Private Sydney Pink

Private Sydney Pink

2537366

Born – Guilford, Surrey England

Lived in New York, New York

Killed in Action, Sept 29, 1918 in the approach on Cambrai at Raillencourt, Sainte Olle British Cemetery

He grew up in a town that was more medieval than modern. It was situated just southwest of London, and upon attaining the age of 20, he decided that bigger and brighter things were in store for him. The scene that followed is almost stereotypical. A fresh, faced young man…bursting with energy, passion and positivity, watched his home country fade into the distance as he set off to a new land. Then, a few days later he peered over the bow, and through the coastal mist when he saw it. Appearing out of nothingness, was the center of the universe, a mountain range of towers soaring into the sky…it was New York City. Disembarking from the vessel he was consumed by the sea of people and instantly became one of them.

From his sleepy origins, he soon found himself in the epicenter of the epicenter of civilizations. He lived and worked just a block away from Grand Central Station. Acting as a stewart in a hotel, stepping out in the streets he would be bombarded by sounds. Constant. A barrage of noises…never-ending traffic, the buzz of the masses, non-stop, by day, by night. Every corner would act as his virtual Twitter feed with information blasted at him by every direction. There was no way around it. From 1914 to 1915 to 1916 to 1917 he would know every circumstance in France, Belgium or even Russia and Turkey virtually as they happened. This was the age of information where Trans-Atlantic telegraphs could update the other side of the world moments after the event occurred….and all this information first arrived in New York City. It was understandable that a young, ex-pat like Sydney Pink would eventually come to the realization that after so much death and destruction his country needed him.

26 year old Sydney was a portly young man. Weighing in at 160 pounds and reaching the height of 5 ft 6, he was solid. In the spring of 1917, Sydney travelled to Toronto and enlisted with the 10th Regiment also known as the Royal Regiment of Canada. After basic training he proceeded to England and bounced around to the 2nd Reserve Battalion then the 8th Reserve Battalion before being transferred to the 116th in April 1918.

If you put yourself into the boots of young Private Pink, you can imagine the things the young man had seen. Guildford, England of his youth looked like it was still in the 1500s. Then moving to and living in Manhattan when it was the most exciting, celebrated metropolis on earth. Then suddenly finding himself on the edge of Armageddon…watching the most advanced civilizations on earth pounding another into mush. Life and death becoming essentially meaningless…man treated as nothing more precious than the odd bits of trash that nonchalantly get swept into a gutter. And with this perspective, being just one of the bits, he accepted his role, his duty, his need and proceeded forward.

On the 29th of September, after only 136 days serving in France, the stewart from New York City…the man who was more accustomed to refreshing your glass or replacing your napkin was tossed into the meat grinder. Rifle in hand and following the poor lad in front of him, Private Pink waded into the morass. On the approach to the village of Raillencourt on the way to Petit Fontaine, Sydney and his company wandered into a downpour of crisscrossing machine gun fire. They were virtually wiped out to a man. 74 men from the battalion were killed in the action and scores more left wounded, unable to continue. And as he lay wounded, dying the next Company from the 116th eliminated the gunners, merely bypassed the obstacle and moved on…leaving the remains of Private Sydney Pink and his battalion mates forever to rest in the French soil.

Lest we forget

Private Arthur Augustus Clark

Private Arthur Augustus Clark

2537330

Born - Port Perry ON

Killed in Action at Raillencourt in Battle of Canal du Nord

The telegram arrived sometime late in the third week of October. It was the fifth year of the war and the newspapers were speculating that the war would soon be over. The boys would be coming home. Arthur would soon be coming home. That was the thought, hope and wishes of Ester and Willard Clark. The buzz of excitement combined with trepidation was shared by all. The notice that a message was going to be delivered was not expected…but at the same time, it was also not entirely unexpected. The Clarks knew that a major attack was taking place over in France and their son was taking part in it. All the moms and dads in town who had sons ‘over there’ were fully aware what it meant when the telegram delivery boy came to your house. And despite this, when they heard the knock at the door, they did not entirely expect it. How could you really? It could have been anyone…but it wasn’t.

