From the St. Lawrence to the Yser with the 1st Canadian brigade — A Reader’s Guide

Witnessing the Aftermath of Gas Attacks

Curry provides a harrowing description of chlorine gas casualties he encountered near Hill 60. Visiting a crowded hospital, he observes men lying on stretchers in a garden, shielded only by an awning, while the worst cases occupy a long hall upstairs. He writes of victims with faces "a livid purple or an even ghastlier green," each with a bowl beside him, coughing. The death, he emphasizes, comes not from a bullet but by gradual drowning as fluid accumulates in the lungs. Curry explicitly counters German claims that this method was painless, calling it "this most ghastly and hideous death." His account is notable for its clinical detail and moral outrage, grounded in his stated background as "somewhat of a chemist."

Civilian Encounters and the Phrase 'C'est la guerre'

In Bailleul, Curry recounts interactions with locals that reveal the war's impact on daily life. An elderly priest shows axe marks on a cathedral door left by German soldiers who used the tower as an observing post. When asked about his treatment as a hostage, the priest replies, "Qu'est-ce que vous voulez? C'est, la guerre!" Curry interprets this as "the doctrine of humility taught France in 1870" and notes the phrase is used to explain everything from civilian shootings to the high cost of handmade lace. A jeweller provides more detail: her rings were stolen, watch glasses deliberately broken, and show-case glass smashed with sword hilts. Across the square, champagne was confiscated and café tables burned. Curry's companion dismisses further hearsay, saying "Hearsay evidence is not admitted," a remark that underscores the memoir's evidentiary stance.

Bathing Parades and the Logistics of Hygiene

Amidst the grimness, Curry describes a practical innovation: divisional baths set up in an old factory. Each man received a hot tub, soap, a clean towel, and fresh underwear, turning in soiled clothes. Later, sterilization was added, ensuring "freedom for a short time at least from vermin." The process required running the company through in batches of forty, giving officers time to explore the town. Curry notes that at the asylum, officers could obtain a full-length bath. This section illustrates the mundane yet critical efforts to maintain troop health, contrasting with the horrors of gas casualties and civilian suffering. The detail about the asylum bath adds a touch of everyday life behind the lines.

Curry's preface frames the book as a personal account, not a detailed history, and his text bears that out: it is strongest in specific, observed moments—the gas ward, the priest's shrug, the bath parade—rather than in strategic overview. Readers should approach it as a fragmentary record, one that deliberately includes a fictional character to avoid naming every individual. The catalog subjects classify it under personal narratives and Canadian involvement, but the excerpts reveal a work equally concerned with the texture of war: its bureaucratic routines, its civilian casualties, and its moral reckonings.

There’s something about that officer’s quiet trick—the fictionalized soldier standing in for the unnamable—that lingers. He made the horror bearable by making it someone else’s, just for a moment. I found the same strange comfort leafing through Generals of the British Army Portraits in Colour with Introductory and Biographical Notes — Reading Companion, those calm faces staring out, untouched by the mud, almost like old friends I never got to meet.