A captured German officer was quoted as saying, “The British, they are good soldiers, but the Canadians, they are madmen.” Haig reported the Canadians were “really fine disciplined soldiers now and so smart and clean.” The majority of British generals agreed the Canadian Corps was one of the Empire’s utmost disciplined militaries. A show by cloak-and-dagger was arranged by Foch. The King’s truest force, the Corps, was to spearhead the operation. The Corps would lead the Allied assault of all battles the remainder of the duration. Fighting alongside Canadian troops would be the next finest Allied armies, the British Divisions, the 5th and 13th, along with the Anzacs. The Canadians were sent to the Ypres region. Foch then mischievously repurposed the Corps southward to fox the enemy.
Currie chose to forgo the regular precursory artillery bombardment. The English queried their star general on two inducements due to sheer ambition of his design for the coming fray. Since May, Currie had his Corps groomed to face open warfare so as to bring about an end to static fighting. Before the secretive show, along with his paybook, each Canadian Tommy was given a note that read, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT. The Corps was given the most difficult position of the operation.
The initial day of the campaign was August 8th. “The Eighth of the Eighth” was headed by the Corps’ battle cry, “Llandovery Castle.” The assault began at 0420 hours and, through thick fog, the lads overtook Marcelcave village. Next came Pieuret Wood, which they had to drive hard for. Afterwards was Wiencourt, where the 26th’s band piped in front of their fellows, and then Guillaucourt. Southwards from these locations, the 1st Division captured Hangard Wood, Demuin, Croates Trench, the little village of Caix, as well as bridges. The 3rd Division was given the uttermost perilous objective: taking Amiens-Roye road then reaching the other side of Luce River. Courcelles was taken and then Mézières. Aided with tanks, Hill 102 was captured by Highlanders. Lord Strathcona’s Horse and the Royal Canadian Dragoons charged Fresnoy-en-Chaussée, and in Fresnoy, one hundred and twenty-five enemies were made prisoners. Only one aim remained uncaptured on the 8th: Le Quesnel. Four hundred Prisoners of War and forty machine guns were claimed by the 58th. Nine hundred Prisoners of War were taken by the 16th. One of the 16th’s bagpipers was instructed by an Officer to play “The Drunken Piper” as their fellows overran machine guns, mortars, and enemy trenches. Eighty machine guns were claimed by the 10th.
The first day of the campaign proved the most championed for the Allied Forces of the duration. They almost succeeded in collapsing the entire German front. The Corps was utterly the source of Commander-in-Chief Ludendorff’s statement, “August 8th was the black day of the German Army in the history of the war.” The Corps drove thirteen kilometers through enemy territory. Of the Corps’ Allies, the Anzacs sliced eleven, the French eight, and the English five. The following day, the Corps sliced a further six kilometers: more than any other army. Canadian casualties were made to wait up to a full day before they received medical treatment, during which time any number bled out from loss of blood or died from shock. In one location, forty rail cars held wounded members of the Corps. Not a soul was available to train them to hospital. The battle for Amiens lasted from August 8th to August 14th. Canada was granted ten Victoria Crosses, along with three thousand further decorations. The Corps was responsible for more than nine thousand prisoners, two hundred guns, one hundred and fifty trench mortars, and seven hundred and fifty machine guns. The enemy retrenched multiple kilometers.
The Canadians took Amiens, after which Ludendorff thought to consider an agreement. The enemy was billowing her flag at full force, undulating in whiteness, rather than bleeding so. Nevertheless, German replacements surged forth, thwarting enemy advancement. Allied guns fell out of distance of striking infantry, causing enormous dismay. The smash became grinding, unsuitable, and toilsome.
