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Please find herewith a further entry in my ongoing series on the Victoria Cross.  This one comes from the files of Stu Christie, Merchant Navy Veteran from World War II and Curator of The War Amps Museum:

Edward St. John Daniel, VC, won the Victoria Cross three times and forfeited it in disgrace.

He joined the British Royal Navy as a Naval Cadet in January 1851, just before his 14th birthday.  He served on the Frigate Winchester at Pegu and Prome in the second Burma War in 1852.  The conditions under which they fought, plus untreated insect bites and lacerations, caused chronic ulcers that affected him most of his life.

As a Midshipman, he served under Capt. Peel, VC, on the ship HMS Diamond (Peel had also won the Victoria Cross three times: October 18, 1854; November 5, 1854, and June 18, 1855).

They went to the Crimea in 1853, and landed with the Naval Brigade.  The first act for which Daniel was awarded the VC was on October 18, 1854.  He volunteered to bring powder to the battery from a wagon which was under heavy fire, after a shot had disabled the horses.

The second time was at the Battle of Inkerman on November 5, 1854, as Aide-de-Camp to Capt. Peel, who also won the Victoria Cross again for outstanding bravery.

The third time was on June 18, 1855, for devotion to his leader, Capt. Peel, under murderous fire when they stormed the Redan (a rampart jutting out into enemy line).  While exposed to the heavy fire, Daniel bandaged his chief’s head and tied a tourniquet on his arm, saving Capt. Peel’s life.  Again, Daniel shared the honour of the Victoria Cross with his friend and commander.

In February 1857, Daniel went with Peel to commission HMS Shannon and landed with him in the Naval Brigade during the Indian Mutiny.  Again, Daniel distinguished himself.

When Capt. Peel died of smallpox in April 1858, it was all downhill for Daniel.  He began drinking more than ever and was always in trouble.  In 1860 on the HMS Wasp, being drunk and not turning out for the middle watch, he was court-martialled on board the HMS Impregnable.  He pleaded guilty.  He produced testimonials from past Captains and showed the court his Victoria Cross and other medals:

• The Indian General Service (with the Pegu Clasp);
• Crimea Medal (with Sebastopol and Inkerman Clasps);
• Turkish and Sardinial Crimea Medals;
• The Turkish Order of the Medjidie 5th Class;
• The Indian Mutiny Medal (with the relief of Lucknow and Lucknow Clasps).

The court was impressed, and taking into consideration his gallantry before the enemy, sentenced Daniel to dismissal from the HMS WASP.

He was appointed Lieutenant on the steam vessel Victor Emanual in the Mediterranean, January 1861.  On June 21, 1861, he was in trouble again and was marked run (DESERTER) on June 28, 1861.  On September 4, 1861, the Queen, who had awarded Daniel his Victoria Cross and had shaken his hand, issued a Royal Warrant and Daniel was the first man to have his name erased from the VC Roll.

In 1863, Daniel was living in Australia and was recruited by the New Zealand government to serve in an infantry battalion for the Maori Wars.  His drinking habits got him in trouble again, and he was confined to intensive labour from August 8 to August 15, 1863.  Daniel took part in several operations in South Taranaki, until the military were disbanded in 1867.

On November 26, 1867, he was sworn in as Constable No. 154 in No. 2 Division, New Zealand Armed Constabulary Field Force, Patea, South Taranaki.

Daniel had been ailing for some time and was sent to hospital May 16, 1868 and died May 20, 1868.  He was given a military funeral with full honours.  Daniel had been much respected by his comrades. He was buried in Grave No. 851, Block 27 in Hokitika Municipal Cemetery. In 1971, the grave was reported as overgrown and unmarked.  Daniel’s death certificate gave the cause as delirium tremens.

The story of the Royal Newfoundland Regiment has always been of tremendous interest to me, arising out of my long friendship with George Chalker, a war amputee from St. John’s, who fought and was twice wounded with this famous World War I military Force.

As a lad raised in the west during the Depression, I saw the financial recovery – particularly after World War II – in my native Manitoba.  I wondered why the same prosperity had not come to Newfoundland, bearing in mind the extensive resources of the island province.

The more I read about the terrible sacrifices of the Newfoundland Regiment in World War I, coupled with the lack of immigration to that province after the war, the more I began to realize that there was an important story to tell there.

I was able to tell the story in The War Amps documentary The Blue Puttees.

Their story is not well-known in the rest of Canada, but deserves to be.  The regiment suffered tremendous losses – first, in Gallipoli, and then in France.  In fact, in one action alone – which took something like 30 minutes – the battalion went into the line with nearly 800 Newfoundlanders, and only 69 answered the roll call the next day.  That was the infamous Battle of Beaumont-Hamel, on July 1, 1916.

This, however, is not the end of the story, and despite tragic losses, Newfoundland was able to provide sufficient reinforcements to keep the regiment in the field until the end of the war.  Hence, Newfoundland was able to engage in a number of other defensive and offensive battles of international renown, including Monchy-Le-Preux, Gueudecourt, and Cambrai.

