Punching Above Our Weight, page 14
“Trekkers” boarding freight cars to Ottawa, June 1935.
However, no branch deteriorated like the RCN. By 1918, there was a Canadian fleet of 130 small coastal patrol vessels under the command of the British Admiralty. Almost all these ships were converted fishing vessels, primarily trawlers and drifters. But this navy of small ships was disbanded quickly after November 1918 and a Canadian navy struggled to survive after that.
The story of the Canadian navy’s fight for survival in the interwar period was intimately connected to the work of Commodore Walter Hose. One of the more important figures in Canadian naval history, Hose was literally born at sea. He first served with the Royal Navy before seeking promotion within the newly established Royal Canadian Navy. Hose was appointed captain of the HMCS Rainbow in 1911 and eventually rose to the position of director of the Naval Service in 1921. That same year saw three Canadian vessels, nearly the entire RCN fleet, sail to Costa Rica to strong-arm that nation into giving in to the Royal Bank of Canada’s oil concessions.9 Later that year, King’s Liberals won the federal election, and to deal with a global recession combined with the spirit of peace that emanated after the signing of the 1921 Washington Treaty, King began to cut spending. The naval budget dropped from its modest $2.5 million to $1.5 million where it remained for years to come.
The Canadian delegation at the London Naval Conference, 1930. Left to right: Walter Hose, J.L. Ralston, Lester B. Pearson, and Major H.W. Brown.
Hose’s navy was reduced to two destroyers and four minesweepers, and he was forced to cut personnel while closing both the Royal Naval College and the Youth Training facility. To give the navy a national footprint, Hose did create the Royal Canadian Naval Volunteer Reserve, though it struggled to reach its full complement of 500 personnel. A late 1920s economic upsurge combined with a Liberal majority in the 1926 federal election led to an increase in naval spending. Emboldened by this new confidence, Commodore Hose was able to get the government to agree to Canada’s first-ever national naval policy. This was the first time Canadian naval policy was dictated by Ottawa and not London.10 He also secured a small but modern fleet of six destroyers and four minesweepers. The late 1920s was a time of great optimism for the RCN: Hose’s position was retitled Chief of the Naval Staff, he had secured for Canada its own national naval policy, and it seemed as if a small but modern fleet was on its way.
The first two destroyers sailed into Halifax in 1931 — HMCS Saguenay and Skeena. Canada even found itself sending two ships to El Salvador to protect British interests in the region when that country fell into political chaos. Yet the early 1930s saw Canada falling deeper into the throes of the Great Depression. This time it was the Conservative government under R.B. Bennett that looked to cut expenses, with Hose’s navy at the top of the list. Hose was not helped by Andrew McNaughton, who believed that the future of coastal defence lay in air power, not sea power. With Bennett wanting to slash expenses, and McNaughton no friend of the navy, a proposal was put forward to scrap the RCN altogether! Hose fought tenaciously to save it and save it he did. Instead of the proposed $2 million cut, the navy’s budget was reduced by $200,000. The navy survived but just barely.11
While Canada’s military was reduced to pauperism, Canada’s First World War achievements and sacrifices became a springboard to greater autonomy for Canada within the British Empire. No doubt political leaders such as King were loyal to the British Empire, but many questioned the nature by which Canada was automatically pulled into such a devastating conflict. For King in particular, the war had shattered communities and families across the land and nearly ripped the nation’s “two solitudes” of English and French apart. Canada’s war effort had to count for something in the postwar world. Certainly, the country’s seat in the rather powerless League of Nations was part of this new postwar identity, but for King, Canada’s role within the British Empire had to be reassessed.
King’s predecessor, Robert Borden, had already started the process by securing London’s acceptance of Resolution IX. In 1922, however, when Great Britain and the empire almost went to war with Turkey over the port city of Chanak, King shocked London when he declared Canada would not automatically send military support without approval from Canada’s Parliament first. The crisis passed before Parliament had to make that unprecedented decision. In 1923, King once again asserted Canadian autonomy when he authorized the negotiation and signing of the Halibut Treaty with the United States, bypassing London and ignoring the protests of the British Foreign Office, which believed it was still Britain’s prerogative to negotiate trade deals on behalf of Canada.
