One Hundred Days

The One Hundred Days Offensive

November 1918.  Mons, France.

Dearest Eleanor,

An armistice has come into effect as of eleven o'clock this morning, on the eleventh day of the eleventh month of this year. Hostilities are to cease on the Western Front as a result of negotiations somewhere near Compiègne. It is a relief and successful culmination of the Allies' strong offense attack since August of this year with our Canadian Corps at the centre.

The Germans had gauged much success at their attempted knock out blow this past spring. They stunned our Allied troops, and marched deep into France. Positions that had been hard won by our Canadian boys were lost within weeks. Luckily, our men were escaped a direct blow during this campaign, but I know the effect must have been profound.

It was the successes of in Ypres and at Vimy Ridge that raised them in the esteem of the British Army. Facing defeat in these same combat zones is a cruel trick of nature. So many Canadian men lost their lives, a fact that is etched in my mind because I cared for them and so many other Allied soldiers. After those defining battles, the wounded came pouring into our Casualty Clearing Station in horrifying numbers and conditions. There were the dead, the dying, and the heavily wounded.

My fellow nursing sisters and I worked tirelessly day and night to triage the men as they were removed from the trains and brought down into the tents. Those who could not be saved were moved to one side of the railway siding and provided what little comfort we could offer. Surgeries were performed on other men when resources were available, but I fear our abilities were far below the demand we were confronted with. As the hours dragged into days, it felt like we could do little more than provide the men with a proper burial.

Wounds that had been infiltrated by muck and gore were festering at incredible rates. We could barely change the bandages quickly enough. Despite our valiant efforts, we could not purge the effects of the mustard gas and the insidious trouble of gangrene was rampant. Saving men from these serious infections was of the utmost difficulty, as it spread so quickly. Many of us had never seen this problem before.

Luckily, our station houses some of the most brilliant doctors and nurses I have ever met. Rather than closing up these wounds or leaving them untreated, they have learned that the best treatment for gas gangrene is deep debridement of all infected tissues, and if necessary rapid amputation. These measures may seem drastic, but they have saved the lives of hundreds of men since I have been stationed overseas.

Monitoring our patients became far easier once they were out of immediate danger. I have met so many interesting gentlemen, and I have enjoyed many moments sharing stories about home. The Canadian men I have encountered have come from all over our nation, hailing from practically every small town and every large city. Their prior occupations have ranged from fishermen to bankers, and all of them have fought bravely.

One of the young men I remember fondly is named George Price. He had sustained a superficial artillery wound in his arm. After minimal treatment he was healing well. I was charged with dressing his wound daily, and thus wiled away numerous hours at his bedside. We talked of many things; the smell of clean air, how the scenery of Europe resembles that of Canada. I have never forgotten him as I discovered that he joined the army in Moosejaw, Saskatchewan, mere kilometers from my hometown of Regina!

George originally hailed from Nova Scotia, but had moved out west to seek work as a farm hand. He told me about how he had struggled with enlistment and was finally conscripted into service in 1917. Subsequently, he was shipped to Europe in short order and became a part of the 28th Battalion of the CEF. His troop had been a part of all of Canada's landmark battles, and he felt lucky to have survived so long.

I lost touch with George after he was cleared to return to the front lines. I have often wondered how he has been and what adventures have awaited him in the trenches. I knew I would have little hope of tracking him down, but the least I could do was to follow the progress of the Canadian Corps. Therefore, I was relieved to hear that our men had not fought during the German offensive in May. However, this escape was short-lived.

The Allies had a plan. For the last one hundred days, the Canadian Corps has led the vanguard in a strategic counterattack. First came the action at Amiens. As I understand it, the forces were able to completely surprise the Germans and they recaptured thirteen kilometers in one day making it the Allies' most successful day of combat on the Western Front. Next the Canadians were sent to Arras and given the task of cracking the Hindenburg Line, Germany's main defensive delineation.

With vigorous intensity, the Canadians launched a succession of attacks near Canal du Nord and overtook the heavily fortified Drocourt-Quéant Line in early September. The fighting was fierce and there were many casualties, but it was a first-rate achievement nonetheless. From that point, it was only the canal that separated our boys from the Hindenburg Line.

General Currie plotted an audacious plan. The entire Canadian Corps, with British reinforcements, smashed through a dry section of the Canal du Nord. The bombardment leashed upon the Germans was relentless. At the end of that single day, the Canadians had not only crossed over, but they had also broken through three lines of German defences. Bourlon Wood was also overtaken, proving that the Hindenburg Line had been well and truly ruptured.

Germanic retreat followed shortly thereafter. However, they did not accept the possibility of defeat easily. The German rear-guard action was avage and our Canadian boys fought on. Cambrai, Canal de la Sensée, Valenciennes and Mount Houy were won. Finally, the Canadian men landed on the outskirts of Mons just days ago.

During all this time, we have been treating the wounded as they have been shipped away from the front lines. As desperate as I have felt by the level of carnage, I have begun to hope like never before. The courage of our Canadians Corps at the front lines has been unprecedented. Rumours report that our men have captured more territory, more prisoners, and more equipment than our American counterparts and they are six times as large! Estimates suggest that the Canadians alone had defeated one quarter of the German army during the last three months!

Yet, our success has come at a price. Wounded men are continuing to pour into our camp, and those that have been here for days are being ravaged by a terrible epidemic of influenza. Our troops may have agreed to a ceasefire, but the casualties of war still rage on in my vicinity. I only hope that we can prevent any further damage as we strive forwards towards peace.

With all my love,

Rose

P.S.

El - I have quickly retrieved this letter to hastily add terrible news. Communication has come that one of our Canadian soldiers died only two minutes before the armistice came into effect this morning. How tragic! Apparently a few men had left their ranks to investigate the position of some nearby German machine gun nests. Once discovered, the Prussians began to retreat, but not without a parting shot. A sniper's bullet killed one Private George Price. My heart is heavy at the loss of my special friend so close to the possibility of peace. With that single shot, the futility of this war was so apparent to me. Keep me in your thoughts and pray that I may join you again soon. All my love, R.