Punching Above Our Weight, page 13
Canada’s military contribution to the First World War was certainly something above and beyond what anyone expected for such a small country. With just under eight million people and a pre-war military that included an under-equipped regular force of 3,000 soldiers and a poorly trained militia of 60,000, Canada was able to put into uniform nearly 620,000 soldiers and form what eventually became the finest corps formation on the Western Front.
Soldiers of the Canadian Expeditionary Force arrive in Montreal for demobilization, 1919.
Up until 1917, all of those in the CEF were volunteers. Yet a significant portion of these volunteers were born in Britain, with volunteer rates declining among the Canadian-born and dropping further within rural Canada and French Canada. Only with conscription did the ratio of Canadian-born to British-born finally reach parity. The conscripts were sorely needed too. Without them the Canadian Corps could have never kept up its tempo of operations during the Hundred Days Campaign.21 The success of the Canadian Corps was a major military achievement for such a small country, yet it came at a terrible cost. Close to 62,000 Canadians lost their lives, with more than 172,000 physically wounded and tens of thousands psychologically damaged, with almost no support system waiting for them back home. It would be no exaggeration to claim that every single community in Canada was in some way affected by the casualties sustained in this most terrible of wars.
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The war had some lasting effects for Canada’s growth as a nation. The work of the Canadian Corps certainly gained Canada a greater international reputation. From its seat in the newly created League of Nations, it harangued the nations of Europe about their violent predilections, citing peaceful North America as an example of global co-operation. As well, the military contribution of Canada became valuable rhetoric in the interwar period as both Prime Minister William Lyon Mackenzie King and Prime Minister R.B. Bennett solidified Canada’s growing independence from Britain. By 1939, Britain would not be declaring war on behalf of Canada; Canada would do it itself. At the same time, the war pushed Canada into the powerful U.S. economic orbit and kick-started the process by which Canada slowly detached itself from Great Britain.
The veterans themselves seemed to have mixed feelings about the war. Many voiced their opinion that it was a war fought for nothing and the sacrifices were in vain, especially in 1939 when war erupted once more, while others strongly believed it was a good war. Regardless of this, the large number of veterans who returned from Europe became a very powerful voting bloc that successfully lobbied the Canadian government to pass some of Canada’s first social welfare measures in the 1920s and 1930s to take better care of those who had risked everything during the conflict.
The war was fought over many ideas: the defence of Christianity and civilization, coming to the aid of Belgium, capturing or recapturing historically important territory, stopping an aggressive Germany, and in some cases, simply a feud between rival dynastic houses. The Entente won but at the cost of millions of people. For what? A more stable geopolitical environment? The League of Nations that was created in the war’s aftermath to do just that was impotent from almost day one. Was it to create a more peaceful world order? If so, it totally failed. Numerous smaller wars erupted in the aftermath of the First World War. And, of course, the heavy reparation payments and peace terms imposed upon Germany would be central to the propaganda of Adolf Hitler. Was it to create a more stable and strong global economy? The Great Depression that started in 1929 and only really ended in 1939 wrecked any hope of that.
Simply put, the war to end all wars was the first of two catastrophic total global industrial conflicts to rock the world in the 20th century. The First World War became an important part of a growing notion of Canadian identity and certainly helped fashion a sense of “Canadianness.” However, such a perception was heavily dependent on whether one was French- or English-speaking. Nevertheless, the death of so many was a cautionary tale about the tragedy of blindly going to war.
When war was once again declared in 1939, there were no jubilant celebrations in the streets but a resigned acceptance that young men and women would be called upon to make great sacrifices. Regardless, while the shadow of the Great War loomed large in Canada in 1939, the country still rose to the challenge and went beyond even its most optimistic expectations to sacrifice its youth on the altar of the goddess of war.
