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THE POLICY OF NEGLECT: THE CANADIAN IN THE INTERWAR YEARS, 1919-39

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A Dissertation Submitted to the Temple University Graduate Board

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in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

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by Britton Wade MacDonald January, 2009 iii

©

Copyright

2008

by

Britton W. MacDonald iv

ABSTRACT

The Policy of Neglect: The in the Interwar Years, 1919-1939

Britton W. MacDonald

Doctor of Philosophy

Temple University, 2008

Dr. Gregory J. W. Urwin

The Canadian Militia, since its beginning, has been underfunded and under-supported by the , no matter which political party was in power. This trend continued throughout the interwar years of 1919 to 1939. During these years, the Militia’s members had to improvise a great deal of the time in their efforts to attain effectiveness. This included much of their training, which they often funded with their own pay. They created their own training apparatuses, such as mock , so that their preparations had a hint of realism. Officers designed interesting and unique exercises to challenge their personnel. All these actions helped create esprit de in the Militia, particularly the half composed of citizen , the Non-

Permanent Active Militia. The regulars, the (or Permanent Force), also relied on their own efforts to improve themselves as soldiers. They found intellectual nourishment in an excellent service journal, the Canadian Defence Quarterly, and British schools. The Militia learned to endure in these years because of all the trials its members faced.

The interwar years are important for their impact on how the Canadian (as it was known after 1940) would fight the Second World . To put it simply, the interwar years forced the Militia to focus on , NCO, and specialist development, creating a highly trained v and effective nucleus of key personnel. This leadership core led ’s land-based contribution to the war effort. Another important factor in the ’s performance was the Militia’s interwar interest in mechanization, which revealed a remarkably progressive strain in this neglected organization. vi

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

This dissertation began life after I completed two classes on the world under the late

Russell F. Weigley at Temple University. Given that I was the only Canadian in the classes, it seemed only natural to honor my heritage for my research essays. That I would face no competition for books or research materials also played a part, I will hasten to admit. In completing those essays, I became aware that there was a dearth of books on the Canadian

Militia’s interwar years. As historians are trained to look for holes in the historiography and try to fill them, I soon realized I had found my dissertation topic.

Writing this dissertation has been a long, hard road. And I owe many people my gratitude for their help along the way. First and foremost, I would like to thank the wonderful at the

National Archives and Library of Canada, the University of (particularly the interlibrary loans staff), and the Saskatoon Public Library.

The patience of my advisor, Dr. Gregory J. W. Urwin, was sorely tested in helping me complete this dissertation. He has done a yeoman’s work to smooth, compress, and generally my writing. Despite having said that, I absolve him of any errors and problems that may have crept into (or lingered in) the dissertation.

I would also like to thank Drs. Richard Immerman, Jay Lockenour, and David Bercuson for sitting on my defense committee. Undoubtedly, their input has made this dissertation stronger.

Finally, I cannot forget to thank my friends and family. My parents, Mary and David, provided more than generous financial and emotional support in the years that it took me to vii complete the dissertation, even if they could not quite remember what it was that I was doing.

My brother, Scott, was a sounding board for ideas, arguments, and writing style. Finally, I would like to thank my wife Janelle. Her patience for me and loving support was always appreciated when I was depressed at how the project was going. So to her I dedicate this dissertation, along with all the brave men whose tale I am recounting herein. What I suffered through was nothing compared to what they had to endure, both in the interwar period and certainly in the Second

World War. viii

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Page ABSTRACT ...... iv

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS ...... vi

LIST OF TABLES ...... ix

CHAPTER

1. INTRODUCTION ...... 1

2. THE MILITIA IN CANADA, 1812-1914 ...... 15

3. THE TEST OF BATTLE ...... 53

4. “DEFENCE AGAINST WHOM?” ...... 85

5. POSTWAR PROBLEMS IN THE MILITIA ...... 111

6. “A SENSELESS WASTE OF THE TAXPAYER’S MONEY”? ...... 139

7. THE AND THE MILITIA ...... 171

8. “PREPARING OUR OWN MINDS” ...... 203

9. GETTING THE OBJECTIVE RIGHT ...... 237

10. POLITICS, ARMAMENT, AND SOVEREIGNTY, 1936-39 ...... 265

11. A “HETEROGENEOUS MASS” ...... 297

12. CONCLUSION ...... 327

BIBLIOGRAPHY ...... 355 ix

LIST OF TABLES

Table Page

1. Comparison of the budgets of Canada’s three military services, 1935-39...... 289 1

CHAPTER ONE:

INTRODUCTION:

THE NEGLECTED CANADIAN MILITIA

By examining the Canadian Militia’s history, one thing becomes abundantly clear: until the actually needed its military, whether for a crisis or a war, the government allowed it to languish, unfunded and nearly forgotten. But when needed, the Militia’s funding returned, providing equipment and weapons that had been withheld by years of governmental parsimony. Through much of Canada’s early history, only a clear and viable threat from the , such as during the

American Civil War or the invasions of the post-bellum years, provided a reason to properly arm and equip the Militia. A handful of key developments in the nineteenth century and early twentieth century transformed the Militia from its colonial origins into something approaching a modern professional army. It had not yet reached that stage by the beginning of the First World War, but it had all the trappings of such a force.

As suggested by its title, the Canadian Militia has historically been an organization of part- time soldiers. The government only created regulars, in the form of the Permanent Active Militia, or Permanent Force, in the 1870s. did so because the withdrew the majority of its garrisons from Canada, leaving the Militia without its teachers. For most of Canada’s history until the Second World War, the ’s first-line of defense was not the regular forces, but its citizen soldiers in the Non-Permanent Active Militia (NPAM). Due to the Militia Myth that emerged after the and gained strength after the 1880s, the government and the populace looked down on Canada’s regulars. The Permanent Force was often depicted as unnecessary and overly 2 expensive. Its members were seen as dilettantes, drunks or worse. On the other hand, the amateur citizen soldiers were noble, virtuous and often considered better soldiers than the regulars.

The period following the South African War of 1899-1902 transformed the Militia. Its organization became more robust, adding services and evolving from an auxiliary force to nearly a self-contained army. This exception to the rule of government penny-pinching represented more a brief cultural trend than a change in Canadian society and politics. Military clubs, cadet corps and rifle ranges flourished as the public became interested in the military after Canada’s successful contribution to defeating the Boers. Following this fleeting interlude, the ministerial authority of Sir

Sam Hughes ensured the ascendancy of the citizen over the regular. This was no coincidence as Hughes was also the most senior officer among Canada’s part-time soldiers. Hughes detested regulars as minister of Militia from 1911 to 1916, he actively worked against their interests and development. He ignored the advice of the Permanent Force and Staff, assuming that he knew better. Hughes’ hubris proved nearly disastrous when Canada mobilized to fight in the First

World War.

The First World War would largely refute the idea within the NPAM that the amateur was superior to the trained and disciplined regular. The that fought in and

Belgium became a thoroughly professional and efficient fighting force by the time of its victory at

Vimy Ridge in early April 1917. As historian Bill Rawling commented: “The Canadian Corps thus moved away from the concept of the citizen-soldier who could ride and shoot to an army of technicians which, even in the , specialized in particular aspects of fighting 3 battles.”1 The nature of modern combat forced the members of the Canadian Corps to become professionals. No longer could amateurs take the field and win the day. After the war, the belief that a professional soldier fought better than the amateur endured, at least within the Militia. There were those in political office, however, who asserted during the 1920s that Canada did not need the

Militia. It was almost an unspoken assumption that if a crisis arose, Canada would have time to recruit its citizens and that they would have time to learn a soldier’s craft. The government proceeded to starve the military, as it had in the past, certain that if a “world situation” (as Prime

Minister William Lyon Mackenzie King called the coming war in 1938) drew nigh there would be time to prepare the military for service. These politicians simply did not understand that warfare had grown infinitely more complicated than it was in the nineteenth century and they forgot it took

Canada’s soldiers nearly three years before they attained the skill level that made them such potent fighters in 1917 and 1918.

After the “war to end all wars” the old habit of the government neglecting the military returned. The Great Depression only reinforced this tendency. “The decade between 1918 and 1928 had been carefree Canadian years, heedlessly spent by a prosperous people in a false sense of security,” recalled historian Kim Beattie, “Living in it was frankly fun, but to soldier seriously in the feckless and frivolous Jazz Age was as difficult as it was to find time to think about such mundane matters as the nation’s security.”2 A succession of Canadian sought to economize on defense expenditures. The Liberal government of Prime Minister King took the first step by forming

1Bill Rawling, Surviving : Technology and the Canadian Corps, 1914-1918 (: Press, 1997), 217.

2Kim Beattie, Dileas: The 48th Highlanders of Canada 1929-1956 (Toronto: 48th Highlanders of Canada, 1957), 2-3. 4 the Department of National Defense on January 1, 1923. The budgets for the Canadian military services decreased substantially throughout the 1920s. Even when a sympathetic Minister of

National Defense (J. L. Ralston) momentarily increased appropriations in the 1929-30 and 1930-31 fiscal years, the amounts available paled in comparison to pre-First World War budgets. These financial boosts allowed slightly longer training periods, but they did not provide larger formations or numbers of men to train. The Militia only purchased meager quantities of new weapons, equipment or vehicles. The British government had its Ten-Year Rule, which assumed the British

Army would not fight a war against a power for a decade. While Ottawa never officially adopted this policy, it helped to stunt Canadian defense appropriations until 1935, three years after the British had abandoned it.3 Only after 1936, when it seemed clear the world was heading towards another global war, did the government fund the Militia and the other services at any level approaching adequacy. In many ways, it was already too late for that money to have the desired effect. Historian David J. Bercuson accurately asserted the “Canadian way of war is not to be ready when armed conflict begins.”4

The main result of this paucity of funds was that the Militia could not afford to properly train either the Permanent Force or the NPAM with any regularity. The lack of modern arms and equipment also affected drill, making it more surreal than realistic. The Militia could not afford to conduct extensive field or camp training. Thus it favored small-unit and individual training as these were cheaper than collective training. But what the interwar leaders of the Militia missed (or could

3C. P. Stacey, Arms, Men and Governments: The War Policies of Canada 1939-1945 (Ottawa: Queen’s Printer, 1970), 3.

4David J. Bercuson, Blood on the Hills: The Canadian Army in the (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1999), 222. 5

not implement) was that individual training was most effective when it was combined with collective

training. It was not enough for an individual to learn new skills and techniques, he needed to

practice them as part of a greater whole. This was most damaging to the Permanent Force, which

rarely received an opportunity for collective training, even within its , batteries, and corps.

The below-strength status of Permanent Force and NPAM units took a further toll on training. It

became increasingly hard to foster enthusiasm for training and general esprit in an army that could

not provide much beyond the basic elements of soldiering, a rifle and a uniform, both of which were

left over from the First World War.

The few intellectual outlets available to Militia personnel were limited to various courses and a few publication opportunities, the most important of which was the Canadian Defence Quarterly

(CDQ). The journal was founded and edited by Permanent Force officers, but was not officially connected with National Defense Headquarters. Nevertheless, it served as an important organ for the General Staff to disseminate modern ideas. The CDQ played an informational role vis-a-vis the interested public, Permanent Force, and NPAM, although its impact is poorly documented.

Even when appropriations increased again in the late 1930s, the Militia occupied only fourth place among Canada’s defense priorities. That meant it still did not receive the full boost it needed for training, new weapons and new equipment. The King government decided that its priorities were coastal fortifications, the Royal Canadian , the , and finally the

Militia.5 These priorities were decided by a government that hung back from engaging in an overseas

5John Swettenham, McNaughton, vol. 1, 1887-1939 (Toronto: Ryerson Press, 1968), 238; Stephen J. Harris, Canadian Brass: The Making of a Professional Army, 1860-1939 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1988), 196-97; James Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, vol. 2: Appeasement and Rearmament (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1965), 140. 6 conflict for fear of shattering the country’s and incurring the same heavy casualties experienced in 1914-18.

The goal of the Canadian Militia and General Staff after 1919 became to create a nucleus of personnel around which, according to Andrew McNaughton, “the defence resources of the Nation could be crystallized in cases of emergency in the time likely to be available.”6 In effect, the staff abandoned the idea of fielding an army and focused to the best of its abilities on building and sustaining a cadre. The military policy established in 1905 provided the Permanent

Force with a clear mission: to render aid to the civil power, to furnish a military force in case of emergency, and to train the NPAM. The Permanent Force was barely adequate for these purposes in the 1920s and most of the 1930s due to the diminutive size mandated by government.

A major concern for the Militia in this era was lack of political direction from Ottawa.

Without such direction, the General Staff found it difficult to plan for the future and train for the present. Successive governments would not support a military establishment on the scale that the

Permanent Force wanted. Such support would have been politically unfeasible. They would half- heartedly pay for the insurance that Canada’s regulars represented, but only at a limited level. The

General Staff spent much of the interwar period ineffectively arguing for the Militia or trying to demonstrate that it had some worth. As E. L. M. Burns stated in one of his many articles in the CDQ: “Our forces are poorly equipped and trained because so few are interested in defence questions, and few Canadians are interested because there is no enemy at our

6A. G. L. McNaughton, “Address to the Canadian Club of ,” January 30, 1939, fol. “30 January 1939,” Andrew George Latta McNaughton Papers, vol. 348, National Archives of Canada, Ottawa (hereafter cited as NAC). 7 gates, or even on the horizon.”7 It would take until 1937 for Ottawa to define another military policy.

In the meantime, the Militia had reorganized twice, once after the First World War and again in 1936, both times under its own vision of what its table of organization should be, rather than one defined by the government.

The NPAM units across Canada responded diversely to the challenges of the interwar period.

Most units sagged below even peacetime strengths. Major J. Murray Savage wrote in reference to the Great Depression that “NPAM units were left to get along as best they could until prospects of war provided stimulation.”8 That applied to the 1920s as well. Ottawa’s budgetary cutbacks forced most units to scrape to survive. It was not uncommon for members to turn over their service pay to their unit. In order to be as efficient as possible in military training and other military duties, many militiamen drilled for more days than the government paid. The units did all they could to recruit new members; the inventiveness of some officers in this respect was quite striking. The sacrifices required by the NPAM during the interwar period are reflected by the fact that most unit histories read like hagiographies when detailing those years.

In addition to manpower, an army needs weapons and equipment. By the late 1930s, Canada possessed the industrial capability to produce most modern small and light arms, had the contracts been available. For most of the interwar period, however, both the public and the government wanted munitions production to be in the hands of public enterprise, not . By the late 1930s, private firms were seeking munitions contracts in the without any official support

7Lieutenant Colonel E. L. M. Burns, “The Defence of Canada,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 13 (July 1936): 379.

8Major J. Murray Savage, “The Non-Permanent Active Militia in the Great Depression,” in Battlelines: Eyewitness Accounts From Canada’s Military History, ed. J. L. Granatstein and Norman Hillmer (Toronto: Thomas Allen Publishers, 2004), 231. 8 from Ottawa.9 Thus there was privately-owned industrial support available to the Canadian Militia, but the government would not utilize it to rearm or reequip the Militia nor support Great Britain’s rearmament. Small orders were placed with British companies after 1936, mostly for training equipment, but the government refused to buy large quantities fearing that they would be used for

“offensive” purposes. This refusal was the primary reason why the Militia was not better armed at the outbreak of the Second World War.

The current historiography has little to say about the Canadian Militia during the interwar period. There are few works that detail the diverse topics that need to be addressed. In fact, most secondary sources only treat the period briefly or peripherally. The few biographies and memoirs that are available are not much better.10 The current historiography is often neglectful of the NPAM.

With few exceptions, most historians tend to focus on the Permanent Force and its problems in the interwar period. The NPAM’s efforts are often only recognized by various unit histories.

One of the reasons why the interwar period matters is that it closes the gap between Canada’s performance in the First World War and the Second World War. While the Canadian Corps is widely lauded, as evinced by titles such as Spearhead to Victory (1987) or Shock Army of the British

9James Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, vol.1, From the Great War to the Great Depression (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1964), 116; Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 2: 122.

10Historian has observed that the Canadian veterans of Second World War published far fewer memoirs than those of the First World War. Worse, Canadian generals of both conflicts rarely offered their memoirs or insights. This is important because it would be those Second World War generals, officers, and soldiers who tell us of the interwar period. Tim Cook, Clio’s : Canadian Historians and the Writing of the World Wars (: UBC Press, 2006), 190, 191. Recently, however, there are excellent biographies emerging on several of Canada’s Second World War generals including Generals H. D. G. Crerar and Bert Hoffmeister. See, Paul Douglas Dickson, A Thoroughly Canadian General: A Biography of General H. D. G. Crerar (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2007); Douglas E. Delaney, The Soldier’s General: Bert Hoffmeister at War (Vancouver: UBC Press, 2005). 9

Empire (1997),11 the Canadian Army’s part in the Second World War suffers by comparison. One reason for this, according to historian Tim Cook, was certain comments in the third volume of the

Official History of the Canadian Army in the Second World War. C. P. Stacey, the dean of Canadian military history, wrote the offending sentences. Stacey claimed that regimental officers’ training was

“casual and haphazard” when analyzing the army’s supposedly poor performance on battlefields. Such officers were “not fully competent for their appointments, and whose inadequacy appeared in action and sometimes had serious consequences.”12 Stacey conceded that when regimental officers were at their best, they had no superior. He also praised the rank and file and absolved the Canadian high command of blame. Stacey admired, worked with, and benefitted from his association with Generals H. D. G. Crerar, , and Charles Foulkes. These were

Canada’s highest-ranking commanders in the Second World War, which partially explains why

Stacey kept any criticism of them out of the official history. Certainly, the Canadian high command warranted some blame for its misbegotten battle plans rather than the junior officers who attempted to execute them.13

Stacey came to regret his comment due to the use that American and British historians made of it to portray the Canadian Army in an inferior light. Stacey was too cautious in his analysis and avoided placing blame elsewhere, even justifiably. There was no criticism of the British for failing to keep pace with the Canadians in the first days of the Normandy campaign, which allowed strong

11Daniel G Dancocks, Spearhead to Victory: Canada and the Great War (: Hurtig, 1987); Shane Schreiber, Shock Army of the : The Canadian Corps in the Last 100 Days of the Great War (Westport, Conn.: Praeger, 1997).

12Colonel C. P. Stacey, Official History of the Canadian Army in the Second World War, vol. 3, The Victory Campaign: The Operations in North-West , 1944-1945 (Ottawa: Queen’s Printer, 1960), 275.

13Cook, Clio’s Warriors, 193-96; . 10

German elements to attack the Canadians on their flank. Stacey gave little credit to the Germans for their often superior weapons, tenacity on the defensive, or their parity in strength with the Allies in the first six weeks of the campaign. Privately, Stacey recognized that Canadians suffered a higher casualty rate in Normandy because they faced more hard fighting than their allies. Though an excellent historian throughout most of his career, Stacey failed to provide a nuanced portrayal of the

Canadian Army in Normandy.14

From this point, many histories on the Canadian Army in the Second World War adopted a more negative tone than positive. Criticism of the Canadians and British in Normandy seems to ignore, as historian and participant Ken Tout has noted, “the problems of fighting against a superb army with weapons of overwhelming power on terrain of their own choosing.”15 Histories by non-

Canadians were particularly unkind to the Canadian Army. Max Hastings in Overlord (1984) quoted

Stacey as part of an argument that British Field Marshal Bernard L. Montgomery, of

Allied ground forces in the Normandy Campaign, should have used British to shore up or replace the Canadians in the final push on Falaise in order to trap a large portion of the German forces then remaining in Normandy. Hastings, who used testimony from individual soldiers as the basis for parts of his narrative, made the odd choice of Dick Raymond for Canada.

Raymond was actually an American who entertained a fairly low opinion of the Canadian Army’s performance.16 Canadian historians have tended to follow Stacey’s lead. For example, John A.

14Ibid., 194.

15Ken Tout, The Bloody Battle for Tilly: Normandy 1944 (Thrupp: Sutton, 2000), 200.

16Max Hastings, Overlord: D-Day and the Battle for Normandy (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1984), 300-1. 11

English judged that the Canadian high command failed not in their planning and battlefield leadership, but in preparing Canadian junior officers and soldiers for battle.17

This trend is slowly beginning to reverse itself. Led by historian Terry Copp, a rising revisionist school argues that Canadian troops in Europe fought better than has been previously recognized. Copp joined with Robert Vogel to start arguing this position during the 1980s with a series of books called Maple Leaf Route.18 Recently, Copp has returned to this theme in a pair of compelling books, Fields of Fire (2003) and Cinderella Army (2006).19 Gregory Liedtke’s article,

“Canadian Offensive Operations in Normandy Revisited,” buttresses Copp’s argument as it focuses on the fact that the German forces facing Canadian troops in Normandy were not as weak as reported by many sources. Indeed, some of the German units and formations were relatively fresh, compared to their Canadian opponents, and retained impressive numbers of armored fighting vehicles. These

German units prevented the Canadian troops from enjoying better success in several Normandy operations, particularly in Totalize and Tractable, the battles to close the Falaise Gap.20 Copp’s later works followed on the heels of eye-opening research on the Canadian Corps of the First World War conducted in the 1990s. Such works include Bill Rawling’s Surviving Trench Warfare (1992),

Desmond Morton’s When Your Number’s Up (1993), Shane Schreiber’s Shock Army of the British

Empire (1997) and Tim Cook’s No Place to Run (1999). Focusing on Canadian generalship in the

17John A. English, Failure in High Command: The Canadian Army and the Normandy Campaign (Ottawa: Golden Dog Press, 1995).

18Terry Copp and Robert Vogel, Maple Leaf Route. 5 vols. (Alma, Ont.: Maple Leaf Route, 1983-88).

19Terry Copp, Fields of Fire: The Canadians in Normandy (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2003); Terry Copp, Cinderella Army: The Canadians in Northwest Europe, 1944-1945 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2006).

20Gregory Liedtke, “Canadian Offensive Operations in Normandy Revisited,” Canadian Military Journal 8 (Summer 2007): 60-68. 12

Second World War, J. L. Granatstein’s The Generals (1993), is a series of small biographies on many of Canada’s best generals.21 These works indicate that Canadian military history is undergoing a resurgence and is questioning previous interpretations. This dissertation contributes to the debate on Canada’s performance in the Second World War by examining the fate of the Militia during the interwar period.

British historians are also beginning to reverse the trend on the performance of Anglo-

Canadian troops in Normandy. To list but two authors, Ken Tout and John Buckley have done much to challenge the myths that have grown since 1944. Buckley’s impressive British Armour in the

Normandy Campaign dispels many illusions about Allied tanks and Anglo-Canadian armored doctrine. The lessons he draws from the confused history on Normandy is that Allied tanks needed more powerful guns and not better armor; the attacker, be it Allied or German, inherently suffered casualties in both manpower and tanks out of proportion to the gains; Anglo-Canadian armored doctrine adapted as the campaign lasted, but the armored divisions were still used in a breakthrough role for which they were not prepared nor trained; and, the Allies’ overwhelming air power and support was relatively useless in the close terrain of the Normandy bocage.22

Before proceeding, it is necessary to insert a note on the terms used in this dissertation, particularly to differentiate between the two levels in Canada’s Active Militia. For the most part, the part-time soldiers were usually referred to as “militia” in the nineteenth century. The term “Non-

Permanent Active Militia” came into vogue in the twentieth century. The “Permanent Force” will

21J. L. Granastein, The Generals: The Canadian Army’s Senior Commanders in the Second World War (Toronto: Stoddart, 1993, 1995); Desmond Morton, When Your Number’s Up: The Canadian Soldier in the First World War (Toronto: Random House, 1993); Tim Cook, No Place to Run: The Canadian Corps and Gas Warfare in the First World War (Vancouver, UBC Press, 1999).

22John Buckley, British Armour in the Normandy Campaign 1944 (New York: Frank Cass, 2004), passim. 13 be used be more frequently than the more formal “Permanent Active Militia.” When the term

“Militia” is used, it refers to both the Permanent Force and NPAM. “Militia” identified all Canadian land forces until 1940, when the designation “Canadian Army” was officially adopted.23 It should also be noted that in the Canadian Militia, “” and “” were readily interchangeable, primarily among infantry battalions.

23John R. Grodzinski, “A Modicum of Professionalism: The Canadian Militia in the Nineteenth Century,” in Colonel Bernd Horn, ed., The Canadian Way of War: Serving the National Interest (Toronto: , 2006), 104. 14

CHAPTER TWO:

THE MILITIA IN CANADA, 1812-1914:

CITIZEN SOLDIERS, NATION-BUILDING, AND CRAVEN REGULARS

The militia has long played a central role in Canadian history. The earliest colonies had that the governing authorities called into service during crises. Militia units participated in the crucial conflicts in Canada’s early history, including the War of 1812 and the 1837 Rebellion.

Both conflicts entrenched the “Militia Myth” in the Canadian political psyche. Essentially, that myth asserted that untrained and citizen-led militia forces served Canada best; they were the only line of defense the nation needed. Nevertheless, the 1823 Militia Act opened the slow process to create

Canadian regulars. An “Active Militia” eventually replaced the ad hoc militia. After most British troops left in 1871, the Canadian government established schools of instruction in 1873 to train the militia, and manned them with a new force of regulars. This decision created two branches within the Department of Militia’s purview, the Permanent Active Militia (or Permanent Force), which staffed the schools, and the Non-Permanent Active Militia (NPAM), or part-time citizen soldiers.

The process of creating a self-sufficient army, however, remained incomplete by the beginning of the First World War, primarily due to the Canadian government and the militiamen themselves.

There were several important wars and military crises that influenced the militia’s evolution, most notably tensions with the United States and the South African War of 1899-1901. Fears of an

American invasion during the 1860s, either by American troops or , provided a reason for the resurgence of the Active Militia. Few questioned the Militia’s existence after that decade although the government was not entirely forthcoming with adequate funds. In the next generation, 15 internal crises and problems plagued the Militia. The tiny Canadian military suffered from unfit and aged equipment, as well as government patronage in officer appointments that undermined its legitimacy. The South African War brought hard-won prestige to Canada’s soldiers. After the war, the Militia added branches and services to become less dependent on the British Army. In 1911, however, Sir became Minister of Militia and he began undermining that progress. He found the Permanent Force contemptible. By that point, Canada had established a friendlier relationship with its southern neighbor, even though some Canadians and Britons still viewed the

United States as a threat. Nevertheless, the fact remains that the Militia’s most rapid development occurred during a period where no obvious threat to Canada existed.

I

Canada’s Militia suffered in the nineteenth century from a government that was never firmly committed to its survival or effectiveness. Infatuated with the Militia Myth, members of Parliament often questioned the need for formal militia units, ones that had traditions and cohesion. They also questioned the need for a cadre of regulars to defend Canada when the British removed their soldiers from the Dominion. In the end, the government formed a corps of regulars, which, despite some faults, performed well whenever called upon.

What was the Militia Myth in Canada and what were its origins? Historian Stephen Harris described the myth in these terms: “That an unpaid militia, theoretically a levée en masse, . . . was the only army Canada needed.”1 The Militia Myth grew from the belief that the colonial militia had provided the keys to victory in the War of 1812 and the 1837 Rebellion. The myth began with a sermon by Reverend John Strachan in 1812, who lauded the militia with saving from

1Harris, Canadian Brass, 12. 16 the Americans. This was inaccurate as British regulars played a greater role than Strachan acknowledged. Regular leadership proved critical throughout that conflict and regular regiments bore the heaviest burden of fighting. The best Canadian troops in the conflict were , men the British trained and enlisted for extended service. Yet as British and Canadian historians began to address the conflict, they embellished Strachan’s claims. Writing in 1880, Egerton Ryerson popularized the Militia Myth among a new generation. Canadians deluded themselves into believing that there was always time enough to prepare to fight after a war had begun. This provided the government with an excuse not to fund a respectable military establishment. In 1837, malcontents in Upper and sought more control over their provinces’ administration. Farmers and pioneers expressed their discontent by attempts to arm and drill. British soldiers, aided by militias raised in the , ended this budding rebellion by force. The British then took steps to appease

Canadian discontent by granting responsible government and separating local from imperial affairs.

Somewhat speciously, Canadians credited the militias with creating Canada. The myth allowed

Anglo-Saxon people, in the New and Old World, to avoid the chimera they feared so much. No meant no high-caste officer class, no huge expenses on arms and equipment, and one less potential danger to the .2 This strain of anti-militarism was a powerful sentiment in Canada throughout the century.

2Ernest J. Chambers, The Canadian Militia: A History of the Origin and Development of the Force (Montreal: L. M. Fresco, 1907), 59; J. L. Granatstein, Canada’s Army: Waging War and Keeping the Peace (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2002), 4-5; John R. Grodzinski, “‘They Really Conducted Themselves Remarkably Well’: Canadian Soldiers and the Great War, 1783 to 1815,” in The Canadian Way of War: Serving the National Interest, ed. Colonel Bernd Horn (Toronto: Dundurn Press, 2006), 58, 72-74, 80, 82, 84, 87, 90; J. Mackay Hitsman, The Incredible War of 1812: A Military History, updated by Donald E. Graves (Toronto: Robin Brass Studio, 1965, 1999), xvii; Edgar McInnis, Canada: A Political and Social History, Revised and Enlarged (Toronto: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1963), 219-27; C. P. Stacey, The Military Problems of Canada: A Survey of Defence Policies and Strategic Conditions Past and Present (Toronto: Ryerson Press, 1940), 56, 58. 17

Once the War of 1812 ended, influential Canadians forgot military concerns and turned to economic development. Their main goals were to expand urban centers, build transportation infrastructure, and create wealth. The British, on the other hand, remained concerned enough about defense to erect fortifications at Montreal, Kingston, Halifax, and City. The only step

Canadians took to support that effort was the 1823 Militia Act. This law differentiated between the

Sedentary Militia, every able-bodied male in the colony, and a newly established Active Militia. The latter consisted of formal units that agreed to train a day or two each year. This act soon expired and was not replaced for a generation.3 It was nevertheless significant because of the foundation that it laid for militia organization, differentiating between roles in the defense of Canada.

After the 1837 Rebellion and the establishment of stronger local government, Canada needed to provide in part for its own defense. The British government wanted its possessions in North

America to take their own defense more seriously. The Duke of , Leader of the House of Lords, recommended Canada create a to supplement the militia. But Canada had become complacent as a result of the relative peace that graced Europe between the and the . This complacency led the British Army, by the 1850s, to start removing its soldiers from select colonies for service elsewhere. Canada was an obvious starting point with its peaceful borders and its increasing exercise of independence. The militia was in no shape to replace well-trained and well-supplied British regulars. Militia regiments rarely even held annual parades, let alone train between emergencies.

The Crimean War of 1854-56 reignited Canadian interest in military affairs. The 1855 Militia

Act borrowed the idea of an Active Militia from its 1823 predecessor. The government authorized

3Granatstein, Canada’s Army, 15. 18 sixteen troops, seven field batteries, five companies of artillery, and fifty infantry companies.

Their total complement was not to exceed 5,000 of all ranks. These troops were supposed to become the foundation for a Canadian army, but the act falsely recognized the Sedentary Militia as the backbone of Canada’s defense. The new Active Militia’s primary duty became aiding the civil power. Over the next few years, Active Militia units separated feuding Catholics and Orangemen, defended strikebreakers, broke up illegal boxing matches, and compelled farmers to pay taxes. The government equipped the Active Militia (except for uniforms) and funded ten days of annual training for the cavalry and infantry, and twenty for the artillery, though many militiamen drilled for longer without pay. The Active Militia constituted an auxiliary to the 3,000 remaining British regulars in

Canada. The 1855 act did not provide logistical support, a staff, and no qualification exams for promotion or rank. Indeed, the units elected their own officers.4

An 1856 amendment to the Militia Act acknowledged the public clamor to join the Militia by authorizing additional volunteer units. These units added another 5,000 of all ranks, which the government would arm, equip, and train but not pay for their service. That same year, the Sedentary

Militia’s muster day was abandoned, effectively ending compulsory service in Canada. This move emphasized the volunteer basis of the Active Militia. The act expired in 1858 without being replaced, partially because many units began to decay after the initial enthusiasm for soldiering wore off following the end of the Crimean War. The year before the Active Militia numbered a mere 188

4Chambers, Canadian Militia, 60, 62, 64; Granatstein, Canada’s Army, 17-18; Harris, Canadian Brass, 12; Stacey, Military Problems of Canada, 59; Larry Worthington, The Spur and the Sprocket (Kitchener: Reeve Press Ltd., 1968), 3-4. 19 officers and 3,464 men.5 The government, despite letting the act expire, still recognized the importance of a trained military force. Relying on a Sedentary Militia no longer struck Canada’s political leaders as a viable option. But even organized and publicly funded militia units were still militia, and lacked regular army training and discipline.

The led to an invasion scare in Canada and a renewal of the Active

Militia, due to increasing tensions between the United States and Great Britain. Americans were angry about overt British sympathy for the Confederacy. The British viewed the 1861 , where a Union warship forcibly removed Confederate agents from a British vessel, as a hostile action. The reawakened military spirit prompted the revival of the Active Militia units of 1855 and the organization of new informal ones. The Canadian government passed the 1863 Militia Act to formally reestablish the Active Militia. This legislation paid for 10,000 volunteers to train for twelve days each year. Under it, officers were promoted by merit, had to meet minimum educational requirements, and needed to attend a three-month course at a British school of instruction.6 This change from the 1855 act reflected the continuing shift in politicians’ thinking toward having the most efficient and best-trained soldiers possible, even if still militia.

British officers realized that Canada was virtually defenseless. They reasoned that the only way to fight the United States was to strike along its eastern seaboard with a superior fleet. The

British also grew increasingly concerned that Prussia posed a potentially greater threat to their home

5Granatstein, Canada’s Army, 18; John R. Grodzinski, “Modicum of Professionalism: The Canadian Militia in the Nineteenth Century,” in Horn, Canadian Way of War, 106; Harris, Canadian Brass, 13; Morton, Military , 86, 97; George F. G. Stanley, Canada’s Soldiers 1604-1954: The Military History of an Unmilitary People (Toronto: Macmillan, 1954), 212-13.

6Chambers, Canadian Militia, 71; Granatstein, Canada’s Army, 20-21; Morton, Military History of Canada, 81-82; Stacey, Military Problems of Canada, 59. 20 islands than the United States, which left them reluctant to divert military resources to Canada.

British newspapers criticized Canada’s lack of preparation, scolding that Britain could not bear the considerable cost to defend Canada against the United States in a war.

In this tense atmosphere, Sir John A. Macdonald, the Joint for the United and Minister of Militia, commissioned a defense policy review. The study concluded

Canada should maintain 50,000 fully trained militiamen with officers that had passed British proficiency exams. Many politicians hesitated to spend the estimated $1 million per year this force would require. Nor did they want to fund more training or instructional schools. They did, however, approve money to attach militia officers to British regiments. In 1865, militia officers gathered at a Quebec camp to learn practical military duties from British regulars, but that seemed a poor substitute for intensive training.7 Fear of an invasion was not enough to compel politicians to further action beyond cursory measures that relied on British support.

The demonstrated that Canada needed to rethink its defense policy. The

Fenians were Irish immigrants to the United States who wanted to strike a blow against Great Britain.

Newspapers boldly printed Fenian propaganda and plans to invade Canada while the Irish nationalists openly collected arms and money. Rumors of impending attacks caused the Canadian government to call out the militia repeatedly in 1865 and 1866. These fears caused more men to join the militia, which grew from 19,597 to 33,754 between March and May 1866. Fenians made a half-hearted attempt in April to capture in . The militia, , and

American authorities thwarted this sortie. The main invasion came on May 31, when approximately

600 Fenians crossed the to Fort Erie. On June 2 near Ridgeway, two columns of

7Chambers, Canadian Militia, 72; Harris, Canadian Brass, 13; Morton, Military History of Canada, 81-82. 21

Canadian militia happened upon the Fenians. In the ensuing battle, the Canadian troops fought well until confusion about their orders led them to retreat. Instead of exploiting this success, the Fenians fled to Buffalo because their leader calculated his small band could not conquer . The minor battle demonstrated to Canadians that a lack of leadership, training, and experience detracted from the Militia’s effectiveness in war.8

The Fenian Raids triggered important political and military changes in Canada. On July 1,

1867, the provinces of New Brunswick, , Ontario, and Quebec formed the Dominion of

Canada. The need to provide adequate defense served as a major theme in promoting Confederation.

In 1867, the four provinces could only muster 22,390 militia, a figure less than the previous year.

The militia was not a balanced force, with three-quarters of all militiamen in the infantry, another

1,500 cavalrymen, and only ten field artillery batteries. The Fenian threat gave the militia incentive to train. The 1868 Militia Act established the Active Militia at 40,000 of all ranks with sixteen days of paid training per year. Canada’s modern Militia sprang from this act, and it would be in continuous existence from this point in time. The new federal government provided new arms and equipment to the Militia, including 3,000 Peabody breech-loading rifles and 4,500 Spencer repeating rifles. The government authorized engineer, medical, and commissariat units, but only a few engineer companies and stretcher-bearer elements existed before the twentieth century. The Fenian

Raids also provided a reason for some British regulars to remain in the Dominion. British officers continued to train the militia and organized camps for its officers. The British also armed the Militia with Snider-Enfield breech-loading rifles. Nevertheless, the British were eager to reduce the nearly

8Chambers, Canadian Militia, 73; Grodzinski, “Modicum of Professionalism,” 115; Morton, Military History of Canada, 81, 83, 88-89; Stanley, Canada’s Soldiers, 223-24. 22

£1,250,000 per year they were spending on Canadian defense. In 1868, the British Secretary of State for War, Edward Cardwell, resolved to remove British troops from the as part of an overhaul of the British Army. Even renewed crises involving the Fenians and a minor rebellion in what would become the province of did not halt this withdrawal.9

The early 1870s marked a decisive point for the Canadian militia as its responsibilities and numbers increased and external threats receded. Canadian and British leaders realized that Canada’s national security was best ensured by avoiding war with the United States. The 1871 Treaty of

Washington underlined this principle. The treaty resolved several areas of dispute between the

United States, Great Britain and Canada. The construction of defensive works along the Canadian-

American border stopped as a result. Whitehall withdrew the remainder of its Canadian garrisons that same year, except for the battalions guarding the Halifax and Esquimalt naval bases. Canadians still relied on Britain for various forms of military assistance, ranging from generals to tents and rations. Beginning in 1874, Ottawa appointed a senior British officer as commanding

(GOC) the Militia. Prime Minister Sir John A. Macdonald argued that a British officer was necessary for his professional knowledge and as an impartial and external authority to protect the militia from being manipulated by its political masters. The first GOC was Major General Edward

Selby-Smith.10

9Chambers, Canadian Militia, 75, 87; Granatstein, Canada’s Army, 24; Grodzinski, “Modicum of Professionalism,” 107; Morton, Military History of Canada, 89-90; Stacey, Military Problems of Canada, 61; Stanley, Canada’s Soldiers, 231, 233.

10Chambers, Canadian Militia, 101; Harris, Canadian Brass, 19; Desmond Morton, Ministers and Generals: Politics and the Canadian Militia, 1868-1904 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1970), 197; Stacey, Military Problems of Canada, 62. 23

Selby-Smith’s main task, strengthening the Militia’s discipline and efficiency, proved difficult. The post-Confederation militia was more of a social and political institution than a military one. Many units devoted more energy to mobilizing their members for political purposes than to

Canada’s defense. In the first seven Parliaments after Confederation, between one-sixth and one- quarter of the members were militia officers. Despite this, the Militia received little support for arms and equipment. Urban units commonly had entry fees and needed patrons to survive. Rural ones often had only officers on their rolls. The 961-man officer corps was top heavy, with more officers certified to command a battalion (224) than were certified to command a (183). Many of these men were political appointments and had little military knowledge of significance. Officer training consisted mostly of mess etiquette. An officer was often left with an idea of his military duties but not the skills to lead men in battle. Without the guidance of the British garrisons, the

Militia’s training lacked focus and rigor. Summer camps varied in quality, with repetitive elementary drill marring most of them. Each man typically fired only thirty rounds of ammunition, hardly enough to become familiar with the peculiarities of his weapon or make progress towards marksmanship. Some camps became little more than “military picnics.” The occasional ceremonial review or sham battle did not prepare militiamen for war, despite pandering to the conceit of politicians, militiamen, and civilian spectators. Once training deteriorated into a mainly social activity, interest and attendance both declined.11

Military efficiency was hard to achieve with worn-out equipment and uniforms. The government bought obsolete British uniforms to save money. Private patrons and councils

11Granatstein, Canada’s Army, 26; Grodzinski, “Modicum of Professionalism,” 115-16; Morton, Military History of Canada, 94-96; Morton, Ministers and Generals, 201; Stacey, Military Problems of Canada, 63. 24 often gave funds for kilts, helmets, feather bonnets, and regimental badges. Even the “new” Snider-

Enfield was a muzzle-loading rifle that had been modified into a single-shot breech-loading weapon.

It was clumsy and nearly outmoded when issued, but it remained the Militia’s standard service rifle until 1896. When the British Army switched to a new and improved service rifle, the Canadian government perversely built the Canadian Cartridge Factory to manufacture ammunition for the

Snider-Enfields.12

Part of the problem was the amount of funding the Militia received during the 1870s. The

Treaty of Washington, followed by an economic depression, inclined the government to skimp on military spending. In 1871, the government appropriated $1,562,023 to the Militia. This amount dropped to $1,013,943 in 1875 and to $550,451 in 1876. The deleterious effects of these cuts were soon felt. The Militia Department’s 1880 annual report complained of inefficiency, poorly trained units, equipment deterioration, and the restriction of training periods.13 Nevertheless, the 1870s were not without some bright spots for the Canadian Militia.

The Militia took two significant steps forward that decade with the creation of Canadian regulars and a military college. In 1871, the government authorized permanent garrisons of artillery to maintain and guard the Quebec and Kingston citadels. Officers and men seconded from the

Militia for three to twelve months formed these forces. The administrative difficulties involved with seconding militiamen prompted the recruitment of regulars for three-year periods of service, beginning in 1873. The resulting long-term cadre became the Royal Schools of Gunnery and marked

12Morton, Military History of Canada, 96; Stacey, Military Problems of Canada, 65; Stanley, Canada’s Soldiers, 248.

13Chambers, Canadian Militia, 101; Granatstein, Canada’s Army, 27-28; Stanley, Canada’s Soldiers, 243, 247. 25 the beginning of what became the Permanent Force. One hundred and forty-three officers and 166 other ranks staffed these schools. The schools’ main responsibility was instructing the militia. The government was pleased its regulars could help the British garrison in Halifax defend Canada.

Ottawa opened the Royal Military College (RMC) in 1876 to give Canada’s young men a military and scientific education. By 1894, only 10 graduates had joined the Permanent Force while 84 sought better career advancement by joining imperial units elsewhere. Others joined the militia, lending that force much needed proficiency.14 Opening the college was another sign that the government realized it must take responsibility for the training and education of its officers according to professional standards.

There were mixed feelings toward the new regulars. One anonymous author, writing in

Colburn’s United Service Magazine in 1875, praised the gunnery schools’ efforts to instruct citizen soldiers. He called for the establishment of infantry, engineer, and cavalry schools. “What can be done with an army which has little or no training?” he asked, “Nothing can possibly make up for the deficiency.” He therefore suggested the militia be reduced in size, with only the best officers and soldiers remaining. These men could then benefit from more regular and intensive training, bringing them up to the standards of any regiment in . Finally, the author criticized the granting of military ranks for social purposes as “ruinous to [Canada’s] military well-being.”15 The equally anonymous “Two Militiamen” offered an opposing viewpoint in an article steeped in the Militia

Myth and full of praise for Canada’s past citizen soldiers. The authors insinuated that the cost of the

14Chambers, Canadian Militia, 99; Granatstein, Canada’s Army, 26; Grodzinski, “Modicum of Professionalism,” 103-4, 108; Harris, Canadian Brass, 19; Morton, Military History of Canada, 93-94; Stacey, Military Problems of Canada, 64; Stanley, Canada’s Soldiers, 242-43.

15“Canada as a Military Power,” Colburn’s United Service Magazine, October 1875, microfiche, 2-10. 26 small regular cadre would be better spent on expanded drill and larger numbers of militia.16 Neither article advocated lower defense costs. In fact, both criticized the militia’s deficiencies in arms, uniforms, and size.

A new Militia Act in 1883 authorized additional royal schools, in the guises of another artillery battery, one of cavalry, and three companies of infantry. Ottawa authorized a mounted infantry school and a fourth infantry school in 1885, in response to an internal crisis. The third artillery school was only organized in 1887, in response to fears of an Anglo-Russian war. The government provided limited equipment to these schools. The cavalry school borrowed its arms, uniforms and equipment from a militia regiment until it could afford its own. The strength of all schools was not to exceed 750, but reached 1,000 by 1887. Yet these numbers proved too meager to meet the Militia’s needs as administrative duties monopolized most of the personnel’s time. The

Minister of Militia from 1880 to 1892, Sir Adolphe Caron, appointed officers to the schools based on political acceptability, social connections, and regional representation. Nearly all of the first officers Caron commissioned had some military experience. Caron imposed the restriction that all had to pass a qualification exam. Ottawa established these long-promised schools after its reelection as a reward for the militia’s loyalty. Many militia units, however, worried about their share of government money. Taxpayers expressed concern over this decision, fearful lest a military caste take root in Canada.17 It would take more to move the government toward additional support for the tiny

Permanent Force.

16Two Militiamen, “A Plea for the Militia,” Canadian Monthly, February 1879, microfiche, 1-8.

17Chambers, Canadian Militia, 101; Granatstein, Canada’s Army, 27-28; Worthington, Spur and Sprocket, 6. 27

The 1885 Northwest Rebellion was the Militia’s first real test. Led by , Métis and

Indian groups formed a provisional government at Batoche in March. They hoped to force Ottawa to redress their land claims grievances. GOC Major General Frederick Middleton improvised the of 7,982 men, including staff, logistics, transport, and medical services. Militia units were drawn from across Canada. The Permanent Force mobilized all its personnel for field service, a pitiable total of 363 all ranks. The Militia’s four senior staff officers led the expedition, leaving all administrative and support duties to civilians who cared little for their charge. Patronage influenced many of their choices for suppliers. Caron played politics in selecting the expedition’s officers.

Three ponderous columns of Militia and Northwest Mounted converged on the Métis and

Indians, but those troops lacked the mobility to harry their opponents. At the Battle of Batoche in early May, impetuous militiamen charged the rebels’ rifle pits, scattering them and taking the .

The rebellion ended in July after the last of Riel’s Indian allies surrendered. The end result was that the militia effectively won the West for Canada, and that only reinforced the Militia Myth.18

Even in this successful campaign, many problems surfaced. The government only provided equipment for about 5,000 troops, leaving many soldiers without necessary gear. In addition to costing time as the troops waited to be outfitted, this deficiency wasted money as unscrupulous suppliers charged the government premium prices, sometimes for defective goods. The troops did not want for vital supplies, but the improvised logistical system depended upon private supply posts in the area of hostilities. Tactically, Middleton favored caution. At times, he found his forces badly outmatched by the rebels’ mobility and sharpshooting. Middleton defended his methodical approach by voicing doubts about the reliability of his untrained militia troops in combat. Spokesmen for the

18Granatstein, Canada’s Army, 28-29; Stanley, Canada’s Soldiers, 251-58. 28 militia objected to such criticism and depicted Middleton’s performance as lackluster. They questioned whether Canadians needed British tutelage or leadership. The furor over Middleton’s comments and conduct obscured the war’s real lessons – the need for a supply and transportation organization, medical services, engineers, and ready battalions with mobilization plans for various contingencies.19

The Northwest Rebellion fit into the prevailing pattern of military crises in Canada. The uprising caught the government unprepared and it had to scramble to make the appropriate arrangements. Once the crisis passed, the government slashed funding for training, ammunition and equipment from the budget. An economic depression motivated that decision in the late 1880s, but the politicians’ customary indifference toward the Militia in peacetime also played a part.20 Such actions made it hard to establish and maintain an efficient military force.

During the 1890s, Canada’s new GOC, Major General Ivor Herbert, found many of the same problems plaguing the Militia. In 1891, he reported that smoothbore muskets were more serviceable weapons than the Militia’s aged Snider-Enfields. The Militia lacked the money to properly maintain or repair its weapons and equipment. Rickety artillery carriages had to be patched back together for training exercises. What little equipment, accouterments, and other personal gear the Militia possessed slowly fell apart over the years without being replaced. Uniforms were required to last well past their expected lifespan. Some soldiers went to camp with only partial uniforms. When Ottawa issued new uniforms to a unit, the basis was political considerations not need; some units received

19Chambers, Canadian Militia, 102; Granatstein, Canada’s Army, 32; Morton, Military History of Canada, 106-7; Stanley, Canada’s Soldiers, 258.

20Worthington, Spur and the Sprocket, 12; Stanley, Canada’s Soldiers, 263-64. 29 constant resupply while others did without. As before, officers were political appointees and city units were little more than political organizations. Herbert advised Caron against granting to individuals as a cheap title, which he blamed for the unfortunate state of the militia. But patronage was too ingrained in the system to be easily expunged. The Conservative party’s election victory in 1892 brought real benefits to those militia units with the right political connections. Caron redeemed a pre-election promise by granting Toronto a larger armory, a rifle range, two additional companies for the Royal battalion, and creation of the 48th Highlanders of Canada.21

The nascent Permanent Force faced hard times. Its pay rates ranked lower than those for militiamen or even common laborers. The troops had to endure substandard living conditions and rations. Only military enthusiasts and others who had failed at other walks of life enlisted. Five out of six regulars were either raw recruits or employed in support roles. These men were hard-pressed to serve as instructors as they had seen so little service themselves. Herbert uncovered many problems within the Permanent Force in an 1887 inspection tour. He found its schools racked with jealousies, insubordination, and desertions. These institutions did not follow uniform training curricula, even in the same branches. Officers, especially subalterns, lacked both the proper fitness and educational qualifications. Most acted solely as administrators, feeling little obligation to conduct training or improve their military expertise. Even if inclined to gain additional education, the few conscientious officers found few opportunities to do so. Such deficient leaders rarely earned the militia’s respect. Those officers concerned about their responsibilities spent more time training their own men than the militia. Chances for promotion seemed bleak with small school sizes, flexible

21Granatstein, Canada’s Army, 32; Ronald G. Haycock, Sam Hughes: The Public Career of a Controversial Canadian 1885-1916 (Canada: Wilfred Laurier Press, 1986), 48; Desmond Morton, The Canadian General: Sir William Otter (Toronto: Hakkert, 1974), 141; Stanley, Canada’s Soldiers, 263-4. 30 retirement ages, and ministerial whim prevailing over merit or seniority. Officers used whatever political connections they had for advancement. Stephen Harris noted: “The conditions of service, the lack of opportunity to do real soldiering, the financial insecurity, and the continuing importance of party political considerations crimped the development of a self-disciplined, cohesive, and professional military force.”22

Despite these problems, the Permanent Force fared better than some of the militia, which resulted in hostility. The regulars received funds and equipment that would have otherwise gone to the militia. Militiamen railed against the regulars for usurping the militia’s role as Canada’s first line of defense, their alleged incompetence, and the patronage connected with promotions. These charges became standard fare in a magazine titled the Canadian Military Gazette. The Gazette first appeared in 1885 and served as the militia’s mouthpiece. While unkind, these charges carried the ring of truth.23 But militia supporters criticizing the Permanent Force for patronage left themselves open to accusations of partisan hypocrisy.

Nevertheless, General Herbert strove to improve the Militia. He sensed that until the citizen soldiers respected the regulars, there was little chance of improving the former. Thus he sought to upgrade Permanent Force standards. Herbert adopted a uniform training syllabus for basic recruit instruction. In 1892, he transformed the infantry and cavalry schools into regiments. He hoped to stop the infighting and instill regimental spirit, imbuing the schools with the kind of pride that had served the British Army in such good stead. The four companies of the Infantry School formed the

22Granatstein, Canada’s Army, 33; Harris, Canadian Brass, 25-29; Morton, Canadian General, 143; Stanley, Canada’s Soldiers, 265.

23Granatstein, Canada’s Army, 32; Harris, Canadian Brass, 25-27; Haycock, Sam Hughes, 19. 31

Royal Canadian Regiment. The Cavalry School merged with the Mounted Infantry School to become the Royal Canadian . The regulars received new equipment and uniforms, but the government cancelled summer camps as a result. The Royal Canadian Regiment, however, held its first concentration two years later, supported by elements of the Royal Canadian Artillery. Herbert also persuaded Ottawa that militia officers must qualify for promotions. Unqualified officers had to take formal training at RMC, attend a school in England, or retire. Herbert convinced the government that Canadian junior officers should train at the British garrison in Halifax. Later, those officers would attend courses, take exams, accept detached duty, and participate in maneuvers in England.

There were many militiamen who saw these reforms as an attempt to make the Permanent Force into a standing army rather than the militia’s instructors. Instead of appreciating the potential benefits to the militia, they regarded Herbert’s reforms as a step toward a police state. Within a year of Herbert’s departure, most of his reforms had been swept away, partially by the officers themselves.24

The Militia by this point could barely function as a . Historian Brian

Reid writes that it was: “Still little more than a cross between a service club and a volunteer fire department . . . [that was] capable of little more than parading and strike-breaking.”25 Between 1876 and 1914, the Militia was called out to aid the civil power 48 times, primarily in response to civil disturbances, strikes, natural disasters, and elections. Ottawa’s meager funding of the Militia

24Harris, Canadian Brass, 28-31; Haycock, Sam Hughes, 49; Morton, Canadian General, 143; Stanley, Canada’s Soldiers, 266-67; Worthington, Spur and the Sprocket, 9.

25Brian A. Reid, “‘A most dashing advance:’ Paardeberg, 27 February 1900,” in More Fighting for Canada: Five Battles, 1760-1944, ed. Donald E. Graves (Toronto: Robin Bass Studio, 2004), 157. 32 amounted to only about $0.44 per capita in 1895. The Militia was smaller that year than it had been twenty years earlier, reflecting the indifferent attitude toward national defense.26

The Venezuelan border crisis in 1896 demonstrated how unseriously Canadians took military preparations. GOC Major General William Gascoigne, struggled without a staff, Militia minister, or mobilization plan during the crisis. He did not understand the apathetic Canadian response to what appeared to be imminent war between the United States and Great Britain. Many Canadians dismissed the war warnings as mere turbulence given off by American domestic politics during a presidential election year. Military writers, including those at the Canadian Military Gazette, took the threat more seriously and urged militia reform. Canadian lethargy toward preparations reflected expectations of British support in a war. In a token step, Ottawa purchased 40,000 Lee Enfield rifles and 2,300 carbines to replace the decrepit Snider-Enfields.27

Gascoigne did not last long. The Liberal party won the federal election in 1896. Sir Frederick

Borden became Minister of the Militia, a post he held until 1911. Gascoigne was unable to convince

Borden of the necessity for certain reforms. Borden rejected Gascoigne’s scheme to limit new officer appointments to RMC graduates, which would have reduced political influence on promotions.

Borden also rejected the notion of allowing the Permanent Force to conduct operational training on its own. Major General E.T. Hutton became GOC in 1898.28

26Grodzinski, “Modicum of Professionalism,” 118; Bernd Horn and Ronald G. Haycock, “The Primacy of National Command: Boer War Lesson Learned,” in Horn, Canadian Way of War, 139.

27Harris, Canadian Brass, 32; Morton, Military History of Canada, 110-11; Richard A. Preston, The Defence of the Undefended Border: Planning for War in North America 1867-1939 (Montreal: McGill-Queen’s University Press,), 126-27, 130, 132; Stanley, Canada’s Soldiers, 273-75.

28Harris, Canadian Brass, 33, 59. 33

General Hutton believed many Canadian regular officers had resumed a lackadaisical attitude that detracted from their professional growth. He preferred to leave the Permanent Force’s service conditions as they were until it proved its worth by its own educational efforts. Borden and Hutton wanted the regulars to concentrate on teaching the militia. Unlike his predecessors, Hutton believed the proper basis for Canada’s defense was a “National Army” of 100,000 well-trained, well-led, and well-equipped citizen soldiers. He wanted a balanced and ready force, free from political interference. Borden, however, saw patronage as his prerogative. He worried that separating the

Militia from politics would lead to the loss of his authority to Hutton. Some of Hutton’s basic reforms impacted profoundly on the Militia. He improved the quality of food at camps, issued more practical uniforms, provided proper boots, and placed less emphasis on elementary drill training in camps for field training and maneuvers. Hutton introduced a four-month staff course for militia officers at RMC that concentrated on operational and administrative staff duties. In 1898, Hutton drafted new defense plans that introduced the idea of a Canadian expeditionary force supporting a

British army outside of North America.29 This was part of a larger British attempt to harness

Canadian military strength.

Also in 1898, the Canadian Defense Committee –staffed by British officers and government officials– attempted to convince Canadians to reform its Militia. The committee concluded that

Canada needed its own command and staff officers and a transport and supply system so that the

Militia could effectively mobilize. The committee’s report went unpublished so as to not invite a possible American invasion. This was an incongruous development, as Anglo-American relations

29Chambers, Canadian Militia, 102; Harris, Canadian Brass, 34, 64, 79-80; Morton, Military History of Canada, 111-12; Morton, Canadian General, 158. 34 had warmed considerably over the past two years. In retrospect, it appears that the Britons on the committee wanted to develop Canadian military strength for imperial purposes.30 Ironically, Canada’s military would soon be needed by the empire.

In 1899, Great Britain went to war against the Boer republics. The decision to send Canadian troops to was a contentious one for Ottawa. Prime Minister Sir Wilfred Laurier felt caught between French Canadian apathy and opposition to the war and English Canadian jingoism.

Canada’s yellow press and imperial-minded politicians agitated to get the country into the war.31 War fever in English Canada forced Laurier to choose between sending troops to South Africa or resigning. In October, Laurier announced his intention to enlist a battalion of volunteers for service in South Africa. Rather than being subsumed as replacements, the 2nd (Special Service) Battalion,

Royal Canadian Regiment, fought as a distinct Canadian unit. William Otter, a regular, commanded the battalion. This “first contingent” embarked for South Africa on October 30 with 1,061 of all ranks.32

Otter’s battalion had many problems. Most of his officers and men lacked meaningful military experience. Regulars or policemen comprised only 13 percent of the battalion; urban militia units provided the bulk of the recruits. Just twelve of the officers were regulars. Otter soon decided

30Preston, Undefended Border, 144-48.

31Granatstein, Canada’s Army, 36. Recent studies have revealed that the response in English Canada was not as monolithic as is often portrayed. The pro-war groups were mostly urban, middle-class – a loose coalition of progressives, nationalists, pragmatists, and partisan politicians – all special interests likely to favour imperialism. They saw Canada’s participation in the war as an “initiation rite” that would give it a voice in the empire and extend Canada’s autonomy by ridding itself of colonial status. The opposition in English Canada came mostly from farmers, radical labor, Protestant clergy, and Anglophobes. Their numbers were too small and spread-out to form a viable opposition, nor did they have the machinery, such as control of newspapers, to circulate their message. Carman Miller, Painting the Map Red: Canada and the South African War, 1899-1902 (Montreal: McGill-Queen’s University Press, 1993), 16, 19, 22, 26.

32Miller, Painting the Map Red, 48-53. 35 the rest were inadequate. The Militia authorities gave about one-quarter of the Permanent Force soldiers in the 2nd Battalion a non-commissioned officer rank in order to train the men and to “stiffen” the companies. Chafing at drill and parade-square maneuvers, the amateurs considered discipline and tradition forced and artificial, and felt the training wasted time on repetition, posturing, and verbal abuse. Raised in the Militia Myth and with little social difference between themselves and their officers, the ranks began to complain. The four newspaper reporters accompanying the battalion provided a ready outlet for the grievances.33

The 2nd Battalion spent the voyage and its first months in South Africa training. Otter’s companies were hastily drawn from different parts of Canada and had no time to practice before embarkation. The companies practiced musketry and basic drill aboard ship. Upon in South

Africa, the battalion moved to Belmont, where it drilled for seven weeks, including extended order maneuvers and skirmishing. Otter wanted his battalion to be as disciplined and proficient as any

British battalion, and not dismissed as “colonials.” The Canadians joined Major General Horace

Smith-Dorrien’s 19th of the 9th in early February 1900.34

Canada offered a “second contingent” three days after the first sailed. The war had gotten off to a bad start. “Black Week,” December 10-15, 1899, which brought stunning Boer victories at

Stormberg, Magersfontein, and Colenso, compelled the British government to accept the offer. After those setbacks, Canadians expressed greater willingness to support the war, even .

The second contingent consisted of two mounted rifle battalions, each with an establishment of 371 officers and men, and a Royal Canadian Field Artillery (RCFA) brigade containing 539 of all ranks.

33Ibid., 50, 66-68, 72, 86.

34Miller, Painting the Map Red, 81; Morton, Canadian General, 174-84, 206. 36

The mounted rifle battalions were the Royal Canadian Dragoons (named after the Permanent Force regiment) and the 2nd Battalion, Canadian Mounted Rifles, commanded by Lieutenant Colonels F. L.

Lessard and L. W. Herchmer, respectively. Men for the two mounted battalions were mostly drawn from the Militia and Northwest . In the dragoons, ten out of eleven sergeants came from the Permanent Force, as did more than 50 percent of the officers. Lieutenant Colonel C. W.

Drury commanded the RCFA brigade. It had three batteries, each with a section of Permanent Force troops and officers. Nine of the brigade’s twenty-one officers were from the Permanent Force.35

These Canadian units won accolades in South Africa. The Royal Canadian Regiment fought well at Paardeberg and the capture of Bloemfontein. It also participated in the that followed those battles. Both mounted battalions engaged in a stubborn fight at the Battle of

Liliefontein, using the Boers’ own tactics of mobility and accurate fire to engage and defeat superior numbers of Afrikaners. While Canadians tasted glory, they also paid a price for it; 242 of them died in South Africa.36

Canada’s military community gained valuable practical experience from the conflict. Of 106

Canadian generals in the First World War, 34 were South African War veterans. Several other

Canadian officers who rose to prominence in the Great War were also veterans of fighting against the

Boers. In addition, the country experienced a surge of self-conscious from having aided the empire. Canadians gained confidence in themselves and a sense of their own autonomy. Fighting under Canadian officers fostered a sense of pride and accomplishment in both the soldiers and their

35Miller, Painting the Map Red, 75, 155, 159-63, 165, 169; Morton, Military History of Canada, 116; Stanley, Canada’s Soldiers, 281; Worthington, Spur and the Sprocket, 14.

36Miller, Painting the Map Red, 110, 134, 198, 276, 285; Worthington, Spur and the Sprocket, 20. 37 civilian supporters. Many Canadian veterans, as well as Borden, began to question whether a British officer should hold the top Militia position. Many Canadians thought their troops had outperformed their British comrades, who seemed to insist on tradition, red tape and “five o’clock tea principles.”

Part of this attitude resulted from the British Army’s shortcomings in South Africa, particularly the provision of food and medical services to the common soldiers. This fit right into the Militia Myth as it existed in Canada at the time.

For most Canadians, the most important lesson of the Boer War, in addition to the importance of musketry skills, mobility, and better training, was the prowess of the citizen soldier. As the

Canadian Military Gazette commented in 1902: “The soldier, especially the Canadian soldier, is born, and that no making is necessary.”37 This statement obviously ignored the months of training, both on ship and in South Africa, that the Canadian contingents needed before they could fight the

Boers. The war seemed to confirm the myth despite the prominent role played by Permanent Force personnel. The military and political elites of Canada had their natural prejudice against the regular soldier validated, even if it was the British soldier, and they could see little difference between the regular and the citizen who became an expert . The idea had widespread support, leading to the creation of rifle clubs, shooting ranges and cadet corps schools across Canada. These groups were inspired by a new military enthusiasm that spread to most parts of the Dominion. Canadians praised Boer tactics. Several cavalry units converted to mounted infantry and other ones formed in

Western Canada. Many myth believers missed the fact that the African veldt made an ideal setting for irregular troops. Canadian troops could not always count on fighting in such an environment. The

Canadian public also forgot that the Boers lost the war in part because they lacked the discipline,

37Horn and Haycock, “Primacy of National Command,” 156, 157. 38 subordination, and cohesiveness of regular soldiers. While the British moved more toward a better trained professional army, Canadians continued to insist that the militia met Canada’s defense needs.38

II

The new sense of Canadian martial prowess that emerged from the Boer War furnished

Borden with the opportunity to reform the Militia. While mostly successful, he was hindered by political patronage, inertia within the Militia, and public apathy. Between the Boer War and the beginning of the First World War, the Militia added more services to step away from its auxiliary status. At the Imperial Conferences in 1907 and 1909, however, Borden drew the Militia closer to the British Army even as the former grew more independent. But the Militia struggled to find its purpose. What was Canada’s main threat? The United States no longer seemed menacing, but many

Britons would have disagreed. Beginning in 1911, the Permanent Force languished under the ministerial reign of Sam Hughes. Hughes, a longtime militia officer, firmly believed in the Militia

Myth. He worked to improve the militia at the expense of the regulars.39

After the South African War, the British high command continued to harbor lingering fears of an American attack on Canada. Most Canadians realized the United States was no longer a military threat. The Admiralty rated the possibility of a war between Britain and United States as low. The British and Imperial General Staff, on the other hand, continued to voice

38Granatstein, Canada’s Army, 45; Haycock, Sam Hughes, 94; Lieutenant Colonel Bernd Horn, “‘Lost Opportunity’: The Boer War Experience and its Influence on British and Canadian Military Thought,” in Forging a Nation: Perspectives on the Canadian Military Experience, ed. Bernd Horn (St. Catherines: Vanwell Publishing Limited, 2002), 82, 91, 94-96; Miller, Painting the Map Red, 425, 437; Morton, Canadian General, 242; Morton, Military History of Canada, 117-18.

39Horn and Haycock, “Primacy of National Command,” 159. 39 concerns about the American threat until at least 1913. The British Army’s ulterior motive was that it wanted the Militia’s help in defending the Empire elsewhere. But such a policy was not politically acceptable in Canada.40 The British turned to harping on the unlikely possibility of a war with the

United States as the only way to get Canadians to commit to sustained military preparations which, in turn, would be used where Britain required them.

The South African War allowed Borden to increase Militia budgets and raise the authorized establishment to 100,000. The Militia’s budget soared from $2,197,559 in 1900-01 to $5,594,009 in 1905-06. The main increases went to salaries for the staff and Permanent Force, construction of military facilities, and purchases of equipment and arms. Borden and the new GOC, Lord Dundonald, added new branches, including Guides, Army Service, Medical, Dental, Ordnance, Pay, Veterinary,

Signals, Intelligence, and Engineering. Borden accepted that professionals were needed to fight modern wars and strove to do more for them. The Militia could now take the field on its own without being a mere British auxiliary.41

Lord Dundonald agreed with General Hutton’s “National Army” idea, with the militia as

Canada’s first line of defense. He wanted a core force of 50,000 men that could be expanded in a war. Borden and Dundonald decided the Permanent Force would continue to organize, administer, and instruct the militia. Dundonald also addressed the regulars’ needs, including a pension scheme,

40Harris, Canadian Brass, 67, 83; Morton, Ministers and Generals, 196; Preston, Undefended Border, 153- 54, 157, 169, 204. In 1910, a retired British military officer, Major General C. W. Robinson, wrote a book on defending Canada against an American attack. C. W. Robinson, Canada and Canadian Defence: The Defensive Policy of the Dominion in Relation to the Character of Her Frontier, The Events of the War of 1812-14, and Her Position To-Day (Toronto: Musson Book Company, 1910), 3-6, 99, 146.

41Chambers, Canadian Militia, 115; Granatstein, Canada’s Army, 45; Harris, Canadian Brass, 219; Stanley, Canada’s Soldiers, 291. 40 higher pay rates, and living allowances for most junior officers when quarters were unavailable. The

1904 Militia Act enlarged the Permanent Force to 2,000 men.

Thanks to the Militia Myth, however, regular service did not command much prestige in

Canada. Five vacancies in the officer corps due to casualties in the South African War were filled slowly. Graduates from RMC could not be enticed to join. Only by raising the image of the

Permanent Force could this change. Lord Dundonald instituted the policy of assigning as many militia officers and NCOs as possible each year to the Permanent Force to undergo special training.

He concentrated on developing the Permanent Force’s leadership, hoping to produce good officers and NCOs. He adopted British training methods and doctrines for the Militia, and issued units new drill books. Finally, he wanted summer camps to concentrate on practical subjects to allow a soldier to take the field, rather than ceremonial ones.42 Dundonald’s next step was to adopt systematic and lasting reforms to improve the educational standards of his officers.

Dundonald instituted numerous changes to effect this educational revolution. Many of these changes duplicated previous GOCs’ directives, demonstrating the Militia’s tendency to backslide when not guided firmly. All unqualified Permanent Force officers were sent to RMC to complete their education. For future regular officer appointments, Dundonald devised a scheme that gave first priority to RMC graduates, then university graduates who had officer training from RMC, and finally those who had qualified for a militia commission. The latter was on probation for five years so senior officers could judge their performance. Dundonald insisted that all promotions to and above required a passing grade on the British Army’s examination for that rank. Any officer

42Granatstein, Canada’s Army, 45; Harris, Canadian Brass, 35; Morton, Military History of Canada, 119; Morton, Canadian General, 261; Worthington, Spur and The Sprocket, 38. 41 without an RMC education, whether as a cadet or graduate of Hutton’s staff course, could not be promoted above their current rank. For militia officers, Borden reserved the right of patronage as he saw fit.43

More changes to the Permanent Force followed. In 1905, Borden increased its authorized size to 3,000 of all ranks and raised its pay scale to that of the mounted police. Recruiting was still difficult due to high civilian wages. Borden promised the Permanent Force time to conduct its training, but not at the expense of its obligations to the militia. The regulars experienced difficulty completing their own training and supervising that of the militia. In actuality, the Permanent Force had only three concentrations between 1894 and 1914. The first two were in 1894 and 1899. The third concentration gathered most of the Permanent Force in June and July of 1907 at Camp

Petawawa for combined training and field operations. The staff planned to make the exercises an annual event but funding limitations prevented this. Some regulars viewed the militia as amateurs and its officers unworthy of their commands. For their part, many militiamen felt the regulars still lacked credibility.44 Unfortunately, both groups were mainly right.

Another Borden reform was the adoption of a Militia Council in November 1904 with the new

Militia Act. The council was modeled on Britain’s Army Council. Its members included the senior members of the department and the General Staff. The Militia Council dealt with all matters that affected the department. It allowed the members to keep in constant contact with one another and kept a record of its decisions, which prevented them from lapsing after personnel changeovers.

43Grodzinski, “Modicum of Professionalism,” 128; Harris, Canadian Brass, 35-36.

44Grodzinski, “Modicum of Professionalism,” 124-25; Harris, Canadian Brass, 37-38; Morton, Canadian General, 260-61, 264. 42

Borden reserved his approval on every matter. The act also created the Chief of the General Staff position (CGS), replacing the GOC, and added an inspector general to the General Staff to advise on the Militia’s war readiness. The CGS was placed under the authority of the minister, rather than virtually independent of him as with the GOC. Adding more staff incited complaints from the militia, but its officers applauded the act’s provision that removed the requirement that the head of the Militia be a British officer. Ottawa wanted to reduce British influence over Canadian military decisions.

Canadians had begun to suspect that British advice served British ends.45

Canada’s military independence wavered in the decade proceeding the First World War. The

British turned over the Halifax and Esquimalt naval bases to Canada on July 1, 1905. The two fortresses garrisons totaled 1,500 men. With the final departure of British troops, the Militia now had to learn how to train and modernize itself to meet the changing demands of modern warfare and the potential for overseas commitments. Ottawa subsequently increased the Permanent Force’s authorized strength to 4,000. By 1908, the regulars’ had only 2,730 of all ranks and each fortress garrison was below strength. That same year, Canadian-born Otter replaced Major General

Percy Lake as CGS. Lake became Inspector General and received a seat on the Militia Council at

Borden’s insistence. Lake had designed the CGS position for himself and made sure his voice was heard on all policy aspects in the department. When he shifted jobs, his voice continued to be heard.

Borden justified Lake’s presence on the Militia Council by describing him as his “Chief Military

Adviser,” which was supposed to be the CGS’s role. A Canadian had finally reached the Militia’s

45Chambers, Canadian Militia, 110; Granatstein, Canada’s Army, 46-47; Harris, Canadian Brass, 72-73; Miller, Painting the Map Red, 438-39; Major W. Alexander Morrison, The Voice of Defence: The History of the Conference of Defence Associations, The First Fifty Years 1932-1982 (Ottawa: Department of National Defense, 1982), 20; Morton, Military History of Canada, 119-20; Preston, Undefended Border, 166; Stacey, Military Problems of Canada, 67; Stanley, Canada’s Soldiers, 291, 297, 299-300. 43 top position, but Borden had reduced its importance. Lake accompanied Borden to the 1909 Imperial

Conference, not Otter.46

The 1909 conference’s main topic was the standardization of units, arrangements for transportation, and patterns of weapons. At the 1907 conference, the British had spoken of uniform training, organization, equipment, stores, and ammunition. The idea of standardization was to turn the Dominion into replicas of the British Army. This agreement resulted in Canadian officers continuing to train in Great Britain. At the Imperial Conference in 1911, Borden made arrangements for Canadian officers to attend staff courses at the Camberley and Quetta colleges.47 These Imperial

Conferences tied the Canadian Militia to emulating the British example and reaffirmed the former’s subordinate status.

Field Marshal Sir John French, Inspector General of Imperial Forces, inspected the Militia in 1910. He gave it a poor grade based on Borden’s criteria, which were the Militia’s readiness to maintain internal order, its ability to defend Canada, and its readiness to furnish expeditionary forces to other parts of the Empire. French criticized several areas in his report. The General Staff was too small, he reported, and inadequate for its tasks. Consequently, the Militia lacked a complete mobilization plan, either for home defense or an expeditionary force. The Militia’s arms and services were out of proportion, comparing what was necessary for mobilization and what it fielded. He cited the Militia’s need for more artillery and more efficient cavalry. The geographical distribution of units was unsuitable, with the majority clustered in . He noted that several inefficient

46Chambers, Canadian Militia, 113, 115; Grodzinski, “Modicum of Professionalism,” 127; Morton, Canadian General, 292-94; Stanley, Canada’s Soldiers, 301.