At the 1926 Imperial Conference, King led the way in securing London’s recognition that the dominions were indeed autonomous, equal to one another, and in no way subordinate to the United Kingdom. This Balfour Declaration was followed up five years later with the signing of the Statute of Westminster, legally making Canada a fully autonomous nation within the newly titled British Commonwealth. This meant that Ottawa would now guide Canada’s international relations in trade and diplomacy, and it would be the Canadian Parliament and people deciding when Canada would next go to war.
Prime Minister William Lyon Mackenzie King (far left) at the All-German Sports Competition in Berlin, June 27, 1937.
Sadly, it would not take long for the Canadian Parliament to be faced with that terrible decision. Adolf Hitler had come to power in Germany in 1933, and slowly the dark clouds of war gathered over Europe. By 1935, Hitler had effectively ripped up the Treaty of Versailles and begun a process of full remilitarization. At the same time, his ally, Italy’s Benito Mussolini, sought to revive the imperial glories of ancient Rome and invaded Abyssinia (modern-day Ethiopia). In 1936, German forces were in Spain backing Francisco Franco’s nationalists. Despite a few dissenting voices, however, Canada was not going to interfere, and the international community had little interest in Canada’s opinions.
Canada also towed the British line and embraced appeasement. Jewish refugees fleeing the anti-Semitic Third Reich were turned away when they arrived on Canada’s shores seeking asylum. Prime Minister King even visited Berlin in 1937 and was wooed by Hitler and his Nazi goons.12 King returned to Canada convinced that Hitler was simply a patriot attempting to redress past wrongs. He was impressed by Germany’s industrial turnaround and was certain that all Hitler wanted was peace. Events in Europe proved him and so many others wrong. Hitler remilitarized the Rhineland in 1936, annexed Austria in 1937, was foolishly given the Sudetenland at the Munich Agreement of 1938, and then simply took the rest of Czechoslovakia while defensive-minded France, tepid Britain, and the neutral United States looked on.
Despite the positive feelings from his Berlin trip, King slowly realized that Hitler wanted a war and was probably going to get it. The aggressive actions of Germany, Italy, and Japan led many within Canada to call for rearmament. However, King was very aware of the potential political problems he could face if Quebec were even to sniff the possibility of another war when that could mean conscription. For King and his government, the focus would be on the defence of Canada, not on an overseas expeditionary force that might draw Canada closer to conscription and King nearer to a national crisis like the one Borden had experienced.
But events continued to unfold rapidly, and more pressure was placed on the prime minister. King reluctantly gave in and authorized the Department of National Defence to begin slowly but surely rearming, though it would not be nearly enough to prepare Canada for war. The Permanent Force of 455 officers and 3,714 other ranks would once again make up the core of an expanded wartime army. The militia, at just below its 1913 level, saw 15 divisions consolidated into half that number, most equipped with First World War weapons. Some units were merged, others were turned into tank brigades without modern tanks or mobile units and often without armoured vehicles.
After the Munich Agreement of 1938, and despite King’s emphasis on home defence, the General Staff under Major-General T.V. Anderson started secretly preparing to dispatch an oversees expeditionary force. The navy also benefited from the increase in defence spending. Several new destroyers were added, and the force doubled in size to nearly 200 officers and 1,800 other ranks. The RCAF profited the most, seeing its budget rise 10 times from 1935 to 1939. Nonetheless, when war broke out, the RCAF, like its sister services, was still wholly unprepared for the war to come. It contained 3,000 all ranks, flying mostly obsolete planes with a smattering of modern Hurricanes.
Canada, like so many other nations, had hoped for peace and gotten war. While some forward-thinking politicians and military personnel had prophesized the violent outcome of the 1930s, the country’s prime minister and his inner circle demurred. When events unfolded rapidly in 1939 and 1940, this would come back to hurt the Canadian military as it embraced an ever-expanding role during the Second World War.
