[1914 - 1918] Canada and the Great War (World War I)

It is 1914. For Canada, a dominion barely half a century old, still deeply tied to Great Britain by sentiment and law, the world is about to irrevocably change. When Britain declared war on Germany in August, Canada was automatically at war too. There was no debate in Parliament, no separate declaration. A wave of patriotic fervour swept the land. From bustling city streets, where newsboys shouted headlines of European conflict, to quiet prairie farmsteads, young men rushed to enlist, spurred by a sense of duty to King and Empire, and perhaps, a yearning for adventure in a war many believed would be "over by Christmas." Sir Robert Borden, the Prime Minister, pledged Canada's full support. The Minister of Militia, Sam Hughes, a man of immense energy and equally immense ego, hastily established a massive training camp at Valcartier, Quebec. Within weeks, over 30,000 volunteers – a mix of British-born immigrants eager to defend the motherland and Canadian-born men seeking to prove their nation's mettle – converged, a somewhat chaotic but enthusiastic force. Their initial equipment, including the Canadian-made Ross rifle, would soon prove problematic under the harsh conditions of European battlefields. The reality awaiting them in Europe was a brutal awakening. Romantic notions of cavalry charges and swift victories evaporated in the face of a new, horrific kind of warfare: trench warfare. Kilometre after kilometre of deep, muddy ditches stretched across Belgium and France, a nightmarish landscape of barbed wire, shell craters, and constant dread. The air hung thick with the stench of mud, unburied bodies, chloride of lime, and cordite. Rats, bloated from feasting on the dead, scurried in the darkness. This was the Western Front. It was here, in April 1915, near the Belgian town of Ypres, that Canadian soldiers faced their first major test – and a terrifying new weapon. The Germans unleashed chlorine gas, a greenish-yellow cloud that rolled across no-man’s-land, choking and blinding Allied troops. French and Algerian units, caught unprepared, broke and fled, leaving a gaping hole in the line. Into this breach were thrust the raw Canadian troops. Outnumbered, outgunned, and facing an invisible enemy that burned their lungs, they fought with desperate courage for days, often resorting to urinating on handkerchiefs to press against their faces as makeshift gas masks. They held the line, preventing a German breakthrough, but at a staggering cost: over 6,000 Canadian casualties in just 48 hours. Ypres was a baptism by fire, forging a grim reputation for Canadian resilience. For two more years, the slaughter continued with battles like the Somme, where the Newfoundland Regiment, then a separate British colony, was virtually annihilated at Beaumont-Hamel on July 1st, 1916, suffering over 700 casualties in about 30 minutes. But a pivotal moment for Canada was approaching. In April 1917, the Canadian Corps, now fighting together as a unified national formation for the first time under the meticulous planning of their British commander, Julian Byng, and with Canadian General Arthur Currie playing a crucial tactical role (he would soon take full command), was tasked with capturing Vimy Ridge. This heavily fortified German stronghold in France had defied previous British and French assaults, costing them over 150,000 casualties. The Canadians prepared obsessively. They built full-scale models of the German trench systems behind their lines, rehearsing the attack. Detailed maps were distributed down to the platoon level. Most importantly, they perfected the "creeping barrage," an artillery bombardment that moved forward just ahead of the advancing infantry, providing a curtain of fire and steel. On Easter Monday, April 9th, 1917, amidst driving snow and sleet, nearly 100,000 Canadian soldiers surged forward. Within four days, they had captured the Ridge. The victory was stunning, achieved where others had failed, and it came at a cost of nearly 10,600 casualties, with 3,598 killed. But Vimy became more than a military victory; it became a symbol. Many back home, and some historians since, saw it as the moment Canada truly stepped onto the world stage, a nation forged in the fires of Vimy. While Canadian soldiers fought and died overseas, the war transformed life back home. The initial patriotic unity began to fray under the immense strain. The Canadian economy, initially hit by a recession, boomed with war production. Factories churned out shells, ships, and airplanes. With over 620,000 Canadians enlisting from a population of just under 8 million, a significant labour shortage emerged. Women stepped into roles previously unimaginable, working in munitions factories – "munitionettes" in their practical overalls and headscarves – on farms, and as streetcar conductors. Over 3,000 Canadian women served overseas as nursing sisters, known as "Bluebirds" for their distinctive blue uniforms and white veils, often working dangerously close to the front lines. Their contributions significantly bolstered the arguments for women's suffrage, and by 1918, most Canadian women had won the right to vote in federal elections. But the war also brought deep divisions. The government, under Prime Minister Borden, enacted the War Measures Act in 1914, granting itself sweeping powers to censor news, control the economy, and intern over 8,500 "enemy aliens" – primarily immigrants from Germany and the Austro-Hungarian Empire. As casualties mounted and voluntary enlistment dwindled, especially in Quebec where enthusiasm for a distant "British" war was far less pronounced, Borden made the difficult decision in 1917 to introduce conscription, or compulsory military service. This ignited a fierce political crisis, pitting English Canada, largely supportive, against French Canada, which felt alienated and unfairly targeted. Riots erupted in Quebec City. The 1917 federal election, fought largely on this issue, was one of the most bitter in Canadian history. The war's technological horrors continued to evolve. Machine guns mowed down attacking infantry in waves; massive artillery bombardments, sometimes lasting for days, churned the earth into a lifeless moonscape. Tanks, though still primitive and unreliable, began to appear, hinting at a future of mechanized warfare. Aircraft, initially used for reconnaissance, soon engaged in deadly aerial duels, creating heroes like Canada’s Billy Bishop, credited with 72 victories. In 1918, after the German spring offensives nearly broke the Allied lines, the Canadian Corps, now widely regarded as one of the elite fighting formations on the Western Front under General Arthur Currie’s capable command, played a leading role in the "Hundred Days Offensive." This series of Allied victories from August to November finally broke the back of the German army. Canadian troops were instrumental at Amiens, Arras, and Cambrai, pushing relentlessly forward. When the Armistice was finally signed on November 11, 1918, the guns fell silent. The "Great War," the war to end all wars, was over. The cost for Canada was immense. From a small nation, over 61,000 men and women had been killed, and another 172,000 wounded, many maimed for life, their bodies and minds scarred by the horrors they had witnessed. The financial cost was staggering, over $1.6 billion by 1920 (a colossal sum then), saddling the country with debt. Every community, from the largest city to the smallest village, was touched by loss. Memorials, often simple cenotaphs listing the names of the fallen, would soon rise across the country, silent testaments to the sacrifice. The Great War left an indelible mark on Canada. The nation that emerged in 1918 was different from the one that had entered the conflict four years earlier. Its sacrifices had earned it a separate signature on the Treaty of Versailles and a seat in the newly formed League of Nations – small but significant steps towards full autonomy from Britain. The shared experience of the war, particularly the pride in the Canadian Corps' achievements, fostered a growing sense of national identity, distinct from its British roots, though the Vimy-as-birth-of-a-nation narrative remains debated by historians. The war also exposed deep internal fissures, particularly between French and English Canada, that would linger for decades. The returning soldiers, many disillusioned and struggling to reintegrate, faced a changed society. The memory of the Great War would shape Canadian foreign policy, its art, its literature, and its collective consciousness for generations, a somber reminder of the terrible price of conflict and the courage of those who endured it.