47Stanley, Canada’s Soldiers, 303-4. 44 units’ existence depended on political considerations and not military ones. French commented that the militia’s training was poor because units tended to be preoccupied with ceremonial drill and showy uniforms. Their combat training was mostly limited to small unit tactics. The militia suffered from a shortage of officers and NCOs and they were not required to qualify for their rank. Sir John criticized the Permanent Force’s inability to function efficiently in the field and to properly supervise the militia’s instruction.48

The Militia made several changes before the First World War. Addressing an important criticism from French’s report, Otter revived Hutton’s militia staff course in 1910. One-hundred twenty-four officers graduated before 1914. The Militia adopted longer and more realistic training and saw better discipline in the ranks. Between 1911 and 1914, Borden’s successor, Sir Sam

Hughes, nearly doubled the budget line for the militia’s annual drill, equipment, and stores. By 1914, more than fifty new armories and drill halls had been built across Canada, which helped company- level training. In 1911, Otter and Borden tasked Colonel to draw up mobilization plans for a general mobilization and an expeditionary force. The general plan was not without its defects; it neglected almost entirely. Its decentralized nature placed responsibility with the local commanders for recruiting, remounting, and procuring their own supplies from local sources. Ottawa refused to consider disbanding surplus units or forming new ones to complete the theoretical divisions. By 1914, the Militia lacked eleven artillery of various types, all divisional ammunition columns, and several engineer companies.49

48Colonel J. Sutherland Brown, “Military Policy of Canada, 1905-1924, and Suggestions for the Future,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 1 (July 1924): 21-22; Granatstein, Canada’s Army, 48; Haycock, Sam Hughes, 141; Morton, Canadian General, 304; Preston, Undefended Border, 209; Stanley, Canada’s Soldiers, 306.

49Brown, “Military Policy of Canada,” 23-24; Granatstein, Canada’s Army, 48; Harris, Canadian Brass, 80; Haycock, Sam Hughes, 139-40; Morton, Canadian General, 305-9. 45

The Conservative election victory in September 1911 brought Sir Sam Hughes to the

Department of Militia. Hughes was a man of unbridled confidence, energy, and ego. A firm believer in the Militia Myth, he intensely disliked the Permanent Force and its staff. He thought regulars were “failures” and could not qualitatively compare to militia officers. He was initially rejected from serving with Canada’s forces in the South African War, but eventually served with distinction in a

British unit before Field Marshal Lord Roberts ordered him home after numerous insubordinate letters to senior officers. Hughes emerged from the Boer War with his belief in the inherent superiority of part-time soldiers over regulars firmer than ever. By 1911, he was the most senior colonel in the militia. After becoming minister, he summoned his senior officers and informed them to expect more camps and drill halls, and moral backing of the militia. He scolded the Permanent

Force for pretending to supplant the militia as Canada’s first line of defense. He announced that he would increase the militia at the expense of the Permanent Force and confine the latter to instructional duties. He wanted an efficient, volunteer militia to defend Canada and the Empire. The militia rejoiced at Hughes’ handling of the department and his berating the “bar-room loafers.” At a conference of militia officers in November 1911, which was as much a social occasion as it was a serious discussion of military matters, he vowed to curb the supposed snobbishness of the General

Staff.50

But Hughes did not treat all elements of the militia with a fair hand. His Orangeman and

Conservative prejudices influenced his official conduct. Hughes outlawed church parades, particularly in Quebec where Canadien regiments often paraded. Hughes also eliminated some units

50Harris, Canadian Brass, 86-87, 91; Haycock, Sam Hughes, 93, 135-37; Morrison, Voice of Defence, 21; Morton, Canadian General, 308-9; Morton, Military History of Canada, 127. 46 from the militia rolls, seemingly due to their Liberal connections. The 86th Three Rivers Regiment was over 40 years old and had more than 200 of all ranks training in a new armory when Hughes disbanded the regiment for having too many Liberal officers for his liking.51

Hughes clashed often with his new CGS, Major General Colin Mackenzie. The CGS complained of the breezy manner with which the minister ran the department. The main points of contention revolved around whether the Permanent Force should be used solely for instructional purposes or as a standing army and the issue of provisional schools. Mackenzie argued that if the

Permanent Force only acted as instructors, then the garrisons, field force, staff at various levels, and mobilization cadres would suffer. These elements were all needed for the proper functioning of the

Militia as a whole. In late 1911, Hughes ordered the proliferation of provisional schools across the country without conferring with the Militia Council or Mackenzie. Hughes believed provisional schools were a convenient means for militia officers to qualify for appointment or promotion without attending RMC or by attachment to the Permanent Force. Mackenzie countered that provisional schools diluted standards and forced extra duties on the already overburdened regulars. Mackenzie correctly judged the militia ill-trained and badly officered. He asserted that militia commanders who did not take the time to train their subordinates should be replaced. As these men were often patronage appointments, this was not likely to happen. Mackenzie’s argument that only a competent professional corps of regulars with sufficient numbers could turn the militia into an efficient force of citizen soldiers made no impression on Hughes. Mackenzie staffed 45 provisional schools as best

51Granatstein, Canada’s Army, 52; Morton, Military History of Canada, 128. 47 he could for 1913.52 Hughes’ scheme made some sense, as partial training for militia officers was preferable to none.

In retaliation for what Hughes saw as Mackenzie’s insubordination, he simply ignored his

CGS and rarely held Militia Council meetings. Mackenzie had to read about Hughes’ officer appointments in the newspaper. Mackenzie also protested in 1912 against Hughes’ policy of sending militia officers, rather than regulars, to attend European military maneuvers. Hughes then cancelled the Permanent Force’s training in 1912 and assigned the money to the militia. The Permanent Force suffered from Hughes’ ire and its numbers dropped accordingly. In Hughes’ first year and a half as minister, the size of the Permanent Force dropped from 3,520 to 2,996 of all ranks. Even as Hughes claimed to want to increase militia efficiency, he handed out numerous patronage appointments. In

1913 alone, he commissioned twenty-six new honorary colonels or lieutenant colonels, far more than

Borden did throughout his tenure.53

Mackenzie resigned in April 1913 after Hughes promoted himself to major general. This move would have made the minister supreme in the chain of command as both a soldier and a civilian official. Hughes saw this as the ideal citizen soldier. Mackenzie protested this move as a violation of constitutional practices. Hughes did not receive his promotion until the opening months of . Mackenzie’s troubles with Hughes made other British officers reluctant to accept the CGS appointment. Finally, Hughes promoted Colonel Gwatkin to the position.54

52Harris, Canadian Brass, 87-90; Haycock, Sam Hughes, 157-59

53Haycock, Sam Hughes, 139, 140, 146, 159, 160.

54Harris, Canadian Brass, 90-91; Haycock, Sam Hughes, 139-40, 146, 156-62, 170; Morton, Canadian General, 308-11. 48

In 1913, the British Inspector General, General Sir Ian Hamilton, arrived to inspect the

Canadian Militia. Hamilton had commanded Canadian troops in the South African War. Hughes led Hamilton on visits to 112 militia units. Hughes’ energy impressed Hamilton, but he questioned the minister’s personality and methods in some cases. Hamilton found some improvement in the

Militia’s training and organization since French’s report three years earlier, including new armories and drill halls, support for the cadet corps, the encouragement of year-round training for rural militia units, and increased pay. Hamilton lauded the headquarters staff for improvements to organization and drill. Despite the improvements in the training syllabus, Hamilton criticized the length of training as too short. Hamilton found fault with Canada’s lack of military stores. He approved of the slight improvements in officer education, including the provisional schools. He also noted that the Militia had created new units in Western Canada, enough to form three additional mounted brigades and three mixed brigades. One criticism Hamilton omitted from his report was the manner in which Hughes interfered with the functioning of the General Staff because he was unsure how other Dominion’s civil-military relationship worked.55 While progress had been made in three years, there was a lot more to be made. Unfortunately, the coming world war would prevent the complete transformation of the Canadian Militia from a colonial force into a functioning and efficient modern army.

III

The Militia experienced an arduous journey in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.

Its greatest nemesis, more so than any potential enemy, was its own government. Militia funding fluctuated according to political considerations not military necessities. Until the 1868 Militia Act,

55Brown, “Military Policy of Canada,” 25-27; Haycock, Sam Hughes, 168-69. 49 all militias in Canada were temporary. After that act, the Active Militia became Canada’s first line of defense. Even with a seemingly belligerent United States across the border, Canadians refused to commit to a military organization beyond basic steps. It was part of the Canadian political ethos, as justified by the Militia Myth, to ignore the military. Why spend money on an army when “General

Great Britain” and “Admirals Pacific and Atlantic” allowed the luxury of ignoring it? Better to rely on a civilian militia, the kind that had “saved” the country in 1812, and that required little money to support, equip, and train. This kind of thinking cast regulars as poor cousins to the virtuous militia.

The only increases in funding for arms and equipment came during crises. Larger budgets often came too late, had little impact, and Ottawa reduced them once the crisis passed.

The militia became a social and political organization, particularly in cities. A military organization founded and maintained on political principles was unreliable. Unqualified officers, appointed by patronage, could not be expected to maintain well-trained and well-disciplined soldiers.

British instructors were needed to stiffen the militia and oversee its training, but they were no longer available after 1871. The Permanent Force created in the 1870s and 1880s did not qualitatively match the British garrisons that it replaced. The Permanent Force suffered from a lack of training and educational opportunities. British GOCs tried to introduce improvements, but they met with limited success. They could not convince the politicians to allow the Militia to be guided by military principles. Steeped in the Militia Myth and emboldened by the militia’s jealousy, Canadian officials would not improve their regulars or address their needs. There was little legislative debate or public discussion about military matters or defense questions in Canada, suggesting the public had little concern for military affairs. 50

The military enthusiasm aroused by the effort to quell the Boers created an atmosphere receptive to upgrading the Militia. Canadian military spending increased and kept rising until the beginning of the First World War. Borden and Lord Dundonald used the opportunity to make the

Militia more approximate a self-contained army. They worked to ensure that the Permanent Force was becoming more professional and adept at its responsibilities.

The appointment of Sam Hughes as Minister of the Militia highlighted the divide between the militia and the Permanent Force. His antagonism toward the latter resulted in the reduction of its capacities, numbers, and opportunities to learn. But aside from that, his actions were not altogether different from past ministers. His position as minister almost required that political considerations and patronage take precedence over military ones. Hughes and others simply refused to face the question of how neglected and underfunded regulars could hope to adequately train the militia. They expected the militia to simply know how to fight a modern war, forgetting that in the

South African War Canadians saw combat only after months of training. The militia was not a viable field force by any stretch of the imagination. The Militia Myth and a lack of political will prevented

Canada from having an efficient, well-trained, well-equipped, and well-armed Militia. The Militia was still a colonial auxiliary, in most respects, even with the new branches that reduced its reliance on the British Army. The militia was effectively prevented from being anything like a modern organization or an efficient one, partially by politicians but mostly by their own actions and conceit.

The First World War would change that, finally forcing Canada’s military to become more professional in its quest for battlefield success. 51

CHAPTER THREE:

THE TEST OF BATTLE: CANADA IN THE FIRST WORLD WAR

In the crucible of the First World War, Canadians forged a new national military ethos. More than 619,636 Canadian men and women served with the Canadian Expeditionary Force (CEF).1 It is important to differentiate between the Canadian Militia and the CEF for this period. Minister of the Militia Sam Hughes created the CEF in 1914 without reference to the existing Militia units.

When forming the “First Contingent” that fall, Hughes disregarded his regulars’ advice and their mobilization plan. The acclaimed Canadian Corps, the main combat arm of the CEF, enjoyed unprecedented success from the April 1917 to the end of the war. Like all troops on the Western Front, Canadian soldiers experienced a difficult learning process, but they developed a way of war that made them an elite formation. The CEF’s success dealt an important blow to the Militia Myth, particularly within Canada’s military, but not a fatal one. The First World

War taught the Canadian Militia the value of military professionalism.

I

By 1914, the Militia had made significant strides since the turn of the century that allowed it to become more professional and function more efficiently. It was close to a self-contained army, despite its dependence on Great Britain for equipment, training syllabi, and guidance. British officers still held key positions, but their proportion of Permanent Force positions was smaller due to the increased number of staff and command officers across the country. But Minister Hughes reinforced

1Morton, Military History of Canada, 117; G. W. L. Nicholson, Official History of the Canadian Army in the First World War: Canadian Expeditionary Force 1914-1919 (Ottawa: Queen’s Printer, 1962), 535. 52 the colonial status of the Militia with his actions since becoming minister in 1911. Prior to the war and during its early years, his pervasive influence was harmful to the Militia. He had the same effect on the CEF’s performance.

On March 31, 1914, the Permanent Force had a strength of 3,000 of all ranks and 684 horses.2

Hughes had reduced its establishment from 4,000 to 3,110 earlier in his tenure. It comprised two regiments of cavalry, one infantry battalion, two batteries of horse artillery, five companies of garrison artillery, one field and two fortress companies of engineers, and various service and administrative corps detachments. The Permanent Force’s primary duties were garrisoning the

Halifax and Esquimault fortresses and instructing the militia.

In 1914, the Non-Permanent Active Militia (NPAM), trained approximately 59,004 of all ranks, an increase from the 44,142 trained in 1909-10. Its authorized strength was 70,064. The

NPAM’s training was limited to twelve days per year, which allowed instructors to do little more than address basic subjects. Few NPAM soldiers completed their three-year commitment, so the ranks were constantly filled with recruits. Patronage placed unqualified officers in important positions. Leading up to 1914, the Militia tried to improve its individual and collective training.

Incessant shortages of equipment and funding hindered this endeavor, but units persisted as best they could, some more successfully and seriously than others.3

Like the other Dominions, Canada entered the First World War on August 4, 1914, when

Great Britain declared war. A distinct force had to be raised because the Militia Act did not grant

2Department of Militia and Defence, Annual Report 1914 (Ottawa: King’s Printer, 1915), 26 (hereafter cited as DMD).

3DMD, Annual Report 1915 (Ottawa: King’s Printer, 1916), 25; Andrew B. Godefrey, “Canadian Military Effectiveness in the First World War,” in Horn, Canadian Way of War, 175; Nicholson, C.E.F., 6, 11, 12; Stacey, Military Problems of Canada, 75-76. 53 the authority for the Militia to be sent overseas. Thereafter, all overseas combat or support units were part of the CEF, which was essentially an administrative designation. The NPAM effectively ceased to be during the war, its main purpose to supply drafts to the CEF. To raise the First

Contingent of 25,000 volunteers, Hughes bypassed the chain of command, ignoring the General

Staff’s mobilization plan, and contacted 226 units directly by telegram. Hughes justified his decision to scrap the mobilization plan by claiming it was too slow and ponderous. He hoped to replicate “a call to arms, like the fiery cross passing through the Highlands of Scotland or the mountains of

Ireland.”4 Hughes’ only previous experience with an overseas contingent, the one Canada raised for the South African War, was based on a similar call to arms. Calling the first volunteer group mobilized in 1914 the First Contingent harkened back to 1899.5 Nevertheless, the size difference between the formations in 1899 and 1914 necessitated a different mobilization plan than a call to arms.

The CEF was born at Valcartier. On September 8, 32,665 men mustered at the new camp located sixteen miles northwest of . Sergeant Sandham Graves of No. 4 Section,

Canadian Signals, recalled the gathering at Valcartier as “a bucket into which men were poured as drops, until it was full up and brimming over.”6 Hughes selected Valcartier, an undeveloped camp

4Canada, House of Commons Debates (, 1916), 292. Diarist Sandham Graves also used the clans metaphor. He called Valcartier a gathering of the clans, “clans with newer names but the same purpose: defence of the right.” Sandham Graves, The Lost Diary (Victoria: King’s Printer, 1941), 17. A burning St. Andrew’s cross was actually used in a two-week, province-wide recruitment campaign in New Brunswick in September 1916. The campaign was largely unsuccessful. David Mackenzie, “Eastern Approaches: Maritime Canada and Newfoundland,” in Canada and the First World War: Essays in Honour of Robert Craig Brown, ed. by David Mackenzie (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2005), 364.

5Haycock, Sam Hughes, 179-81; Nicholson, C.E.F., 18-20; Stacey, Military Problems of Canada, 77; George F. G. Stanley, In the Face of Danger: The History of The Lake Superior Regiment (Port Arthur: The Lake Superior , 1960), 40.

6Graves, Lost Diary, 17. 54 that lacked a rail line, because it was closer to embarkation points in Quebec. The Militia

Department had acquired the site in 1912 for Quebec’s NPAM units but had done nothing to it.

More than four hundred workers built the necessary rifle ranges, streets, buildings, lighting, telephones, and sanitary facilities in . Permanent Force personnel arrived in the middle of that month for administrative and instructional duties. The demands of administrative duties meant only eighty instructors were available to train the volunteers. The Royal Canadian Regiment, the Permanent Force’s infantry battalion, could not serve at Valcartier as Hughes sent it to in September to relieve a British regiment for service in France. It was an odd decision given the need for infantry instructors at Valcartier.7

Much of the First Contingent’s time at Valcartier went to organizing new battalions and drill.

The massive influx of men formed sixteen provisional infantry battalions, which were then divided between four provisional brigades. The first three brigades formed the , commanded by a British officer, E. A. H. Alderson. The fourth brigade, slated as the foundation for a second division, provided combat replacements for the 1st Division. Hughes’ repeated changes to the composition and command of units disrupted training. Hughes reserved to himself the appointment of officers. He insisted these men would learn their jobs or he would remove them, but this was empty rhetoric to justify his patronage appointments. He further complicated matters by promoting or demoting men on the spot, often in front of their men.8 In the first two contingents, Permanent Force officers held only nine of forty-four senior appointments. Of

7Haycock, Sam Hughes, 179, 182; Nicholson, C.E.F., 20-21; Rawling, Surviving Trench Warfare, 16;

8Hughes dismissed at least one officer for political connections to the Liberals, Lieutenant Colonel John G. Ratteray of the 10th Battalion. Nathan M. Greenfield, Baptism of Fire: The and the Forging of Canada, April 1915 (Toronto: HarperCollins, 2007), 11. 55 the 1,114 combat officers, 204 had no formal qualifications, and another 186 were not qualified for their rank. Unit commanders created their own programs of elementary drill, musketry, and physical exercise. Obviously, it was hard for men with little or no training themselves to competently instruct their men.9

The First Contingent arrived in England on October 14, 1914. The War Office provided two officers and five NCOs to aid the Canadian instructors with the division’s training. The Canadians learned the same tactics and parade square drill as the British New Armies. The Canadians practiced local attacks, battalions or brigades assaulting limited objectives, occupying , artillery cooperation, occupying defensive positions, and digging trenches.10

The 1st Canadian Division moved to France on February 16, 1915. Following standard

British practice, the division was approximately 18,000 of all ranks. There were about 12,000 infantry, 4,000 gunners, and the remainder was divisional troops such as engineers, signalers, supply and transport, and medical staff.11

Supplying one division for the British war effort, with another in the process of forming, represented a considerable achievement for Canada. The haphazard nature of the Valcartier encampment, primarily due to Hughes but mitigated as much as possible by the Permanent Force, reflected Canada’s military unpreparedness and the bankruptcy of the Militia Myth. Hughes’ faith

9Haycock, Sam Hughes, 181-83; Morton, Military History of Canada, 137; Morton, When Your Number’s Up, 97; Nicholson, C.E.F., 22, 24, 29.

10Morton, When Your Number’s Up, 90; Nicholson, C.E.F., 32, 37, 39; Rawling, Surviving Trench Warfare, 20, 23. According to the oft-repeated story, when the First Contingent arrived in England, Captain J. F. C. Fuller, who oversaw the debarkation, confided in a letter to his mother that the Canadians would make excellent soldiers as long as their officers were shot. Fuller’s comment had more to do with his unfounded cultural prejudice than with an honest appraisal of these officers. Godefoy, “Canadian Military Effectiveness,” 180.

11Morton, When Your Number’s Up, 34-35, 44. 56 in the untrained citizen soldier nullified the advice of his General Staff just as the regulars were overwhelmed trying to provide some semblance of training to the same soldiers.

II

Canadian enthusiasm to supply more soldiers for the war matched Britain’s need for them.

On October 6, 1914, the Canadian government offered another division to Great Britain. With the oncoming winter, the quotas were filled at local headquarters because Canada had no winter or training facilities to accommodate the “Second Contingent.” The bulk of the 2nd Division reached

England in May and June 1915.12 The presence of Canada’s second division allowed the formation of a Canadian Corps. The Canadian Corps reached its peak strength of four divisions in November

1916. While the proficiency of this corps increased over the years, it was at this point that Canadian soldiers began to leave their colonial roots behind and function as a professional, if not elite, force.

The 1st Canadian Division received limited combat experience before the Canadian Corps was activated. The division’s first battle occurred at Ypres in late April and early May 1915. It remained in the line as a German poison gas attack caused neighboring French territorial troops to break.

Communication problems between levels of command hindered both the Canadian defense of this sector and the counterattacks that prevented a German breakthrough. Despite casualties totaling

6,036, the Canadians’ stubborn stand and the accolades they received raised their morale and confidence. The division’s next action took place at Festubert in mid-May. The division found the battle frustrating as it had insufficient time to integrate the replacements received after Ypres. The

Canadians moved their lines an average distance of 600 yards on a front one mile wide, but their advances still fell short of the German trenches and the British command’s expectations. They lost

12Nicholson, C.E.F., 109-11. 57

2,468 casualties in the battle. The German artillery’s accurate fire against the Canadian front line and supporting trenches prevented troops assembling close to their objectives and kept reinforcements from exploiting any gains.13 As historian Tim Cook related: “The difficult learning curve on the Western Front was cruel to all inexperienced troops.”14 It took time for the Canadians to learn trench warfare.

The Canadian Corps became active on September 13, 1915, by combining the 1st Division and Major General R. E. W. Turner’s . Under the British system, the division was the largest permanently organized formation. British divisions shifted from corps to corps. The creation of a distinct and permanent corps was a recent innovation, adopted first by the Australians and New Zealanders. Major General replaced Alderson at 1st Division. With two divisions, Corps troops, and various attached units, the strength of the Canadian Corps was 1,354 officers and 36,522 other ranks. Most of the corps’ staff consisted of British officers due to a shortage of staff-trained Canadian officers. The homogenous nature and unchanging composition of the Canadian Corps allowed tactical and technical innovation more easily than in British formations, and for that innovation to be incorporated into training and combat. The corps’ first action was a minor role in the Battle of Loos in October. Canadian troops feinted attacks to distract

German artillery fire from other areas. The rest of the year was spent holding the line. Canada fielded two more divisions in 1916. Major General M. S. Mercer’s mustered in March. Major General ’s formed in August.15

13Graves, Lost Diary, 40; Greenfield, Baptism of Fire, 24; Nicholson, C.E.F., 91-92,97-104.

14Cook, Clio’s Warriors, 11.

15Godefoy, “Canadian Military Effectiveness,” 187; Nicholson, C.E.F.,114-15, 120-21, 124-27, 133-35. 58

The Canadian Corps fought its first major battle in April 1916 at St. Eloi. The Canadians took over poorly constructed trenches that had little drainage, inadequate communications to the rear, and insufficient machine-gun positions. German shelling then virtually demolished the forward trenches and caused large losses. Two German battalions attacked on April 6. Heavy casualties, drenching rains, unfamiliarity with the ground, German artillery, and isolated and unconsolidated defensive positions prevented the Canadians from offering effective resistance or launching counterattacks. The battle reverted to static warfare on April 19. In May, the Canadian Corps began an experiment to use wireless radio to control artillery fire. While not overly successful, it was a promising start for a new system to bring rapid and more accurate fire. German losses in the battle were 483 compared to Canadian casualties of 1,373. St. Eloi blooded the 2nd Division, but the rough handling it received did not provide the same morale boost that the 1st Division gained from Ypres.

St. Eloi heralded changes in the Canadian Corps as a rift formed between Generals Turner and Alderson. Alderson wanted Turner replaced due to his division’s failure to hold the line.

Lieutenant General Sir Douglas Haig, the new British Commander-in-Chief, noted the battle’s difficult conditions and refused to interfere. To Turner’s credit, he had taken steps to improve his troops’ fighting techniques during the battle, including circulating a “lessons learned” memorandum on April 12. The memorandum’s main points dealt with securing and transmitting reliable information up the chain-of-command. The battle showed that limited tactical objectives could be taken with proper preparations and surprise. At the end of May, Lieutenant General Sir Julian H. G.

Byng, late of the Dardanelles campaign, replaced Alderson.16

16Nicholson, C.E.F., 138-47. 59

Byng’s first battle with the Canadian Corps was Mount Sorrel. The battle started poorly for the Canadians on June 2 as a heavy German bombardment virtually obliterated the 3rd Division’s 4th

Mounted Rifles Battalion. The battalion suffered 626 casualties, a shocking loss rate of 89 percent.

The also killed General Mercer, who was inspecting the front at the time. The German assault faced only isolated bands of resistance on the Canadian front lines. Machine guns from flanking units checked the German advance, but could not hold it for long. Counterattacks the next day failed to displace the Germans. Currie’s 1st Division assaulted Mount Sorrel on June 13, winning the objective in the face of limited German resistance. Canadian losses in the battle were nearly

8,000. On June 16, Major General Louis Lipsett took over 3rd Division. The corps remained in

Ypres the rest of the summer.17

In the fall, the Canadian Corps participated in several battles of the Somme campaign.

Sandham Graves called the Somme “an artillery duel between blind, roaring mammoths that trampled everything on the ground to powder.”18 The corps fought several actions in the Somme, advancing slowly with each assault, but never achieving sustained momentum against the German defenses. Canadians participated in the battles of Flers-, Ridge, and Ancre

Heights. The corps’ objective in the latter two battles was Regina Trench, a German defensive position from which numerous counterattacks emerged. Located on the ridge’s reverse slope, it proved difficult to hit with artillery. In two assaults, on October 1 and 8, Canadians reached the trench, albeit briefly. High casualties, uncut wire and German counterattacks forced a withdrawal on both occasions. At the time, the Canadians, like their British counterparts, were still vainly

17Ibid., 147-54.

18Graves, Lost Diary, 52. 60 relying on shrapnel shells to cut the German wire. The Canadian after-action reports sharply criticized this practice. The uncut wire meant attacking battalions used most of their simply getting into the trench, which placed them at a disadvantage when battling German counterattacks.

In addition, they criticized the attack’s early start time precluded digging communications trenches to bring supplies to those units that reached Regina Trench.19 As at St. Eloi, the Canadian commanders were trying to improve their battlefield success.

The 4th Canadian Division arrived at the Somme on October 10, but joined the British Second

Corps. The battered Canadian Corps moved to Artois for rest and reorganization, leaving its artillery behind to assist the 4th Division. The division began a series of attacks to gain limited objectives, eventually reaching beyond Regina Trench to consolidate positions past Desire Trench, the next series of German defensive lines. Terrible weather conditions by the middle of November prevented further action in the slogging campaign. Overall, the Canadians suffered 24,029 casualties in the

Somme offensive but the corps’ reputation for steadfastness grew. The corps incorporated the 4th

Division in late November.20

In the winter of 1916-17, the Canadian Corps adopted new weapons and training to increase the survivability of its soldiers. In 1915, Canadian battalions only had four Lewis light machine guns apiece. The corps quickly realized the ’s utility in defense against counterattacks and each had one by early 1917, or sixteen per battalion. Trench raids were one part of an expanded training syllabus for units in reserve. The raids were part of the British policy to maintain the offensive, even while on the defensive, and harass and demoralize the enemy. The raids offered a

19Nicholson, C.E.F., 167-88.

20Ibid., 188-200. 61 chance for the infantry to practice new skills and techniques. The raiders learned small-unit cooperation as the platoon or company-sized units were divided into wire-cutting, bombing, and blocking parties. Canadian success at trench raids combined with existing ideas to change the focus of their tactical thinking from the battalion to the platoon. Several commanders ordered mock battles for units in reserve. Machine gunners and mortar crews participated to learn their supporting roles.

Officers holding flags represented the creeping barrage so infantry could learn to follow it closely.

The troops also regularly practiced rifle, , and machine-gun courses. Replacements quickly learned the necessary skills to keep themselves and their comrades alive.21

In the spring of 1917, the Canadian Corps began preparations for the Battle of Vimy Ridge where its four divisions would attack simultaneously for the first time. French troops had tried vainly throughout 1915 to take and hold the ridge. As part of the corps’ preparations, it examined its past performance and why it was or was not successful. Commanding officers at all levels assessed their performance and pass the lessons learned up the chain of command. These comments were reviewed and incorporated with appropriate changes into doctrine and training. Such introspection had begun during the . Canadians adopted small but important tactical changes, such as providing the assaulting battalions with machine guns so that they could establish strongpoints at their objective. Shell shortages and inaccurately laid guns hindered the artillery’s effectiveness. Not enough damage was done to the enemy, nor in the right places, to ensure success. The assaulting infantry usually waited until the covering barrage ended before leaving their trenches, which allowed

21Godefoy, “Canadian Military Effectiveness,” 182; Morton, Military History of Canada, 141-43; Rawling, Surviving Trench Warfare, 48, 50-58, 62, 66, 68-77, 82. The creeping barrage was a curtain of shellfire that moved across no man’s land into enemy lines, rather than simply shelling those lines with varying degrees of success. Typically, it moved in hundred-yard lifts every three minutes, though this varied depending on ground conditions. 62 defenders time to leave their shelters and resume their positions. The corps decided that shellfire could only be effective if the infantry stayed close enough to have it cover the infantry’s movements.

This was the germination of the idea of close infantry-artillery cooperation to secure success.

Festubert taught the artillery to target areas on the flanks from which fire or counterattacks could come, as well as bombarding likely enemy assembly points and battery locations.22

The Canadians learned from their battles in 1916. The fight at St. Eloi reinforced the lesson that communication between different command levels was necessary but current technology could not always withstand the disruptions of battle. Subordinates had to be trained to act on their own initiative and, tactically, had to be prepared to rely on their own weapons. At Mount Sorrel, the corps decided that counterattacks without adequate artillery support were pointless. The corps delayed attacking in the battle until its artillery had time to properly register the guns. The battle was the Canadian Corps’ first real success of the war, even though it began with a setback. By the

November 11 attack on Regina Trench, the Canadians learned to move out into no man’s land to dig in during the night before an attack. This placed them clear of the German counter-barrage that usually greeted an Allied attack. Canadians also learned to push beyond captured trenches and lodge themselves closer to the enemy. Common German doctrine was to counterattack a lost position within twenty-four hours, or three days if a fresh division was needed. Their first step was to shell their former front lines. As a result of this slight change, Canadians suffered fewer casualties when

22Godefoy, “Canadian Military Effectiveness,” 186; John Keegan, The First World War (Toronto: Vintage Canada, 2000), 199; Rawling, Surviving Trench Warfare, 41-43, 45-46. 63 the counterattack began. In combination with other tactics, the Canadian Corps had innovated a way to defeat the German counterattack-based defensive doctrine.23

The Canadian Corps sought reports from its infantry commanders as part of a serious effort to reform its tactics during the winter of 1916-17. The troops’ advice informed the resulting recommendations. One commander suggested that platoons and companies should be given specific objectives and their officers then decide how to take them. Most officers urged a better supply of grenades, particularly if the enemy wire was uncut. Others advised placing Lewis guns in the assault’s van to provide close-range support. As part of this tactical review, Byng asked Currie to study the ’s methods at Verdun and the British-Canadian ones in the Somme. Currie’s report altered the way Canadians fought the First World War.24

Currie recommended that the Canadian Corps adopt five practices. First, he emphasized thorough reconnaissance of any potential objective, especially identifying strongpoint locations.

Second, Currie noted the French Army’s shift from capturing German trenches to occupying topographical features, such as hills and ridges. Taking the enemy trenches was often a necessary condition to success, but not an end in itself; holding landmarks that controlled the battlefield mattered more. Third, the French adopted special fire-and-movement tactical training in their platoons. Fourth, the French trained their assault troops on terrain similar to the objectives. While standard practice in some Canadian units, Currie recommended its universal adoption by the corps.

Finally, Currie’s most fundamental suggestion was a new doctrine of “the infantry conquers and the artillery supports.” He proposed that the infantry platoon, not the artillery battery, should be the new

23Godefoy, “Canadian Military Effectiveness,” 187; Rawling, Surviving Trench Warfare, 61-63, 75-76.

24Rawling, Surviving Trench Warfare, 61-66, 82. 64 focus of offensive tactics. Platoons must be able to overcome any potential difficulties by their own firepower and maneuver and not by artillery support. Artillery’s main goal would be to get the infantry to the enemy trenches with planned and creeping barrages, and then to locate and disrupt enemy batteries with counterbattery fire.25

The Canadian Corps artillery designed a meticulous plan for Vimy, including a counterbattery program. To facilitate this, Byng appointed Lieutenant Colonel Andrew McNaughton as counterbattery staff officer. McNaughton utilized the latest British technological methods to locate

German guns, including sound-ranging devices and intercepted radio signals. By early April,

McNaughton’s staff estimated it had located 176 of the estimated 212 German guns in the Vimy area.

The corps’ gunners developed a program of select targeting rather than simply bombarding the entire

German front line. Armed with the new 106 fuse, which exploded the shell on impact rather than deep in the ground, artillery shells could finally cut the German wire. The infantry no longer had to deal with the wire, risking the loss of the creeping barrage’s cover. The artillery also targeted supply depots, strongpoints, and communication trenches.26

The corps’ battle plan for Vimy relied on information and practice. The corps gathered as much intelligence as possible about German defenses using front line observation, trench raids, and aerial photographs. The plan designated a series of lines to indicate the corps’ beginning, intermediate, and final objectives. The ridge itself was the main objective as it dominated the local terrain. The corps adopted this system to counter the German defense-in-depth. The corps’ “bite and hold” tactics expected each platoon to dig in at their objective. At each line, fresh troops would pass

25Rawling, Surviving Trench Warfare, 5, 90-92, 95; Schreiber, Shock Army, 44.

26Nicholson, C.E.F., 248-249, 253; Rawling, Surviving Trench Warfare, 93-95, 107, 109-12, 122. 65 through their predecessors to attack the next line. Canadians practiced this new form of assault by learning to advance as platoon columns rather than as battalion or company waves.27

The Battle of Vimy began on April 9, 1917. The fierce opening barrage effectively silenced a large portion of the German guns. What little counter-barrage fire there was fell behind the attacking troops. Donald Fraser of the 6th Infantry Brigade Company wrote in his diary: “The artillery took such good care of the enemy that there was nothing much for us to do but to move to our objectives with little opposition.”28 Not all units were as fortunate as

Fraser’s, but the Canadians met their objectives in a matter of hours, except for the 4th Division. That division was tasked to capture Hill 145, the highest point on the ridge. The German defenses on the hill were formidable, particularly the reverse slope that was shielded from artillery barrages.

Nevertheless, the Canadians took the hill by April 12. It was a stunning victory for the Canadian

Corps. Canadian casualties in the battle were 10,062. French staff officers studied Vimy just as

Currie examined Verdun. On June 9, Currie replaced Byng as corps commander when the latter was promoted to command the British Third Army. Major General A. C. Macdonnell took over 1st

Division. Wilfred Brenton Kerr, a gunner with the 11th Battery, Canadian Field Artillery, noted that the men in the ranks received Currie’s appointment “with distinct approval as a recognition of

Canadian ability and nationality.”29

27Nicholson, C.E.F., 247-249; Rawling, Surviving Trench Warfare, 88, 95-100, 119-20.

28Donald Fraser, The Journal of Private Fraser 1914-1918 Canadian Expeditionary Force, ed. Reginald H. Roy (Nepean, Ont.: CEF Books, 1998), 291.

29Wilfred Brenton Kerr, “Shrieks and Crashes” Being Memories of Canada’s Corps 1917 (Toronto: Hunter Rose, 1919), 41; Morton, Military History of Canada, 144; Nicholson, C.E.F., 250-65; Rawling, Surviving Trench Warfare, 123, 130, 134, 142. 66

Armed with hard-won military experience, the Canadian Corps did not want to backslide into amateurishness. While British officers still held several key staff positions in the corps, Canadians filled the majority of staff and senior commander roles by June 1917. The CEF had plenty of officers available for staff duties. The Canadian Corps needed 48 battalions at its peak strength of four divisions. Hughes authorized more than 250 overseas battalions before Prime Minister Robert

Borden replaced him with Sir Edward Kemp in November 1916. Many battalions collapsed, unable to recruit enough men, but others languished in England. Hughes allowed new battalions because he refused to deny commands to his friends. While the excess battalions dissolved to provide replacement drafts, their officers were left without employment. Most surplus junior officers eventually replaced officer casualties in France. The spare senior officers were often civilians with little or no military experience. The Canadian Corps, including officers who owed their positions to Hughes, would not accept them as replacement officers. They had begun to question his right to make officer appointments. Hughes also wanted to replace the corps’ British staff officers with

Canadians, but the men he chose were unqualified. He wished to “Canadianize” the corps, even at the expense of efficiency and competence. The corps’ senior officers refused to cooperate with his plan. With the corps’ military experience at the front, these officers realized that only professionals could manage modern war. Canadians had suffered through their growing pains as amateurs and wanted the corps to become more professional, rather than less due to Hughes’ interference. With

Hughes gone, the anti-professional bias that afflicted the Canadian Militia, at home and abroad, was removed.30

30Harris, Canadian Brass, 109-110, 115-21; Haycock, Sam Hughes, 221. 67

With Hughes’ firing, Ottawa established an Overseas Ministry to guide the war effort. Sir

George Perley headed this new entity. He ended influence peddling and insisted that political association was not a legitimate criteria for appointment or promotion. Perley, in a move that demonstrated the difference between himself and Hughes, even chose his staff from Permanent Force officers. Perley offered the Canadian Corps, as Stephen Harris noted, “professional independence so that it could fulfil its professional responsibilities.”31 This was a revolution in the war effort to date. Beginning in early 1917, most of the more than one thousand surplus officers in Canada and

England were sent home. Perley only allowed reinforcement drafts from Canada. He assured the corps’ commanders would be allowed to designate officers within their units and formations. The commanders preferred to commission junior officers from the ranks rather than choosing a surplus officer. The criteria for advancement became knowledge, expertise, and merit; political, social, and economic status were irrelevant.32

Perley altered the way the Canadian Corps handled staff appointments. In 1915, the British established a special staff course at Cambridge to meet their own needs. Hughes rejected an offer for Canadian officers to attend. He was paranoid over the results of creating a cadre within the

Militia that was familiar with British practice and attitudes. Hughes created his own staff course, taught by unqualified officers, which did not meet imperial standards. Perley suspended this course and instituted a policy for staff appointments based on apprenticeship and attendance at the

Cambridge course. He regarded the selection of candidates or the number chosen as the corps’

31Harris, Canadian Brass, 125.

32Harris, Canadian Brass, 125-28, 130; Morton When Your Number’s Up, 104. 68 professional concern. By war’s end almost all the staff officers in the corps were Canadian.33 This result was as much due to Canadians becoming experts at war as it was to lingering sentiments toward Canadianization. Nationalism was good in theory, but after experiencing battle only competence and ability mattered to Canadians on the front lines.

Currie’s first major battle as corps commander was at Hill 70, which began on August 15.

Journalist H. F. Gadsby described Currie’s command style: “No is General Currie, no flashing military genius, but a capable administrator, cool-headed, even-tempered, and sound of judgement. He has surrounded himself with a capable staff whose counsel he shares and whose advice he takes.”34 Currie persuaded his superiors to allow the corps to take Hill 70 instead of the town of Lens as originally ordered. He reasoned that if the corps won the hill, which dominated Lens and the surrounding area, the Germans would be forced to counterattack and his artillery could collect a grievous toll from them. During the preparations, observers using wireless radios aided

Canadian artillerymen in registering their guns. Two Royal Flying Corps squadrons helped the corps artillery find and destroy targets before and during the battle. The 1st and 2 nd Divisions established

48 platoon-strength strongpoints on the hill to resist counterattacks. By the end of the day Hill 70 was in Canadian hands. Currie’s prediction proved accurate as timely fire support crippled no fewer than 21 German counterattacks before they gained momentum. By using artillery and machine guns against German assembly areas, enemy losses were estimated at approximately 20,000. Including the capture of Lens in the following days, Canadian casualties were 9,198.35 The use of innovative

33Harris, Canadian Brass, 128-30; Morton, When Your Number’s Up, 113-14.

34H. F. Gadsby, “Speeding the Canadian Spearhead: The Men Who Headed Our Army,” Maclean’s, January 1919, 30.

35Godefoy, “Canadian Military Effectiveness,” 188; Nicholson, C.E.F., 284-97. 69 methods to aid their new doctrine of “the infantry conquers and the artillery supports” was another signpost in their increasing professionalism. The Canadian methods, as historian Desmond Morton commented, “depended on using the maximum weight of material to win objectives and save lives.”36

The Canadians launched a series of four attacks between October 26 and November 10 as part of the Second . The near-constant shelling of the past three years had left their front line in bad shape and effectively destroyed natural drainage. Rainy weather contributed to the morass. The Canadians built new roads and light rail lines before the attack. The corps conducted set-piece, “bite and hold” attacks in each phase of the battle, moving their lines inexorably forward and defeating German counterattacks as they materialized. The third phase, beginning on

November 6, featured the first practical tests of wireless sets to call in artillery support during a battle. The battle ended with British lines placed on a more defensible basis for the winter. The corps suffered 8,044 casualties in the four phases. In mid-November, the Canadians moved to the

Lens-Vimy front for the winter.37

In , the British Army reduced the number of battalions in its divisions from twelve to nine due to a manpower shortage. The Chief of the Imperial Staff requested that the

Canadian Corps follow suit and, with additional battalions in England, form two more divisions. The

Canadian Corps would thus transform into a Canadian army of two corps. Currie argued that Canada possessed enough manpower to maintain its divisions at the old level. He contended that forming an army would break up a potent fighting machine. Instead, he advocated his 48 battalions receive

36Morton, Military History o f Canada, 148.

37Nicholson, C.E.F., 298, 314-27, 338. The 5th Division was broken up to provide reinforcements. 70

100 men over their establishment, which would increase the corps’ fighting power to a greater extent than creating an army and avoid the need for an increase in staffs, battalion headquarters, or transport. Currie suggested the “overhead charges” involved with the British plan outweighed its benefits. Ottawa and Haig approved Currie’s suggestion. Currie sacrificed a promotion to keep an effective formation together. This action, sacrificing personal gain for the greater good, was another signpost in the increasing Canadian professionalism.38

The Canadian Corps escaped the bloodletting of the German offensives between March and

July 1918 as the enemy did not attack its seven-mile stretch of front around Lens.39 Currie used the respite to reorganize both the Canadian Machine Gun Corps and Canadian Engineers, commanded by Brigadier Raymond Brutinel and Major General W. B. Lindsay, respectively. The reorganization gave each division a three-company machine-gun battalion with an establishment of 1,558 of all ranks and 96 Vickers machine guns. At this point, the four-division Canadian Corps possessed nearly the same firepower and fighting men as a six-division British army. A British division of nine battalions had 64 Vickers machine-guns and approximately 8,100 infantry. Currie expanded the

Canadian Motor Machine Gun Brigade, which was also under Brutinel’s command. Currie formed two motor machine-gun brigades, each with five 8-gun batteries. Each division also gained an engineer brigade of approximately 3,000 officers and men, giving it a labor force without having to cannibalize infantry formations. After the shake-up, infantry were used only for fighting. Currie

38Ibid., 231-32; Daniel G. Dancocks, Sir Arthur Currie: A Biography (Toronto: Meuthen, 1985), 128.

39In late March and early April, Haig stripped the Canadian Corps of its divisions to plug gaps in the British lines. Currie complained to his government, eventually winning back three of his divisions. The 2nd Division was not returned until July 1. Haig regarded the decision to keep the Canadian Corps together as playing to colonial nationalism, which it surely was, since the Australians allowed their corps to be used piecemeal. He acquiesced rather than damage the relationship between Canada and Britain. Sir Douglas Haig, The Private Papers of Douglas Haig 1914-1919, ed. Robert Blake (: Eyre & Spottiswoode, 1952), 303-4. 71 later credited Canadian success in the 100 Days campaign, which closed the war on the Western

Front, to his reorganized engineers and their ability to work without weakening the infantry.40

By 1918, the half-platoon of fifteen to twenty soldiers was the Canadian Corps’ basic fighting unit. The half-platoon contained a Lewis gun section and a rifle or rifle-grenade section. The former would suppress an enemy position while the latter maneuvered to assault it by rifle, bayonet or grenade. The corps sought to make its platoons semi-autonomous. With no reliable means to call for artillery support on the battlefield, infantry needed its own tactics and weapons to overcome those threats it previously relied on the big guns to neutralize. The possibility of open warfare made this problem more urgent, as it was difficult enough to coordinate with artillery in set-piece battles.

Canadians had learned that fire and movement tactics were not just the province of elite troops. Yet in many ways, the Canadians regarded themselves as elite. Kerr wrote: “We . . . liked to think of ourselves as being more efficient soldiers than other corps.”41

The Canadian Corps was soon tasked to assault Amiens as part of a larger Allied push, with the Canadians and Australians forming the main element. To ensure surprise for the attack on

Amiens, the Canadian Corps disguised its movement from Lens with an elaborate deception plan involving false wireless messages, movement by night, and directing soldiers not to disclose their

40Nicholson, C.E.F., 369-72, 383-84; Rawling, Surviving Trench Warfare, 177-79; Schreiber, Shock Army, 20-21, 26, 28. The Canadian Corps’ armored cars mounted two Vickers machine guns. The vehicles had a top speed of 25 miles per hour but were limited to roads as their engines lacked the power and their thin, solid rubber tires with little grip made them unsuitable cross-country models. Michael R. McNorgan, “‘My God, look at them houses moving!’: Combined Arms Action at Iwuy, 10-11 October 1918,” in Graves, More Fighting for Canada, 206.

41Kerr, “Shrieks and Crashes,” 142; Morton, When Your Number’s Up, 179; Rawling, Surviving Trench Warfare, 174-75, 187, 189. 72 presence in other areas. The Canadian troops did not even take their positions in the line until a few hours before the attack.42

The plan for Amiens used the corps’ “bite and hold” tactics in tandem with mechanized forces. The plan had no preparatory artillery barrages in the days before the battle. On August 8, the opening barrage and tanks dealt with German wire, strongpoints, and reserve and resupply areas. The

Canadians enjoyed the support of 646 artillery pieces of various calibers and types. The accurate counterbattery program destroyed several German batteries before they could fire a shot. The plan labeled a series of objective lines to counter the German defense-in-depth of a trench system and hidden machine-gun nests. As at Vimy, Canadian brigades passed through one another to attain the next line. The final line was eight miles from the Canadian starting point. The corps assigned three

Canadian divisions 42 tanks each from the British 4th Brigade. The 4th Canadian Division, in reserve for the attack’s first phase, received only 34 tanks. Currie created the “Canadian Independent

Force” under Brigadier Brutinel with the Motor Machine Gun Brigades, nine Lewis gun detachments from the Canadian Corps Cyclist Battalion, and a section of two 6-inch trench mortars mounted on . This force guarded the British 3rd Cavalry Division’s right flank as it advanced and acted as liaison between the cavalry and Canadian infantry. Currie also ordered Brutinel to exploit any successes if possible.43

On the first day of the battle, mist, smoke shells, and the opening barrage aided the infantry’s progress. The initial going proved difficult, due to the troops’ unfamiliarity with the terrain and the disorienting effects of the morning mist, but most units took their objectives early and with few

42Nicholson, C.E.F., 388-91.

43Nicholson, C.E.F., 396-98; Rawling, Surviving Trench Warfare, 188-93, 198. 73 casualties. The field artillery, moving forward to provide support for the infantry, had difficulty keeping up due to the infantry’s pace. The 4th Division’s 12th Brigade tried to use some of its tanks as personnel carriers, ferrying machine-gun crews inside or atop the machines, but engine fumes made the machine gunners ill. Canadian troops reached the final objective line in the afternoon.

When British cavalry patrols went out later, they found that the Germans had fortified a line two thousand yards beyond the British-Canadian positions. While not all points on the objective lines were secured by the end of the day, in some places the Canadians had advanced an astonishing eight miles, and all with only 3,868 casualties. The Canadian Corps captured 5,033 prisoners, 161 guns, and a large number of mortars and machine guns. General Erich Ludendorff, chief of the German

General Staff, commented that “August 8th was the black day of the in the history” of the First World War.44

Brutinel’s Independent Force worked well during the battle. It turned the flank of many

German positions, forcing them to retreat. The force allowed French divisions on the Canadian right flank to keep pace, which in turn protected that flank. Brutinel’s achievement was largely ignored within the Canadian Corps, but the French Army honored it with sixteen medals.

After Amiens, Brigadier Brutinel added the horsemen of the British 10th Royal Hussars, the 30th Field

Battery (Canadian Field Artillery), a wireless section, and additional armored cars from the British

Tank Corps to his force.45

44Erich Ludendorff, My War Memories, 1914-1918 (London: Hutchinson, 1919), 2:679; Nicholson, C.E.F., 398-407; Rawling, Surviving Trench Warfare, 193-94.

45McNorgan, “Combined Arms Action at Iwuy,” 208; Schreiber, Shock Army, 50. 74

Over the next three days, the Canadian Corps kept up the pressure as the battle slowed to a halt. The Allies moved their lines forward, securing numerous towns. Seven German divisions rushed in to block the Allied torrent. By August 11, the battle was over. Captain of the 22nd Battalion later recalled: “The effect on the troops of that successful breakthrough was extraordinary. It was the first time that we were attacking and advancing in terms of miles instead of yards. We felt somehow that the Germans were beaten and after years of crawling, of dugouts and shell holes and mud, hope stirred our hearts.”46 Amiens started the 100 Days campaign in which the

Canadians saw almost continuous action until the end of the war.

The Canadian Corps began a mobile campaign that featured rapid advances and logistical difficulties. The corps’ main goal was to take as much territory as possible. The infantry often advanced so quickly, using leapfrogging tactics, that the artillery could not always support them.

Such speed frequently forced small units to act on their own. Currie gave his mobile forces a traditional cavalry role. He attempted to make use of Brutinel’s Independent Force in the Drocourt-

Quéant attack and at Canal Du Nord, but it was often checked by enfilading German machine-gun and artillery fire. There were few tanks available to the Canadians, but the units that had them appreciated their services. After securing , Currie gave his two lead divisions each a squadron of the Canadian Light Horse, a company of the Canadian Cyclist Battalion, two medium machine-gun batteries, and two armored cars to maintain contact with the retreating Germans.

Logistics became a worsening problem for the corps as its inexorable advance made it responsible for an increasing number of liberated civilians. On October 18 and 19 alone, the Canadians liberated

46Nicholson, C.E.F., 408-18; Georges Vanier, Georges Vanier: Soldier The Wartime Letters and Diaries 1915-1919, ed. Deborah Crawley (Toronto: Dundurn Press, 2000), 243. 75

52 towns and . The corps paused near Valenciennes and the Canal de l’Escaut on October

21 to allow British formations to catch up. Extensive wire protected an intricate German trench system with strongpoints in and around the city and canal. Mont Houy dominated the eastern edge of the canal and the city’s southern approaches.47

The simultaneous assault on Mont Houy and Valenciennes began on November 1. The logistical problems that had plagued the Canadian advance were solved by this point. When the

Canadian 10th Brigade’s attack on Mont Houy began at 5:15 A.M., an overwhelming 88,000 shells pummeled the German positions. The objective was won quickly and with little difficulty. The 3rd

Division and the 12th Brigade forced crossings over the Escaut to assault Valenciennes. The

Canadians relied on their own weapons and tactics to capture the city to prevent civilian casualties.

The next day, the British and Canadians began another advance. There were no German trenches after the Canal de L’Escaut. Currie ordered the Independent Force to keep pressure on the retreating

Germans so that they did not have time to dig new ones. Valenciennes, the Canadian Corps’ last set- piece battle, cost it 542 casualties.48

The Canadian Corps struggled to keep pace with the retreating enemy. Roads in bad shape, swift streams, numerous valleys, German demolitions, French towns, long supply lines, and inadequate communications all hindered Canadian progress. Nevertheless, Canadian mobile elements allowed the leading divisions to keep contact with the Germans. The infantry’s main job became to consolidate gains. On November 7, the Canadian Corps entered . It reached

47Nicholson, C.E.F., 445-56, 459-60, 465-71; Rawling, Surviving Trench Warfare, 206-8, 210-12; Schreiber, Shock Army, 82, 100.

48McNorgan, “Combined Arms Action at Iwuy,” 209-11; Nicholson, C.E.F., 471-75; Rawling, Surviving Trench Warfare, 213-14. 76

Mons two days later, taking the town where the British Expeditionary Force first encountered the

Germans by the end of the war. The Armistice took effect on November 11.49

In a speech at the Canadian Club of New York in 1920, Currie listed his corps’ achievements during the 100 Days Campaign:

No force of equal size accomplished so much in a similar space of time during this or any other war, and the results achieved stand out as clear testimony of the superior energy, powers of endurance, and fine fighting qualities of our men. During this period the Canadian Corps delivered over 500 square miles of territory, 228 cities, towns or villages were liberated, including the cities of Cambrai, Denain, Valenciennes, and Mons. About 32,000 prisoners were captured and also 620 heavy 0 and field guns, many thousands of machine guns and hundreds of trench mortars. 5

With the 100 Days campaign, the Canadians proved they could not only master the set-piece battle but also flanking attacks and exploiting fluid situations.51

III

Beginning with the St. Eloi battle in 1916, memoranda became a critical part of the Canadian

Corps’ attempt to improve its performance. In 1917, this trend became formalized and a bottom-up process. Currie encouraged subordinates to participate in a process that sought solutions to the problems of the modern battlefield. Junior officers wrote “lessons learned” reports that passed up the chain of command. Each level reviewed the report, integrating its comments and observations.

This process facilitated the transmission of knowledge throughout the corps.52 Institutionalized introspection became a critical component in the Canadian Corps’ tactical development. But after

49Gadsby, “Canadian Spearhead,” 29; Nicholson, C.E.F., 475-82; Schreiber, Shock Army, 118-19.

50Sir Arthur Currie, The Canadian Corps and its Part in the War (New York: s.n., 1920), 7.

51Stephen J. Harris, “A Canadian Way of War: 1919 to 1939,” in Horn, Canadian Way of War,195.

52Major John R. Grodzinski, “‘We Few, We Happy Few. . .’ Canadian Generalship in the First World War,” Canadian Military Journal 7 (Autumn 2006): 80; Schreiber, Shock Army, 59. 77 the war the Canadians failed to codify their way of war. It was never formally articulated as written doctrine, nor was it mentioned in an official history. The history could have, as historian Shane

Schreiber writes, “provided the opportunity to clarify what the Corps had learned from their experiences, and point the way to the future. This would have been especially true for the compressed experiences of the final 100 Days, which left little or no time for reflection before the rush to occupy , repatriate, demobilize and resume normal life overtook the minds of the

Corps’ soldiers and leaders.”53

The British called a conference in 1919 to discuss the war’s lessons. The Canadians preached the wisdom of their engineer organization, counterbattery fire, motor machine-gun brigades, machine-gun corps, and the flexibility of their platoon and section tactics. But the problem with much of the Canadian organization was, while effective against Germans, it had little applicability for an imperial policing role in Africa and Asia. The Canadian Corps’ large division, three brigades of four battalions each, was too heavy and centralized for British needs. The division needed to be smaller and less complex, so the machine-gun battalion was stripped from it, but the engineer component remained. Armored cars and tanks would have to wait further technological advancements before it was decided where they belonged. The Dominions, even Canada, generally followed suit on these changes.54

Currie pressured the government for an official history, leading to the Canadian War

Narrative Section. Brigadier Brutinel headed the section until Colonel Archer Fortescue Duguid superseded him. Section staff examined an immense amount of documents, checked facts, and

53Schreiber, Shock Army, 133-34.

54Harris, “Canadian Way of War,” 197-98. 78 collected statements from as many veterans as possible. The demanding task faltered as access to documents, key personnel, and support resources became more difficult. The section fought for manpower, editors, and even office supplies. It printed only two volumes, one in 1924 on the medical services and another in 1938 covering the 1914 to mid-1915 period. These volumes contained little of real value to help Canada’s soldiers in future wars.55

A postwar malaise militaire gripped Canada that, despite periodic pressure in Parliament, led to limited funds for the section. The delay in producing an official history triggered debate in the press, Parliament, and Senate. As late as 1932, Duguid promised Prime Minister R. B. Bennett a volume within a year, but he failed to deliver. Duguid’s first volume, when it finally appeared, was more of a “literary ” to the fallen than a focusing on the lessons of war in order to further the training of future officers. Indeed, the first generation of Great War histories in Canada focused on finding meaning in the war and preserving the reputations of individual officers and the Canadian

Corps as a whole.56 Even the seemingly simple act of writing history could not be separated from politics when it came to the Militia. In this crucial aspect of writing an official history on their way

55Schreiber, Shock Army, 135. Colonel Duguid was distracted from collecting archives, compiling narratives, and generally writing the official history by all manners of requests for historical information. Duguid and the Army Historical Staff aided regimental historians researching the role of their regiment in the First World War. These histories filled the historiographical gap due to the delay of Duguid’s official volumes. He also acted to prevent organizational histories from being published that did not meet his standards. He preferred no works to substandard or possibly erroneous ones clouding the public’s understanding of the Great War. Nor was Currie the only senior officer to be interested in an official history. While CGS, General McNaughton considered an official history, in historian Tim Cook’s words, “a pedagogical tool for officers that could explain how to fight a major .” Cook, Clio’s Warriors, 44-45, 49, 55-56, 61, 62, 69.

56Canada, House of Commons Debates (, 1932), 2982; R. B. Bennett to Major General A. G. L. McNaughton, April 11, 1934, Robert B. Bennett Papers, Reel M-1463, NAC; Cook, Clio’s Warriors, 41, 83; Schreiber, Shock Army, 134-35. The pressure on Duguid to produce at least one volume of the official history series mounted as the 1920s became the 1930s. The Legion passed a resolution at their 1929 national convention that the Canadian government should write an official history “forthwith.” As a result, deputy defense minister G. J. Desbarats stopped the Army Historical Service from answering inquiries and to direct all its efforts to writing the official history. Cook, Clio’s Warriors, 79-80. 79 of war, the postwar Militia failed as a professional organization. Duguid should have been replaced or given more support, whichever would have led to a history.

The failure to codify the Western Front’s military lessons was not unique to Canada. The

British Army convened the Kirke Committee in 1931 to study the war. The resulting report received a rating of “secret,” which limited its access to senior members of the General Staff. In 1934, the

War Office published a censored version of the report entitled Notes on the Lessons of the Great

War. The War Office intended this truncated version, with many of the committee’s most forthright views removed, to encourage thought and discussion but not action. The report was commissioned too late to affect either doctrine or training. Most senior British officers believed the Great War vindicated the strategy of attrition and saw the war’s lessons as the need for better infantry protection, new offensive tactics, better logistical supply, and protection against air attacks. Even had Canadians completed an official history, there is no guarantee that it would have come to different conclusions about the conflict’s lessons or the future of tactics and operations than the British. Nevertheless, the

Canadian Militia inhibited its intellectual growth by not completing an official history and examining its own operational development.57

57Shelford Bidwell and Dominick Graham, Fire-Power: British Army Weapons and Theories of War 1904- 1945 (London: George Allen & Unwin, 1982), 187-88; Brian Bond and Williamson Murray, “The , 1918-1939” in Military Effectiveness, vol. 2, The Interwar Period, ed. Allan R. Millett and Williamson Murray (Boston: Allen & Unwin, 1988), 121-22; Robin Higham, Armed Forces in Peacetime: Britain, 1918-1940, a case study (Hamden, Conn.: Archon Books, 1962), 81; Robert H. Larson, The British Army and the Theory of Armored Warfare, 1919-1940 (Newark: University of Delaware Press, 1984), 63; Schreiber, Shock Army, 135. For the Americans, General of the Armies John Pershing led a Superior Board investigation into the lessons of the Great War in mid-1919. The board’s conclusions were that man was still ascendant on the battlefield despite the technological advances of the machine gun, airplane, tank, chemical warfare, and modern artillery. David E. Johnson, “From Frontier Constabulary to Modern Army: The U.S. Army between the World Wars,” in The Challenge of Change: Military Institutions and New Realities, 1918-1941, ed. Harold Winton and David R. Mets (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2000), 168. 80

By analyzing the Canadian way of war, officers might have seen the impact of technology on Canada’s war of war. There were several attempts at using wireless radio, before and during battles, to help the artillery find targets. Canadians were willing to experiment and try new techniques to improve their battle performance. It is evident from the record that Currie had nascent ideas about the possibilities of mechanization. Currie used improvised mobile units to aid the rapid advance following the liberation of Cambrai. Tanks played an important role in the battles of Flers-

Courcelette, Amiens, Drocourt-Quéant, and Canal du Nord. The Canadian Corps formed the

Canadian 1st Tank Battalion in May 1918, but it did not see action before the end of the war.

Schreiber argues that Canadian officers became enamored with massive firepower, best represented in the Mount Houy operation, to recognize the virtues of mechanized warfare during the interwar years. The Independent Force’s fine performance during Amiens and the open warfare that followed was dismissed. The Mount Houy operation was the exception, not the rule. Infantry platoons relied on their own weapons and tactics and not artillery support as the corps advanced in the 100 Days.58

The Canadian Corps’ mechanized forces played an understated but meaningful role in the Canadian war effort in 1918.

IV

Canadian troops did not always have a record of success in the First World War but by 1917 the Canadian Corps forged itself into a potent weapon. It is not surprising that ten general officers who fought at Vimy also fought at Second Ypres. The list includes Currie, Frederick Loomis, Harry

Burstall, and David Watson, who all commanded divisions at some point. In addition, there were

58Roman Johann Jarymowycz, Tank Tactics: From Normandy to Lorraine (Boulder: Lynne Reiner, 2001), 32; Schreiber, Shock Army, 82, 126. 81 scores of other officers and NCOs.59 It took time for the Canadians to learn to win at trench warfare.

In the summer of 1918, an unidentified but purportedly “prominent” British general praised the

Canadian Corps: “If it’s a case of taking a position, or executing a movement requiring courage and dash and skill, of doing things on time and to the letter, I would sooner have the Canadians than any other army on earth.”60 The First World War saw the Canadian military take some important steps toward professionalization.

During the war, the Canadian Corps transformed itself into an elite organization that was professional, proficient, and capable. The heart of the corps’ officer corps was militia officers or amateurs whose political connections gave them their positions. The war forced the NPAM to realize that an efficient military organization could not be politically-based. The rejection of Sir Sam

Hughes, in Ottawa and within the corps, symbolized that shift. Getting both the military and politicians to finally recognize the merit of an independent and professional force, one without the influence of patronage, represented a dramatic turning point in Canadian military affairs. The

Militia’s colonial origins were left behind in the crucible of France.

One of key elements of the Canadian Corps’ professionalization was its emphasis upon learning. Education became important to that expertise, as the corps instituted a policy to learn from its operations. This learning process, which reached from the corps commander down to the private soldier, was about the refinement of techniques to increase combat effectiveness.61 The corps strove

59Greenfield, Baptism of Fire, 23-24.

60Gadsby, “Canadian Spearhead,” 29.

61Godefoy, “Canadian Military Effectiveness,” 191; Grodzinski, “‘We Few,’” 86. 82 to do so with every battle. Introspection led to innovation which, in turn, led to success on the battlefield.

The keys to the Canadian Corps’ success was integration of infantry and artillery tactics, as well as the infantry’s increasing capability to act on its own. Fire-and-movement tactics allowed the platoon to attain maximum impact on the battlefield. These tactics marked the Canadian Corps as an elite formation within the British Expeditionary Force and proved essential to the open warfare of the 100 Days campaign. The corps’ artillery, at the insistence of Currie, continually tried to improve itself, guided by the principle of massive, closely coordinated infantry support. The

Canadian artillery attempted to paralyze the enemy so that the infantry could close and destroy him.

As much as the infantry, Canada’s artillery was an elite organization. McNaughton wanted the artillery to “consistently [seek] to pay the price of victory in shells and not in the lives of men.”62

By the end of the war, confidence, pride and optimism in the Canadian Corps promoted service in the Militia. Many officers enjoyed a military lifestyle and its concomitant challenge enough to join the Permanent Force after demobilization. In the war, they had received the fullest governmental support, both politically and financially. Most of these officers probably returned to

Canada expecting that the prewar mistreatment of the Permanent Force would cease and that the

Militia would enjoy the same forthright and continuous governmental support as the CEF. They were to be disappointed.

62Nicholson, C.E.F., 315, 534. 83

CHAPTER FOUR:

“DEFENCE AGAINST WHOM?”:

THE POSTWAR REORGANIZATION, 1919-23

For the Canadian Militia, the period spanning 1919 to the beginning of 1923 constituted a time of reorganization, hope, and eventual disappointment. During demobilization, the Militia’s senior officers strove to keep enough veterans in both the Permanent Force and Non-Permanent

Active Militia for both to perform their duties with as much efficiency as possible. As part of that goal, and for the sake of public relations, the General Staff decided on a unique way to secure the legacy of the Canadian Expeditionary Force. The Otter Committee was formed in 1919 to integrate the Canadian Corps into the Militia. The NPAM perpetuated most Canadian Corps battalions. The small Permanent Force absorbed two CEF infantry battalions, briefly increasing its numerical strength from the prewar period by a third. In 1913-14 the Permanent Force had a strength of 2,906 of all ranks, which increased to 3,978 by March 1922. These minor increases encouraged many veteran officers and military supporters that the Canadian Militia would undergo another transformation, much like after the South African War. They hoped that Canada would develop and maintain a fighting force worthy of the Canadian Corps’ legacy. They imagined a large, and by necessity expensive, force of fifteen divisions to defend Canada from future threats. In Canada’s previous conflicts, the government briefly increased military spending, but the extra funding dried up soon afterwards. The increases after the South African War represented an exception to that pattern and they transformed the Militia into nearly a self-contained army in the following decade. 84

Veterans of South Africa also participated in the Great War and may have expected that far larger conflict to force a similar transformation. But this latest attempt at reorganization turned out to be limited, both in its effect on the Militia and the government’s postwar support of that institution.

What the Militia’s leadership did not understand, but soon came to realize, was that the public and the government were tired of war and uncertain about the Militia’s future. With Germany vanquished, Canada and the Empire did not face formidable enemies. How could Canada pay for increased military budgets and not ruin its finances? The Dominion had incurred a massive debt during the First World War, reaching approximately $2.249 billion in 1920.1 Parliamentary debates demonstrated that the idea of increased military spending was untenable. The government, in a move to increase efficiency and reduce costs, amalgamated the Department of Militia and Defense, the

Department of the Naval Service, and the Air Board into the new Department of National Defense.

Instead of increased funding and larger numbers, Canada entered a period of contraction and drastic military cuts.

I

During demobilization, the government moved quickly to return soldiers to their homes and families. The CEF virtually ceased to exist by late 1919. Former Canadian Corps commander Sir

Arthur Currie suggested in 1926: “It was probably natural, after all, that by 1919 there were a great many people who felt so weary of the whole business that they never wanted to see a uniform again.”2 Many soldiers wanted to go home, forget their , and avoid the Militia at all

1C. P. Stacey, Canada and the Age of Conflict: A History of Canadian External Relations, vol. 1, 1867- 1921 (Toronto: Macmillan, 1977), 322.

2General Sir Arthur W. Currie, “The Case For a Canadian Militia,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 3 (July 1926): 435. 85 costs. They focused on resuming their civilian lives and were unwilling to give the time and meet the expenses that the NPAM demanded. They had done their bit for King and Country and had become, as one Canadian MP put it, “rather ‘fed up’ on war.”3

The exception was the 1,200 CEF officers who applied to join the Permanent Force. As

Lieutenant General Maurice Pope wrote in his memoirs, the idea of “real soldiering” appealed to him after his experience in the Great War.4 There were not enough positions available for all the applicants, and a vigorous selection process decided which ones would be allowed to join. First, an applicant had to be approved by a selection board of experienced officers. This decision was submitted to Currie, the new Inspector General. Currie sought to rid the Permanent Force of the pre- war regulars who had not seen service at the front. He wanted his own hand-picked veterans who could, in the words of historian Stephen Harris, “inculcate the army with their ethos of professionalism and competence.”5 Despite Currie’s efforts many pre-war officers were left in the

Permanent Force. With the size of the post-war Permanent Force reduced to 10,000 and then limited to half that, there were fewer vacancies for Canadian Corps veterans than he would have liked.

Currie was able to place some of his favorites in command of military districts.6 Currie then

3Canada, House of Commons Debates (June 16, 1920), 3677; Reginald H. Roy, Ready for the Fray: The History of the Canadian Scottish Regiment (Princess Mary’s) 1920-1955 (Vancouver: Evergreen Press, 1958), 8.

4DMD, Annual Report 1920 (Ottawa: King’s Printer, 1921), 11; Maurice Pope, Soldiers and Politicians (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1962), 48.

5Harris, “Canadian Way of War,” 199; Dickson, Thoroughly Canadian General, 71. One of those handpicked officers was Brigadier Andrew McNaughton. Currie appointed McNaughton as Director of Military Training and Staff Duties on January 1, 1920, while McNaughton served on the Otter Commission. John Swettenham, McNaughton, vol. 1, 1887-1939 (Toronto: Ryerson Press, 1968), 187.

6Harris, “Canadian Way of War,” 200-1. The list of Currie’s favorites includes: D. M. Ormond, J. H. Elmsley, H. C. Thacker, W. B. M. King, H. D. B. Ketchen, D. R. McCuaig, A. Ross, , J. F. L. Embury, and J. B. Rogers. Thacker became chief of the General Staff for a year and a half in the late 1920s. 86 forwarded his approved choices to the Militia Council, which vetted the recommendations and passed acceptable applicants to the Privy Council. If the Privy Council approved, the candidate was gazetted. Each applicant was judged on his merits, rather than through the lens of favoritism or political interference. Yet due to the limited size of the Permanent Force, many worthy officers were turned down.7 That so many CEF officers, most of them established in civilian professions before the war, wanted to join the Permanent Force speaks volumes about the attraction to military life. If any of the successful applicants assumed that Canada would take a serious interest in military affairs after the First World War, they were soon disappointed.

During demobilization, the government and the Militia wanted to integrate the Canadian

Corps into existing Militia units. The CGS, Major General Sir Willoughby Gwatkin, raised the idea in 1917, along with recommendations for a substantial Permanent Force increase and the creation of comprehensive defense schemes. CEF battalions were technically part of the Active Militia, but distinct and separate from the NPAM. Gwatkin suggested integrating them to combine the militia’s historic roots with the CEF’s unit identities, battle honors, and esprit de corps.8 The government formed the Otter Committee to implement that suggestion.

Major General Sir was called out of retirement to reorganize the

NPAM. The committee also included Major General Sir Archibald Cameron Macdonnell, 1st

Canadian Division; Ernest Alexander Cruikshank, Director of the Historical

Section; and Brigadier General Andrew McNaughton, Canadian Corps Heavy Artillery. Currie

7Canada, House of Commons Debates (June 16, 1920), 3641.

8Harris, Canadian Brass, 141; Lieutenant-Colonel R. J. Orde, Judge Advocate General, to General Officer Commanding, Military District No.3, January 27, 1921, fol. HQ 420-18-52-vol.2, Department of National Defence Records, RG 24, vol. 6522, NAC (hereafter cited as RG 24). 87 choose Macdonnell as the Permanent Force’s representative on the committee and McNaughton as the NPAM’s.9 Macdonnell and Cruikshank left the committee in the late summer of 1919 and were replaced by Major Generals Gwatkin and Sir Edward Morrison. Morrison was the Canadian Corps’ general officer commanding from December 1916 to the end of the war. Associate members assisted the committee as it visited each military district. Often these were the district officers commanding (DOCs), commanding officers of locally-based units (both Militia and

Canadian Corps), and prominent citizens. The committee periodically issued General Orders that reorganized the units within each Military District. The committee issued its last order on March 15,

1920, and dissolved on June 29, 1920, its task finished.10

Integrating the CEF into the NPAM was a daunting task. The NPAM units had long traditions and were part of the history of their respective towns and . Many had existed for more than fifty years, particularly in eastern Canada and . They were still social and political institutions that possessed significance for the party political machines. During the First

World War, the officers and men of the various regiments kept their traditions and organizations alive, supplied drafts for the CEF, and provided guards for vulnerable points. The NPAM could not be disbanded without repercussions for any government that did so. But the CEF’s achievements in France could not be forgotten. The only possible solution was to integrate the two forces in some fashion. In essence, the Otter Committee’s reorganization involved only the NPAM. Formally, the

CEF was disbanded at the end of 1919, excepting medical and administrative units whose service

9Swettenham, McNaughton, 1: 179.

10CEF Routine Order No. 1913, April 23, 1919, fol. G.A.Q. 4-125, RG 24, vol. 1819, NAC; CEF Routine Order, No. 2501, June 29, 1920, fol. G.A.Q. 4-125, RG 24, vol. 1819, NAC. 88 extended into the 1920s. The committee created new NPAM units as part of their other work to establish a new force structure in Canada, including ones to directly perpetuate CEF units. The reorganized or newly created NPAM unit inherited a CEF’s unit battle honors and traditions. Many units took shape in the new organization without regard to the need for them in a balanced force or to manpower availability. The Otter Committee forged an organization that could only train a small nucleus which would be enlarged upon the declaration of war. Many veterans stayed away from the

NPAM because those regiments survived and not their CEF battalions.11

By 1935, while the General Staff planned a second reorganization, the decision to amalgamate the CEF and NPAM battalions had been vindicated. In , for example, several units were created to perpetuate CEF battalions where no pre-war NPAM ones had existed.

These new organizations failed to recruit substantial numbers of men. Without pre-war traditions, battalions such as the Kootenay Regiment and Vancouver Regiment were some of the weakest units in the military district.12

The process by which an NPAM regiment would inherit a certain CEF battalion’s legacy was complicated. Generally, it was decided by which militia unit had provided the largest number of men to the CEF battalion. The Otter Committee assessed the contribution of every militia unit.

Sometimes a militia unit perpetuated multiple battalions, such as the Lincoln Regiment, which

11D. J. Goodspeed, Battle Royal: A History of the Royal Regiment of Canada 1862-1962 (Toronto: Royal Regiment of Canada Association, 1962), 313; Harris, “Canadian Way of War,” 201; Orde to GOC, Military District No. 3, January 27, 1921, NAC; Stacey, Canada and the Age of Conflict, 1: 324-25; Swettenham, McNaughton, 1: 181-82.

12Major General E. C. Ashton to Department of National Defense, June 19, 1935, fol. HQ-6007-vol.1, RG 24, vol. 6607, NAC. 89 perpetuated both the 81st and the 176th Battalions, CEF, in its active battalion.13 In the reorganization, militia regiments formed active and reserve battalions. The active battalions functioned normally with recruiting and training. The reserve battalions were “paper” battalions, often without officers or men. They were mainly administrative entities designed as the active battalion’s wartime reinforcing depots. The Canadian Scottish Regiment was composed of one active and five reserve battalions, perpetuating the 16th , 48 th , 67 th , 88 th , 143 rd , and 103rd Battalions, CEF, respectively.14

Other units were not so lucky, such as the 13th Royal Regiment. In January 1920, the Otter

Committee decided the 13th would become the Royal Hamilton Regiment and not perpetuate the identity of a CEF battalion. The regiment supplied hundreds of men to numerous reinforcement drafts, which were distributed to front line battalions, but the 13th had no particular connection to a

CEF battalion. The unit appealed this decision, and in 1926 the General Staff allowed it to jointly perpetuate the 4th Battalion, CEF, with the Dufferin Rifles. Sharing perpetuation was not uncommon.

