Muleskinner

Canada at the beginning of the 20th century was an extremely ordered society. In 1914, loyalty to the British Crown was not just a social requirement: along with serving the Creator, it was, for many people, one of the fundamental guiding influences of daily life. The resulting social pressures for enlistment in the early part of the war were so strong that, in most parts of English Canada, there was scarcely any need for coercion of any sort. It is clear from the first chapter of War Interlude that these social pressures, rather than any grander aspirations, were what propelled Driver Hesler through the door. Why he got entangled is the easy question. This book has attempted to answer the question, “What was it like?”. The etching which appears on the cover of this book was drawn from a New York Times article whose title poses an even more difficult one: “Was it worth it?” It is gratuitous and facile to write off Canada’s share of the human cost of the war to “nation building”. That is surely not the answer to the question. The search for a Canadian identity is not over yet if we have to look in places like Vimy Ridge to find it. Looking beyond the hackneyed symbols it left us with, the war probably did more to retard Canada’s development as a nation than to promote it. Every country in Europe was crippled by the war, and destruction of property made up only a small part of the loss. By the same logic, a young country, even one which suffered no physical damage, is not made stronger when a significant percentage of its productive population—including a disproportionate number of those with higher education—are killed or maimed. Nor is the unity of a country encouraged when conscription for service in a foreign conflict causes a profound rift along language lines which is still being exploited today by those who would break up the country. In attempting to answer the question of whether the things Canadian soldiers did in the war were worth the cost, the assessment should examine what they accomplished on the ground, without attempting to measure ethereal things like nationalistic sentiment, which is a commodity of dubious value anyway. Perhaps the right question to ask is whether Canada’s participation in the war made any real difference in the outcome. But “outcome” is a term which, in the peculiar circumstances of the first world war, is fraught with its own controversies. Early in this book the point was made that, in contrast with the second world war, it is hard to characterize the first one as a struggle between good and evil. If, with the passage of time, the outcome came to be described as an Allied victory over the Central Powers, it is not self-evident that it was the good guys who won, particularly since the stupidity of the Allies was as much to blame for starting the war as the stupidity of the other guys. Moreover, if victory it was, it was pyrrhic, because it helped create the circumstances which spawned the horrors that began to simmer a decade or so later. For this reason, perhaps the only yardstick by which to justly measure anyone’s efforts in the first world war is the extent to which they shortened it. Whatever can be said for the attrition inflicted on the Germans at Vimy or during the final round at Passchendaele, it is clear that the end of the war was hastened by the success of the Canadian spearhead in the assaults of the last hundred days. During that period, 70,000 Canadian troops accomplished more in terms of territorial gains, towns and villages liberated, and German soldiers and weapons captured than 500,000 Americans were able to account for. This is not to take anything away from the Americans, without whose ballast the Allied ship might have floundered in March and April, 1918. But, even after the failure of the German offensive, practically everyone, from muleskinner to Prime Minister, never thought that the war would be over by the end of the year. In a scathing criticism of his country’s military and political leaders, the British author of Haig’s Command describes the Canadian Corps as by far the most effective fighting unit on the Allied side and Currie as the most successful Allied general of the war. Winter attributes the Canadian success to a number of factors. Among these are the esprit de corps created first by Byng and then Currie, the ability of Currie to pick and motivate competent senior officers, a preoccupation with careful training, and a willingness to innovate. In this latter respect, Winter finds that the only army equal to the Canadians was the Germans’. In contrast, he portrays the British forces as badly-led, poorly trained, unmotivated and stuck in their ways. So, in the context of a people who had no real choice in the matter, the sacrifices made by Canadians were worth it. They made a difference. Under less resourceful and determined leadership, there might very well have been just as many Canadian casualties, but far less, or even nothing, to show for it in terms of bringing the war to its end.