Three weeks later, on November 11th with the ringing of the bells in the town churches, it was announced that the war was finally over. Even in those day, news travelled fast. Spontaneous celebrations broke out everywhere. One would expect that all the townsfolks would rise in jubilation. But that was not the case. Three months earlier an historic campaign was initiated to try to end the war. The result was a wave of tragedy reaching into homes in communities across the country and the town of Port Perry was not spared. Along with the Clarks, telegrams were also received by Mr Joseph Hood, Mr. Henry Doubt and Mrs. Francis Clark that month…and that was just for sons killed while serving in the 116th Battalion. Other parents with sons in other battalions would all feel the pain of loss that terrible month. And yet the town still burst with joy at the news. A long parade of cars with banners and flags gather in the town center. Less that two blocks away, the Clarks would be able to see the glow rising above the homes from the huge bonfire being held behind the Post Office. One would have to wonder if the knowledge that while their own son would not be returning, that the sons of their friends and family would provide them a modicum of solace and peace…to know his sacrifice was not in vain.

Their son, Authur Augustus Clark was someone they were proud of. He was a skilled tradesman who lived in a suburban part of Toronto with his home virtually backing on to the newly opened Scarboro Golf Club. While he did not have a family, one would presume that the world was his oyster. Yet, when the call mas made, Artur returned it. On June 14th, 1917 he enlisted with the 10th Royal Grenadier, affiliated with the Royal Regiment of Canada, a storied Canadian military unit. They arrived in England on Dec 7th.

Once in England he was transferred to the 2nd Canadian Reserve Battalion before moving to the 6th Reserve and ultimately joining the 116th on April 7th. At this time the battalion was replacing the men lost from the series of devastating losses in 1917. Drafts of new men were received throughout the spring and additional reinforcements added just prior to the main events in September. On the morning of September 29th, Private Clark and his company had just eliminated the nest of machine guns that decimated A and B companies. They proceeded 1.5 kms west to towards the next objective, a village named Petite Fontaine. It was sometime in the morning on that terrible day when it happened. The details on his death are not known…other than it was simply recorded as having been “Killed in Action”.

Lest we forget.

Private James William Tennison

Private James William Tennison

3317099

Born Hastings, ON 1890

Killed in Action – Oct 1, 1918 - Battle of Canal du Nord, St Olle, Cambrai, France

Some were so eager to join. Waking before the dawn, they would proudly march into town in hopes of being the first in line. Others enlisted either as a sense of duty, obligation to their community and countrymen. The pressure was quite intense in those days. Friends, family, priests, teachers or local newly commissioned officers made sure that every man knew what was expected of them. The first wave was strong yet each wave thereafter tended to be a bit smaller and smaller. Meanwhile the lines at the recruitment offices were replaced by crowds of the mothers and fathers, local members if the community lining up to purchase a newspaper or gathering to read from those posted in town. With fear and interest, they would nervously scan the broadsheets looking for an update on whom from their town was killed or injured overseas.

It was from this perspective that I introduce you to James William Tennison. He was a 27 yr old man, a journeyman labourer working, probably on a farm, in a speck of a town in Central Ontario called Sebright. Sebright, then as it is now, is merely a collection of structures situated at a crossroads. After four years of war, the war and its’ tragic losses would have consumed all of the conversations the young man engaged in. He would have seen friends go never to return. Yet, despite all the pressure some are just not always made for military combat. They love their country but may not have the passion to die in a far away land for it. Yet, at the same time, their country needed men to do its’ duty. Canada needed men to help bolster the effectiveness and capabilities of its’ Expeditionary Force and for that, if you did not volunteer, you were voluntold. Drafted.

James was one of these men. He was drafted in the fall of 1917, completed and passed his medical exam on Oct 29th, 1917. He was then provided a date for him to return and transition from citizen to soldier. Jan 8th, 1918. Upon arrival he exchanged his dungarees for khaki’s and was now part of the 2nd Depot Battalion (2CORD). The draft of new soldiers crammed aboard the SS Meganitic on March 4th and departed for England. Upon arrival, the men proceeded for basic training at Camp Witley. His final transfer would be to the 116th Battalion on August 18th 1918, ten days after the big push has started. ON the 20th of August, Private Tennison was in France, more fuel for the war machine.

On the morning of Oct 1st, the men were cold and wet, due to the rain having poured down upon them all night. They spent the previous day collecting themselves, those who remained that is, for the battalion lost 280 men on the 29th of September. It was the worst day of the war for the 116th. The time was 6:00 am and “D”, “C” and “B” companies were moving onto Douai-Cambrai Road where they were suddenly bombarded by German artillery. It was here, a mere 40 days since stepping onto the continent that Private James William Tennison lost his life. He was struck and killed by shellfire. The reluctant warrior rests in the Canada Cemetery in Cambrai France.

Lest we forget.