In the film, we see probably the saddest consequence of the war:  though the gallantry awards won by members of the Newfoundland Regiment were the highest of any unit in the British Army, the losses in combat deaths were also the highest.  Newfoundland was the only regiment accorded the prefix “Royal” during World War I, and also had the distinction of having the youngest Victoria Cross winner in the British Army – 17 year-old Thomas Ricketts of Middle Arm, White Bay, Newfoundland.  However, losses in combat deaths were 20 percent, compared with less than 10 percent in regular Canadian units.

There is no doubt that World War I exacted an extremely heavy toll and – it might well be said – the very lifeblood of Newfoundland.  The young men who would have made Newfoundland a leading colony, and later, a province in Canada, did not have the opportunity, because their remains lay buried in France.

To this day, while the rest of Canada celebrates the birth of our nation on July 1st, in Newfoundland, the people gather instead to mourn and to remember the sacrifices of their finest on that fateful summer day over 90 years ago.  And they do it with the beautiful blue forget-me-not flower as their symbol, in place of the traditional poppy.

Today, June 21st, is National Aboriginal Day. 

In honour of Aboriginal soldiers who have served or continue to serve their country, the National Aboriginal Veterans Association is holding a Ceremony of Remembrance and Wreath Laying today at the National Aboriginal Veterans Monument in downtown Ottawa. 

It seems a suitable day to feature an excerpt from my memoir Excuse Us! Herr Schicklgruber, which concerns the invaluable contribution of the Métis to my regiment in World War II:

The Métis

The Royal Winnipeg Rifles (RWR) could boast of 102 Métis among its ranks.  These men were the direct descendants of the soldiers who fought under Gabriel Dumont, the ‘battle adjutant’ of the Métis in the North West Rebellion.  Dumont was the ‘number two’ man to Louis Riel.

The contribution of the Métis to the fighting troops of the RWR is described in the Regiment’s history and elsewhere.  How good were they?  It is said, with some truth, that they could bring down an enemy or a buffalo while riding full tilt.  Their tactics had been bred into them.

They were superb fighting men.  Their inborn skills produced in them a superb sense of fieldcraft.  Also, the Métis were skilled at the tactics of the battlefront.  For centuries they had been taught how to fight.  Their leaders, with their coloured feather lances, could produce a sizeable force of fighting men, emerging seemingly from behind bushes or rising out of mist-covered fields.  It is well known, from reading the history of the German Army, that a sudden appearance of Métis soldiers on a hitherto unknown battleground created an aura of mystery.

It is more than a coincidence that there were three members of the Choquette family who died while serving in the RWR.  The three Choquette boys were known to me.  They were:

Rfn Morris J. Choquette of Oakville, Manitoba:  He died on June 8 ‘44 at the age of 24 and is buried at Beny-sur-Mer Canadian War Cemetery.  He was the son of David and Mary Choquette.  Choquette Bay (64 P/4) in Oolduywas Lake was named after him.  It is in the same square mile as Choquette Lake, named for Edmond Choquette (chronicled later); that is near Nueltin Lake.

Rfn Roland J. Choquette of St. Boniface, Manitoba:  He died on August 15 ‘44 at the age of 22.  He is buried in Bretteville-sur-Laize Cemetery.  He was the son of George and Aurora Choquette.  Choquette Point (64 I/13) on Shethanei Lake was named after him.  It is also in the square mile numbered 64.

Rfn Ed Choquette of Glenora, Manitoba:  Choquette Lake (64 N/6) carries his name; it is southwest of Nueltin Lake.  He is buried in Adegem Cemetery.  He lasted longer than the other two Choquettes, having died of wounds on October 28 ‘44 after a valiant battle at the Leopold Canal.  He was 26 years old.  Carrying on the tradition of the Choquettes, another cousin, Pte Lawrence Choquette served in the Queen’s Own Cameron Highlanders of Winnipeg and died on August 8 ‘44.

The documentary Against All Odds, which I produced in 1988, contains a short vignette.  I was filming grave sites, identifying the headstones of Winnipeg Rifles.  I pointed to the headstones of twelve of my Company, then came to the last headstone.   I was shocked and said on tape:  “My God, Edmund Choquette.”  Unbeknownst to me a German shell had killed him outright.  My nerves were in tatters for several days after seeing Ed’s grave. 

WORTHY OF NOTE!  It was common, prior to World War II, to call the Métis ‘half-breeds.’  The designation ‘half-breed’ fell into disuse when the RWR realized that it was a derogatory term.  The descendants of those fighters who had given such a stirring account of themselves against the ‘whites’ from the prairies in the Riel Rebellion of 1885 deserved a better nomenclature than the ignoble ‘half-breed.’  They were soon assimilated into the Winnipegs and certainly achieved equal status.  More to the point, those known as ‘half-breeds’ would resort to fisticuffs if challenged by this degrading term.  The name was first shortened to ‘breed’ and, before the Normandy campaign finished, they were ‘Métis’ – the proud descendants of a fighting tradition.