The Queen’s Own Rifles of Canada Regiment shared the perpetuation of 3rd Battalion, CEF, with the Toronto Regiment, also starting in 1926. Originally there was going to be no NPAM unit that inherited the legacy of the 3rd Battalion. The latter’s former members and supporters pressured the

Otter Committee to create the Toronto Regiment.15

13R. L. Rogers, History of the Lincoln and Welland Regiment (Ottawa: The Regiment, 1954), 82; Swettenham, McNaughton, 1: 181-82.

14William Boss, The Stormont, Dundas and Glengarry Highlanders, 1783-1951 (Ottawa: Runge Press, 1952), 133; Roy, Ready for the Fray, 5.

15W. T. Barnard, The Queen’s Own Rifles of Canada 1860-1960: One Hundred Years of Canada (Don Mills, Ont.: Ontario Publishing Company Ltd., 1960), 126; Roy Farran, The History of the Highlanders, 1921-1954 (Canada: Bryant Press, [1954]), 6, 14; Brereton Greenhous, ed., Semper Paratus: The History of the Royal Hamilton (Wentworth Regiment) 1862-1977 (Hamilton: RHLI Historical Association, 1977), 151, 153; Goodspeed, Battle Royal, 324-25. The other active battalion of the Calgary Regiment, one of the few militia units to have more than one active battalion, existed on paper only. 90

The Otter Committee made other changes to the NPAM. Many infantry and cavalry militia units had their numerals removed. Typical examples of this change were the 34th Fort Garry Horse and the 28th Perth Regiment, which dropped the numbers from their titles. Exceptions were made for units that had special attachment to their numerals, such as the 48th Highlanders of Canada or the

8th Hussars. Other changes included identifying a battalion with a particular area. The 96th Rifles became the Lake Superior Regiment. Another kind of change made by the Otter Committee was the amalgamation of regiments to form new ones. For example, the 30th Regiment, British Columbia

Horse, and the Independent Squadron, British Columbia Horse, reformed as the British Columbia

Mounted Rifles. The 21st Hussars and the 23rd Alberta Rangers became the 1st and 2 nd

Regiments, Alberta Mounted Rifles. Some units went through multiple name changes in a short period. The Otter Committee reorganized the 73rd Northumberland Battalion of Infantry into the 1st

Battalion Northumberland (New Brunswick) Regiment in 1921. The next year it was renamed the

North Shore Regiment. In both Calgary and Edmonton, a single infantry regiment transformed into two battalions. The 103rd Regiment “Calgary Rifles” became and Calgary

Regiment. The 101st Regiment “Edmonton ” became the Edmonton Fusiliers and Edmonton

Regiment.16

16Kim Beattie, Dileas: The 48th Highlanders of Canada 1929-1956 (Toronto: 48th Highlanders of Canada, 1957), 4; Will R. Bird, North Shore (New Brunswick) Regiment (Fredericton: Brunswick Press, 1963), 90, 92; Donald E. Graves, Century of Service: The History of the South Alberta Light Horse (Toronto: Robin Brass Studio, 2005), 177-78; Douglas How, The 8th Hussars: A History of the Regiment (Sussex, N.B.: Maritime Publishing, 1964), 76; Stafford Johnston, The Fighting Perths: The Story of the First Century in the Life of a Canadian County Regiment (Stratford: Perth Regiment Veteran’s Association, 1964), 27; Reginald H. Roy, Sinews of Steel: The History of the British Columbia Dragoons (Toronto: Charters Publishing Company Ltd., 1965), 73; G. T. Service and J. K. Marteinson, The Gate: A History of (Calgary: Commercial Printers, 1971), 45; Stanley, In the Face of Danger, 41. 91

The reason for the increase in the number of NPAM units was that the Otter Committee also studied the maximum force available to Canada in a war of self-defense. It concluded that Canada could raise eleven infantry and four cavalry divisions and maintain them at strength, in addition to service units and other auxiliary formations, for a war lasting approximately two years. This estimate became the basis for all defense planning until the second reorganization changed the potential wartime size of the army. The committee calculated that 300,000 officers and men were needed for those two years, given wastage and casualties. The committee used these numbers to support its recommendations on the Militia’s reorganization, accepting that there would be deficiencies in units and formations for years to come. The General Staff reached a different set of statistics for fielding a potential expeditionary force. Those figures, arrived at in 1919, were six infantry divisions and one cavalry division. The government approved this scheme in principle, but no politician dared mention it in public. As the committee did not publish an official report, such sidestepping was possible. The obvious flaw in the Otter Committee is that with no official report for the government to support or denounce, there was also no government commitment to support the Militia at the size the committee recommended.17

To be sure, Ottawa did not approve the committee’s recommendations. In March 1923,

Under-Secretary of State for External Affairs, Joseph Pope, wrote to the Secretary General of the

League of Nations to report Canada could field and maintain four to six divisions in the event of a

17General Staff, “Memorandum on the Reorganization of the Non-Permanent Active Militia,” January 29, 1931, fol. General Staff, H. D. G. Crerar Papers, vol. 11, NAC; Goodspeed, Battle Royal, 343; John Marteinson with Scott Duncan, The Governor-General’s Horse Guards: Second to None (Toronto: Governor-General’s Horse Guards Foundation, 2002), 128; Swettenham, McNaughton, 1: 189. 92 threat to any part of the British Empire.18 While seemingly a small matter, it should have warned the

Militia that the government was not necessarily listening to the Otter Committee.

Ottawa, urged by the General Staff to procure weapons and equipment for a fifteen-division army, grudgingly accepted a British offer to provide it with the CEF’s equipment. The Canadians received five divisions worth of equipment from the British. Among the items received were 49,000

Lee Enfield rifles, 2,029 machine guns, 76 field guns, slightly more than 12,000 rounds for various artillery pieces, and 82 wireless sets. Missing from the received items were tanks, the full complement of trucks, and the heaviest artillery. This meant that the Militia’s equipment during the interwar years was almost entirely of the 1918 pattern, from uniforms and web equipment to rifles,

Lewis guns, and artillery. Weapons were not available in sufficient quantities to equip the Militia at the size proposed by the Otter Committee – 30,000 regulars and 300,000 militia. This equipment was barely enough to equip the 50,000 NPAM active members during the mid-1920s.19 Given the debates that raged in 1919 and 1920 over the size of the Permanent Force and how it should be trained, the members of the Canadian Militia should have harbored no illusions that the government would make a commitment to fund a force of fifteen divisions.

The General Staff had hoped that the Canadian Corps’ wartime success would ensure a large and well-supported Permanent Force. The staff wanted a strength of 20,000 to 30,000, with strong

18Lovell C. Clark, ed., Documents on Canadian External Relations, vol.3, 1919-1925 (Ottawa: Information Canada, 1970), 524.

19DMD, Annual Report 1922 (Ottawa: King’s Printer, 1922), 34; Harris, Canadian Brass, 148-49; Harris, “Canadian Way of War,” 198; Stanley, In the Face of Danger, 43. 93 garrisons on each coast.20 Most Canadians, even Militia supporters, viewed these wishes as unrealistic.

An increase in the Permanent Force’s authorized strength from 5,000 to 10,000 men provoked considerable debate in Parliament in 1919. S. C. Mewburn, the Minister of the Militia, repeatedly told his fellow MPs that the Conservative government was not raising the Permanent Force’s actual strength nor did it intend to increase it to 10,000 in the foreseeable future. He indicated that for the time being the Permanent Force would not exceed 5,000. The military’s supporters in the Senate admitted that a 10,000-man figure might not be reached, but justified the increase as necessary for flexibility and because the postwar Permanent Force had new branches and two more infantry battalions.21

Permanent Force advocates called for a troop increase given the nation’s concern for labor disturbances, particularly after the General Strike in 1919. When Senator Rufus Pope charged that Canada had no enemy against whom an organized militia could fight, Senator Sir James

Lougheed responded, “The enemy for which we have to make preparation is within our own borders and not outside.” Senator C. G. Power added that the NPAM could not handle labor disturbances in its area because “the people who make trouble are neighbours and friends of the volunteers . . . therefore it is necessary to have professional soldiers.”22 Brigadier General H. D. B. Ketchen, commanding the military district that included Winnipeg, had difficulty raising NPAM volunteers

20Granatstein, Canada’s Army, 156.

21Canada, House of Commons Debates (June 24, 1919), 3966, 3968, 3972; Canada, Senate Debates (July 2, 1919), 826.

22Canada, House of Commons Debates (June 24, 1919), 3966, 3968, 3971, 3985; Canada, House of Commons Debates (July 3, 1919), 4495; Canada, Senate Debates (June 30, 1919), 789-90. 94 during the strike. Veterans were not willing to participate in the military service again so soon after the Great War.23 Militia supporters appealed to common sense. MP William Cockshutt offered this analogy:

As to all wars being ended, my hon[orable] friends might as well say that all fires are ended because we have had an enormous conflagration that has burned up everything within a certain area, and, therefore, we should discontinue insurance because no more fires are going to take place. As long as there is property left to burn, you are going to have fires; and as long as you have danger of fire, you want insurance, and this is a simple matter of insurance for the benefit of Canada, for the benefit of its citizens.24

This cogent argument did not carry much weight with Cockshutt’s colleagues in Parliament. In addition, they could not reconcile themselves to using the militia to uphold civil power, even though that had been its original mission.

For each argument in favor of the size increase, its opponents posed reasonable and effective counter-arguments. The latter argued that it was unnecessary. The most evident reason was, as MP

Rodolphe Lemieux stated: “This war was meant to end all wars in the future.”25 Some senators concluded that it would be better to increase the size of the national police force to maintain law and order. Police could cope with strikers and their other duties would add to the internal security of

Canada. The senators also argued that the size increase was detrimental to society when young men were needed to accelerate the country’s exploitation of natural resources. Finally, they contended that the war demonstrated citizen soldiers were the most efficient fighters on the front lines. It would

23Canada, House of Commons Debates (June 24, 1919), 3972.

24Ibid. (June 16, 1920), 3673.

25Ibid. (June 24, 1919), 3981. 95 be better, they claimed, to drill boys and young men in schools for any future military needs.26 This last argument demonstrated the persistence of the Militia Myth in the postwar period. That it did not play a larger role in anti-military circles suggests that most Canadians now accepted that an efficient military needed to consist of professionals, not amateurs. But that was not the real issue. Parliament was confronting whether any military force was needed at all.

Realistically, it was hard for anyone in government to point to a threat viable enough to justify the Militia’s existence. William Lyon Mackenzie King, Liberal party leader and future prime minister, summed up the prevailing attitude with these sarcastic words:

Where does the minister expect invasion from? The minister says that this expenditure is needed for the defence of Canada — defence against whom? There is no answer. . . . He has given us no evidence this afternoon of any danger from abroad, and so far as the internal condition of the country is concerned, I would tell him that he will do infinitely more to create unrest in Canada if he uses the money of the people of this country for increasing [the Militia] at this time, than if he took the opposite step and began to reduce them.27

Senators and MPs repeated King’s arguments, though each put their own twist on them. The public at large, including many veterans, did not see a need for the military increases.

Despite the opposition, Parliament passed the Permanent Force’s size increase, but hamstrung it soon thereafter. In June 1920, the Conservative government forbade it from enlisting more than

5,000 men, even though the authorized strength for existing units was close to 7,000.28 Even while trying to aid the Permanent Force, the government effectively hindered it.

26Canada, Senate Debates (July 2, 1919), 829-30.

27Canada, House of Commons Debates (June 16, 1920), 3646, 3657.

28Ibid., 3639; DMD, Annual Report 1921, (Ottawa: King’s Printer, 1921), 21; Granatstein, Canada’s Army, 156-57. 96

The Permanent Force added two infantry battalions to its strength in the postwar years, the

Princess Patricia Canadian Light Infantry (PPCLI) regiment and the Royal 22e Régiment. Both regiments were CEF battalions with no connection to NPAM units. The actual strength of these two new units in 1921, respectively, was 294 and 210. In addition to the two new infantry battalions, the

Permanent Force added a Machine Gun Corps. The Permanent Force’s total strength in March 1921 was 4,125 of all ranks. Even under “limited establishments,” the strength to which the government effectively restricted the Permanent Force, it fell short by 270 officers and men. Further increases in military spending were unrealistic given Canada’s political climate. To make things even worse, the 1921 force level did not stand for long. It dropped to 3,978 all ranks by March 1922 and to 3,475 in March 1923.29 The Permanent Force had hoped for better times, but it would have to make do with less and less.

The Permanent Force was hard pressed to retain CEF veterans in its ranks after the First

World War. Most veterans lacked the desire to continue in the military. Poor barracks conditions discouraged recruiting. The government tried to entice young men into joining with a pay increase that brought military salaries in line with civilian ones. The pay of privates and non-commissioned officers jumped by 26 percent and that for officers by 10 percent. Privates received $1.70 per day, which was sixty cents more than in the CEF and $1.20 more than before the war. Higher salaries helped the Permanent Force enlist new recruits,30 but they turned into a two-edged sword. Even as

29Canada, House of Commons Debates (June 16, 1920), 3638; DMD, Annual Report 1919 (Ottawa: King’s Printer, 1919), 21; DMD, Report 1920, 7; DMD, Report 1921, 21; Department of National Defence, Annual Report 1923, (Ottawa: King’s Printer, 1923), 6 (hereafter cited as DND); David J. Bercuson, The Patricias: The Proud History of a Fighting Regiment (Toronto: Stoddart, 2001), 135; Granatstein, Canada’s Army, 157-58.

30DMD, Report 1920, 11; Canada, House of Commons Debates (June 16, 1920), 3639. On the other hand, some NPAM units were slightly more successful in keeping veterans that others, becoming little more than veterans’s clubs. See, Reginald H. Roy, For Most Conspicuous Bravery: A Biography of Major-General George R. Pearkes, 97 higher pay added desperately needed soldiers to the ranks, it raised the Militia’s appropriations and the amount of funds needed to maintain the Permanent Force. In addition, these new recruits required much training before they were ready to instruct the NPAM. Politicians did not understand that a new generation was entering the Militia and it needed greater resources to maintain the efficiency and training acquired by five years of war in Europe.

The political climate did not prevent the Militia from pressing for more financial resources for training and equipment. The General Staff warned the government that the Permanent Force’s minimum strength should be no less than 4,000. “No lower figure will permit of units performing their instructional work and keeping up their efficiency,” the staff insisted, “and at the same time provide garrison and barrack duties.” These officers also cited the possibility of strike duty as another reason for an increased strength, if Ottawa wanted the Permanent Force to maintain its regular duties. At the same time, the General Staff complained about the lack of financial resources to purchase tanks or afford training in “that necessary branch of warfare.” The Permanent Force lacked armored units. The NPAM had gained the CEF’s 1st and 2 nd Motor Machine Gun Brigade, but as regiments that had only one armored car each. Nor could the General Staff afford equipment or training for chemical warfare.31 Government parsimony would soon make a bad situation much worse.

During the early 1920s, Ottawa sold most of the Militia’s mechanical transport. The Militia had 48 cars, 53 trucks, 79 light delivery trucks or omnibuses, 55 ambulances, and 12 motorcycles

V.C., Through Two World Wars (Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press, 1977), 85.

31DMD, Report 1920, 6; DND, Report 1923, 6; Brereton Greenhous, : The Centennial History of The Royal Canadian Dragoons, 1883-1983 (Ottawa: Guild of the Royal Canadian Dragoons, 1983), 273; Jarymowycz, Tank Tactics, 32. 98 on March 1, 1920. Two years later, the Militia was left with only 20 cars, 10 trucks, 23 light trucks or omnibuses, 21 ambulances, and 7 motorcycles. In the same period, the Militia went from 690 horses to 717. The government proved willing to maintain the Militia’s livestock at stable levels, but reduced its fleet of vehicles. This decision prevented the majority of the Militia from gaining practical experiences with motorized vehicles during the interwar period. Many NPAM Service

Corps units never received any vehicles throughout the interwar period. For the most part, the

NPAM had to borrow horses to conduct training.32

Because the Permanent Force was spread throughout the country to better perform its instructional duties to the NPAM, garrison the citadels at Halifax and Esquimault, maintain the arms and equipment of the Militia, and aid the civil power, it could rarely come together in larger units or formations for their own training. As before the war, the General Staff worried that the Permanent

Force’s individual and collective training was “under a severe handicap” when it also had to instruct the NPAM.33 The PPCLI had companies in Winnipeg, Toronto, Vancouver, and London, Ontario.

The 22e Régiment was concentrated in Quebec City. The Royal Canadian Regiment was split between London, Halifax, Toronto and Montreal. The Lord Strathcona’s Horse had its headquarters and “B” Squadron in Calgary, with its “A” Squadron in Winnipeg. The Royal Canadian Dragoons headquarters and “B” Squadrons were based in Toronto and “A” Squadron in St. Jean, Quebec.34

32DMD, Report 1920, 14; DMD, Report 1921, 33; DMD Report 1922, 41; Arnold Warren, Wait for the Waggon: The Story of the Royal Canadian Army Service Corps (Toronto: McClelland & Stewart, 1961), 129.

33“Memorandum on the Land Forces of Canada,” September, 1930, fol. Disarmament Book C, McNaughton Papers, vol. 104, NAC.

34Richard Cunniffe, The Story of a Regiment: Lord Strathcona’s Horse (Royal Canadians) ([Canada]: Lord Strathcona’s Horse (Royal Canadians) Regimental Society, 1995), 157; R. C. Fetherstonhaugh, The Royal Canadian Regiment 1883-1933 (Fredericton: Centennial Print & Litho Ltd., 1981), 389, 393; Greenhous, Dragoon, 244; Jeffrey Williams, First in the Field: Gault of the Patricias (St. Catherines, Ont.: Vanwell Publishing Ltd., 1995), 151. NPAM battalions, particularly in rural areas, had the same problem. Bird, North Shore, 93; Stanley, In the 99

The members of the Royal Canadian Engineers and Royal Canadian Artillery were divided between the headquarters of the eleven military districts and the garrisons at Halifax, Quebec and Esquimault.

The engineers considered the detachments the most efficient way for them to do their duties, given their low numbers (38 officers and 249 other ranks in late 1922). However, there was rarely enough officers and senior NCOs to carry on the day-to-day tasks. They could not train themselves nor provide instructors to the NPAM’s engineer units. Like their counterparts in the combatant arms, they lacked field and training equipment.35 The end result was that the Permanent Force was spread out, understaffed, and financially-strapped. It feared that without more generous financial resources, its efficiency and training would suffer. This would, in turn, have an impact upon the NPAM.

In 1920, the Conservatives faced increasingly rancorous debates regarding military budgets, particularly regarding training. , the new Minister of the Militia, informed Parliament that costs had doubled since 1914. The prices of food, clothing, freight transport, ammunition, and equipment had all climbed. Guthrie stated that the cost of maintaining a private before the war was

$1.53 per day, including pay, whereas the 1920 figure was $3.28. The total Militia expenditure in

1913-14 was $10,998,162 and for 1920-21 it was $10,058,625. The total appropriation for the

Permanent Force’s pay, provisions, and supplies in those same time periods was $2,198,453 and

$5,705,736 respectively. The disparity between these last figures was due to the Permanent Force’s pay and size increases. Annual drill, the NPAM’s training, dropped from $1,830,034 in 1913-14 to

Face of Danger, 41-42; Foster M. Stark, A History of the First Hussars Regiment, 1856-1945 (London: Hunter, 1951), 7.

35Canada, House of Commons Debates (July 3, 1919), 4495; A. J. Kerry and W. A. McDill, The History of the Corps of Royal Canadian Engineers, vol.1, 1749-1939 (Ottawa: Military Engineers Association of Canada, 1962), 292, 295. 100

$481,027 in 1920-21.36 In essence, Guthrie portrayed an organization with serious funding issues.

Pre-war budgets were incapable of maintaining the Militia at its postwar size, yet many inside and outside of the government did not want higher military appropriations.

In Guthrie’s budget presentation, his discussion of training is insightful. Guthrie initially presented a figure of $1,500,000 for annual drill, an increase from the $34,059 voted the previous year. He conceded that many NPAM units, particularly rural ones, were not sufficiently organized enough to commence training. Many did not have the personnel to training. Furthermore, there was no justification, based on the state of reorganization, to conduct camps of instruction for the militia during the summer months in either 1919 or 1920. In the former year, only thirty-four militia units had been able to conduct local headquarters training, including twenty-two infantry regiments, nine machine-gun brigades, and three cavalry regiments. Guthrie admitted that less than a million dollars would suffice to train those units organized enough to conduct training. He contended that unless training was continued, the militia would lose the efficiency its personnel had gained. If training was abandoned for several years consecutively, he cautioned, it would take ten to fifteen years to regain the lost efficiency. The Permanent Force was given the resources to train as complete regiments, but instead focused on training its personnel to act as instructors to the

NPAM.37 The Permanent Force most likely made this decision based on the number of new soldiers in its ranks. With limited resources and raw recruits, the need for individual training outweighed the need for unit training. Even with many veteran officers in the Permanent Force, its neglect of unit

36Canada, House of Commons Debates (June 16, 1920), 3639, 3661; Canada, House of Commons Debates (June 30, 1920), 4548; DND, Report 1923, 97.

37DMD, Report 1920, 6; Canada, House of Commons Debates (June 16, 1920), 3677; Rogers, History of the Lincoln and Welland Regiment, 88. 101 training was problematic. How could it train the NPAM to act as whole units when many Permanent

Force members had not seen anything as big as a battalion function, either in combat or training?

No one in the government or the opposition seems to have considered this question.

Despite Guthrie’s argument that the Militia must drill, the opposition insisted vehemently on reducing the training appropriation. King led the attack using economic arguments. With the debt and proposed deficit budgets, he argued higher military expenses were unwarranted. Other MPs stated newspapers throughout Canada reflected public opposition to increased expenditures. King dismissed the need for training altogether, stating that there were already enough veteran troops to meet Canada’s security needs. These thoughts faintly echoed the Militia Myth. Many Canadians also questioned the need for trained and experienced soldiers. Had not Canadian troops in the First

World War won glory after being mobilized, trained, and blooded in battle? Could Canada not do the same thing again in the event of another emergency? These members and the national press questioned why Ottawa was spending money on the Militia when there was a League of Nations to prevent war.38 This firm anti-Militia sentiment in Parliament prevented the government from getting any more than $481,027 voted for annual drill.

It was true that Canada had fallen upon difficult economic times. Ottawa ran deficits throughout the war and the four years that followed. The net national debt of $336,000,000 before the war had risen to approximately $2,249,000,000 by the spring of 1920. The hardships of war hit home in 1918 with food and fuel shortages, failing crops, and labor difficulties. The prewar

38Canada, House of Commons Debates (June 24, 1919), 3968; Canada, House of Commons Debates (June 16, 1920), 3645-46, 3670, 3675; Stanley, In the Face of Danger, 42. King’s arguments were repeated in 1926, when his party controlled Parliament, by MP W. K. Baldwin who spuriously reasoned: “With those 400,000 men who received military discipline overseas, we should have no need for annual drill for the next two or three decades because those men in this country already disciplined and will be ready in time of war.” Canada, House of Commons Debates (April 20, 1926), 2649-50. 102 depression returned in the fall of 1920 and lasted until 1922; agriculture, industry, and trade soured in this period, delayed slightly by postwar demand and the readjustment to peacetime markets. In

1921, 200,000 Canadians were unemployed, mainly veterans and discharged war-plant workers. The government introduced income tax in 1917 and sales tax in 1920 to raise revenue, and both measures were unpopular. How could any politician not heed the cry for economy? The obvious candidate for budget reduction was the military. Ottawa gave little thought to reacclimating veterans and the future of armed forces. The public focused on the demobilization of soldiers, the organization of veterans’ societies, and the League of Nations. The pride Canadians took in their veterans’ courage and achievements did not translate into public or political support for the Militia.39 This was, perhaps, not surprising considering the trauma of the Great War. Almost everyone wanted to return to life as normal. Woodrow Wilson’s concept of a “war to end all wars” exerted a strong emotional appeal on Canadians who were weary of death and demands for unending sacrifice. As historian

Arnold Warren commented: “It said what they wanted to hear – what they wanted to believe.”40

To facilitate a significant change in Canada’s defense structure without wasting money, the government created the Department of National Defense. This new entity consolidated the

Department of Militia and Defense, the Department of the Naval Service, and the Air Board. Sir

John French first suggested a unified department during his 1910 inspection. After the war, Inspector

39Ralph Allen, Ordeal by Fire: Canada, 1910-1945 (Garden City: Doubleday, 1961), 173; Barnard, Queen’s Own Rifles of Canada, 128; Robert Bothwell, Ian Drummond and John English, Canada 1900-1945 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1990), 219; Goodspeed, Battle Royal, 310; Marteinson and Duncan, Governor-General’s Horse Guards, 127; Desmond Morton and Glenn Wright, Winning the Second Battle: Canadian Veterans and the Return of Civilian Life 1915-1930 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1987), 106, 153; Roy, For Most Conspicuous Bravery, 84; Roy, Ready for the Fray, 6; Stacey, Canada and the Age of Conflict, 1: 522; John Herd Thompson with Allen Seager, Canada 1922-1939: Decades of Discord (Toronto: McClelland & Stewart, 1985), 338.

40Warren, Wait for the Waggon, 119. 103

General Currie resurrected French’s idea. Minister Guthrie presented it during the Militia debates in 1920, but in passing as a possible answer King’s concerns about heavy government spending.

CGS Major General James H. MacBrien revived this proposal in 1921. He argued that since the armed services were mutually dependent on each other, it made sense that they were controlled by a central authority. A Department of National Defense could allot the country’s resources between the services to prevent competition for personnel and material and eliminate overlap and waste.41

Though conceived under a sympathetic but inept Conservative government, this scheme’s implementation had to wait until the Liberals were voted into power.

King’s election platform for the Liberal party centered on reviving the economy and limiting the government’s size. He wanted to reduce tariffs, notably on the necessities of life and the implements of production, while trimming government extravagance. He sought to exercise strict economy in the administration of public affairs. The Liberal leader portrayed himself as the candidate to reunite the country with principles of goodwill, open-mindedness, and equal rights and justice for all. On the international front, King asserted his party stood for close relations with the

British Empire, friendly relations with the United States, and promoting peace in the world.42 In this platform there was none of the isolationism that would mark King’s tenure later in the 1920s.

In the early December 1921 election, the Liberal party formed a minority government with

117 seats in Parliament out of 235. ’s Conservatives won only fifty seats. T. A.

Crerar’s Progressive party held the balance of power with sixty-four seats. After the election, King

41Canada, House of Commons Debates (June 16, 1920), 3644-45; Canada, House of Commons Debates (April 4, 1922), 659; Major General James H. MacBrien, “Memorandum on Necessity for Ministry of Defence,” December 19, 1921, fol. HQ 186-1-1, RG 24, vol. 5937, NAC.

42William Lyon Mackenzie King, “The Aim of the Liberal Party in Canada To-day,” MacLean’s, January 21, 1921, 20-21, 37. 104 tapped George P. Graham for the Militia portfolio, someone who had no military background but was considered a solid administrator. Graham was also the minister for Canada’s railroads.43 King wrote in his diary on December 28: “I want defence consolidated. I spoke of wanting a ‘cleaning up’ of that dept. and a ‘showing up’ of expenditures & waste and would ask him [Graham] to promise he would see that was done.”44 Described by historian C. P. Stacey as “unmilitary and anti-military,”45

King knew a way to reduce the budget when he saw it.

Graham introduced a bill on April 4, 1922, to create the Department of National Defense.

Graham suggested that amalgamation would reduce the number of civilian employees and simplify the purchasing departments. The government hoped that the change would provide significant savings. The civilian salaries in the Militia department alone rose from $157,137 in 1913-14 to

$540,757 in 1922-23. Graham submitted that another advantage to the amalgamation was that it would bring all three services under a single military ministry. At that time, the Minister of Marine and Fisheries controlled the Department of the Naval Service, and the Air Board was attached to the

Department of the Secretary of State. The bill’s first draft included the Royal Canadian Mounted

Police in the new department. This was changed after MPs from all parties expressed concern. They considered it unwise to add a civilian police force to a military department. Indeed, that was the only significant point of contention during the debate. That the Liberals, the main agitators for reducing defense budgets in previous sessions, now comprised the government probably had more to do with

43Allen, Ordeal by Fire, 235; W. A. B. Douglas, The Creation of a National Air Force: The Official History of the Volume II (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1986), 56.

44William Lyon Mackenzie King diary, December 28, 1921.

45C. P. Stacey, Canada and the Age of Conflict, vol.2, 1921-1948 The Mackenzie King Era (Toronto: University of Toronto, 1981), 17. 105 the lack of debate than any other factor. The Conservatives still supported the military and amalgamation, which made the Progressive party’s support irrelevant. Some of King’s party still agitated against the military after the election. In the 1922 debates over Militia estimates debates, some Liberals, particularly the younger Quebec element, argued against their own government increasing the military’s budget. Many Liberals had campaigned to decrease military spending and chafed at reneging on that promise. King was embarrassed that the Conservatives aided the passing of the defense budget. Parliament passed the Department of National Defense bill, which took effect on January 1, 1923.46

II

The Canadian Militia underwent profound changes in the four years following the end of the

First World War. The CEF had gained extensive military experience and achieved a level of professionalism unmatched in Canadian history. The Permanent Force’s 1,200 officer applicants had their expectations raised on what to expect in terms of governmental support. With the South

African War as a guideline, and the many upgrades to the Militia made after it, veterans probably thought similar transformations would follow the First World War. After all, the Militia had repudiated its colonial origins in Flanders and France by insisting on professionalism and efficiency.

The key difference between the two conflicts was that after the South African War there were still great global tensions. There were no such similar tensions after the First World War. As King observed while leader of the opposition, the government could not point to any enemy the Empire or Canada needed to fear.

46DND, Report 1923, 5, 98; Canada, House of Commons Debates (April 4, 1922), 657-669; Canada, House of Commons Debates (April 6, 1922), 733; Mackenzie King diary, March 11, 1922, April 25, 1922, April 26, 1922; Douglas, Creation of a National Air Force, 56. 106

In a sense, the Militia deluded itself into thinking firmer governmental support would result from the recommendations of the Otter Committee. By ensuring that the battle honors and traditions of the CEF battalions were not lost, many trusted Ottawa would not let the war’s lessons, and the hard-won proficiency accrued by Canadian officers and soldiers, fade away. The committee’s recommendations for a new organization for the Militia, however, fell on deaf ears. There was no government commitment to fifteen divisions. The Militia’s new force structure rested upon a cadre waiting to be expanded upon declaration of war, so it was willing to accept that there would be some deficiencies in equipment and units for years to come. But when the government accepted the CEF’s wartime equipment, and refused to buy more, the handwriting was on the wall. Military preparedness was not to be a governmental priority.

Nevertheless, a postwar pay increase offered Militia personnel hope that a military career would not lead to financial ruin for soldiers who were not independently wealthy. Indeed, this itself was a revolutionary step. It promised to save the Militia’s lower ranks from becoming the last resort for the desperate and destitute. The Permanent Force also initially enjoyed a respectable augmentation in size by absorbing two CEF infantry regiments and some ancillary units. But this increase turned out to be illusory as Ottawa permitted the Militia’s numbers to slowly decrease afterward. The decision to allow the Permanent Force to expand to 10,000 of all ranks was undercut by a ban on recruiting more than 5,000. To the regulars, this discrepancy must have been puzzling and frustrating. The Conservative government bowed to political opposition and catered to the public’s mood. The Conservative defeat in 1921 would have disastrous budgetary consequences for the Militia. By creating the Department of National Defense in a desire to reduce costs and interservice friction, the King government began a process by which it reduced the Militia’s 107 appropriations throughout most of the remaining decade. The Militia was bound to be underfunded and under-equipped for the rest of the 1920s.

Not only were the government’s actions disappointing to the Militia, but most veterans shunned postwar militia service. New recruits filled the ranks of both the Permanent Force and the

NPAM, although not in great numbers, reducing their effectiveness. With old equipment and little paid training, it was not surprising that the First World War veterans stayed away. Many preferred to retain their military associations through veterans organizations or to try and forget those days of mud and trenches. And it was no wonder that new recruits also stayed away. NPAM units were only allowed to train if their state of reorganization permitted, and during this period only a few were so fortunate or so dedicated. The Permanent Force was forced to conduct individual training, when it was not on strike duty, in order to perform its primary role, training the NPAM. For the moment, the Militia’s situation looked worse than it did before the Great War. 108

CHAPTER FIVE:

POSTWAR PROBLEMS IN THE MILITIA:

THE MACBRIEN AND THACKER YEARS, 1923-28

Major Generals James Howden MacBrien and H. C. Thacker presided over the Canadian

Militia for most of the 1920s. The government appointed MacBrien Chief of the General Staff in

August 1920. A respected Permanent Force officer before the First World War, MacBrien enhanced his reputation between 1914 and 1918, especially with his command of the 12th Brigade. His fellow officers remembered him for his aplomb and coolness under fire.1 These experiences may have qualified him for his position in 1920, but could not have prepared him for the parsimony that came to characterize the government’s treatment of the Canadian military and its unwillingness to define a military policy. Without that policy, the Militia floundered for a role in postwar Canada. It carried on under the previous military policy, issued in 1905, but struggled with low strength levels and decreasing budgets. Ottawa could not be bothered with rethinking its military policy. It spent much of this period defining the country’s independence through an intricate foreign policy. Added to

MacBrien’s frustration were internecine squabbles between the Militia and the Royal Canadian Navy, plus the public’s general hostility toward the military. MacBrien retired in 1927 and was replaced by Thacker, who served a year and a half. As the public’s attitude toward the military began to soften in the mid-1920s, the King government finally appointed a minister to National Defense who actually cared about his portfolio. James Layton Ralston, a former CEF officer, took office in late 1926.

I

1Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 1:237; Harris, Canadian Brass, 143, 153. 109

The Militia’s relations with the Liberal government were not positive during much of

MacBrien’s tenure. The Liberals did not feel the need to support the Militia beyond a minimal level.

They cut pay rates and appointed defense ministers who were, at best, apathetic toward the military.

While the Liberals ruled, Canadian soldiers and sailors languished under a sustained pattern of neglect. Insecurity about the Militia’s future led to infighting between MacBrien and his counterpart in the Royal Canadian Navy, Walter Hose.

The creation of the Department of National Defense meant changes to the command structure of the three services. First and foremost, the Militia Council and the Air Board ceased to exist and a new Defense Council replaced them. This council was composed of the defense minister, his deputy minister, the Chief of Staff, and the Director of Naval Services. The General,

Quartermaster General and Director of Air Services were associate members. The council’s aim, as stated in the new department’s annual report, was “better and unified control of the Defence Services, closer co-operation between Land, Water and Air Forces and greater economy in their administration.” It should be noted that the Chief of the General Staff position was changed to the

Chief of Staff, who, according to the report, “has become the chief advisor of the minister on matters of defence.” The Militia lost the positions of Inspector General and Master General of the Ordnance; the former was abolished and the latter suspended with its duties spread among the General Staff.2

The creation of the Department of National Defense rested on the idea of expected economy on expenditures. One area of savings came at the expense of permanent and temporary civilian employees within the various departments. On April 1, 1922, there were 375 permanent and 676 temporary employees at work for the three services. A year later, this figure shrank to 331 permanent

2DND, Report 1923, 5. 110 and 217 temporary employees. Spending on salaries fell from $96,931 to $63,145, which hardly represented impressive savings. In addition, the reduction in appropriations forced the disbandment of a company of the Royal Canadian Garrison Artillery and the Canadian Machine Gun Brigade.

One company in each of the three Permanent Force infantry battalions converted to machine guns to compensate for the loss of the latter. The NPAM, however, kept its machine gun battalions. The disbandment of these units reduced the Permanent Force by 350 of all ranks, leaving it with a strength of 3,475. As a result, the total appropriation for Permanent Force pay, provisions and supplies dropped from $5,882,938 to $5,425,105. The Militia’s total expenditures dropped from

$11,016,939 to $9,797,406. Other areas that suffered significant budgetary decreases included the

NPAM’s annual drill, cadet services, Dominion Arsenals, printing and stationery, schools of instruction, transport and freight, and warlike stores.3

The General Staff complained of this fiscal starvation. Its main complaint was the Permanent

Force’s small size and the Militia’s inability to train effectively. The Permanent Force had three main duties: provide garrisons for the Halifax and Esquimault fortresses; instruction of the NPAM; and, aid to civil powers. For the 1922 training season, the report claimed: “The small existing

Permanent Force was strained to the uttermost in providing sufficient numbers to meet demands for troops for strike duty and the call coming, as it did, in the middle of the training season, the instructional work was badly disorganized and the Militia suffered greatly.”4 The NPAM’s training

3Ibid., 5, 8, 46-47, 50, 90, 97. The Permanent Force’s authorized strength was 6,972 officers and men.

4DND, Report 1923, 6. In July 1923, the training season was again interrupted as soldiers from Lord Strathcona’s Horse, Royal Canadian Dragoons, PPCLI, and the Royal Canadian Regiment were sent to the coalfields of Cape Breton, Nova Scotia for strike duty. Cunniffe, Story of a Regiment, 162. The Permanent Force sent about 1,000 of all ranks and 114 horses on strike duty in 1922, and thus away from their training duties. About that number were sent the next year as well. Major G. D. Mitchell, RCHA – Right of the Line: An Anecdotal History of the Royal Canadian Horse Artillery from 1871 (Ottawa: RCHA History Committee, 1986), 57-58. 111 had suffered in recent years because of low funds for drill, but now it also suffered due to the

Permanent Force’s small size. The cuts to the Militia’s budget also meant that there were fewer days for training, both at camp and local headquarters, and fewer soldiers were allowed to attend. Ottawa also cut financial allowances to the NPAM. Unit and sub-unit commanders were unable to attract recruits and maintain an efficient organization. Those units without an armory now had smaller amounts to rent facilities. For cavalry units, the cuts also meant fewer horses.5

MacBrien campaigned against any further reductions to the Militia’s budget in February

1924. He argued that if the Militia was to be of any use in war, it must be organized and well-trained in peacetime. MacBrien declared that the Permanent Force’s efficiency as the NPAM’s instructors depended upon it being kept to a certain strength, composed of units of all arms, and localized throughout Canada. He also complained that reducing the NPAM’s training effectively cut its only support. Many NPAM personnel pooled a portion or all of their training pay to supplement the funds available for their unit. Without that vital resource, many units might cease to exist.6 Nearly simultaneously, Prime Minister King wrote to E. M. Macdonald, the new minister of National

Defense, to discuss transferring armories and drill halls, temporarily or permanently, to the in which they were located. King suggested at least one hundred facilities could be converted. He asserted: “A transition from military to community purposes is much in accord with the spirit of our time.”7 Obviously, MacBrien’s comments were at cross-purposes with the government’s intentions toward the Militia.

5Roy, Sinews of Steel, 79.

6Major General James. H. MacBrien to Minister of National Defence, February 15 and 16, 1924, fol. National Defence H.Q. Reorganization, McNaughton Papers, vol. 109, NAC.

7Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 1: 305. 112

Budgetary decreases took another drastic turn when the Liberals reduced the Permanent

Force’s pay, effective August 1, 1924. Macdonald contended that the reductions were necessary for economy. The parliamentary debate on the cuts was abbreviated. The only objections raised concerned whether the government was keeping to contracts it signed with its soldiers and whether or not officers faced pay cuts too. Both objections were minor and easily defused by Macdonald.

For the first objection, Macdonald argued that these men had benefitted from a pay increase already, above what they signed on for originally, and that the current decrease would merely reduce that raise. For the second objection, all ranks were affected by the pay reduction. In the debate, the minister asked for a Militia budget $1,078,000 less than the previous year’s estimates.8 Macdonald’s argument that Ottawa was not breaking contracts was both true and false. Many officers had joined the Permanent Force without expecting the pay increase. Many new recruits, however, enlisted as private soldiers after the pay increase in 1920.

The pay cut led to a decline in the Permanent Force’s strength. The General Staff rationalized the pay reduction as best it could in its annual report: “Had the pay and allowances not been reduced, a considerably larger reduction in the force would have been necessary. In revising the pay and allowances it was considered that a large number of married men who had joined the force supernumerary to the Married Establishments, would take their discharge rather than remain on under the lower rates. This assumption had been borne out.”9 Pay was reduced fifty cents a day for men in the ranks, with corresponding cuts for those of higher rank. Staff Sergeant George Tatton of the

Royal Canadian Horse Artillery expressed the frustration of many soldiers: “That sure was a kick in

8Canada, House of Commons Debates (July 18, 1924), 4807.

9DND, Annual Report 1925 (Ottawa: King’s Printer, 1925), 55. 113 the bum.”10 New recruits received about $1.20 per day, similar to wages before the Conservative government increased them in 1920. These wages compared favorably to the average hourly wages of western urban laborers, cowboys, or farmhands.

The results of the pay cut were soon evident. About 450 members of the Permanent Force retired or took their discharge over the 1924-25 fiscal year, costing the regulars much needed veterans and their experience. Some units lost ninety percent of the men below corporal, demonstrating the unpopularity of the government’s move with the lower ranks. As virtually no

Permanent Force officers possessed private means, the pay cut placed an increasing hardship on them to maintain the traditional standards of their rank, including costly uniforms. Mess fees were expensive, and while attendance at the dining-in nights was not mandatory, it was deemed that living outside of the mess was detrimental to a young officer’s training and future prospects. As a result, mess fees and subscriptions were graded and payments were spread out as much as possible. The decrease in overall personnel affected the number of qualified instructors and trained personnel that could be detached to the Royal Schools of Instruction. With the losses following the pay cut, in addition to those of the previous year, the Permanent Force faced a steady personnel turnover that forced it to constantly train new recruits, which in turn drove up costs. Enlisting those recruits was difficult because, as Brigadier McNaughton explained, “conditions of service [were] not sufficiently attractive to permit the maintenance of an adequate supply of suitable personnel for training in replacement of our old instructors.”11 Furthermore, officers grew frustrated because there was little

10Mitchell, RCHA, 56.

11Brigadier General A. G. L. McNaughton, “Some Aspects of the Work of the Department of National Defence,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 4 (January 1927): 143-49. 114 chance of promotion with such low strength levels. Brigadier W. A. Griesbach, a highly regarded

First World War officer, saw this trend as dangerous to the Permanent Forces and affecting its primary duty to train the NPAM.12 The Permanent Force’s actual strength on March 31, 1924, was

3,598 of all ranks, and a year later it was 3,330.13 The Militia’s pay cut sacrificed long-term efficiency for the sake of short-sighted penny-pinching. As the pay cut endangered the Permanent

Force’s ability to instruct the NPAM and perform its other duties, how long before the government began to question the need for the Permanent Force altogether?

The Militia’s budgetary struggles drove MacBrien to try to disband the Royal Canadian Navy.

He clashed often with the Director of Naval Services, Commodore Walter Hose. Inter-service cooperation was not possible with these personalities at the top of the Militia and RCN. The British and American governments also considered creating such combined defense departments, but they feared intensified inter-service rivalries. Unfortunately, the new Department of National Defense lent itself to such rivalries. MacBrien feared that if the minister favored the RCN over the Militia, the latter would have no spokesman in the Cabinet as when it had its own minister. He also dreaded that disputes between any of the three services might lead to a total reevaluation of all programs while the minister sought a compromise. MacBrien saw Ottawa’s increasing parsimony and wanted to secure the Militia’s survival. Therefore, he came up with the idea of having himself appointed

“Chief of Staff” to ensure the Militia’s superiority within the new organization. Hose objected,

12W. A. Griesbach to R. B. Bennett, April 9, 1928, Bennett Papers, Reel M-929, p. 28857-60, NAC.

13DND, Annual Report 1924 (Ottawa: King’s Printer, 1924), 54, 74; DND, Report 1925, 55, 56; Bercuson, Patricias, 140; Fetherstonhaugh, Royal Canadian Regiment, 395-96; Tony Foster, Meeting of Generals (Toronto: Methuen, 1986), 59; Granatstein, Canada’s Army, 162; Stanley, Canada’s Soldiers, 342; G. R. Stevens, The Royal Canadian Regiment, vol.2, 1933-1936 (London, Ont.: London Publishing and Lithographing, 1967), 3. According to the defense minister in 1927, J. L. Ralston, many of the men who resigned due to the pay cut eventually re- enlisted. Canada, House of Commons Debates (April 11, 1927), 2273. 115 rightly fearing that while he would retain his seat on the new Defense Council and operational control over the RCN, MacBrien would sacrifice the Navy to stave off the Militia’s decline. Hose’s counter-proposal that they share equal authority and status was not without merit. MacBrien, however, argued that Hose’s proposal defied the idea of having coordination within the new department.14

Hose struggled throughout 1923 to save the RCN from outright dissolution due to the massive budget cuts the government inflicted on his service. In response, he slashed costs by revamping

Canada’s entire naval concept and structure, focusing on training the naval reserve and cutting back on shore installations, ships, and personnel. At its weakest, the RCN had only 366 personnel, two , and four minesweeper-trawlers. Hose also shut down the Naval College at Halifax, forcing all RCN officers to attend Royal Navy facilities for their education.15 These were drastic steps, but necessary if the RCN was to survive.

Macdonald did little to mediate the growing conflict between service chiefs. He replaced

George Graham at National Defense on April 28, 1923. Graham’s decision to drop the portfolio was prompted by his indifference to military matters. Indeed, his indecision and apathy allowed the festering MacBrien-Hose conflict to reach the deplorable level that it did. If he had been more firm with his service chiefs, years of acrimony might have been averted. Macdonald had little desire to take over National Defense, but succumbed to the pressure from King, Graham, and other Cabinet

14Adding insult to injury, Hose was only informed that MacBrien’s title had become official on January 17, 1923, nearly two months after the fact. Even then, Hose only learned this after he pressed for confirmation of a rumor he had heard. Hose had originally supported the creation of the new department. Harris, Canadian Brass, 153-54. The Royal Canadian Air Force was administered as a Directorate of the General Staff. Douglas, Creation of a National Air Force, 61, 62.

15Arthur Bishop, Salute! Canada’s Great Military Leaders from Brock to Dextraze (Toronto: McGraw-Hill Ryerson, 1997), 119, 126. 116 members. Macdonald was little different from Graham; his lack of interest or knowledge in the military perfectly represented the Liberals’ feelings on the military. The military regarded him as an ineffective minister. The deputy minister, G. J. Desbarats, was an experienced official with the

Naval Service. Desbarats refused to recognize or implement the Cabinet directive that placed

MacBrien as Chief of Staff. In addition, he imposed himself between MacBrien and the minister and usurped the coordinating of service policy. MacBrien protested but to no avail. This further strained relations between MacBrien and Hose, and between MacBrien and Desbarats. The main focus of this feud between MacBrien, Hose, and Desbarats was who should offer the government military advice and not what that advice might be. While Macdonald remained in office, his department accomplished little of note.16 An indifferent minister surrounded by a feuding deputy minister and service heads poisoned the atmosphere at National Defense and undercut MacBrien’s efforts to preserve the Militia.

II

Due to an apathetic defense minister and an anti-military prime minister, who served as his own Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs,17 the government declined to define a military policy in the MacBrien and Thacker years. The Militia broached the issue several times, but the prevailing political atmosphere prevented any resolution of this problem.

The General Staff tried to prompt Ottawa into creating or defining a military policy, going so far as to state its own version in its 1922 annual report: “To be prepared for any emergency which

16Dickson, Thoroughly Canadian General, 72; Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 1: 249-50; Harris, Canadian Brass, 154-55.

17Stacey, Canada and the Age of Conflict, 2: ix. By law, the office of the Secretary of State for External Affairs was combined with the Prime Minister’s Office from 1912 through 1946. Richard Veatch, Canada and the League of Nations (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1975), 12. 117 may arise it is necessary to be able to mobilize at short notice a well-trained and fully equipped fighting force, with reinforcements as required.”18 The Militia needed such a comprehensive military policy to guide its preparations for war, complete with the creation of appropriate defense plans.

After a conflict as shattering as the First World War and facing an uncertain future, the government should have defined a new military policy or, at least, restated the old military policy as part of a reevaluation of the Canadian military system. The opportunity for such moves existed while the

Otter Committee integrated the CEF into the NPAM and created a new table of organization, but the

Conservative government failed to act after seeing the anti-military trend in Parliament and the country.

Militia members carped at the lack of governmental direction on military policy. In an early issue of Canadian Defence Quarterly, Colonel J. Sutherland Brown discussed the state of Canada’s military policy. The nation’s last clearly defined policy was announced in 1905. It described the

Militia’s duties as aid to the civil power, defending Canada from foreign powers, and garrisoning the naval bases at Halifax and Esquimalt. In addition, the Permanent Force was responsible for acting as the Militia’s headquarters, command, and district staffs, instructing the NPAM, and maintaining the standard of military knowledge in Canada. Without any new guidance on military policy, the

Permanent Force contrived to execute those standing duties. Brown noted that the new Liberal government was too involved with cutting deficits to consider the question of a policy. Without the

Cabinet’s guidance and approval, furthermore, the staff could only suppose that its wars plans would

18DMD, Report 1922, 5. The British Army was also having problems getting their government to define the tasks for which the army existed. In 1926, General Sir George Milne, Chief of the Imperial General Staff, asked the Secretary of State for War for a definition, in order that the Army Council could plan for the Army’s role better. The council objected and Milne withdrew his request. Bidwell and Graham, Fire-Power, 167-68. 118 be approved during a crisis.19 Brown was asking the government to define a policy so that the

General Staff had some guidance in the postwar atmosphere of ambiguity and neglect. The Militia wanted its role defined so that it no longer had to worry about its own existence. Had Graham or

Macdonald produced a policy conforming to Brown’s guidelines, the internecine struggles between

Hose and MacBrien would have been mitigated or eliminated.

One military decision that Ottawa was willing to make was that it dedicated the Militia to following the British Army’s lead in the postwar era. King, at the 1923 Imperial Conference, committed Canada to similar training methods and standards so imperial forces could easily cooperate. All of Canada’s manuals and tactical training remained British. There was no thought of Canada’s officers creating their own training manuals based on the hard-earned battle savvy that the CEF acquired in Flanders. The war establishments of Canadian units and formations mimicked the British Army’s table of organization. Virtually all equipment was obtained in the United

Kingdom. In addition, Ottawa gave no direction on information-gathering that supported foreign and military policy. King would not send military attachés to other states, forcing the Militia to rely on

British and Imperial intelligence summaries. Canada’s General Staff collected a plethora of reports, estimates, and memoranda from these sources, but few Militia officers had access to them.20 All these moves saved Canada money. King, as will be discussed later, wanted to assert Canada’s independence and sovereignty whenever possible in his foreign policy. But in military policy he

19Brown, “Military Policy of Canada,” 19, 29, 30.

20Lovell C. Clark, ed., Documents on Canadian External Relations, vol.3, 1919-1925 (Ottawa: Information Canada, 1970), 258; Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 1: 89, 91; S. R. Elliot, Scarlet to Green: A History of Intelligence in the Canadian Army (Toronto: Canadian Intelligence and Security Association, 1981), 65. 119 stunted the Militia’s development and consigned it to following British practice for the sake of economy.

The government resigned itself and the nation to a return to prewar traditions, including reliance on Britain and the Militia Myth. Promoters of the myth pointed to the fact that Sir Arthur

Currie was a real-estate agent in 1914, in addition to being the commander of an NPAM unit. There was plenty of contrary evidence that demonstrated the fallacies in these views: the 1st Canadian

Division had to train for seven months after its formation before it could enter the line; there were no qualified Canadian officers to lead that division in 1914; the Canadian Corps did not reach its full strength until the end of 1916; and Currie did not take command of the corps until mid-1917 after he had received considerable training and experience. While speaking before the Canadian Club of

Montreal in November 1926, Brigadier McNaughton questioned the myth’s credibility. Training for modern combat was “a very difficult problem, infinitely more difficult of solution than the corresponding problem of pre-Great War days when armies were relatively immobile, their weapons of comparatively short range and the demands for ammunition and supplies simple in type and moderate in amount.”21 Unprepared citizen soldiers could not be expected to take the field soon after mustering and adequately defend themselves. That formula had not worked in South Africa or in

Flanders. The Militia Myth’s prominence rested on ignorance. Most citizens did not understand the

Militia’s roles and activities. According to Currie, the average Canadian “stands on the side lines and is a little inclined to wonder what it is all about, who sometimes thinks of drills and tactical

21McNaughton, “Some Aspects,” 143-49. 120 exercises as the evolutions of harmless lunatics, amusing for them perhaps, but not important enough to spend money on.”22

Nevertheless, the Canadian government made the pre-war Militia Myth its de facto military policy. This was a discouraging turn of events for Permanent Force staff officers, who realized that the NPAM existed more in theory than fact and that they would be forced to reorganize the Militia in the face of public and veteran indifference, meager budgets, and few training facilities. In the

1922 Militia budget debates, the myth surfaced again with one MP urging: “Let us . . . stop spending money for nothing, and if the time comes when we have need of soldiers, we will find a way, as we did in 1914.”23 The myth again provided an excuse to neglect the military. It fostered the slow rot that came to grip the Militia as a whole.

A 1927 memorandum from General MacBrien to the new minister of National Defense, J.

L. Ralston, noted that the government lacked a defense policy. “We should now reorganize for the future,” MacBrien urged, “and a clearly defined policy is needed in order that all may work intelligently along proper lines towards a common objective.” MacBrien wanted a small but efficient

Militia, with a voluntary but paid NPAM and a Permanent Force large enough to provide instructors and garrisons; maintain stores, arms, and equipment for the NPAM; and provide aid to the civil power. Also, the General Staff should be large enough to create plans for defense and training.

MacBrien pleaded that a military policy was needed to provide aid and support to the NPAM. He explained to Ralston how many NPAM units pooled their pay or trained large numbers over their

22Currie, “Case For a Canadian Militia,” 435; Stacey, Canada and the Age of Conflict, 2: 321.

23Canada, House of Commons Debates (April 25, 1922), 1154; E. L. M. Burns, General Mud: Memoirs of Two World Wars (Toronto: Clarke, Irwin & Company, 1970), 85; Granatstein, Canada’s Army, 156; Roy, For Most Conspicuous Bravery, 85; Stacey, Military Problems of Canada, 86. 121 authorized strength. Training itself was reduced to the minimum worth performing. Yet with the war stocks of equipment and ammunition “practically depleted,” it was coming to a “standstill.”

MacBrien urged that a program be drawn up to equip the Militia along modern lines, including the tank, gas, survey, and sounding units that “modern war has shown to be vital to an Army’s success.”24 Ralston was much more sympathetic than previous ministers, and he managed to raise military budgets, but the MacBrien-Thacker era ended without the Liberal government clearly defining a military policy.

Thacker’s successor, Major General Andrew McNaughton, was equally unsuccessful at getting Ottawa to define a military policy. At various times in McNaughton’s tenure, MPs pressed the government for a statement on Canada’s defense posture. In 1929, Ralston’s response to an MP’s question focused on per capita expenditures and comparisons of the size of the Militia to

Guatemala’s army.25 In 1931, the Conservative minister of National Defense, D. M. Sutherland, avoided the policy question as the debate was sidetracked.26 The Conservatives successfully avoided the issue until 1935 when the new defense minister, , finally stated to Parliament:

The policy of the government with regard to the Department of National Defence is identical, so far as I know, with the policies adopted by the governments of the past. . . . It is to see to it that the forces at its disposal are kept up to the mark; that at least an attempt is made to keep abreast of modern developments in the conduct of punitive expeditions, and it has to maintain a service of efficiency which will stand the test when the testing time comes. In addition, it fulfills another duty, that the force should be distributed throughout Canada in the military districts in such a way that if called upon by the provincial governments in times of stress and strain,

24Chief of Staff, “Memorandum on the Defence Forces of Canada,” January 22, 1927, fol. HQS-5121, RG 24, vol. 2683, NAC.

25Canada, House of Commons Debates (June 4, 1929), 3239-40.

26Ibid. (June 22, 1931), 2896. 122

through civil disturbances within their own boundaries, they can render such assistance as may be necessary to support the police forces of the country.27

This was an adequate (although verbose) summary of the 1905 military policy. In effect, a world war and thirty years of military, industrial, and socio-political developments mattered little. It is not surprising a military policy was never defined, given the political climate toward the military. A policy would have meant that a government was obligated to support the military at a certain level to complete the policy’s objectives. It was not until 1937 and after King’s Liberals had returned to power that a military policy took shape.

III

Canada’s foreign policy in this period evolved largely in the context of participation in the

League of Nations. The League allowed Canada to enter international discussions as a full and equal participant, rather than as a subordinate part of the British Empire. At times, however, Canada refused to cooperate with League initiatives. The Dominion demonstrated an unwillingness to surrender its power to govern domestic matters, such as labor standards or immigration. Moreover,

Canada revealed a total lack of interest in the League’s main purpose, preventing war through collective security.28 Ottawa’s foreign policy goal was clear: to enhance and further Canada’s sovereignty, or the appearance of it without exercising the substance.

Two diplomatic events in the early 1920s had an impact on the Canadian government, the

Washington Naval Conference and the Chanak Incident. The Washington Conference of 1921-22 established naval parity between the United States and Great Britain, as well as vessel tonnage ratios

27Ibid. (March 19, 1935), 1866-67.

28S. Mack Eastman, Canada at Geneva: An Historical Survey and Its Lessons (Toronto: Ryerson Press, 1946), 43; Veatch, Canada and the League of Nations, 3, 6, 10. 123 for France, , and . By agreeing to parity, Britain ended its naval rivalry with the United

States, as well as the improbable danger of an Anglo-American war. The conference also placated

Japan’s naval concerns, which reduced the likelihood of a threat to Canada’s western coast. King, elected as prime minister during the conference, used its results to arbitrarily slash the Royal

Canadian Navy’s budget from $2,500,000 to $1,500,000. If the Great Powers were showing restraint in their naval programs, King asked, why not Canada? The primary result of the conference for

Canada was the elimination of any real threat to its borders.29

The Chanak Incident in September 1922 reflected the growing isolationism in King’s government. The British government sought the Dominions’ aid in the form of troops to hold the

Neutral Zone in against Mustafa Kemal. King, determined not to blindly follow British foreign policy, told London that Canada’s Parliament would decide the extent of the country’s participation. The Canadian Cabinet saw a minor crisis that did not require intervention. King’s ambivalence to the crisis let Britain know that Canadian participation in future conflicts could not be taken for granted. After Chanak, King consistently used the idea of “Parliament will decide” to deflect many foreign policy questions when consulting with British and Dominion leaders. In

Parliament, however, King avoided virtually all foreign policy discussions until June 1936, when he delivered a statement addressing the Ethiopian and Rhineland crises and the collapse of the League of Nations’ efforts at collective security.30 Chanak gave the impetus to King’s foreign policy

29Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 1: 168-69; Swettenham, McNaughton, 1: 197.

30Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 1: 20, 79; Swettenham, McNaughton, 1: 197; Veatch, Canada and the League of Nations, 14, 31-32. J. S. Woodsworth repeatedly tried to force King’s hand by calling for explanations and justifications of government policies, asking pertinent questions, and presenting his own analysis of League activities and of desirable Canadian policy. King never took the bait. Veatch, Canada and the League of Nations, 35. 124 independence and demonstrated his willingness to use international events to declare Canada’s independence.

On international disarmament issues, Canada refused to cooperate with the League. Canada’s military spending was already among the lowest in the world. Canada spent $1.46 per capita on its military in the fiscal year 1923-24. When compared to other nations, these figures constituted an indictment of Canada’s flagging support for its military. Per capita spending for other nations included Great Britain’s $23.04, at $3.30, tiny New Zealand with $2.33, and the United

States at $6.51. Even the spent significantly more on its military, $7.87 per capita.31

Despite Canada’s preference for low military spending, Ottawa would not agree to provide assurances to the League that defense appropriations would be fixed. Canadian diplomats, such as

W. H. Walker, regarded the League’s request for an “arbitrary fixation” at their present level as an attack on Canada’s sovereignty.32 Indeed, King was more than willing to starve his military for his own purposes, but he would not do so at the behest of others.

The King government refused to cooperate on other League issues. From the birth of the

League, Canadian diplomats paid lip service to cooperating on collective security and disarmament issues even as they sought to avoid them. Canada declined to endorse either the Treaty for Mutual

Guarantee or the Geneva Protocol because they contained clauses regarding inviolate borders and automatic sanctions. Ottawa simply did not believe such guarantees enhanced a nation’s security nor did they reduce armaments. Canada did not oppose sanctions or military actions in principle, but simply wanted to preserve Parliament’s freedom to decide on a case-by-case basis. The government

31DND, Report 1924, 6.

32Clark, D.C.E.R., 3: 525. 125 would not accept any understanding that tied its hands. King also ensured that Canada had nothing to do with either the Lausanne or Locarno treaties. By not participating in those agreements, Canada asserted both its isolationist stance and its sovereignty.33 The Liberal government was unwilling to give the League the support necessary to effectively act as an agent of collective security. Ironically, many members of Parliament listed the League of Nations as a reason to reduce the need for a

Canadian military. The answer to this seeming disparity lay in the growing isolationist attitude in

Canada.

Isolationist statements became de rigeur for Canada’s League envoys. Newton Rowell,

President of the Privy Council and Minister of Health, set the pattern for this conduct at the inaugural meeting of the League in 1920: “It was European policy, European statesmanship, European ambition, that drenched this world in blood and from which we are still suffering and will suffer for generations. . . . Fifty thousand Canadians under the soil of France and Flanders is what Canada has paid for European statesmanship trying to settle European problems.”34 This was a classic statement of isolationism, clearly identifying Europe as the main culprit for any future outbreak of global violence. Four years later, the government’s position had softened only slightly by being less vitriolic. Raoul Dandurand, the Liberal government leader in the Senate, stated at the Fifth Assembly

33Allen, Ordeal by Fire, 242, 294; Clark, D.C.E.R., 3: 525, 539, 552; Eastman, Canada at Geneva, 56, 68, 83; Veatch, Canada and the League of Nations, 22. The only treaty that King negotiated as prime minister in the 1920s concerned neither principles nor grand issues, but halibut fishing.

34Gregory A. Johnson and David A. Lenarcie, “The Decade of Transition: The North Atlantic Triangle during the 1920s,” in B. J. C. McKercher and Lawrence Aronsen, eds., The North Atlantic Triangle in a Changing World: Anglo-American-Canadian Relations, 1902-1956 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1996), 85-86. Isolationist statements were also were common during the parliamentary debates on the and the League of Nations. Veatch, Canada and the League of Nations, 29. 126 of the League of Nations: “We live in a fire-proof house, far from inflammable materials. A vast ocean separates us from Europe.”35

Dandurand’s words not only reflected his government’s attitudes, but also the Canadian people’s. At the end of the First World War, Canadians reviled Europe as the source of all major wars. Newspaper editors in the 1920s and 1930s consistently condemned French militarism.

Veterans’ associations became centers of isolationism. Many Canadians saw the League as an instrument for European nations to resolve quarrels that did not involve Canada. Those attitudes also flourished south of the border, and anti-Europeanism grew throughout North America.36

King’s assertions of Canadian sovereignty helps explain his behavior after the signing of the

Kellogg-Briand Pact in late 1928. King accepted his election as a vice-president of the League’s

Assembly, further illustrating the dichotomy in the government’s behavior toward the League.

Canada was more interested in enhancing its position on the world stage rather than any of the

League’s priorities. In many ways it was this desire to use the League for sovereignty that prevented

Canada from lapsing into total isolationism and dropping its membership. When King signed the

Kellogg-Briand Pact, he used the opportunity to expound upon the reasons why Canada considered the League indispensable to harmonious international relations.37

All Canadian political parties accepted the Kellogg-Briand Pact because it did not authorize sanctions or obligations beyond a moral commitment to reduce military armaments. The pact was named for its draftees, Frank Kellogg, the American Secretary of State, and Aristide Briand, the

35Stacey, Canada and the Age of Conflict, 2: 61.

36Eastman, Canada at Geneva, 46, 53, 54; Johnson and Lenarcie, “Decade of Transition,” 86.

37Veatch, Canada and the League of Nations, 3, 6, 10, 11, 14, 70. 127

French Foreign Minister. Signed by sixty-two nations, the pact was an international treaty that renounced war as an instrument of national policy. Some pacifist parliamentarians cited the pact as another reason to reduce Canada’s military expenditures or even disband the Department of National

Defense. They did not accept the idea that membership in the League of Nations carried with it potential obligations, such as the use of force. Canadian politicians seemed only to look at the issue in black and white. If the pact was upheld by all nations, then were no longer needed. If it was not, then armed force might once again be needed to settle international disputes. What the anti-military MPs seemed not to understand was that a rogue state could throw the entire system out of alignment. Yet as anti-military as the Liberal government could be, there was no political benefit in disbanding the military. MP J. T. Thorson suggested that the real effect of the pact was that

Canada demonstrated “a separate international personality of her own.”38 The pact’s main problem was that most nations, even those who did not believe in it, signed knowing there were no mechanisms for enforcement or threats to the aggressor.39

King demonstrated far more thought in framing foreign policy than military policy. To him, foreign policy could demonstrate and reinforce Canada’s sovereignty. A military policy, and a military, had no such useful purpose. Yet, only the most strident pacifists in King’s party wanted to disband the Canadian military. The military’s chief purpose appeared to be domestic, keeping order during strikes and providing other assistance to the civil powers. While King sought political independence from Britain, he also wanted Canada’s military to rely on it for training, manuals,

38Canada, House of Commons Debates (February 19, 1929), 244, 250, 254-55.

39Eastman, Canada at Geneva, 83. 128 equipment, and weapons. This duality matched King’s view of the League of Nations as a tool for

Canada’s sovereignty but not one he would not support fully.

IV

J. L. Ralston took over National Defense on October 8, 1926. Ralston turned out to be a persuasive spokesman for the military, its first effective advocate since the end of the First World

War. During that war, Ralston had commanded the 85th Battalion, CEF. He earned a reputation as a resourceful and skillful officer. In November 1919, Ralston took command of the NPAM’s 6th

Machine Gun Brigade, but resigned because he lacked the time for training and administration due to his legal practice. In April 1924, however, he took command of the 17th Infantry Brigade as a colonel, a position he held when named minister.40 Ralston’s appointment represented a shift by the

Liberals toward having National Defense led by someone interested in the portfolio.

Even though the economy rebounded significantly between 1924 and 1929, Ottawa spent little more on national defense until Ralston became minister. Canadians were absorbed by the prosperous spiral of the mid- and late 1920s. For the average Canadian, prices declined, real wage rates rose, and the wholesale price index went down. The depression of the early 1920s was followed by years of growth, peaking in 1929. Canadian industry recovered and Canada came second only to the United States as an exporter of automobiles, trucks, and parts. Canada’s output of cars rose from 69,801 in 1919 to 188,721 in 1929; in the same period the output of trucks and buses went from 7,319 to 50,293. The government produced budget surpluses from 1923 through

40J. F.C., “The Minister of National Defence,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 4 (January 1927): 134-38. 129

1929 even though its spending steadily increased in that period.41 The general level of prosperity was not reflected in government spending on the military.

Ralston raised the appropriations for all three services, particularly the RCAF, in his first budget. The Militia’s share went from $9,158,593 in 1926-27 to $10,166,706 the next fiscal year and $11,047,233 in 1928-29, an increase of 20 percent. The RCN saw its budget climb from

$1,597,407 in 1926-27 to $1,836,488 in 1928-29, an increase of approximately 15 percent. The

RCAF’s budget rose from $2,197,645 to $5,040,505 in the same period, nearly 130 percent larger.

Money assigned to the NPAM went from $1,709,939 to $2,314,821 in those three years, almost a third of all new money was given to the Militia. The NPAM desperately needed these funds for expanded drill to regain the efficiency that had been eroded from years of little to no training. Much of the rest of the Militia’s increased appropriations went to engineer services and works and to general stores. The added funds paid for the repair and preservation of armories, new stores of clothing, and ammunition for training.42 If Macdonald was unable to raise military budgets because of a lack of public and parliamentary support, then how could Ralston?

In 1927 and 1928, Ralston faced little debate on the necessity of the increases to the Militia’s budget beyond polemics against the military. The complaints centered on the effect of military training on youth and larger issues of peace and security rather than whether or not Canada needed a military. No one objected strenuously to an increase in the number of men training in 1927 or an increase in training days in 1928. In 1927, Ralston produced figures demonstrating that Canada

41 The smallest surplus was only $300,000, but the second smallest was over $27 million. Bothwell et al, Canada 1900-1945, 214, 217, 219; H. Blair Neatby, The Politics of Chaos: Canada in the Thirties, (Toronto: Macmillan, 1972), 164; Thompson et al, Canada 1922-1939, 338.

42DND, Annual Report 1935 (Ottawa: King’s Printer, 1935), 13; Canada, House of Commons Debates (April 11, 1927), 2249; Canada, House of Commons Debates (June 5, 1928), 3762. 130 devoted a smaller percentage of its total budget on defense than many nations and British Dominions.

He meant to convey the impression that Canada was not a warlike nation nor likely to become one with slight increases in military spending. Much of this spending did not go to new weapons or equipment, but merely paid salaries and stipends. Canada spent less than 4 percent of its budget on defense compared to the United States’ 16 percent. For 1928, Ralston stressed that a new increase was intended primarily for training officers. He countered the charge that Canada was arming itself unnecessarily with these words: “When I ask that [Parliament] grant a sufficient sum of money to provide for the training of about nine days of one citizen out of every 300 in this country, it seems to me that after all the charge of being busily arming can hardly be sustained.”43 With Ralston, the

Militia had an advocate who believed in its maintenance at the most efficient level possible. Hence he pushed for increased training and the upkeep of its training facilities.

What little opposition Ralston faced in Parliament thought the government should be promoting peace rather than giving any thought or cash to military preparedness. Some saw a sinister purpose behind any military spending. In 1928, J. S. Woodsworth echoed King’s own statement from 1920 when he declared: “I think we should be distinctly told . . . against whom we are preparing to fight.”44 stated that nothing had happened since 1917 to justify any increase in military expenditures.45 Despite these objections, Ralston succeeded in passing modest increases

43Canada, House of Commons Debates (April 11, 1927), 2245-74; Canada, House of Commons Debates (March 26, 1928), 1702; Canada, House of Commons Debates (May 23, 1928), 3328-48; Canada, House of Commons Debates (June 5, 1928), 3758-65.

44Ibid. (March 26, 1928), 1700, 1721, 1724; Ibid. (May 23, 1928), 3330.

45Ibid. (May 23, 1928), 3332-44. 131 with relative ease. Canada’s improved economic position perhaps explained the lack of solid resistance, although how ridiculously low defense spending had fallen surely played a part too.

The attitude of Canadians outside Parliament in the 1920s ranged from indifferent to actually hostile toward the military. A softening attitude can be detected in the number of young men enrolled in cadet battalions around the nation. In 1920, these units trained 65,440. By 1922, the number had increased to 101,431 and it reached 130,298 in 1928.46 Literary circles exuded a renewed anti-military stance, best exemplified by Harold Peat’s The Inexcusable Lie (1923). After this book’s appearance, the horror and filth of trench warfare became persistent themes in postwar novels and histories. A 1928 MacLean’s article called “The Truth About the War,” which sought to refute American writers who denigrated the British and Canadian performance in the First World

War, paradoxically contained strong anti-war statements. The author, Major George A. Drew, an

NPAM artillery officer, referred to the “horror, misery and suffering” of trench warfare. John

Cameron Martin’s 1928 Canadian Forum article decried the military’s budget increases. He employed isolationist arguments that cited the United States and the oceans as barriers against invasion, relieving Canada of the burdensome need for armaments.47

The retirement of General MacBrien on June 1, 1927 was as trying for Ralston as passing military budgets. MacBrien had tendered his resignation as early as June 1925, due to his frustration with his political superiors. This frustration soon turned into a resentment against what he saw as a lack of proper financial support for the Militia. Soon after Ralston took over as minister, MacBrien

46DMD, Report 1920, 15; DMD, Report 1922, 22; DND, Annual Report 1928 (Ottawa: King’s Printer, 1928), 36.

47Pierre Berton, Marching as to War: Canada’s Turbulent Years 1899-1953 (Toronto: Doubleday, 2001), 299; Major George A. Drew, “The Truth About the War,” MacLean’s, July 1, 1928, 40; John Cameron Martin, “Millions for Defence,” Canadian Forum, July 1928, 708-11. 132 tendered his resignation again and it was accepted. MacBrien’s odd behavior afterwards has muddied his reputation as much as his fights with Commodore Hose and Deputy Minister Desbarats.

This conduct included hints that he was seeking service with , asking for a house on government-owned land, and seeking his own reappointment. Ralston and MacBrien’s correspondence over the retirement reveals hurt feelings on both sides.48

MacBrien’s replacement was Major General H. C. Thacker. Thacker was a decorated

Permanent Force artillery officer who had served in the South African War and the First World War.

Thacker accepted the appointment under the condition that he would act as a caretaker until Brigadier

McNaughton completed a tour commanding a military district. Thacker consented to Ralston’s requests that his title return to Chief of the General Staff, which included surrendering all authority over the RCN and responsibility for co-ordinating defense policy. Commodore Hose became Chief of the Naval Staff with equal status to the CGS. Thacker also resurrected the Militia Council as a forum for army issues. This move underscored the separation of the RCN and the Militia within the department. In addition, Thacker tried to press Ottawa on defining a defense policy, but without success. The Militia’s senior officers realized that Canada was in no danger of attack and the greatest threats to peace resided in Europe and Asia. They argued that it made sense for strategic, political, and practical reasons to prepare to field an expeditionary force, since the nation would demand action if the Empire was threatened. Thacker ordered his officers to prepare a defense scheme covering this possibility.49 McNaughton replaced Thacker as Chief of the General Staff on January 1, 1929.

48Norman Hillmer and William McAndrew, “The Cunning of Restraint: General J. H. MacBrien and the Problems of Peacetime Soldiering,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 8 (July, 1979): 40-46.

49Editorial, Canadian Defence Quarterly 4 (July 1927): 379-80; Harris, Canadian Brass, 155-56, 160, 174. The order changing Thacker’s title came on July 15, 1927: General Order No. 55, July 15, 1927, RG 24, vol. 1924, NAC. 133

V

The highlight of this period for the Militia, in its relations with the government, was the appointment of Ralston as defense minister. Before that, the Militia suffered under ministers who took little interest in their portfolio and the administration of Canada’s tiny military. These apathetic ministers reflected the prevailing public attitude in Canada toward the questions of war and peace.