Private Shuman, Private McArthur and Private Kelly

Private Orville Grant Shuman

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Born 1879 – Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan

Emigrated to America – Kansas City, MO

Killed in Action Sept 29, 1918 and Buried at Crest Cemetery in Raillencourt, France

Private Thomas Archie McArthur

6106214

Born 1898 Montreal Quebec

Emigrated to America – Kansas City, MO

Killed in Action Sept 29, 1918 and Buried at Crest Cemetery in Raillencourt, France

Private John Edmund Kelly

3106189

Born 1885 – Montreal, Quebec

Emigrated to America – Springfield, IL

Killed in Action Sept 29, 1918 and Buried at Crest Cemetery in Raillencourt, France

Three Canadians were all emigrants to the United States. They left their homes in the great white north to travel to The Land of Opportunity, America, in search of their fortune…or at least try to attain it. Yet…on one early December morning in cold snowy Toronto all three found themselves together in the same line to enlist with the Canadian Expeditionary Force. One was a grizzled veteran, a 38 yr old man from Kansas City, Missouri. His name was Orville Grant Shuman. He was single, of average height and build and worked as a machinist assistant. Just a few steps away in line was the slight waif of a man. Thomas Archie Macarthur also from Kansas City. This barely legal gent barely registered on the scale weighting in at only 114 lbs. The third man of the trio was John Edmund Kelly. He was a beast. A 33 yr old man from Springfield Illinois who towered to a height of 5 ft 11 and ¾, (to be precise) brown hair and brown eyes…with tattoos on both arms. He was a pillar of strength probably earned from his time spent in the US Navy.

The men who gathered alongside Orville, Thomas and John were all latecomers to the war. Earlier in 1917 the Military Services Act was passed by Parliament. This enacted conscription requiring all men between the ages of 19 and 45 to sign up for military service. The majority of the men who attested that day were men looking to sign up before having to be conscripted. There was thirst for bodies to bolster the ranks in the trenches and if Canadian men did not join voluntarily, they would be compelled to participate. However, there was another group of men who travelled to Canada to enlist. These were men from America. Whether they be expat Canucks or Brits or full-blood Yanks, it was well known that the fastest way to the front was with the CEF. Incredibly, 40,000 Americans enlisted with and fought with a Maple Leaf stitched to the shoulder on their uniform. In the case or Orville, Thomas and John, these three took it upon themselves to the journey across the border, find the Canadian Expedition Grounds and join up for the war effort.

The specifics regarding their individual experiences in Britain and France is not well documented, however we know they all did it together. The three men enlisted on the same day, spent the next two months preparing for departure together, and all three packed on to the SS Scandinavian for the trip across the pond to arrive in Liverpool on Feb 18th. The trio were together transferred to the 8th Reserve Battalion and all participated in basic training at East Sanding Camp before being sent to the 116th.

The men would have learned how to salute together. They would have learned to march around the parade grounds with increased proficiency together. Once by one they would be cheering each other for musketry competitions or when it was their turn to jab the imaginary Germans with his bayonet. Whether it be the cold incessant rains of winter in the south of England, the slimy mud from within the mock trenches or the unbelievable pleasantry of a spring evening laughing with your mates over a pint at the camp canteen…the men would have always been together.

On the 20th of August 1918, ten days after the Big Push kicked off, the men would land together in France with a draft of replacement soldiers. Their sole job was to replace those who have fallen in battle. By the time they joined the battalion in the field, 152 men would have been killed in the previous 22 days. A multiple of that would have put out of commission after being wounded, gassed or succumbing to a mental breakdown from the constant artillery, death, gore and destruction. Ready or not, these men were needed and the war welcomed their arrival.

The men were effectively joining a battle in mid-attack. There was no room for practice nor solace for the men. The only thing they would have of comfort or familiarity would have been each other. The previous 8 months would cause them to become the only family they had, and the only family they would ever have. They may have leaned on John for leadership because of his military experience. Orville may have taken young Thomas under his wing and looked to protect him like a son. Young Thomas would have needed it…he claimed he was 18 when he joined, however as he did leave a Boys Home in Kansas City to enlist experience could deduct that he might have been closer to 16 than 18. Yet, together they would trudge forward as soldiers. On the morning of their last day they would have passed the jug of rum to each other, shared a wee shot of courage together they would have waited together for the signal to move forward. The three were together on the far-left sections of men preparing for the attack that morning. And as the sound of the guns died down after the ferocious battles that took place that day, the three Americans, the three mates, would all lie together in a field outside of a village of Raillencourt.

Lest we forget.

(photo if John Edmund Kelly...if you have photo's of Thomas or Orville please post)