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July 1st has always been known in Canada as the day in which we celebrate the birth of our nation. Originally, it was known as Dominion Day, and later it was changed to Canada Day.

Not so in Newfoundland.

For the school children, and the population generally, in Newfoundland, July 1st has been not a day to celebrate, but one to mourn and to remember the sacrifices of the Great War of 1914 – 1918.

Any Newfoundlander will tell you, July 1st, 1916 was the Battle of Beaumont Hamel. Eight hundred and one of Newfoundland’s finest sons climbed out of their support trenches starting at 8:45 a.m. Only 68 answered the roll call the next day. In 30 minutes, the Battalion had all but been eliminated. Most of them never saw a German, never fired their rifles, and not one foot of ground was gained. This was the horror and the carnage of World War I at its very worst.

In previous entries, I have focused on some of Canada’s memorable Victoria Cross winners.  The Royal Newfoundland Regiment produced Canada’s youngest Victoria Cross winner.   

It was only two months after the horrific July 1st battle that Tommy Ricketts, 15, of Middle Arm, White Bay, enlisted for service with the Regiment.

In October 1918, during the Battle for Courtrai, the Royal Newfoundlanders were on the left of the advance, together with the Second Royal Scots Fusiliers. The objective was Steenbeek, and then on to St. Catherine Capelle to capture the railway line running north from Courtrai.

Attempts were made by various small parties, which resulted only in more casualties. Lieutenant Stanley Newman, of St. John’s, with a handful of his men, succeeded in reaching a small depression, but could get no closer to the German guns.

Something had to be done, and what transpired was undoubtedly the bravest act of anyone in the Newfoundland Regiment in the entire war, and it was carried out by the now 17 year-old Ricketts who, like many of his Newfoundland buddies, had lied about his age on enlistment.

He had already been wounded at Marcoing back in November of 1917, but had rejoined the Battalion in time for the fighting at Bailleul. His citation tells the story of his heroism in the battle of October 14, 1918.

“During the advance from Ledgehem the attack was temporarily held up by heavy hostile fire, and the platoon to which he belonged suffered severe casualties from the fire of a battery at point blank range.  Private Ricketts at once volunteered to go forward with his Section Commander and a Lewis gun to attempt to outflank the battery.  They advanced by short rushes while subject to severe fire from enemy machine guns.

When 300 yards away, their ammunition gave out.  The enemy, seeing an opportunity to get their field guns away, began to bring up their gun teams.  Private Ricketts at once realized the situation.  He doubled back 100 yards, procured some ammunition and dashed back to the Lewis gun, and by very accurate fire drove the enemy and their gun teams into a farm.  His platoon then advanced without casualties, and captured four field guns, four machine guns and eight prisoners.  A fifth field gun was subsequently intercepted by fire and captured.  By his presence of mind in anticipating the enemy intention and his utter disregard for personal safety, Private Ricketts secured the further supplies of ammunition which directly resulted in these important captures and undoubtedly saved many lives.”

At the investiture, King George introduced the youthful Ricketts to Princess Mary saying, “This is the youngest VC in my Army.”

Thomas Ricketts returned to St. John’s and trained as a pharmacist. A monument stands today on Water Street, which was the site of his drugstore. Private Ricketts’ family donated his Victoria Cross to the Canadian War Museum in 2003.

His story is told in The War Amps internationally award-winning documentary The Blue Puttees.

The night before the senseless murder of Major Hodge at the Château d’Audrieu, another officer, who was fairly familiar with the D-Day plan, had been subjected to frightening interrogation at the Abbaye d’Ardenne. He was Lieutenant Tom Windsor of the Sherbrooke Fusiliers and, incidentally, a man whom I had met several months before in training exercises in England.

Seven prisoners, including Tom Windsor, were taken to the Abbaye and locked in a storage shed. The inner walls of the 13th century Abbaye in Normandy have seen some macabre sights, but certainly none more sinister than that which took place there late in the evening of June 7th, 1944.

Tom Windsor would give his interrogators only his name, rank and number. The SS commander – General Kurt Meyer – was furious. Windsor realized that the Germans were going to shoot all of the Canadians. Meyer issued the orders for their execution.

In a final act of courage and leadership, the 31-year-old Montrealer shook hands with his young soldiers and entered a garden where a member of the merciless Hitler Youth Regiment shot him in the back of the head. The rest of the Canadians met the same fate.

Seven defenseless, unarmed Canadian prisoners of war were executed for obeying international law. The Geneva Convention states that a captured soldier must give only his name, rank and serial number. The German SS wanted much more from them and they paid the penalty of their lives.

It should be remembered that Lieutenant Windsor and Major Hodge were interrogated before we had an opportunity to build up our reinforcements. Had the SS learned of the meager troop dispositions, the situation could have been disastrous.  These two Canadian officers faced a brutal death rather than tell their German interrogators what they wanted to know.