On the other hand, Prime Minister King practiced a complex foreign policy in order to fulfill

Canada’s sovereignty goals. He used participation and non-participation in international agreements and the League of Nations to demonstrate Canada’s independence from Great Britain. Only the promotion of Canada’s sovereignty prevented King from becoming as isolationist as many

Americans were becoming in this period. But when it came to military policy, King was content to follow tradition and Great Britain’s lead. To King, the military had little substantial use, whereas an assertive foreign policy enhanced Canada’s standing.

As a result of government neglect, many senior Militia officers in this period worried about the continued existence of their service. They tried to pressure Ottawa to define their role in postwar

Canada or provide them with the means to carry out those duties defined under the military policy of 1905. By defining a military policy, however, the Liberal government would have had to definitively state that it viewed a future where military conflict was again possible. Politically, this was unacceptable. Despite the lessons of experience in various conflicts, Canadians did not see a connection between its welfare and the state of military preparation. Few wanted to spend money on preparedness in peacetime. No politician wanted to admit that another expeditionary force might be necessary in the future. That force, in the discourse of Canadian politics, pointed to the possibility 134 of ,50 the twentieth-century equivalent of the standing army chimera. Slowly starving the Militia by ever-decreasing budgets became the politicians’ alternative. This choice was informed by the Militia Myth, which offered the hope that potent military forces could be raised at a moment’s notice. The Militia’s senior officers spent too much of their time in this period playing political games trying to justify their purpose and win funds to sustain the Militia.

Only as the public attitude toward the military softened could a more active minister be appointed to National Defense. MacBrien lacked the power to take advantage of this shift in public opinion, as he was distracted by quarrels with Hose and Desbarats and then with his former subordinate Ralston. MacBrien may have been cool under fire in France and Flanders, but in Canada he could not handle the stress of his position with the same aplomb. Thacker, too, proved impotent to move the Militia forward or pressure the government to define a military policy. Thacker facilitated increased training for the NPAM, but that cured few of the effects of government skimping during the earlier part of the decade.

50David J. Bercuson, Maple Leaf Against the Axis: Canada’s Second World War (Toronto: Stoddart, 1995), 8; C. P. Stacey, Arms, Men and Governments: The War Policies of Canada, 1939-1945 (Ottawa: Queen’s Printer, 1970), 1; C. P. Stacey, Official History of the Canadian Army in the Second World War, vol.1, Six Years of War: The Army in Canada, Britain and the Pacific (Ottawa: Queen’s Printer, 1955), 3. 135

CHAPTER SIX:

“A SENSELESS WASTE OF TAXPAYER’S MONEY”?

THE NPAM’S PROBLEMS IN THE MACBRIEN-THACKER YEARS, 1923-28

The Militia reacted to government parsimony and public hostility in many ways. Few men wanted to enlist in the Militia when service carried low social prestige. Units struggled to offer incentives to overcome that reluctance. These could be recreational, financial, or even spiritual.

Another way the Militia reacted to tight budgets was by encouraging intellectual development.

While the Militia may have lacked the funds to train thoroughly or experiment with new machines, it could encourage its officers and soldiers to think. The most important step in this process was the founding of a professional military journal, the Canadian Defence Quarterly (CDQ). The NPAM had to make special efforts to conduct practical training throughout this period. Some militiamen pooled their own pay to finance these exercises without causing expense to the public. A popular saying amongst Alberta NPAM units during the interwar years was “We Stand on Guard for Thee

(At Our Own Expense.)”1 For most who joined the NPAM during these years, it was a choice that implied constant sacrifice for the sake of one’s belief that the defense of Canada was worth it.

I

During the 1920s, the government’s attitude toward military expenditures was not out of step with public sentiments. Just as veterans wanted to distance themselves from the military after “the war to end all wars,” the public wanted relief from depression and high taxes. The public perception of the Militia fluctuated in the postwar years, but it was mostly negative. It took a certain type of

1Graves, Century of Service, 187. 136 individual to want to belong to an organization scorned by the public at large. Recruiting was sometimes difficult, and many NPAM units had to make extraordinary efforts to simply survive. The

Permanent Force focused its attention in this period on performing its duty as NPAM instructors.

Its members also developed other methods to encourage the intellectual development of Canada’s soldiers, such as the Militia Staff Course and the CDQ.

Most Canadians were proud of their soldiers and their accomplishments in the Great War, but this did not translate into postwar support for the Militia. Indeed, the memorials in hundreds of

Canadian communities are a testament to that pride. But few Canadians viewed a military career as prestigious, respectable, financially or personally rewarding. Peter Simonds, a Second World War veteran, commented on the public’s perception of the Permanent Force: “Many Canadians regarded it as an archaic institution which was a senseless waste of the taxpayer’s money. Life in it was generally looked on as one of idleness and petty routine — which it probably was. It was certainly not enough to appeal to enough first rate men, such as university honors graduates, to fill its officer vacancies.”2

The Militia’s low social prestige was evident in many centers. Historian Tony Foster recalled his father’s experiences in Calgary as a member of Lord Strathcona’s Horse, where the citizens viewed the army as “a collection of social parasites,” with their “childish toy-soldier uniforms [and] their unproductive playing at foolish war games.” Foster declared that it “required a special temperament to withstand the never-ending public ridicule of professional ‘soldier boys.’”3 Where

2Russell A. Hart, Clash of Arms: How the Allies Won in Normandy (Boulder: Lynne Rienner, 2001), 40; Marteinson, Governor-General’s Horse Guards, 127; Peter Simonds, Maple Leaf Up, Maple Leaf Down: The Story of the Canadians in the Second World War (New York: Island Press, 1946), 3-4; Jonathan F. Vance, Death So Noble: Memory, Meaning, and the First World War (Vancouver: UBC Press, 1997), 28.

3Foster, Meeting of Generals, 62, 73. 137 it had once been the popular thing to join the Militia, now it was the opposite. Some even indicated that the true patriot was the man who refused to serve in the military. It became the fashion to sneer at the NPAM’s “Saturday night soldiers,” especially with a government that appeared to regard the

Militia as a nuisance and unnecessary drain on the budget. Even the demobilized soldier was unlikely to support the Militia. This sometimes belligerent public attitude toward the military allowed the government to get away with neglecting the military. Nevertheless, there was a certain social cachet for joining the NPAM, despite all the anti-war feelings in parts of society and around the country. In smaller towns, the armory was a center of social activity. In larger cities, officers often came from the professional and business classes. Some cities, such as Winnipeg, treated the

Militia with civility and even pride during occasional public appearances.4

Life in the Permanent Force was not very attractive at times. Ottawa spent little money on improving for the Permanent Force. In the 1920s, the Lord Strathcona’s Horse in Calgary was set up in the Metawa Armory’s basement, which the inspector general labeled poor and unsanitary. They shared these unsuitable quarters with NPAM units. National Defense would not allocate funds to build a proper barracks for the regiment. Its barns and parade square were located next to the city’s garbage dump and one mile away from the armories. Meals were often inadequate, mostly due to untrained cooks. When equipment wore out during the interwar years, Ottawa rarely authorized its replacement. Troops lacked proper clothing to protect them from rain or cold weather. But small measures helped improve the conditions for some, such as sports equipment or a barracks room for dances or other entertainment. Free dental treatment for the regulars, at least to keep the teeth in

4Barnard, Queen’s Own Rifles of Canada, 128; Foster, Meeting of Generals, 65; Goodspeed, Battle Royal, 316; Granatstein, Generals, 22-23; John Gordon Quigley, A Century of Rifles 1860-1960: The Halifax Rifles (RCAC) (M) (Halifax: Wm. Macnab, [1960?]), 88. 138 sanitary conditions, was another minor perk. When not training, Permanent Force officers contented themselves with horseback sports like polo or social events in garrison cities and towns.5

In the interwar years, the NPAM was hard-pressed to survive. The public perception of the military made recruiting difficult. Militia units in urban areas had greater success in keeping themselves alive than those in rural areas due to the larger resources and concentrated populations.

Many of the younger generation, men too young to have served in the First World War, looked upon the Militia as a waste of time and effort. Present and past regimental members cooperated to prevent as much deterioration as they could. One comment that appears in unit history after unit history, and even official documents, is that a regiment’s officers and soldiers donated their training pay to the regimental fund for general maintenance. Some units made signing over one’s pay a stipulation for joining. Only these funds kept some battalions in existence. In 1927, 402 of the Militia’s 870 units turned over part or the whole of their pay to their unit. Many of the remaining 468 units existed as paper units or were virtually so with only a few officers and men on the lists. There were many soldiers who attended weekly or twice weekly parades, went to summer camp, and otherwise gave their time without remuneration. This gave new definition to the term “volunteer service.” Indeed, many officers, who paid for their own uniforms and accouterments, suffered financial loss for serving in the NPAM. In some city units the soldiers received a streetcar ticket, coffee, and sandwiches in return for their weekly military responsibilities; this was paid for out of the twenty cents per parade that a soldier earned and donated back to the regiment. Some units allowed soldiers to keep the

5Dick Cunniffe, Scarlet, Riflegreen and Khaki: The Military in Calgary (Calgary: Century Calgary Publications, 1975), 25; Cunniffe, Story of a Regiment, 159; Foster, Meeting of Generals, 60; Dominick Graham, The Price of Command: A Biography of General Guy Simonds (Toronto: Stoddart, 1993), 25; Johnston, Fighting Perths, 27; Mitchell, RCHA, 69. 139 small amount that they earned going to camp as compensation for spending their vacation time on military training. No NPAM unit coerced its members’ attendance at drills or summer camps.6

Young men were hard to recruit and harder to keep, particularly when they saw the conditions under which the NPAM was forced to operate. Dressing up once or twice a week in musty uniforms and marching around a drill hall, with films on military subjects thrown in for good measure with lectures on first aid, tactics, or military law, was not a stimulating recreational experience. Those experiences that young men might like to gain, such as with motor vehicles or wireless radio sets, were few and far between. In the Permanent Force there was only one motor vehicle for every ten horses. The NPAM borrowed or rented its horses.7 Sometimes the armory itself could make a difference to recruitment. The DOC of Military District No.12 credited Regina’s poor armory for the reason why the 1st Battalion, South Saskatchewan Regiment, was “very much under strength,” but its 2nd Battalion in the smaller city of Moose Jaw, with a newer armory, trained with eleven men over strength.8 Within the Militia, some tried to address how to deal with a new breed of soldiers.

6Uniforms for officers could cost from $400 to $1,400 in a Highland regiment, but used uniforms could often be obtained. Major-General H. A. Panet, DOC Military District No.2, to Deputy Minister, March 20, 1923, fol. HQ-33-1-248-3-vol.2, RG 24, vol. 323, NAC; Canada, House of Commons Debates (April 11, 1927), 2248-49; Christopher J. Anstead, “Patriotism and Camaraderie: Workingmen in a Peacetime Militia Regiment 1907-1954,” Social History 26 (November 1993): 253; George Taylor Baylay, The Regimental History of the Governor- General’s (Ottawa: Mortimer Limited, 1948), 31; Beattie, Dileas, 5; Granatstein, Generals, 23, 24; James McGivern Humphrey, The Golden Bridge of Memoirs (Don Mills, Ont.: Thomas Nelson & Sons, 1979), 76; Richard Wilfred Queen-Hughes, Whatever Men Dare: A History of the Queen’s Own Cameron Highlanders of Canada (Winnipeg: Bulman Brothers Limited, 1960), 3; Roy, Ready for the Fray, 9; Reginald H. Roy, The Seaforth Highlanders of Canada, 1919-1965 (Vancouver: Evergreen Press, 1969), 17; Stevens, Royal Canadian Regiment, 2: 2.

7Bercuson, Maple Leaf Against the Axis, 7; Bercuson, Patricias, 138; Roy, Ready for the Fray, 9; Roy, Seaforth Highlanders, 15; Roy, Sinews of Steel, 76. The inherent problem of renting horses for training was that officers and men often rode unfamiliar mounts that might not be suitable for military activities. At least one officer, Lieutenant J. Fred Scott, was injured after getting thrown from a horse that took fright at the noise from a . Graves, Century of Service, 181.

8Colonel D. M. Ormond, DOC Military District No.12, to Deputy Minister, February 15, 1924, fol. HQ-33- 1-248-3, RG 24, vol. 325, NAC. 140

Sergeant Major Instructor E. J. Simon of the Royal Canadian Regiment noted that new soldiers were expected not only to do the things of soldiers past – march, shoot, and obey – but also “dabble in the realms of science.” Men like that could not be expected to respond to the old methods of “constant soul-killing drill.” Instead of fear of punishment, officers and NCOs had to “inculcate ideals of conduct and achievement; we must develop his mental faculties and we must encourage a display of reasonable judgement and initiative.”9

With many units struggling to survive and a negative public image, why would anyone join the NPAM? Lieutenant General Maurice Pope offered in his memoirs: “Many persons join the

Militia in the belief that they are thereby discharging a public duty. Others see in it an agreeable hobby. Another class may be attracted by the display of uniform, the satisfaction derived from public parades and by enhanced position in the community to which they may arise through their associations with the Militia.”10 Pope had captured three of the primary reasons to join the Militia: patriotism, a hobby, and social prestige. There might also have been a financial motive, particularly during economic depressions, in those NPAM units that allowed members to keep part or all of their pay. But no one was going to get rich serving in the Militia.

Members of the Militia stressed patriotism to potential recruits. Sir Arthur Currie suggested that the militia soldier was “moved by tradition, he thinks of the great adventure, he feels the urge of patriotism, and he hears, too, the call of duty.”11 Brigadier General J. A. Gunn, in a 1925

Canadian Defence Quarterly article, had a similar argument, but also stressed loyalty to the British

9Sergeant Major Instructor E. J. Simon, “Discipline and Personality,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 2 (April 1925): 233-34.

10Pope, Soldiers and Politicians, 86-88.

11Currie, “Case For a Canadian Militia,” 435. 141

Empire. Related to the idea of a public duty was regimental pride. For many recruits, whose fathers, brothers, or other relatives might have served in the same regiment, ensuring that it survived in difficult times was a powerful incentive to join. The officers and soldiers took it upon themselves to defend Canada, even if the government ignored the military and the average citizen did not think

Canada needed guarding.12

The hobby motive cannot be easily discounted either. Historian D. J. Goodspeed commented:

“There was something peculiarly satisfying about going to the armouries on a parade night, meeting friends there, and spending a few hours together acquiring new skills.”13 The NPAM provided a well-organized local club and support network for its members. The regiment’s members took their training seriously but when not at parade the distinctions between NCOs and the men were not strictly observed. For instance, the ’s personnel would gather after parades for a beer in one of the messes or for a few rounds on the horseshoe pitch. The Elgin Regiment was fortunate that it had a new recreation room, which included such facilities as a billiard table and reading room. By no small coincidence, the Elgins possessed a full slate of officers and NCOs by

1926.14 Recreation facilities helped with recruiting by making a regiment appear to be as much a social club as a military organization.

12Graves, Century of Service, 188; Brigadier General J. A. Gunn, “The Militia of Our Needs,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 2 (April 1925): 214; Roy, Ready for the Fray, 9.

13Goodspeed, Battle Royal, 319.

14Anstead, “Patriotism and Camaraderie,” 254; Captain Leonard A. Curchin and Lieutenant Brian D. Sim, The Elgins: The Story of the Elgin Regt. (RCAC) and Its Predecessors (St. Thomas, Ont.: Sutherland Press, 1977), 51; Graves, Century of Service, 188; Jeffrey Williams, Far from Home: A Memoir of a Twentieth Century Soldier (Calgary: University of Calgary Press, 2003), 92. 142

The lawyers, bank managers, and industrialists who primarily comprised the NPAM’s officer corps still saw an organization worth supporting. To many of these men, however, it was important in a social sense. For example, the Seaforth Highlanders of Canada was well-connected politically, socially, and financially, which made holding a commission in it something to be coveted. The regiment’s list of officers read almost as a Vancouver’s “who’s who,” as it deliberately solicited its leadership from the city’s professional classes. Royal Military College graduates were required to serve in the NPAM if they did not join the Permanent Force. Seeing no future in the regulars, most took a militia commission and entered business or a civilian profession. Some regarded service in particular NPAM units as a socially desirable, if difficult to obtain, prize.15

NPAM units devised inventive tactics to enlist needed recruits. Some regiments enjoyed certain advantages that let them stand out, such as Highland dress. As Richard Wilfred Queen-

Hughes, a former officer of the Queen’s Own Cameron Highlanders of Canada, asserted: “There was, without doubt, a strong attraction too, in the skirl of the pipes, the swing of the kilts and the flair of the feather bonnet.”16 The “intoxicating beat of military drums and the wild war music of the pipes” of a Highland band inspired Jeffrey Williams to join the Calgary Highlanders in 1937. The

Stormont, Dundas and Glengarry Highlanders became a kilted regiment soon after its reorganization in order to appeal more broadly to the potential pool of recruits. The unit only fielded 89 of all ranks in 1923-24. By 1925, it was up to 140. The Canadian Scottish Regiment stimulated recruiting by offering prizes to its members who brought in recruits, including tartan ties and swagger canes.

15Bercuson, Maple Leaf Against the Axis, 7; Delaney, Soldier’s General, 17-18; Graham, Price of Command, 25; Granatstein, Canada’s Army, 160; Richard A. Preston, Canada’s RMC: A History of the Royal Military College (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1969), 251.

16Queen-Hughes, Whatever Men Dare, 3. 143

Some units lured back Great War veterans by operating canteens that offered alcohol, which was banned in “dry” provinces after the war. Many veterans joined, but they would rarely turn out for drill parades.17

The most common method of enticing and keeping volunteers revolved around sports. Some units added sports to their training and drill regimen with their reorganization in the early 1920s, whereas others waited until late in the decade. Physical activities filled the training schedule when resources were short. Friendly but serious inter-company rivalries could foster proficiency and efficiency in military skills as well as sports. These competitions kept morale and enthusiasm for training relatively high. At least one regiment billed itself as more of a young man’s athletic organization than a military unit. Sometimes these sports teams competed locally. The Permanent

Force’s Royal Canadian Horse Artillery (RCHA) battery in Winnipeg had hockey, track-and-field, soccer and baseball teams, in addition to garrison boxing matches. When there were waiting lists to join the RCHA, the selection of new recruits often depended on athletic abilities. A good sports record could jump a candidate up the list. Other sports the RCHA practiced, sometimes to demonstrate to the public, were vaulting and tent-pegging. These activities also added spice to the lives of the Permanent Force.18

17Bird, North Shore, 96; William Boss, Stormont, Dundas and Glengarry Highlanders, 1783-1951 (Ottawa: Runge Press, 1952), 134, 136, 138; Roy, Ready for the Fray, 19; Roy, Seaforth Highlanders, 16; Williams, Far from Home, 88.

18Anstead, “Patriotism and Camaraderie,” 258; Barnard, Queen’s Own Rifles of Canada, 129; Baylay, Governor-General’s Foot Guards, 33; Delaney, Soldier’s General, 17-18; A. Fortsecue Duguid, History of the Canadian Guards 1760-1964 (Montreal: Gazette Publishing, 1965), 234; Farran, Calgary Highlanders, 18; Mitchell, RCHA, 57, 60, 66-67; Queen-Hughes, Whatever Men Dare, 2, 4; Roy, Ready for the Fray, 19; Roy, Seaforth Highlanders, 25. MP J. S. Woodsworth later castigated the government for a circular from the Winnipeg Light Infantry that disturbed him because it suggested the battalion was more a young man’s athletic club than a military unit. Canada, House of Commons Debates (June 22, 1931), 2893-94. 144

Many city NPAM units held several social events throughout the year not only to gain recruits, but because they had other tangible benefits. Historian H. M. Jackson commented: “An active programme of military ceremonial, pageantry and recreation also served not only to keep up the proud customs and traditions so strongly cherished and to maintain a high standard of morale, but also to help encourage and sustain a patriotic spirit of national responsibility and of loyalty to the

Crown, and as well to support an awareness and sensibility of the necessity for preparedness.”19

Regiments might host an officer’s mess or regimental dinner to acquaint influential individuals or groups with the Militia and gain local support. Music played an important role in other social events.

Units staged “Smoking Concerts” and other dances, and invited potential recruits to encourage enlistment. By charging admission or using the opportunity as a fund-raiser, such affairs could also help to pay a battalion’s training expenses. Military bands also performed at local events, often on important occasions such as St. Andrew’s Day, which fostered considerable good will. Other social events that a unit might utilize included Highland gatherings, annual officers’ mess dinners, theater nights, visits to outlying towns, military tattoos and tournaments, and providing honor guards.20

The Militia used a variety of parades, almost all at no cost to the public, to place its needs before the Canadian people. Brigadier Gunn insisted that the NPAM’s city corps needed full-dress uniform for their ceremonies to encourage recruiting and endear the Militia to the populace again.

19H. M. Jackson, ed., The Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders of Canada (Princess Louise’s) 1928-1953 (Hamilton: The Regiment, 1953), 2.

20Barnard, Queen’s Own Rifles of Canada, 129; Bird, North Shore, 95; Curchin and Sim, Elgins, 55; Farran, Calgary Highlanders, 15; Foster, Meeting of Generals, 65; Graves, Century of Service, 187, 189; Paul P. Hutchinson, Canada’s Black Watch: The First Hundred Years 1862-1962 (Montreal: The Black Watch (Royal Highland Regiment) of Canada, 1962), 150; Jackson, Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders of Canada, 2, 15; Queen- Hughes, Whatever Men Dare, 3, 5; Roy, Ready for the Fray, 18; Roy, Seaforth Highlanders, 17; Roy, Sinews of Steel, 75. 145

“The public is fond of a show,” Gunn commented, “Give it to them.”21 There were church parades,

Remembrance Day parades, Decoration Day parades, and regimental parades on Sundays closest to a particular First World War battle in which the unit distinguished itself. In Alberta, for instance, the NPAM frequently paraded at public events, such as the opening or closing of the provincial legislature, Dominion Day or civic parades, funerals for prominent soldiers or civic leaders, and at the famous Calgary Stampede.22

Many NPAM regiments enlisted a patron, usually a prominent local citizen or even a member of the British royalty, to be the regiment’s “Honorary Colonel” or “Honorary Lieutenant Colonel.”

These individuals proved indispensable for their financial aid and other assistance, as well as lobbying the public and government. For example, the First Hussars’ honorary lieutenant colonel,

J. E. Smallman, made his ranch and horses available for the regiment’s training and maneuvers.

Some honorary officers offered cash prizes for regimental members who brought in new recruits.

Honorary colonels often came in handy for the more expensive items of the kit in ceremonial full dress uniforms. The Seaforths’ honorary lieutenant colonel from 1924 to 1957 was John Arthur

Clark, a prominent lawyer and Conservative member of Parliament from 1921 to 1930. Clark helped the regiment in many ways, but most notably aiding the regiment get a new armory in 1934 and persuading the government to relieve import duties on kilts in 1938.23

21Gunn, “Militia of Our Needs,” 216-17.

22Graves, Century of Service, 179-80.

23Barnard, Queen’s Own Rifles of Canada, 129; Bird, North Shore, 95; Delaney, Soldier’s General, 17-18; Farran, Calgary Highlanders, 11; Graves, Century of Service, 180; Roy, Seaforth Highlanders, 22; Stark, First Hussars Regiment, 7. 146

Commanding officers also went above the call of duty in supporting their own unit. The

Wentworth Regiment’s Lieutenant Colonel Armand Smith, whose family owned the E.D. Smith Jam

Company, was an exemplary officer. Smith established “C” Company at a plant, built a rifle range in the basement, organized a parade square in the shipping yards, added a sergeant’s mess to the plant’s second floor, and his family’s trucks took the company to its summer camps.24

The Permanent Force could also participate in public affairs. The Lord Strathcona’s Horse staged musical rides and demonstrations at summer fairs and polo matches against the U.S. Army team. The musical rides involved horsemen performing intricate parade-square maneuvers not normally associated with horses, all to the tempo of accompanying music. Similar to the musical rides, the RCHA had musical drives for much of the interwar years. The drives used four teams of six horses pulling a 12-pounder gun to perform their often daring routine. The drives were meant to encourage recruitment, demonstrate the RCHA’s proficiency, and stimulate and maintain interest in the Militia. For the soldiers involved, the drives and rides added a measure of excitement and interest to their otherwise dull routines.25

The NPAM also worked to ensure the retention of its current members by fostering esprit de corps. Units tried to do that primarily by teaching their unit’s traditions, history, and culture. Cadet battalions or regimental associations aided in this effort. Some units tried to promote a sense of kinship by involving the families of their members. They hosted Christmas parties for the children of serving members. Outings to rifle ranges became family picnics. To encourage friendly

24Granatstein, Canada’s Army, 161.

25Cunniffe, Story of a Regiment, 177; Graham, Price of Command, 25; Mitchell, RCHA, 59. 147 competition, the Militia had district, brigade, regimental and inter-regimental trophies for marksmanship, signalling, drill, horsemanship, and team jumping, among other activities.26

By the late 1920s, Canadian public opinion was growing quietly tolerant of the military.

Memories of the war were softening and the postwar apathy and anti-militarism were no longer rampant. The 1922 Chanak crisis renewed some interest in the Militia despite King’s blase reaction to it. A new generation was coming of age in the early and mid-1920s and some began to enlist in their local batteries and regiments. In 1923, one camp in Alberta commented that except for the senior NCOs, the ranks consisted mainly of young men between 18 and 21 years of age. Colonel D. M. Ormond, DOC of Military District No.12, reported in 1924 a “considerable change of attitude on the part of the public.” Several towns had written to him to request a camp be held in their vicinity that year. In fact, other commanding officers had reached the conclusion that by making local arrangements for the food supplies of their camps, they could bolster the public’s opinion of the Militia.27

In a country as diverse as Canada, it is not surprising that some units enjoyed a slight membership revival in the late 1920s while others suffered losses or remained stable. The Halifax

Rifles fielded 458 of all ranks for a tactical exercise in November 1921. By April 1928, its strength had fallen to 125 officers and men. The Royal Hamilton Light Infantry kept a steady number of officers throughout the period, but its complement of other ranks slowly decreased. A regimental

26Bird, North Shore, 94; Graves, Century of Service, 184; Roy, Seaforth Highlanders, 19.

27“Training Report Camps of Instruction, 1921,” October 15, 1921, fol. HQ-33-19-12, RG 24, vol. 6284, NAC; Memorandum on Cooking Lake Camp Infantry Training 1923, July 14, 1923, fol. HQ-33-171-1, RG 24, vol. 6285, NAC; Colonel D. M. Ormond, DOC Military District No.12, to Deputy Minister, April 1, 1924, fol. HQ-33-1- 249-1-vol.1, RG 24, vol. 326, NAC; Goodspeed, Battle Royal, 318; Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 1: 78; Roy, For Most Conspicuous Bravery, 92; Roy, Ready for the Fray, 20; Roy, Sinews of Steel, 76. 148 history blames this difficulty with retention on reduced training budgets. The 8th Hussars, whose strength was about 90 of all ranks throughout the 1920s, blamed the low budgets for its decision to turn away potential recruits. In Alberta, where few units had deep roots in their communities, the

NPAM faced great difficulties in recruiting. Both battalions of the Alberta Mounted Rifles, based in smaller rural centers, could not procure enough officers or men. The North Alberta Regiment never mustered more than a weak platoon until it became moribund around 1931.28 Throughout

Canada, there was not enough money to support larger efforts and not enough military interest to make Ottawa reconsider its thrift. This changed slightly by the end of the decade due to Ralston.

What could the Militia accomplish in this atmosphere of neglect and indifference? Over the

1923-24 fiscal year, the General Staff adopted a policy of focused training for the Permanent Force.

This policy was similar to the one Commodore Hose chose for the RCN due to budget cuts. Because of the restricted amount of money available, the staff limited training to officers, NCOs, and specialists. The General Staff followed this training policy, with some modifications, for the entire interwar period. The staff made this decision to create a nucleus of trained personnel capable of instructing the NPAM in peacetime and upon mobilization. The 1924 report described this change and disclosed that officers were becoming weary of training skeleton formations. Interest in the

Militia was waning as a result. The General Staff warned that without an increased grant, it would have to consider reducing and reorganizing units. The staff stressed that the NPAM needed to be

28DND, Report 1924, 5; Graves, Century of Service, 181; Greenhous, Semper Paratus, 158; How, 8th Hussars, 77, 79; Quigley, Century of Rifles, 80, 86; Rogers, History of the Lincoln and Welland Regiment, 88; Roy, Seaforth Highlanders, 26. 149 trained in camps from 12 to 16 days a year, in addition to training at local headquarters, not the 9 days at local headquarters allotted infantry and cavalry regiments.29

General Staff reports for the years that followed did not differ significantly. The 1925 report again stated that the Militia’s training policy concentrated on the practical preparation of young officers, NCOs, and specialists “by limiting the training of other ranks to the minimum necessary to maintain the unit organization.” Nevertheless, comprehensive unit training was “an urgent necessity.”30 The 1926 and 1927 reports repeated these sentiments. The 1926 report commented:

“As time goes on it must be expected that it will become more and more difficult to maintain the present standard of training.”31 The 1928 and 1929 reports both noted the training budget increases.

These allowed the General Staff to raise the number of men allowed to drill and lengthen the training period from 9 to 12 days. The staff noted the longer period enabled further progress toward efficiency while also increasing interest in training throughout the NPAM.32

The Permanent Force adopted different practices to maintain its efficiency, perform its duties, and prepare its soldiers. The primary practice was a program of continuing education. Every officer

29Colonel C. J. Armstrong, DOC Military District No.4, to all Units, Military District No.4, April 5, 1923, fol. HQ-33-1-248-3-vol.3, RG 24, vol. 323, NAC; DND, Report 1924, 5-6, 13. Artillery batteries received authorization for two days at local headquarters and eight days at practice camp. Coastal artillery were authorized for eight days at local headquarters and four days of practice at fort.

30DND, Report 1925, 6. Using similar language, McNaughton warned in a 1925 letter: “In the preparation of Training programmes and, in order to derive the greatest possible benefit from the limited funds disposable, it is desirable that attention should be concentrated on young officers, non-commissioned officers and the various specialists . . . . The numbers of other ranks trained should be sufficient only to ensure that the unit organization is maintained and that the instruction of officers and NCOs is of a practical nature.” Brigadier A. G. L. McNaughton, Programme of Training 1925-1926, March 21, 1925, fol. HQ-33-1-250-1-vol.1, RG 24, vol. 329, NAC.

31DND, Annual Report 1926 (Ottawa: King’s Printer, 1926), 11; DND, Annual Report 1927 (Ottawa: King’s Printer, 1927), 8.

32DND, Report 1928, 8; DND, Annual Report 1929 (Ottawa: King’s Printer, 1929), 7. 150 and every soldier above the rank of corporal was trained as an instructor. Brigadier Andrew

McNaughton, the Director of Military Training and Staff Duties since January 1, 1920, was charged with developing the Permanent Force into a highly trained cadre to perform its garrison, instructional, and staff duties. He resolved to fill every vacancy offered to Canadians at British military schools. Permanent Force officers attended courses at the Quetta and Camberley Staff

Colleges, Imperial Defense College, Senior Officers School, the Gunnery Staff School, the School of Military Engineering and the Armament Artificers Course – to list but a few. Earning a place at the British Army Staff College was the height of a professional Canadian Army officer’s training, and marked him for promotion, but it also brought with it a $1,500 price tag that many officers could ill afford. In all, 63 officers attended Staff College between 1919 and 1939 and 36 of them reached the rank of brigadier or higher. Of the fifteen divisional commanders during World War II from the prewar Permanent Force, eleven of them attended Staff College. Some officers were even attached to British units or to the War Office. When officers returned from overseas many were employed in the Canadian schools to pass on their experiences and newly acquired expertise. Finally, the

Permanent Force received lectures from visiting American and British officers.33 A Permanent Force officer was expected to undergo a continual learning process. This was a completely different ethos than the nineteenth century Permanent Force officers who, it will be recalled, rarely attempted to continue their education.

Continuing education also applied to NPAM officers. The Militia resumed the Militia Staff

Course (MSC), suspended during the First World War, in the winter of 1922. The course was the

33Bercuson, Maple Leaf Against the Axis, 7; Bercuson, Patricias, 137; Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 1: 89; Foster, Meeting of Generals, 74, 86; Granatstein, Generals, 15, 17; McNaughton, “Some Aspects,” 145; Pope, Soldiers and Politicians, 53; Stanley, Canada’s Soldiers, 342; Swettenham, McNaughton, 1: 187, 189. 151 most advanced course of instruction available to NPAM officers until the 1930s, when the Advanced

Militia Staff Course was introduced. The MSC was the equivalent of attending Staff College for a

Permanent Force officer. Indeed, since Staff College graduates often taught the MSC, it brought the best of the Permanent Force in contact with the brightest of the NPAM. As a result of the course, the Militia gained a large body of partially staff-trained officers. The course was divided into theoretical and practical portions. It covered such topics as strategy, map reading, and field sketching in the theoretical portion and organization, administration, tactics, and training for war in the practical portion conducted at a camp. Eighty officers attended full-time in the winter portion in

1922, with others attending periodic lectures. Only 45 officers attended the practical portion in the summer of 1923. The next term, 174 officers attended the theoretical course full-time. The numbers of attendees stayed at this level throughout the rest of the decade. Lieutenant Colonel H. F. G.

Letson of the Canadian Officers Training Corps, which operated out of Canada’s universities, judged the Militia Staff Course “has been the finest investment that has even been made with training funds.

The training which has been received, the stimulus to military study that has been encouraged, and the high qualifying standard which has been maintained, have done much to improve the professional status” of NPAM officers.34

The course’s Permanent Force instructors tried to intellectually challenge their charges. For example, an armored force was added to the tactical scenario upon which the various situations were based for the 1928 practical portion. McNaughton wanted the NPAM to consider certain “lessons

34DND, Report 1923, 6, 20; DND, Report 1924, 21; Militia Orders, No. 506, 1925; Lieutenant Colonel H. F. G. Letson, “The Influence of Mechanization and Motorization on the Organization and Training of the Non- Permanent Active Militia,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 11 (October 1933): 36; Granatstein, Generals, 24-25. The Advanced Militia Staff Course offered higher learning to senior officers in the NPAM. It was expected to build upon what the candidate learned in the MSC. 152 of the greater mobility which will be a characteristic of future wars.”35 Moreover, he reminded them to consider combined-arms solutions to the tactical problems. The General Staff encouraged officers to think critically and consider new developments with which most had no practical experience.

Militia officers took steps to assure their intellectual development by creating the Canadian

Defence Quarterly (CDQ). General MacBrien conceived of the need for a Canadian service journal to benefit the large number of Militia officers who had little or no access to British or American service journals. The goal of the CDQ, according to its editor in 1933, was to “try to reflect military thought, examine critically the direction of military development, and study in some degree the trend of world movements.”36 Not only was the journal to promote higher military education for Canada’s officers, but it was to be a forum to promote Canada’s armed forces and discuss their policy and problems. The first issue was published in 1923. No governmental funding was available at the time, so the Cavalry, Infantry and Artillery Associations provided the publishing funds by agreeing to buy a number of copies. The original editorial plan called for each association and a RCAF representative to produce twenty-five pages of material for the journal. The first two issues were each smaller than expected, and contained mostly reprinted articles. Each association was having difficulty in producing their consignment of material; in the first issue, the Infantry Association could only manage five pages. The journal’s future looked grim.37

35Brigadier General A. G. L. McNaughton, “Opening Address to the Militia Staff Course,” July 29, 1928, fol. 1928, McNaughton Papers, vol. 346, NAC.

36Editorial, Canadian Defence Quarterly 10 (January 1933): 135-36.

37Militia Order No. 338, June 13, 1923 and Militia Order No. 471, September 14, 1923, RG 24, vol. 1927, NAC; Editorial, Canadian Defence Quarterly 2 (April 1925): 8; Editorial, Canadian Defence Quarterly 10 (January 1932): 135-36; Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 1: 96; “Of the Line,” “The Problem of the Militia — A reply to Major Hugh M. Bell,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 3 (July 1926): 447. 153

At this point, Colonel H. H. Matthews stepped in to prevent the CDQ’s dissolution.

Matthews constituted a new committee, including a naval representative. Possessed of a prodigious energy, he assumed responsibility for conducting the journal-related correspondence, soliciting and editing copy, and keeping the accounts. His editor responsibilities were in addition to his regular duties. Matthews wanted as much original Canadian content as possible. It was not until the first issue of the journal’s second volume that the format stabilized. At the end of 1928, Matthews handed over his editorial and financial duties to Colonel . Stuart saw the journal as his chance to “promote thought within the Canadian defence forces.”38

From the second volume, the journal emphasized original material, although it still reprinted the odd article from American and British service journals. The editorials at the beginning of each issue contained a whirlwind review of international events, obituaries of important British and

Canadian military figures, notes on organizational changes, weapons details, and “developments of note.” The final two sections of the magazine were “Book and Magazine Reviews” and, added in the fifth volume’s third issue (April 1928), “Notes of Military Interest.” Much of the editorial comments on weapons and the organizational changes of various nations were moved to the Notes section. Focused as it was on army-related matters, the CDQ met the Militia’s needs more than those of the other services. At its height, the CDQ’s circulation run was 2,000 copies. The journal eventually received limited monies from the Department of National Defense. In 1934, the yearly grant amounted to $400, which was only seven percent of the annual cost of production. The balance of the cost, approximately $4,700, was recovered from subscribers and advertising revenue. The

38Colonel Kenneth Stuart to F. R. Scott, September 17, 1934, fol. 3-34 Canadian Defence Quarterly, McNaughton Papers, vol. 6, NAC; Editorial, 137-38; Granatstein, Generals, 220-221. 154 journal could be considered an unofficial but important organ of the General Staff. CDQ articles often exhorted young officers to improve themselves by independent study and reading.39 The impact of the CDQ is impossible to judge, but it is clear that it provided an outlet for those officers concerned enough with their profession in order to think beyond the limited resources Canada provided.

Numerous articles appeared during the MacBrien-Thacker period seeking to improve the way the Militia functioned. Virtually every issue contained articles about past Canadian battles or campaigns. There were also pieces on the training of NCOs in the Permanent Force during peacetime, appeals for more money for rural militia units to conduct central training camps, opinions on the proper design and function of the NPAM, commentary on the past, present, and future of machine guns – to list but a few articles. The CDQ reprinted Colonel General Hans von Seeckt’s examination of the state of armies in several nations. This article by the head of the Germany Army provided an insight into a past and future enemy. Other articles discussed the possibilities of air power.40 The CDQ’s content reveals a Militia that was trying to understand itself, master new military trends and methods, and learn how to organize and train efficiently. More importantly, as will be discussed in a later chapter, the CDQ was important for the development of critical thinking on mechanization.

39Stuart to Scott, September 17, 1934, NAC; Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 1: 94, 97.

40Major Hugh M. Bell, “The Problem of the Militia. Could not Greater Results be Obtained for Money Expended?” Canadian Defence Quarterly 3 (April 1926): 276-77; Wing Commander E. L. Gossage, “Air Co- Operation with the Army,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 5 (January 1928): 174-90; “Of the Line,” “The Problem of the Militia: Further Remarks concerning Major Bell’s Proposal,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 6 (January 1927): 235-36; Colonel General Hans von Seeckt, “The Armies of To-day,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 6 (January 1929): 248-55; Staff Sergeant (O.R.C.) J. W. A. Wallace, “Training of N.C.O’s. of the Permanent Active Militia in Peace Time,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 3 (July 1926): 474-76; Lieutenant Colonel W. K. Walker, “Machine Guns. The Past: The Present: The Future,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 3 (January 1926): 190-98. 155

II

Throughout the 1920s, reduced training budgets meant that NPAM units, their Permanent

Force instructors, and military district commanders struggled to find the ways and means to drill.

Some NPAM units were more successful than others, primarily due to the perseverance and energy of their officers and soldiers. The diversity of NPAM regiments and companies across Canada is reflected in the variety of training efforts. NPAM units confronted different challenges depending on their location, but none was completely free of factors that hampered their training.

NPAM officers often could not concentrate on the vital matters of ensuring a unit’s survival and its drill. They were burdened by administrative duties that occupied much of their free time, including an often excessive amount of paperwork. Some regiments had the foresight to use their pooled regimental funds to employ a full-time clerk to attend to much of this minutiae.41

Rural units faced many challenges. Many rural units’ poor organization and low level of efficiency in the early 1920s forced them to limit training to officers and NCOs at camp, with little to no headquarters training. Many rural units did not have a proper facility in which conduct training.

In Aneroid, Saskatchewan, Major Gordon Howard leased a lumber company’s storage sheds for his battery. He then arranged for them to be retrofitted into a suitable armory.42

The Army Service Corps experienced problems similar to the other branches. M. V.

McQueen of the NPAM’s 8th Divisional Train reported that his unit had only harness during nearly the entire interwar period. They were not issued horses, wagons, or even mechanical transport after

41Queen-Hughes, Whatever Men Dare, 3; Roy, Seaforth Highlanders, 14.

42Camp Report - Levis Camp July 4th - July 16th , 1921, July 16, 1921, fol. HQ-33-16-137, RG 24, vol. 6284, NAC; Gordon S. Howard, The Memoires of a Citizen Soldier 1914-1945 (N.P.: Regina, 1970), 40. 156

1926. Pooled pay went towards training and purchasing equipment. McQueen obtained two written- off vans from the Post Office and a from a local company, while purchasing two motorcycles with pooled funds. The 8th Divisional Train’s motorcyclists trained on a roller treadmill device built from steel and timber. The unit also used the regimental fund to purchase comforts for the NCOs’ and other ranks’ common quarters. Another RCASC officer paid about $700 a year out of his own pocket to keep his unit of 30 men going. This included renting horses to take his men riding and paying his men’s public transport fares during the Depression to get them to attend parades.43

Cavalry regiments had their own special difficulties. They conducted “school camps” for their training, often foregoing drill at local headquarters, because much of their practical training with horses simply could not be done at the latter. Even the limited amount of time given to drill was less than reported. Lieutenant Colonel R. F. Stockwell of the 11th Hussars reported that his unit’s nine days of authorized training in 1921 turned out to be only six days. One day was spent on the march- in, a second on the march-out, and no training occurred on a Sunday. He also complained that of his unit’s 28 officers and 318 other ranks, he was only allowed to train 15 officer and 182 other ranks on 161 horses. That his regiment enjoyed such a healthy size so soon after the First World War is a credit to Stockwell, his officers, and the enthusiasm of their soldiers. Most men joined a cavalry regiment for the excitement of mounted work and lost interest when they could not train.44

The reduced training budgets in the early 1920s obviously impacted negatively on drill. One example of the effect can be seen with the 15th Canadian Light Horse. The regiment brought 100

43Warren, Wait for the Waggon, 129-30, 141-42.

44Lieutenant Colonel R. F. Stockwell, Camp Report, 11th Hussars, June 25, 1921, fol. HQ-33-40-9, RG 24, vol. 362, NAC; Graves, Century of Service, 181; Marteinson, Governor-General’s Horse Guards, 130; Roy, Sinews of Steel, 87. 157 officers and men to Alberta’s Camp Sarcee in 1921, but reductions by 1924 meant only 24 could attend the camp that year. Many regiments, even those with comparatively strong enlistments, went without camp training until 1927 or 1928. There was only one camp in Alberta attended by all arms between 1919 and 1936, which was in 1927.45

Given the choice, DOCs and unit commanders preferred training at camp rather than at local headquarters. At camp, NPAM units received the intensive training they could not receive at local headquarters for an hour or two a week. Camp training was quite expensive, with approximately 20 percent of the training vote during the 1920s going to railway companies for transportation costs.

As a result, some DOCs were unable to organize camp training. Unit commanders also tried to save part of their training allotment by arranging camps at closer locations than the DOCs scheduled.

Regiments could be quite inventive in how to save funds. The North Shore Regiment, for example, economized on food expenses by having fishermen from the regiment tasked to fish each day. For rural battalions, a central camp may have been the only chance for all their companies to train together the entire year. Rural outfits needed longer training periods than city units given their often spread out localization and lesser numbers. For at least one DOC, two or three days under canvas was sufficient for city units. But even camp training was no solution when units came to camp unprepared to accomplish more than elementary subjects as a result of little or no local headquarters drill. There was also the opposite problem, NPAM battalions faced with the difficulty of making

45Boss, Stormont, Dundas and Glengarry Highlanders, 140; Cunniffe, Scarlet, Riflegreen and Khaki, 26; Graves, Century of Service, 180-81. All the Edmonton and Calgary NPAM units, and the South Alberta Regiment from Medicine Hat, gathered at Sarcee in 1927. Two squadrons of Lord Strathcona’s Horse and two companies of the PPPCLI were also present. Many NPAM units only attended on the weekends. 158 drill interesting to men who were already experienced at marksmanship and fieldcraft.46 In order for camp training to be useful and effective, officers and soldiers had to be willing to put in the effort before and during camp.

Camp training could measurably improve the quality of tactical training that units received.

The exercises moved beyond the elementary nature available at local headquarters and they were conducted more realistically. A central camp with several units mitigated against the skeleton formations to which most units were subject, particularly when composite battalions or brigades were formed. Other DOCs used camp training to demonstrate advanced subjects, including cooperation exercises with the RCAF.47

Finally, brigade and central camps provided an opportunity to create camaraderie between regiments, enhancing the Militia’s esprit de corps. Vocal and musical competitions at night became

46Colonel Commandant, DOC Military District No.7, to Chief of General Staff, January 4, 1923, fol. HQ- 33-1-248-3-vol.1, RG 24, vol. 322, NAC; Colonel D. M. Ormond, DOC Military District No.12, to Deputy Minister, March 19, 1923, fol. HQ-33-1-248-3-vol.5, RG 24, vol. 324, NAC; Major General J. H. Elmsley, DOC Military District No.3, to Deputy Minister, March 22, 1923, fol. HQ-33-1-248-3-vol.2, RG 24, vol. 323, NAC; Captain A. C. Campbell to Camp Commandant, Pictou Camp, July 20, 1923, fol. HQ-33-75-2, RG 24, vol. 6284, NAC; Colonel Ormond to Deputy Minister, February 15, 1924, NAC; Colonel A. H. Bell, DOC Military District No.13, to Deputy Minister, April 1, 1924, fol. HQ-33-1-249-1-vol.1, RG 24, vol. 326, NAC; Bird, North Shore, 94; G. W. L. Nicholson, The Gunners of Canada: The History of the Royal Regiment of Canadian Artillery, vol. 2, 1919-1967 (Toronto: McClelland and Stewart, 1967), 26.

47Colonel Commandant to Chief of General Staff, January 4, 1923, NAC; Ormond to Chief of General Staff, January 11, 1923, fol. Hq-3—1-248-3-vol.1, RG 24, vol. 322, NAC; Major General H. A. Panet, DOC Military District No.2, to Deputy Minister, June 6, 1923 and Reply, June 6, 1923, fol. HQ-33-1-248-43, NAC, RG 24, vol. 325; Brigadier General W. Gibsone, “Camp Commandant’s Report, Aldershot Camp,” November 9, 1928, fol. HQ-33-11-184, RG 24, vol. 6284, NAC; Graves, Century of Service, 181. Major General H. A. Panet requested two planes and appropriate personnel for a camp at Niagara-on-the-Lake in 1923 to demonstrate the benefits of cooperating with RCAF in the field. His request was denied, ostensibly because the planes and personnel were not available on the dates specified. The Militia conducted combined operation exercises with the RCAF starting in 1924, reported in the Militia’s annual reports. As the years went on the description of the exercises in those reports became less and less detailed. 159 memorable events for many soldiers, as did Saturday afternoon sports competitions. Variety shows of skits and plays could even attract the local populace.48

Camp training, when it was deemed successful by NPAM personnel, could raise a unit’s esprit de corps and create enthusiasm among the officers and men to build up their ranks and complete their training. Conversely, the cancellation of camp training could severely hurt units, even causing them to cease training altogether. Two artillery batteries in Ontario lost nearly all their soldiers when camp training was called off in 1924.49

Not only did members of the NPAM funnel their pay to their respective regiments, but they often performed extra work without pay before a parade, summer camp, or military tournament.

Several units even managed to arrange their own summer camp training at no expense to the public during this period. Other units took greater numbers to camp than authorized or they spent more days training. These extras were paid for out of regimental funds. Another form of unpaid work was

“tactical exercises without troops,” which battalions held for the intellectual benefit of their officers.

Besides training at summer camp, officers, NCOs, and specialists might also attend courses in addition to or instead of camp, often at their own expense.50 Despite these demonstrations of perseverance and commitment, the NPAM – indeed the whole Militia – was an unhealthy organization that lacked funds, political support, and personnel.

48Bird, North Shore, 95; Mitchell, RCHA, 69.

49Elmsley to Deputy Minister, , 1924, NAC; Colonel Stevenson, Camp Commandant’s Report, August 16, 1926, fol. HQ-33-96-169, RG 24, vol. 6284, NAC.

50Colonel W. B. M. King, DOC Military District No.1, to Deputy Minister, May 19, 1923, fol. HQ-33-1- 248-3, RG 24, vol. 322, NAC; Lieutenant Colonel D. W. B. Spry, DOC Military District No.13, to Deputy Minister, March 19, 1923, fol. HQ-33-1-248-3-vol.4, RG 24, vol. 323, NAC; Barnard, Queen’s Own Rifles of Canada, 129; Howard, Memoires of a Citizen Soldier, 46; Roy, For Most Conspicuous Bravery, 98. 160

The small size of the Permanent Force’s instructional cadre affected the NPAM’s camp training. Permanent Force officers and NCOs were quite busy during the training season and it was common for them to teach subjects beyond their experience and rank. In 1924, one regular officer was expected to act as an instructor for four NPAM infantry regiments at separate local camps in the

Maritimes. Central camps that massed several NPAM units reduced the burden on the Permanent

Force. One and four might be assigned to teach two or three NPAM battalions at the same time. Another problem was the language barrier. Instructors at camps in Quebec who did not speak French found it difficult to instruct their charges. Permanent Force demonstration platoons, when they could be provided, helped NPAM personnel gain a sense of their role in battle.

The experience was further enhanced when the Permanent Force and NPAM conducted tactical exercises together. Unfortunately, strike duty during the early 1920s often pulled away the instructors. Despite all the difficulties, some instructors taught the NPAM the work of J. F. C. Fuller and other theorists, in addition to modern platoon and company tactics.51 There can be no doubt that the Permanent Force instructors strove to teach the NPAM as best they could, but only so much was possible under the conditions they faced.

The Permanent Force’s camp problems mirrored the NPAM’s. Major C. V. Stockwell of the

Royal Canadian Artillery reported that annual training in 1925 was compromised because too few

51Colonel J. P. Landry, Report on Levis Camp, July 19, 1923, fol. HQ-33-16-146, RG 24, vol. 6284, NAC; Major General H. D. B. Ketchen, DOC Military District No.10, Report of Cavalry Camp, NPAM, , 1923, August 1, 1923, fol. HQ-33-96-156, RG 24, vol. 6284, NAC; Major General J. H. Elmsley, DOC Military District No.3, to Deputy Minister, May 21, 1924, fol. HQ-33-1-249-2-vol.2, RG 24, vol. 328, NAC; Lieutenant Colonel H. C. Sparling to Deputy Minister, May 23, 1924, fol. HQ-33-1-249-1-vol.2, RG 24, vol. 326, NAC; Brigadier General A. G. L. McNaugton to DOC Military District No.5, July 30, 1924 and Major General H. C. Thacker, DOC Military District No.6, to Deputy Minister, August 6, 1924, fol. HQ-33-1-249-1-vol.2, RG 24, vol. 326, NAC; Colonel C. J. Armstrong, Training Report – Camp School of Instruction, Montreal South, August 8, 1924, fol. HQ-33-63-9, RG 24, vol. 6284, NAC;Stevens, Royal Canadian Regiment, 2: 5. 161 officers and trained men were able to attend to the camp and the duration of six days was too short to obtain “any real results.” The Camp School of Infantry in 1926 was similarly frustrated as only three officers and one NCO attended, compared to the eight officers and ten NCOs that were expected. The Permanent Force batteries in Kingston had a problem with “snowbirds” in the 1920s.

“Snowbirds” were crewmen from the ships that wintered in the city. These men joined the regulars for winter employment but disappeared when the ships left harbor in May. This left the batteries short-handed just as they were preparing for the NPAM’s camp training.52

The Permanent Force held its first central camps since before the First World War late in

August 1927, one each for the infantry and cavalry regiments in Western and Eastern Canada. Both camps had only skeleton formations, but the annual report the next year still reported that “many valuable lessons were learned.” Sarcee’s camp commandant, Lieutenant Colonel C. E. Connolly, reported that the effect of combined training “can hardly be over-estimated.” A mixed force practiced advance, flank, and rear guard duties, in addition to attack and defense maneuvers. Night operations and RCAF cooperation exercises were also on the syllabus.53 The Permanent Force getting the opportunity or time to train – either as regiments or collectively – during the interwar years was a constant problem. It limited their ability to properly instruct the NPAM beyond

52Report on Annual Training (Mobile) Artillery, Sarcee Camp, Alberta, August 11, 1925, fol. HQ-3-24- 175, RG 24, vol. 360, NAC; Report on Camp School of Infantry, Sarcee Camp, June 24, 1926, fol. HQ-33-24-178, RG 24, vol. 360, NAC; Mitchell, RCHA, 61. Related to the snowbirds was a problem the NPAM began to experience in the Great Depression. Soldiers, upon returning from summer camp and after they were paid, would disappear. Many were part of the floating population that drifted from center to center, looking for work. The Edmonton Fusiliers attempted to solve this dilemma by only paying men for training after they had attended 25 unpaid evening parades. Graves, Century of Service, 185, 187.

53Lieutenant Colonel C. E. Connolly, “Camp Commandant’s Report, Sarcee Camp, 1927,” September 12, 1927, fol. HQ-33-24-183, RG 24, vol. 360, NAC; DND, Report 1928, 8. 162 individual skills and small unit tactics. The small numbers of regulars hindered the training’s realism and effectiveness at these camps.

A conference of DOCs in April 1926 highlighted the Militia’s deficiencies. The senior officers noted that the Permanent Force had lost the majority of its war-trained officers and NCOs.

Moreover, its new recruits were not getting the education they needed to function as instructors; many still needed to complete their own training. Junior officers were too busy with their duties to study for their theoretical and practical examinations. This situation was having an increasingly adverse effect on the NPAM. NPAM commanders complained that their strengths were falling below a workable minimum. They worried that without a substantial enlistment increase, unit command and administration would be adversely affected. In addition, any potential mobilization would be hindered by large numbers of untrained men. Defense Minister Macdonald recognized the

Militia’s difficulties, but maintained that he could do nothing himself. He asserted, as he had throughout his ministerial tenure, that the only way to increase the training appropriation was to educate the public and members of Parliament on its necessity.54

Pleas for additional resources in the Militia’s annual reports, in the CDQ, and at public forums had accomplished little to educate the public and the government. How could the Militia when their own minister seemed to regard them as an annoyance and beneath his genuine efforts to improve? A crisis point was fast approaching when J. L. Ralston replaced Macdonald. Ralston’s efforts secured higher budgets which allowed expanded training.

54Conference of District Officers Commanding at National Defence Headquarters, April 8, 1926, fol. 9879- 2-vol.2, RG 24, vol. 151, NAC; Proceedings of Conference of District Officers Commanding, Ottawa, April 8-10 1926, fol. 9879-2-vol.3, Ibid. 163

The 1927 NPAM training camps brought mixed results, with the poor results a direct result of the lack of training in the preceding years. The report for the camp at Cobourg was uncomplimentary: “It was found that many of the officers were almost hopeless in understanding and acting on orders. . . . Further, there was a marked lack of appreciation by senior Officers of their responsibility to transmit orders to their subordinates.”55 In Alberta, one camp commandant reported that the two infantry battalions in camp displayed different qualities. Whereas one battalion demonstrated a “perceptible lack of supervision and control,” the other’s officers exhibited

“intelligent supervision and interest.”56 Six NPAM infantry battalions held a central camp at

Connaught Ranges in 1927, but only two stayed for more than three days. All the battalions brought a minimum of 133 of all ranks, making this a sizeable gathering at times and a reflection of the increased numbers that were allowed to go to camp because of Ralston. Lieutenant Colonel R. J.

Gill, the commanding officer of the Rifles, reported that his regiment’s three days at

Connaught allowed it to see what other regiments were doing and participate in friendly competition against other battalions. The experience was “concentrated and somewhat strenuous,” he reported,

“yet on the whole most interesting and enjoyable.”57

Ralston secured enough funds for the Permanent Force to conduct combined training in 1928 and 1929. The 1928 camp reflected that the regulars were inadequate at giving concise and direct

55Colonel A. E. Bywater, “Report, Cobourg Camp 1927,” September 1, 1927, fol. HQ-33-141-7, RG 24, vol. 6285, NAC.

56Lieutenant Colonel T. C. Sims, “Report, North Cooking Lake Camp,” October 24, 1927, fol. HQ-33-171- 5, RG 24, vol. 6285, NAC. The poor battalion had three officers who were the exception to its below-standard showing.

57Colonel F. W. Hill, “Report of Commandant – Infantry Camp, Connaught Ranges, Ottawa, Annual Training 1927-28,” September 20, 1927, fol. HQ-33-140-7, RG 24, vol. 5893, NAC; Lieutenant Colonel R. J. Gill to Headquarters, Military District No.3, September 8, 1927, Ibid. 164 orders, communication between units, and the coordination of arms. A British officer observing the maneuvers judged that the officers were keen but that the exercises were simply beyond their limited experience and the limited numbers under their command. For 1929, the General Staff chose to focus on individual, rather than collective, training at the Permanent Force’s central camps. Two camps were held, one at Petawawa and the other at Sarcee. These camps brought together the regular infantry and cavalry regiments with the army service corps.58

After years of little training, or none in some cases, the rust on many NPAM units was showing. Officers were key to maintaining unit efficiency. The large camps of the late 1920s posed the same problem for the Permanent Force, providing an adequate number of instructors for the

NPAM to profit from their camp experience. The solution was for the NPAM officers to be qualified to teach various subjects, taking the pressure off the Permanent Force. Having proficient officers, even at camp administration, would have enhanced the benefits of camp training for the units there.

The MacBrien-Thacker period ended in December 1928 with units enjoying the recent resurgence in their training budget, even if it was taking time for them to regain their efficiency. Ralston was still minister for the next two training budgets, but General McNaughton took over as CGS at the beginning of 1929.

III

The MacBrien years might be referred to as “The Nadir” of the interwar period, if it were not for the Great Depression that followed in the 1930s and led to even further retrenchment in the

58DND, Annual Report 1930 (Ottawa: King’s Printer, 1930), 6-7; Harris, Canadian Brass, 197. 165

Department of National Defense.59 The officers and men of many NPAM units felt compelled to pool their training pay in order to keep the regiment going. The esprit de corps that informed their decision could also aid them in attracting the potential recruits that seemed so few and far between.

The effectiveness of recruiting and marketing activities is debatable. Any progress probably depended on the efforts of each unit to make service in the NPAM appear appealing. While some battalions were social desirable to join, others, mostly in rural areas, offered little for their members beyond a social experience or hobby (if that). Those units that had longstanding with a community were more likely to foster local support and the interest of philanthropic patrons. Without Ottawa’s financial support, and the training and new equipment that it brought, interest in the Militia declined.

Cadet training certainly increased in this period, but the total numbers of NPAM trained varied little.

In 1924-25, the NPAM’s strength was 50,492, and it only rose to 52,248 in 1928-29. The numbers actually trained, however, were less than those figures.60 The increased training during Ralston’s early tenure as defense minister was needed, but its effect was indeterminate given the lack of training earlier in the decade and the impact the Great Depression would have on training budgets.

Despite the Militia’s financial woes, many officers were able to keep their minds on the task at hand. The units that fared the best in the interwar period did so because the dedication of the officers and soldiers would not allow the unit to slide into decline. With the creation of the CDQ, dedicated members of the Militia who thought critically about soldiering had an outlet for their ideas, writings, and theories. The CDQ became a first-rate journal in this period after an awkward

59In a history of Military District No.11, an unidentified historian wrote: “Perhaps, in his record of the District, the historian, writing fifty years hence, will be impelled to heed his chapter on the 1919-1929 period with some such caption as ‘The Nadir.’” “Notes on History of M D #11,” n.d., fol. 48, RG 24, vol. 1884, NAC.

60DND, Annual Report 1931 (Ottawa: King’s Printer, 1931), 33. 166 beginning, dedicating itself to fostering a rising spirit of professionalism in the Canadian officer corps. 167

CHAPTER SEVEN:

THE GREAT DEPRESSION AND THE MILITIA:

THE McNAUGHTON YEARS, 1929-1935

When Major General Andrew McNaughton’s tenure as Chief of the General Staff began in

January 1929, it appeared that the Canadian military was experiencing a revival. The country had improved economically and the public’s attitude toward the military was less antagonistic. The

Minister of National Defense, J. L. Ralston, made considerable efforts to obtain increased military budgets for three concurrent years. Unfortunately, this bump in prosperity did not last. The Great

Depression hit Canada’s economy hard. The Liberal government fell in 1930 to R. B. Bennett’s

Conservatives. The Conservatives’ previous support of the military may have caused some in the

Militia to rejoice at this turn of affairs, but the Depression dashed their hopes. Bennett was more sympathetic to the military than his Liberal predecessor, but this did not translate into greater support.1 The new government was not magnanimous to the Militia, and the latter’s budgets, pay rates, and troop strength suffered. The military was an obvious target for a government intent on reducing its costs, as it was in the years initially following the First World War. As in the early

1920s, many units resorted to uncommon measures to retain their efficiency. Anti-military feelings resurfaced throughout Canada, partially focused on the private manufacture of arms. As part of planning a new mobilization plan for an expeditionary force, McNaughton began the process to reorganize the Militia again. McNaughton retired as CGS on June 30, 1935.

1Bennett was the honorary colonel of the Calgary Highlanders, the first one the regiment had, beginning in 1921. Farran, Calgary Highlanders, 11. 168

I

Ralston hand-picked McNaughton to be Chief of the General Staff, favoring him over the other candidate, Major General E. C. Ashton. McNaughton had a reputation as an effective commander and able administrator, both for his service in the First World War and with the General

Staff after that conflict. After the war, McNaughton served on the Otter Committee and joined the

General Staff in 1921 as Director of Military Training. In 1923, he added Deputy Chief of Staff to his duties.2 McNaughton, however, lacked command experience. Nevertheless, Ralston felt

McNaughton was better qualified for the position based on his main criteria of the ability to work in a committee to advise on a new military policy and reorganize the Militia along more realistic lines than fifteen divisions. From data Ralston had, he believed that Canada could support no more than eight divisions. Ralston considered the Militia’s organization “chaotic” as it was based on the

Otter Committee’s decisions, which were not approved or confirmed by the government. The minister asserted that the existing units did not constitute the force envisioned by the committee nor did these units provide a proper balance in combat arms and ancillary services. Ralston suggested a reexamination of the Militia’s purposes and its appropriate strength level, studying possible military requirements and what the country could afford for training, material procurement, and the costs of additional training facilities and barracks. Knowing that military activity was still relatively unpopular, Ralston wanted to be able to assure the public that it was getting the best value for its money.3 McNaughton’s previous experience with the Otter Committee nearly guaranteed him the

2Granatstein, Generals, 56-57.

3Memorandum, n.d., fol. “Chief of the General Staff Appointment of 1928,” J. L. Ralston Papers, MG 27 III B11, vol. 5, NAC; J. L. Ralston to Major General Andrew McNaughton, November 18, 1928, fol. “Chief of the General Staff Appointment of 1928,” Ralston Papers, vol. 5, NAC. 169

CGS position, given Ralston’s plans for the Militia. McNaughton’s abilities, however, could do little to mitigate the financial and political crises that marred his term of office.

Soon after McNaughton became CGS, Parliament discussed the recently signed Kellogg-

Briand Pact. Discussed earlier (see Chapter Five), there are two important points about the pact to note here. During the debate, a fickle R. B. Bennett seemed to waver between favoring the military and calling for its dissolution. Unfortunately for the Militia, this vacillating foreshadowed Bennett’s future behavior as prime minister.4 The Kellogg-Briand Pact debate also opened up the question of armaments manufacture. Many MPs spoke about the need to destroy current arms or ending the manufacture of such weapons. This trend would resurface in 1931.

The Militia’s appropriations during the McNaughton era become the focus of members of

Parliament venting their hostility, and seemingly the public’s, at the military. MP attested: “The amount of armament we have is after all useless if we really intend to go out and use it in aggression or even in defence. Our geographical situation leaves us in an excellent position.

We have no one who could be regarded as an enemy. . . . It is nonsense to spend $20,000,000 in order to keep up what is really only a parade stunt.”5 Here Macphail hit on a key point: Why spend money on something that is not sufficient to do what it is required to do? This argument could have been adopted by the Militia’s supporters too, arguing that unless it was given more money to perform its duties then it should be eliminated.

Ralston explained to his fellow MPs that the amount of money spent on the Militia in 1929 was actually less than before the Great War, given the reduced value of the Canadian dollar.

4Canada, House of Commons Debates (February 19, 1929), 243-47.

5Ibid. (June 4, 1929), 3213-14. 170

Furthermore, money ostensibly allocated to the RCAF was diverted to civil aviation and government operations.6 As was common during the interwar period, Ralston countered calls for disarmament with figures on Canada’s per capita defense spending. He asserted that Canada should be given credit for its level of disarmament, rather than chastised for being overly armed. Ralston definitively stated that Canada needed a military for self-defense.7 These arguments did not sway his opponents, just as their arguments could not sway him. The sheer futility of the anti-military crusade paralleled the Militia’s earlier attempts to obtain better funding. Even with Ralston, the Militia only received slightly higher budgets.

The Militia’s budget in 1929-30 was $11,163,170. The addition of $115,937 over the previous year went mainly to general stores. Even with the recent increases, the General Staff warned that the Militia’s equipment was increasingly worn out, particularly expensive technical items. It also warned that spare stocks of arms were depleted by ordinary wear, especially field artillery. In addition, artillery ammunition stocks had dipped below the minimum required and anti- aircraft equipment was outdated.8

The 1930 Conservative election victory swept R. B. Bennett into office on a fiscally- conservative platform. Bennett chose D. M. Sutherland for National Defense, who had been a member of the NPAM since 1897. McNaughton soon forged a strong but personal relationship with

Bennett. He was able to bypass Sutherland, the deputy minister, and the other service chiefs to take

6Both the RCAF and Royal Canadian Signals performed civilian operations, primarily in . This provided them with training opportunities they would not have otherwise had. The RCAF was used to fight forest fires, aerial survey, and transport mail. Swettenham, McNaughton, 1: 225

7Canada, House of Commons Debates (June 4, 1929), 3221-24.

8DND, Report 1929, 31; DND, Report 1930, 32; DND, Annual Report 1934 (Ottawa: King’s Printer, 1934), 12. 171 his concerns directly to the prime minister. Bennett’s foreign policy was similar to King’s. Bennett did not feel pressured to change his foreign policy outlook by the growing isolationist sentiment in

Quebec or by his own Department of External Affairs. An independent thinker, Bennett rarely consulted his ministers on major policies and their opinions carried little weight with him. Bennett took pains to distance himself from the appearance of subservience to Britain on all levels. When he attended a meeting of the Committee of Imperial Defense in 1930, he insisted his name be left out of the minutes. He never attended another meeting and he resisted all British requests for greater military efforts from Canada. Like King, Bennett avoided outward appearances of contributing to imperial defense but changed nothing about the British influence on the Militia. By 1934, Whitehall considered Canada the most uncooperative Dominion on foreign policy and defense. In contrast,

Australia and New Zealand exhibited ardent support for the mother country. Britons wondered if

Canada would aid them in a war.9

Like most , Canada’s economy suffered during the Great Depression. In 1930, the government posted an $83.9 million deficit. There were subsequent deficits through to the end of the 1930s. Government spending decreased inexorably throughout McNaughton’s tenure until his last year. One of Canada’s main exports, automobiles, provides an example of how the Depression affected the Dominion’s economy. In 1929, Canadian factories produced 188,721 cars. This number dropped to 115,535 in 1930, 64,629 in 1931, 48,332 in 1932, and, finally, 47,510 by 1933.

9Dickson, Thoroughly Canadian General, 87; Norman Hillmer, “Defence and Ideology: The Anglo- Canadian military ‘alliance’ in the 1930s,” International Journal 33 (Summer 1978): 591-97; McInnis, Canada, 440; Morrison, Voice of Defence, 8; Neatby, Politics of Chaos, 52; Thompson et al, Canada 1922-1939, 304-8, 314. 172

Economic nationalism around the world took its toll on the Canadian economy, which depended upon demands for its staple exports.10

With adverse public opinion surrounding the military and budgets dropping into serious deficits, Ottawa again made defense a low priority. Despite the onset of the Depression, the Militia’s

1930-31 budget shrank only slightly to $11,026,363. That year’s limited training vote allowed for just 2,000 militiamen to attend camp. The next year, the Militia’s appropriation dropped to

$9,700,464. The low point arrived in 1932-33, when the budget was $8,178,880. The budgets for the rest of the Bennett government’s term were as follows: $8,773,545 for 1933-34, $8,888,030 for

1934-35 and $10,141,230 for 1935-36. General Pope commented in his memoirs that such strained circumstances left the General Staff unable to “do little more than keep the administrative machine slowly ticking over. . . . [It was] constrained to deal only with the qualification for rank, the appointment and promotion of officers, and, to some degree, the maintenance of military properties.

Morale was at a low ebb and the public cared not at all.”11

Many in the public began to decry the private production of arms, mimicking the rhetoric about “merchants of death” appearing in the United States. Lieutenant Colonel George Drew’s 1931 article, “Salesmen of Death,” in Maclean’s magazine exemplified this trend. Drew described how arms merchants fomented discord at various peace conferences over the years in order to increase weapons sales. Drew worried that arms makers might sabotage the upcoming 1932 Disarmament

Conference in Geneva to protect their profits. To Drew, eliminating profits from arms manufacturing

10Bothwell et al, Canada 1900-1945, 223, 251; McInnis, Canada, 440-42; Thompson et al, Canada 1922- 1939, 338, 345.

11DND, Report 1934, 12; DND, Annual Report 1939 (Ottawa: King’s Printer, 1939), 12; Pope, Soldiers and Generals, 90; C. P. Stacey, “Canadian Defence Policy,” Canadian Journal of Economics and Political Science, 4 (November 1938): 492. 173 removed a crucial cause of war. He urged Canadians to let their feeling on disarmament be known before Canada’s delegation departed for Geneva. Drew was not arguing against the military, but advocating a national arms industry: “Some disciplined force, properly armed, will always be necessary to maintain law and order, but the arming of such a force can be efficiently carried out by government factories supplying their actual requirements.”12 Drew was swatting at a straw man.

Canada had no private arms industry, nor much of a national one, so encouraging it was impossible even if there had been the money or the will to do so. The Dominion Arsenals’ limited output consisted mainly of rifle cartridges. Nevertheless, Canadians followed Drew’s advice and pressed the government on disarmament. Sir George Perley, Canada’s representative at Geneva, reported he had received many letters and telegrams from individuals and organizations urging him to press for the abolition or control of private arms manufacturers.13

In 1933, several additional polemics against private arms manufacturers appeared in

Maclean’s, including two more from Drew. In “Enemies of Peace,” Drew accused French and

British industrialists attempting to influence their governments to purchase munitions or allow foreign purchases. In “Hell’s General Staff” Drew charged arms manufacturers with attempting to

“divert the rising tide of public opinion” against nationalizing or suppressing them at the disarmament conference. He depicted their “sinister activity,” such as bribing government officials and spreading false rumors and inaccurate reports. Striking a note similar to Drew’s, A. Fenner

12Lieutenant Colonel George A. Drew, “Salesman of Death: The Truth About War Makers,” Maclean’s, August 1, 1931, 3-4, 30, 32, 34.

13Prime Minister Bennett responded to Perley that, while there were no private arms firms in Canada, he would not commit Canada to any form of control over them without seeing the specific plan first. Again, this is an attitude similar to King’s toward the League of Nations. Alex I. Inglis, ed., Documents on Canadian External Relations, vol. 5, 1931-1935 (Ottawa: Information Canada, 1973), 467-68; Ronald G. Haycock, “The Clash of Imperatives: Canadian Munitions Development in the Interwar Years, 1919-1939,” in Horn, Forging a Nation, 248. 174

Brockway’s “Munitions Morality” cited numerous examples of malfeasance and corruption by munitions companies, representing an “international conspiracy” to promote war, both before and after the Great War.14

The agitation against private arms manufacturers swayed the public. Successive governments refused to encourage a private munitions industry in Canada. Until the late 1930s, when the General

Staff pressed the government for self-sufficiency in weapons development it was assumed this would be through a government-owned plant such as the Dominion Arsenal.15

The Depression influenced the government to order a 10 percent pay cut for all civil servants in May 1932, including Permanent Force officers and men, as a cost-saving measure. The strength of the Permanent Force fluctuated little between 3,686 of all ranks in 1929 and 3,703 in 1932. The pay cut contributed to a drop to 3,570 officers and men in 1933. The PPCLI, for example, released

20 men in 1933 because it had no money to pay them. Faced with National Defense having to cut its 1933 budget to $14 million, a reduction of nearly $4 million from the previous year, McNaughton tried to eliminate the RCN. Commodore Hose argued the RCN was still needed to protect Canada’s trade and preserve its neutrality if the United States and Japan warred on each other. In the end, the

RCN’s budget shrank nearly a million dollars to $2,167,328. The RCAF’s budget dropped

14Lieutenant Colonel George A. Drew, “Enemies of Peace,” Maclean’s, January 1, 1933, 13, 32-33; Lieutenant Colonel George A. Drew, “Hell’s General Staff,” Maclean’s, June 15, 1933, 9, 26, 30, 33, 49; A. Fenner Brockway, “Munitions Morality,” Maclean’s, August 15, 1933, 9, 31-33. On the other side of the coin, A. B. Conway’s “The War Problem” attempted to refute disarmament arguments. The Maclean’s editor prefaced the article with a note supporting Drew. Conway contended that many of Drew’s claims lacked evidence, and rested merely on public opinion and hearsay. He argued that nationalization was an expensive process and that many war industries had legitimate civil uses, such as aviation and chemicals. Finally, Conway argued that private manufacturing was a minor factor in the complex problem of disarmament; states and their policies presented more of a threat to peace. A. B. Conway, “The War Problem,” Maclean’s, September 15, 1933, 14, 30-31.

15Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 1: 115-16. 175 approximately $2,500,000 to a mere $1,731,220 as its civilian operations were stripped away.16 The

Militia benefitted in its association with Bennett, suffering a less severe budget cut than the other services.

Some of the comments made during the debate over the pay cuts illustrated the low regard into which the Canadian military had fallen. As economic conditions worsened, the military’s opponents in Parliament multiplied. MPs J. S. Woodsworth and Macphail argued that the military did not earn the salaries they received, even with the pay cut. Other MPs accused soldiers of looking

“picturesque” but providing no real benefit and of taking holidays at the state’s expense.17 While

Macphail and Woodsworth were pacifists, it is arguable that the Militia Myth influenced the statements of other MPs. Most did not criticize the Militia as a whole, but the Permanent Force, the

General Staff or summer camps.