Foch ordered the Corps to return to Arras. Byng and Currie were allotted three months to plan Vimy Ridge. Currie was allowed one month to plan Hill 70, and Passchendaele, less than a fortnight. The Canadian military had become a competent and skillful army, necessitating less preparation, over time, before heading into battle. Even so, High Command extended four days to Currie to plot the forthcoming campaign: a battle that was the same grandeur of Vimy. However, the Corps officers had something of a mock-up already written down to aid them for such a battle. A surplus of guns or tanks could not be allotted as they were needed for other armies, though British tanks would aid the Corps. At disadvantage to Canada would be the impossibility of startling the enemy, since days of hard fighting had already ensued. Thus, the foe was entirely aware of the Corps’ presence in the area. Nonetheless, Canadian Tommies were rested and in gay spirits. The initial success of the present campaign substantially aided the morale of the troops. The Corps was to attack the grandest exigent she had yet seen of the Western Front. Canada was to execute a matter of exceptional gravity in front of the world for the principal moment in her history.
The whole of Germany’s military retreated to its final residence. The Hindenburg Line was the extraordinary cardinal barrier of the German army. The enemy had not constructed a greater secured bastion. Opposite the Canadian front, the Hindenburg Line consisted of thirty kilometers worth of trenches: double the depth along all other Allied fronts.
Behind the Hindenburg line, the infamous Drocourt-Quéant Line, a formidable defensive position, would be the most challenging fray the Corps would see. A German Prisoner of War disclosed to the Canadians who detained him, “The Drocourt-Quéant Line is to be held at all costs.” Of the war in its entirety, the grandest set-piece penetration into enemy lines, consisting of nearly the largest number of German soldiers and machine-gunners the Allies would ever face, fell to the Canadians when they pushed through the Drocourt-Quéant Line. The Corps’ unexpected conquest of Drocourt-Quéant was superior to that of Vimy. Aided by a British division, the Corps penetrated ten kilometers of the most fortified trench system of the Western front. The smash would remain the grandest set-piece assault the Corps would claim and a masterpiece victory of the British Forces.
Seven Victoria Crosses were awarded to the Corps the day the line fell on September 2nd; the majority were granted to lone troops who assaulted machine-gun nests. More than ten thousand prisoners, more than one hundred and twenty artillery guns, ninety-nine trench mortars, and more than an extraordinary nine hundred and twenty machine guns were taken. The greatest fighting exploit in the annals of the Canadian nation stands unsurpassed in the entire war, wrote one British newspaper. Currie was cabled a message from Byng, smashing of the Quéant-Drocourt Line was the turning point in the campaign. Currie exclaimed the breaching of the line, “One of the finest feats in our (Canada’s) history.” By September, the four divisions of the Corps were each being led by a Canadian-born Major-General.
Commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Bishop, The Canadian Air Force came into foundation in autumn. Although the Canadian Air Force was separate from the Royal Air Force in paper only, Canadian names Billy Bishop, Raymond Collishaw, Donald MacLaren, and Billy Barker were commonplace in every corner of the Empire. Of the twenty-seven grandest ranking Empire aces, ten were Canadian. By war’s end, the Red Baron had 80 confirmed kills, France’s René Fonck would lead the Allies with 75 kills, and Canada’s native-born son, from Owen Sound, Ontario, William Avery Bishop, pet named “Hell’s Handmaiden” by the foe, would lead the British Empire with 72 kills.
The enemy was floundering. Her allies were deserting. The possibility of a resolution between the opposing sides had vanished. The Allies were driving all quarters and progressing on all fronts. Advancements made were measured in kilometers and not yards.
Aubrey’s trifle summer cough persisted to an autumn cold. She had a consistent headache and burning of the eyes. She had a nosebleed that did not quite cease. When she began to bleed from the ears, she had Musgrove check her. Along with her lack of appetite was a loss of stones. No longer able to wear her wedding bands, she toiled with them while Musgrove asked for other symptoms. He explained that he, as well as numerous associates of his, had been treating patients for a specific harsh cold these previous weeks. The first death only recently occurred in Quebec City.