5
The Interwar Years
The Canada that First World War veterans returned to was quite different from the one they left behind. Many were shocked and angered over the government recently passing prohibition, a decidedly unpopular measure among soldiers for whom alcohol had been a constant feature of daily life. Many veterans also came back carrying the deadly Spanish flu, which spread rapidly throughout Canada, eventually claiming upward of 50,000 Canadian lives and killing more globally than the war itself.
Canada was in serious economic trouble. The collapse of the wheat and munitions industries resulted in a punishing postwar recession. Workers across the country felt they had sacrificed their rights in the name of the war effort and now demanded the government return the favour by helping to increase wages and improve working conditions. Yet a recession meant unemployment and jobs became scarce. At the same time, the cost of living in Canada had risen by 64 percent thanks to near-runaway inflation during the war. Throw into this mix the return of hundreds of thousands of veterans expecting preferential treatment in what jobs were available and the tension was close to boiling over.
Strikes and riots had already been flaring up in 1918, but it was in Winnipeg in May 1919 that the anger and frustration over the postwar landscape in Canada reached a fever pitch. A city-wide general strike led to weeks of violent conflict between strikers, joined by recently returned veterans, and government forces, including a private strikebreaking force hired by the city elites and made up also of recently returned veterans. Several deaths, dozens of wounded, numerous arrests, deportations, and veterans fighting veterans characterized the Winnipeg General Strike.1 The chaos finally subsided by late June with promises of a Royal Commission to investigate the causes of the strike and the violence that ensued. While the Canadian government and Winnipeg business elites feared a Bolshevik revolution, the Royal Commission found that the objectives of the strikers were not revolutionary, and the Canadian public was shocked when the commission laid bare the heavy-handedness of the government’s response. The pandemonium of the Winnipeg General Strike led to the collapse of Borden’s coalition Union government and characterized a tense and hostile mood in postwar Canada.2
Life for many veterans was difficult upon their return to Canada. Most received their hard-earned yet meagre pay along with a clothing allowance and a war service gratuity determined by where they served and the length of service. There were also preferential job-hiring programs within the civil service, as well as government help for the purchase of agricultural land. For those with physical injuries, a small pension was paid out. For those who were visible minorities or who were suffering from psychological trauma, their ability to be compensated was a longer and far more difficult road.
Battle lines are drawn during the Winnipeg General Strike, June 21, 1919.
As the postwar economic crisis worsened, many veterans argued that the benefits available were simply not adequate. Physically disabled veterans engaged in a constant battle with the government for improvements to their disability pensions. Effectively, the pension amount was determined based on the percentage of disability — 5 percent up to 100 percent disabled — coupled with rank during service. Yet the pension program was fraught with problems, not the least of which was the low payment amounts. Extensive lobbying by veteran groups saw payments improve throughout the 1920s and 1930s.
For most veterans, the process of reintegration into civilian life relied on the support of the government and that assistance, they argued, was an ongoing process, not a one-time cash payout. The negotiations for support did not conclude in 1919, despite the government’s attempts to make it so. Veteran calls for help were framed in terms of a contract between the government and its citizens who had expressed the utmost loyalty by going to war on its behalf. Effectively, veterans argued that they were in no way seeking handouts or charity but were owed social support services by the government as recognition of their sacrifices.3
The most powerful organization continuously lobbying for veteran rights was the Royal Canadian Legion, formed in 1925 from an amalgamation of a variety of veterans’ associations. Efforts by the legion and other veterans’ groups spearheaded several social welfare initiatives during the interwar period. By 1919, tens of thousands of soldiers were receiving free vocational training in over 150 different occupations. In 1920, the government passed legislation providing preferential rates for veterans purchasing life insurance. By the early 1920s, nearly 100,000 veterans were receiving free medical care. When the Great Depression struck in 1929, much of the rhetoric from veterans’ advocacy groups revolved around the issue of unemployment. Veterans receiving “relief” from the government were able to successfully advocate for a change from the term “relief” to “unemployment assistance” and were given cash instead of vouchers.