This was not a matter of educating politicians and the public on the Militia’s usefulness; the more rabid anti-military detractors would not listen. Nevertheless, the NPAM’s service associations joined together in 1932 to form the Conference of Defense Associations in order to lobby the government and educate the public.18 But it too could do little to educate or influence individuals, organizations, and governments if they did not want to listen.

Sutherland, however, listened. When preparing the 1933-34 military appropriations request,

Sutherland declared to Parliament that the NPAM’s training budget was: “The key vote of the whole

16DND, Report 1929, 42; DND, Report 1930, 44; DND, Report 1931, 45; DND, Annual Report 1932 (Ottawa: King’s Printer, 1932), 46; DND, Annual Report 1933 (Ottawa: King’s Printer, 1934), 52; DND, Report 1939, 12-13; Bishop, Salute!, 119, 127; Williams, First in the Field, 200.

17Canada, House of Commons Debates (March 4, 1932), 817; Canada, House of Commons Debates (April 14, 1932), 2009; Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 1:116-17.

18Morrison, Voice of Defence, 42. 176 department. Everything else hinges on it, because if anything ever did happen it is the non- permanent active militia which would have to be expanded to do the work. Therefore it is very important that the key people be kept on an efficient basis. It could not be kept on an efficient basis the way that it has been going the last couple of years.”19 The NPAM received $1,986,391 for its training. The increase went to a larger artillery camp and expanded training for specialists such as machine gunners and signallers.20

Fearful that this was just a temporary increase, McNaughton wrote Sutherland to complain that further reductions in the NPAM’s training vote would:

Necessitate the stoppage of all training; the closing of many armouries, and the disbanding of many units; the full consequence of this cannot be foreseen but might probably result in the disintegration of the present very fine organization which is kept going by the voluntary and largely unpaid efforts of devoted Militia officers throughout the Country. If this transpires there would be an immediate necessity to provide a much more expensive organization to take the place of our traditional Militia.21

McNaughton placed a powerful argument before Sutherland, appealing to economy and acknowledging the sacrifice and patriotism of the Militia. In the next two years, the NPAM received

$2,011,642 and $2,348,081 respectively. Why would the government, still fighting the effects of the

Depression, fund the NPAM more generously? The simple answer is that it perceived a potential need for soldiers. The “anything” Sutherland referred to in his speech was not an external need as much as an internal one.

19Canada, House of Commons Debates (March 17, 1933), 3146.

20Ibid, 3145-46; DND, Report 1934, 12, 40.

21Major General A. G. L. McNaughton to Minister of National Defense, June 1, 1933, fol. “McN (M) 64W Notes on Estimates Generally,” McNaughton Papers, vol. 112 , NAC. 177

By 1932, nearly a quarter of Canada’s labor force was unemployed. McNaughton toured the country that year inspecting military establishments and saw the destitution firsthand. He worried that the health and morale of so many men was drastically deteriorating and that they were susceptible to communist propaganda. Nervous mayors and premiers called upon Bennett to prevent potential agitators fomenting revolution or rioting. McNaughton conceived of work camps administered by National Defense as a way to get unemployed men back on their feet. In exchange for their labor, they received food, shelter, and a stipend of 20 cents a day until they could find their own employment. McNaughton’s plan had two aims: to get men off the streets (and out of the cities) and to get them working on projects of national importance, such as building highways and airfields, that the Depression had delayed. To help as many men as possible, the work performed at these camps depended on manual methods. The press, public, and politicians rejoiced at the news of this plan. The first camp opened in November. The relief camps were the only interest Bennett showed in the military while he was prime minister.22

The Militia benefitted greatly from the camps. Between 1932 and 1936, National Defense assisted 170,000 men at its relief camps, the majority of which were in British Columbia. Besides civilian projects, laborers constructed barracks, armories, air stations, and a variety of minor projects at numerous military bases. Officers administered the camps, giving them the opportunity to organize several thousand men. This experience was similar to what they would encounter during a mobilization for war. The army service corps, in particular, received much practical experience

22Pierre Berton, The Great Depression (Toronto: McClelland & Stewart, 1990), 156; Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 1: 125-26, 316; Larry A. Glassford, Reaction and Reform: The Politics of the Conservative Party under R. B. Bennett, 1927-1938 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1992), 123; Michiel Horn, ed., The Dirty Thirties: Canadians in the Great Depression (Canada: Copp Clark, 1972), 329; Bill Waiser, All Hell Can’t Stop Us: The On- to-Ottawa Trek and Regina Riot (Calgary: Fifth House, 2003), 33. 178 with service and transport duties that had been hitherto neglected. McNaughton was involved in many aspects of the camps, enjoying the challenge it represented. He hoped that the Militia could show its worth and thus justify its continued existence during the Depression.23

Some citizens began to wonder about the virtue of keeping civilians under military control, fearful that they were being subjected to both military discipline and military training. McNaughton worked hard to dispel this line of thinking, although some camps were run with strict discipline and regimentation. The civilian nature of the projects was zealously enforced. Civilian foremen supervised the construction. Officers and NCOs would not appear in uniform in front of the workers, even when the projects took place on military property. The public had difficulty believing these facts so long as National Defense ran the program, but it was the only government agency capable of administering the camps.24

Opposition to the camps slowly increased after the first year. Manufacturers and labor unions protested when camp workers undertook skilled labor, such as brick-making or opening quarries.

Life in the camps was hard. Between June 1933 and March 1934, there were no fewer than 57 disturbances in the more than 120 camps across Canada. In all of 1934, there were one hundred disturbances, riots and strikes in British Columbia camps. While no one was compelled to enter or remain in the camps, hunger or the need to support a family was a powerful incentive. Even during the Depression, 20 cents a day for eight hours of back-breaking labor was not a considerable wage.

Many accused Ottawa of using slave labor. Men could not complain about conditions without risk

23Berton, Great Depression, 269; Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 1: 126, 129; Graves, Century of Service, 182; Haycock, “Clash of Imperatives,” 253; Roy, For Most Conspicuous Bravery, 118; Stacey, Military Problems of Canada, 95; Swettenham, McNaughton, 1: 273; Warren, Wait for the Waggon, 146.

24Allen, Ordeal by Fire, 310, 335; Berton, Great Depression, 158; Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 1: 133-35. 179 of being expelled from a camp. The camps were often isolated, with no recreation at all. These austere living conditions were made worse by the lack of respect from some camp administrators and the sometimes stern regimentation. By 1934, only McNaughton and Bennett could not see the camps as a political liability, believing the government was being munificent. McNaughton worried that abandoning the camps would plunge the country into chaos or even revolution. He explained to his detractors that it was better to fund these projects to relieve pressure in the cities than to have the military suppress disorder. The Permanent Force, with its sparse resources and declining membership, was incapable of quelling large-scale outbreaks of violence. As many feared, communists indeed infiltrated some camps, but their agitation turned out to be a minor nuisance compared to the legitimate protest that arose in 1935.25 The men in the camps resolved to do something about their conditions and the government’s handling of them.

Beginning in Vancouver, an “On-to-Ottawa trek” protested Bennett’s handling of the

Depression. It gained momentum as it moved across Western Canada by rail. Men flooded out of the camps at each stop. The government was concerned enough that the trekkers might be trying to seize the reins of power in a bloody coup that it ordered the Lord Strathcona’s Horse and Calgary

Highlanders to guard Mewata Armory as the trek passed through Calgary. Contributing to Ottawa’s worries were the facts that communists were among the trekkers and were supporting the strikes, raising money, and arranging food and shelter for the trekkers along their route. The trek numbered thousands when it was stopped in Regina, Saskatchewan, at Bennett’s orders. On July 1, after two weeks of stand-off, the RCMP provoked a riot by attempting to remove the trek’s leaders during a

25Allen, Ordeal by Fire, 335; Berton, Great Depression, 178, 266, 273; Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 1: 129-32, 134-35. 180 rally. The results were two dead, hundreds injured, and thousands of dollars in property damage.26

The riot ended both the trek and, eventually, the work relief program.

Bennett’s government had spent over $100 million in five years on relief measures. But this did not seem to impact on the nation’s economic situation or favorably impress voters. In the summer before the October 1935 election, Bennett viewed McNaughton’s close association with his government as detrimental to his campaign. The camps were a distraction and McNaughton’s staunch defense of them compounded the problem. Unlike the American Civilian Conservation

Corps, which were run by the US Army, the Canadian relief camps were seen more as a form of state control rather than community betterment. Having the Permanent Force run the camps was, according to historian , a “sore point with a public that had been conditioned by the excesses of the Great War to distrust the military.” Bennett decided to shift McNaughton to the president’s office at the National Research Council. McNaughton did not want to leave the Militia, but he submitted to his friend’s wishes. He retired on June 30. King’s Liberals retook control of

Parliament in the election, winning the largest majority in Canadian history to that time. King transferred the relief camps to the Department of Labor for the winter before closing them in 1936.27

26 Horn, Dirty Thirties, 345, 351; Waiser, All Hell Can’t Stop Us, xi-xii, 21, 57, 140; Williams, Far from Home, 87.

27Berton, Great Depression, 270; Burns, General Mud, 92; Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 1: 136, 148; Glassford, Reaction and Reform, 122; Stephen Harris, “The Canadian General Staff and the Higher Organization of Defence, 1919-1939,” in Canada’s Defence: Perspectives on Policy in the Twentieth Century, ed. B. D. Hunt and R. G. Haycock (Toronto: Copp Clark Pittman, 1993), 75; W. H. McConnell, “The Genesis of the Canadian ‘New Deal’,” Journal of Canadian Studies 4, 2 (1969): 39; Neatby, Politics of Chaos, 59, 80; Swettenham, McNaughton, 1: 278, 316. 181

Before McNaughton left, he penned one final report to the government, the oft-quoted

“Defence of Canada” memorandum of May 1935.28 What historians focus on most is a section that listed specific deficiencies in the Militia’s equipment. To be sure, McNaughton painted a grim picture. The Militia did not possess a single modern anti-aircraft gun. Its coast artillery was obsolescent and even defective; many guns at Esquimalt had not been fired in years because it was feared they could only fire no more than twelve additional rounds. The stocks of field gun ammunition inherited from the First World War could provide only 90 minutes of fire at normal rates. Finally, horse harness, the only type of equipment the Militia held in quantity, was practically useless because “a modern land force will include very little horsed transport.”29 As befitting a decorated, and even celebrated, artillery officer, McNaughton focused on the Militia’s artillery deficiencies more than other areas. What was worse was that these were many of the same items the

Militia’s annual reports had warned about in 1929.

The CGS noted that the Militia’s appropriations since the Great War had been “barely sufficient to keep the mechanism of defence in being.” Few new items could be purchased or added to the stocks of equipment; reserves were depleted by their use in the NPAM’s limited training.

McNaughton conceded this situation was somewhat tolerable given the United Kingdom’s Ten Year

Rule, the dictum that assumed there would be no major war for ten years from any given date and served as a rationale for limited military spending. No Canadian government formally adopted the

Ten Year Rule, but Ottawa effectively followed it by allowing the Department of National Defense

28Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 1: 318-19; English, Failure in High Command, 45; Harris, Canadian Brass, 201; Stacey, Arms, Men and Government, 3; Stacey, Six Years of War, 6.

29Major General Andrew G. L. McNaughton, “The Defence of Canada (A Review of the Present Position),” , 1935, fol. X-4 “Requirements of Canadian Defence,” Ian Mackenzie Papers, vol. 29, NAC. McNaughton also revealed that the RCAF lacked even bombs for their aircraft. 182 to contemplate virtually nothing beyond minimal training and maintenance. The Militia could not even afford to provide boots to NPAM soldiers.30

The main problem with McNaughton’s defense review was that it was intended for the

Bennett government, which soon left power. A few months later, McNaughton’s replacement, Major

General E. C. Ashton, presented a similar report to the Liberal government at the behest of Defense

Minister Ian Mackenzie.31

II

In peacetime, training is a primary gauge of a military force’s efficiency. With little to no drill, troops cannot be expected to retain efficiency. The budget cuts in this period caused the

NPAM’s training budget to fluctuate which impacted adversely on this crucial activity. With limited numbers, the Militia continued its policy of conducting skeletal training that focused on officers,

NCOs, and specialists. Before the renewed but relative parsimony, the NPAM units performed as best they could. In each military district, Permanent Force and NPAM officers took uncommon measures to ensure their charges received the best training possible. As before, if a unit had no or few dedicated officers and men, then its training in this period was even more limited than forced upon it by Ottawa.

30Ibid.; Morrison, The Voice of Defence, 74. The British cancelled the Ten Year Rule in 1933 after a comprehensive review of the international situation. Some NPAM units purchased boots at their own expense, leading to an odd situation during the Depression. Officers had to seek out derelict soldiers who had enlisted in the NPAM to receive warm clothing and boots, but who did not attend any parades. Such property was desperately needed for those soldiers who would actually attend. Major J. Murray Savage, “The Non-Permanent Active Militia in the Great Depression,” in Battlelines: Eyewitness Accounts from Canada’s Military History, ed. J. L. Granatstein and Norman Hillmer (Toronto: Thomas Allen Publishers, 2004), 230. On the other hand, the Calgary Highlanders provided their recruits with all the accoutrements of a Highland soldier, except for the boots. Williams, Far from Home, 89. The 2nd Battalion, Alberta Mounted Rifles, either advanced soldiers the money to purchase boots or allowed new recruits to wear with shoes. Graves, Century of Service, 185.

31Major General E. C. Ashton, “The Requirements of Canadian Defence (A Review of the Present Position),” November 12, fol. X-4, 1935, Mackenzie Papers, vol. 29, NAC; Haycock, “Clash of Imperatives,” 254. 183

The training budget for 1929-30 was $2,313,939, down $882 from the previous year. The

NPAM trained slightly more personnel at camps and slightly fewer at local headquarters. This again indicated the Militia’s preference for camp training. As mentioned, the Permanent Force’s camp training emphasized individual training rather than combined training. The training policy for 1929-

30 stated the goal of concentrating on unit tactical training and marksmanship. Nevertheless, the focus of training was still young officers, NCO’s, and specialists. The Militia was attempting to create a proficient cadre to enable the NPAM to mobilize and, with only limited assistance from the

Permanent Force, complete the training of its units for war. All training was to include administrative, technical, and tactical aspects.32 This cadre training was the only option for the

Militia, given the funding it received.

One NPAM camp report from 1929 described just how a central camp could accomplish the training policy. Four different battalions executed tactical exercises, designed by their own officers, that followed the principles of fire and movement as well as the use of ground. The battalions were the Grey Regiment, the Simcoe Foresters, , and the Northern Pioneers. The following year, the same battalions came to camp 110 of all ranks over their limit and reduced their respective stays so that all their men could be transported and paid. The units conducted their drills with Permanent Force instructors acting only to assist and guide the NPAM personnel. This arrangement gave the NPAM officers and NCOs more confidence and experience with handling their

32DND Policy of Training 1929-1930, NAC, RG 24, vol. 6286; DND, Report 1930, 7; DND, Annual Report 1937 (Ottawa: King’s Printer, 1937), 13; Major K. Stuart, “The Training of the Non-Permanent Active Militia: Being a discussion of the influence of Ground and the potentialities of the Sand Table,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 7 (July 1930): 482. 184 units.33 Not only did these battalions meet training goals, they also experienced added enthusiasm and interest after completing challenging exercises.

Similarly, the 1929 Aldershot camp held nearly 250 more officers and men than the camp in

1928. While the previous year’s training was not particularly successful, due to inexperience and poor weather, it had created eagerness amongst the units. This year, the troops were divided into two small brigades, each one having a composite cavalry squadron, infantry battalion and a machine-gun battalion, to conduct maneuvers. This gave the commanding officers a better understanding of handling large units and formations. Overall, the results in 1929 were better than the previous year.34

One of the most ambitious maneuvers run in the interwar years took place in British

Columbia. In 1929, the Canadian Scottish Regiment and the Seaforth Highlanders conducted a beach assault landing exercise with the Royal Navy, RCN and the RCAF. The exercise was the inspiration of Colonel , a staff officer with Military District No.11. The four-day exercise featured the highlanders defending a beach against the scottish. The two regiments returned in 1930 to practice assault landing and beach-defense tactics. Reginald H. Roy, the historian for both regiments, commented: “As training schemes they represented an almost complete break from the usual type of summer camp manoeuvres which hitherto had been based on the experiences gained

33Brigadier A. H. Bell, “Report on the Camp of Instruction, 22nd Infantry Brigade, Held at Huntsville, Ontario,” September 26, 1929, fol. HQ-33-186-2, RG 24, vol. 6286, NAC; Major General E. C. Ashton, “Camp Commandant’s Report on the Camp of Instruction, Non-Permanent Active Militia, Held at New Liskeard, Ontario,” September 8, 1930, fol. HQ-33-190-1, RG 24, vol. 6286, NAC.

34Brigadier W. Gibsone, “Camp Commandant’s Report, Aldershot Camp,” November 9, 1928, fol. HQ-33- 11-184 and Brigadier W. Gibsone, “Camp Commandant’s Report, Aldershot Camp,” July 31, 1929, fol. HQ-33-11- 187, RG 24, vol. 6284, NAC. 185 in the First World War.”35 Other “landing” camps were carried out in 1932 and 1933. The staff learned many lessons from planning and observing the exercises, although the exercise and the

Permanent Force officers conducting it did not escape criticism from some sources.36 Still, this was a highly ambitious training exercise that speaks well of the regular officers in the district and these

NPAM regiments. Very few amphibious landings were practiced during the interwar years by any military, and certainly not one as chronically underfunded as the Canadian Militia.37

Besides the amphibious exercise, Brigadier James Sutherland Brown, DOC of district No.11, and Colonel Pearkes organized central camps for all the units in their district except artillery in 1929.

This allowed units of different arms to observe each other’s operations and engage in combined arms training with other branches and services. Brown insisted combined operations should be the focus of training while he was DOC from 1929 until 1933. Pearkes also organized staff rides through

British Columbia’s mountain passes and rugged valleys, conducted by former British officers. These allowed staff and junior officers to gain a keener appreciation for the importance of terrain and to

35Roy, Ready for the Fray, 29. Brigadier James Sutherland Brown insisted on practicing amphibious assaults for two reasons: the possibility, albeit remote, of a Japanese invasion, and his belief that a future Canadian expeditionary force would need to make a hostile landing on an enemy coast. Atholl Sutherland Brown, Buster, A Canadian Patriot and Imperialist: The Life and Times of Brigadier James Sutherland Brown (Waterloo: Laurier Centre for Strategic and Disarmament Studies, 2004), 136.

36According to Bert Hoffmeister, a Canadian general during the Second World War, few of the Seaforth officers and NCOs taking part in the amphibious exercise were familiar with small-unit tactics, let alone something as ambitious as an assault landing. Hoffmeister did not have a positive opinion about the Permanent Force officers running the exercise, as he felt they knew little more about amphibious exercises than their NPAM counterparts. Indeed, Hoffmeister, demonstrating some of the old NPAM disdain for regulars, saw the Permanent Force officers as “overweight” and generally “useless.” Part of the problem for the Seaforths was that this was only their third summer camp experience since the end of the Great War, the first being in 1927. Brown, Buster, 147; Delaney, Soldier’s General, 18; Roy, For Most Conspicuous Bravery, 102; Roy, Seaforth Highlanders of Canada, 26, 28.

37The United States Marine Corps practiced opposed landings in 1924, 1925 and 1926. The experiments showed the need for better boats, improved communications, and more training on debarking troops and equipment. There were no more landing exercises until 1934. Allan R. Millett, Semper Fidelis: The History of the United States Marine Corps, rev. and exp. ed. (New York: Free Press, 1991), 327-29. 186 consider various military problems.38 Not only did central camps and staff rides mean more realistic training, they added variety. To an interwar NPAM unit, variety meant interest, which, in turn, meant a unit’s continued survival.

While not as intricate as the amphibious landing, there were other enterprising exercises in

1929. For example, the Elgin Regiment repelled an “invasion” of St. Thomas by the 7th Canadian

Fusiliers from nearby London. An RCAF bomber that dropped flour bag bombs supported the fusiliers, while the elgins had an “armored car” at their disposal. The umpires ruled the battle a draw.

The locals were impressed by the display.39

The NPAM’s training budget climbed to $2,356,937 for 1930-31. The General Staff chose to adhere to the previous year’s policy. Over the previous three years, the policy had led to a doubling in the number of men taking specialist courses. Prime Minister King overruled Ralston’s attempt to increase the Militia’s overall budget, so it dipped slightly from $11,163,170 to

$11,026,363. King exaggeratedly boasted in his diary that he had saved “many times all my salary for all the years I will be in office and all expenses to the country.”40 It was Ralston’s last budget as defense minister.

By July 1930, most officers could see that training funds were due to decrease in the coming budgets and began to seek alternatives. Major Ken Stuart penned an article for the CDQ that urged using sand tables to teach officers the uses and advantages of ground. The sand table was a large scale relief map model that could be built at little or no expense to the public. It could teach the

38Brown, Buster, 145; Roy, For Most Conspicuous Bravery, 100, 103.

39Curchin and Sim, Elgins, 55.

40Mackenzie King Diary, January 8, 1930; Canada, House of Commons Debates (May 30, 1930), 2898; DND, Report 1931, 7; DND, Report 1934, 12. 187 application of principles found in manuals or learned in actual field exercises. Stuart suggested sand tables and map reading could fill the gaps caused by the lack of camp training, but he also insisted they could not replace the camps. A unit’s commander had to ensure his men were being trained for war, that their training had continuity, and that it was “sound, interesting and progressive.”41 The next issue’s editorial reminded its readers that training needed to combine work and play. Work brought out the troops’ physical and mental qualities and play brought out their moral ones, such as courage, determination, and loyalty. The editorial recommended close-order drill to teach efficiency and instill confidence. It concluded: “The real discipline of a unit in the N.P.A.M. is measured in the quality of its training in administration, weapon training and tactics, and not by its smartness on parade.”42 Both Stuart’s article and the subsequent editorial conveyed the same message: work at local headquarters was essential to the NPAM’s success, especially to make the best use of camps.

The 1930 Aldershot camp held smaller numbers than previous years. Permanent Force instructors advised the NPAM officers and NCOs on how to train their men. The first three days training was devoted to individual training. Novices were split from their more experienced peers for this phase. On the fourth day, the units present formed composite platoons for training. On the eighth and ninth days, the camp conducted an exercise with platoon- and company-level attacks.

There was also a battalion exercise to give commanders an opportunity to handle larger numbers of men.43 The decision to divide soldiers into two streams in the first part of camp met the needs of

41Stuart, “Training of the Non-Permanent Active Militia,” 486-89.

42Editorial, Canadian Defence Quarterly 8 (October 1930): 13.

43Brigadier W. Gibsone, “Camp Commandant’s Report, Aldershot Camp 1930,” September 30, 1930, fol. HQ-33-11-190, RG 24, vol. 6284, NAC. 188 troops requiring remedial work and kept more experienced men from growing bored. This procedure reflected Major Stuart’s ideas about maintaining interesting and progressive training.

Permanent Force officers made consistent efforts to provide NPAM commanders with leadership experience. Brigadier T. V. Anderson, DOC of Military District No.10, reported that each unit present at a weekend camp conducted a regimental tactical exercise prepared by their commanding officers. The battalions were combined to create a composite battalion close to war strength. There was also a brigade tactical exercise. The exercises taught “valuable” lessons on the frontage and depth of an attacking battalion and on infantry-machine-gun cooperation.44

Cavalry regiments could also be as inventive with their time and training. In line with the

Militia’s training policy and limited training budgets, many cavalry camps in the McNaughton era catered primarily to officers and NCOs. In addition to routine soldiering and horse practice, they concentrated on topics such as machine-gun and signals training and tactical exercises. Combined arms exercises with the infantry were popular. The British Columbia Dragoons held, at the minimum, one or two camps per year during the late 1920s and 1930s to conduct tactical exercises.

Early in this period, the Fort Garry Horse’s camps were well-attended and included combined cavalry and infantry tactical exercises. Subsequent camps focused on elementary drill.45 This illustrated how quickly efficiency could be lost in a period of constant turnover and too few funds for adequate training.

44Brigadier T. V. Anderson, “Report on Camp of Instruction, Military District No. 10, 1930,” September 3, 1930, fol. HQ-33-11-190, RG 24, vol. 6284, NAC.

45MacDonald, “Camp Commandant’s Report, Sarcee Camp 1932,” September 8, 1932, NAC; Matthews, “Annual Training Camp Sarcee Camp 1934,” October 3, 1934, NAC; How, 8th Hussars, 86; Roy, Sinews of Steel, 87; Service and Marteinson, Gate, 47-49. 189

The 8th Hussars made the most of its limited training funds due to the ingenuity of its officers and the sacrifices of all ranks. With only $675 available for training in 1931, the regiment held an eight-day camp attended by 18 officers and 40 other ranks. While enlisted men and junior officers followed a syllabus of dismounted drill and musketry, the senior officers attended an advanced tactical course. The next year, with no money for camps again, the hussars convinced district headquarters to allow it to conduct an eight-day camp with 115 officers and men and 78 horses. Only the rank and file received pay. The regiment followed this pattern for the next three years, a tribute to the officers’ devotion to duty. The hussars owed much to the vigilance and persistence of Major

Chris Graham. Graham was instrumental in organizing small units of men to train in the evenings.

He also arranged social events that paid for the hall, lights, and fuel during the year. The regiment’s historian, Douglas How, noted: “the Hussars’ future battles were won at least in part through the pie socials at Hampton and other villages.”46

The Governor-General’s Body Guard and the Mississauga Horse demonstrated the difference between units with dedicated officers and those without. Both focused their training on musketry when unable to attend camp during the Depression. Both enjoyed high attendance at parades during this period, usually surpassing their authorized peacetime strengths, and maintained waiting lists of potential recruits. Their messes and canteens were social centers, particularly during Ontario’s prohibition of alcohol between 1916 and 1927 as they still legally sold alcohol. But it was clear that the horse’s officers regarded the social aspects of the regiment as more important than the military ones. The difference between the units is seen in the body guard’s efforts to conduct camp training.

The body guard held a seven-day camp for 130 of all ranks and 45 horses in 1932, highlighted by a

46How, 8th Hussars, 82-86, 92. 190 two-day field exercise. In 1933, the regiment held a two-day tactical exercise, which featured a

“mechanized” attack on the town of Bolton using nearly twenty privately-owned automobiles. In

April 1935, the regiment conducted a mounted exercise to train its officers and NCOs in cavalry tactics. In June, it held a nine-day camp with a troop from each squadron to practice mounted tactical training. The Mississauga Horse held few camps in this period, except for a four-day camp to practice musketry in 1935.47 That these two units, soon amalgamated as the Governor-General’s

Horse Guards, were so different reflects poorly on the initiative of the horse’s officers.

Training suffered during McNaughton’s tenure even though the NPAM never received less than $1,882,567 (in 1932-33), well more than the Militia had received throughout much of the 1920s.

Training for 1931-32 was limited to 4 days for most branches. The General Staff only allowed training in units that could train “with advantage” at local headquarters. If a regiment wanted to retain efficiency, it had to train extra days at no public expense as four days at local headquarters was simply not enough. Local camps were held in certain military districts where conditions warranted, but in reality all camp training was virtually eliminated unless it was held at no expense to the public.

Some cheered the elimination of camps as the Militia could not escape the stigma that summer camps were some form of holiday and not the best means for conducting realistic and efficient training.48

The training policy was directed toward elementary tactical exercises, weapons training, and (as usual) the qualification of officers, NCOs, and specialists.49 This ensured that the cadre was maintaining, at the very least, its ability to teach important subjects.

47Marteinson and Duncan, Governor-General’s Horse Guards, 134-35, 137, 141-42.

48William H. Price to R. B. Bennett, May 2, 1931, Bennett Papers, Reel M-1106, p. 288563, NAC.

49DND, Report 1932, 7. 191

The effects on the NPAM varied when training budgets shrank. Some battalions, such as the

Royal Grenadier Regiment, reported that they managed to train an “enthusiastic nucleus of leaders and specialists” in keeping with training policy. The battalion fortunately experienced little turnover in its officers and senior NCOs. Indeed, its strength remained stable in the early part of the

Depression, from 234 of all ranks in 1930 to 256 in 1934. Losing few specialists bolstered a unit’s ability to train private soldiers, and to make that training varied and interesting. Despite the decrease in drill budgets, some battalions chose to maintain regular training, such as spending a particular day at rifle ranges or practicing company-sized tactics. This drill, as well as conducting annual camps or maneuvers, usually came at no expense to the public. Indeed, battalions with devoted officers and men tended to go considerably beyond the number of parades that Ottawa funded in these years. For example, the Halifax Rifles trained in 1932 for an extra twenty-one days without pay beyond the six days allocated to it.50 This selfless record demonstrated how seriously the NPAM took its responsibilities for Canada’s defense.

Despite the strain, the NPAM still preferred camp training. After the 60th Field Battery’s camp training was cancelled in 1931, it held a seven-day camp for 38 of all ranks at Lac Pelletier,

Saskatchewan. Captain A. W. Boulter argued that the battery needed the intensive training of a camp: “The men don’t acquire the spirit of the training while the greater part of their working hours during the training period are occupied by civilian duties. . . . When at camp [the men] expect to soldier, and they ‘snap into it.’”51 To facilitate the training experience, the battery used six

50Lieutenant Colonel D. J. MacDonald, “Camp Commandant’s Report, Sarcee Camp 1932,” September 8, 1932, fol. HQ-33-24-198, RG 24, vol. 361, NAC; Goodspeed, Battle Royal, 319, 321; Greenhous, Semper Paratus, 159; Queen-Hughes, Whatever Men Dare, 4; Quigley, Century of Rifles, 94-96, 101, 104.

51Captain A. W. Boulter, “‘Necessity is the Mother of . . .’ (A Western Battery Goes to Camp),” Canadian Defence Quarterly 9 (October 1931): 101-4. 192 automobiles to move around and hired three 1½-ton trucks to haul its supplies and two 18-pounder guns. The officers improvised a way to haul the guns with heavy chains as their only approved harnesses were for horses. The officers chose to train as a mechanized battery since, they argued, it was an increasingly popular trend in other armies.

The battery’s officers were responsible for the administrative details and training syllabus.

The battery commander, Major Gordon Howard, worked out two mechanized artillery schemes in which the battery “co-operated” with other arms. Unfortunately, no firing practice was allowed. The

Militia had not allocated any ammunition to the battery because all artillery training in 1931 was limited to the Permanent Force. Canadian artillery batteries often neglected firing practice in the interwar years, which allowed ammunition from the First World War to last until 1935. A. E. Ross reported that at one week-long summer camp he attended, his battery fired a mere ten shells. Only one shell was used for each set of fire orders during the exercises and practice. Sarcastically, Ross commented: “So generous was Canada to its citizens who were trying to make ready to defend her.”52

More than even the cavalry, artillery needed camp experience. Gunners who lacked experience in firing their field pieces could not operate effectively in actual combat. “It is by such training as this, where junior officers take their batteries in hand and are made responsible for their training that they gain greater initiative and confidence,” Boulter noted, “In these difficult times it is by such makeshifts . . . that we are able to do something to counteract the loss of the usual training.”53 The

60th Field Battery was the model for how a battery could conduct its own training when Ottawa

52Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 1: 312; Swettenham, McNaughton, 1:227. The only other NPAM artillery battery to train in 1931 was the 14th Field Battery in Ontario, which trained four officers and thirty-eight other ranks. DND, Report 1932, 10.

53Boulter, “‘Necessity is the Mother,” 101-4; G. W. L. Nicholson, Gunners of Canada, 2: 27-28. 193 would not fund greater training. Boulter wrote a CDQ article on the experience to inspire other units and, perhaps, to embarrass the government.

Major Howard proved adept at improving his battery’s conditions. As mentioned earlier,

Howard leased a lumber yard’s remodeled sheds to provide his battery with an armory. When the three-year lease expired, Howard got the company to improve the building with better floors, an office, storeroom, and interior facilities for recreation and social programs. To facilitate training in this armory, Howard built a miniature firing range with leftover lumber. He filled it with sand and arranged it to look like open country with hills, roads, bridges, model buildings, and foliage. The idea was to teach his gunners how to lay guns over open sights. His men used a modified .22 rifle to shoot at model tanks and guns. Howard believed the training and social events in the armory “kept the boys interested and kept the unit up to the required strength.”54

The government began funding larger training periods after 1931-32. In 1932-33, the NPAM received $1,882,567 and limited training at local headquarters or in camps to 10 days per unit. Other practices, such as paying a regiment to escort a province’s lieutenant governor to the opening of the legislature, were cancelled to allow more training days. Some battalions still volunteered for the duty at their own expense.55

In 1932, the 10th (St. Catherines) Field Battery, prompted by the 60th’s example, held a six- day camp at Niagara-on-the-Lake, paid for out of the battery’s pooled funds. Other Militia units attended this camp. A battery officer commented that fraternization with other services was beneficial. With only 10 to 20 percent of the battery’s officers and men veterans of the Great War,

54Howard, Memoires of a Citizen Soldier, 40-41.

55DND, Report 1933, 7, 80; Graves, Century of Service, 187. 194 it dearly needed experience in camp administration and routine soldiering. The latter could not be gained at central camps that were normally devoted to technical training. The battery received mechanization experience at Petawawa in 1930, but its decision to use trucks in 1932 was due to the fact that hiring horses was expensive. Bruce Hill, a former CEF battery commander, allowed the 10th to use four trucks from his business. With this assistance, the battery practiced laying, signaling, and gun drill in a more realistic setting than its local headquarters. The battery was impressed with the possibilities afforded by trucks. Gunners also conducted mounted drill and tactical maneuvers in cars. The tactical exercise on the camp’s last day involved cooperation between the battery and a cavalry regiment. An officer reaffirmed that the camp’s “actual practice” was more conducive to learning than theoretical instruction alone.56

As can be seen, the NPAM practiced a variety of training methods and exercises in the

McNaughton era. In fact, National Defense Headquarters gave military district commanders a wide latitude when it came to training and exercises. Often, NPAM senior officers received leave to design their own training exercises and syllabi. For example, the Militia’s training program for the

NPAM in 1934-35 stated: “All tactical exercises will be designed to study the DEFENCE, with special reference to the occupation of a hastily organized position.” Some regiments, however, such as the 48th Highlanders of Canada or the battalions at Aldershot, continued to train for offensive operations instead.57

56R. S. C., “Experiment and Experience, 1932: An Eastern Battery Goes to Camp,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 10 (October 1932): 102-7; Nicholson, Gunners of Canada, 2: 27-28.

57Brigadier H. F. H. Hertzberg, “Camp Commandant’s Report, Aldershot Camp, 1935,” December 30, 1935, fol. HQ-33-11-198, RG 24, vol. 6284, NAC; Beattie, Dileas, 18. 195

The 24th and 29 th Infantry Brigades trained at Sarcee in 1934. The camp lasted ten days, but the brigades’ members received pay for only seven. The brigades conducted tactical drills, mainly for platoons and companies, but also conducted one exercise with the 5th Mounted Brigade. Finally, the brigades conducted one tactical exercise involving a battalion deployed in a defensive position.

This exercise emulated a wartime operation, including a briefing of senior officers followed by the reconnaissance and occupation of the objective. The maneuvers went well and revealed many lessons, particularly to the officers.58 The fact that such exercises could only be conducted by the troops’ self sacrifice spoke volumes about their dedication and also their government’s cavalier attitude toward military preparedness.

The DOC of Military District No. 13, Brigadier General H. H. Matthews, requested that the

Lord Strathcona’s Horse be allowed to train as a regiment in 1934, limiting its instructional duties as much as possible. Matthews repeated the request the next year, insisting: “The Squadron is very efficient as far as elementary tactical work and weapon training is concerned. The young officers of necessity have really no picture (except Theoretical) of cavalry work to build on, never having seen a cavalry regiment at strength. This is a distinct weakness where these officers have to train their troops or have to act as instructors at schools.”59 Unfortunately, the request could not be met.

Few Permanent Force units were able or allowed to train as a complete regiment or battalion after

1933, as they were needed to instruct the NPAM. From 1931 to 1938, the Permanent Force held no central or collective camps.

58Brigadier H. H. Matthews, “Annual Training Sarcee Camp 1934,” October 3, 1934, fol. HQ-33-24-202, RG 24, vol. 361, NAC.

59Brigadier H. H. Matthews, “Camp Commandant’s Report, Sarcee Camp 1933,” December 4, 1933, fol. HQ-33-24-200, RG 24, vol. 361, NAC; Matthews, “Annual Training Camp Sarcee Camp 1934,” October 3, 1934, NAC. 196

This was the paradox of the Canadian Militia: it needed the Permanent Force to teach the

NPAM, but its instructional ability was compromised by the fact that its regiments were penny- packeted throughout the country and rarely received the opportunity to train together or practice combined arms training. There was no escaping the fact that Permanent Force personnel were needed as instructors for NPAM training. The Permanent Force’s professional growth was stunted, which in turn stunted the growth of the NPAM. Without a larger Permanent Force there was no hope of correcting the problem. For this the Canadian government and public bears much of the responsibility. The General Staff could only plead so much in its annual reports and memoranda to their minister. Without a clear and present danger to force Ottawa into greater financial support, there was no hope for the Militia.

In December 1934, the Militia instituted new criteria for incoming NPAM officers. All candidates were required to have passed matriculation exams from a Canadian university.

Alternatively, a candidate had to pass a qualification exam that tested their proficiency at English or

French, mathematics, and geography.60 This rule matched the focused training on officers, NCOs, and specialists, placing an emphasis on officer candidates who had demonstrated an aptitude for learning and critical thought. If McNaughton could not improve the amount of the Militia’s support, he could improve the quality of its officers.

Compared to the earlier camps at Aldershot, the 1935 camp was small. Only 78 officers, 291 other ranks, and 29 horses attended. The small attending numbers meant that training was restricted virtually to the platoon-level. The DOC, Brigadier General H. F. H. Hertzberg, captured the effects

60Militia Order 452, “Educational Qualification for First Appointment to Commissions in the N.P.A.M.”, December 7, 1934, vol. 1930, NAC. 197 of paltry training budgets by commenting that both officers and soldiers, the experienced and novices alike, seemed to lack knowledge of the platoon and its organization, weapons, or function. Hertzberg commented: “The units varied considerably in quality of officers and N.C.Os., the best having good organization and being strong in instructional ability. As usual, it was found that a great deal depended on the Commanding Officer.”61 Without the dedication of the commanding officer, and the retention of important NCOs and specialists, an efficient and enthusiastic NPAM unit could slip in a matter of years.

III

The McNaughton era was an odd period for the Militia. It brought both highs and lows. The

Militia enjoyed real benefits during this period, with a temporary increase in drill and the erection of new facilities. Training progress depended on the troops’ own generosity, and such noble gestures could not compensate for government indifference. The lows brought pay cuts, a dearth of drill in the early 1930s, political attacks, and public scorn. McNaughton’s “Defence of Canada” memorandum contained nothing new when it came to the Militia’s deficiencies. It merely echoed many of the issues the General Staff had been attempting to address for years.

The end of MacBrien’s tenure saw an indifferent public response to the military, but distaste for soldiering returned during McNaughton’s. The McNaughton era began with the Kellogg-Briand

Pact debate, which questioned the need for a military at all. This led soon afterwards to the

“merchants of death” debate in Canada. Canadians questioned whether the army was a waste of time

61Brigadier Hertzberg, “Camp Commandant’s Report, Aldershot Camp, 1935,” December 30, 1935, NAC; Memorandum “Estimates, N.P.A.M. Training, 1935-1936,” n.d., McNaughton Papers, vol. 13, NAC. 198 and money. A strong defense minister or a comprehensive military policy would have allayed some of these misgivings, but the chances for either under the Conservatives was low.

The Conservative government immediately cut the Militia’s appropriations and its training budget. Many NPAM units went to extraordinary lengths to drill, often at no expense to Ottawa.

Camp training was preferred, as under MacBrien, because it more closely simulated actual operations and the intensity allowed for better comprehension. The NPAM needed strong leadership, and there were several examples of that during this period, such as Graham and Howard. But even model officers and devoted soldiers could do little to make up for the Militia’s deficiencies. At best, they could mitigate the damage done by those failings. 199

CHAPTER EIGHT:

“PREPARING OUR OWN MINDS”

MECHANIZATION AND THE CANADIAN MILITIA, 1919-1935

From the end of the First World War through McNaughton’s tenure as CGS, the Canadian

Militia thought increasingly about mechanization. In this context, mechanization refers to both supplying mechanical transport to cavalry, artillery, and infantry units and to the creation of armored units. The former is also often referred to as motorization. Not every officer agreed with mechanization as there were those, as in other interwar armies, who did not want the horse to disappear from the army. General MacBrien started the trend toward mechanization, but it was

McNaughton who would see it through, aided by the Canadian Defence Quarterly. Historian Shane

Schreiber questioned whether McNaughton’s attitude toward mechanization, stemming from the First

World War, may have shaped the attitude of those officers who “grew up” under his tenure as CGS in the 1920s and 1930s. McNaughton seemed initially to have favored massive fire support over maneuver elements. Schreiber writes that McNaughton ignored Currie’s efforts to incorporate movement into his battles and his repeated experiments with mechanized forces.1 But

McNaughton’s support for mechanization while he led Canada’s Militia is well-documented.

Brian Bond writes that a good indicator of an army’s progressive attitudes during the interwar years was its support for mechanization. If that is the case, then the Canadian Militia was a progressive organization. Canadian attitudes toward mechanization indicate that the officer corps was not as conservative as some historians, such as George Stanley, would claim. Roman

1Schreiber, Shock Army of the British Empire, 82, 126, 142. 200

Jarymowycz argues that Canadian officers in the interwar years were hesitant and unimaginative.

Similarly, Jack Granatstein contends that Canadian doctrine “calcified” in 1918. Russell A. Hart suggests that Canada’s military culture prevented it from adapting innovations.2 Based on General

Staff memoranda, requests from various NPAM officers, and the writings in the CDQ, many

Canadian officers were actually creative and forward-thinking. But given the limited funds available to the Militia, it could little to foster a mechanization program beyond taking some half-steps.

I

The General Staff moved slowly down the path of mechanization. During the immediate postwar years, there was little money available for either vehicles or experimentation. As mentioned earlier, the number of vehicles the Militia possessed slowly dropped throughout this period. Not until late in the 1920s, when J. L. Ralston became defense minister, were serious steps taken to begin the mechanization process. The main impetus came from the Royal Canadian Artillery and Royal

Canadian Horse Artillery who received several vehicles at that time. In 1935, the Militia conducted armored car trials. Both of these developments occurred under McNaughton’s guidance.

Throughout this period, mechanization was never far from the General Staff’s plans and considerations, though it was infeasible to begin a comprehensive and sustained program.

In 1920, the Militia Council decided that the Royal Canadian Army Service Corps would be best served by its pre-war organization, which was based on horse transport. It authorized no motorized companies, despite the Canadian Corps relying on such companies in France. Ottawa provided little to the NPAM’s Service Corps companies. These also lacked men, even those located

2Brian Bond, British Military Policy between the Two World Wars (New York: Oxford University Press, 1980), 127; Granatstein, Canada’s Army, 148; Hart, Clash of Arms, 3; Jarymowycz, Tank Tactics, 33; Stanley, Canada’s Soldiers, 339. 201 in cities.3 Since the NPAM service companies often lacked horses, funds and equipment, why not place them on a motorized basis? They could have then conducted training in privately-owned or rented vehicles, rather than hiring expensive horses. Horses were harder and harder for units to procure during the interwar period, particularly in urban areas. The companies potentially could have enlisted the aid of local industries and firms to borrow the vehicles, as many NPAM units did during the interwar period.

The Otter Committee made several decisions regarding mechanization while it reorganized the Militia. In April 1920, Major L. E. Haines suggested the formation of a NPAM tank unit. Even without a single tank on hand, Haines held that the unit could learn the basics of gunnery, discipline, and map-reading. He felt there would be time if Canada ever had to mobilize for the unit to learn to drive the tank and fire its weapons. Haines reasoned that the cost of the unit’s training under such straitened circumstances would not be excessive. He contended the unit would be “popular” and the personnel “easily recruited.” He volunteered for the unit and offered the service of many others. The

General Staff’s reply informed Haines there would be no Permanent Force or NPAM tank unit in the postwar establishment, as tanks would cease to exist as a separate formation in the imperial army.

In July, Lieutenant Colonel F. B. Ware, writing for the Director of Organization, suggested to the

Adjutant General, Major General E. C. Ashton, that a tank corps would be a more suitable goal after

3Only one NPAM company conducted training in 1920-21, compared to more than a dozen cavalry and 70 infantry regiments. The infantry’s theoretical eleven divisions each had a divisional train consisting of a headquarters and four horse transport companies, but no motorized companies were authorized. In March 1924, the largest NPAM Service Corps company had 75 of all ranks, the smallest only 6; only two units had more than 50 officers and men. DMD, Report 1921, 8-10; DND, Report 1924, 13-18; Warren, Wait for the Waggon, 122. 202 the Militia’s existing combat arms had reached a more advanced state of efficiency.4 In the end, no tank corps was formed as it was soon apparent to the General Staff that Ottawa would not finance such an outfit.

General MacBrien encouraged the General Staff to examine mechanization and armored warfare. MacBrien commanded the 12th Brigade during the in 1918, where it attempted to use tanks as personnel carriers. He circulated J. F. C. Fuller’s “The Evolution of the

Tank and its Influence on Future Tactics” among the senior staff. Fuller’s pamphlet was a reply to

Lieutenant General Sir P. W. Chetwode’s “Tanks as a New Arm” from late 1920. Fuller questioned whether horse cavalry could remain effective on the battlefield and whether or not tradition should stand in the way of tactical efficiency. To Fuller, cavalry lacked protection and firepower while on the move. Tanks, on the other hand, combined mobility with both firepower and protection. An army’s aim was to destroy the enemy with as much tactical efficiency as possible, so new weapons such as tanks should not be dismissed because they displaced an older arm.5 MacBrien did not circulate Chetwode’s letter. The clearness of Fuller’s message on the tank’s advantages, when combined with fact that the Department of National Defense’s first annual report specifically mentioned the Militia’s lack of tanks, suggests MacBrien was encouraging his senior officers to learn about and understand armored warfare.

Several senior officers replied to MacBrien regarding Fuller’s pamphlet. Colonel Ware and

Brigadier General W. A. Griesbach expressed reservations about tanks due to their impact on the

4Major L. E. Haines to unidentified general, April 16, 1920 and reply, May 5, 1920, fol. 420-18-68, RG 24, Reel C-8261, NAC; Lieutenant Colonel F. R. Ware, for Director of Organization, to Adjutant General, July 23, 1920, fol. HQS-3352-vol.1, RG 24, vol. 2588, NAC.

5J. F. C. Fuller, “The Evolution of the Tank and its Influence on Future Tactics,” December 6, 1920, fol. HQS-3352-vol.1, RG 24, vol. 2588, NAC. This same letter is located in the papers of several officers at the NAC. 203 older branches. Lieutenant Colonel E. W. Sansom, who later commanded the 5th Canadian Armored

Division from 1941 to 1943, thought that tanks rendered all other branches obsolete and would replace cavalry’s battlefield role of shock and maneuver. He urged the creation of a separate tank arm so that commanders would not rely on tanks solely as supplementary firepower. Sansom proposed that a tank company be formed within his own corps, the Machine Gun Brigade. His commanding officer, Major General V. A. S. Williams, took a different position. Williams agreed with the creation of a tank unit, but he did not want it placed within his fledgling, and soon to be defunct, brigade. He felt the difference in tactics between tank and machine gun units was too great and would lead to confusion within the brigade if they were mixed. Instead, Williams urged that more senior branches create a tank unit.6 With the decision already made that the interwar Militia could not afford tanks, these officers’ positions were moot. On the other hand, at least some officers were thinking about the possibilities of tanks. Even the negative comments stemmed not from performance issues but parochial regimental concerns and anachronistic fears of being replaced by contraptions.

Those officers who attended Staff College at Camberley between 1923 and 1926 would come into close contact with J. F. C. Fuller, who was then serving as the college’s chief instructor. The officers included , E. W. Sansom, Maurice Pope, and Ken Stuart. All became advocates of mechanization in Canada’s interwar army and would serve key roles in Canada’s Second World

War effort. Crerar and Stuart would also teach at RMC, and serve as the school’s commandant,

6Greenhous, Dragoon, 275-76. Even as the Militia turned its back on tanks, Canadians learned about the possibilities of armored warfare in Fuller’s article, “Tank Power to Rule World,” published in Maclean’s. Fuller envisioned mechanized armies landing at unguarded points along an enemy coast and raiding the countryside, freed from supply lines, roads, or rail heads. He felt the only sensible way to surmount the challenges of modern warfare was to adopt mechanical solutions. J. F. C. Fuller, “Tank Power to Rule World,” Maclean’s, October 1, 1921, 28. 204 instructing a new generation of officers about the possibilities of mechanization. While at

Camberley, Crerar’s reports to National Defense Headquarters in Ottawa spoke of restoring mobility to the battlefield through the tank. This could be partially accomplished by freeing it from its infantry support role, and increasing the mobility of artillery, infantry, logistics, and communications.7

MacBrien gave at least three speeches to the Artillery Association about mechanization. The first, delivered in 1922, discussed the U.S. Army’s experiments with tractor-drawn and tractor- carried artillery, including the latter firing on the move. MacBrien emphasized that the difference between the First World War and future wars would be the use of the tractor by the artillery and other services. In 1924, MacBrien spoke about British developments he observed in 1923 when he attended the Imperial Conference. He told the association that there was an economical basis for switching to mechanical transport. The only drawback, as he saw it, was the need to transport battery personnel and to provide protection to them, their weapons, and their vehicles. In 1925, MacBrien reported on the British Army’s maneuvers for that year. The British had decided to mechanize the majority of their medium and heavy artillery. That same summer, Canadian artillery batteries at

Camp Petawawa used tractors for their training, but that was due to an unexpected lack of horses as the RCHA’s “A” and “B” Batteries were on strike duty in Nova Scotia and had taken their mounts with them.8

7DND, Report 1924, 19; DND, Report 1926, 19; Dickson, Thoroughly Canadian General, 75, 115; Pope, Soldiers and Politicians, 58. Crerar kept his notes from Camberley, suggesting the influence the experience had on him. Pope became friends with Fuller, writing him throughout the interwar period.

8Nicholson, Gunners of Canada, 2: 13-14. 205

In January 1927, MacBrien urged Ralston, recently appointed to the defense ministry, to develop a new military policy that included a mechanization program. MacBrien observed that many countries had begun mechanizing their armies: “We are in danger of being left hopelessly behind unless this important matter is taken in hand in the near future.” He listed the General Staff’s mechanization priorities as purchasing vehicles for the medium artillery, followed by tanks, armored cars and cross-country vehicles.9 Ralston authorized experiments with tractor and wheeled vehicles in the last half of 1927.

Before those experiments began, the Militia issued special precautions on the upkeep and maintenance of what few motor vehicles it possessed, particularly the new Militia’s recently purchased six-wheeled trucks. Because maintenance was expensive, all district DOCs were told to use horses to their full capacity, to use mechanical transport only when horses were unavailable or prohibitive distances were involved. Medium trucks were to be used only when the loads justified or it would materially reduce the number of light truck journeys.10

In the summer of 1927, the Royal Canadian Artillery began a ten-day mechanical vehicle trial at Petawawa to find a substitute for the horse. A mechanical solution was needed out of concern for conserving horseflesh. The artillery’s limited number of horses worked hard during the training season, participating in both the NPAM and Permanent Force’s training. Seven tractors, including semi- and full-track varieties, were tested. All the vehicles were loaned free of charge to the Militia by the firms that produced them. The Fordson tractor outperformed its competitors in the trial. Its

9Chief of Staff, “Memorandum on the Defence Forces of Canada,” January 22, 1927, NAC.

10Quartermaster General Circular Letter No. 13 “Mechanical Transport Vehicles – Use and Upkeep” to DOCs, all Military Districts, April 14, 1927, fol. HQ-33-96-172, RG 24, vol. 6284, NAC. The annual reports make no more mention of the numbers of motor vehicles the Militia possessed after the 1925 report. 206 usefulness, however, was limited to training purposes as its maximum speed of twelve miles per hour was a drawback.11

The Militia conducted additional experiments in the late summer and winter with six-wheeled trucks, one from Canada and two from Britain. National Defense purchased the British trucks, one light and one medium, while the one from Canada was supplied by Gotfredson Motor Company at its own expense. These trucks could serve as either mechanical transport or haul artillery, but the

Militia considered them mainly as conveyances. In the CDQ, Captain N. G. Duckett commented that all vehicles were able to carry their maximum loads and negotiate the obstacles encountered in cross- country movement. Nevertheless, he praised the medium British truck over the others, due to its greater power and stronger construction. Duckett admitted that one reason for publishing accounts of the trials in the CDQ was to interest the Militia and the public in mechanical development.12 In

National Defense’s annual report, the praise for the six-wheeled vehicles was ebullient: “These vehicles have been put to very severe tests and the manner in which they surmounted difficult obstacles was remarkable.”13 By publishing these summaries in the annual report and the CDQ – the

Militia’s official and unofficial organs – the Militia was attempting to influence the public and government that mechanization was necessary.

Another mechanical vehicle trial occurred in the summer of 1928, which compared two new six-wheeled medium trucks from and Thornycroft. The trucks performed well in

11Lieutenant N. G. Duckett, “Trials of Mechanical Transport Vehicles at Petawawa Camp, June 6th to 19 th , 1927,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 5 (October 1927): 79-83.

12Captain N. G. Duckett, “Recent Mechanical Transport Trials Carried Out in Canada,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 5 (July 1928): 446-53.

13DND, Report 1928, 70. 207 the trials, hauling artillery and various loads of different weights. Duckett, analyzing the trials for the CDQ, recommended both vehicles for transporting different types of artillery across roads or cross-country. He urged that six-wheeled vehicles be adopted as snow plows to more efficiently keep airports clear.14 Airports adopting the trucks would lower the production costs and, as a result, the Militia might convince Ottawa to purchase them for military use.

Encouraged by the results of those trials, the artillery became the first branch of the Militia to begin mechanization. In early 1929, the Royal Canadian Artillery’s 3rd Medium Battery received four Leyland six-wheeled trucks and a Morris six-wheeled Battery Staff car. The battery trained with these vehicles during the summer before using them to instruct the NPAM. The RCHA’s “A” and

“B” Batteries began their mechanization courses in January 1930, using the 3rd Medium Battery’s vehicles. Their battery horses were then sold or shipped off to “C” Battery in Winnipeg; this battery mechanized in 1935. Several RCHA officers left the service as a result of having to surrender their horses. Also in 1930, the NPAM’s 2nd Medium Brigade and seven field brigades received authorization to mechanize. No other artillery unit was mechanized, even on paper, until 1938.15

Mechanization allowed men to spend more time on their gunnery training, rather than learning how to handle and care for the horses. Lieutenant General Guy Simonds wrote about the impact on the Permanent Force: “Mechanization certainly improved the lot of the PF soldier, as well as enabling the Militia officer or other rank trainee to concentrate on his tactical or technical problem

14Captain N. G. Duckett, “Trials of Medium Six-Wheelers, Petawawa and Rockcliffe, August, 1928,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 6 (October 1928): 84-87.

15Mitchell, RCHA, 62; Nicholson, Gunners of Canada, 2: 15-17. 208 without at the same time having to cope with a noble but sometimes unfamiliar and reluctant mount.”16

With appetites whetted by the recent artillery experiments, two senior officers prodded CGS

Thacker to purchase tanks in late 1927. The officers were Colonel W. H. P. Elkins, a General Staff artillery officer, and Colonel Sutherland Brown, Director of Military Operations and Intelligence.

Both, in separate letters, requested the CGS consider the creation of Permanent Force and NPAM tank units. Brown argued Canadian infantry battalions needed to be trained to cooperate with tanks in peace, as the latter were needed for “a properly organized and well balanced force in war.”

Officers and NCOs from other units could be transferred to the new tank unit and sent to Great

Britain for courses of instruction. Brown suggested basing the Permanent Force unit at either Ottawa or Kingston so that the General Staff could “benefit in watching the developments and training of this unit.”17 But the Militia could not afford the experiments nor the vehicles. Thacker probably noted to Elkins and Brown, as he had to the Artillery Association in 1928 regarding mechanization trials: “While we are long in sympathy, we are short in cash.”18 Ottawa would not pay for such luxuries as tanks.

Sympathy meant that the General Staff could encourage critical thinking about mechanization. McNaughton addressed the opening of the practical portion of the Militia Staff

Course in July 1928. For that year, an armored force was added to “the story on which the lessons were based in order to bring out certain of the lessons of the greater mobility which will be a

16Mitchell, RCHA,61, 63.

17Colonel W. H. P. Elkins to CGS, October 6, 1927, fol. HQS-3352-vol.2, RG 24, vol. 2588, NAC; Colonel J. Sutherland Brown to CGS, October 8, 1927, fol. HQS-3352-vol.2, RG 24, vol. 2588, NAC.

18Nicholson, Gunners of Canada, 2: 13. 209 characteristic of future wars.” McNaughton urged the students to consider all problems in light of coordination between arms.19 This shift came a year after the Experimental Armored Force’s first trial in Britain, which showed the Canadian General Staff wanted its part-time officers to keep those lessons in mind. Major Pearkes, senior staff officer with Military District No. 11, urged his NPAM officers to examine the possibilities of motor vehicles, including motorized artillery.20 If the Militia could not afford new armored vehicles, it could at least encourage officers to think about their impact upon warfare.

Also in 1928, the General Staff surveyed twelve manufacturers of automobiles. The purpose was to see how many vehicles and what types each manufacturer could produce in a year.21 While the staff discouraged the formation of new mechanized units for want of funds and approved types, it was trying to understand Canadian industry’s capabilities to supply vehicles in the event of a war.

The NPAM also tried to encourage the General Staff to organize tank units. In early 1929, two commanding officers with cycling companies requested that their units be allowed to form one or more light tank units. Both companies were close to full peace strength and were active in training and recruitment. These two outfits were scheduled to be disbanded and their commanders preferred they be converted to armor rather than the Militia lose the personnel. “It can only be a question of time,” Majors C. S. McKee and W. A. Kyle asserted, “until the necessity of mechanization is recognized in the Militia.” McKee and Kyle contended that a tank unit would also

19McNaughton, “Opening Address to the Militia Staff Course,” July 29, 1928, NAC.

20Roy, For Most Conspicuous Bravery, 108-9.

21“Industrial Resources Automobiles: Production of Motor Cars, Trucks, Motor Cycles, and Accessories,” 1928, fol. HQ 38-72-254-1, RG 24, vol. 6293, NAC; “Industrial Resources (Mechanical Transport),” October 12, 1928, fol. HQ 38-72-254-1, RG 24, vol. 6293, NAC. 210 be a boon to recruitment. A benefactor, J. S. Rae, had already agreed to provide the proposed command with two tanks if he was named an honorary lieutenant colonel.22 The General Staff, however, felt the organization and training of such a unit involved considerable expense, even with

Rae’s gift. McNaughton informed Ralston that Military District No. 2 held too many units already, which was one reason for disbandment of the cycling companies. What was really needed, he insisted, was a review of the present situation to arrive at a proper policy of organization.

McNaughton was careful to prevent more “haphazard” growth in the NPAM.23 The Permanent Force had to provide instructional staff to the NPAM. Therefore, if this NPAM tank battalion was created, it would have required organizational changes in the understaffed Militia that went far beyond just forming it.

A similar petition arrived with the General Staff in 1934, when Lieutenant Colonel G. C.

Machum, the president of the Canadian Machine Gun Association and former commander of the 1st

Canadian Motor Machine Gun Brigade, requested that the disbanded 8th Machine Gun Battalion be reorganized as a tank battalion. He too had a ready nucleus of officers and men to form the battalion, and believed that others would join as soon as it organized. In line with the NPAM’s constant sacrifice during the interwar period, Machum estimated the only public costs for the new unit would be uniforms, training manuals, two Vickers machine guns, and ammunition for the same. He even promised the tankers would forego their pay for the first year. There was no mention of providing

22“Disbandment, Corps of Guides” memorandum, Majors C. S. McKee and W. A. Kyle, to Headquarters, Military District No. 2, February 2, 1929, fol. 420-18-68, RG24, Reel C-8261, NAC. The DOC, Brigadier General A. H. Bell, forwarded their joint memorandum and recommended the proposal. Brigadier A. H. Bell to Secretary, Department of National Defense, February 6, 1929, Ibid.

23Major General A. G. L. McNaughton to Staff Secretary, Department of National Defense, February 15, 1929, Ibid. 211 armored fighting vehicles to the new tank battalion. Even with the strong support of the district

DOC, the General Staff denied the request.24 Once again, the General Staff refused to allow the

NPAM to dictate the reorganization of the Militia; the staff would decide the character and table of organization.

To be sure, McNaughton was deeply impressed with the possibilities that mechanization offered. One of McNaughton’s first addresses after becoming CGS was to the Canadian Artillery

Association. He stated that the British Army’s Experimental Armored Force trials in 1927 and 1928 were promising but showed that new mechanical developments and types of armored fighting vehicles were necessary. McNaughton informed his audience that only mechanization could assure the infantry continuous support from machine guns and anti-tank weapons.25 At another address, this time to the United Service Institute of Ottawa, he said mechanization “tends to economy in maintenance charges; fits in with the type of experience of our people in civil life and reduced dependence on the horse which even now does not exist in sufficient quantities to meet the requirements of the older fashioned armies.” While the Militia must continue its focused training of officers, NCOs, and specialists, McNaughton urged that its leadership still think about “The effect of these new weapons of war and preparing our own minds for the new conception of tactics which they involve.” McNaughton did not want extensive re-equipment for the Militia as that would absorb desperately needed training money and the vehicles would become obsolescent quickly.

Consequently, McNaughton saw himself as an “earnest advocate of moral preparation which is

24Lieutenant Colonel G. C. Machum to DOC, Military District No.4, February 12, 1934 and June 2, 1934, fol. HQC-420-18-68, RG 24, Reel C-8261, NAC.

25“Mechanization, An Address to the Canadian Artillery Association,” February 13, 1929, fol. “13 February 1929,” McNaughton Papers, vol. 346, NAC. 212 largely thought and thought costs little.”26 What also cost little was the ink and paper to steadily advocate for mechanization. McNaughton established the General Staff’s stance on mechanization in the “Memorandum on The Land Forces of Canada, 1930.” The staff was watching the “policy, plans, experiments in construction and trials” in the United Kingdom, , and countries outside the British Empire. The staff hoped to mechanize the Militia as funds became available. In the meantime, local commercial vehicles were rented for annual training, following the practice of

Britain’s Territorial Army.27

In December 1930, McNaughton wrote to defense minister Sutherland, following the

Conservative electoral victory, to discuss the Permanent Force’s mechanization. McNaughton knew that the financial situation meant only a few vehicles could be acquired at a time. He informed

Sutherland of the General Staff’s priorities: completing the artillery’s mechanization; providing armored cars for the two cavalry regiments; and acquiring machine-gun carriers to partially mechanize the three infantry battalions’ machine-gun platoons. While McNaughton counseled the existing types of armored cars were expensive and “somewhat heavy” for Canadian conditions, he still regarded it advisable to acquire them because of the possibility of civil unrest in Canada. For carriers, McNaughton wanted to purchase twelve of the latest Carden-Loyd model from Great

Britain. The design was stable and the War Office contemplated no further alterations. Like the armored cars, McNaughton emphasized that the carriers would materially aid the Permanent Force

26“Trend of Army Development, An Address to the United Service Institute of Ottawa,” March 12, 1929, fol. “12 March 1929,” McNaughton Papers, vol. 346, NAC. McNaughton offered a new type of cavalry regiment. He suggested that they be composed of two saber squadrons and one machine-gun squadron with six-wheeled, lightly armored vehicles. Cavalry divisions would then be suitable for employment anywhere.

27“Memorandum on The Land Forces of Canada,” September, 1930, NAC. 213 if it received the call to aid the civil power.28 McNaughton realized the purchase of new vehicles could only be contemplated during the Depression by portraying their acquisition as useful to aiding the civil power.

Ottawa purchased twelve Carden-Loyd machine-gun carriers between 1930 and 1931. The

RCHA taught the General Staff-designed course to selected officers and other ranks from the

Permanent Force’s infantry battalions. The course evolved into tactical field training at Camp

Petawawa. The CDQ contained a two-page article on the carriers and their tactical employment in the October 1931 issue. Captain F. F. Worthington, the piece’s author and a participant in the course, claimed that all ranks showed a “remarkable” interest in the new vehicles.29

In late 1934, the Department of National Defense corresponded with Ford and General

Motors (Chevrolet) about supplying armored cars to the Militia for testing. The two manufacturers charged the government $2,810.74 and $2,442.00, respectively, for prototypes. The Militia annual report for 1935 foresaw the acquisition of these armored cars as a start to mechanizing the Permanent

Force’s two cavalry regiments.30

The testing of the prototypes occurred in summer 1935. Detachments from the Royal

Canadian Dragoons and Royal Canadian Artillery were present at Petawawa to train with them. The tactical training used recent British manuals as guidelines. These manuals dictated a medium

28CGS to Minister of National Defense, December 2, 1930, fol. “Sutherland, Hon D. M. 1930,” McNaughton Papers, vol. 112, NAC.

29Military Notes, Canadian Defence Quarterly 9 (October 1931): 128-30; John Marteinson & Michael R. McNorgan, The Royal Canadian Armoured Corps: An Illustrated History (Kitchener: RCAC Association, 2000), 68; Jarymowycz, Tank Tactics, 33; Larry Worthington, ‘Worthy’: A Biography of Major-General F. F. Worthington C.B. M.C. M.M. (Toronto: Macmillan, 1961), 132.

30General Motors of Canada, Limited to Deputy Minister of National Defense L. R. LaFleche, November 1, 1934 and Ford Motor Company of Canada to Deputy Minister of National Defense L. R. LaFleche, , 1934, NAC, RG 24, vol. 6294, folder HQ 38-72-261, vol.1; DND, Report 1935, 61. 214 reconnaissance role for armored cars. Their duties included: the protection of columns on the move by picketing roads in enclosed country; holding salient tactical features with open-country reconnaissance; locating and picketing an armored force; and raids. Lieutenant Colonel N. C.

Sherman rated both models as excellent, with neither clearly superior to the other. He recommended purchasing more cars for training purposes. Sadly, the government was soon shocked to discover that the cost of mass-producing the cars was much higher than obtaining prototypes. Ford, for example, priced additional cars at $9,155.39 each. The original prototypes were produced below cost in order to win a government contract.31 This meant that Ottawa would purchase no additional cars.

In 1935, National Defense revived the Master General of the Ordnance (MGO) branch by appointing Colonel A. C. Caldwell to the position. This was done in response to the growth of mechanization and developments in armaments. The MGO was charged with the research, design, and trials of all equipment, vehicles, and weapons. As part of the MGO’s revival, a Directorate of

Mechanization and Artillery was formed under Major (Acting Lieutenant Colonel) N. O. Carr. The

DND’s annual report seized on the MGO’s appointment as an opportunity to stress that the Militia desperately needed new arms and equipment. Its existing armament was “of questionable value, and in many instances is not capable of meeting modern requirements.” The report stated that

“commercial” vehicles completed the artillery’s mechanization.32 The Militia could not afford more durable, approved military types due to the extra costs involved.

31George Pearkes to Director of Equipment and Ordnance Services, April 18, 1935, and G. A. McCarter to DOC, Military District No.3, April 24, 1935, fol. HQ 38-72-261-vol.2, RG 24, vol. 6294, NAC; Memorandum “Experimental Armoured Cars,” Lt. Col. N. C. Sherman to Camp Commandant, Camp Petawawa, July 22, 1935 and August 5, 1935, fol. HQ 38-72-261-vol. 2, RG 24, vol. 6294, NAC; Ford Motor Company to Deputy Minister of National Defense L. R. LaFleche, September 7, 1935, fol. HQ 38-72-261-vol.3, RG 24, vol. 6294, NAC

32DND, Annual Report 1936 (Ottawa: King’s Printer, 1936), 87; Service Notes, Canadian Defence Quarterly 13 (April 1936): 346. 215

From 1919 to 1935, the General Staff put much thought into mechanization and its application to the Canadian Militia. It is not surprising that the early steps toward mechanization occurred under Ralston as defense minister. Throughout the period, the staff knew that a lack of money was the main problem hindering mechanization, particularly given the expense of mechanizing even a small portion of the Militia. The Militia’s dwindling horse stocks, however, meant that motor vehicles had to fill the gap. Another problem was settling on approved vehicle types. With vehicle patterns constantly changing, it was hard for the General Staff to justify lobbying for machines that would become obsolete soon after their purchase. It was equally hard for a disinterested government to approve such vehicles. McNaughton could only recommend the Carden-

Loyd once the design had stabilized. The staff was never opposed to mechanization, but it was realistic about the opportunities to design and execute a mechanization program while successive

Canadian governments continued to starve the Militia financially. This meant relying on half- measures, using civilian models, and preventing the NPAM from creating its own tank battalions when there was neither the staff nor the resources to properly train its citizen soldiers in armored warfare.

II

Articles in the CDQ cast doubt on the assertion that the Canadian officer corps was conservative in the interwar period. Throughout the interwar years, the CDQ actively encouraged mechanization. The first article on mechanization appeared in the third issue of the first volume, while the CDQ was still trying to find its format. Captain E. L. M. Burns wrote “The

Mechanicalization of Cavalry,” the first of numerous articles Burns would have published in the service journal. If Burns had been a lone voice in the wilderness, urging mechanization while his 216 peers did not, it would be easy to dismiss him. But he was not alone. While there were a number of pro-horse articles in the CDQ over the years,33 there were more on mechanization and mechanical vehicle trials, or comments on such topics in the reviews and notes sections. Historian Jamie

Hammond observed that the journal’s emphasis on mechanization increased after the RCHA began to mechanize in 1928,34 but there were numerous articles throughout the early years propagating the virtues of mechanization.

The CDQ matters because of its place as an unofficial organ of the General Staff and the opportunity that it provided. Burns, for example, commented in his memoirs that his literary profuseness in the CDQ brought him to the attention of his superiors, all but ensuring that he would be considered for senior appointments. Burns later rose to lieutenant general and commanded I

Canadian Corps in the Italian campaign in the Second World War. Another example that testifies to the journal’s importance occurred in November 1936. At the 5th Meeting of the Conference of

Defense Associations, the Standing Educational Committee presented its report about national defense and improving the “general public understanding” of defense matters. Among the

33Perhaps the most interesting pro-cavalry article printed in the CDQ was co-authored by Majors George S. Patton, Jr. and C. C. Benson, US Army, who sought to defend horse cavalry against mechanization. Many of their arguments were based on specious reasoning. They did not deny that armored fighting vehicles were useful, even formidable, but they foresaw their role as protecting cavalry against the enemy’s aircraft and vehicles. “Regardless of the progress made in the development of fighting machines,” the authors asserted, “Cavalry will always be necessary.” They concluded: “If the 14th century could adapt himself to gunpowder, we should have no fear of oil, grease, and motors.” Major G. S. Patton, Jr. and Major C. C. Benson, “Mechanization and Cavalry,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 7 (April 1930): 322-27. Lieutenant Colonel C. E. Connolly of Lord Strathcona’s Horse wrote three articles about First World War cavalry actions in the journal’s early years: Lieutenant Colonel C. E. Connolly, “Canadian Cavalry Brigade at Moreuil Wood and Rifle Wood,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 3 (October 1925): 8- 17; Lieutenant Colonel C. E. Connolly, “Cavalry Action During the German Offensive,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 4 (April 1927): 265-73; Lieutenant Colonel C. E. Connolly, “Canadian Cavalry Operations, October, 1918,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 5 (October 1927): 30-38.

34Jamie Hammond, “The Pen Before the Sword: Thinking about ‘Mechanization’ Between the Wars,” Canadian Military Journal 1 (Summer 2000): 96. 217 committee’s suggestions was increasing the CDQ’s circulation and encouraging prominent citizens to write articles on the need for military preparedness. The associations accepted the report enthusiastically.35 Within the Permanent Force and the NPAM, if not the wider country, the CDQ was the journal of record.

In 1924, Burns contended that the horse’s day was over and the time had come for

“mechanical contrivances” to carry the cavalry’s burden. The horse could not be improved upon, but vehicular development had only just begun. The idea of a mounted charge, Burns argued, had passed into obsolescence since before the South African War. Would not a mobile machine gun inspire more terror in an enemy than the sword? Burns recommended the use of cross-country, lightly armored vehicles with extra crew to serve as mounted infantry. He urged the Militia to invent, design, and experiment if it wanted such a machine. Burns ended his article with this exhortation:

“If Canada can develop, or even initiate the development of this new war machine, she will make a very valuable contribution to the strength of the Imperial Defence Forces. Our Western prairie, and the country generally, on account of its great distances, is a terrain specially suitable for mounted action, we are told. It would be appropriate for this country . . . to give birth to the new cavalry.”36

General MacBrien penned “The British Army Manoeuvres September, 1925” for the January

1926 issue. His lengthy piece reported on the “first practical test of the new organizations, establishments, theories of training and developments of arms and equipments” since the First World

War. As the Canadian Militia could not fund its own maneuvers, it was imperative for as many

35Burns, General Mud, 89; Eayrs, In Defence of Canada 1:123

36Captain E. L. M. Burns, “The Mechanicalization of Cavalry,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 1 (April 1924): 3-7. 218 officers as possible to attend them in other countries. It was equally important for officers not in attendance to learn the lessons produced by those exercises. MacBrien intended his article to provide information and an opinion to officers who could not attend the maneuvers. MacBrien’s article was the first of such articles on similar events.37

The Chief of Staff’s opinion on the maneuvers was mixed. MacBrien was not impressed with the “mechanicalized” infantry. He commented that this method of transporting foot soldiers was more useful for bringing forward reserves to already held positions. He was impressed with tanks, however, casting an eye toward the future: “When they are in larger numbers, and suitable types have been evolved, their employment will include special missions against enemy flanks and in co- operation with their own cavalry.” In his final comments, MacBrien asserted that mechanization should be pursued “progressively and gradually,” but cautioned against organizational changes until approved vehicle types were available. MacBrien was also impressed with the potential of air power and its effect upon the movement of infantry, cavalry and mechanized transport. He asserted that aircraft made cross-country mechanical transport vehicles necessary, as they would have to leave the roads to avoid being attacked.38

Captain Burns speculated on the British maneuvers’ promise of increased mobility in the next issue. His purpose was to articulate certain problems in the hopes that “those who have thought about the problems will be better able to face them than if they presented themselves entirely strange, bristling with the menace of the unknown.” Burns suggested that the way to frustrate an armored

37Major General J. H. MacBrien, “The British Army Manoeuvres September, 1925,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 3 (January 1924): 132. The 1927 US army maneuvers received far less attention in a later issue of CDQ, occupying three-quarters of a page only. “ and Army Air Corps Joint Manoeuvres, May 10th to 21st , 1927,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 4 (July 1927): 387.