Terry Copp, noted military historian, vividly describes the situation in A Canadian’s Guide to the Battlefields of Normandy:

“…If the Germans had broken through the Canadian position astride the Caen-Bayeux railway, the 12th SS could have launched a coordinated attack splitting the Anglo-Canadian bridgehead…”

The brutal German SS snuffed out the lives of Tom Windsor and another 133 young Canadians. They had fought bravely. They surrendered with honour. They were prisoners of war. They deserved to be treated as human beings under one of the oldest protocols of international law, the Geneva Convention. They died but their stories should not. Sometimes we tend to gloss over the tragedy of war in terms of human loss. I would like to close with part of a letter which Tommy Windsor wrote to his wife, to be opened “only in the event of my death.”

“Dear Roma,

As our time draws near to go into battle, I want to tell you, darling, how much you have meant to me and how happy and complete you have made my life. I have no regrets, darling, at going and I am at peace with the world, knowing that you will be here to carry on for me. I will always be waiting for you.”

No story of the D-Day landings would be complete without telling of the horrific events which unfolded just days after the beach landings.

Early in June of 1944, the 12th SS reconnaissance battalion established its headquarters in the grounds of the Château D’Audrieu in Normandy in France.

Major Fred Hodge, then commanding “A” Company of the Royal Winnipeg Rifles, was taken prisoner at Putot and was brought to these grounds for interrogation by the German SS. Major Hodge had wanted to be a soldier all of his life. In his teens, he joined the Cameron Cadets. He became a crack rifle shot. When the Royal Winnipeg Rifles mobilized, he was one of the first officers in uniform.

It is understandable then, that when the 1944 invasion of Europe took place, Major Hodge would be found holding a position in close contact with a German reconnaissance unit.

The battle of Normandy had just begun. Hitler and most of his German generals still thought the main Allied thrust would come at Calais. Then, a Canadian Major commanding an infantry company at a point of deep penetration became their prisoner. He could tell them what they wanted to know.

Major Fred Hodge became the first Canadian company commander in the hands of the SS. The Major and two of his soldiers were taken immediately to the SS advance headquarters.

About 2 p.m. on the afternoon of June 8, the three prisoners, Major Hodge, Corporal Ralph Fuller and Rifleman Fred Smith were brought in from the north.

They were taken to a point where the guards turned them and headed them in a different direction towards a very large sycamore tree. The 12th SS had a tent there as its headquarters. In that tent, Major Hodge was first interrogated. Major Bremer was the commanding officer of this reconnaissance unit. He was wounded and away at the time. His second in command was a Lieutenant Schenk and the British war crimes unit identified a third officer later as a Major Von Reitzenstein.

I will take you through, step by step, what actually happened. The M on the appended map stands for the place where members of the Château d’Audrieu staff could observe everything that was going on. And that becomes very important. In other words, they could not commit murders in this area because they would have been seen. Major Hodge and the other two prisoners were marched up the road. They went further along the road and into a very deep area known as “the park.” This is a tragic, sacred and emotional place for me and for members of the Canadian Army who fought in Normandy.

This is where Major Hodge, Corporal Fuller and Rifleman Smith were further interrogated. Evidence at a later Court of Inquiry, given by a Polish German SS conscript, and by two French girls who were witnesses, was that Fred Hodge gave the traditional order in accordance with the Geneva Convention. He turned to the other two soldiers and said “Rank, name and serial number.” The German SS sergeant shot him in the face, decapitating him. The other two were summarily dispatched by the German-held Schmeissers.

Here we have a tragic accident of fate. Rifleman Fred Smith initially belonged to the Queen’s Own of Toronto. He was transferred to the Winnipegs as a reinforcement and a day later, he was murdered.

Hodge Bay in Coutts Lake, Manitoba, was named after Major Fred Hodge in 1989.

The recent 9th anniversary of the unveiling of Canada’s Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, has brought to mind a soldier who lost his life in the First World War and has no known grave.

Our former Governor General, Adrienne Clarkson, in her eulogy for Canada’s Unknown Soldier, mentioned Major Talbot Papineau.  This is a story well-known to me for many years and one which all Canadians should know.  Papineau was the son of a prominent Montreal family.  His father was French-speaking; his mother was English-speaking.

Upon the outbreak of war, he joined the famous Princess Patricia’s Canadian Light Infantry.  He was instantly commissioned a lieutenant and received one of the first Military Crosses awarded to Canadians for his role as co-leader of the successful raid at Saint-Eloi in Belgium. 

After extensive battle experience, he was sent to the rear, but voluntarily rejoined his regiment, and was killed at Passchendaele.  The last words he uttered were to his dear friend when he said: “You know, Hughie, this is suicide.”

Talbot Papineau’s body was found, later buried and then became lost.  His name is inscribed on the walls of the Menin Gate with those who have no known grave.

Papineau was a lawyer and army officer, a gifted orator and writer, fluently bilingual and had a charismatic personality.  His short life symbolizes all the promise cut down by World War I. 

“Without doubt,” memorialized the Ottawa Citizen, “Papineau had been destined to fill a high place in public life.”