6
The Second World War: The Conflict at Sea and in Air
Contrary to Prime Minister King’s initial beliefs, Adolf Hitler proved to be desperately in search of war, and when Germany invaded Poland on September 1, 1939, he got just that. Despite a symbolic waiting period after Britain’s own declaration of war, there was never any question whether Canada would enter it. The issue at hand was what type of contribution Canada was going to make. It was here that the shadow of the First World War loomed large over King. He was determined to avoid an infantry-heavy contribution like that of the last war, one that would lead to high casualties, the potential for conscription, and ultimately a national crisis like that in 1918.1 King was not going to see the country split apart over the issue of conscription. This meant that the initial Canadian war effort would be directed toward roles that limited casualties, what King defined as “limited liability.” One infantry division was authorized to head overseas under the command of General Andrew McNaughton, while another trained at home. The major military contribution for Canada was going to be at sea and in the air where casualties, it was thought, would remain light.
King also hoped that enhanced logistical support for Britain would make up for the limited land-based commitment. This assistance came in the form of the traditional wartime exports, munitions and wheat, as well as a variety of war matériel. Yet the project King hoped would satisfy as Canada’s primary contribution was the British Commonwealth Air Training Plan.2 Canada’s Prairies and open skies were a perfect setting for the establishment of a massive pilot and aircrew training program. It was free from enemy attacks, contained plenty of room for manoeuvring and mistakes, and was also close enough to Britain to get trained airmen overseas and into the war as quickly as possible. Fairly tense negotiations between King and the British government occurred in October before the plan was agreed upon in December 1939. The initial costs were to be $600 million, with Canada paying just over half. Recruits came from Australia, New Zealand, Great Britain, South Africa, Poland, Czechoslovakia, and elsewhere, contributing to the international flavour of the program. Still, half of all the recruits came from Canada. Training consisted of flying machines that were relics of the last world war, but experience was gained and vital skills were developed. However, training was dangerous, and 3,000 trainees lost their lives before even graduating.
The young men in the program lived and trained at 231 different sites across the country. Flooded with hundreds, if not thousands, of eager young men were small towns such as Vulcan, Alberta; Abbotsford, British Columbia; Yorkton, Saskatchewan; Carberry, Manitoba; and numerous others. Money came with the young men, and the local towns and bars overflowed with “Acey-Deuceys” proudly wearing the uniform of an aircraftman second class. While tension certainly existed between the young men and the locals, especially over women, and not a few alcohol-fuelled brawls were the result, the training program was an unmitigated success. The budget eventually ballooned to $2.2 billion, with Canada paying most of it, while 131,500 airmen graduated from the program, most of them ending up in Bomber Command. The British Commonwealth Air Training Plan was one of the most important contributions Canada made toward the larger war effort.
When France fell in June 1940, Canada’s position changed dramatically. The nation now ranked as Britain’s number two ally, and King’s attempt at a war of “limited liability” was simply not going to pan out. By the end of that year, the Canadian navy was embroiled in the pivotal Battle of the Atlantic, and Canadians in both the Royal Canadian Air Force (RCAF) and the Royal Air Force (RAF) were engaged in the air. The army, however, had yet to get involved.
Pilot trainees of the British Commonwealth Air Training Plan with Curtiss P-36 aircraft at the Little Norway training centre, Toronto Islands.
The first Canadians of what would eventually make up the First Canadian Army arrived in England in December 1939. This 20,000-strong division was commanded by General Andrew McNaughton. One brigade of McNaughton’s division was sent to France briefly in early June but was quickly pulled back to England as France fell. After British and French soldiers were evacuated from the French town of Dunkirk, McNaughton’s division became a mobile strike force, one of the few fully equipped and trained divisions left in Britain. All that summer the Canadians bounced around between anticipated invasion points, earning the moniker “McNaughton’s Travelling Circus.”
By the end of 1940, British Commonwealth forces were fighting a land war in North Africa, driving back an outmatched Italian Army. By early 1941, this was reversed. The Italians were reinforced by their German allies, and the British Commonwealth troops found themselves on the retreat.