38MacBrien, “British Army Manoeuvres September, 1925,” 148-50. 219 attacking force was with a mobile defense force that could block roads, mine approaches, and otherwise delay enemy tanks. Burns questioned the Fullerian tenet that armored forces could serve as modern cavalry raiders, striking at key points behind the lines, because he believed such actions did not win wars. This was particularly true if the opponent possessed equal tank forces; if held in reserve, tanks could counter any such raid. In a humorously phrased caveat, Burns observed: “The futurists have been too prone to lick their lips over the entrancing vision of an obese general in purple pyjamas being chased down a street by a malignant tank: they lose sight of the fact that even the most crimson and goldbedizened ones have a well-developed instinct of self-preservation, and will keep their reserves where they will be most useful – disposed in depth enough to meet any attack.”39 Burns’ point about facing an enemy of equal tank forces was well-founded. He challenged whether “futurists” were more concerned with fighting colonial or barely modern forces rather than a technologically advanced army.

The CDQ’s pages frequently contained information on mechanization from around the world.

Often such pieces appeared near those on horse cavalry.40 This was not always the case, however, and sometimes the journal printed standalone pro-cavalry articles or pieces. For example, the July

1926 issue squeezed in a large quotation from Field Marshal Haig that had originally appeared in the

April Veterinary Record. Haig contended that even with airplanes, tanks, and armored cars, “the need for horses in the future is likely to grow.” He insisted only cavalry could take advantage of

39Captain E. L. M. Burns, “Speculations on Increased Mobility,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 3 (April 1926): 319-23.

40In the January 1928 issue, for example, the book and magazine reviews section covered two serials. One was devoted to recent cavalry actions and developments and the other’s main subject was recent strides in military mechanization. “Book and Magazine Reviews,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 5 (January 1928): 239-59. 220 modern weapons.41 The piece appeared at the end of an article on horsemanship in the Napoleonic period and beside one on parachute training in the RCAF. The placement between those articles may have been accidental, but it is rather telling of the changes in thinking about mobility occurring during the interwar period.

The CDQ also paid attention to the British Army’s trials of armored fighting vehicles. The

July 1928 issue contained Major L. C. Goodeve’s “Mechanization.” Goodeve described the 1927 formation of the Experimental Armored Force in Great Britain, including pictures of the various vehicles mentioned. He also described the exercises the force conducted. Goodeve supported the

Militia adopting more mechanized vehicles, if just to replace horsed transport.42 The October 1929 issue contained a review of Brigadier General H. Rowan-Robinson’s Further Aspects of

Mechanization. The reviewer concentrated on the general’s negative assessment of the Experimental

Armored Force’s 1928 trials. The book claimed that tanks were not allowed to operate as they might, using their maneuverability to make wide turning movements or operate on the enemy’s communications. Instead, tank formations were obliged to make a frontal attack on prepared positions, assaulting a line of implausabily accurate guns and anti-tank weapons. When approaching infantry, the tanks had to limit their speed to four miles per hour to avoid accidents. The reviewer summarized: “[The tanks] never had a chance and many officers have consequently got the idea that

41Field-Marshal Earl Haig, “The Horse in War,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 3 (July 1926): 470.

42Major L. C. Goodeve, “Mechanization,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 5 (July 1928): 437-45. The next year, Goodeve followed up this article with another by the same title. This second essay discussed carriers for an infantry battalion’s machine guns and cavalry organization and equipment. He concluded that more trials was needed in order to find the right types of vehicles and organizations for Canada. Major L. C. Goodeve, “Mechanization,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 6 (April 1929): 342-43. 221 tanks are more vulnerable than they probably are.”43 Articles such as these were important for informing the Militia about the latest developments in military technology. With only a few officers able to observe such experiments and vehicle trials, mainly those attending courses in Great Britain, they needed to share their impressions with their comrades at home.

The CDQ followed the developments on the latest tank models. Major T. V. Scudamore introduced CDQ readers to the Vickers tank, a British design. Scudamore described the tank in detail and the latest changes in Royal Tank Corps organization. The article concluded that the Vickers, while the best tank in existence, could only be considered an experimental stop-gap. He assumed that “any civilized force” would have tanks possessing similar characteristics.44 Scudamore’s article thus echoed the General Staff’s dual posture on mechanization: hesitancy about embracing experimental designs and an awareness that the British Empire’s likely future foes would not be tribesmen or a former colony, but first-class powers. Started by Burns, this was a common theme in CDQ articles throughout the interwars years. The CDQ also reprinted Major General S. C. Peck’s

“The Evolution of Armoured Fighting Vehicles” from the Journal of the Royal Artillery. Peck was the British Army’s Director of Mechanization. Peck traced tank development in the previous three to five years. He explained that these vehicles were quickly acquiring increased capabilities with

43F. R. H., review of Further Aspects of Mechanization, by Brigadier General H. Rowan-Robinson, Canadian Defence Quarterly 7 (October 1929): 121-22.

44Major T. V. Scudamore, “The Vickers Light Tank,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 5 (April 1928): 321-24. This same issue reprinted an article from The Royal Tanks Corps Journal by Captain R. M. Jerram. Jerram covers the positions in a tank and what causes discomfort and strain on the crew, including enemy action. Captain R. M. Jerram, “The Human Element In Tanks,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 5 (April 1928): 353-57. 222 each new type. Supplemented by graphic photographs, this article gave Canadian officers important information on the British mechanization program.45

Major F. R. Henshaw’s “The Employment of Tanks” critically examined the views contained in the Field Service Regulations on the proper employment of armored vehicles and their counterpoints. He asserted that tanks were unsuitable to conduct reconnaissance because of their comparative blindness and deafness, as well as their inability to cross major obstacles. He predicted cavalry, supported by light tanks and assisted by armored cars and aircraft, could conduct most tactical reconnaissance. The primary duty of tanks in the British Army was infantry support.

Henshaw disputed that tanks could conduct independent missions, even ones supported by cavalry or armored cars. He criticized those “fast thinkers whose brains outstrip their common sense” who envisaged an armored force operating independently at a rate of one hundred miles per day, supported by supply-laden cargo airplanes. The most decisive role for tanks, according to Henshaw, was with the general reserve. Once cavalry had found the enemy, and the infantry fixed him in place, tanks could deliver a decisive attack. Tanks could then pursue the enemy.46 Henshaw, while more conservative than Burns, demonstrated that there were other officers analyzing the development and future of tanks. He rejected Fuller’s doctrine for a conservative view based on the vehicles that existed in the late 1920s.

If the CDQ attempted to convince cavalrymen in Canada that armored cars and tanks were the future, then two articles by Lieutenant Colonel H. V. S. Charrington were part of that effort.

45Major General S. C. Peck, “The Evolution of Armoured Fighting Vehicles,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 7 (January 1930): 155-74.

46Major F. R. Henshaw, “The Employment of Tanks,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 7 (April 1930): 353- 58. 223

Charrington commanded the 12th Royal Lancers (Prince of Wales). In “The Employment of

Cavalry,” a lecture given at the Camberley Staff College and reprinted in the April 1931 CDQ,

Charrington insisted horse cavalry was still necessary for reconnaissance and pursuit. Horses were essential in areas impassable by tanks, which Charrington claimed was most of Western Europe. The next issue contained Charrington’s “Experiences of a Mechanized Cavalryman.” The lancers converted to an armored car regiment in March 1928. The bulk of the article described the regiment’s experiences during the process. The regiment’s main problems were the Rolls Royce armored cars’ defects for cross-country operations and accurate shooting on the move. Charrington wished the lancers had their horses again, but “It is impossible to arrest the march of progress and

. . . we may one day look back on our mechanization as a very fortunate page in the history of the

Regiment.” Charrington admitted that mechanical training and experience placed a soldier in good stead when he returned to civilian life. He further conceded: “The moral and physical deterioration which some pessimists prophesied when the order to mechanize was first received has certainly not begun to set in yet.”47 The timing of these articles was interesting, as the second one was based on events of three years earlier and coming not long after McNaughton was pressuring Ottawa to acquire the latest armored cars to being the cavalry’s conversion to armored cars. The editor’s goal with the second article may have been to comfort any Canadian officers worried about their cavalry regiment being mechanized in the future.

The editorial comment on Captain G. R. Fornerett’s “Prepare to Mount,” from the April 1932 issue, supports the theory that the CDQ favored the converting of cavalry regiments to armored cars.

47Lieutenant Colonel H. V. S. Charrington, “The Employment of Cavalry,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 8 (April 1931): 367-69; Lieutenant Colonel H. V. S. Charrington, “Experiences of a Mechanized Cavalryman,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 8 (July 1931): 498-503. 224

Fornerett, an officer in the NPAM’s 2nd Dragoons, claimed armored fighting vehicles would not be available in sufficient numbers in the opening stages of a conflict. Therefore, the Militia needed ample horse cavalry regiments. Once vehicles became available, cavalry personnel could be absorbed by mechanized units. In his mind, Canada was cavalry country, and that made it a tremendous military asset to the Empire. Fornerett wanted more training in spring and winter and with swords and automatic weapons. Finally, he urged: “Let us not disparage the actual in favour of the theoretical. Let us not become inept in handling what we have, while becoming proficient in theory with what we’d like to have.”48

In a lengthy editorial comment, the editor (Lieutenant Colonel Ken Stuart) addressed many of Fornerett’s points. The editorial agreed that sufficient numbers of armored fighting vehicles would not be available in the opening stages of a war. It, however, disagreed that this defect could be corrected by increasing Canada’s horse cavalry arm. Stuart estimated that 50 percent of NPAM cavalry regiments could convert to mechanized formations. These regiments would have to use unarmored, civilian vehicles to train in a cavalry regiment’s various roles. The other 50 percent should remain mounted because horses were reckoned better in certain types of close reconnaissance and could function in roadless theaters of war. But, Stuart pointed out, such areas grew fewer and fewer with each passing year. Stuart asserted the armored car could restore cavalry to “the proud position” it held prior to the advent of the magazine rifle. He also dismissed the claim that Canada was cavalry country, given its terrain and predominant breed of heavy draft horse that was unsuitable for mounted warfare. With training budgets decreasing and a dearth of authorized camp training, cavalry was affected more than other services because its personnel could only attain proficiency at

48Captain G. R. Fornerett, “Prepare to Mount,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 9 (April 1932): 389-92. 225 camp. Armored car regiments could use the meager funds available to train with privately owned cars at limited cost and could better profit from local headquarters training. Admittedly influenced by J. F. C. Fuller’s The Dragon’s Teeth (1932), Stuart urged that Canadian officers “begin to divorce our military thought from many of the worn-out traditions and customs of the dim and mouldy past.”49 Stuart, through the CDQ, clearly supported mechanization, brushing aside the horse as the dominating figure in cavalry.

While Stuart was careful to distinguish that his beliefs were not those of the General Staff, at the time he was an intelligence officer with National Defense Headquarters. Once he left that position in 1934, he moved into a key staff position at Canada’s Royal Military College. There he divided his time between delivering the Staff College Preparatory Course and educating RMC cadets.

Indeed, he was instrumental in reforming RMC curriculum with the blessing of the commandant,

Brigadier H. H. Matthews (Stuart’s predecessor at the CDQ). In the fall of 1938, Colonel Stuart returned to the General Staff as Director of Military Operations and Intelligence. During the Second

World War, Stuart’s career continued its skyward trajectory; he became CGS in 1941. Matthews also enjoyed career success after his editorialship, rising to become adjutant general before his death in 1940.50 Stuart’s career was not that of a military maverick who embarrassed the General Staff with impertinent statements about mechanization and the demise of the horse. If McNaughton

49Editorial, Canadian Defence Quarterly 9 (April 1932): 304-6.

50Ibid.; Granatstein, Generals, 220-22. 226 opposed mechanization as Schreiber claimed, then he easily could have hindered Stuart’s and

Matthew’s careers.51

Another Stuart innovation with the CDQ was the creation of an annual essay competition.

This allowed the editorial board to focus on particular issues. The 1932 competition asked writers to comment on mechanization’s influence on the NPAM’s organization and training. The journal published the three best essays in its July and October 1933 issues. Major W. J. Baird of the York

Rangers and Lieutenant W. Wallace Goforth of the 17th Duke of York’s Royal Canadian Hussars shared the annual prize for the NPAM, while Lieutenant Colonel H. F. G. Letson won for the

Permanent Force.

Baird’s essay traced the history of mechanization in the British Army, including the

Experimental Armored Force’s trials. He also discussed the Permanent Force’s steps toward mechanization. Baird wanted the Machine Gun Corps to convert into a Light Tank Corps. Baird contended that the expense of medium tanks precluded Canada purchasing any; five light tanks could be purchased for the cost of one medium tank. He suggested that all cavalry units should add a scout troop of light cars, whereas some would become armored car units.52

Goforth proposed Canada concentrate on acquiring armored cars. He imagined a larger role for them than reconnaissance and screening troop movements. They could serve as a mobile reserve

51When McNaughton’s ire was in full bloom, he could effectively end an officer’s career, as he did with Brigadier James Sutherland Brown. He ensured that Brown’s evaluations rated him merely as adequate, an unfair rating, and that he was not fit to rise above his posting as a DOC. Brown retired as a result. Ironically, both Stuart and Matthews served under Brown on separate occasions. Brown favored mechanization, even befriending British mechanization advocate Basil H. Liddell Hart while in London attending the Imperial Defence College in 1928. Brown, Buster, 129, 147, 168.

52Major W. J. Baird, “The Influence of Mechanization and Motorization on the Organization and Training of the Non-Permanent Active Militia,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 10 (July 1933): 405-30. 227 to check and frustrate the enemy and to connect disparate defensive lines. Goforth recommended the Permanent Force purchase limited numbers of each type of mechanized vehicle and anti-tank weapon used by the British Army. These arms would solve the “unreality” surrounding any officer’s attempt to grasp the “true significance of modern mechanized formations and their influence on his own arm of the service.” Finally, both the Permanent Force and NPAM should convert as many cavalry regiments to armored cars as possible.53 Goforth advocated that the Militia adopt its own mechanization practices, splitting from those of the British Army.

Colonel Letson indicated that the Militia should reflect on the fact that Canada was daily becoming more mechanized. He too urged the cavalry convert to armored cars. Training could be conducted with privately owned cars at no expense to the public. Indeed, Letson asserted that “The time is past when a volunteer cavalryman (in the cities at least) can furnish his own mount, but as the years go on there is increasing possibility of him being able to present himself to the recruiting officer complete with some form of motor vehicle.” Even in an article on the theoretical composition of Canadian units, Letson imagined that the government would still neglect them. Machine-gun battalions would be the first branch to mechanize using the relatively inexpensive Carden-Loyd carriers. Finally, Letson suggested the creation of a “Militia Staff Course (Mechanization),” based on the operations of mechanized forces.54

53Lieutenant W. Wallace Goforth, “The Influence of Mechanization and Motorization on the Organization and Training of the Non-Permanent Active Militia,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 10 (July 1933): 431-54. Lieutenant Goforth would rise to the rank of colonel and be director of staff duties and Army Headquarters by the end of the Second World War. Harris, “Canadian Way of War,” 206.

54Letson, “The Influence of Mechanization,” 16-38. Lieutenant Colonel Letson was adjutant general from 1942 to 1944. Harris, “Canadian Way of War,” 206. 228

What message did the CDQ editorial board try to convey by choosing these three essays?

First and foremost, that mechanization should begin, in a limited fashion, as soon as possible. All three essayists viewed the process as inevitable. They argued that the sooner the Militia adopted mechanization, the better prepared it would be to defend Canada. The acquisition of a few types of vehicles would start the process and enhance military instruction. Baird, Goforth, and Letson each wanted the Militia to adopt armored cars in some fashion. The Militia would not only gain a useful service for any future war, but also a powerful recruiting tool. If armored cars could not be purchased at a reasonable expense, then civilian automobiles could be adopted until wartime prompted the acquisition of purely military types. More than just urging mechanization, all three essays advocated adopting a Canadian way of war based on light forces and mobile operations.

Major E. L. M. Burns’ “A Step Towards Modernization” was the highlight of the April 1935 issue. Burns, reflecting on the reality of motorization in Canada, stated: “There are well over a million motor-cars in Canada. . . . still, with little exception, [the Militia is] thinking about the operations of war in terms of the mobility of the foot-soldier – 2 ½ miles per hour.” As Burns had before, and similar to the CDQ’s three prize-winning essayists, he invoked the writings of J. F. C.

Fuller. In particular, Burns dwelt on Fuller’s ideas about “motor-guerillas.” These mobile forces

– essentially the new cavalry – sought the enemy, picketed bridges and tactical points, blocked roads, and cleared the area of advance for the rest of the army. Burns advocated the inclusion of motorized troops in all Militia exercises, lest “the lessons taught will bear little relation to the course which operations would really take, even in a war between armies organized on the current models.”

Experiments and practice had to be conducted to find out the possibilities of motor troops. He wrote:

“In Canada, we have no soldier trained in the operation of what responsible military opinion 229 recognizes as the potentially most powerful arm of the service – and what is even more serious, no officer trained in the command of this arm. . . . A 2 ½ mile an hour soldier in a 60 mile an hour age is an anachronism. And nothing can be so costly as a military anachronism.”55 Burns did not suggest that Canada procure a large and expensive armored vehicle force, but, like the essayists, he felt new training and equipment could solve many problems.

These articles demonstrated that Canadians were thinking about mechanization. The CDQ made efforts to ensure that both articles on mechanization and in support of horse cavalry were published. More of the former, an indication of the editorial board’s slant, was reinforced by the

1932 essay competition. As Jamie Hammond commented, referencing Baird and Goforth:

“While both these articles, as with most writings in CDQ, are based on British military thought and doctrine, they show that specific Canadian approaches to the issues of mechanization were being considered in spite of the near total absence of the physical equipment. . . . [The] CDQ in its educational role provided many officers with a vehicle to expand their tactical horizons during peacetime.”56 That vehicle, however, was not the tank. Canadian mechanization advocates emphasized armored cars more than tanks and urged acquiring cheaper civilian vehicles instead of military types that might become obsolete soon after purchase. These two trends were intertwined, as there were obviously few civilian vehicles that could replicate the experience of a tank effectively.

The government’s parsimony had infiltrated the Militia’s thinking about the proper choice of armored fighting vehicles.

55Major E. L. M. Burns, “A Step Towards Modernization,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 12 (April 1935): 298-305.

56Hammond, “The Pen before the Sword,” 98, 101. 230

III

Throughout the MacBrien, Thacker, and McNaughton years, the Canadian Militia slowly began the mechanization process, critically analyzing this change every step of the way. The

Militia’s financial situation meant it could only experiment with mechanization through the benevolence of manufacturers or by half-measures. The mechanization process in these years amounted to a limited number of six-wheeled trucks, a few staff cars, twelve Carden-Loyd machine- gun carriers, and two armored cars. It was hardly an inspiring amount of progress. The Militia had to await finalized designs, like the Carden-Loyds, or use civilian models because it could not afford to be constantly replacing obsolete vehicles.

The Canadian Militia’s limited steps toward mechanization saved it, unlike its British or

American counterparts, from the internecine struggles between cavalry tanks and infantry tanks. Not being able to purchase either type or more than two armored cars meant that the Militia could await the outcomes of the British Army’s organizational changes.57 There is little doubt that both armored car and tank units were attractive to Canadians. Under the Militia’s second reorganization, armored cars were assigned to the cavalry and tanks to the infantry. The only “spiritual rows” were those typical of cavalry units forced to give up their horses.

The CDQ demonstrated that many Canadian officers were proponents of mechanization.

While the journal printed articles by horse cavalry proponents, its editor, either Matthews or Stuart, clearly favored mechanization. Cross-country vehicle types were not sufficiently advanced that a horse’s mobility over difficult terrain could be easily forgotten by military theorists. As one CDQ article indicated, it was sometimes hard for Canadian officers to consider the possibilities and impact

57Jarymowycz, Tank Tactics, 34. 231 of mobile warfare. Adopting the pseudonym of “Infanteer,” the author wrote: “For many of us whose actual war experience is confined to position warfare, this role [mobile warfare] may be difficult to visualize.”58 Other authors assumed that a future war would still be positional, but also with mechanized and mobile forces to seize and maneuver around entrenched positions. “Mechanization was,” Jamie Hammond commented, “seen as a solution to the problems of 1917 and most applications of armoured thought were seen through that lens.”59 It is to the Militia’s credit that many officers assumed a prominent place for armored fighting vehicles in that future war. The CDQ furthered McNaughton’s premise that thinking cost the Militia little but provided immense benefits in the long run. In the interwar period, there was little else the Militia could afford besides thought.

58Infanteer, “The Role of the Infantry,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 10 (January 1933): 228.

59Hammond, “The Pen before the Sword,” 99. 232

CHAPTER NINE:

GETTING THE OBJECTIVE RIGHT:

THE SECOND REORGANIZATION, 1935-1937

The Otter Committee gave the Militia an unrealistic table of organization that encompassed eleven infantry and four cavalry divisions. The committee decided that the United States still posed a potential threat to Canada, providing the reasoning for a large force. Furthermore, without guidance from the government, the General Staff began preparing mobilization schemes to cover defensive contingencies. The first of these contingencies was Defense Scheme No. 1, which envisioned war with the United States. Colonel James Sutherland Brown designed the scheme in

1920 and 1921, even leading reconnaissance missions on American soil. As the 1920s wore on, several officers began to question the projected size of the Militia. These officers acknowledged that the strategic conditions underlying the committee’s assumptions had changed. After various political and international agreements involving the United States and Canada, Canadians, including most of the General Staff, no longer saw the United States as a threat.

As the Militia’s bloated organizational structure was never close to complete, particularly artillery and support units, it was evident that change was needed. General McNaughton laid out his plan to trim the Militia to six infantry divisions and one cavalry division in 1931. Ottawa formally approved the Militia’s reduction as part of the League of Nation’s Disarmament Conference the following year. This reorganization was delayed until 1935. After the Liberals won office that year, the new Chief of the General Staff, Major General E. C. Ashton, received approval to carry out the reorganization. Throughout the next year, the General Staff worked out a plan to reduce the Militia. 233

The reorganization was completed by December 15, 1936. Appropriately, mechanization was an important issue that the General Staff considered in its deliberations.

I

The Otter Committee imagined that a war with the United States was possible despite a half century of peace along the border. The committee foresaw that Canada’s problem in such a war would be rapidly mobilizing as large a force as possible to defend essential communications in

Canada pending the arrival of Imperial forces. The committee conducted a detailed study of

Canada’s manpower and concluded that in a war conducted on Canadian territory, Canada could raise fifteen divisions with additional ancillary units and formations. The committee realized that an army of this size could not be fully recruited and would lack equipment for a number of years.

Nevertheless, the Militia assumed this new table of organization.1

From 1920 to 1927, Colonel Sutherland Brown was the Director of Military Operations and

Intelligence (D.M.O. & I.). His primary duty was the creation of defense plans. In 1920, the Imperial

General Staff saw four possible sources of danger to the Empire: (1) a combination of European powers; (2) the United States; (3) Japan; and, (4) a combination of the first three. Brown reasoned that the hierarchy of threats to Canada was: the United States; a combination of European powers, the United States, or Japan; and Japan itself. He drew up defense plans for each of these scenarios.

Defense Scheme No.1 covered war with the United States. Defense Scheme No. 2 was premised on

Canada having to protect its neutrality in a war between Japan and the United States. Defense

1“Memorandum on the Reorganization of the Non-Permanent Active Militia,” January 29, 1931, fol. “958C.009 (D218) Folder 3,” General H. D. G. Crerar Papers, MG 30 E157, vol. 11, NAC. 234

Scheme No. 3 involved dispatching an expeditionary force to aid the British Empire.2 Brown paid little attention to the last two schemes.

Between December 1920 and April 1921, Brown prepared Defense Scheme No. 1. Canadian intelligence officers stationed along the American border reconnoitered the United States. Brown himself went on several “tours” of northern states. All of the officers dressed in civilian clothes and used private vehicles. Most of the secret reports had appended pages of road maps and photographs.

The reports also contained social and political observations, such as attacks on “American chauvinism.” Despite such extraneous information, these reports were the blueprints for an invasion of the United States. They mapped defensive positions, lateral communications and routes to the frontiers, and compiled a list of information on American transportation and military facilities.3

The 190-page scheme advocated offensive forays into American territory. Brown judged that

Canada required defensive depth, given the proximity of its vital points to the border. To gain depth, offensives were designed to divert the United States from an invasion of Canada’s Toronto-Ottawa-

Montreal heartland. Canadian forces were to occupy such objectives as , Seattle, Fargo,

Minneapolis, Albany, and bridgeheads along the Niagara and Detroit frontiers. Brown wanted munitions and stores for fifteen divisions because he realized that a war with the United States would allow no gradual build-up and rearmament. In order to delay the US Army long enough for imperial reinforcements to arrive, or to prevent an American invasion, Canada needed trained men and a surplus of equipment to fight immediately after war was declared. Canada’s success required quicker

2Colonel H. D. G. Crerar Memorandum, May 15, 1931, fol. HQS-3497, RG 24, vol. 2643, NAC; Preston, Defense of the Undefended Border, 215.

3Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 1: 71; Elliot, Scarlet to Green, 57; Charles Taylor, Six Journeys: A Canadian Pattern (Toronto: Anasi, 1977), 5-7, 17. 235 mobilization than the United States with Canadian forces being immediately dispatched into the

United States on the declaration of war.4

Only the commanding officers of military districts were privy to Defense Scheme No. 1.

Brown ordered them not to divulge its existence to anyone, except verbally or in very secret letters where select parts could be discussed. Eventually, senior staff officers received permission to view the plans, but under the same secrecy restrictions. In 1923, Brown sought criticisms from the eleven military district commanders. Most were enamored with Brown’s plan. Only the commander of district No. 4 complained that the greatest problem with the scheme was that it relied on nonexistent troops.5

After the Washington Naval Conference of 1921-22, Brown decided the improved Anglo-

American relationship meant the scheme had to be kept secret. Nonetheless, he still saw the United

States as a potential threat and continued his reconnaissance into 1923. Brown’s missions were approved by the General Staff but not its civilian masters. As King’s government believed no threat to Canada existed, it certainly would not have supported such a plan. Indeed, Cabinet provided no direction for information-gathering for either foreign or military policy. Historian James Eayrs has asserted: “It is almost certain that no Canadian Prime Minister ever read Defense Scheme No. 1, and not unlikely that none knew of its existence.”6

4Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 1: 71-72, 324, 328; Harris, “Canadian Way of War,” 204; Taylor, Six Journeys, 17-19.

5Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 1: 73-75. Of course, the fear that a North American neighbor might pose a threat was not Canada’s alone. The United States, in the interwar years, developed its “Rainbow” Plans for the national defense. The color Red was reserved for Britain, usually including Canada, and Crimson was for Canada itself. Stacey, Canada and the Age of Conflict, 2: 157.

6Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 1: 72-73; Elliot, Scarlet to Green, 65; Taylor, Six Journeys, 8. Also as a result of Washington Conference, Defense Scheme No. 2 was shelved. Brown, Buster, 117. 236

The idea that the United States posed a military threat to Canada ran counter to the central assumption of Canadian foreign policy and the suppositions of many in the military establishment.

Admiral Lord Jellicoe, the British who commanded at the Battle of Jutland during the First

World War, held a similar view when he reviewed Canada’s defensive needs in 1919. He explained the Royal Navy considered the possibility of war between the Empire and the United States as so remote that it did not warrant consideration. In the CDQ’s first issue, the authors of the air force section completely dismissed any such possibility.7

With Defense Scheme No. 1 based on fifteen divisions, but only the equipment for five divisions, was the General Staff serious about the scheme? By 1923, General McNaughton tried to convince MacBrien that he should be content if the Militia had enough equipment to outfit one infantry division, one cavalry brigade, and one artillery brigade. Brown, on the other hand, wanted

MacBrien to put the matter before the government to decide on the proper organization and basis for the Militia. This matched Brown’s CDQ article on military policy. Brown did not want the General

Staff to be responsible for an improper organization or the lack of munitions and equipment.

MacBrien, however, never asked the government to decide the matter on the fifteen-division organization.8

Only later in the decade did the other defense schemes receive attention. In January 1927,

MacBrien wrote his “Defence Forces of Canada” memorandum. He recommended the reduction of the Militia’s table of organization to eleven divisions, but no mention of how many infantry and

7Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 1: 75; Preston, Defense of the Undefended Border, 216.

8Brigadier Andrew McNaughton to CGS, “Provision of Equipment for Canadian Militia,” September 21, 1923, fol. HQS-4530-vol.1, RG 24, vol. 2679, NAC; Harris, “Canadian Way of War,” 202-4. 237 cavalry divisions. By this point, MacBrien had developed considerable bitterness and he possibly realized his recommendations would not make a difference. He further requested that the Militia be armed and trained along modern lines, including tanks.9 Afterward, MacBrien instructed Brown to prepare plans for the mobilization of an expeditionary force composed of an infantry division, a cavalry brigade, a medium artillery brigade, a RCAF Army co-operation squadron, and appropriate ancillary troops. This force was significantly smaller than the Otter Committee’s proposed expeditionary force of six infantry divisions and one cavalry division, but was basically the force that

McNaughton had earlier advocated. MacBrien approved the basic outline of Defense Scheme No.3 before he retired in June 1927. Some details were still not worked out when Brown left the D.M.O.

& I. office that December.10 While MacBrien had closely tied ideas about the Militia’s reorganization, modernization, and defense schemes before he retired, he did not connect them together as part of one overall design for the Militia’s future.

The new CGS, General Thacker, examined Defense Scheme No. 3 in 1928. He altered the scheme, increasing the size of the force to a corps of two infantry divisions, one cavalry division, and ancillary troops. On the other hand, Thacker and his D.M.O. & I., Colonel H. H. Matthews, ignored

Defense Scheme No. 1. The early scheme was neither rescinded nor kept up to date. In July 1928 the officer commanding Military District No. 10 questioned Matthews on what was to be done with that scheme. Matthews replied that it was best to leave the matter alone for the time being, it was

9Major General MacBrien, “Defence Forces of Canada,” January 22, 1927, NAC.

10Major General E. C. Ashton, Quartermaster General, to District Officers Commanding, Military Districts, “Mobilization Equipment,” October 14, 1927, fol. HQS-4530-vol.1, RG 24, vol. 2679, NAC; Director of Military Operations and Intelligence (Colonel H. H. Matthews) to Chief of the General Staff (Major General A. G. L. McNaughton), January 23, 1930, fol. HQS-3498-vol.1, RG 24, vol. 2643, NAC; Brown, Buster, 117. 238 antiquated and needed to be rewritten. With the pressure to prepare an expeditionary force plan, he could not devote the time to redraft Defense Scheme No. 1.11

When General McNaughton became CGS on January 1, 1929, he inquired about the status of Defense Scheme No. 1. Matthews related that Thacker had stated that the scheme was to be left alone as it was “chimerical.” Furthermore, like Brown, Thacker believed Ottawa should decide upon a policy determining the considerations and provisions for the direct defense of Canada.12

McNaughton cancelled it in May 1931. In October 1933, months after its creator, Brown, had retired, McNaughton ordered the district commanders to burn their copies.13

In January 1931, the General Staff submitted a memorandum to the government on reorganizing the NPAM. The staff listed three reasonably definite aspects of the international arena: the improbability of a major European war for at least ten years, the United States’ rise as a first-class world power, and the danger posed by the apparent Japanese intentions to dominate the Pacific.

These aspects implied a shift of strategic importance from Europe to the Pacific which meant, according to the staff, the Militia’s organization should be premised on the direct defense of Canada.

The staff contended that the organization sorely lacked tanks, armored cars, all types of artillery and engineer units, and units and formations in the Army Service Corps. In addition, the Militia’s fighting power suffered from the increasing obsolescence of its stock of arms, ammunition, and

11Matthews to McNaughton, January 23, 1930, NAC; Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 1: 76.

12Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 1: 76-77.

13 Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 1: 76-77, 85; Taylor, Six Journeys, 22. 239 equipment. The staff believed that unless more of the national revenue was applied to direct defense, then the Militia’s defensive capabilities would steadily diminish.14

The General Staff believed that there was no reason to fear the United States as long as

“existing political understandings continue.” The latter referred to Canada’s place in the British

Empire, various treaties, the League of Nations, and the Kellogg-Briand Pact. The Militia’s table of organization was therefore anachronistic: “At the termination of the Great War a resort to arms against the United States in defence of vital Canadian interests was a possible solution to an international problem. Certain factors, however, on which such military action was based, either failed to materialize or ceased to exist. . . . [T]he Militia, in its present state of organization, is a totally inadequate answer to a question which is no longer of practical importance.”15

The General Staff then laid out its opinion on Canada’s current defense problems. Even though tensions between America and Japan were eased by the Washington Naval Conference of

1921-22, their history of “misunderstandings and distrusts” did not lend itself to continued stability.

In particular, Japan’s ambitions in China and demands for territorial and commercial expansion were antithetical to American interests. As a result, a war between the United States and Japan was a contingency that had to be faced. Canada’s position made it susceptible to charges of non-neutrality by either side in such a war. Canada was liable to need to defend its frontiers as an alternative to active participation. The situation in 1931 Europe was even more grave. A host of “isms” threatened the continent with another general war as no country was generally satisfied with the settlement of the First World War. As memories of the Great War grew dim, the probabilities of war increased.

14“Memorandum on the Reorganization of the Non-Permanent Active Militia,” January 29, 1931, NAC.

15Ibid. 240

Yet in the General Staff’s opinion, Britain could be expected to act to neutralize or destroy any menace that threatened its security. Any significant past threat to the Empire had resulted in public support for military action by Canadian forces. The General Staff thus advised:

The greatest military liability facing Canada today is the necessity of taking part in another overseas war in defence of Empire security. And it is one which will continue in the forefront until the stresses and strains in the European structure, as fashioned by the Treaty of Versailles, have been relieved by adjustment, if not by collapse, of the structure itself. Not so obvious, but of really vital importance, is another military problem – the necessity of Canada being able to defend her claim to neutrality in the event of a war between Japan and the United States. And though these two problems are distinct from one another, they have one feature in common. The requirements of either situation call for the rapid mobilization and concentration of a force, not large, perhaps, in comparison to the maximum possibilities of Canadian man-power, but equipped and organized on thoroughly modern lines [emphasis added].16

Therefore, the General Staff recommended a new table of organization based on the Otter

Committee’s expeditionary force of six infantry divisions and one cavalry division. This new table required disbanding or converting 51 infantry battalions, 23 cavalry regiments, and 12 machine-gun battalions. Similarly, 75 batteries of artillery of various types, 16 engineer companies, six tank battalions, two armored car regiments, and certain ordnance troops needed to be organized.

Reorganization was thus prefaced on the recognition that the United States was no longer a threat and that a quickly mobilized modern force, possibly for overseas use, was more important to

Canada’s defense. In this one document, McNaughton and the General Staff linked the Militia’s future to reorganization, modernization, and new defense schemes.

McNaughton sought approval for his reorganization in a roundabout way. The prime minister created an inter-departmental committee to examine Canada’s participation in the League of Nations

16Ibid. 241

Disarmament Conference, scheduled to meet at Geneva in February 1932. Its members were Dr. O.

D. Skelton, Undersecretary of State for External Affairs, McNaughton for the Militia, and

Commodore Hose for the RCN. Their recommendations to the Canadian delegation were presented to the prime minister in January 1932. McNaughton’s section of the report again raised the question of reducing the Militia to seven divisions. He wrote: “No useful purpose is served by the present larger establishment. It has led to heavy overhead expenditure out of proportion to effective strength and to weak units which are not properly exercised. There is a positive military advantage to be gained by this reduction.”17 The committee approved McNaughton’s seven-division figure and it was presented at the conference as official Canadian policy. The conference ended in July 1932 after

France and Germany’s intransigence prevented substantial accomplishments. McNaughton observed later that the government had approved a “definite objective” for the Militia. The reorganization scheme was further approved in June and July 1933 by the Privy Council. The seven-division figure was also submitted to the Canadian delegation at another disarmament conference in September

1933, and press releases were issued.18 Reducing the Militia was now government policy.

II

The General Staff began the process of reorganizing the Militia soon after the 1932

Disarmament Conference ended. McNaughton wanted the decision to reform the Militia held secret until the details of converting or disbanding surplus units was worked out and approved. He worried

17McNaughton, “Defence of Canada,” May 28, 1935, NAC.

18Minutes of the Canadian Infantry Association Third Annual Meeting, Ottawa, January 26-27, 1934, fol. McN (M) 88, McNaughton Papers, vol. 16, NAC; McNaughton, “Defence of Canada,” May 28, 1935, NAC; Lieutenant Colonel H. D. G. Crerar, for CGS, to Minister of National Defense, March 1, 1937, fol. D-2, Mackenzie Papers, vol. 37, NAC. 242 that the NPAM’s premature knowledge might lead to “unnecessary” difficulties.19 McNaughton decided the possibility of negative and very public consequences necessitated NPAM approval of the Militia’s reorganization before forging ahead. To that end, he sought support from the NPAM’s service associations. The service associations formed a convenient forum for McNaughton to use since they became a collective body called the Conference of Defense Associations (CDA) in

November 1932.20 With the NPAM’s support, the real process of reorganizing the Militia began.

One of the unofficial interwar duties of NPAM officers was to plead the Militia’s case to

Parliament and the public. At the 1925 Canadian Infantry Association meeting, defense minister

Macdonald explained he could not increase the Militia’s budget without help from the service associations to pressure MPs. The association’s president, Brigadier G. E. McCuaig, wrote to all infantry battalion commanders and requested that they lobby their local MPs. Former minister

Mewburn suggested the same in his 1926 speech. Twice that year, an Infantry Association delegation met with Macdonald regarding an increase to training votes. The delegates were optimistic for their success but political turmoil that year resulted in no increase. Also in 1926, the Canadian Cavalry

Association endorsed a plan to form a lobbying committee composed of all service association presidents to educate the public and Parliament on the Militia’s needs. Four years later, the Infantry,

Cavalry, Machine Gun Corps, Artillery, and Canadian Signals associations all agreed to form a united group. The first meeting of the new association did not convene until November 1932.21

19“Memorandum on the Reorganization of the Non-Permanent Active Militia,” January 29, 1931, NAC.

20Morrison, Voice of Defence, 1, 48.

21Ibid., 32-36. Certainly, the Permanent Force also aided in lobbying politicians and the public at the local level. For example, Brown, when DOC of Military District No. 11 made a habit of receiving, calling on and speaking with provincial politicians, mayors, and church and business leaders to discuss the Militia and its needs. He also sought out wealthy men to serve as honorary colonels or lieutenant colonels for the regiments of his district, 243

McNaughton addressed the CDA on the need for reorganization at its first meeting. He discussed the costs involved with the large size of the current organization. Lieutenant Colonel

George A. Drew, the CDA’s chairman, echoed his comments. Drew railed against the appalling conditions the Militia worked under. He suggested forwarding definite recommendations to the defense minister, including a lobbying committee.22 The CDA debated the distribution of the

Militia’s budget, conversion of units, preservation of regiments, absorption of officers from dissolved units, assignment of commanders and staff to NPAM formations, and the perpetuation of units and titles. Drew offered a resolution into the record that passed unanimously. It stated:

That in the opinion of the Officers present at this Conference of all branches of the Non-Permanent Defence Forces of Canada, the present organization of the Active Militia is wasteful in men and money, and is not capable of efficiently fulfilling the purpose for which it exists. It is strongly urged that the Department of National Defence consider the advisability of reorganization upon the basis of a survey of the present requirements of the Canadian Defence Forces by the National Defence Council.23

Defense minister Sutherland downplayed many of the CDA’s ideas. He rejected the idea of a lobbying committee because he feared it would return politics to officer selection and that trifling matters would take up most of its time. He also suggested that lobbying individual MPs was of little use. Privately, Sutherland warned McNaughton against making too blatant an attempt to influence policy through the CDA. Despite the minister’s rejection of their ideas, the CDA was a landmark step by the Militia, because NPAM officers were taken into the confidence of the General Staff.

With the past antagonism between the Permanent Force and NPAM, it was hoped by all that the

recruiting at least four during his tenure between 1929 and 1933. Brown, Buster, 134, 137.

22Morrison, Voice of Defence, 6-8.

23“Precis Minutes of Meeting of Conference of Defence Associations, Chateau Laurier, Ottawa, November 18-19, 1932,” fol. HQS-5902-vol.1, RG 24, vol. 2740, NAC. 244 common good would take precedence. By taking the reorganization plan to the CDA, who saw it before the majority of Permanent Force officers, McNaughton hoped to lessen any potential resistance to the plan from the NPAM. Military district officers were not consulted on the reorganization plan until February 1933. In later years, the CDA believed that the 1936 reorganization was a result of its initiative.24

A May 1933 Joint Staff Committee memorandum spoke of the reorganization as having been commenced, with the Militia’s new size set at six infantry divisions, a cavalry division, and ancillary troops. The memorandum conceded the new force was not yet properly organized due to financial restrictions.25 Late in the year, each military district commanding officer organized meetings with select officers to obtain their opinions on reorganization. There was some wariness but all districts were in favor. Brigadier General W. Gibsone of Military District No.4 expressed concern that the infantry battalions to be converted to tanks should wait until the appropriate accommodations and equipment were available. He worried that efficiency would suffer and cause discontent and political repercussions. Brigadier General H. H. Matthews of Military District No.13 concluded that technical units such as engineers or ordnance workshops would find it difficult to recruit from Alberta’s ranching and farming communities. That same rural character, however, meant that horse cavalry would not have the same problem. Matthews also worried that units would lose esprit de corps under

McNaughton’s reorganization scheme.26 Western Canada’s limited industrial base meant that

24Dickson, Thoroughly Canadian General, 94; Morrison, Voice of Defence, 9, 11, 77.

25Joint Staff Committee, “Limitation of the Effectiveness of the Land, Sea and Air Forces of Canada,” May 11, 1933, fol. HQS-5199-vol.7, RG 24, vol. 2686, NAC.

26Passim, fol. HQS-5902-vol.2, RG 24, vol. 2741, NAC; Brigadier General W. Gibsone to Secretary, DND, November 8, 1933, fol. HQ-6002-vol.1, RG 24, vol. 6604, NAC; Brigadier General H. H. Matthews to CGS, November 15, 1933, fol. HQ-6009-vol.1, RG 24, vol. 6607, NAC. 245

Matthew’s concerns about Alberta’s demographics would apply to the whole region and play a part in the next CDA meeting.

The November 1933 CDA meeting passed a much more specific resolution in support of reorganization:

Be it resolved that this Conference approves of the reorganization of the Militia of Canada on the basis of six divisions and ancillary troops, as laid down in Part I of the General Staff Memorandum, with the proviso: – (a) That greater consideration be given to distribution in accordance with the existing strength of units rather than on a basis of population. (b) The claim of Western Canada to the allocation of a higher general proportion of cavalry units be given consideration, and that: (c) In the case of Cavalry and Infantry, the application of this reorganization be delayed, with the exception of units volunteering to be converted, or inefficient units to be disbanded, until after the next general meeting of their Associations.27

Clearly the CDA expected the reorganization to commence soon, as the associations’ annual meetings usually occurred early in the year. But this was not to be.

The problem, as always with the Militia in the interwar years, was money. McNaughton explained the situation to the Chief of the Imperial General Staff, General Sir Archibald

Montgomery-Massingberd. McNaughton mentioned the NPAM’s “self-sacrificing spirit” that went unnoticed by the press and Parliament, whose apathetic attitude made it impossible to expect public support for the reorganization. He also expected the “natural conservativeness” in Militia units to foster opposition to reform, as well as “official and general objection to any steps which might lead to new expenditures. And re-organization, even though on a downward scale, must entail additional

27Resolution passed by Conference of Defence Associations, November 18, 1933, fol. HQS-5902-vol.3 , RG 24, vol. 2741, NAC. 246 expenses while in progress.”28 With Canada mired deep in the Depression, extra money from Ottawa would not be forthcoming.

In May 1934, MPs questioned Sutherland on whether a Militia reorganization was being contemplated. Sutherland characterized the announcement, seen in the Montreal Star, as

“premature.” He added, “Officers of the department are constantly seeking some way to benefit the organization, and to put it on what they consider a better basis, if possible.”29 This was not entirely true. That September, two Manitoba NPAM cavalry regiments had already agreed to amalgamation, understanding it was in their best interests. Two months later at the CDA meeting, McNaughton announced that 50 inefficient units had been disbanded. Some had already ceased to function and their disbandment at this point was merely pro forma.30 Obviously, the plans were more advanced than Sutherland would publicly admit. But the Conservative government was not willing to pay for more than the preliminary moves, such as CDA resolutions, General Staff and Joint Staff Committee memoranda, and various discussions.

Perhaps realizing Ottawa’s wavering support for the reorganization, McNaughton highlighted other reasons to reorganize the Militia at the Infantry Association’s annual meeting. He argued that an improperly balanced force meant infantry could not be properly supported and would be

“murdered” on modern battlefields. He urged: “As long as we have in front of us an organization

28Major General Andrew G. L. McNaughton to General Sir Archibald Montgomery-Massingberd, October 15, 1933, fol. X-28, Mackenzie Papers, vol. 30, NAC.

29Canada, House of Commons Debates (May 17, 1934), 3119.

30Lieutenant Colonel H. C. H. Brayfield, The Border Horse, Major W. J. McShane, , and Colonel P. J. Montague, 6th Mounted Brigade to CGS, September 29, 1934, HQ-6006-vol.1, RG 24, vol 6607, NAC; Morrison, Voice of Defence, 53; Michael R. McNorgan, The Gallant Hussars: A History of the Regiment 1856-2004 (Aylmer: 1st Hussars Cavalry Fund, 2004), 57. 247 which is so obviously unsuited to our requirements, as is our present military organization, we are unlikely to command the support of the Government. . . . We have got to get our objective right before we can expect Parliament to provide us with the money to go ahead, and make our training as efficient as we need it to be.”31 McNaughton linked reorganization to better funding and showing

Ottawa that the Militia had its uses. He gave this speech as the Permanent Force was running relief camps across Canada.

But McNaughton perhaps underestimated the level of the contempt that some in Parliament harbored against the military. Grote Stirling replaced Sutherland as defense minister on November

17, 1934. In March 1935, MP F. G. Sanderson attacked the government on the CGS’s salary, its initial exclusion of military officers from the recent pay cut suffered by all public servants, and a circular on regulations regarding the appropriate size of neckties to be worn in the officer’s mess.

He went on to scold Stirling:

I want to tell the Minister of National Defence that he cannot make a military country out of the Dominion of Canada, and the sooner the government realizes that fact the better it will be for them and the country at large. . . . I do want to say that with a very few exceptions the [Permanent Force] officers are what I would call war lords, men who are attempting to create the feeling throughout the country that Canada must be prepared for another war. . . . Even if conditions were normal it would be a waste of money, but the waste is greater having in view the distress and unemployment common throughout the country.32

Conservative MP R. J. Manion defended the Militia against Sanderson’s scathing rhetoric. Manion brought up Canada’s per capita spending on defense, comparing it to other nations. The $1.24

Canada spent was meager compared to Japan’s $3.70, ’s $6.00, or France’s $14.80.

31Minutes of the Canadian Infantry Association Third Annual Meeting, Ottawa, January 26-27, 1934, fol. McN (M) 88, McNaughton Papers, vol. 16, NAC.

32Canada, House of Commons Debates (March 8, 1935), 1548. 248

Sarcastically, he suggested: “I am sure that all nations are trembling as to what we shall do with this great military power of ours.”33 The fact that Manion, the Conservative party’s future leader, defended the Militia and not Stirling characterized the meek conduct of most defense ministers in the interwar years. These ministers tended to treat their portfolio as a burden rather than an opportunity.

Days later, Stirling discussed Canada’s military policy in Parliament. He suggested that the policy was identical to the policies of past governments. He claimed that forces at the government’s disposal were “kept up to the mark,” meaning they tried to keep abreast of modern developments, maintain their efficiency, and occupy stations spread throughout Canada to aid the civil power.34 But

Canada’s military policy had changed. By accepting McNaughton’s recommendations on a revised

Militia that no longer planned for war against the United States, Ottawa had changed course. This was quite a departure from the last established policy in 1905, formulated when some Canadian leaders still viewed their southern neighbor with suspicion.

As the General Staff proceeded to map out reorganization plans in 1935, they adhered to the following principles: first, the table of organization was reduced to a level consistent with what

Canada could mobilize and maintain, based on its population and available supplies; second, forms of organization appropriate to modern weapons and mechanized vehicles were adopted; third, units were distributed in proportion to the density of population and the dominant occupational characteristics; fourth, efficient units were allowed to convert to other units as necessary, rather than

33Ibid., 1567.

34Ibid. (March 19, 1935), 1867. 249 be disbanded; finally, the battle honors, traditions, and names of existing units were preserved as far as possible.35

The staff consulted district officers on which NPAM units were to be amalgamated and which ones were to be disbanded. Disbandment was urged primarily when a unit had no personnel or stores. Even an unsuccessful unit could be saved from dissolution and reorganized as a company of another regiment.36 However, district commanders would make exceptions for units they perceived to be unworthy. For example, the DOC of Military District No.5, Brigadier General J. M. Prower, recommended the disbandment of Les Chasseurs Canadiens. The battalion’s defects included inefficiency, badly located companies, and officers who were not “of any use at all” and did not pool their pay for the regiment’s benefit. Most damning was the battalion’s succession of poor commanders that produced a “hopeless state of mind” in junior officers and local citizens. The regiment did not do additional work. Prower, upset that the chasseurs absorbed approximately

$1,000 from the district’s training vote, felt it had no hope for improvement. He felt saving the chasseurs over another regiment would be a “real injustice.”37 Les Chasseurs Canadiens, lacking the same virtues of sacrifice and dedication as exemplified by many NPAM units, became one of only three infantry battalions disbanded in the reorganization.

35Ian Mackenzie statement to the Imperial Conference, May 24, 1937, fol. A-3 “Imperial Conference 1937 statement by Canadian Minister of Defence,” Mackenzie Papers, vol. 33, NAC.

36Major General E. C. Ashton, DOC Military District No.11, to DND, January 12, 1934 and June 19, 1935, fol. HQ-6007-vol.1, RG 24, vol. 6607, NAC; Brigadier General D. W. B. Spry, DOC Military District No.13, to DND, September 15, 1935, fol. HQ-6009-vol.1, RG 24, vol. 6607, NAC.

37Brigadier General J. M. Prower, DOC Military District No.5, to DND, March 25, 1935 and October 7, 1935, fol. HQ-6003-vol.1, RG 24, vol. 6604, NAC. 250

The General Staff’s contemplated reorganization scheme called for an equal division of units between the military districts, which led to some acrimony. NPAM officers in district No.3 were upset that infantry battalions in their district were being “sacrificed” to the district in Quebec, which they felt would not be maintained efficiently. The General Staff’s heavy-handed “Scheme for the

Reorganization of the Canadian Militia” of July 15, 1935, answered some of these concerns. The staff defended the principle of representation by population as “essential to national military organization.” No longer would the Militia accept the “local inequality of service in peace and of sacrifice in war.” In other words, because one district’s units were more active in peace did not mean that in war they could support them with their population base. Surplus regiments of infantry and cavalry that would have no place on active service needed to be reduced. Any opposition to modernizing formations and balancing out the Militia’s proportion of combat arms was “equally to be deplored.” The memorandum ended with the hope that further reflection would lead to officers’ unanimously accepting the General Staff’s reorganization plan.38

When the Liberals won the 1935 fall election, CGS General Ashton, at the request of his new minister, Ian Mackenzie, submitted a memorandum to the new government on the Militia’s status.

Ashton explained that the Conservatives had accepted the reorganization in principle but it had not been completed. After reviewing the reasons behind the reorganization and the work done to date, including the CDA’s and its member associations’ approval, Ashton pressed for the authority to implement the plan. Mackenzie authorized the reorganization in December 1935. The CGS insisted

38“Scheme for the Reorganization of the Canadian Militia,” July 15, 1935, fol. HQ-5099-vol.1, RG 24, vol. 6604, NAC; Brigadier General W. B. Anderson, DOC Military District No.3, to DND, February 26, 1935, fol. HQ- 6001-vol.1, RG 24, vol. 6604, NAC 251 all conversions and amalgamations be completed on or before December 15, 1936.39 Just as in the early 1920s, the reorganization was proceeding without official word from Ottawa on what it wanted the Militia to plan. Tacitly, both the Conservative and Liberal governments approved McNaughton’s proposals, meaning that they approved of a force that planned equally for defense of Canada’s neutrality and an expeditionary force.

Mackenzie officially announced the Militia’s reorganization during a House of Commons debate on May 19, 1936. He stated it would proceed as soon as possible. There was little attention to the announcement in Parliament or from the press, according to the CDQ’s editors. MP C. G.

MacNeill twice urged the minister to further shrink the Militia. Toronto’s Globe, a major Canadian newspaper, did not mention the changes until July 3, 1936. The only substantive negative attention arose in the Senate, where W. A. Griesbach, a decorated First World War veteran, questioned why the reorganization scheme was not laid before Parliament to be approved by both houses. He attacked the General Staff’s claim that the scheme was incomplete, suggesting that the basic outline placed before the CDA and district officers in years past was the final document. Griesbach attacked

Ottawa’s handling of the reorganization, asserting it feared questions from MPs about whom Canada was preparing to fight. But he also skewered the public: “When it comes to discussing the defence forces, Canada is a nation of villagers. Nobody is interested in such matters and nobody bothers about them. Consequently we have again and again been pitchforked into trouble unprepared,

39Major General E. C. Ashton, “The Requirements of Canadian Defence (A Review of the Present Situation),” November 12, 1935, fol. X-4, Mackenzie papers, vol. 29, NAC; Toronto Globe & Mail, December 16, 1936, 2; Haycock, “Clash of Imperatives,” 254. 252 unarmed and unequipped, and have paid the price afterwards.”40 Griesbach was correct that the scheme was essentially finished, but the General Staff spent the rest of 1936 finalizing details.41

As indicated above, some units were unhappy with the changes. The commander of the

Argyll Light Infantry (Tank) wanted his unit to continue training as infantry until tank equipment and schools of instruction were established. National Defense Headquarters denied this request, although it conceded that there were difficulties in training without suitable equipment.42 Brigadier General

H. F. H. Hertzberg, DOC Military District No. 6, stated that two infantry battalions in his district, the Princess Louise Fusiliers and Lunenberg Regiment, opposed their respective conversion and amalgamation. Hertzberg noted that the units in his district were hesitant to reorganize until they knew other districts had started the process.43 Even efficient units were forced to amalgamate. The

Carleton Light Infantry had recently won the Canadian Infantry Association’s award as the most

40Canada, House of Commons Debates (May 19, 1936), 2993; Canada, House of Commons Debates (May 28, 1936), 3186; Canada, Senate Debates (June 8, 1936), 427; Service Notes, Canadian Defence Quarterly 13 (July 1936): 468; Globe, July 3, 1936, 1.

41Even as late as November 17, less than one month before reorganization was completed, the General Staff debated the fates of some units. The DOC of Military District No. 4, Brigadier General R. O. Alexander, recommended disbanding the 6th Duke of Connaught’s Royal Canadian Hussars because its commanding officer refused to form artillery batteries from his regiment. Lieutenant Colonel Thos Guerin pleaded for his hussars to become a mechanized cavalry regiment or be amalgamated with another cavalry unit. The regiment’s organization had not permitted it to train since the First World War, despite its relatively large number of personnel (22 officers and 157 other ranks in 1934). In the end, the regiment amalgamated with the 1st Motor Machine Gun Brigade to become the 6th Duke of Connaught’s Royal Canadian Hussars (Armored Car), one of four NPAM armored car regiments in the reorganized Militia. Lieutenant Colonel Thos Guerin to DOC, Military District No.4, September 28, 1936 and Brigadier General R. O. Alexander, DOC Military District No.4, to DND, November 17, 1936, fol. HQ- 6002-vol.2, RG 24, vol. 6604, NAC; DND, Report 1934, 43.

42Lieutenant Colonel A. B. Gribble to Military District No.3 Headquarters, November 18, 1936, fol. HQ- 6001-vol.2, RG 24, vol. 6604, NAC; Lieutenant Colonel E. L. M. Burns, for CGS, to DOC Military District No.3, November 30, 1936, RG 24, vol. 6604, NAC.

43Brigadier General H. F. H. Hertzberg, DOC Military District No.6, to DND, February 8, 1936, fol. HQ- 6004-vol.1, RG 24, vol. 6607, NAC; Brigadier General H. F. H. Hertzberg, DOC Military District No.6, to DND, September 11, 1936, fol. HQ-6004-vol.2, RG 24, vol. 6607, NAC. The Fusiliers were amalgamated with a machine gun company and then converted to a machine gun infantry battalion. The Lunenberg Regiment was amalgamated with the Annapolis Regiment to form the West Nova Scotia Regiment. 253 efficient unit in Military District No. 7. Nevertheless, it was amalgamated with the York Rangers, despite the opposition of the latter’s officers.44 Understandably, regiments wanted to retain their distinctiveness. Sometimes the complaints worked, as in the case of the Saskatchewan Mounted

Rifles and 16th Light Horse. Originally, they were to amalgamate, but a revised plan converted both into artillery batteries. Brigadier General H. E. Boak complained to the CGS: “[the regiments] are primarily interested in the cavalry arm and would not care to serve in another arm which would be uninteresting to them.”45 In the final scheme, the two regiments formed the 16th Saskatchewan

Horse.

On the other hand, some NPAM commanders pressed impatiently for reorganization. A resolution from the February 1936 CDA meeting urged that “there should be no further delay in carrying this re-organization into effect.”46 The spirit of dedication in the NPAM was evident in officers accepting the amalgamations as best for their units and their expressed desire to commence training as soon as possible. Brigadier General D. W. B. Spry, DOC of District No. 13, reported that this was the case with several of his cavalry regiments. Spry exhorted the General Staff repeatedly, hoping these units could take full advantage of the fall and winter training seasons: “Delays dampen the enthusiasm and it would be regrettable were the existing keenness to wane.”47 The King’s

44Brigadier General L. F. Page, DOC Military District No.7, to DND, July 18, 1936, fol. HQ-6005-vol.2, Ibid.

45Brigadier General H. E. Boak, DOC Military District No.12, to DND, October 24, 1936, fol. HQ-6008- vol.2, Ibid.

46Minutes of the 4th Meeting of the Conference of Defence Associations, Ottawa, February 14-15, 1936, fol. HQS-5902-vol.4, RG 24, vol. 2742, NAC.

47Brigadier General D. W. B. Spry, DOC Military District No.13, to DND, May 29, 1935 and July 22, 1935, fol. HQ-6009-vol.1, RG 24, vol. 6607, NAC; Brigadier General D. W. B. Spry to DND, August 8 and September 5, 1936 , fol. HQ-6009-vol.2, RG 24, vol. 6607, NAC. 254

Canadian Hussars in Nova Scotia was eager for its formal conversion to armored cars, and began training as such in the summer of 1936. The elementary training emphasized weapon training, officer and NCO instruction, map reading, reconnaissance, report writing, and issuing verbal orders.

The regiment organized as a squadron for two elementary reconnaissance exercises. The DOC of

Military District No. 6 judged the unit “made good progress and finished camp with an enthusiasm for this new role in the service.”48

Mechanization was another area where details were not settled by the time of Griesbach’s speech. General Ashton felt the need to periodically remind Mackenzie of the importance of armored fighting vehicles and that Canada had none. He described how such vehicles would give Canada the

“capabilities of rapid movement and hard hitting” and the ability to “meet modern armies on equal terms.”49 Even the Militia’s opponents in Parliament urged Mackenzie to concentrate on the development of armored forces.50 There was also a minor debate in late 1936 about whether to form a separate tank corps or keep tanks with the infantry.51 In the end, tanks remained with the infantry.

Into 1937, there were those in the General Staff that wanted to convert all the remaining horsed cavalry regiments to mechanized cavalry. Even though some could not foresee a role for horsed

48Brigadier H. F. H. Hertzberg, DOC Military District No.6, “Camp Commandant’s Report, Aldershot Camp,” August 1, 1936, fol. HQ-33-11-200, RG 24, vol. 6284, NAC.

49Major General E. C. Ashton, “The Requirements of Canadian Defence,” April 22, 1936, fol. X-4, Mackenzie Papers, vol. 29, NAC. Other memoranda where Ashton or the Joint Staff Committee discussed the importance of armored fighting vehicles and motorized transport include: Major General E. C. Ashton, “Requirements of National Defence,” August 24, 1936, fol. X-4, Mackenzie Papers, vol. 29, NAC; Joint Staff Committee, “An Appreciation of the Defence Problems Confronting Canada with Recommendations for the Development of the Armed Forces,” September 5, 1936, fol. HQC-5199-B, RG 24, vol. 2693, NAC.

50Canada, House of Commons Debates (May 28, 1936), 3186.

51Colonel N. O. Carr to CGS, October 1, 1936, fol. HQ-420-18-91, RG 24, vol. 6522, NAC; Lieutenant Colonel E. L. M. Burns, for the D.M.O. & I., “Formation of Armoured Car and Tank Corps in the Canadian Militia,” October 13, 1936, fol. 420-18-91, RG 24, vol. 6522, NAC. 255 cavalry in the defense of Canada, the staff decided that it was best to still have the option available as not all areas of Canada were easily reached by roads.52

The localization of the new tank battalions remained undecided in October 1936. The

Director of Mechanization and Artillery, Colonel N. O. Carr, advocated that mechanized units be located in industrial areas despite requests from some NPAM battalions.53 This decision prevailed as four of the six tank battalions were located in Canada’s industrial heartland of Ontario and

Quebec; the other two were located in New Brunswick and Alberta. In Windsor, Ontario, where a new tank battalion took shape, the city already had a successful infantry battalion in the Essex

Scottish. The area around Windsor contained several automobile manufacturing plants, including

Ford and Chrysler, making it ideal for localizing a tank battalion. It was hoped a large number of local mechanics would join the battalion.54 Nevertheless, this again demonstrated the desire amongst

NPAM units to become involved in this new branch.

One of the most important parts of the 1936 reorganization was the formation of the Canadian

Armored Fighting Vehicle School (CAFVS). The school opened at London, Ontario, with six officers and twelve other ranks. The school’s first objective was for its personnel to receive training with the Royal Tank Corps, which was scheduled to take about a year. Students learned tank training

52Colonel H. D. G. Crerar to CGS, January 13, 1937, fol. HQC-6723, RG 24, Reel C-5088, NAC.

53The commander of the 11th Machine Gun Battalion, Lieutenant Colonel F. Layton, requested that his unit in Esquimalt be converted to tanks instead of a unit in Military District No.2. Supported by the Canadian Machine Gun Corps Association, Layton asserted that General McNaughton had promised the association its pick for where a tank unit would be organized. Lieutenant Colonel F. Layton to Military District No.11 Headquarters, October 20, 1935, fol. HQ-6007-vol.1, RG 24, vol. 6607, NAC; Colonel N. O. Carr (Director of Mechanization and Artillery) to Colonel H. D. G. Crerar (Director of Military Operations and Intelligence), October 23, 1936, fol. HQ-6003-vol.2, RG 24, vol. 6604, NAC.

54Brigadier General J. C. Stewart, DOC Military District No.1, to DND, October 23, 1936, fol. HQ-5099- vol.2, Ibid. 256 and the care and maintenance of armored fighting vehicles. The school’s second objective was to qualify the personnel of the NPAM tank battalions. The school possessed little equipment or vehicles. Ashton urged his civilian masters that light tanks were needed as soon as they could be supplied. With the delays involved, the school’s first courses for the NPAM were not held until

1938. The NPAM’s four armored car regiments and six tank battalions had little opportunity to begin realistic training in the immediate years following the 1936 reorganization. In historian

Brereton Greenhous’ opinion, the reorganization “meant they could begin to think like mechanized units.”55

As the reorganization became imminent, the Canadian press evinced interest. Articles often used the word “drastic” to describe the contemplated changes.56 Editorials, such as in Canada’s preeminent newspaper, the Toronto Globe & Mail, urged Mackenzie to make reorganization more than just a gesture. Its editor could see danger looming around the world and he worried about the extent of Canada’s preparations. “It would be admirable if the ostrich were an infallible defense guide,” he wrote. Newspaper articles related the final details of the reorganization as it came to a close at the end of 1936. Thirty-six cavalry regiments were reduced to 16 cavalry and four armored car regiments; 135 infantry and machine-gun battalions were reduced to 59 rifle battalions, 26 machine-gun battalions, and six tank battalions; 52 new artillery batteries were formed, some by conversion from cavalry and infantry units; and 26 new engineer units were authorized. Mackenzie

55Major General E. C. Ashton to Deputy Minister of National Defense, December 5, 1936, fol. D-7 “Defence Estimates, 1937 – miscellaneous memos,” Mackenzie Papers, vol. 37, NAC; CGS (Major General E. C. Ashton) to Adjutant General, January 22, 1937, fol. 9801-17-2, RG 24, vol. 149, NAC; “Training Report, Canadian Armoured Fighting Vehicle School. 1st April to 24th September 1938,” September 26, 1938, fol. 9801-17-2, RG 24, vol. 149, NAC; Greenhous, Dragoon, 284.

56The Globe (Toronto), July 3, 1936, 1; Toronto Globe & Mail, September 22, 1936, 1. 257 called the reorganization “necessary and overdue” for two reasons. The first was that the old table of organization was “excessive and impractical.” Second, the Militia needed to adopt modern types of arms and equipment.57 The press coverage was not heavy, but it did support Mackenzie and the

Militia.

III

Reorganization finally became a reality four years after it had been approved in principle.

McNaughton, the architect of this shift, had moved on and the Liberals controlled Parliament again.

That they authorized reorganization was a positive sign, particularly given their stance toward the

Militia in the 1920s. It must be remembered, however, that McNaughton tied the Militia’s reorganization to its modernization. Yet even after reorganization ran its course, the Militia still lacked many of the basic items and modern weapons for which McNaughton, and now Ashton, had been lobbying. The reorganization placed the Militia’s structure on a more realistic basis, but its effectiveness could not increase until it obtained modern weapons and complete equipment. The

Militia also lacked suitable manpower to fill its reordered ranks. As an officer writing under the pseudonym “Canuck” stated in the CDQ: “It is not actually correct to state that Canada maintains a land force of six divisions and a cavalry division. It would be more truthful to say that we maintain the possibility of creating such a force on mobilization.”58

57Toronto Globe & Mail, December 9, 1936, 6 and December 16, 1936, 1, 2. To take one province as an example, Alberta, with its many cavalry units, was hit hard by the second organization. The 15th Canadian Light Horse and South Alberta Horse became the 15th Alberta Light Horse. The 19th Alberta Dragoons and Alberta Mounted Rifles joined together as an armored car regiment. Other changes in the district included the disbandment of the North Alberta Regiment, the Calgary Regiment becoming the Calgary Regiment (Tank), the conversion of the Edmonton Fusiliers to machine guns, and three new field batteries were created. Graves, Century of Service, 194.

58Canuck, “The Problems of Canadian Defence,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 15 (April 1938): 271. 258

Furthermore, Canada still lacked a military policy and a firm notion of who its enemies would be or whence potential danger might emanate. In this sense, the reorganization was putting the cart before the horse, or armored fighting vehicle. The General Staff had specifically cited Japan as one potential enemy, but no government had approved any of Canada’s three defense schemes. The

General Staff’s focus for the following year, along with the acquisition of new equipment and weapons, was gaining acceptance of its defense schemes. 259

CHAPTER TEN:

POLITICS, ARMAMENTS, AND SOVEREIGNTY,

1936-39

The Militia’s reorganization preceded Canada’s adoption of an official military policy.

Ottawa’s planning for future wars was limited to two foreign policy statements masquerading as a military policy, “no commitments” and “Parliament will decide.” But Prime Minister King began to take defense matters more seriously in 1936.1 Ottawa finally defined a new military policy in

February 1937, placing a premium on home defense that fit King’s predilections. Home defense, however, meant that the Militia received fewer new funds compared to the RCAF and RCN. Overall, these moves marked the beginning of a realistic appraisal by Ottawa concerning the world situation and the need for national defense. All the same, progress was slow. King wanted the government to ensure that its actions had the support of Canadians. He desired Canadians to know that the government had been “cautious and prudent” in its decisions.2

Meanwhile, the Militia began preparing for the next war. With a military policy in place, its planning finally had government sanction. Of Canada’s two active defense schemes, only No. 3 offered the Militia a significant role with the mobilization of a two-division corps for service overseas. That role also provided a rationale for the Militia’s rearmament. Defense Scheme No. 2,

1King’s speech of January 25, 1937, confirmed that his foreign policy had not substantially altered since the 1920s. The speech was ambiguous, however, and allowed both imperialists or isolationists to read into it what they wanted. This offered King more freedom to continue his cautious course. King was too prudent a politician to commit himself to one course of action without knowing whether it was popular. Canada, House of Commons Debates (January 25, 1937), 243-52 and (February 19, 1937), 1049-50, 1055-58; Pope, Soldiers and Generals, 125.

2William Lyon Mackenzie King to Ian Mackenzie, January 12, 1938, Mackenzie King Papers, Reel C-3731, 216023-24, NAC. 260 on the other hand, relied mainly on the RCN and RCAF to guard Canada’s neutrality in a war between the United States and Japan. The General Staff altered Defense Scheme No. 3 for home defense because the government would not allow the Militia to prepare for an overseas role.

Throughout these last years before the Second World War, Canada’s armed forces operated with virtually no modern arms and equipment. Colonel Burns lamented in 1936 that the Militia was

“hardly better armed than the poor Ethiopians, and we should fall easy victims, as they did, to attack by an enemy provided with modern weapons.”3 Ottawa would not authorize large quantities of new weapons and equipment for the Militia. Restrictive limitations on foreign manufacturers and a lack of local industry prevented the Militia from acquiring a few modern weapons for training purposes.

In 1938, historian and NPAM lieutenant C. P. Stacey rated Canada’s lack of a munitions industry during the War of 1812 as a “dangerous embarrassment.” What surprised him was that little had changed since then.4 There was little dedicated defense industry in Canada beyond the Dominion

Arsenals, which primarily produced small-arms ammunition. This meant orders had to be placed in

Britain for everything from rifles to guns and tanks. But Britain was busy rearming its own military and little could be spared for the Empire. As a result, a debate raged within Canada about creating an arms industry, either nationally or privately-owned. A Canadian munitions industry began building in 1937, but by the time war broke out, it had expanded only enough to supply the Militia with basic items.

3Burns, “Defence of Canada,” 391.

4C. P. Stacey, “Canadian Defence Policy,” Canadian Journal of Economics and Political Science 4 (November 1938): 497. 261

Canadians slowly became aware of the threat that Germany posed. The enthusiastic response to King George VI’s North American tour in 1939 made it clear that Canadians supported Great

Britain still. Even Prime Minister King privately admitted that truth. In the interplay between international and domestic politics, and the creation of a domestic munitions industry, the Liberal government inched slowly toward participation in the coming war.

I

King’s foreign policy goal in the 1920s was to enhance and protect Canada’s sovereignty.

After re-election in 1935, that remained his primary foreign policy concern. Periodically in these years before the Second World War, the United States reminded Canada of its potential threat to that sovereignty. Until European events drew King’s attention from North America, the prime minister focused on his country’s neutrality vis-a-vis the United States. The Canadian General Staff attempted to take advantage of King’s fears for Canada’s sovereignty by emphasizing the Militia’s place in protecting and enhancing that sovereignty.

Canada gleaned an insight into how the American government felt about the northern neighbor’s neutrality in early 1935. During secret hearings before the House Committee on Military

Affairs, US Army Air Corps officers testified that American forces would intervene if Canada could not defend its neutrality against a power seeking to attack the United States. When this testimony leaked in April, the American press and public reacted adversely, as did President Franklin D.

Roosevelt. The reaction in Canada and Britain was muted, though Canadian newspapers praised 262

Roosevelt’s rebuke of the testimony. General McNaughton felt the hearings foreshadowed an

American protectorate over Canada if it could not defend its neutrality.5

The General Staff, however, regarded the defense of Canada’s neutrality as less likely an option for Canada’s armed forces than the dispatch of an expeditionary force. In late 1935, General

Ashton listed Defense Scheme No. 2 as “in the course of preparation,” but No. 3 as “well advanced and could be implemented without undue delay.” In his opinion, No. 3’s only problem was that the

Militia lacked the equipment necessary to muster a “Field Force” of two infantry divisions, a cavalry division, ancillary troops, and an air force contingent.6 Lieutenant General Maurice Pope revealed in his memoirs that most of the General Staff considered the idea that Canada would have to defend its neutrality as “the height of absurdity.”7 The Militia regarded its proper role not as guarding air and naval bases on the Pacific coast, as called for under Defense Scheme No. 2, but confronting the

German Army in Europe. In the CDQ’s pages, Germany emerged as the greatest threat from the beginning of Hitler’s rise to power. In 1934, the editor warned of Hitler’s “dreams” of absorbing

Austria and the Polish Corridor whereas he practically dismissed Japan’s East Asia aggression. As the countdown to war continued, CDQ editorials prominently discussed German moves but the war in China got comparatively little mention in these same pages.8 The Militia focused more and more

5Galen Roger Perras, Franklin Roosevelt and the Origins of the Canadian-American Security Alliance, 1933-1945: Necessary, but Not Necessary Enough (Westport: Praeger, 1998), 12-16.

6Ashton, “Requirements of Canadian Defence,” November 12, 1935, NAC.

7Pope, Soldiers and Generals, 91. Pope was in a privileged place to make this assessment. He had started to redesign Defense Scheme No. 3 in 1934 when serving as the acting Director of Military Operations and Intelligence. Colonel Crerar returned from Imperial Defense College in 1935 and became the director with Pope as his chief subordinate. Dickson, Thoroughly Canadian General, 98, 99.

8Editor, “Recent Events in Europe,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 11 (July 1934): 469; Editor, “The Far East: Japan and Her Relationship with the Western Powers,” 12 (October 1934): 90. The same arguments were repeated two years later in an editorial, this time suggesting that if the “continental” policy (expansion on mainland 263 on Germany as the greatest threat to Canada’s security and thus saw the importance of Defense

Scheme No. 3.