While initially only for veterans or their dependents, some of these initiatives were eventually expanded to include all Canadians. Issues regarding pension payments, unemployment protection, health insurance, affordable housing, and access to education were all part of the veterans’ agenda, and small yet notable gains were made in every category. The social reform advocacy of veterans during the interwar period played an important role in some of the early discussions and initial successes in changes to welfare state policy in Canada.4
The Royal Canadian Legion was also instrumental in helping to cement one of the most enduring myths from the First World War — that the Battle of Vimy Ridge was a nation-building moment. Among those communities affected by the war, there was widespread support for memorial activities. Across the land, cenotaphs and memorials were erected to the dead. From Victoria, British Columbia, to the colony of Newfoundland, cenotaphs became the recognized form to mourn the loss of so many, and many communities now shared in that collective grief embodied in November 11 — Armistice Day.
These commemoration efforts were a sombre yet poignant method by which the country collectively dealt with the trauma of the war. While this grassroots commemoration movement gained momentum, the Canadian government, the public, and veterans’ organizations all clamoured for a European memorial to honour those Canadian soldiers killed in the war to end all wars. There were four locations considered: the area near Ypres, the battlefield close to Courcelette, Vimy Ridge, and, finally, Canal du Nord, Arthur Currie’s personal preference for a national memorial.
Vimy, frankly, was a contested choice. In fact, Currie himself wrote about the possibility of placing a monument at Vimy Ridge and stated: “If they place the memorial at Vimy, it will confirm for all time the impression that Vimy was the greatest battle fought by the Canadians in France. In my mind that is very far from being a fact. Vimy was a set-piece for which we had trained and rehearsed for weeks. It did not call for the same degree of resource and initiative that were displayed in any of the three greatest battles of the last hundred days.”5 Currie did recognize, though, that the heights of Vimy Ridge would make an impressive setting for a Canadian memorial. He was not the only one who was unsure about Vimy being the appropriate site; many veterans and politicians agreed with him.
It was Prime Minister William Lyon Mackenzie King (who did not serve during the war and had never visited the battlefield) who believed that Vimy was, indeed, hallowed ground and spearheaded Vimy’s transition into a myth-making moment.6 Under King’s direction, Vimy was officially chosen as the site of the great Canadian memorial in Europe. The Canadian government purchased some of the land that encompassed the battlefield, while the French government ceded 284 acres to Canada. This ensured Canadian control of the portion of the ridge that now bears the memorial, roughly the area of the 4th Division’s attack. Walter Seymour Allward was selected to design and oversee the construction of the memorial, and by 1925, construction on the monument began. The stone chosen was, in fact, pulled from the same quarry used by Diocletian, the late third-century/early fourth-century Roman emperor, to construct his own palace.
By the early 1930s, as work on the monument continued, the Canadian Legion started to plan a massive pilgrimage to Vimy centred around the unveiling of Allward’s memorial. The unveiling date was set for Dominion Day, July 1, 1936, despite the fact that no one consulted with Allward himself. The sculptor was now presented with a very real deadline, though the unveiling had to be moved to July 26 to accommodate all interested parties. Massive subsidies for travel as well as extensive organization by the Canadian government, the legion, charitable donations, and even the private sector (Eaton’s was a major donor) allowed 6,200 veterans and their families to travel to Europe. The group included 50 nursing sisters, 70 French Canadians, and even a few Japanese-Canadian veterans. As well, in attendance would be Albert Lebrun, the French president, and none other than King Edward VIII. The unveiling went off without a hitch, but the pilgrimage for many veterans was not just about the Vimy unveiling; most sought to return to many of the spots they had fought at decades earlier. For the public, however, it was the Vimy unveiling that encapsulated the pilgrimage. The Battle of Vimy Ridge and its monument now stood as the key symbol of Canada’s First World War experience.