While she fiddled with the engagement ring, she noticed an engraving. There was an inscription carved on the inside band. She was uncertain if her translation of the words was correct and, given his medical background, she asked Musgrove if he knew the meaning. Musgrove furrowed his brow in puzzlement. He answered, “You are correct, Mrs. Richardieux. The inscription is definitely Latin. Latin is the most romantic language, because the words are dead. That is to say, the meaning of the words can never change or alter, much like the inscription itself. It reads: Ever Thine, Ever Mine, Ever Ours, Beethoven’s words to his immortal beloved, whose name was tragically lost to history. When I ascend to Heaven, I shall like to know her name, along with many other questions I would have answered.” Musgrove’s last words were laced with venom and fury from informing so many of his young patients that they should take the Last Rights. The virus was mainly attacking the young and able of a shattered Canada.
Something to live for! Auré did love her! Somehow, Aubrey had never realized this. As though a light shone brightly in her eyes, everything became startlingly clear about their marriage. She thought, In Regina, he took me to socials regularly, and he does not even like socializing. He must have done so because it made me happy. Perhaps, at some point, he had wanted to tell me he loved me. The Mounted ball, the night he enlisted, the day he left for the front, and the Red Cross fundraiser ball immediately came to mind. He must have always took my indifference for simply that! Indifference! Had I known he loved me, I never would have been unfaithful! How could I not have known?! Auré must have felt so hurt from having to socialize with Lawrence! How could I have hurt him so? Auré did everything he could to keep Peter away from me because he knew all along Peter was not a good person! How could I have done what I did with Peter?!
Emmett always said what a man needed to hear from his wife, more than anything, was that she was proud of him. Had Auré ever heard so much? Oh! What she would give to have him back. What if he did not love her anymore? After everything he had been made to endure in their marriage, his love certainly seemed to have changed to disinterest. Perhaps a letter to him might be sent and everything could be laid bare. But the probability of him surviving grew smaller each passing day.
The Minister of Militia, Sydney Mewburn, gave reason to believe one hundred and twenty thousand more conscripts were required. Married men, ages twenty to thirty-four, would be made to answer the call. French Canadians accounted for less than one in four conscripts, a glaring vexation to the other side. Solely following the toughest push, and a favourable result made clear in a battle, did Military Service Agreement men see action.
Alas! What links of love that morn has war’s rude hand asunder torn208, Aubrey thought in regard to her husband. Surely, he would be killed. Nearly all her male companions had been. The current campaign was so profound; that he had lasted this length of time was remarkable. She wondered if there was anything left worth fighting for at all. She vowed Lawrence would never set foot on Pembina henceforth. Never again would she attend an event with Lawrence present, if Auré wanted that. Perhaps they could forgive one another for all the affairs and start anew.
She had ruined the reputation of almost every aristocratic family in the city. What little ties he had to his family he severed completely to fight. She thought, There must be something for Auré to return to, other than a ruined reputation — all because of my callous nature — and an — empty manor. She could possibly perish from her malady before he even returned. A person could be gone hours after contracting the flu. Atonement must be made!
From Amiens to Arras, which was a trench system, the Corps was well-nigh fractured. The yet-unfinished Canal du Nord was the next objective and would be the second hardest show for the Corps over the course of the war. “Very furthest we can go,” was what Ludendorff said of the Canal. It held the Hindenburg Line together in its entirety. Currie wanted to assault the area: a stronghold the Allies had not previously considered to assault. The proposal was so dauntless and bold, Haig had to abrogate the Army Commander to allow Currie to carry on. Currie’s four divisions alone would face twelve enemy divisions and thirteen machine-gun companies.
Byng visited Currie himself in the days before the battle. Byng asked of his former protégé, “Old man, do you think you can do it?” Currie agreed he could.
Lieutenant-General Currie penned in his diary, Granted our fellows are in the right mood for a scrap, and all the devils in hell cannot stay them.