The Americans had difficulty dispelling the impression that they desired some domination over Canada. President Roosevelt intimated to King in July 1936 that the United States would not stand idly by if Japan attacked Canada. At a public speech the following month in Chautauqua, New

York, Roosevelt told his audience that the United States would “defend ourselves and defend our neighborhood,” an allusion to the Monroe Doctrine. Also in 1936, Canadian army intelligence reported that all the major military planning at the US Army War College involved a Far Eastern country attacking the mainland United States through Canada.9 Ashton and Commodore Percy

Nelles, Canada’s Chief of Naval Staff, met their American counterparts, General Malin Craig and

Admiral William D. Leahy for two days of secret talks, beginning on , 1938. The goal of the talks was an exchange of information, but Craig offered to have the US Army protect British

Columbia’s coastline against any potential Japanese incursions, which Ashton evaded without comment. Thereafter, there was only limited contact between senior members of each country’s general staffs.10 On August 18, while speaking at Queen’s University, President Roosevelt declared

Asia) was not successful, then Japan might attempt a maritime policy that would put it in direct conflict with Western Powers. Editorial, Canadian Defence Quarterly 14 (January 1937): 128-33.

9Perras, Canadian-American Security Alliance, 20. Demonstrating an understanding of American foreign policy, the General Staff suggested that it contained contradictions in the principles of the Monroe Doctrine and “no entangling alliances.” The staff maintained that since the doctrine was not a treaty or obligation, Canada must not rely on it. “National Defence Problems and Summary 1936,” n.d., fol. D-3, Mackenzie Papers, vol. 37, NAC.

10Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 2: 180-82; Perras, Canadian-American Security Alliance, 39-41, 43-44. King so feared the appearance of commitments that in 1937 it became the norm for the meetings between American and Canadian officers to be discrete. Canadian officers attending US Army maneuvers travelled incognito, wearing civilian clothes. Only the year before, the officers who attended similar exercises did so as official observers. After Major General T. V. Anderson replaced General Ashton as CGS in late November 1938, he too furtively travelled to meet his American counterpart. King even dreaded that overt connections to the British, such as the liaison letters between Canada’s CGS and the British Chief of the Imperial General Staff, would effectively commit Canada to 264 that his country would not allow a foreign power to conquer Canada. King saw this as Roosevelt dropping “a bomb” but the Canadian public reacted favorably to what Canadian newspapers termed the “Roosevelt Doctrine.” Two days after Roosevelt’s speech, King made one that emphasized

Ottawa’s dedication to preventing any power attacking the United States through Canada. King came to agree with McNaughton that if the United States had to defend Canada, it would mean Canada’s absorption.11

After Roosevelt’s 1936 offer to defend Canada, King learned exactly how much his military was unprepared for a war. On August 25, reading McNaughton’s “Defence of Canada” memorandum shocked King into altering his anti-military stance. He asserted that his about-face stemmed from the realization that it was “humiliating to accept protection from Britain without sharing the costs, or to rely on the United States without being willing to at least protect our own neutrality.”12 It was clear to King that something had to be done. If Canada wanted to be considered a sovereign nation, and not just a dependent of the British Empire, at the very least it needed to be able to defend itself.

The next day, Canada’s military chiefs presented reports on each service’s needs. The chiefs wisely confined their comments to Canada’s security and preserving its neutrality. While King deplored Canada’s military weakness, he knew many obstacles strewed the road ahead. “It is going

sending another generation of young men to Europe’s battlefields. Deputy Minister of National Defense L. R. LaFleche to Dr. O. D. Skelton, Undersecretary of State, External Affairs, July 31, 1937, and Message 5263, August 7, 1937, RG 24, Reel C-8318, NAC; Ian Mackenzie to Dr. O. D. Skelton, Under-Secretary of State for External Affairs, November 1, 1938, Mackenzie King Papers, Reel C-3731, 215128, NAC; Haycock, “Clash of Imperatives,” 261; Perras, Canadian-American Security Alliance, 38.

11Mackenzie King Diary, August 18, 1938 and January 27, 1939; Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 2: 183-84; Perras, Canadian-American Security Alliance, 44.

12 Mackenzie King Diary, August 25, 1936 and September 10, 1936. 265 to be extremely difficult to do anything effective without a cost which this country cannot bear,”

King wrote in his diary that night. Nonetheless, he strongly urged his Cabinet to support new military spending, expressly for coastal defense using the RCN and RCAF. “I would deserve to be shot, did I not press for immediate action & should a war come on with nothing accomplished meanwhile & this were revealed.” The Cabinet, reluctantly in some cases, supported King. The next step, he wrote, was “to get a practical scheme for consideration.” King realized that Canada needed a clear military policy to guide the country’s rearmament, particularly to justify the vastly increased sums for the military then under discussion.13

The main result of King’s new awareness of Canada’s defenselessness was the Canadian

Defense Committee (CDC), created by the prime minister on August 20, 1936. Ashton had been urging the government to form such a body since late 1935 because of the demands modern war placed on “every sphere of civilian activity.”14 The committee included the prime minister and the ministers of Finance, Justice, and National Defense as members, with the heads of the military services as associate members. The CDC started the country toward war preparations by reviewing defense questions such as the control of imports and exports, the mobilization of industry for the production of war supplies, censorship, the detention of enemy shipping, and similar matters. Thus beginning in August 1936, national defense was taken more seriously by Ottawa; key ministers consulted openly on what Canada’s defense policy was to be and how they would plan for it. As C.

13Ibid., August 26, 1936.

14Ashton, “Requirements of Canadian Defence,” November 12, 1935, NAC. 266

P. Stacey commented, it was a striking contrast from the 1920s, when these same leaders were uninterested in military matters.15

The Joint Staff Committee (JCS) prepared a memorandum regarding Canada’s defense problems that echoed Ottawa’s own preferences. The memorandum urged the government to allow for planning along two lines: the direct defense of Canada against Japan and the indirect defense of

Canada by the dispatch of an expeditionary force. The JSC believed that Canada’s neutrality was at risk in a war between the United States and Japan. The JSC asserted: “The liability of direct attack on Canada by Japanese forces has become a matter requiring urgent consideration and action.”

Canada might be attacked by Japanese naval, air, and land forces. The JSC opined that Canada’s armed forces were incapable of adequately watching the Pacific coast. Canada needed to be able to defend its sovereignty against Japanese encroachment or risk American military occupation. Canada needed to reassure both American authorities and American public opinion that was protecting its neutrality against Japan. Canada’s “sovereign rights” were at stake unless it could adequately protect its territory.16 The staff wanted Ottawa to understand that having a ready and capable military was an essential part of sovereignty.

15“Canadian Defence Committee: A Suggestion as to its functions and Composition,” November 15, 1935, Mackenzie King Papers, Reel C-3690, 189608-12, NAC; “Minutes of a Meeting of the Committee of the Privy Council,” August 20, 1936, Mackenzie King Papers, Reel C-3690, 189615, NAC; Mackenzie King Diary, September 10, 1936; Canada, House of Commons Debates (February 19, 1937), 1051-52; Stacey, Military Problems of Canada, 101.

16JSC, “Appreciation of the Defence Problems,” September 5, 1936, NAC; “Appreciation of Canada’s Obligations with Respect to the Maintenance of Neutrality, In Event of a War between the United States of America and Japan,” October 14, 1936, fol. “General Staff,” Crerar Papers, vol. 11, NAC. Also showing an awareness of their public position, Adjutant General Major General C. F. Constantine banned Permanent Force officers from making public statements on international affairs or Canada’s defense policy. Dickson, Thoroughly Canadian General, 105. 267

Even knowing that King and the majority of the Cabinet did not want to consider an expeditionary force, the JSC chose to do its duty and offer unpleasant options to the government.

The JSC suggested that the same compelling factors that led to Canadian participation in the First

World War might again require the dispatch of an expeditionary force to Europe. The JSC rated the

European situation in the late 1930s as having “the most serious implications” due to Germany’s dominant position in European politics and its military preparations. Pope, if not the entire General

Staff, believed that war in Europe was inevitable once Germany reoccupied the Rhineland in March

1936.17

King made it clear in these years that an expeditionary force was “wholly out of the question” and his principal concern remained Canada’s direct defense. King would write in his diary as the

1938 defense budget was considered that he opposed further increases to the Militia’s appropriations for mechanization or “other purposes” because he feared that they might go toward an expeditionary force.18 Here he was at odds with his defense minister. Speaking before the United Service in late

1937, Mackenzie envisioned a Canadian army that comprised: “A moderate sized mechanized force

– rapid moving, hard hitting, provided with protective armour is required as the spear head of every army; capable of covering vast distances and seizing and holding important positions, while the main force is being brought up and deployed.”19 Dr. O. D. Skelton and Loring Christie, two of the key

17JSC, “Appreciation of the Defence Problems,” September 5, 1936, NAC; Pope, Soldiers and Generals, 91-92.

18In these entries, King portrayed himself or his associates as agreeing to “doing all possible” for the RCAF, RCN, and coastal defenses. Loring Christie, “Memorandum for the Prime Minister,” February 20, 1936, fol. 8 “Memorandums and Notes re Canadian Defence Policy 1936-1939,” Loring Christie Papers, MG 30 E44, vol. 27, NAC; Mackenzie King Diary, September 14, 1937 and January 11, 1938; Granatstein and Bothwell, “Canadian Foreign Policy,” 219; Stacey, Arms, Men and Governments, 99.

19Ian Mackenzie, “Notes for United Service Institute of Ottawa,” November 4, 1937, fol. 3-16, Mackenzie Papers, vol. 5, NAC. 268 personalities in the External Affairs department, relentlessly criticized the Militia’s requests between

1937 and 1939 as secret preparations for an expeditionary force. Christie was External Affairs’ point of contact with the military. Pressure from Skelton and Christie, who both wanted the Militia kept away from defense policy, caused King to stop the CDC’s meetings in 1937. Even into 1939, King still did not want to consider the possibility of an expeditionary force or conscription. He noted that the British might only want air force volunteers from Canada in the case of a war. This belief stemmed from the 1937 Imperial Conference, when Britain proposed to train air crews in Canada.

Both King and the leader of the opposition, R. J. Manion, declared in March 1939 that if a war came that Canada would not need to dispatch a large expeditionary force and would not consider conscription.20

At the beginning of 1937, the Cabinet decided that it was time for Canada to define a military policy. King laid down his goals at a Caucus meeting on January 20, 1937. Not surprisingly, he stressed that Canada should only be concerned with the defense of Canada’s shores and protecting its neutrality, and not with aggression writ large. King felt that the country’s military policy needed to mediate between the extremes of massive spending and no spending. King feared that Canada’s current political unity would unravel in the face of increased military spending or the specter of conscription and an expeditionary force. Liberal opposition to conscription for the First World War devastated the party in the 1917 election, splitting it asunder, and King had lost his seat. That issue

20Mackenzie King Diary, January 27, 1939; Dickson, Thoroughly Canadian General, 102, 108; Colonel C. P. Stacey, The Canadian Army 1939-1945: An Official Historical Summary (Ottawa: King’s Printer, 1948), 4; Stacey, Six Years of War, 37. 269 had exacerbated seething class and racial tensions within Quebec. It also complicated relations between Quebec and the other provinces.21

On February 15, 1937, Mackenzie defined the government’s military policy while arguing that the military’s budget increases were necessary for Canadian security. In the speech before

Parliament, Mackenzie carefully restricted Canada’s defensive needs to “the direct defence of

Canada, of our coastal areas, our ports, our shipping terminals, our territorial waters.” He stated that the increases would not result in sending an expeditionary force overseas. Ottawa directed the military budget of nearly $33 million – an increase of more than $10 million from the previous year

– into four specific priorities. First, the RCAF needed more aircraft, personnel, accommodation, and supplies. Second, the RCN required more vessels. Third, additional coastal batteries and anti- aircraft guns were needed. Finally, the Militia received increased spending for additional NPAM training, especially coastal artillery and services likely to be called upon in emergencies. Mackenzie also suggested the Militia required modern weapons and gear for a small force to cooperate with the

RCAF and RCN. He intimated that the Militia’s increase would go primarily to mechanization, but of its extra $6 million, nearly $3 million was destined for general stores such as artillery ammunition.

Another $2,552,771 went to engineer services and works at various points around the country, with the lion’s share going to improving Pacific coast gun emplacements.22

Both King and Mackenzie entered per capita expenditures in the record to show how little

Canada was spending on defense compared to other nations. The 1935-36 figures listed Canada’s

21“‘Defence Policy’: Prime Minister’s remarks at Caucus,” January 20, 1937, fol. X-6, Mackenzie Papers, vol. 29, NAC; Perras, Canadian-American Security Alliance, xi.

22Canada, House of Commons Debates (February 15, 1937), 892-93, 903-4; DND, Report 1938, 17. 270

$1.41 per capita as only slightly higher than Peru’s $1.30. Canada’s gaunt expenditures paled next to Chile’s $4.01, Finland’s $4.12, Japan’s $4.30, Australia’s $4.37, the United States’ $7.11,

Switzerland’s $7.56, Russia’s $9.77, Great Britain’s $14.14, or France’s $16.79.23 The opposition’s charge that Canada was arming recklessly could hardly be sustained.

Mackenzie also injected ambiguity into this debate. He asserted the government’s new policy eschewed “automatic responsibilities” to any coordinated defense plan, ie. imperial cooperation. He believed the main threats to Canada’s sovereignty were the potential violation of Canada’s neutrality by other powers or allowing other nations to defend that neutrality. This was clearly a nod to

Defense Scheme No. 2. Mackenzie argued, however, that Canada could choose to defend its freedoms against nations that behaved as “swash-buckling international gangster[s].”24 Mackenzie, in effect, made an argument in favor of indirect defense. Mackenzie was either testing the waters or this was the first indication that he may have been working at cross-purposes to King.

The defense budget passed Parliament easily with a vote of 191-17. Nearly all members of the Liberal and Conservative parties voted in favor. King confided to his diary that he felt “genuine pride” at the result, one that he feared would be the most contentious of the session. “Just enough has been done and not too much,” he wrote. “We have kept the unity of the Party and the unity of the Country which, after all, is the important thing.” He felt emboldened enough by the vote to

23Canada, House of Commons Debates (February 15, 1937), 899-901 and (February 19, 1937), 1053.

24Ibid, (February 15, 1937), 891-902. The discussion that followed Mackenzie’s speech repeated those that occurred during budget debates in the 1920s (see Chapter Four). The MPs demanded to know what country was so dire a threat that the government felt compelled to proceed with rearmament. Ibid., 906-18. 271 assure President Roosevelt that Canada could not be a self-respecting nation and rely on the Monroe

Doctrine for protection.25

The response to the military policy varied according to the source. The British press held contempt for Canada’s attitude toward defense. They criticized King’s passivity on defense, which abetted the isolationist elements in Canada, and his desire for freedom of action. The Toronto Globe

& Mail characterized the new defense program as “modest.” The paper found it a “strange spectacle” to see Ottawa seemingly repudiate any Imperial cooperation. It wondered whether the pacifist and isolationist vote was strong enough to force King to do so.26

Politically speaking, there were sound reasons for King to avoid taking too firm a stance for intervention in another major conflict. The CCF party attracted a significant proportion of voters throughout the interwar years, particularly with its anti-military stance. After Mackenzie announced the military policy, CCF clubs across Canada inundated King with letters that demanded the government reject the military budget increases, nationalize the nickel industry and munitions plants, and make it a criminal offense for any Canadian or Canadian company to seek profits from the manufacture of war supplies.27 This provided clear evidence to King that there was a segment of society, although an arm of an opposition party, that was against any military adventures and wanted to limit munitions production within Canada. Besides the CCF, pacifists and isolationists placed

25Mackenzie King Diary, February 19, 1937; Perras, Canadian-American Security Alliance, 34-35.Of the 17 votes against the 1937 defense estimates, all were from the CCF and six dissident Liberals from Quebec. John D. Meehan, Dominion and the Rising Sun: Canada Encounters Japan, 1929-41 (Vancouver: UBC Press, 2004), 141.

26Vincent Massey, High Commissioner for Canada, London, to William Lyon Mackenzie King, January 29, 1937, Mackenzie King Papers, Reel C-3727, 204805-9, NAC; Toronto Globe & Mail, February 22, 1937, 9.

27Burrard CCF Club to William Lyon Mackenzie King, February 28, 1937, Mackenzie King Papers, Reel C-3726, 202802, NAC. This letter is just one example of the dozens, nearly all identical in text and format, that are contained throughout this volume in King’s papers. 272 their views before the public in various periodicals. One author asserted that the Monroe Doctrine was sufficient protection for Canada.28 Another characterized Canada’s rearmament as drawing the country back into a “European vortex.”29 A third denigrated Canada’s connection to Britain, dismissing it as “a pathetic proof of spiritual dependence, and the negation of any real capacity to attain a state of self-respecting nationhood.”30 Such views had some resonance with the public and reinforced King’s desire to go slowly.31

In addition to public complaints, King’s own bureaucracy had its concerns. External Affairs warned King that some reluctant MPs accepted the defense appropriations in 1937 solely for local defense; if the following year’s expenditures were equal or greater, those MPs would consider that another purpose was “really intended” – an expeditionary force. The larger defense budget in March

1938 passed nearly unanimously. King’s reluctance to go further in supporting Britain and rearmament can be traced, at least partially, to this department. Later, he came to realize that he had perhaps been overly influenced by the isolationist attitude inside External Affairs.32

From the Militia’s point of view, the 1937 budget was a disaster. From the military policy’s priorities, the Militia stood to get little. If the Militia wanted modern weapons and vehicles, then it

28A. Harriet Parsons, “Would the United States Defend Canada,” Maclean’s, November 1, 1936, 10,11, 30, 32, 41.

29“Folly of Canadian Rearmament,” The Canadian Forum 16 (February 1937): 6-7.

30Colonel W. D. Murdock and Professor A. A. Bright, “The Army at Bay: A Discussion of National Defence,” Queen’s Quarterly, 43 (Winter 1936-37): 396-405. The quoted opinion is Professor Bright’s.

31King received letters from private citizens periodically that addressed such foreign policy issues. Robert P. Brodie demanded King “cut out this defense business!” Robert P. Brodie to William Lyon Mackenzie King, February 16, 1937, Mackenzie King Papers, Reel C-3695, 199114, NAC.

32“Defence Policy and Organisation – Militia,” February 26, 1937, fol. 8 “Memorandum Notes,” Christie Papers, vol. 27, NAC; Mackenzie King Diary, April 28, 1939; Meehan, Dominion and the Rising Sun, 178. 273 had to recast Defense Scheme No. 3 as a plan for the direct defense of Canada. The General Staff accepted King’s “defence of Canada” policy because it had little influence with the government and the policy was, historian Ronald Haycock writes, “a road to rearmament they could live with.”33 The

Militia did, however, have an ally in Mackenzie, who soon made it clear he supported Defense

Scheme No. 3 as the basis for the Militia’s rearmament.

At the Imperial Conference in May 1937, King and Mackenzie split on Canada’s position in the coming war. King described how Canada was affected by the “isolationist swing” in the United

States as a result of that country’s Neutrality Acts. King noted that many Canadians disapproved of any participation in a League or Commonwealth war. He suggested Canadians generally supported the Liberal military policy, which offered little to the Militia. Under present conditions, King asserted, Canadians would not support larger appropriations than those recently approved. King needed events to move Canadian opinion – and himself – forward on defense issues. Mackenzie, on the other hand, explained to the other imperial defense ministers that he wanted to have two infantry divisions “completely equipped, thoroughly modernized and mechanized, and ready for service immediately in any part of Canada.”34 This was most certainly Defense Scheme No. 3 he was discussing and not Defense Scheme No. 2, which called for only a small force to cooperate with the

RCN and RCAF.

33Haycock, “Clash of Imperatives,” 260.

34Mackenzie statement, May 24, 1937, NAC; Munro, D.C.E.R., 6: 203. During the conference, Skelton specifically warned the JSC to avoid any conversations that might be interpreted as commitments. After the conference, King paid a visit to Adolf Hitler in Germany. Seriously misreading Hitler, King described him in a letter as “a simple sort of peasant,” believing he was not very intelligent and that he posed no serious danger to anyone. King informed the German chancellor that if Great Britain went to war, the Dominions would be automatically involved. Mackenzie King Diary, June 29, 1937; Allen, Ordeal by Fire, 357; Dickson, Thoroughly Canadian General, 107; J. L. Granatstein, Canada’s War: The Politics of the Mackenzie King Government, 1939-1945 (Toronto: Oxford, 1975), 2. 274

The remolding of Defense Scheme No. 3 began with the JSC memorandum of September 6,

1936. The JSC presented the Militia’s armament needs as urgent because it lacked armored fighting vehicles, mechanized transport, and modern weapons. The JSC cited the armored fighting vehicle’s development and the replacement of the horse by motor transport as the two outstanding developments of the past twenty years. Older weapons systems had also improved in that period; modern artillery outranged First World War types by 50 percent and automatic weapons were simpler in design, more rugged, more effective, and lighter. All the same, the JCS deferred to Ottawa’s desires by listing the Militia’s priorities as the modernization of coastal defenses at Esquimalt and

Halifax, followed by the procurement of the modern arms, equipment, and vehicles needed to modernize all six of the Militia’s infantry divisions. Two of these divisions would form a “Mobile

Force” that could mobilize quickly and concentrate in any part of Canada. This would have permitted the fielding of a slightly smaller force than called for by Defense Scheme No. 3, but the title change (from “Field Force”) barely hid the fact that it was an expeditionary force in waiting.

The JSC’s five-year plan to rearm and modernize Canada’s armed forces was projected to cost

$199,351,333 with $65 million of the total due to be spent in the first year. Of that larger total, nearly $99 million was earmarked for the Militia.35 Ottawa rejected those estimates with its military policy but King approved a revised Defense Scheme No. 3 in March 1937.36

The General Staff deemed the revised Defense Scheme No. 3 appropriate for a major war with three possible scenarios: war with Germany; war with Japan; and a war against both powers.

35JSC, “Appreciation of the Defence Problems,” September 5, 1936, NAC. The JSC recommended six destroyers and four minesweepers for the RCN and 23 squadrons, or approximately 400 aircraft, for the RCAF.

36Elliot, Scarlet to Green, 74; Haycock, “Clash of Imperatives,” 260. The scheme was forwarded to the military districts in January 1938. 275

The staff de-emphasized the overseas role of the Mobile Force in favor of Canada’s direct defense, such as countering raids and invasions in areas where local forces could either not deal with the landings or were not immediately ready. The staff noted, however, that the scheme provided a means to organize a force for service abroad. In February 1939, CGS Major General T. V. Anderson conceded that, given current strategic conditions, it was unlikely that military need would demand the Militia mobilize the Mobile Force to defend Canada. He did, however, recognize that Ottawa might be pressured to mobilize at least part of the force for that purpose. With Mackenzie’s blessing,

Defense Scheme No. 3 became more of a statement of policy for local defense, internal security, and mobilization plans for the Mobile Force.37 In that sense, the scheme became a hedged bet that

Ottawa would want to send forces overseas in the case of a major war. Changing the scheme this way saved much of the work that had already been done on it and kept the focus on Europe as a strategic priority. Defense Scheme No. 2 was not discarded and work continued on it into 1938, although it changed little.38

Even with the revised Defense Scheme No. 3, the General Staff feared it would be for naught.

Colonel Harry Crerar, then Director of Military Operations and Intelligence, informed an American diplomat that Canada would limit its overseas role if Britain went to war. He added that Canada could do little else because the tempo of modern war would not allow Canada time to mobilize, train,

37Major General T. V. Anderson, “Memorandum on Preparation for War,” February 4, 1939, fol. HQS- 3498-vol.11, RG 24, vol. 2646, NAC; General Staff, “Defence Scheme No.3,” February 13, 1939, fol. HQS-3498- vol.10, RG 24, vol. 2646, NAC; General Staff, “Defence Scheme No.3: Permanent Force Representation in the Mobile Force,” February 20, 1939, fol. HQS-3498-vol.10, RG 24, vol. 2646, NAC; Harris, “Or There Would Be Chaos,” 124.

38Joint Staff Committee, “Plan for the Maintenance of Canadian Neutrality in the event of a war between the United States and Japan,” January 20, 1938, fol. HQS-5199-A-vol.3, RG 24, vol. 2693, NAC; General Staff, “Defence Scheme No.2: Combined Service Plan for the Maintenance of CANADIAN NEUTRALITY In the event of a War between the United States and Japan,” February 25, 1938, fol. HQS-3497, RG 24, vol. 2643, NAC. 276 and dispatch a large Canadian expeditionary force. Crerar’s comments reflect his resignation that

Ottawa might not authorize an expeditionary force, but also his pessimism that if one was authorized that it would not be effective.39

Due to the Munich crisis in September 1938, King worried that war in Europe was inevitable.

His military chiefs were already ahead of him and were increasingly concerned about the neglected

Atlantic defenses and the threat posed by Germany. King wrote in his diary that Canada had a “self- evident national duty” to enter any war along with Britain. He believed that Canada should lend

“every assistance possible . . . carefully defining in what ways and how far she should participate.”40

The crisis was still not enough for him to support the formation of an expeditionary force, but it did reverse a reduction in the Militia’s budget and instead allowed an increase. In a November Cabinet meeting on rearmament, in which King lamented that Canada’s defense was still “wholly inadequate and ineffective,” he asked whether any of the Militia’s proposed equipment could be used overseas.

The answer – from an unidentified source – came back that it applied only to the defense of Canada, the mobility of troops within Canada, and for training purposes. Canadians, in general, were now aware of the danger posed by the Nazis and moved toward supporting a war if one came. Various

Canadian veterans’ organizations offered to raise battalions to supplement Canada’s

39Perras, Canadian-American Security Alliance, 41.

40Mackenzie King Diary, September 13, 1938. 277 defenses.41 This was a tangible indication, albeit a small one, that Canadians wanted to defend

Britain and the Empire.

Since Ottawa adopted a military policy in 1937, public opinion was rated as at least as important as financial resources in deciding when new military equipment would be purchased.42

Without a sizeable demonstration on the part of Canadians, King adhered to his deliberate path, only authorizing actions that he could safely defend in Parliament and justify to himself. King worried enough about the proposed military budget for 1939-40 to meet with Manion. King had enough parliamentary seats that he could pass any budget he wanted, but meeting with Manion exhibited his desire to adapt a bi-partisan approach to rearming that limited political strife within Canada. The appropriations passed with little debate, a shocking contrast from two years earlier and one that reveals a shift in opinion in Canada, at least among the politicians.43

The tangible event that King needed to finally support a stronger stance on defense came with the Royal Tour. The tour began on May 17, 1939, when King George VI and Queen Elizabeth landed at Quebec, and it lasted nearly a month, with stops across Canada and a brief visit to the

United States. The tour’s purpose was to strengthen the Empire’s ties with Canada. Large numbers of Canadians crowded the monarchs’ route, eager to see them and display their loyalty. British and

Canadian politicians realized that talk of Canadian isolationism and neutrality no longer held

41Major General E. C. Ashton, “Principles under which it is considered Military Forces required for a maximum effort in the Defence of Canada should be organized,” September 28, 1938, fol. X-52A, Mackenzie Papers, vol. 32, NAC; Mackenzie King Diary, November 14, 1938; Dickson, Thoroughly Canadian General, 112; Lester B. Pearson, Mike: The Memoirs of the Right Honourable Lester B. Pearson, vol. 1, 1897-1948 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1972), 125; Stacey, Canada and the Age of Conflict, 2: 236.

42Ian Mackenzie, “National Defence 1935-1939: Equipment and Preparedness,” n.d., Mackenzie King Papers, Reel C-3745, 230566, NAC.

43Mackenzie King Diary, January 30, 1939; Stacey, Canada and the Age of Conflict, 2: 234. 278 credence. The prime minister, who accompanied the Royal Tour, now knew, without a doubt, that

Canada would stand with Britain when called upon.44

The visit also stimulated interest in the Militia, as Canadian troops provided honor guards and fulfilled other ceremonial duties. The tour prompted the government to authorize the Militia to disburse part of its stock of boots left over from the First World War. Ottawa wanted to ensure the

NPAM was properly and similarly dressed. The coming summer training season was also listed as reason for the gift of boots to the NPAM. Overall, the Permanent Force issued 10,091 pairs of boots to the NPAM across Canada in the summer of 1939. In addition, the government authorized

$100,000 to purchase approximately 31,000 new pairs of boots.45 Providing boots to the NPAM might seem to be a small action, but given that the Militia had yet to do so in the interwar years, it was an important symbol of change. Nevertheless, the Militia approached the beginning of the

Second World War relatively unarmed.

II

Part of the rearmament dilemma was that it seemed insurmountable. As Ian Mackenzie told the Canadian Manufacturer’s Association in 1939, the problem had originated in Canada’s history:

“Under the old conditions we always knew that if the call came we could mobilize our militia, send them overseas and we knew that others would be able to furnish them with weapons. Consequently, this country had no armaments industry. When we decided as a government, three years ago, that

Canada must be equipped for her own defence, we were faced with a problem of staggering

44Dickson, Thoroughly Canadian General, 117; Granatstein and Bothwell, “Canadian Foreign Policy,” 228; Graves, Century of Service, 198-99; , Mud and Green Fields: The Memoirs of Major-General George Kitching (St. Catherines: Vanwell Publishing, 1992), 80; Roy, For Most Conspicuous Bravery, 132; Thompson and Seager, Canada 1922-1939, 327.

45Mackenzie, “National Defence 1935-1939,” n.d., 230564, NAC. 279 dimensions.”46 Into 1939, Canada could not fully equip the Mobile Force or even a single division and ancillary troops to meet a “first-class enemy.” The lack of arms and equipment also meant that the training of key elements of the Mobile Force, such as mechanized cavalry regiments, anti-aircraft batteries, and tank battalions, could not advance beyond elementary topics.47 The General Staff and

Ottawa became locked in a pattern where the former would explain its deficiencies, shocking the latter, but the politicians did little to remedy the problem.48 The nonsensical idea that there was a clear division between weapons and equipment that could be used solely in Canada and not also overseas paralyzed Ottawa. The General Staff responded by claiming additional weapons it requested were for home defense.

The re-equipment of Canada’s forces was based on an indeterminate time line. As early as

1935, the Canadian General Staff knew that the country could not rely on receiving shipments of munitions or equipment from Britain. Orders for small quantities of weapons, artillery ammunition, and coastal guns and mountings – only for the Pacific coast – had no delivery dates from British manufacturers. Weapons and equipment for coastal and anti-aircraft defense were in high demand throughout the Empire. England’s own vulnerabilities meant that British requirements were met first. Only a tiny trickle of items arrived from Britain. This situation would continue until the outbreak of the Second World War and Canada could do little to alleviate it. Ottawa, and the other

Dominions, even confirmed the policy of uniform systems of equipment at the 1937 Imperial

46Ian Mackenzie, “Canadian Manufacturers Association Speech,” May 26, 1939, fol. 3-36 “Canadian Manufacturers Association speeches 1939-41,” Mackenzie Papers, vol. 6, NAC.

47General Staff, “The Concentration of the Mobile Force,” May 5, 1939, fol. HQS-3498-vol.11, RG 24, vol. 2646, NAC.

48Besides the examples in the text above, King was struck by the state of his military’s unpreparedness in March 1938. Mackenzie King Diary, March 13, 1938. 280

Conference. If Canada decided to instead purchase military items from the United States, that country’s Neutrality Laws presented a problem for acquiring replacements after a war began.49

General Ashton argued in favor of Canada becoming as self-sufficient as possible in military armament and equipment production to surmount these problems.50

Predictably, given the furor over private arms manufacture early in the decade, King’s government initially opposed Ashton’s proposal. Mackenzie, for one, firmly stated that private firms should not be allowed to manufacture armaments. At the time, Canada’s munitions industry was limited to the government’s two Dominion Arsenals and the privately-owned Canadian Industries

Limited. The latter supplied the arsenals with cordite, the explosive used in ammunition, though it had the facilities to produce small-arms ammunition. The arsenals produced large quantities of small-arms ammunition, and one could produce some types of artillery shells with imports of fuses and fillings. Mackenzie’s modest ambition to ensure they could meet the Militia’s ammunition needs required two and a half years to complete the necessary additions, posing yet another obstacle to rearmament. Indeed, rifle ammunition was one of the few areas where Canada received adequate

49Between September 3 and 10, the respective dates for Britain’s and Canada’s declarations of war on Germany, Canada imported 65 warplanes from the United States. President Roosevelt had personally removed Canada from the official neutrality proclamation after King informed the president that Parliament had yet to decide on war. Roosevelt, however, signed Canada onto the proclamation on September 10. Perras, Canadian-American Security Alliance, 54.

50Ashton, “Requirements of Canadian Defence,” April 22, 1936, NAC; Field Marshal Sir Cyril J. Deverell to Major General E. C. Ashton, October 23, 1936, fol. X-28, Mackenzie Papers, vol. 30, NAC; Haycock, “Clash of Imperatives,” 254, 256; Munro, D.C.E.R., 6: 168-71. 281 levels of munitions before the Second World War.51 Ottawa came to realize that the Dominion

Arsenals could not rearm the Militia.

The military and business community tried to pressure the government to seek munitions orders from Britain. As early as July 1936, the General Staff advocated coordinating Canada’s industry and rearmament with Britain’s to enable both nations to rearm more efficiently. In late

1936, Whitehall placed its first munitions order – 50,000 shells for the new 25-pounder gun – with a Canadian firm, the National Steel Car Company. Soon afterwards, Ottawa advised the Canadian

Manufacturer’s Association (CMA) that it favored British orders being placed in Canada and to private Canadian companies establishing munitions and aircraft plants, but it would have nothing to do, either directly or indirectly, with seeking or awarding contracts. The government would only provide information as required.52 Supposedly open to an armaments industry, Ottawa did little to actually encourage or nurture one. King later explained this policy as his belief that he should not be telling Britain how to rearm,53 but more likely he feared the potential political fallout if Canada appeared to rearm without an obvious imminent threat.

51Canada, House of Commons Debates (May 28, 1936), 3188-89; Colonel N. O. Carr to Deputy Minister, July 4, 1936, fol. X-11, Mackenzie Papers, vol. 30, NAC; Ian Mackenzie to William Lyon Mackenzie King, October 29, 1936, fol. 149-30, Mackenzie Papers, vol. 29, NAC; L. R. LaFleche to Ian Mackenzie, October 27, 1936, fol. 149-30, Mackenzie Papers, vol. 29, NAC; Major General E. C. Ashton, “The Defence of Canada: A Survey of Militia Requirements,” January 7, 1938, fol. X-4, Mackenzie Papers, vol. 29, NAC; Major General E. C. Ashton, “Canadian Defence Requirements,” July 15, 1938, fol. X-4, Mackenzie Papers, vol. 29, NAC. Canada eventually spent $260 million on improving the Dominion Arsenals and constructing other arms manufacturing and munitions plants. This figure does not include what private corporations spent on similar plants. Stacey, Six Years of War, 22.

52Colonel N. O. Carr to Deputy Minister, July 4, 1936, fol. X-11, Mackenzie Papers, vol. 30, NAC; William Lyon Mackenzie King to Hugh , September 12, 1936, fol. 149-30, Mackenzie Papers, vol. 29, NAC; Service Notes – Canada, Canadian Defence Quarterly 14 (April 1937): 344; Canadian Manufacturer’s Association, “National Defence,” Mackenzie King Papers, Reel C-3741, 223824-25, NAC; Hillmer, “The Anglo-Canadian Military ‘Alliance,’” 607-8.

53Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 2:122-23. 282

Slowly Ottawa’s stance on munitions changed. In early 1937, both King and Mackenzie described the change in Parliament. King felt that legislation was needed to place government supervision and control over profits on munitions, both in peace and war. Mackenzie stressed in his

February 15 speech that private industry was needed to produce what the Militia required.54 This was a major reversal from less than a year earlier. The realization that nationalized production was inefficient and costly, or simply inadvisable and unnecessary, had sunk into the government’s collective consciousness.

Nevertheless, the Militia still faced persisting arms and equipment deficiencies. Ashton observed that the Militia was organized as a modern force, but was not equipped as one or able to mobilize quickly. It would remain incapable of meeting any enemy equipped along modern lines until those problems were resolved. Instead of modernizing all six infantry divisions at a cost of almost $100 million, as the JCS had once requested, Ashton now wanted to fully arm and equip two divisions, ancillary troops, and fortress garrisons to their war strength, a total of $53,175,545. Given that Ottawa rejected a $50,000 provision for mechanical transport in the 1936 budget – the Militia had not even bothered to request armored cars or tanks – Ashton was asking for a lot. As it was, the

Militia’s clothing and web equipment stocks were insufficient for the Militia’s peace strength, leaving no reserves to quickly attain full war strength.55

54Canada, House of Commons Debates (January 25, 1937), 243-52 and (February 15, 1937), 905-6; Major General E. C. Ashton, “Report on remedial action which has been taken with regard to the deficiencies indicated in the C.G.S. Secret Memorandum of 12th November, 1935,” December 16, 1936, fol. HQC-5182, RG 24, vol. 2683, NAC; William Lyon Mackenzie King to Ian Mackenzie, December 29, 1936, Mackenzie King Papers, Reel C-3690, 190055, NAC.

55The money was for 250 tanks of various types, 540 machine-gun carriers, 500 artillery pieces of various calibers, 1,000 two-inch mortars, 50,000 steel helmets, and 72,000 gas masks. Ashton, “Report on remedial action,” December 16, 1936, NAC; Major General E. C. Ashton, “The Requirements of Canadian Defence: A Review of the Position as of 1 January 1937,” fol. X-4, Mackenzie Papers, vol. 29, NAC. It was to Canada’s discredit that it could not supply basic items of military clothing to its soldiers. The paucity of new clothing for NPAM regiments also 283

In January 1938 Ashton described how the Militia’s “comparatively defenceless position” had changed little since November 1935. His estimate to fully equip the two-division Mobile Force dropped to only $25 million but, he noted, the government’s three-year program contained no spending for that purpose. One of the cost savings was dropping tanks from the estimate. In late

1937, the Navy, Army and Air Supply Committee noted the lack of final designs for armored fighting vehicles. This meant that the General Staff would ask for small numbers of light tanks and forget heavy (“I”) tanks until the British Army had adopted a definite model or pattern.56 With each passing year, the General Staff was scaling back what it felt it needed to defend Canada. This resignation was a reflection of the increasing government obstinacy against acquiring so-called offensive weapons.57

Ashton felt that Canada could no longer passively wait for Britain to deliver supplies. This meant buying equipment – searchlights, communications gear, and other technical items from the

United States – where applying the uniformity of equipment principle was without practical importance. Ashton wanted such items built in Canada to circumvent the American Neutrality Acts.

explains a brawl that broke out between two Nova Scotia battalions over stolen newly-issued trousers in the late 1930s. Bird, North Shore, 97-98.

56“8th Meeting of the Navy, Army and Air Supply Committee, Department of National Defense,” November 3, 1937, fol. X-11, Mackenzie Papers, vol. 30, NAC; Major General E. C. Ashton, CGS, to Minister of National Defense (Ian Mackenzie), “Production of Munitions in Canada,” March 4, 1938, fol. HQS-4530-vol.1, RG 24, vol. 2679, NAC; Ashton, “Defence of Canada,” January 7, 1938, NAC.

57Besides the lack of training equipment, by 1938 the Militia’s basic armament needs were increasingly desperate. For example, the Militia’s infantry battalions virtually lacked the latest models of mortars. The Militia needed 768 two-inch mortars and 140 three-inch mortars. As of May, the Militia possessed only five modern mortars, with ten on order and a request for 130 more in the latest budget. Only five three-inch mortars arrived by spring 1939. In addition, in spring 1939, there were only four anti-aircraft guns in Canada when it was calculated that 116 were needed. Colonel N. O. Carr, Director of Mechanization and Artillery, “Memorandum,” May 26, 1938 and September 20, 1938, fol. HQS-4530-vol.1, RG 24, vol. 2679, NAC; Stacey, Six Years of War, 20. 284

King would eventually agree to this, but only after the Munich crisis refocused his attention on the dire need for arms and equipment.58

If Ashton had any success, it was with his civilian master. Mackenzie wanted as many munitions made in Canada as possible. He felt that industry only needed sufficient incentive to develop the country’s potential for such production. But there were legal and technical problems facing industry. Under the uniformity of arms and equipment principle, Canada did not hold the patents or manufacturing rights to any piece of kit that its military used. Ottawa needed to license their manufacture with the appropriate British agencies and corporations. The technical problem was that there were certain items that Canada could not produce due to their complexity or size, such as coastal gun mountings.59 Finally, Canadian manufacturers found producing munitions solely for

Canada’s needs was too costly. They needed British orders to make production profitable. Britain needed all the arms, ammunition, and equipment it could acquire as it had lost many factories during the interwar years. Of the thirty or so that produced munitions during the Great War, only Vickers

Armstrong and the royal arsenals still existed in the mid-1930s. Even knowing that Canada had earned hundreds of millions of dollars by producing munitions during that war, King was

58Mackenzie King Diary, September 24, 1938; Ashton, “Defence of Canada,” January 7, 1938, NAC.

59Ashton, “Defence of Canada,” January 7, 1938, NAC; Ian Mackenzie, “Annual Meeting, Canadian Artillery Association, Chateau Laurier,” February 12, 1938, fol. 1-4, Mackenzie Papers, vol. 2, NAC; L. R. LaFleche to O. D. Skelton, March 17, 1938, Mackenzie King Papers, Reel C-3735, 215144, NAC; Ian Mackenzie, “Mobilizing Industry for Defence – A Speech to the Canadian Manufacturer’s Association,” June 1, 1938, fol. 3-34 “Canadian Manufacturer Association,” Mackenzie Papers, vol. 6, NAC; L. R. LaFleche to O. D. Skelton, April 21, 1939, Mackenzie King Papers, Reel C-3744, 228905, NAC. 285 unenthusiastic about the possibilities a revived armaments industry promised the Canadian economy.60

Indeed, the government was so reluctant to become involved in munitions orders from Britain that it gave the impression of discouraging them. Whitehall was unsure whether Ottawa wanted such orders placed in Canada. When the rebuffed the Ford Motor Company of Canada’s application for a contract to make aircraft engines, it listed the Canadian government’s negative attitude as the reason. Ottawa did not take steps to remedy this false perception until April 1939.

At that time, the government and its High Commissioner in London contacted several British ministers directly about Canada’s willingness to receive munitions orders. But it was too late to start trying to create a munitions industry to help the prewar military. This represented a missed opportunity as British munitions orders could have gone a long way toward reviving the Canadian economy and creating facilities for arming the Militia. Some new plants had been built in Canada during 1937 and 1938, but there was still a strong public feeling against private munitions production.61

The Bren gun order and the problems around it demonstrate many of the issues involved with rearmament from the business and government points of view. Ottawa first ordered ten Bren light machine guns in 1936. Only a few had arrived by March 1938. That same month, the government

60Major General E. C. Ashton, “The Requirements of National Defence,” September 23, 1937, fol. X-4, Mackenzie Papers, vol. 29, NAC; Service Notes – Canada, Canadian Defence Quarterly 14 (April 1937): 344; Brian Bond and Williamson Murray, “The British Armed Forces, 1918-1939,” Military Effectiveness, vol.2, The Interwar Period, ed. by Allan R. Millett and Williamson Murray (Boston: Allen & Unwin, 1988), 103; Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 2: 116; Stanley, Canada’s Soldiers, 349. By 1937, Great Britain was building fourteen new munitions factories at a cost of $39,730,000.

61W. D. Black to William Lyon Mackenzie King, June 21, 1939, Mackenzie King Papers, Reel C-3741, 223819-21, 223837, NAC; Service Notes – Great Britain, Canadian Defence Quarterly 14 (April 1937): 344; Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 2: 116, 122; Stanley, Canada’s Soldiers, 348-50. 286 ordered 7,000 Brens from the John Inglis Company, a Canadian manufacturer, to which the British

War Office added an order of 5,000 guns. The Brens were purchased on a basis of cost plus 10 percent. Both governments shared the tooling costs for the plant but the machinery was owned by

Canada. Combining the orders saved both countries about $8 million and still offered Inglis a decent profit. By 1945, Inglis had produced two million Brens, although the first weapons did not roll off the assembly line until March 1940. The contract represented the most important step towards the

Militia’s rearmament before the Second World War and the only progress toward acquiring the armament of two divisions.62

The manner with which Inglis received the Canadian contract generated controversy over patronage and whether munitions production should be nationalized or private. Inglis’ president,

James Hahn, was a longtime Liberal supporter. Mackenzie used his ministerial authority to press both the British authorities and King for a favorable decision on Inglis producing Brens. Colonel

Drew questioned the contract’s possible impropriety in a September 1938 Maclean’s article. Drew, it will be recalled, was an advocate of nationalized munitions production. The main complaint, coming from the Conservative Party, of which Drew was a member, was the absence of competitive bids from other companies. “The urgent need of the nation [for arms],” Drew complained, “Must not provide the opportunity for large profits to friends of any government.”63 A Royal Commission cleared the government of any wrongdoing, much to King’s elation. As a result of the commission’s recommendations, Parliament authorized the Defense Purchasing Board in May 1939 and imposed

62Ashton, “Report on remedial action,” December 16, 1936, NAC; DND, Report 1938, 81; George A. Drew, “Canada’s Armament Mystery,” Maclean’s September 1, 1938, 8; Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 2: 120; Haycock, “Clash of Imperatives,” 263; Stacey, Six Years of War, 26.

63Drew, “Canada’s Armament Mystery,” 35. 287 limits on profits from munitions and armaments. The board had the power to impel National

Defense or its service chiefs to justify the necessity of purchasing any items.64 This board added a layer of bureaucracy to military requests.

The scandal stuck to Mackenzie and, in mid-September 1939, King ushered him out of the department he had guided for four years. King felt the public had lost faith in Mackenzie, but the

NPAM still supported him. Many in the organization felt that he respected them and their sacrifices during the interwar years, and had done much to address the preceding years of neglect during his time in office. Mackenzie’s attendance at the service associations and the CDA meetings had an important effect on the sense of cooperation and esprit de corps in the NPAM.65

King soured even further on the armaments issue, fearing a divisive controversy at the wrong time could tear the country apart. Ottawa ignored the CMA’s numerous offers to work with the government in 1938 and 1939. These industrialists had experience in munitions manufacture, plenty of available floor space, and could readily convert to munitions production. The CMA wrote King after its annual meeting in June 1939 to request a British mission be sent to arrange for the production of military supplies in Canada. King met a group of CMA members as he came off the triumph of the Royal Tour. He arranged for letters of introduction for a CMA delegation that arrived

64Mackenzie King Diary, December 30, 1938, January 7, 1939, and January 13, 1939; Drew, “Canada’s Armament Mystery,” 34, 35; Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 2: 120; Stacey, “Canadian Defence Policy,” 498..

65A. M. Clark to William Lyon Mackenzie King, December 19, 1938, Mackenzie King Papers, Reel C- 3740, 222260-61, NAC; N. Lee Glozer to William Lyon Mackenzie King, August 24, 1939, Mackenzie King Papers, Reel C-3743, 227489, NAC; Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 2: 121, 136; M. A. Hooker, “Serving Two Masters: Ian Mackenzie and Civil-Military Relations in Canada, 1935-1939,” Journal of Canadian Studies 21 (Spring 1986): 50-51; Stacey, Canada and the Age of Conflict, 2: 220; Stacey, Six Years of War, 26. 288 in London in August. As events turned out, the group arrived too late for long-range planning because the war began before the delegation could arrange any orders.66

Canada thus entered the Second World War with the state exercising a virtual monopoly over munitions production. Although Canadian companies like Inglis were in the process of tooling up, only the National Steel Car Company was producing munitions for Britain when the war began. The company assembled 3,000 artillery rounds per week. Other Canadian companies were producing battle dress, boots, aircraft searchlight equipment, mechanical transport vehicles, anti-gas respirators and steel helmets. King’s “no commitments” policy played the greatest part in the lack of British orders. Without Canada committing to militarily aid Britain and the Empire, the British questioned whether they should economically, industrially, or militarily aid Canada. Also, Whitehall loathed expending dollar reserves in North America. British manufacturers pressured their government to take advantage of their unused capacity rather than see orders go overseas.67

III

The major step forward in these last four years before the war was that Ottawa accepted that

Canada must rearm and prepare for the increasing danger in the world. Essentially, the government accepted General Ashton’s contention that the “underlying idea that Canada is in a position to hold herself aloof from a World War is a dangerous chimera.”68 The Liberals urged that the defense of

Canada was necessary because it ensured and enhanced Canada’s sovereignty. If Canada was a

66Black to King, June 21, 1939, 223819-21, 223839, NAC; Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 2: 122-23.

67Mackenzie, “National Defence 1935-1939,” n.d., 230569-70, NAC; DND, Report 1939, 89; Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, 2: 124. In addition, there were manufacturers producing modern naval vessels and service aircraft of various types.

68Major General E. C. Ashton, “Observations on Canada’s Defence Policy,” October 14, 1937, fol. X-19, Mackenzie Papers, vol. 30, NAC. 289 nation in its own right, it needed to be able to defend its own territory. Ashton attempted to play on

King’s fears in order to get more for the Militia, but the results were minimal. King was more concerned about the direct defense of Canada. This, in King’s mind, meant the Militia had only a supporting role to play. Nevertheless, the Canadian military was indebted to German and Japanese aggression for shifting Ottawa’s thinking on defense issues. This new realism was also eventually reflected in its recognition of the desirability, if not the inevitability, of Canadian private industry becoming involved in munitions production.

Canada’s new military policy deposed the Militia from its previous top position among the services. The RCAF now ranked first, the RCN second, coastal defense third, and the Militia fourth.69 The Militia still received the highest total out of any of the Canadian services, but the increases to its budget were only a fraction of the largesse afforded the other services. In the four fiscal years before the Second World War, the budgets for the three services are contained in the table below (see table 1).

Table 1. Comparison of the budgets of Canada’s three military services, 1935-39 RCAF RCN Militia Year $ $ $ 1935-36 3,777,320 2,380,018 10,141,230 1936-37 5,821,824 4,763,294 11,345,751 1937-38 10,108,104 4,371,981 17,222,104 1938-39 11,216,055 6,589,714 15,768,166 Source: DND, Report 1940 (Ottawa: King’s Printer, 1940), 15.

69In these rankings, Canada mimicked Great Britain. For other Dominions, New Zealand was the same but Australia’s priority placed its navy first and the air force second. Robert H. Larson, The British Army and the Theory of Armored Warfare, 1918-1940 (Newark: University of Delaware Press, 1984), 33; Service Notes – Australia, Canadian Defence Quarterly 14 (July 1937): 454. 290

As can be seen, the Militia’s budget in this period increased by about half, whereas both the RCN’s and the RCAF’s nearly tripled. This situation meant that the Militia did not have the funds to acquire new vehicles, weapons, or equipment, nor could it get those items from overtaxed British factories even if Ottawa had ordered them. The Militia spent most of its increased budgets on general stores

– little of which arrived before the Second World War – and engineering services and works. Only a small portion of this went to increased training.

While defense planning finally enjoyed government sanction, the General Staff subverted the government’s will by using Defense Scheme No.3 as the basis for that planning. In this it was doing its job in planning for likely outcomes to global situations. The Militia knew that if Japan or

Germany were to be confronted, the prime minister preferred to send few or no land forces overseas.

A mobilization that raised large amounts of ground troops could mean higher casualties and lead to conscription, which King feared could tear apart the country. King was too haunted by that idea to even consider that Canadians might accept an expeditionary force. Altering the Mobile Force’s role to home defense enabled Canada to have the nucleus of an expeditionary force ready upon mobilization, just in case Ottawa or the public demanded one be sent overseas. This bit of planning legerdemain also gave the General Staff the justification to have Defense Scheme No. 3 supersede

No. 2 in Canada’s defense planning.

As before in Canadian history, the Militia had to wait until war broke out before its needs could be fully met. Even though a second world war had been anticipated for years, Ottawa could not supply its army with a sufficient amount of weapons and equipment. The Department of

National Defense could claim that “when the crisis came Canada was better prepared than at any time 291 in her history.”70 This, however, was a low standard. It was largely Canada’s own fault that it was not better prepared for war. Only in the Bren-gun contract did the government make special efforts to arm Canada’s military, and only then because of Mackenzie’s conviction that the weapons were vital to the Militia. The minor furor over the Bren contract helped convince King that the nation was not ready for an expanded military effort until the Royal Tour provided him with ample evidence to the contrary. The June meeting with the CMA resulted from an emboldened King knowing that

Canadians strongly supported the empire. But by then it was too late for Canadian industry to produce what the Militia needed.

True to King’s word, Canada’s Parliament voted on whether to enter the Second World War.

Canada enjoyed a week of technical neutrality following Britain’s declaration of war on September

3 while Ottawa plotted its defense posture and arranged for a vote. Canada officially declared war on Germany on September 10. King realized that his defense minister and had conspired to send an expeditionary force if a European conflict occurred. He never accepted that the

General Staff had a duty to prepare for any contingency in detail.71 He directed his finance minister to reject any defense expenditures that were not for the direct defense of Canada. He complained:

“It is clear that the Defence Department has been spending most of its time preparing for an expeditionary force, and that Mackenzie has been either conniving at this or not resisting as it should be, or knowing nothing about it.” To his surprise, many in his Cabinet favored sending an expeditionary force before Canada was officially at war.72 He should have expected this because

70Mackenzie, “National Defence 1935-1939,” n.d., 230570, 230581, 230583, NAC.

71Dickson, Thoroughly Canadian General, 108.

72Mackenzie King Diary, September 5, 1939 and September 7, 1939; Granatstein, Canada’s War, 10. 292 whenever the Empire needed troops in the past forty years, Canada answered the call. The public clamored for an expeditionary force and, on September 19, the government authorized one division of the Mobile Force to proceed overseas while the other remained to defend Canada.73

73Dickson, Thoroughly Canadian General, 120. 293

CHAPTER ELEVEN:

A “HETEROGENOUS MASS”:

THE MILITIA’S FINAL PREPARATIONS, 1936-39

The Militia’s training between 1936 and 1939 proceeded on a note of urgency that had been largely absent since the end of the Great War. While some units had taken their training seriously all along, enthusiasm reached new heights and greater numbers turned out to train by the end of the

1930s. Many units tried to simulate as much realism as their limited weapons and training apparatuses allowed. Yet even the more realistic camp training, according to historian George

Stanley, had a certain “air of unreality.” Despite these efforts, however, much of the training in this period remained rather elementary. Musketry constituted the main training for most units, following the trend set before the First World War. Jeffrey Williams, a member of the Calgary Highlanders and an officer during the Second World War, commented that his regiment spent much time on firing ranges with the previous conflict’s weapons: “We achieved that basic minimum which General

Pershing, the American Great War commander, said was needed for the infantryman – we learned to shoot and salute.” The Highlanders trained for two hours twice a week in 1938 and 1939, and

Williams comments in his memoirs: “In retrospect it was surprising that we learned as much as we did given our almost total lack of equipment.” 1

The Permanent Force finally held a major concentration at Camp Borden in 1938, its first since 1930. While the exercises revealed many flaws in the Permanent Force’s practices, the lessons learned were important. For starters, Canadian regulars became better acquainted with the

1Stanley, In the Face of Danger, 44; Williams, Far from Home, 90, 92, 114. 294 capabilities of mechanical vehicles. The camp provided many officers with their first substantial military experience with such contraptions, due to the participation of the Canadian Armored

Fighting Vehicles School.

The year-and-a-half before the war began witnessed a debate hailed as the pinnacle of

Canadian military thought in the interwar period.2 Colonel E. L. M. Burns and Captain Guy Simonds used the pages of the CDQ to argue over where Britain should place tanks, either with divisions or the army reserve. These articles demonstrated that Canadian officers could critically analyze military trends without the benefit of practical experience with modern arms.

I

Even before the Militia finished reorganization, its training intensified. This consumed more time and involved more men as Ottawa allocated record amounts for this purpose nearly every year beginning with 1937. The Permanent Force, however, enjoyed barely any additional training because its ranks were spread thin helping the NPAM. To assist in preparations for modern warfare, the

Militia founded the CAFVS, but it too was underfunded and understaffed.

The 1936 summer training period followed the pattern set in previous years. There were actually fewer men trained at local headquarters in 1936 than the previous year, down by 969 of all ranks. For camp training, the 1936 total was 661 less than 1935.3 The reasons for the decline were the Militia’s reorganization and the beginning of economic recovery, which meant fewer men needed

2English, Failure in High Command, 48-49; Granatstein, Generals, 125, 151; Harris, Canadian Brass, 203; Marteinson and McNorgan, R.C.A.C., 75-76. On the other hand, Roman Jarymowycz dismissed it as an “amusing footnote to Canadian mechanization.” Jarymowycz, Tank Tactics, 35.

3DND, Report 1936, 34; DND, Report 1937, 39. In 1936, 4,412 officers and 29,959 other ranks trained at local headquarters, 1,924 officers and 11,891 other ranks trained at camps. The total numbers trained were 5,190 officers and 34,802 other ranks. This total was only 95% of the officers and 32% of the other ranks needed for the Militia’s table of organization of six infantry divisions and one cavalry division. Burns, “Defence of Canada,” 391. 295 the extra income of attending a summer camp. The General Staff’s training policy ordered DOCs to ensure the provision of a cadre of well-trained officers and NCOs to command and train their subunits, a nucleus of men trained in basic drill and duties, and for all to have a thorough understanding of weapons and elementary tactics (to be taught either at camp or with models). The

Militia wanted officers and NCOs who knew how to lead and fill their roles in the military structure.

With a war seemingly in the offing, the staff was hoping to have a cadre as ready as possible so that, upon mobilization, the army could take the field with as little delay as possible. In modern war, with its decentralization of command, greater responsibility rested on junior officers and NCOs. Both groups in the NPAM needed to be taught the art of leadership.4

Even with a stronger training policy, NPAM units found it difficult to maintain uniform standards, as they varied so much in size, quality, and the amount of money received from their district. Captain L. M. Chesley of the Victoria Rifles of Canada noted in a CDQ article:

It must be remembered that militia unit commanders and training officers vary as regards their ability to organize training and to supervise training. They are usually busy men with civilian business duties to be looked after, and while they may be excellent leaders of a volunteer unit, the varied demands of their civilian activities may preclude their giving sufficient attention to training – unless that training can be so organized as to be a smoothly running and more or less automatic machine.5

4Memorandum on Training of the Canadian Militia (Ottawa: J. O. Patenaude, 1934), 9-10; “Policy of Training 1935-36,” March 15, 1936, fol. HQ-33-196-1, RG 24, vol. 6288, NAC; Brigadier General H. F. H. Hertzberg, DOC Military District No.6, “Camp Commandant’s Report, Aldershot Camp, 1936,” August 1, 1936, fol. HQ-33-11-200, RG 24, vol. 6284, NAC; Ian Mackenzie, “Defence Forces of Canada, Mount Royal Hotel, Montreal, P.Q.,” April 28, 1938, fol. B-47, Mackenzie Papers, vol. 34, NAC. The battalions at Aldershot, led by their own officers, showed improvement over the previous year, particularly with platoon tactics.

5Captain L. M. Chesley, “Notes on the Training of the Volunteer Infantry Militiamen,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 14 (January 1937): 183. 296

Here was a plea for uniform training across Canada, rather than leaving unit training to the unit’s officers, which Chesley lamented in his article. If the Militia could ensure that each unit at least had good leaders, then a start could be made toward uniform training.

With the impact of the automobile on military operations apparent to Canadian officers,

“mounted” units had to improvise to conduct effective training. Private cars often substituted or supplemented what few armored or reconnaissance cars were in the Militia’s inventory. In one of the best examples, the 19th Alberta Dragoons arrived at Camp Sarcee with 72 privately-owned motor vehicles in 1936. They formed a “heterogeneous mass of gas buggies of all descriptions and vintages,” according to one Permanent Force instructor. The use of cars was common not only in motorized cavalry and armored car regiments, but also in the tank battalions. As in the 1920s and early 1930s, it was only through the use of stopgap measures that the Militia could conduct its training. The NPAM also practiced the latest techniques, even without the General Staff’s direction.

In 1936, the Governor-General’s Body Guard conducted an interesting experiment at its nine-day camp, practicing cavalry cooperation with aircraft while the signal troop experimented with using wireless radios to pass information between moving cars.6

Not every commander favored improvisation. Sarcee’s commandant preferred to use obsolete arms and “exclude imaginary armament of modern pattern rather than to allow units to assume that they were equipped with up-to-date weapons which they had never seen, much less handled. Such assumptions could . . . lead only to confusion and false situations.”7 Was it better to attempt modern

6“Short Report on District Camp, Sarcee 1937,” NAC; Graves, Century of Service, 194; Greenhous, Dragoon, 286; How, 8th Hussars, 96-97; Marteinson, Governor-General’s Horse Guards, 143.

7“Report on District Camp Training – Sarcee – 1936,” fol. HQ-33-24-207, RG 24, vol. 362, NAC. 297 training, even if done unrealistically using improvised means, or to practice past techniques that would need to be corrected upon declaration of war? The NPAM favored the makeshift rather than the archaic, incorporating as much modern elements into their training as the limited votes, weapons and equipment allowed. The soldiers at Sarcee in 1937 shared a single modern Bren light machine gun, which was used extensively for demonstration and training purposes. These militiamen were particularly fortunate as most of their peers still had not seen a Bren gun. Only in the winter of 1938-

39 could the General Staff organize a cross-Canada tour of the Militia’s recently acquired weapons, including a Bren gun, Boys antitank rifle, 3-inch mortar, and the latest infantry carrier. Most units merely got to look at the items.8

The NPAM received $2,559,499 for training in 1937-38, an increase of approximately

$200,000 from the previous year. For this money, only 623 more trained at local headquarters but

4,048 more trained at camp, again showing the preference of NPAM commanders to train their soldiers at camp. Even with increased training allowances, however, units still suffered because only a fraction of their ranks could attend camp. For example, the Lincoln and Welland Regiment, with a strength of 48 officers and 416 other ranks, received permission to bring only 37 officers and 196 men to camp that summer. Nonetheless, the NPAM still exhibited the same spirit of selfless service to country by training without expense to the public. For 1937-38, 1,547 officers and 10,546 other ranks trained at local headquarters and another 116 officers and 667 other ranks attended camps without public expense. This training period was the first chance for many units to conduct training in new roles. The NPAM’s reorganization forced numerous battalions, regiments, batteries, and

8“Short Report on District Camp, Sarcee 1937,” fol. HQ-33-24-211, RG 24, vol. 362, NAC; Cunniffe, Scarlet, Riflegreen and Khaki, 30, 31; Graves, Century of Service, 197. 298 companies to learn new weapons, tactics, and procedures. The training policy was similar to the previous year, except the General Staff directed infantry battalions to pay special attention to musketry for individual training and, for tactical training, to battle formations, section leading, platoon tactics, defense against gas and concealment from ground and aerial observation.9 Taking advantage of Ottawa’s positive mood regarding training, the NPAM practiced its craft as intensively as possible. DOCs tried to mass as many battalions together in camp as possible. Often far below full strength, they would be temporarily fused into full-strength battalions to enhance the quality of their training.

The RCAF participated extensively in the Militia’s training throughout Canada in 1937. At

Niagara-on-the-Lake, the RCAF launched mock attacks against troopers who responded by forming ranks to “fire” at the RCAF’s slow-moving, nearly obsolete planes. Another noteworthy feature of this camp was the irony of low-flying aircraft making it increasingly difficult for NPAM officers to qualify for equitation courses. At Sarcee, the RCAF joined in the reconnaissance exercises as a cavalry brigade commander directed one exercise from the air by radioing orders to his headquarters.

The RCAF aided artillery training at Petawawa by providing aerial observation and testing the concealment of battery positions. The RCAF also acted as the enemy, dropping flour “bombs.”

Finally, planes took pictures of exercises for lecture purposes.10 With the Militia increasingly reliant

9Passim, fol. HQ-33-199-1, RG 24, vol. 5893, NAC; “Policy of Training, 1937-38: NPAM,” December 10, 1936, fol. HQ-33-199-1, RG 24, vol. 5893, NAC; Lieutenant Colonel J. B. Dunbar, DOC Military District No.6, “Camp Commandant’s Report, Aldershot Camp, 1937,” September 7, 1937, fol. HQ-33-11-202, RG 24, vol. 6284, NAC; “Short Report on District Camp, Sarcee 1937,” NAC; DND, Report 1937, 39; DND, Report 1938, 38; DND, Report 1939, 12; How, 8th Hussars, 100; Rogers, History of the Lincoln and Welland Regiment, 92; Roy, Ready for the Fray, 59.

10“Report on Army Co-Operation Exercises at Petawawa Militia Camp – May 28th to August 28th Inclusive 1937,” fol. HQ-33-20-522, RG 24, vol. 356, NAC; “Short Report on District Camp, Sarcee 1937,” fol. HQ-33-24- 211, RG 24, vol. 362, NAC; Barnard, Queen’s Own Rifles of Canada, 129; Worthington, Spur and Sprocket, 78. 299 on the RCAF to assist in its training, it was clear Canadian officers recognized the importance of aircraft to their profession’s future. This limited form of air-ground cooperation was a far cry from the -style way of war that the Germans would unleash in 1939-40. Canada’s Militia still had much to relearn about combined arms warfare, but it lacked the time, money, and resources to master such doctrine before the outbreak of hostilities.

The NPAM’s training budget rose to $2,812,234 in 1938-39. This money allowed the training of more troops, with 40,686 drilling at local headquarters and 29,103 attending camps. The latter number is particularly striking, as it represented a sizeable increase over the previous year’s tally of 17,997. Overall, 5,272 officers and 41,249 other ranks received training this year. The 1938-

39 training policy recognized that the Militia’s new combat arms had to begin specialized training.

The General Staff wanted tank battalions to focus on machine gun drills, tank drill with models or hired motorized transport, and the study of tank tactics until suitable equipment, training devices, and facilities became available. The same held true for armored car regiments. Cavalry regiments, horseback and mechanized, received orders to conduct tactical exercises that simulated their role during a withdrawal, including flank protection.11

The district officers in British Columbia staged several camps that summer. The infantry battalions and support units at an eight-day camp in Sydney conducted exercises such as an attack by an advance guard battalion, the occupation of a defensive position, and a withdrawal under pressure. Demonstrating the growing interest in the NPAM on Canada’s western coast, 25 percent

11Major R. O. G. Martin for CGS, “Forecast of Training 1938-39,” January 12, 1938, fol. HQ-33-201-1- vol.1, RG 24, vol. 6288, NAC; DND, Report 1939, 12, 40; DND, Report 1940, 49. 300 of attendees enlisted just prior to the camp.12 Troop inexperience hindered the exercises initially, but matters improved by the end of the camp. Officers demonstrated many deficiencies, such as taking too long in conducting reconnaissance, issuing lengthy and elaborate orders, clinging to parade- ground formations, and exercising poor control over deployed troops. In fairness, this was the first large camp of this duration that the province had seen in many years, and the commandant still judged a “satisfactory standard was obtained.” Rustiness showed at a cavalry camp in Kamloops attended by the British Columbia Dragoons, the British Columbia Hussars (Armored Car), and No.11

Armored Car Regiment Signal Troop. The dragoons brought 18 officers, 108 other ranks, and 105 horses to camp; the hussars 22 officers, 115 other ranks, 13 cars and 10 motorcycles; and the signal troop one officer and 24 other ranks. The hussars followed their own syllabus until the tactical maneuvers. That exercise featured the dragoons raiding lines of communication guarded by the hussars. The maneuvers exposed some officers’ lack of leadership. The inefficient signal troop suffered from meager technical training. Marginal notes found on a copy of the camp report, the observations of a member of the General Staff, blamed the problems with signals and the need for more tactical exercises on the DOC. Perhaps the DOC could have cultivated better leadership skills.

But the NPAM officers must also bear some responsibility; if they wanted to be proficient at their secondary profession, they had to take the time to learn and practice those skills. Finally, battalions also held their own camps in British Columbia, usually focusing on tactical exercises.13

12Early in 1938, the Victoria Chamber of Commerce sent the prime minister a letter regarding the “adequate defence of the Pacific Coast.” It wanted King to allot more money to the Militia because the Japanese nationals in British Columbia could prove to be “a serious menace.” Harold Husband to William Lyon Mackenzie King, February 5, 1938, Mackenzie King Papers, Reel C-3734, 214653-54, NAC.

13“Camp Commandant’s Report on Sydney Training Camp,” August 29, 1938, fol. HQ-33-119-12, RG 24, vol. 6285, NAC; Lieutenant Colonel C. E. Connolly, “Camp Commandant’s Report on Training Camp Held at Kamloops, B.C.,” June 15, 1938, fol. HQ-33-72-14, RG 24, vol. 6284, NAC; Roy, Ready for the Fray, 59; Roy, 301

The military district commander in Alberta devised the NPAM’s training at Sarcee to develop the leadership of officers by training their own men. The camp collected nearly all the province’s

NPAM units. The combined exercise marked the culmination of local headquarters drill and elementary tactical training at camp. The plan was based on a conduct of a defensive battle, the

General Staff’s “tactical subject for study” for the summer training period. The RCAF, flying decrepit Armstrong Whitworth Atlas biplanes, conducted “bombing” runs, aerial observation, and communicating with ground troops by dropped messages. With the presence of cars from the 19th

Alberta Dragoons, it must have all seemed rather modern to some of the NPAM. But the past intruded on the camp. One exercise featured the Lord Strathcona’s Horse conducting a cavalry charge against a trench line occupied by the South Alberta Regiment. The exercise ended with the umpires improbably ruling that the horsemen had won the engagement.14

The NPAM held several smaller camps in Ontario, but these were notable more for their differences than their similarities. The Royal Regiment of Canada conducted a night tactical exercise in which the soldiers dug trenches before camouflaging them and erecting wire entanglements.

Signals motorcycles and light cars from the Governor-General’s Horse Guards cooperated with the

RCAF at the former’s nine-day camp. These exercises established how the tempo of horse cavalry operations could be accelerated and made more effective. Pinehill held a large camp with 2,346 of all ranks attending, nearly 200 more than authorized. Notably, the Essex Regiment (Tank) exceeded its authorized quota of 150 by 82 men, indicating the early enthusiasm of this battalion. An RCAF

Seaforth Highlanders, 47, 48.

14“Short Report on District Camp Sarcee 1938,” n.d., fol. HQ-33-24-214, RG 24, vol. 362, NAC; Graves, Century of Service, 195. 302 plane reported troop movements to brigade headquarters during the exercises and launched mock attacks against both sides. The camp tried to incorporate as much modernity as possible by using motorized transport for signals, medical, and machine-gun units. But the Militia’s chronic shortage of modern weapons was highlighted by units having to use colored flags attached to service rifles to represent Bren guns and antitank rifles.15

In Quebec, approximately 500 officers and men attended the NPAM’s district camp. The eight-day affair was one of the longest and most comprehensive in the province since the First World

War. Its small size, however, signified that the desire to join the NPAM did not run as high in

Quebec as in the rest of Canada. As at other camps, this one relied on improvised apparatuses such as mock tanks and armored cars. The units also used flags to represent antitank guns and machine guns in the tactical exercises.16

In 1938, the No. 2 (Army Cooperation) Squadron’s seven Atlas biplanes participated in numerous camps. RCAF detachments took part in other NPAM exercises throughout Canada. In

August, the squadron joined No. 3 (Bomber) Squadron at Camp Borden for the Permanent Force’s concentration. Despite the RCAF’s new willingness to cooperate with the ground forces, it spent only 1,700 flying hours on combined operations training with the Militia and RCN in 1938, compared to 22,500 hours devoted to transportation, training, and other routine flying.17

15“Camp Commandant’s Report, Pinehill Camp, Military District No.1, June 27th to July 2nd , 1938,” fol. HQ-33-200-4, RG 24, vol. 6288, NAC; Goodspeed, Battle Royal, 349; Marteinson, Governor-General’s Horse Guards, 146.

16Hutchinson, Canada’s Black Watch, 181; Worthington, Spur and Sprocket, 79.

17Douglas, Creation of a National Air Force, 147, 149. 303

Numerous Permanent Force units concentrated at Borden for their largest meeting since 1930.

After the earlier maneuvers, it was only possible for one or two regiments to concentrate at a time.

Attending Borden were the Royal Canadian Dragoons, the RCHA (less “C” Battery), the Royal

Canadian Artillery’s 3rd Medium Battery and 4th Anti-Aircraft Battery, the Royal Canadian

Engineers’ 1st Field Company and No.2 Detachment, the Royal Canadian Regiment, Royal 22e

Régiment, and various detachments from the ancillary corps. Most of the Royal Canadian Regiment, as well as detachments from several Permanent Force services, concentrated at Niagara-on-the-Lake before going to Borden. A junior officer commented on the Niagara training: “We were sadly lacking in field experience as a battalion, which was a source of great distress to some of our senior officers, who of course suffered the bulk of criticism. We had become hopelessly bureaucratic and it was deemed impossible for a battalion to perform even the simplest operation without issuing a four-page order to at least forty addresses.”18 This situation did not bode well for the Borden concentration.

The four-week camp at Borden was divided into three weeks for regimental and special weapons training and one week for collective training. There were demonstrations and exercises for new weapons, including the Bren gun and 3-inch mortar. As at NPAM camps, flags often represented nonexistent weapons in the Permanent Force’s maneuvers. The final four days of the camp were for a tactical exercise in which two NPAM infantry battalions and the RCAF also participated. The exercise involved a mechanized move of 45 miles, an approach march, an attack, and an occupation of a defensive position. The General Staff characterized the camp as “an

18DND, Report 1939, 12, 31-32, 40; Stevens, Royal Canadian Regiment, 2: 10, 11. 304 opportunity for higher training which the permanent force has so sadly lacked in the past and will fit them to hand on the lessons learned to the non-permanent militia.”19

According to historian Stephen Harris, the combined maneuvers demonstrated that the

Permanent Force had not learned from the previous eight years of unpracticed doctrinal instruction.

Simply, the regulars could not apply what they had read. Sloppy and ill-advised tactical deployments characterized the exercises. Historian Brereton Greenhous commented negatively on the infantry, cavalry, and command and control of the force. He characterized advances as unnecessarily slow, cooperation as lax, and all arms poorly applying combined tactics. He judged that only the artillery and service detachments fared well. The dragoons, for example, took too long to deal with a single enemy armored fighting vehicle in an “advance to contact” exercise. The advance was delayed considerably as the troopers maneuvered to flank the vehicle instead of seeking artillery support. In a more sophisticated exercise, stiff opposition caused one commander to become too cautious. On a different axis, however, a cavalry officer pressed forward from a “destroyed” bridge, capturing two enemy cars.20 Both historians are slightly unfair. Few Canadian regimental officers and other ranks had seen large-scale exercises, and even fewer – if not none – had participated in them. Any officer who might have seen such maneuvers, such as while on course in Britain, was probably serving in the General Staff.

Prime Minister King observed part of the regimental training. He watched a small operation of trucks moving infantry as well as cavalry and tanks returning from exercises. He saw a Vickers tank, the closest thing to a modern armored fighting vehicle in the entire Militia, but a model that was

19DND, Report 1939, 31; Toronto Globe & Mail, June 27, 1938, 1; Greenhous, Dragoon, 291.

