, food, water and weapons often totaling 60 to 80 pounds. As a pioneer company, each group's standard load would have also included: 27 spools of barbed wire; 200 sand bags; 100 shovels/picks/axes; large wire cutters; and an ammunition stock of 6,000 rounds (mostly for their Lewis Guns), as well as 100 grenades.

The 107th went forward with orders to support the "straight" infantry with engineering tasks but could have been re-tasked to join in an assault and were expected to defend themselves on the active battlefield. No other Canadian soldiers were expected to carry such physical burdens or to have such operational flexibility. The battalions of the 3rd Brigade reached their objectives by about 0600 hours and were ready to destroy (with the help of massed artillery fire) the expected counterattacks. The three companies of the 107th spent that entire first day dangerously exposed in no-man's-land, working on the communication trenches. The cost was high. The three companies lost 21 dead and 130 badly wounded of the 600 men engaged.

The 107th continued its trenching tasks throughout the first night. "D" Company actually dug all the way from the start line to the Blue Line, a distance of about 600 yards. Late on the night of the 16th the troops of the 107th also carried forward construction stores to the most advanced positions. While the infantry continued to defend their new positions on the 17th, the 107th continued its tasks under fire and a new threat, blister gas.

Finally, on the night of 17/18 August, the 107th was ordered to the rear to rest. The other units of the 3rd Brigade had already been replaced during the previous night. It was at this point that an element of the 107th took on another task, not one of combat but rather one of rescue. One Company of the 107th volunteered to stay behind and search for wounded in the harder hit sector to the south, particularly in the area of the 10th Battalion. Campbell gave his permission and during the night many wounded were rescued and about 30 dead buried. Unfortunately, the Germans detected the activity and launched a gas attack that poisoned 88 members of the 107th Battalion.

Edwin Ames may have been among the 88. Family records report him present at the Battles of Vimy Ridge and Hill 70, but absent from the next at the Battle of Passchendaele, where Lieutenant-Colonel Archibald Glenlyon Campbell was killed on October 20th, 1917. He son, George Ames reported that, after being gassed badly in 1917. Following a lengthy stay in a hospital in England, Ed was discharged from the army on April 14th, 1919.

The battle for Hill 70 continued, with the Germans counterattacking 21 times, the last at dawn on August 18th. The Canadians repulsed them all. Lens was not taken; however holding the high ground of Hill 70 seriously impacted the German position.

The attack on Hill 70 resulted in Allied casualties totaling 1,505 men killed, 3,810 wounded, 487 wounded by gas and 41 prisoners to the Germans; the bulk of the causalities were on the first day of the attack. The Germans who had committed 5 divisions in an attempt to hold Hill 70, suffered much greater losses with approximately 20,000 causalities and 970 Germans taken prisoner.

Douglas Haig was wrong in his prediction; Currie had proven himself a superior tactician to the British command. On Hill 70, Canadian troops earned five Victoria Crosses during this 4 day period. Their reputation and their German nickname "Sturmtruppen" were cemented in this action. Thereafter, to the Germans, the Canadians were known as "storm trooper"; the troops most feared by the Germans during the First World War, and the German army always prepared for the worst when an attack was spearheaded by the Canadian army.

Thursday, May 28, 2009

"Was the Life of These Worth Living?"

As we visit the Amesdale Cemetery, this question posed many years ago by Andy Clement, may cross our minds. The question, Andy asks, is beautifully answered as he writes:

“The little cemetery at Amesdale is one of many scattered about the North. It is typical of those to be found, if indeed they can be located, in small homestead settlements which began dying as soon as they started”

“And we ask ourselves, ‘Was the life of these worth living?’”

“When you see the hard-won earth going back to nature, the trees growing into the roads which had been made by a team and a scraper in the flies and heat, and the crumbling homes soon to be hidden behind a new forest, we must surely say, ‘No, ‘Twas all in vain!’ ”

“Such was not the case. The weak and disenchanted had come and soon left. The precious few who remained and who are interred in this little plot had their share of happiness. One should not mourn the lives of the pioneer as being in vain because they worked hard and died poor. Indeed at the hour of death we are all poor. The homesteader had an advantage in that everything he did from his prayers to his labour touched close upon his family and himself. Their expectations were few and humble and they learned to find joy in simple things.”

Andy’s words “Everything he did from his prayers to his labour touched close upon his family” still ring true.