At the end of September, the Corps was funneled through a two thousand six-hundred-yard dry section of the Canal. Should the enemy catch them as they went through the dry section, the lads, with the most seasoned veterans in the lead, would be annihilated. After the initial phase of the assault, they were to spread out over ten thousand yards to overtake the position. The front in its entirety was assaulted in the largest unaccompanied day attack of the duration. Aided by the British, the Hindenburg Line was handsomely shattered. The breaking of the spine of the Hindenburg Line was another major grievance for the foe, as it provided war material and reserves to the whole of the region.
Without federal government, relief organizations, doctors or nurses — most of whom were over there — in September, the expeditious dilemma of Influenza had Ottawa Mayor Fisher send out word to the civilians of his city, “They are not dying because we do not know about them. We know where they are, but we have nobody to send. Knitting socks for soldiers is very useful work, but we are now asking the women of Ottawa to get into the trenches themselves.”
All capable women were called on to aid. Fifteen hundred responded. The depleted police force also assisted by hauling and chopping wood for fires. All churches, schools, theatres, and concert halls, along with the University and all settings of “public gathering,” were ordered to close. Stores were made to close by three or four in the afternoon. By mid-month, Ottawa saw thousands of patients.
Aubrey knew not how to run a convalescent hospital, but she did know someone who could. Few residences owned a telephone, though perhaps he did. She rung for the operator. All lines were still. No one took her call: too many telephone employees were ill. Formal calling required an ornate frock. She donned trousers. She had never seen the streets of Ottawa so deserted. Citizens were not allowed to meet in groupings of a handful or more. Shaking hands had become illegal. Streetcars were treated daily with disinfectant. None were manned anyhow. The conductors were all down with the flu.
So many Service Flags hung in windows. Seemingly countless had red or gold leaves. Posters featured a sinking Allied ship and a descending enemy submarine. A solider held an unconscious Bluebird in the waters. The man’s fist shook in the air. The life buoy the man clung to read, Llandovery Castle. The caption stated, Victory Bonds will help stop this.
A sole Dominion Officer halted her. She was embarrassed to be seen in the presence of a man with either of her legs on each side of her thoroughbred. By the end of the decade, ladies were permitted to ride the same as their cavalier counterparts.
Through his surgical mask he exclaimed, “Madam, you cannot be here! Where is your lady’s maid? Make haste!” A lone ambulance siren was heard in the background. She rode onwards to Sandy Hill. The peeling of church bells indicated yet another funeral. The practice would stop for the duration of the virus due to the sheer volume of deaths in the city.
Once at his residence, because she did not have a footman or a lady’s maid with her, Aubrey did something she was not certain she had done prior. She knocked on the front door. An upper maid, who had replaced the footmen, answered. An incredulous Kellynch met her in the front parlour. Kellynch agreed to help her turn Pembina into a convalescent hospital.
Pembina’s tennis courts were converted first. Their pristine lawn was no more. Blood and surgical tools upon her silver trays, which had been in her family for generations, lay commonplace. Protective masks were worn by all on the grounds. From workers being sick, they had to wait for trains to transport the wounded. Then, they came by the multitudes.
After four years of attrition, the war had turned to one of locomotion. Every sector of the front saw the enemy army falling back. The foe of ever-advantage was losing morale, on the verge of collapse, and defending a starving Germany from British blockade. The Corps claimed one stunning victory after another by taking Bourlon village, Bourlon Wood, which looked down on Canal du Nord. Then the Corps captured the villages of Rallencourt and Sailly, Cambrai, a crucial railway network and management area, and Canal de la Sensée. Canadian Tommies penned, The devil himself cannot stop us!… One cannot stay in place or be shot dead, but going forward one will assuradely be cut to ribbons… Take down all the Frtizie’s possible but others in my battalion are showing restraint and treating our prisoners with due care… My chance to defend Canada! The Corps was capturing so many prisoners, guns, strongholds, and villages that the Allies styled the One Hundred Days campaign of the war as “Canada’s Hundred Days.” In response, “The Last Post” trumpeted relentlessly. The thrashed Corps saw one hundred sons fall per day.