20Greenhous, Dragoon, 291-93; Harris, Canadian Brass, 198. 305 sixteen years old and no longer the British Army’s standard tank.21 King came away from his visit with what nearly two decades of neglect had done to the Militia:

I confess the effect of the visit was on the whole depressing. To begin with, such buildings as there are, are very dilapidated and out of date; fire traps, primitive kind of sanitary arrangements. The ground is overgrown with poison ivy; except for a muddy stream, there is no water for bathing, and there is little in the way of interest for the men at the Camp. . . . It seemed to me that life was exceedingly hard for the young men, as it expressed only privation. . . . Men must have some great ideal of service or heroism in their breasts to engage in the work of the kind to enable them to go on.22

The Vickers tank that King saw belonged to the Canadian Armored Fighting Vehicle School

(CAFVS). The school’s inventory of vehicles in 1938 included twelve Carden-Loyd machine gun carriers, two newly arrived Vickers Mark VI B tanks, and a Dragon artillery gun tractor discarded by the Royal Canadian Artillery. During regimental training, the CAFVS gave the dragoons an intensive four-day course in tank gunnery and conducted four exercises with the Royal Canadian

Regiment. Three of the exercises focused on tank-infantry cooperation while the fourth taught antitank tactics to the infantry. One exercise involved an infantry battalion working with a tank company, which required the entire school’s staff, including clerks who had no previous mechanical training, because the school only had five drivers for its fifteen vehicles.23

The CAFVS served as the defensive force in the final collective tactical exercise at Borden, often outperforming the other arms. According to Larry Worthington, only a few “die-hards” in the

21Larson, British Army, 121.

22Mackenzie King Diary, August 19, 1938.

23Worthington, “Training Report,” September 26, 1938, NAC; Marteinson and McNorgan, R.C.A.C., 75. The Vickers tanks arrived on August 10, requiring an intensive course for key personnel before the opening of the Permanent Force camp in September. The CAFVS at Borden could be considered a “pocket version” of the Fort Knox experiment under Major General Adna Chaffee, Jr. Jarymowycz, Tank Tactics, 33. 306

Militia still believed in the superiority of infantry and cavalry over even a small mechanized armored force. Lieutenant Colonel F. F. Worthington, CAFVS commandant, felt many lessons were learned from the final exercise, particularly regarding light tanks, though he did not share these lessons in his report. During the exercise, the school worked alongside the NPAM’s Royal Regiment of

Canada. Worthington noted that the regiment had no idea how to properly cooperate in tank-infantry operations.24 As the camp represented the first opportunity for such operations in Canada, that comment is not surprising.

The General Staff formed the CAFVS during the 1936 Militia reorganization. The school’s initial personnel were taken from the Royal Canadian Artillery and the Permanent Force’s two cavalry and three infantry regiments. One officer and three other ranks were chosen from each, making a total of 24 of all ranks. The school’s primary duty was to train the personnel from the six

NPAM tank battalions. According to General Ashton, the most important phase of this training was the care and maintenance of armored fighting vehicles. He wanted the battalions properly instructed so that when the NPAM received expensive tanks, they would be properly treated. Just as with a similar order in 1927, there was no place for vehicle wastage in the interwar Canadian Militia. The school did not begin operations until April 1938 as its key personnel received instruction at the Royal

Tank Corps Central Schools in Great Britain.25

24Worthington, “Training Report,” September 26, 1938, NAC; Worthington, Spur and the Sprocket, 79. Lieutenant Colonel Worthington, it will be recalled, conducted the Carden-Loyd tactical trials in 1931. Greenhous, Dragoon, 278, 284.

25Major General E. C. Ashton to Adjutant General, January 22, 1937, fol. 9801-17-2, RG 24, vol. 149, NAC; DND, Report 1937, 42; Worthington, Spur and the Sprocket, 77. Ashton was the quartermaster general who issued the 1927 order mentioned above. 307

The CAFVS taught four two-week courses during summer 1938 for the NPAM tank battalions. The main object in these courses was to teach the basic principles of tank operation and maintenance so the attendees could return to their units and pass on the knowledge. Full qualification in tank operations was impossible in such a short period. The two-week course had 80 periods of instruction, including 20 for driving and maintenance, 20 for armament, 25 for tactics, and

15 in a “Commandant’s Pool” for Colonel Worthington to emphasize certain points. Among the pool subjects were mounted drill, march discipline, night driving, and laagering. Worthington insisted that classroom sessions were immediately followed by practical training in the field or vehicle bay to reinforce the lessons.26

Worthington’s report on the first training season called on Ottawa for better support. The school lacked adequate personnel, training appliances, and tools. The school needed more gunners and drivers. One consequence of the personnel shortage was the difficulty in keeping the grounds in order, resulting in the dilapidated conditions that King mentioned during his visit. The school used an old RCAF hangar to store and maintain their vehicles. Personnel were constantly scraping to get items, often improvising or scrounging for them. One example of this activity was using funds designated for nails to instead purchase concrete for the target range. There were few spare parts for the Vickers tanks and an inadequate provision of ammunition and smoke projectiles.

Notwithstanding such difficulties, the General Staff believed the school had made marked progress

26Laagering was the procedure where tanks formed a defensive circle. Worthington, “Training Report,” September 26, 1938, NAC; Marteinson and McNorgan, R.C.A.C., 74. Four of the NPAM tank battalions sent two shipments of officers and other ranks to Borden that first summer; two battalions sent only one shipment. In total, 44 officers and 40 other ranks attended courses that summer. In addition, the Ontario Regiment (Tank), which had sent only one group of officers and NCOs to Borden, conducted its annual training under the school’s auspices. Of the tank regiments, the Ontario Regiment (Tank) sent the largest single contingent with 19 officers and NCOS, but the Calgary Regiment (Tank) sent two groups for the largest total contingent of 20 officers and NCOs. 308 and rated its administration as good.27 It was characteristic of the Militia’s impoverishment during the interwar years that so many improvisations and sacrifices were required for a unit to gain efficiency.

This situation extended to the NPAM tank battalions. Three of the regiments shared armories with other units, leading to overcrowding in those facilities. Worthington advocated the Militia supply these new units with certain equipment to aid their local training. The equipment list included engines, engine parts, tools, the short film “Element of the Automobile,” a RYPA (roll, yaw, pitch, and alteration) machine,28 and numerous wireless sets. The Essex and Ontario battalions were fortunate enough to receive some of this equipment from patrons and local industries, otherwise little of it was forthcoming from Ottawa. Half of the battalions lacked an adequate number of revolvers and ammunition and only two regiments were issued berets, as was customary for imperial tank battalions. Worthington unrealistically wished the Militia could provide tanks or Carden-Loyds to the regiments to aid their training.29

The personnel of the NPAM tank battalions were willing to sacrifice their time and donate their pay like most other militia units during the interwar period. The tank personnel tried their best to conduct their training as realistically as possible, but the problem of having tank battalions filled with recruits who had yet to see a tank was an obvious detriment. One inferior solution was hit upon already. The Calgary Regiment (Tank) initially rigged three dummy tanks by placing burlap over

27Ibid.; Brigadier F. Logie Armstrong, “Annual Inspection Report of Canadian Armoured Fighting Vehicle School, 1938,” November 30, 1938, fol. HQC-7915, RG 24, Reel C-5121, NAC; Worthington, ‘Worthy’, 149.

28The RYPA, a key training apparatus, enabled gunners to practice marksmanship on a miniature course using a pellet gun. The CAFVS acquired one during summer 1938. Worthington, ‘Worthy’, 151.

29Worthington, “Training Report,” September 26, 1938, NAC; Richard G. Maltby, The Calgary Regiment (Hilversum: De Jong, 1945), 4. 309 frames attached to motorcycles. Then the battalion created four mock tanks by fitting a canvas and plywood superstructure over cars. Finally, the unit built six mock tanks of sheet metal welded to cars.30 These sham tanks must have reminded some of when they played “cowboys and Indians” on wooden horses as children. The NPAM personnel could not be blamed for wanting to do something rather than nothing, and at least such activities demonstrated innovation and a willingness to learn, even if their camp training was more surreal than realistic.

The school and tank battalions’ situation and problems were a microcosm of the Militia’s in the interwar period. They had to do without adequate equipment, and most of what they had was acquired by their own actions and the generosity of others. When the school finally got more tanks, fourteen Vickers machine-gun models that arrived with no spare parts, it was August 1939 and too late for them to be of much use before the war started.31

The 1939 training season turned out to be the last before the Second World War broke out.

The government voted $2,930,488 for the 1939-40 training season but only $1,261,166.40 was spent by August 31, 1939, most of which went to camp training. The NPAM trained 43,241 officers and men at local headquarters before that date and 30,648 at camp.32 These figures were only marginally more than the previous year, but reflected Ottawa’s increasing ability and desire to fund preparedness, a major change for the interwar period.

The Militia’s training in 1939 was again characterized by diversity. For some units, their training was similar to what they might have received in 1914, except for lectures on gas, tactics

30Cunniffe, Scarlet, Riflegreen and Khaki, 30; Graves, Century of Service, 196-97; Maltby, Calgary Regiment, 3-4.

31Worthington, ‘Worthy’, 154.

32DND, Report 1940, 12, 35. 310 against armored cars, protection from air attacks, and the construction of antitank obstacles. The camp at Sarcee ended with a field exercise of an infantry brigade of four battalions facing two regiments of cavalry. The exercise was marred by using tactics that the First World War had already discredited, a cavalry charge against infantry arrayed on a hilltop. The DOC of Military District No.

2 criticized the Governor-General’s Horse Guards for concentrating too much on ceremonial evolutions at the expense of more practical topics. On the other hand, the Royal Regiment of Canada practiced more ambitious tactical exercises, such as a seven-mile march to a bivouac, a night march to an assembly area, and then a dawn attack. The Halifax Rifles held numerous collective and combined exercises in this period, mainly in conjunction with the Permanent Force, but also one with the RCN. The NPAM units at Pinehill camp held numerous combined exercises. Some commanders had improved their performance but some junior officers suffered problems due to inexperience, particularly platoon and section leaders.33

The RCAF was again present at numerous NPAM camps in 1939. This year was the first that the RCAF actually possessed a modern first-line fighter in the Hawker Hurricane, with the first shipment of those planes arriving in June. Two RCAF squadrons worked with the NPAM at Sarcee in 1939, No. 1 (Fighter) Squadron outfitted with Hurricanes and No. 3 (Bomber) flying Westland

Wapitis, a two-seater biplane. Previously, NPAM units were instructed that infantry caught in the open should fire at an attacking plane. Against the slow-moving Wapiti, this drill seemed a realistic response to air attack, but when the infantry repeated it against the swifter Hurricane, the soldiers

33“Camp Commandant’s Report, Pinehill Camp, Military District No.1, June 24th to July 2nd , 1939,” fol. HQ-33-200-4, RG 24, vol. 6288, NAC; DND, Report 1940, 28; Goodspeed, Battle Royal, 352; Marteinson, Governor-General’s Horse Guards, 147-48; Quigley, Century of Rifles, 109, 110; Roy, For Most Conspicuous Bravery, 133; Williams, Far from Home, 119, 121, 122. 311 realized the improbability of downing such a craft with rifle fire. By the time the infantry first heard the Hurricane approaching to the time they had deployed in a firing line, the fighter had already completed its pass. Other RCAF missions at Sarcee included artillery observation and flying tactical and photo reconnaissance missions for the Militia.34

II

Jeffrey Williams enlisted in May 1937 because he was interested in the military, he had friends in the regiment, and he felt a war was coming. He commented in his memoirs that the

Calgary Highlanders had its full complement of officers and NCOs when he joined, but few privates.

Of these privates, most were little more than schoolboys like him or “professional privates” – old soldiers who stayed in the regiment for the comradeship of the mess. Williams represented a new trend of increased enlistments for the Militia. The actual strength of the NPAM fluctuated at the end of the 1930s, but the numbers receiving training steadily increased after 1931-32 and then took a jump between the 1937-38 training period and the beginning of the Second World War. The NPAM trained 39,992 of all ranks in 1936-37, and that number increased to 46,521 in 1938-39. Recruiting picked up as more and more Canadians became aware of the global danger and joined their local regiments. There were also appeals in the late 1930s to form new battalions, or relocate existing ones, to localities that lacked NPAM units.35

In some cases the increased recruitment was quite dramatic. The Royal Hamilton Light

Infantry (Wentworth Regiment) jumped from 207 officers and men to 401 between 1937 and 1938.

34Douglas, Creation of a National Air Force, 150; Williams, Far from Home, 119, 121, 122.

35For example, there were requests from individuals in Flin Flon and Baldur, Manitoba, and Jasper, Alberta. Passim, fol. HQ-6006-vol.2, RG 24, vol. 6607, NAC; DND, Report 1940, 49; Barnard, Queen’s Own Rifles of Canada, 137; Roy, Sinews of Steel, 98-99; Williams, Far from Home, 88. 312

In Alberta, the NPAM’s strength by the end of the decade was more than double what it was at the beginning. In 1930, the provincial total was 1,384 of all ranks and it rose to 3,004 by 1939.

Modernizing, if on a limited basis, served as an incentive for recruitment. The 8th Princess Louise’s

New Brunswick Hussars trained as mechanized cavalry in 1936 and the senior officers were pleased with the results, particularly the enthusiasm shown by the unit in adapting to new drill and tactics.

The hussars’ commander, Lieutenant Colonel K. S. Kennedy, felt a mechanized cavalry regiment attracted a “better type of young officer and man” because it offered training in vehicles.36

Not all Militia units enjoyed recruitment increases. The lack of modern arms, equipment, or adequate uniforms deterred some would-be soldiers from enlisting. As well, technical units did not experience the same increases as more combat-oriented branches. Of the 22 engineer companies authorized under the 1936 reorganization, only seven were active by 1938.37

The increased interest in the NPAM placed even more demands on the overstretched

Permanent Force officers. By the end of 1937, the Royal Canadian Regiment had a strength of 34 officers and 420 enlisted men, slightly more than half of its war establishment. It was often chronically short of officers as several left the Militia or were detached for service with the General

Staff. Their Quebec counterparts in the Royal 22eRégiment mustered only 184 of all ranks in March

1939. In contrast to the NPAM, the Permanent Force added little to its strength at the end of the

1930s. As of March 31, 1936, the actual strength of the Permanent Force stood at 4,002 officers and men. That same year, the NPAM trained 39,806 officers and men. Three years later, the Permanent

36Brigadier L. Paget, DOC Military District No. 7, to Department of National Defense, January 26, 1937, fol. HQC-6723, RG 24, Reel C-5088, NAC; L. E. Haines to Ian Mackenzie, February 22, 1938, fol. HQ-6009-vol.2, RG 24, vol. 6607, NAC; Graves, Century of Service, 195; Greenhous, Semper Paratus, 163.

37Brigadier General George R. Pearkes, DOC Military District No.13, to CGS, May 18, 1939, fol. HQ- 6009-vol.2, RG 24, vol. 6607, NAC; Kerry & McDill, Royal Canadian Engineers, 2: 3. 313

Force numbered 4,169, whereas the NPAM trained 46,521. In comparison, the Permanent Force’s strength rose a mere 4 percent compared to the NPAM’s nearly 17 percent increase in the number of men trained. The lack of regulars to instruct the Militia Staff Course sometimes required NPAM officers to teach the increasing number of their peers who took that course in the late 1930s. In 1938-

39, the number taking the theoretical portion of the Militia Staff Course was 220, compared to the

163 officers enrolled in 1929-30.38 These numbers also demonstrated that more part-time officers were interested in furthering their military education and their ability to defend Canada.

While the Militia Staff Course was intended for captains and majors, the Advanced Militia

Staff Course (AMSC) was for majors and lieutenant colonels. The General Staff recognized that it needed to better prepare those NPAM leaders who might lead their regiments and serve in senior staff positions. The AMSC began in 1935 and asked participants to consider diverse topics such as the organization and command of large military formations and the natural resources of countries.

The course was directed by Colonel Ken Stuart. The AMSC asked a lot of participants and required them to sacrifice even more of their own time than they already had as NPAM officers. The course could, and did, cut into the professional lives of participants.39

Just before General Ashton left the CGS office in late November 1938, he petitioned the government to enlarge the Permanent Force. Ashton tried to defend an increase of $515,185 for the

Permanent Force in the Militia’s projected 1939-40 budget. He claimed the Permanent Force needed the increase to hire 319 new officers and soldiers so that it could carry out its duties more

38DND, Report 1930, 18; DND, Report 1936, 75; DND, Report 1939, 46, 70; DND, Report 1940, 49; Graham, Citizen and Soldier, 107; Stacey, Six Years of War, 34; Stevens, Royal Canadian Regiment, 2: 10.

39Graham, Citizen and Soldier, 103, 104. 314 expeditiously, particularly instructing the NPAM. This small increase was what Ashton felt the government might accept. Ideally, Ashton wanted the government’s authorization for the Permanent

Force to recruit up to its full authorization of 10,000 of all ranks or, failing that, its peace establishment of 6,928. In the end, the government authorized $6,087,760 for 1939-40, a minuscule increase over the $6,078,199 the Permanent Force received in 1938-39.40

III

With all the financial restrictions on Canada’s soldiers, one thing that they could do for free was think critically about their profession – just as General McNaughton had encouraged them to do.

The Militia’s intellectual highlight in the years before the Second World War was a debate two promising officers conducted in the pages of the Canadian Defence Quarterly. Over several issues,

Lieutenant Colonel E. L. M. Burns and Captain Guy Simonds argued over the proper place for tanks in the British Army’s (and thus the Militia’s) force structure.

The debate started in the April 1938 issue with Burns’ article, “A Division That Can Attack,” a discussion of a British division’s composition. Burns suggested using tanks to increase its offensive power. He argued that infantry, the primary shock arm since the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, had lost that position in the Great War. Infantry’s ability to deliver shock – “the effect of mass moving at speed” – was essentially gone because it could no longer assault without sustaining unacceptably high casualties. But infantry remained vital to consolidating gains and resisting counterattacks. Tanks, on the other hand, could still deliver shock due to two factors. First, armies

40Major General E. C. Ashton, “Memorandum,” November 16, 1938, Mackenzie King Papers, Reel C- 3735, 216217-216220, NAC; DND, Report 1940, 12, 15. The Permanent Force was unable to recruit experienced soldiers due to its restricted finances. George Kitching, who had served with the Glosters Regiment in Britain and rose to become a major general during the Second World War, could not find employment with the Permanent Force until September 1939. He had been trying since 1938 to catch on with Canada’s regulars. George Kitching, Mud and Green Fields: The Memoirs of Major-General George Kitching (St. Catherines: Vanwell Publishing, 1992), 76. 315 employed fewer antitank weapons than machine guns. Second, a tank could travel 500 to 800 yards in three minutes under good conditions, as opposed an infantryman’s pace of 100 yards in that time.

For Burns, the question was whether tanks could succeed without infantry. Drawing on his Great

War experience, Burns argued that a defender was not defeated when his lines were breached, but when his cohesion was broken. His artillery and, if possible, headquarters must be put out of commission by a rapid advance which only tanks could manage. Therefore, a tank assault had a better chance of defeating an enemy than an infantry or even an infantry-tank assault.

Burns’ idea for a new division replaced one of the three infantry brigades in the current division with a tank brigade.41 He contended his division was substantially more powerful offensively and did not suffer defensively because the tank brigade could counterattack more effectively than an infantry brigade. If the division had mechanical transport for its infantry, its mobility would rival the “Mobile Divisions” that were beginning to appear in France and Germany.

Burns realized his division would be expensive because it contained so many vehicles, but, he observed, “Elijah [J. F. C.] Fuller and Elijah [B. H. Liddell] Hart point out nothing is more expensive than an army which is inefficient for its purposes.”42

In the July 1938 issue, Simonds answered Burns with “‘An Army that can Attack – a Division that can Defend.’” Simonds argued that Burns had ignored the question of whether a division that

41Ironically, while Burns commanded the during the Italian campaign in 1944, the British Eighth Army gave permission to its armored divisions to increase their infantry component to two brigades. Colonel C. P. Stacey, The Canadian Army 1939-1945: An Official Historical Summary (Ottawa: King’s Printer, 1948),, 147.

42Lieutenant Colonel E. L. M. Burns, “A Division That Can Attack,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 15 (April 1938): 286-97. Burns contended that a tank’s mobility and protection gave it two tactical uses, shock action and traditional cavalry. He believed medium tanks offered the best combination of speed, firepower, and armor but criticized the infantry tank as a “retrogression in tactical ideas.” Speed and numbers were better guarantors of success than thicker armor. He suggested that modern armies should have four arms: medium tanks, light tanks, infantry, and artillery. 316 could attack on its own was needed. Simonds claimed that the British Army needed an army capable of offensive action but divisions ready for defensive action. Britain’s industry, supporting the other military services and maintaining exports, could only provide limited quantities of offensive weapons to its army. Therefore, it was illogical to design the division for offensive action. In addition, if every division was capable of attacking, the British would revert to the policy of 1916-17, “being offensive everywhere and all the time.” Implementation of Burns’ suggestion would disperse the

British army’s “hitting power” to impotent divisional “penny packets,” rather than concentrating it at the disposal of the army commander who controlled the battle. Only in approach marches or broken battles did leading divisions or brigades require offensive elements. Therefore, the basic formation must be “a division that can hold,” and to which offensive elements could be attached as necessary. The army commander justified his existence by the “skillful handling and distribution of his [limited] offensive elements” to where the need was greatest. Simonds foresaw Britain fighting defensive battles in any future continental conflicts, rather than sweeping offensives.43

Burns replied with “Where Do The Tanks Belong?” in October 1938. Burns argued the division was originally designed to be “a self-contained body of troops of all arms.” If the British were to commit divisions to a European war, they should be capable of handling any mission, except sieges, rather than just defensive operations. In a mobile war, where divisions might have to advance, attack, retire, defend, and guard in various directions over the course of several days, it would be extremely difficult for the higher command to be constantly shifting offensive elements.

Burns added: “The theory of reserving all tanks for decisive roles breaks down when the enemy has

43Captain G. G. Simonds, “‘An Army that can Attack – a Division that can Defend’,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 15 (July 1938): 415-17. 317 the initiative, for it is then impossible to tell what the decisive time or place will be – until the decisive moment has passed. Counter-attack is indispensable to our present doctrine of the locality or elastic defense. . . . No commander, if asked whether he would like to have tanks for counter- attacking would say that he preferred unarmoured infantry.” In comparison, Burns recognized that modern battlefields would be mobile and fluid, whereas Simonds seemed to believe that methodical set-piece attacks would still be the primary mode of attack in the British Commonwealth armies.

By having tanks in a division with infantry and artillery, all arms learned to cooperate with each other. If a commander was unfamiliar with tanks, Burns argued, that would prevent him from using them effectively in combined operations. Burns believed tanks failed in 1916-17 because the generals did not understand their capabilities. He wondered if every British general knew all there was to know about tanks even now. Burns contended that his division was designed to prevent the failures of the Great War, not repeat them: “It is too true that many of the 1916-17 offensives were badly planned and executed, and wasted thousands of valuable lives. That is not an argument against the offensive, but against not knowing how to conduct an offensive. One of the surest ways to repeat the failures of those days is to retain as the normal basic formation of the British Army a division which is incapable of attacking . . . with its own resources.”44

The next article in the debate was Simonds’ “What Price Assault Without Support?”

Appearing in January 1939, it ridiculed Burns’ contention that a current division, which Simonds believed was no longer capable of winning strategic results in continental warfare, needed to be all- arms. With the increase in antitank weapons, sending unsupported tanks in the place of unsupported

44Lieutenant Colonel E. L. M. Burns, “Where Do Tanks Belong?” Canadian Defence Quarterly 16 (October 1938): 30, 31. 318 infantry was reckless doctrine. Indeed, Simonds suggested Burns’ division would be unable to attack because it lacked the necessary fire support elements. He suggested that commanders should learn important offensive lessons about all-arms cooperation, including aircraft, in training.45

Finally, Simonds published “The Attack” in the July 1939 CDQ. This article was important because of its timing on the very eve of war. Simonds suggested that the Militia’s training was unrealistic given the challenge it was likely to face in a future conflict. The Militia’s training was predicated on British training manuals, which by necessity, had to visualize operations against a wide variety of enemies and on an equally wide variety of terrains.46 What Simonds left unspoken was who he believed the Canadian Militia would end up fighting.

For an attack, Simonds advised that a study of the battlefield and conditions would reveal which arm should be the main assaulting arm, and not dogmatic assertions beforehand. Simonds believed a successful attack depended upon tank-infantry cooperation to capture or destroy the enemy, although the infantry would still provide the “coup de grace.” In training, infantry should practice all-arms cooperation, rather than “unrealistic attacks, supported by a battery firing a concentration and ‘fighting their way forward with their own weapons’ over open fields of fire.” In

Simonds’ opinion, the present Militia training focused on proving that “Infantry [was] the Queen of

Battles.” Cooperation needed to be studied from the highest levels down to infantry section leaders and tank crews. In the absence of training with tanks, infantry should direct their training toward

45Captain G. G. Simonds, “What Price Assault Without Support?” Canadian Defence Quarterly 16 (January 1939): 142-47. Simonds would try to use mobility, massed artillery and surprise as corps commander of the II Canadian Corps during Operations TOTALIZE and TRACTABLE during the Normandy Campaign in the Second World War. Two excellent examinations for the operations are: English, Failure in High Command and Brian A. Reid, No Holding Back: Operation Totalize, Normandy, August 1944 (Toronto: Robin Bass Studio, 2005).

46Captain G. G. Simonds, “The Attack,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 16 (July 1939): 379-90. 319 exploiting a gap by advancing with exposed flanks and infiltration tactics, forcing the crossing of tank obstacles, fighting in close country, woods, and villages, and night attacks.47 If anything,

Simonds was observing that the Militia’s training followed the old adage of preparing for the last war rather than the next one. His points were valid, but hard for the Militia to implement as long as it struggled with few modern weapons and limited resources, particularly regarding the number of tanks available and their centralized placement at the CAFVS.

These five articles, written by two officers who would command corps during the Second

World War, demonstrated that Canadian officers could critically analyze military trends without the benefit of extensive experience with modern arms.48 Indeed, Simonds’ last article is almost a guide on how he would fight key battles in Normandy in 1944. In comparison, according to historian

David E. Johnson, American service journals were mainly used to reinforce official doctrine and that

“freewheeling discussions” were rare.49 From Burns and Simonds’ readings of the manuals, theories, and pamphlets, they formulated alternatives to organizational and attack doctrine. Freshly home from Camberley’s Staff College, Simonds used the knowledge he gained there to inform his views in these articles.50 Burns and Simonds may have been truly exceptional for their intellectual abilities,

47Ibid.

48In the war, Burns’ command of I Canadian Corps in Italy was marred by tough fighting, limited results, and contentious subordinates. He was relieved and spent the rest of the war with in command of the Canadian Section. Simonds led the II Canadian Corps from Normandy in 1944 until the end of the war, even temporarily commanding . Simonds is considered by many historians to be Canada’s best general of the Second World War, mainly because Field Marshal Bernard L. Montgomery’s rated him as such. English, Failure in High Command, 137, 187, 208; Granatstein, Generals, 141-44.

49David E. Johnson, “From Frontier Constabulary to Modern Army: The U.S. Army between the World Wars,” in Harold Winton and David R. Mets, eds., The Challenge of Change: Military Institutions and New Realities, 1918-1941 (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2000), 187.

50Graham, Price of Command, 34. 320 but their activities indicate that the Militia, for all its disadvantages during the interwar years, it could still produce officers who could think, analyze trends, and make viable suggestions regarding organization and tactics.

IV

As the Second World War edged closer, the Militia intensified its training and tried to make it as realistic as possible despite persisting limitations. The government aided this program with increased funds, which allowed more men to train and over longer periods. The realism of this training can be questioned, particularly rifles with flags and plywood tanks passing for modern weapons. Nevertheless, there are numerous instances of NPAM officers striving under the difficult circumstances to enhance the training process.

The Permanent Force could have used more officers, soldiers, and collective training. The regulars were placed in an almost impossible situation, expected to train the NPAM, conduct their own training, and provide officers for the General Staff and military districts. There were simply too few regulars to accomplish all those duties. This glaring problem registered most obvious during the

1938 collective training at Camp Borden, which was as much an indictment of Ottawa’s feeble support of the Militia as it was of the Permanent Force. It was all the regulars could do to stay in touch with modern developments and current theories, particularly when they could not practice those theories in collective training. It was not surprising that when General Anderson replaced

General Ashton as CGS in late November 1938, he joked in a letter to another officer: “Things have changed so in the last few years that I find it very difficult to keep up to date in things military, so

I go about looking wise by keeping my mouth shut!”51 In some cases, like Burns and Simonds,

51Granatstein, Generals, 33. 321 officers could not only demonstrate that knowledge but critically analyze it. This marked them for greater responsibilities and higher command during the Second World War.

One could not expect the effects of nearly twenty years of neglect could be repaired in the few short weeks that the NPAM spent in actual training during this four-year period. The citizen soldiers trained in their spare time; they gave up their holidays and evenings to spend time at camp or the armory. They could not train more intensively without becoming full-time soldiers. Relying on a part-time militia rather than regulars was the downfall of Canada’s defense system in the preparations for war before the Second World War, but it was the only system possible given historical, political and economic constraints. That was one reason why the Militia wanted to concentrate on the NPAM developing leadership skills in the late 1930s.

There is the question of whether or not the NPAM obtained the best value from camp training. If the camps were used to teach basic military principles and subjects, rather than building on them to tackle advanced topics, did they improve national defense? There were those in the

NPAM who advocated larger camps and thorough preparation before units got to camp,52 something practiced in several units. Three summers of large-scale camps was the most important factor in increasing the NPAM’s efficiency right before the war. For many officers and NCOs, these camps were their first opportunity to see large formations of men on maneuvers and practice leadership with formations and units that approximated wartime levels.53 One problem, however, was that each district and each unit had its own practices regarding training, a remnant of the colonial militia days.

52Major A. A. Bell, “N.P.A.M. Training,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 16 (October 1938): 83-84. Major Bell advocated collecting most units at Camp Borden for large-scale training unlike anything seen in Canada since Valcartier in 1914.

53“National Defence, 1935-1939,” n.d., 230569, NAC. 322

National Defense Headquarters could only publish its training policy guidelines and hope that the

NPAM would follow them as best it could, each unit according to its funding, dedication, and officers’ ability. In this sense, the NPAM resembled that “heterogeneous mass of gas buggies” that appeared at Sarcee in 1936. NPAM units may have looked similar on the surface, but each was unique in its level of enthusiasm and dedication for this part-time hobby or profession and how it conducted its training. Again, it was not an ideal system, but not one that the military’s members could change without guidance and support, not to mention money, from the politicians. Even as war clouds gathered over Europe and Asia, that support was not forthcoming for the Militia when the last thing most politicians wanted was to send Canada’s youth back to a slaughter reminiscent of Flanders. 323

CHAPTER TWELVE:

CONCLUSION:

EMERGING FROM THE LETHARGY OF PREWAR EXISTENCE

Describing the interwar period as “difficult” for the Militia does not go far enough. The

Militia was required to make do without the essentials of a military organization. It lacked funding for training, modern weapons, equipment, and vehicles, and even the numbers necessary to train a force that could meet Canada’s defense needs. The Militia’s members, for all their efforts, could do little to fix the organization. They often had to spend their own money, at the very least funding their pay back to their unit, to ensure their unit’s survival. They assumed, General Pope wrote,

“responsibilities that properly appertain to the Government.”1 Ottawa essentially passed on the

NPAM’s basic funding to the part-time soldiers. Without the sacrifice of many officers and men, it is questionable whether the NPAM would have survived the interwar period. Though a lack of interest in military service undoubtedly played a part, many NPAM units did not last. What makes this more shocking was that these were not new trends; they represented the Militia’s usual plight since its beginning.

The Active Militia was founded in a time of crisis and, for the most part, it needed crises to receive anything resembling adequate resources. Canadian politicians rarely believed there was any threat to Canada. This lassitude on defense resulted from Canada’s unique situation. After the

Fenians, there was little chance that Canada would be, or even could be, invaded by a belligerent power. The Royal Navy prevented most threats to Canada and the United States was non-belligerent.

1Pope, Soldiers and Politicians, 64. 324

Re-assured by the Militia Myth, Canadians adopted a culture where the military did not need to be supported financially.

Once Britain removed the majority of its troops, the Militia struggled to develop its own corps of regulars to train its larger component of part-time soldiers and provide a ready force to aid the government. Patronage and party politics ruled the Militia during the nineteenth century, but the

Militia moved slowly toward becoming more professional and less of a British auxiliary. The biggest jump came in the twentieth century after the South African War. Unfortunately, Sir Sam Hughes,

Militia minister from 1911 to 1916, did much to harm the Permanent Force as part of his bias against regulars and his belief in the supremacy of the citizen soldier. During the Great War, the Canadian

Corps rejected Hughes’ attempts to stifle its professionalism, shedding the idea that patronage and amateurism were virtues. Fortunately, the shift toward professionalism would continue after the war.

While some politicians would cling to the Militia Myth, particularly as Canada’s economy worsened, the Militia had cast it aside for the historical anachronism that it was. Nevertheless, the NPAM – aided, instructed, and commanded by the Permanent Force – still ranked as Canada’s first line of defense.

The Canadian General Staff could accomplish little in the interwar period with governments that turned a blind eye and a deaf ear to the Militia’s needs and its state. Nearly all of Parliament and the public saw little use for a military after “the war to end all wars.” Funding for Canada’s military dropped precipitously, even more than other countries. No one in any Canadian government in the

1920s could satisfactorily answer the question, “defense against whom.” Even in the 1930s it was impolitic to publicly single out the aggressive powers of Germany and Japan. 325

After the Liberals were reelected in 1935, the military slowly grew more important. The reasons for this were twofold. First, King finally saw the military had a purpose, protecting and enhancing Canada’s sovereignty, which was also his goal. Second, King recognized that growing global tensions required that the Canadian military begin rearmament if Canada was to be defended.

King’s government launched a limited rearmament program and provided an increase to the military’s budget, something nearly unprecedented in Canada’s peacetime history. King’s government did what it felt it could easily justify to Parliament and the public, but this was unfortunately not much .2 King was paralyzed between his belief that something needed to be done to protect Canada and his fear for Canada’s political unity. King worried that another expeditionary force could trigger conscription and possible political dissension at home. He consequently rejected the Militia’s rearmament with “offensive weapons.” It was as if King believed that denying the

Militia these weapons would subsequently prevent his generals from planning for an overseas role.

One of the results of Ottawa’s disdain and neglect of the Militia was that it forced the General

Staff to become political. The staff, particularly the CGS, spent an inordinate amount of time trying to convince the government of the Militia’s necessity, usefulness, and needs. “Bureaucratic politicking” in Ottawa, as historian J. L. Granatstein called it, hindered the Permanent Force’s ability to master its trade and do its duty.3 The staff had to tread carefully lest it upset a careful political balance that did not see a specific need for the Militia but also saw no benefit in wiping it out.

General Ashton was probably the most apolitical CGS, but his staff inundated the government with

2Bothwell et. al., Canada 1900-1945, 337; Stacey, Military Problems of Canada, 143.

3Granatstein, Generals, 259. 326 memoranda on international events and how they affected Canada and the Militia.4 Many of these stressed the Militia’s role in securing Canada’s sovereignty and independence, a clear attempt to wrest better funding from the Liberals.

Getting the government to actually define a military policy was the General Staff’s main political effort in these years. The Laurier government defined the last military policy in 1905; waiting until 1937 to define the next one was a disgraceful indictment of Canada’s whole approach to defense, even more than deficient per capita spending. What is particularly troubling about the

32-year wait is how much the world had changed in that time. Besides a world war and Depression,

Canada had added two new services in the RCN and RCAF. A military policy following the Great

War would have committed the government to a certain level of support and provided clear objectives for each service. Even with little financial support in the postwar years, this would have prevented the fierce internecine competition between the Militia and RCN. It also, under the auspices of the Otter Committee, could have prevented the Militia from creating a swollen table of organization that became purposeless within a few years of its creation. The government, whether

Conservative or Liberal, failed to provide the committee with the guidance it deserved. Both parties wanted to avoid being associated with the increasingly unpopular military. Instead, the Militia needed to be reorganized a second time, in 1936, to reduce an unrealistic structure to seven divisions and to adopt such modern units as tank battalions and armored-car regiments.

In reality, the Militia was not a front-line force but a second-line one. Since the late nineteenth century, the Militia was intended to provide a cadre to which volunteers could be added on the outbreak of a war. Just before the outbreak of the Second World War, the American military

4Dickson, Thoroughly Canadian General, 100. 327 rated the Permanent Force as “very efficient” and the NPAM as the best trained of British Dominion militias, but conceded that its tiny numbers would limit its combat value.5 While the American assessment was fairly accurate, there were some in the Militia who recognized their organization’s problems. As one author, known as “A. B. C.,” asserted in a 1939 CDQ article:

A second-line force is one which is only partially organized, equipped and trained in peace-time, and which is therefore not able to take the field until some time after the outbreak of war. From this definition, it is clear that no volunteer, part-time militia can be other than second-line; pace after-dinner speakers who assure the N.P.A.M. that it is Canada’s first line of defence. Of course, the Permanent Active Militia is not a first-line force either, but merely the Canadian Militia’s full-time component or cadre, whose function is to guide administration and training.6

Canada never had forces that could take the field immediately in a military crisis. When a war broke out, whether in the nineteenth or twentieth centuries, Canada’s military needed time to assemble its forces, train them, supply them with arms, clothing and equipment, and then dispatch them into danger. The training and supply phases were often accomplished in theater.

By 1939, the Militia had a core of officers, NCOs and specialists who knew their individual training to a good, if not excellent, degree, but lacked experience with formations larger than skeleton battalions and brigades. The Permanent Force attempted to provide the NPAM with effective and comprehensive training, primarily at summer camps. Elementary work, parade-square formations or lectures, were left for local headquarters training. If there was more money, the General Staff could have arranged large-scale comprehensive exercises, gathering most of the battalions, regiments, and batteries in a military district or districts for extended periods. Such invaluable experience, backed up by honest evaluations, might have helped the Militia shake out the weaker

5Granatstein, Canada’s War, 8.

6A. B. C., “How to Train the Militia,” Canadian Defence Quarterly 16 (January 1939): 148-49. 328 elements of the officer corps. Instead this would have to wait until years after the outbreak of the

Second World War.

Most members of the Militia worked hard during the interwar period. There was always something more to learn, another course to take, or an exam for which to prepare. Permanent Force officers and soldiers were unquestionably overworked. A staff officer had a plethora of duties, many above and beyond his normal tasks. For example, when Colonel Crerar was GSO1 to the Director of Military Operations and Intelligence, his primary job was to prepare mobilization plans and draft memoranda on international developments or Canada’s strategic positions. His additional responsibilities included secretary to the Joint Staff Committee, sitting on the Interdepartmental

Censorship Committee to draft regulations on wartime censorship, acting as a liaison between

National Defense and External Affairs, and assessing information received from British military attaches around the world. For his own intellectual benefit, Crerar tried to keep abreast of the latest developments in technology and British operational theory. He used this knowledge to pen articles and reviews for the CDQ, usually advocating mechanization. He also refereed the journal’s annual essay competition. A Permanent Force regimental officer’s myriad obligations included his individual training; section, platoon and company drill; spring small arms training; summer encampments or courses; guard duty; ; running Royal or provisional schools in the winter months; and studying for promotion or Staff College exams. When one of the Permanent

Force’s instructional cadre attended to the NPAM, it was often at a militia armory and at night. This could mean a lot of travel for that officer or soldier. For example, a member of the Royal Canadian 329

Regiment in Halifax might have to assist NPAM units throughout Nova Scotia, New Brunswick and

Prince Edward Island.7

In order to be an efficient member of the NPAM, one sacrificed time and money for a duty, an organization, or friendships that they deemed worthy. Only the tireless and selfless efforts of the men in the NPAM regiments ensured these units survived a hostile political and public climate.

Many of these same officers became amateur advertising executives, trying to promote their respective units and the Militia as a whole to increase recruitment or win support for additional defense spending.8 Pooled training pay was the fundamental symbol of the NPAM’s dedication and esprit de corps during the interwar years. It meant forfeiting self-interest to the greater good of one’s regiment, the Militia, and Canada’s defense. With the average Canadian only receiving two weeks of holiday during the summer, NPAM members often used that time to attend camp. An officer might also have to attend courses or lectures for promotion or to receive the Militia Staff Course credit, further sacrificing precious time from their work and families. In the same way, NCOs or specialists had extra courses to attend. NPAM officers reached deep into their own pockets during the interwar period, designed interesting training scenarios, or fostered a sense of family in their respective regiments.

The problem with relying on the dedication of NPAM personnel is that this invaluable commodity varied from unit to unit. If the officers and NCOs in one regiment took their training and

7Bercuson, Patricias, 139, 146; Burns, General Mud, 85; Dickson, Thoroughly Canadian General, 90, 94, 95; Elliot, Scarlet to Green, 66.

8The CDA’s historian, Major W. Alexander Morrison, explains the dichotomy of the NPAM’s position: “They regarded themselves as unselfish men, yet the paradox was that they wanted their unselfishness to be fully and publicly recognized by the community-at-large.” They wanted that recognition not to wrap themselves in glory, but to get better funding and to make the country aware, particularly in the mid- and late 1930s, of the growing global tensions and the fact that Canada could not escape them. Morrison, Voice of Defence, 80. 330 education seriously, their enthusiasm often infected the other ranks. If, however, the officers looked on their regiment as more of a social club or money-making opportunity, then training was often lackluster. An example of this was provided by Major General Bert Hoffmeister, one of Canada’s best combat generals in the Second World War and a NPAM officer since 1927. Hoffmeister summed up his interwar training with the Seaforth Highlanders of Canada with these words: “I knew damn all about tactics.” Of his regiment’s slate of officers, only five had completed the Militia Staff

Course by the end of March 1940, and only one had attended the Company Commander’s Course.

Hoffmeister, once in England and a major, had no idea how to run his company or even to write an operation order.9 The regiment’s commander, Lieutenant Colonel J. B. Stevenson, must bear some responsibility for not encouraging his officers to take their prewar duties more seriously. Other militia officers, even those from the professional classes like the Seaforths intentionally recruited, regularly completed such courses.

Training was often progressive and innovative in this period. There were numerous small- scale experiments to incorporate modern elements. In the late 1930s the Militia tried to add combined arms elements whenever possible, particularly planes from the RCAF. While there is some doubt as to how effective this training could be with a paucity of modern weapons, artillery that rarely fired rounds, slow planes, no tanks, or few armored cars, it at least prepared Canadian officers from different combat branches to think about working together to succeed in battle. The absence of collective field training hindered the Canadian army’s professional development because training and doctrine could not be properly reinforced.10

9Delaney, Soldier’s General, 18, 22.

10English, Failure in High Command, 51. 331

One of the most important modern elements in the Militia was its tank battalions.11

Assigning tanks to the infantry in 1936 was a good move by the Militia. Emulating the tactics taught by Worthington at the CAFVS, the tank battalions, with their mock tanks, tried to cooperate with infantry battalions in exercises held at summer camps. This effect was mitigated, however, by the fact that Canada’s only tanks and armored fighting vehicles were concentrated at Camp Borden in

Ontario.

Canadian officers and soldiers were deeply interested in armored warfare. There were several suggestions to create tank battalions before 1936. NPAM units showed an immediate interest in tanks when the Militia finally formed the battalions. Permanent Force officers were also intrigued by the possibilities tanks offered, most of them influenced by J. F. C. Fuller. These progressive officers include Crerar, Stuart, Matthews, Pope, Burns, Sansom, Simonds, Worthington and many others, most of whom tried to pass those theories and teachings on to their colleagues and charges.

By 1939, the use of tanks and armored cars in modern warfare was accepted enough by the General

Staff that it conceded that it would not mobilize the horsed cavalry part of the Mobile Force, not foreseeing a role for it in the defense of Canada or in the European theater. The horse’s service to

Canada’s Militia was finished.12

One of the key vehicles that passed on this knowledge of Fuller was the CDQ. The journal kept the Militia intellectually sharp through the interwar years, partially by preaching the possibilities of mechanization and other modern military trends. But, like much of what happened in the interwar

11It is interesting to note that, briefly, the Militia had the same amount of tank battalions as the British Army. The February 1937 White Paper on Defense increased Britain’s battalions from six to eight. B. H. Liddell Hart, The Tanks: The History of the and its predecessors Heavy Branch Machine-Gun Corps, Tank Corps, and Royal Tank Corps, 1914-1945, vol. 1, 1914-1945 (London: Cassell, 1959), 383.

12General Staff, “Permanent Force Representation in the Mobile Force,” February 20, 1939, NAC. 332 years, it was up to the individual to make the most of the opportunity. An officer or soldier had to make the effort to learn. Many of the Canadian Army’s most successful wartime officers, both combatant and staff, exploited the pages of the CDQ in the interwar year to disseminate the above topics. Stuart is perhaps the best example of an intellectual officer who used the CDQ to further his own knowledge while trying to do the same for the Militia. Stuart’s wartime jobs include Vice Chief of the General Staff (VCGS), CGS, and Chief of Staff, Canadian Military Headquarters, London.

In many ways, he was Canada’s General George C. Marshall, designing the army’s growth and supporting its efforts.

Canada’s experience in the interwar years was not unique to it. Both the United States and

Britain’s experiences had their echoes in Canada. After the First World War, the US Army made the same mistake of maintaining a bloated organization – at nine divisions. Like in Canada, this decision made training and maintaining a combat-ready force difficult. The lack of funds for both organizations forced them to focus on developing competent officers. The army also had to rely on

First World War-era weapons and equipment. By the 1930s, the list of its missing modern weapons and kit, including machine guns, anti-aircraft guns, and gas masks, mirrored the Militia’s. The

American approach to mechanization was a struggle for material and philosophical existence. This compares poorly to Canada. When World War II began, the US Army had no tank force and no armored doctrine. As the war approached, President Roosevelt favored the US Navy and the Army

Air Corps. He had little interest in the US Army. As the war approached, Roosevelt refused the 333 army’s requests to enlist more men, instead using the money to purchase more planes. Even after the fall of Poland, Roosevelt only authorized a 17,000-man expansion to the army.13

Canada’s Militia in the interwar years reflected the British Army to a certain extent, particularly when it came to the government’s defense priorities. The Army stagnated as Whitehall starved it of funds and adopted a strategic policy that limited it to policing the empire. Its strength depended primarily on imperial commitments. In early 1938, there were 64 home battalions compared to 74 deployed overseas. After the Ten Year Rule was rescinded in 1932, there was little change for the Army’s spending until 1935, and even that financial boost paled to the one received by its sister services. The Army’s modernization program was then sidetracked in 1937 by Neville

Chamberlain’s government and its “limited liability” policy. The policy meant Britain would play a restricted role on the continent, focusing on using its navy and air force to achieve its strategic objectives. The British Army’s unpopularity with voters and politicians meant that it could do little against “limited liability.” The army failed to conduct large-scale exercises in the 1930s, which prevented it from identifying its deficiencies in doctrine, training, tactics, organization and equipment.

British armored doctrine devolved in this period into two streams of thought, represented by two classes of tanks. The 1935 Field Service Regulations split tanks into infantry tanks and cruiser tanks, separating the tank’s two main attributes of armor and speed into separate classes of tank. The

Spanish Civil War seemed to confirm this decision, as tanks were seemingly eclipsed by antitank

13Calvin L. Christman, “Franklin D. Roosevelt and the Craft of Strategic Assessment,” Calculations: Net Assessment and the Coming of World War II, ed. Williamson Murray and Allan R. Millett (New York: Free Press, 1992), 220, 244; Jarymowycz, Tank Tactics, 31, 77; Johnson, “Frontier Constabulary,” 176-77, 182-83; Ronald Spector, “The Military Effectiveness of the US Armed Forces, 1919-1939,” in Military Effectiveness, 2:72, 82, 85. 334 guns. The British military authorities accepted this split as there was no suitable medium tank design. Due to “limited liability,” there was little development of cavalry, medium, or heavy infantry tanks in 1937 and 1938. Better types were being developed by the last year, but the Army possessed few modern tanks. There was little capacity to produce tanks in Britain; the Royal Ordnance

Factories were busy with other orders and no private manufacturer could handle the work. The inferior production base conspired with a lack of money and military conservatism to prevent the

British Army from creating large tank forces.14

Was Canada ready for the Second World War? When Canada’s Militia went on alert at the end of

August 1939, it was a time of anticipation but also consternation. Once more generous funding began in 1936, the Militia had almost twenty years of neglect to overcome – and less than four years to get ready for war. That was an impossible task for any military organization. Due to its doctrine and its equipment situation, the Militia in 1939 was little better than a small First World War army, poorly equipped and certainly inferior to the well-funded and battle-hardened Canadian Corps of late

1918. Historians have argued that Canada was in better shape than it had been for any previous conflict, as it did not need to cobble together battalions and formations, improvising all the way as it had in the First World War.15 This is certainly true. The Militia was the nucleus around which the

14Bond, British Military Policy, 161, 187-88, 243, 338; Bidwell and Graham, Fire-Power, 167-68; Robert M. Citino, Quest for Decisive Victory: From Stalemate to Blitzkrieg in Europe, 1899-1940 (Lawrence: University of Kansas Press, 2002), 192-93; English, Failure in High Command, 14; David French, Raising Churchill’s Army: The British Army and the War against Germany 1919-1945 (New York: Oxford, 2000), 18-19, 22, 34; J. P. Harris, Men, Ideas and Tanks: British Military Thought and Armoured Forces, 1903-1939 (New York: Manchester University Press, 1995), 278, 302-3; Hart, Clash of Arms, 23, 26; Higham, Armed Forces in Peacetime, 98; Paul Kennedy, “British ‘Net Assessment; and the Coming of the Second World War,” Calculations: Net Assessment and the Coming of World War II, ed. Williamson Murray and Alan R. Millett (New York: Free Press, 1992), 30, 31, 46; Larson, Theory of Armored Warfare, 15, 33-34, 171.

15Stacey, Arms, Men, and Governments, 6. 335

Canadian Active Service Force (this war’s equivalent of the Canadian Expeditionary Force) formed.

Initially, using Defense Scheme No. 3, the CASF mobilized two divisions, as well as ancillary troops.

The General Staff wanted a third division, but King refused citing expense. Rooting the CASF in existing Militia units allowed a smoother mobilization than that for the First World War. It also demonstrated that the government now listened to its military advisors, rather than assuming that it knew better. The General Staff’s high level of training during the interwar years contributed to the ease of mobilization.16

As before in Canadian history, in material terms the Militia was not ready for the war. There was little in the way of modern weapons and vehicles available to the Canadian Militia. Upon mobilization, some regiments only had First World War-era rifles and machine guns. In all of

Canada, there were a mere 29 Bren guns, 23 antitank rifles, and four antitank guns. Most of the vehicles in Canada’s service were not suitable for wartime use. The mobilized troops suffered from severe shortages of basic clothing and equipment.17 The blame for the failure of Canada’s industry to meet Canada’s armament needs can be laid at King’s feet. He did not provide the leadership needed for real efforts to be made before the war because he was too concerned in the late 1930s about broadcasting the impression that his government had made secret “commitments.” King only decided to work with Canadian industry in June 1939, which was already too late.

The real test for the effectiveness of the interwar Militia’s officer development and training would have been if Canadian troops were committed to battle in early or mid-1940. Three times the

16Dickson, Thoroughly Canadian General, 119; Granatstain, Canada’s Army, 177; Granatstein, Canada’s War, 10; Stacey, Canadian Army, 4.

17Graham, Citizen and Soldier, 109; Stacey, Canadian Army, 3-4; Stacey, Six Years of War, 20. 336

1st Canadian Infantry Division was readied to go into action in 1940, for Norway, , and then

Brittany. Only in the last case did troops actually reach the continent, but their stay was short-lived.

The only real benefit of these non-adventures was the dozen light anti-aircraft guns the Canadians

“acquired” in France. The British command chose the 1st Canadian Infantry Division for these missions because it was deemed the most advanced, in terms of training and equipment, of the

8 divisions then in Britain. 1

The reality is that there was a four-year gap before Canada entered sustained combat operations. Large numbers of Canadians would finally participate in the Sicilian and Italian campaigns in 1943 and then the landings on D-Day. While Canadian troops fought at and participated in the raid on in 1942, both operations were disasters and little could be learned from them to help Canadian troops in other theaters. The closest test of the interwar Militia was the action in Hong Kong. The two battalions of “C” Force that Ottawa sent to Hong Kong needed more training and better equipment. Both had spent their war years on garrison duty. They were sent into a situation that imperial authorities knew was hopeless. Nevertheless, Canadians fought well against the Japanese, according to the accounts of their enemy. In the end, the entire force was killed or captured and lessons learned from its operations waited till the war’s end.19

18Stacey, Canadian Army, 8-16.

19At Dieppe, whole units were virtually wiped out, limiting the ability of the surviving officers and men to draw lessons from the raid. Some of the tactical lessons, however, applied not to the troops themselves but the support that an assault required, both on the beach and before the landings occurred. Tactical surprise, as the Allies had at Dieppe, was not enough to overcome a defended coastline. Brereton Greenhous, “C” Force to Hong Kong: A Canadian Catastrophe, 1941-1945 (Toronto: Dundurn Press, 1997), 11, 21-23, 33, 59, 109; Robin Neillands, The : The Story of the Disastrous 1942 Expedition (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2005), 3-4, 265- 68, 271-72; Stacey, Six Years of War, 397-404. 337

One of the reasons Canadian troops participated in the Dieppe Raid is that they, and the public back home, were impatient for action against Germany. General McNaughton, who led

Canada’s overseas forces until late 1943, did not want them spread out across multiple theaters but fight as a “national entity.” He desired Canada’s forces to be a dagger pointed at the heart of

Germany, as he famously commented. By the winter of 1941-42, the troops were tired of inaction.

Crerar and Stuart, among others, wanted Canadian troops to be in action for both political and operational reasons. The government felt Canada’s place in the postwar world was in jeopardy. The officers were concerned about the lack of combat experience in I Canadian Corps and the potentially harmful impact of prolonged inactivity. As a result, Crerar lobbied the British command in early

1942 to allow Canadian troops to participate in the raids conducted by Combined Operations

Headquarters. After Dieppe, there were discussions over Canadian units being included in the invasion of . While McNaughton relented on Sicily, he hoped that 1st Canadian Infantry

Division and 1st Canadian Armored Brigade would be returned afterwards to disseminate their knowledge and experience throughout the First Canadian Army. By the end of 1943, however,

Crerar had successfully lobbied for I Canadian Corps (with 5th Canadian Armored Division) to take command of those formations in Italy. McNaughton’s retirement, on December 26, 1943, followed the dispersion of Canada’s military effort. Crerar replaced him.20 Canadian troops had not been withheld from action for any reason other than McNaughton’s desire to have them play a similar role as the Canadian Corps had in the Great War.

20Dickson, Thoroughly Canadian General, 198, 215; Stacey, Canadian Army, 40, 45-47, 53, 92-93; Mark Zuehlke, : Canada’s D-Day Victory, June 6, 1944 (Vancouver: Douglas & McIntyre, 2004), 26. Crerar had tried to bring I Canadian Corps back from Italy as early as . He raised again after the Normandy campaign. He wanted reunification for nationalism and to enhance the effectiveness of the Canadian contribution. It joined on March 15, 1945. Dickson, Thoroughly Canadian General, 403, 406. 338

The Canadian Army worked hard between 1940 and 1944 to improve its battle prowess.

When the 1st Division arrived in England in December 1939, its leaders estimated it needed another four months of training to expand upon its members’ elementary training. Severe weather hampered the division’s training, as did a shortage of modern weapons. The Canadian forces were still short of modern weapons in early 1941, except for Inglis-made Bren guns. Canada borrowed British and

American teaching methods, even though neither system had been tested in battle at that point.

Eventually, this meant specialized training became part of an expanded training syllabus. The CASF constantly reviewed training processes, trying to incorporate the latest equipment, operational doctrines, and battle lessons, in order to increase the regime’s realism and effectiveness. This practice continued into the active theaters of Italy and Normandy as a bottoms-up lessons learned process.21 Someone could argue that the training the Canadian Army underwent in England from

1939 to 1943 meant that the Militia’s interwar experience was irrelevant. Certainly, this might have been the case.

The Canadian Army that went to war in 1943 and 1944 may have contained the best trained troops the Dominion ever produced, but their performance in battle showed that they still had something to learn.22 Very few modern military organizations do not go through a similar process of blooding, where the poor officers, doctrines and practices are weeded out in favor of more effective ones. As Stacey wrote: “No peacetime studies can compare with battle experience as a school for either leadership or staff work.”23

21Dickson, Thoroughly Canadian General, 159, 160, 216-17, 233, 235; Stacey, Canadian Army, 7, 8, 31, 32, 88; Zuehlke, Juno Beach, 346-47.

22Stacey, Canadian Army, 310.

23Stacey, Six Years of War, 415. 339

Like the Canadians, most American divisions lacked combat-tested leadership, had not identified incompetent officers, and found training difficult in Britain due to the lack of space. In

Normandy, American divisions struggled to adapt their tactics to fit an unexpected situation for which they had not trained. It took time and experience for the inexperienced divisions to fight as well as such veteran formations as the 1st or 9 th Divisions. Experience helped weed out the weak and incompetent leaders and showed the soldiers better ways to fight. Once American divisions

“overcame the initial shock of combat,” as Peter Mansoor called it, they simply learned and improved. The 90th Division went from being almost broken up after its poor introduction to

Normandy’s battlefields to being described by many senior American officers as one of the best divisions in the entire European Theater of Operations.24

Certainly the Canadian Corps of the First World War went through a similar process. When the 1st Canadian Division first fought in April 1915, it had several months training under its belt, both in Canada and in England. Another two years of nearly continuous combat transpired between the division’s debut and the Canadian Corps’ brilliant victory at Vimy Ridge, which initiated a string of

Canadian successes. Those two years represented a grueling experience for the four divisions of the

Canadian Corps, but they learned from their mistakes and developed a way of war that marked them as elite troops. Historian Mark Zuehlke called the 1st Canadian Infantry Division “an ill-trained and badly equipped volunteer civilian force leavened with a cluster of pre-war Permanent Force soldiers” upon its arrival in England in December 1939.25 Similarly, Russell Hart comments that “Canada had

24Peter R. Mansoor, The GI Offensive in Europe: The Triumph of American Infantry Divisions, 1941-1945 (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 1999), 14, 143, 146-48, 250, 266.

25Zuehlke, Juno Beach, 20. 340 to start virtually from scratch in September 1939 in raising, training, equipping, and deploying an overseas expeditionary force.”26 Zuehlke is closer to the mark with his contention, but it is important to note the influence of both the prewar NPAM and Permanent Force on the CASF.

Where that interwar experience made a difference was in the development of Canada’s officer corps. Many of the regimental officers who Stacey both lauds and attacks learned their craft as interwar members of the NPAM. Indeed, by May 1945, the NPAM provided three of the five division commanders in Major Generals Bruce Matthews, Bert Hoffmeister, and Holley Keefler.

Both Matthews and Hoffmeister first saw combat with the 1st Canadian Infantry Division in Sicily and Italy, while Keefler was blooded in Normandy. In addition, also in May 1945, three-quarters of all the brigade commanders and 90 percent of the regimental and unit commanding officers belong to the NPAM before the war. While Hoffmeister did not think much of his interwar training with the Seaforth Highlanders, Matthews – who served with the 7th Toronto Regiment and the 15th Field

Battery – believed he profited from his association and training with the Permanent Force. Matthews took many of the courses available to him, such as the Militia Staff Course, whereas Hoffmeister did not.27 The task of leading Canada’s soldiers fell to those who had kept the NPAM alive in the interwar years.

Nearly all of the officers and a considerable portion of the other ranks mobilized for the

CASF in 1939 came from the two branches of the Active Militia. Of the 58,337 men and women

26Hart, Clash of Arms, 166.

27Delaney, Soldier’s General, 18, 22; Granatstein, Generals, 180-82; Stacey, Six Years of War, 415. There is a dearth of details on Keefler. Besides Granatstein’s excellent work, The Generals, there is little information on many of Canada’s senior military leaders. Even The Generals does not examine many important leaders, nor does it go in depth enough on others. This is one of the great flaws in Canadian military history of the Second World War. Paul Dickson’s study of General Crerar took fifteen years to go from dissertation to publication. 341 that joined the CASF in September 1939, 4,986 came from the Permanent Force and 24,089 from the NPAM. These partially-trained officers, NCOs and soldiers provided what Stacey accurately calls an “invaluable nucleus.”28 Indeed, when the Militia’s officers were good, they were very good indeed. Stacey rated the average quality of prewar Permanent Force officers as “very high – exceptionally high,” something Granatstein agrees on.29 While less well-trained, the same could be said for NPAM officers, especially those who took their training and education seriously in the interwar years.

The quality of prewar Militia officers allowed the Canadian Army, unlike in the First World

War, to rely on its own officers for staff positions. This was accomplished by the Militia’s staff training through the British Staff Colleges, the Militia Staff Course and the Advanced Militia Staff

Course. Eventually, more officers would receive staff training in Britain to fill staff jobs as Canada’s commitment expanded. As new formations mobilized, the Canadian Army used experienced senior officers and staff who were already overseas. The one exception was the 2nd Canadian Infantry

Division, which drew heavily from the NPAM.30 This policy meant that the initial muster of officers, particularly from the Permanent Force, provided most of the senior leaders throughout the war. They would play an indispensable role in Canada’s overseas contribution throughout the Second World

War.

28Stacey, Canadian Army, 3-4; Stacey, Six Years of War, 34-35, 50.

29Stacey, Six Years of War, 51. Granatstein does not question why so many Canadian generals failed in the Second World War, or why Canada produced no Clausewitzes, but why so many succeeded. He contends that Canada’s generals had a “normal distribution pattern of successes and failures.” Granatstein, Generals, 261

30Stacey, Six Years of War, 133, 414. 342

At the outbreak of war, the Permanent Force had 455 officers, with as many as half of them unfit for active service due to infirmity, inefficiency, or disillusionment. The NPAM had only about

5,000 officers, and had the same problems as the Permanent Force. This meant that junior officers, particularly able ones, were often quickly promoted as the CASF expanded from two divisions to a

First Canadian Army of five divisions and two independent armored brigades. The NPAM provided the majority of commissioned officers and warrant officers to the CASF. Of the CASF’s 42,613 commissions to June 1946, 22,339 officers came from the pre-war Permanent Force or NPAM. This striking number speaks loudly about the supposed illness of the interwar training. These were not men commissioned because of joining the CASF in its first years either. The Canadian Army was a meritocracy, as seen with the number of NPAM officers who rose to high positions, like Keefler,

Matthews and Hoffmeister, or even regular officers like Simonds, Harry Foster, Chris Vokes, and

D. C. Spry. The other 20,274 officers were promoted from the ranks or came from the Royal

Military College. The Canadian Corps of the Great War and the British Army of the Second World

War also had a policy of promoting from the ranks.31

As the war lasted, Canada began to weed out its aged officers. Of 68 officers in Canada’s

Second World War army who held a major general rank or higher, 58 had seen service in the First

World War. Thirty-nine of the 68 emerged from the Permanent Force, a significant number given the size of the prewar officer corps. What is important to note is that Burns and Crerar were the sole

Great War veterans who led Canada’s troops in Italy and Normandy and only Crerar lasted. Indeed, when the 1st Canadian Infantry Division mobilized, most of its senior officers and NCOs had seen service in the First World War. By January 1944, after that division had been in action in Italy and

31Granatstein, Generals, 28-29, 30, 262; Stacey, Six Years of War, 50-51, 128-29, 131, 415. 343

Sicily for six months, they were almost gone. All the rest of senior commanders came from the postwar generation. Most of the senior officers who ended the war in command of Canada’s divisions and corps were young Permanent Force and NPAM lieutenants, captains, and majors in

1939. These were officers who, in the prewar years, were likely to be intellectually active – preparing for promotion, attending British schools, or taking the MSC. All of these officers joined the CASF in 1939 and steadily rose through posts to command divisions between 1943-1945. The

Canadian Army needed the older officers to lead while younger men were readied. There were no other options available to Canada in September 1939.32

It took time for the officer corps to undergo a thorough shake-up. British senior officers, such as General Bernard L. Montgomery, swept out many officers that they perceived as weak or inefficient. Much of this might be cultural arrogance rather than a real indictment of Canadian generalship. It should be noted, before too heavily criticizing the poor colonials, that Chief of the

Imperial General Staff Field Marshal Sir Alan Brooke felt that he did not have enough good British commanders. As time passed, the Canadian Army realized that modern war was a younger man’s game. At the request of McNaughton, the Canadians imposed age limits on their senior officers in

December 1941; the British declined to make such restrictions. The maximum age limits for a major general were 53 for his appointment and 57 before his retirement; for and colonels, the limits were 49 and 54, respectively; for lieutenant colonels, the limits were 45 and 51. There was some latitude in the restrictions, provided the incumbent was fit and there was no good replacement.

These limits were for field formations and units. Age limits for junior officers came later and were more liberally applied. There was a great shuffle in January and February 1942, partially in response

32Granatstein, Generals, 6-7, 30, 33, 52; Stacey, Six Years of War, 414. 344 to these age limits. In the I Canadian Corps, new commanders were found for nine infantry battalions, nine artillery regiments, one engineer battalion, and one divisional signals unit. Many of the senior officers who were replaced in these years were First World War veterans. They were often from the NPAM, not military thinkers, and had not kept up with the changes since 1919. Other reasons for the shuffle could be health considerations, poor performances in exercises, or promotion.33

Another area where the influence of the interwar years can be seen is the Canadian Army’s adoption of mechanized and armored forces. To fight the German threat, Canada ultimately fielded three infantry divisions, two armored divisions and two independent armored brigades. This made them, proportionately, the most mechanized army fighting in Europe.34

Currently, there is a historiographical debate about the effectiveness of tank-infantry combined arms operations in Normandy. Some Canadian authors point to the numerous instances of good cooperation between infantry and tank units, while others focus on several examples of poor coordination.35 What is key to these examples was the familiarity the armored and infantry units had with each other; the more familiarity, the better the cooperation. It would be after sustained combat

33Granatstein, Generals, 30-31, 258, 262; Stacey, Six Years of War, 417-18. The age limits kept Major General F. F. Worthington, the former head of the CAFVTC, from commanding the 4th Canadian Armored Division in battle. Granatstein, Generals, 265.

34The US Army had 71 infantry and airborne divisions compared to 16 armored ones. The Oxford Companion to World War II, ed. I. C. B. Dear (New York: Oxford University Press, 1995), p. 1193.

35Books that deal with this issue, briefly or more in depth, include: English, Failure in High Command; Hart, Clash of Arms; Jarymowycz, Tank Tactics; Reid, No Holding Back; Reginald H. Roy, 1944: The Canadians in Normandy (Toronto: Macmillan, 1984); Stacey, Victory Campaign; Tout, Bloody Battle for Tilly. 345 operations began before armor-infantry cooperation was given the same serious forethought and preparation that characterized the Canadian Corps’ operations in the First World War.36

The Canadians in Britain were not entirely independent in their training programs. Generally, they followed British practice and doctrine. As a result, most arms trained to fight their own separate battles. There were, however, limited attempts to increase all-arms cooperation. By the end of the

Sicilian campaign, there was good infantry-armor cooperation in Canadian units, particularly

Lieutenant Colonel E. L. Booth’s Three Rivers Regiment and Hoffmeister’s Seaforth Highlanders of Canada. In Italy, the former’s effective battlefield cooperation techniques were passed to the rest of the 1st Canadian Armored Brigade. By the time the brigade left Italy to join the First Canadian

Army in Northwest Europe, the British Eighth Army rated it the best armored brigade in the Italian theater.37 It is no coincidence that this brigade performed so well when the regiments comprising it were three of the original six NPAM tank battalions. Besides Booth’s regiment, there was also the

Ontario Regiment and the Calgary Regiment. From their beginnings, these regiments practiced armor-infantry cooperation.

In training for the Normandy campaign Montgomery rejected infantry-armor cooperation exercises because he expected to be beyond the bocage country fairly quickly. Doctrinally, the

Anglo-Canadian armored divisions trained for a breakout/exploitation role rather than an assault role.

When the Allies stalled before in early June, it threw their entire tactical approach into question. They were forced to adapt to a slow-moving, attritional style warfare for which they were

36Marteinson and McNorgon, R.C.A.C., 132.

37Ibid., 110, 154, 170, 178. Booth was one of the fortunate officers to be attached to a British armored regiment during the . Ibid., 144. 346 unprepared. Eventually, the Anglo-Canadian forces learned to foster closer armor-infantry cooperation and adapt to the conditions of the Normandy campaign. The independent armored and tank brigades, on the other hand, had trained to provide close support to the infantry. This resulted in better coordination between these brigades and the infantry. The problem with the independent brigades was that they were moved around between infantry formations. Just as a good understanding was reached between a brigade and the infantry, the former would be moved to support another formation.38

The belief that mechanized forces were the best option for Canada was made during the interwar years. Parliament, particularly Ian Mackenzie, favored mechanized forces for the fact that a small force could have an impact disproportionate to its size. The Militia, the General Staff, and the CDQ all consistently favored mechanization throughout the interwar period. NPAM tank battalions amply demonstrated great enthusiasm for mastering modern warfare during the first years of their training. They brought more men to camp than Ottawa’s limited training budgets allowed and they often constructed their own “tanks” – using whatever materials were available to create structures over a car or motorcycle. While far from satisfactory, these ersatz contraptions were the only stopgap available to the part-time soldiers as long as Ottawa remained skittish about anything resembling offensive armaments.

Once King ushered Mackenzie out of National Defense, and Norman Rogers in, there seemed little hope for the future of Canada’s armored forces. It did not help that CGS General Anderson was a weak figure. Anderson was unable, in the words of Crerar’s biographer Paul Dickson, “to emerge

38Buckley, British Armour, 13, 23, 87, 92, 96, 98, 102. 347 from the lethargy of [his] prewar existence.”39 War had little effect on the CAFVS, now the

Canadian Armored Fighting Vehicle Training Center (CAFVTC), as it had no students to train and little more funds with which to operate. The most modern part of Canada’s Militia was forced to make its own preparations, all because King connected offensive weapons like tanks with Canadian soldiers dying on European battlefields. Worthington secured more engines and parts from local manufacturers. The Armored Force Association provided the school with wireless equipment, three more RYPA machines, and power tools. Nevertheless, by December, the future of Canada’s armor looked bleak. Worthington learned that CAFVTC was to be shut down because the army did not expect to use tanks in this war. He disobeyed orders to concentrate on courses to teach infantry carrier drivers, still offering tactics and gunnery courses. He even taught unauthorized courses to the

Ontario Regiment (Tank).40

McNaughton, however, wanted a more balanced force that included tank battalions. Just as

Ottawa prepared to order the tank battalions to reconvert to infantry, the “” ended in

Europe. The German blitzkrieg through France showed just how useful tanks were to modern combat. Rogers died in a June 1940 airplane crash and was replaced by J. L. Ralston, the former minister. Ralston took up the cause of armored units, which coincided with the press and parliamentary opposition howling that Canada should field them. Soon, primarily under the tenure of CGS Crerar, the Canadian Army added two armored divisions and two independent armored brigades. Crerar’s successor and VCGS, Stuart, also played an important role. Before becoming

39Dickson, Thoroughly Canadian General, 139.

40Marteinson and McNorgon, R.C.A.C., 80, 82-83; Worthington, ‘Worthy’, 157. Worthington even used his contacts within the automotive industry to encourage its technical staff to begin designing a tank with greater firepower than was then available in light tanks. 348

CGS, Crerar had already decided that the army should be based on mechanized power. He knew armor formations were a way to have a less infantry-intense army, but one that still had hitting power.41 Once these pro-Fuller, pro-tank officers gained control of the army’s establishment, they worked to fulfill their vision for the proper organization of a modern army. These officers rose, both in the interwar Militia and the wartime Army, because of their intellectual abilities that were sharpened by their advocacy of mechanization and other progressive or modern topics.

The interwar Militia learned to make do with less, to get on with the job even when the situation was not ideal. This bred the qualities of improvisation, stubbornness, and endurance into the Canadian officer and soldier. Once committed to combat, the Canadian Army, like the Canadian

Corps in the Great War, displayed flexibility and creativity, adapting and innovating faster than its

British counterpart.42 While one could point to several examples in Italy or Normandy of how these qualities helped the Canadians complete their missions, perhaps the best example is how the Crerar- led First Canadian Army handled its post-Normandy campaign. Montgomery ordered Crerar to take the Channel ports along the French coast and into Holland. Montgomery held disdain for Crerar, not trusting him to be competent enough for any important tasks. Yet it is odd that he chose Crerar for one of the Allies’ most important strategic objectives. He did not give Crerar enough resources and forces to easily achieve the task set before him. For example, to clear the area, which

Germans considered their most important defensive commitment in the 21st Army Group area,

41Dickson, Thoroughly Canadian General, 137, 143, 145; Marteinson and McNorgon, R.C.A.C., 83-84; Stacey, Canadian Army, 28-29; Stacey, Six Years of War, 540. Major General H. D. G. Crerar became Vice Chief of the General Staff on July 6, 1940, and in just over two weeks became CGS. Stacey, Canadian Army, 316..

42Hart, Clash of Arms, 166. 349

Montgomery deprived Crerar of the 1st British Corps.43 Nevertheless, the Canadians struggled on as best they could, led by officers who were used to improvising, and won not only the Scheldt, opening Amsterdam, but nearly the whole coastline into Holland.

The interwar period is one of the least studied areas of Canadian military history. It is not hard to see why. It is difficult to take the Militia and its preparations for war seriously throughout these twenty years. The Militia organization was fundamentally flawed as it relied on part-time soldiers who were denied access to sustained training supervised by sufficient numbers of regular instructors.

The organization was further flawed because many regular instructors suffered from inadequate training themselves, primarily due to the breadth of their duties and their limited numbers. Canadian soldiers received uniforms and rifles, but they could count on getting little else from their government. Ottawa did not even care enough about its part-time soldiers to provide them with boots. Such neglect reduced the Militia to the mere shadow of a military organization. For much of the interwar period, the Militia, particularly the NPAM, seemed more like an older and better armed versions of Boy Scouts than soldiers. This underfunded, nearly broken organization tried to do the best with what it had. It attempted to keep a military heritage alive in Canada when that was the last thing many Canadians wanted. The Militia endured in the face of daunting odds. It relied on itself to endure, with both regular and citizen soldier officers shouldering the majority of that unfair burden. That the Militia rose, nearly phoenix-like, from these ashes to achieve great things

43Dickson, Thoroughly Canadian General, 338, 346, 348, 349. Montgomery disliked Crerar enough that when the latter was promoted to full general, he wanted it known the promotion was not due to good work. General , however, who served under Crerar, felt Crerar was underrated, largely because he was not in the Montgomery mold. Horrocks liked that Crerar had common sense and listened to his subordinates. Ibid., 359, 390. 350 in the Second World War is a testament to the abilities of its best and brightest – both Permanent

Force and NPAM – and to the wartime volunteer. 351

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