The manner in which the Métis could carry out a patrol left the regular Germans in awe and fearful.  As well, mentioned herein, is their ability as snipers and marksmen.

Their experience in the Armed Forces in World War II should have changed the public’s view of what they still termed the half-breed.  Unfortunately, the Métis could not take advantage of the generous rehabilitation plans offered to returning veterans.  If they wanted to enter trade school, they would need some basic education – a component which was denied them due to their nomadic existence and lack of schools.  In one now-famous anecdote, a Métis with what would amount to a grade three education, gained in four different schools as his family moved around the prairies, visited a Veterans Affairs office.  The counsellor ran through the options available under the Veterans Charter.  The interview ended by asking the Métis if he would like to become a lawyer or a doctor – this, to a man who had no education!  He had fought valiantly for his country and was among the top soldiers in the infantry.  Like most of his compatriots, he walked out of the DVA office in disgust – back to a canvas and two-by-four tent on a road allowance near St. Ambrois, just north of Portage la Prairie in the Brandon, Manitoba district.

In the last entry, I provided a profile of Eisenhower from the book Great Land Battles of World War II, by Ian Hogg.  In this entry, I continue with a profile on Montgomery.

Field-Marshal Sir Bernard Law Montgomery (1887 – 1976)

Opinionated, self-assured, a rigid disciplinarian, a non-smoker and teetotaler, with a sense of the theatrical, for all that, Montgomery deserves his place as one of the outstanding commanders of the Second World War and one of the greatest British generals of history.  He never suffered fools for one second longer than necessary, never hesitated to fire an incompetent commander, but was revered by the common soldiers as the man who won battles, and after the long British run of ill-fortune in 1939 – 42 this was the thing which counted.  He has often been denigrated as ‘never willing to take a chance,’ but the other side of the coin is that he was a firmly orthodox soldier who was not seduced by get-rich-quick schemes of warfare and who never committed his troops to battle without weighing all the options and making sure he had all the men and equipment he thought necessary to win.

Montgomery came from an Anglo-Irish family, attended the Royal Military Academy, and was commissioned in to the Royal Warwickshire Regiment in which he served with distinction during the First World War.  After various staff appointments, he commanded the 1st Bn of his regiment in 1938 – 39 and on the outbreak of war took the 3rd Division to France.  He commanded it skillfully during the collapse of France and the withdrawal through Dunkirk, and on returning to England received command of 5th Corps.  Here he built on an existing reputation as a high-quality trainer of troops with his insistence on physical fitness and sound tactical training.

He was marked down to be Eisenhower’s deputy for the North African landings, but on the death in an air crash of General Gott, Commander-designate of the 8th Army, Montgomery was sent to Egypt to assume his place.  He revitalized the Desert Armies, discarded most of the eccentric quasi-organizations which had fragmented the force and sapped morale, reinstated the correct formal organizations, and proceeded to fight the Battle of El Alamein and eject the German Army from Egypt.  He then pursued Rommel for the length of Africa and eventually, in conjunction with Eisenhower’s forces in Tunisia, completed the clearance of that continent.

He commanded the 8th Army in Sicily and Italy with distinction but was then returned to England to take command of 21st Army Group, the land forces involved in the invasion of Europe.  He immediately imposed his views on the planners, to the benefit of the eventual plan, and also made sure that the invasion troops were trained to the standard he felt was desirable.  Once ashore, he conducted a skillful campaign designed to draw the German armoured strength on to the northern sector while the American element made their breakout in the south, a plan which worked admirably.

In August the US 12th Army Group was formed, after which Montgomery was responsible only for the British and Commonwealth forces in the Armies of Liberation.  After crossing France and arriving close to the German border the Allied troops were brought to a halt by supply problems; here Montgomery sowed the first seeds of dissent by proposing, with Bradley, a single thrust into Germany.  Unfortunately neither commander would agree to be subordinate to the other, and Eisenhower resolved the deadlock by assuming overall command of the group and maintaining his theory of a broad front thrust.  This left Montgomery free to go north through Belgium and Holland in an attempt to outflank Germany, but this plan was severely curtailed by the failure of the airborne attack on Arnhem – possibly the only operation of Montgomery’s which failed, and that failure was principally due to elements of command which were in Britain and outside his control.

Montgomery’s next testing came with the German attack in the Ardennes.  The spearhead of 8 Panzer divisions split the allied front in two, and Eisenhower placed all the forces north of the split – which included large US elements – under Montgomery.  This was an obvious command move, but Montgomery’s somewhat acid remarks about US competence did little to endear him to the Americans.

After the Ardennes, 21st Army Group advanced into Germany fighting a text-book series of set-piece battles, until Montgomery finally sat down in a tent on the Luneberg Heath on 8 May, 1945 and accepted the surrender of all the German forces in the West.

In post war years he became Chief of the Imperial General Staff and Deputy Commander to Allied Forces Europe; in the former role he made considerable improvements in the living conditions of the soldiers of the British Army, for which he was universally respected, and in the latter post he was a strong protagonist of European self-defense.