Indeed, their labours and prayers, were on our behalf. May we always remember them. May we never forget that we were the very objects of their love, hope, and sacrifice. Our lives are the evidence that their lives of struggle and sacrifice 'Twas not in vain!'
Amesdale Cemetery - 2009








Philip Sidney
Amesdale Resident 1930 to 1939
By daughter Joan Sidney Curle


Philip was born in 1902 in Newcastle, England, the eldest of five brothers. He apprenticed as a ship’s engineer in his late teens. After WWI, when Dad was entering the workforce there was no work for him in England as the soldiers returning from the war had priority, so he went to Spain where he worked for a year on his uncle’s olive orchard on Majorca. He became fluent in Spanish. He returned to England but with still no work available he immigrated to Canada. Passenger records show him arriving in Halifax in 1926.

His first jobs in Canada included working at the Bob-Jo gold mine near Timmins, working on a threshing gang where he could see the hills of Minnedosa, and working claims near Goldpines. His first winter in Goldpines in lived in a canvas tent until he bought an old trapper’s cabin just out of town. Despite all the airplanes in the bay at Goldpines a canoe was still an important part of the north. Dad worked as a cook in a camp to help feed the travelers on Lac Seul on their way north to Red Lake. He also travelled with the company by canoe on prospecting expeditions into lakes further north—Bluffy Lake, Confederation Lake, Woman Lake.

After the crash of 29 he snowshoed from Goldpines to Amesdale to look at homesteads. Abby Lamb remembered the first time he saw Dad and a friend walking along the road in front of the farm in huge parkas. Abby said he had never seen a parka before. When Philip was relocating to Amesdale from Goldpines he paddled his two canoes down Lac Seul and then down Route Lake to the CN train line. He had just loaded his two canoes onto the train when it started to pull out. All he could do was yell “Richan”. When he got to Richan his two canoes were lying at the side of the track.

Philips’s first homestead was up Aspling’s road and then about a mile west by a trail. The homestead was on the eastern side of Amesdale, so it was closest to the Asplings, the Ruuds, and Lambs. Lawrence and Abby Lamb were like little brothers to Dad. There were trails criss crossing through the bush that they used to visit friends. To get title, homesteaders had to clear 16 acres and he had cleared about half. His sister in law from home was supposed to come to Canada and marry Dad but she never came over. He was interested in one of the Ames’ girls but she was too young. Like many bachelors in remote areas he advertised for a pen pal in the Country Guide. My mother Jean Johnston who had been teaching in rural schools in Manitoba replied and corresponded with him. His first marriage proposal was turned down but a few more months of teaching north of Carman made her change her mind. They were married in Dryden United Church in November of 1937. Their attendants were Frances Lamb Booi and Bill McKay. Evelyn Lamb held the wedding supper. Their first winter was spent in Amesdale as Dad was warned it wasn’t a good idea to take my mother who had grown up in the west end of Winnipeg to the homestead. Mother didn’t know much about subsistence living in the bush. Dad said if you wanted meat you shot a moose and if you wanted fruit you picked blueberries. Dad loved the area and the lifestyle. He probably felt fortunate he had what he had when he saw the train cars covered with the unemployed of the depression travelling through town. Mother remembered picking blueberries for 25 cents a basket. I still have the heavy quilts Mother made from carding wool which were needed on nights when water froze in the dishpan.

Dad used the money had saved from Goldpines to buy a cleared homestead three miles south from John Sumi for $100. He built a bridge over the creek to get access and was building a house. However, Mother found she couldn’t stay. She had mixed feelings as she liked the people and the surroundings but found life difficult—she said every event was a crisis. She took the train to Winnipeg not knowing what my father would do. He took a few things, left his horses with Lambs and followed her. Records show Carl Dahl took over the land in 1948.




In Winnipeg Philip worked during the war at MacDonald Aircraft and afterwards at the CNR in Transcona as a machinist for 18 years retiring in 1967. Mother taught school in Charleswood near home from 1954 to 1966. Two children, my older sister Anne and myself made up the family. He was a good chess player who represented Manitoba in a tournament in the forties. He played the odd game over the telephone and once had played by mail.

Dad was a builder. Besides building our family home from the same plans he had started to use in Amesdale, he built our cottage in the Whiteshell on Brereton Lake, a 15 foot sailboat, and then a 24 foot sailboat which he sailed on Lake of the Woods.

In retirement, he kept up with his reading, his boat navigation courses, his conversational Spanish groups, his sailing and his three granddaughters. His proudest moment was acting as a Spanish interpreter for the sailing at the 1967 Pan Am Games in Gimli. In later years heart problems slowed him down. He looked forward to daily scrabble games with my mother and his sailing biographies. He died in 1983. My mother who was nine years younger died in 1992.

I still have two important things from their life in Amesdale—his snowshoes and the battery operated radio.