Lest we forget: a local boy's story

Stanley Royal was a young man in 1914. He grew up on the Sixth Line, south of County Road 9 and west of Creemore. As he was out of work he enlisted with the 48th Highlanders under Col. J.A. Currie. On his return home after the Armistice he spent many evenings with his neighbours, Frank and Alice Webster, recounting his experiences. They compiled his accounts of the war and made a typed copy.

Last year in November I wrote of his enlistment, trip across the Atlantic, and the enthusiastic welcome give to Stanley and his comrades in England. He was in England for a time, training on the Salisbury Plains near Stonehenge. We begin today with his description of his trip to France.

“When we embarked at Birkenhead going to France we went around by the Bay of Biscay to avoid submarines and landed at Saint-Nazaire. It was a frightfully rough trip in an old CPR cattle boat called the Mount Temple.

“We were all sick. As the boat rolled and took nose dives, we were pitched from side to side, unable to help ourselves. Someone said, ‘Let her go down, she doesn’t belong to me.’ This raised the only laugh we had on the trip.

“The machine guns and mules were on the upper deck. The guns and lifeboats were swept overboard and some of the boats went ashore. When they were found, our boat was reported lost. We were four days making the journey.

“At Saint-Nazaire we were loaded onto some little boxcars and were packed in so tightly that some of us had to stand to let others lie down and try to sleep.

“We were on that train four days making the trip to Hazebrouck, where we detrained and remained overnight, being billeted in a piggery. Next morning we marched four miles to Castres. Here we were billeted in a barn for two days.

“From there we marched 17 miles in new Kitchener army boots over cobblestones to Armentières. That was one of the hardest marches we ever had. When we got within half-a-mile of Armentières, there was a railing along an embankment, and the men, staggering under heavy packs, dumped them over the rail to roll down the bank. Here we were billeted in a cow barn.

“We remained [in this area] until we were taken to the Ypres salient in April.”

Royal goes on to describe the organization of the various Canadian brigades. The battle with the Germans at Ypres was one of the First World War’s famous battles and was disastrous for the Canadians. He continues describing what happened at Ypres.

“The first day was uneventful. We further consolidated our parapets with sandbags. The trenches were only half manned. The ground was low and swampy. The trenches could not be dug more than a foot deep and at that point there was water in them. We had to creep from one parapet to the next, about 50 or 60 feet apart.

“On April 22 we saw the greenish yellow fog coming towards us. This was the gas attack. Along with it came a heavy bombardment of artillery from the German front. It was the gas that played havoc with us. We all felt the smothering, deadening effect of it. We soaked our handkerchiefs in the trench water and held them over our faces. It was of some help.”

At first the Canadians were able to repulse the German attack but in a day the Canadians were under fire from both the front and the flanks. There was no communication from headquarters. Brigadier General Turner was eight or ten miles away and wasn’t aware of what was happening or able to give orders, leaving Royal’s group open to fire. On the third day of battle Royal and a fellow soldier were out guiding back wounded parties. Before they got back the bombardment began. They had to dive into a shell hole. After a time the men made it back to headquarters.

Royal tells of his feelings. “I was so depressed with gas that I did not want to be disturbed. I felt that death would be welcome. However, my pals didn’t take that view of it and helped me back to a dressing station. There, after a spell of vomiting, I felt better and made my way back to where the straggling units of the 15th were gathering together by ones and twos in a hedged enclosure. We had starved for 50 hours. We were blackened with the effects of gas. We were sick, bedraggled, worn-out men who didn’t care whether we lived or not.

“When Col. Currie arrived to join his men and saw the dilapidated handful that remained of his fine battalion, he broke down. He and Major Marshall were the only officers left.

“In our company only 13 remained. Every officer was a casualty. Only 90 of our battalion were left to answer roll call. There were over 900 casualties in the battalion.”