While excitement over the Vimy pilgrimage temporarily shone the spotlight on Canada’s military achievements, the interwar period witnessed the branches of Canada’s armed forces decline to nearly an unusable state. Prime Minister King, who politically dominated much of the interwar period, had no love for the military, which was reflected in his government’s budget priorities. During its first administration in the early 1920s, King’s government merged the various military branches — the Air Board, the Department of Militia and Defence, and the Department of Naval Services — into the Department of National Defence. And then King began making cuts. Defence spending fell from $30 million to as low as $13 million, and just as King began to open the coffers, the Great Depression hit. Even Prime Minister Bennett, the unlucky Conservative Party leader who beat King in 1930, found no room in his retrenchment policy for military spending.
An aerial shot of the crowd gathered for the unveiling of the Vimy monument, July 1936.
The Permanent Force (PF) and the Non-Permanent Militia (NPM) were always the backbone of the Canadian military establishment, but there was little support after 1919 for any serious enlargement of the force beyond pre-war levels. The NPM returned to its pre-war status, underfunded, undertrained, under-equipped, and understaffed, yet with a plethora of new regimental battle honours. The General Staff had hoped for a PF 30,000 strong; it got permission to recruit 5,000 and failed to hit that mark. Most Canadians simply did not have the stomach for military spending in the aftermath of the terrible cost of the First World War. Even during the brief prosperity of the 1920s, King’s Liberal government reduced the pay of PF personnel. There was some reorganization, however. Instead of one PF regiment, there would now be three: the Royal Canadian Regiment, the French-speaking Royal 22nd Regiment (the Van Doos), and the Princess Patricia’s Canadian Light Infantry. Regardless of this reorganization, the PF remained understrength for much of the 1920s, barely getting above 4,000 in all ranks.7 Still, a use was found for the army. Units were called out to maintain law and order in labour disputes in Winnipeg, Manitoba; Cape Breton, Nova Scotia; and Stratford, Ontario. The PF operated the Northwest Territories and Yukon Radio System, which brought modern communication connections to the far corners of the country. The PF was also used to run labour camps during the Depression.
The brainchild of Andrew McNaughton, upward of 170,000 young men were recruited into these labour camps and paid 20 cents per day to work on public projects and defence infrastructure. The poor conditions of these camps coupled with the low pay and military-esque environment led to growing disgruntlement and an eventual protest trek to Ottawa. When the “trekkers,” as they were called, arrived in Regina, they were prevented from going any farther. Riots broke out, violence ensued, and the whole fiasco became a blight on Prime Minister R.B. Bennett’s Conservative administration. McNaughton was quietly removed as Chief of the General Staff, and King’s Liberals returned to power championing the slogan “King not Chaos.” Little changed for the military under the returned Liberals. Continual cuts to the defence budget meant the Permanent Force and Non-Permanent Militia were effectively reduced to just below their 1913 levels.
The Royal Canadian Air Force (RCAF) was the newest and arguably most exciting of the branches. During the First World War, more than 22,000 residents of Canada served in Britain’s Royal Flying Corps and its successor, the Royal Air Force. That meant there was a body of skilled pilots who came back to Canada after the war from which a national air force could very well be created. A two-squadron Canadian Air Force was, in fact, formed in England in late 1918, disbanded in 1919, then reformed in 1920 as a non-permanent air force, the equivalent of a militia for the air. Two years later it achieved permanent status and was granted the royal honorific in 1923.
Air power had matured rapidly during the Great War, and many believed it would come to define the next conflict. Some, like McNaughton, believed the RCAF, not the Royal Canadian Navy (RCN), should be the first line of defence against attack. As well, the RCAF was given full responsibility for all aviation in Canada, including civil. This gave it a unique relevance among the branches of the military; RCAF pilots flew forest fire patrols, aerial surveying missions, anti-smuggling operations, and even crop-dusting.8 Yet, like its sister services, it suffered from the ups and downs of Canada’s economic fortunes, and while the 1930s saw the RCAF move from a civil-military function to a purely military one, abandoning its responsibility for civil aviation, it also witnessed the air force suffer under continual budget cuts.