Pressure was mounting on King to commit Canadians to the land war. In England, three Canadian divisions and a tank brigade were now training while spending most of their free time at the local pubs. The distance to North Africa meant it was an unlikely destination for these troops. Yet an opportunity to commit Canadians troops arrived in the summer of 1941. As Canada’s sea and air commitments expanded, the country took part in two military disasters on land: one in Hong Kong, the other in France at Dieppe.
Hong Kong
In August, Chief of the General Staff Harry Crerar and Defence Minister J.L. Ralston had lunch with Crerar’s old Royal Military College buddy, A.E. Grasett, who had just recently returned from command of the garrison in Hong Kong. What was said at this meeting has been lost to history. However, Grasett did go back to London in early September and confidently inform the British that Canada would send reinforcements to Hong Kong if asked.3 Thus, in late September, the official request for troops came from London. King felt that dispatching soldiers to Hong Kong would mollify English-Canadian demands for Canada to get into the ground war (demands also resonating from elements within his own Cabinet) while ensuring that it was not such a large commitment as to risk ire from French Canada. The prime minister thus reluctantly agreed to send Canadians to Hong Kong, a decision that led to disaster for those unlucky souls selected to go.
Hong Kong was a symbolically important piece of the British Empire in the Pacific. It was also a small part of a supply chain to the Chinese Nationalist leader Chiang Kai-shek, who was currently fighting the Japanese on the mainland. The island itself, however, was simply indefensible. British prime minister Winston Churchill had even openly stated that. Its defensive fortifications were decrepit, and the garrison suffered from poor leadership, particularly garrison commander Major-General Christopher Maltby, which would become apparent during the battle itself.4 While the garrison troops were generally of good quality — a mixture of British, Indian, and local Hong Kong soldiers — they were up against an extremely skilled and experienced Imperial Japanese Army that had spent years fighting the Chinese on the mainland.
Joining this lost cause was C-Force under the command of Great War veteran Brigadier-General John K. Lawson, consisting of 1,973 soldiers in two battalions — the Royal Rifles of Canada and the Winnipeg Grenadiers — along with two nursing sisters. The battalions were chosen because of their experience performing garrison duty in Newfoundland and Jamaica as well as their proximity to the Pacific. While not as well trained as their Canadian counterparts currently in Britain, they were as well prepared as any other Canadian units then available. In fact, the Winnipeg Grenadiers had even conducted training exercises in the mountainous subtropical heat of Jamaica, terrain and climate similar to that of Hong Kong. There were still issues. Some of the units lacked modern equipment, some of the newer men had still to complete their full training, and a small number had yet to even fire their weapons. Most damning, however, was that the addition of nearly 2,000 Canadians was never going to make a difference, anyway.
The Canadians arrived in Hong Kong in November, and the Japanese launched their attack on December 8, mere hours after the attack on Pearl Harbor (the different calendar date being a result of different time zones). By December 10, British positions on the mainland had fallen, and by December 19, the Japanese were on the island. Because of poor pre-battle dispositions laid out by General Maltby, the Japanese were able to move behind the individual pockets of defenders and seize key strategic pieces of high ground. The battle quickly became desperate.
Despite the lack of combat experience, both Canadian and Japanese accounts suggest the Canadians put up a terrific fight. This was highlighted by the action of John Osborn of the Winnipeg Grenadiers, a company sergeant-major. Osborn was born in England and came to Canada shortly after the end of the First World War. He farmed for a time in Saskatchewan and then worked on the Canadian Pacific Railway before enlisting in Winnipeg in 1939. On December 19, 1941, Osborn was helping to organize the Canadian defence at the base of Mount Butler. Already wounded, he continued to engage the Japanese in close-quarters fighting. When a Japanese grenade landed amid him and his men, Osborn threw himself onto the explosive and was killed, but his men were saved. His brave actions earned him the Victoria Cross. At the same time, Brigadier-General Lawson’s headquarters became surrounded. His last message was that he was going outside to fight it out. Perhaps apocryphally, it is said he met the enemy with a pistol in each hand before being subsequently killed. Lawson’s public bravery and death led to the Japanese giving him a full military burial, a rare show of respect by the Japanese for their enemy.
