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  TERRIBLE VICTORY

  TERRIBLE

  VICTORY

  FIRST CANADIAN ARMY AND THE

  SCHELDT ESTUARY CAMPAIGN:

  SEPTEMBER 13–NOVEMBER 6, 1944

  MARK ZUEHLKE

  Copyright © 2007 by Mark Zuehlke

  First paperback edition 2008

  08 09 10 11 12 5 4 3 2 1

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a

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  Douglas & McIntyre Ltd.

  2323 Quebec Street, Suite 201

  Vancouver, British Columbia

  Canada V5T 4S7

  www.douglas-mcintyre.com

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Zuehlke, Mark

  Terrible victory : First Canadian Army and the Scheldt Estuary campaign,

  Sept. 13–Nov. 6, 1944 / by Mark Zuehlke.

  Includes bibliographical references and index.

  ISBN 978-1-55365-227-4 (cloth) · 978-1-55365-404-9 (paper)

  1. Scheldt River Estuary, Battle of, 1944.

  2. Canada. Canadian Army—History—World War, 1939-1945.

  3. World War, 1939–1945—Campaigns—Netherlands.

  4. World War, 1939-1945—Campaigns—Belgium. I. Title

  D756.5.S34Z84 2007 940.54’21 C2007-901955-2

  Editing by Elizabeth McLean

  Jacket design by Naomi MacDougall & Peter Cocking

  Interior design by Peter Cocking

  Jacket photographs: top: photographer unknown, LAC E004665470

  bottom: Daniel Guravich, LAC PA-138284

  Maps by C. Stuart Daniel/Starshell Maps

  Printed and bound in Canada by Friesens

  Printed on forest-friendly paper

  We gratefully acknowledge the financial support of the Canada

  Council for the Arts, the British Columbia Arts Council, the Province

  of British Columbia through the Book Publishing Tax Credit,

  and the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry

  Development Program (BPIDP) for our publishing activities.

  OTHER MILITARY HISTORY BY MARK ZUEHLKE

  Holding Juno: Canada’s Heroic Defence of the

  D-Day Beaches: June 7–12, 1944*

  Juno Beach: Canada’s D-Day Victory: June 6, 1944*

  The Gothic Line: Canada’s Month of Hell in World War II Italy*

  The Liri Valley: Canada’s World War II Breakthrough to Rome*

  Ortona: Canada’s Epic World War II Battle*

  The Canadian Military Atlas: Four Centuries of Conflict from

  New France to Kosovo (with C. Stuart Daniel)*

  The Gallant Cause: Canadians in the

  Spanish Civil War, 1936–1939

  For Honour’s Sake: The War of 1812

  and the Brokering of an Uneasy Peace

  * Available from Douglas & McIntyre

  War is a crime. Ask the infantry, ask the dead.

  ERNEST HEMINGWAY

  To most soldiers who fought from the beaches through to Germany,

  the fighting in the Scheldt was the worst and most ferocious.

  CAPTAIN E.C. LUXTON, REGINA RIFLES

  That Scheldt was hell on earth.

  LIEUTENANT BILL HAYWARD,

  NORTH SHORE (NEW BRUNSW ICK) REGIMENT

  [ CONTENTS ]

  Preface

  Acknowledgements

  Maps

  INTRODUCTION A Simple Plan

  PART ONE THE FALL OF DREAMS

  1 Beginning of the End

  2 The Jewel

  3 The Streetcar War

  4 A Very Heavy Program

  5 Illusion of Victory

  6 Poor Devils

  7 Simonds Takes Command

  PART TWO THE CINDERELLA DAYS

  8 Off Our Backsides

  9 Close to the Danger Line

  10 A Hard Fight

  11 With Devastating Effect

  12 Did Our Best

  13 A Hell of a Way to Go

  14 In the Back Door

  PART THREE TIGHTENING THE RING

  15 Of First Importance

  16 The Toughest Yet

  17 A Godsend

  18 Black Friday

  19 Dominate the Situation

  20 To the Last Cartridge

  21 Foot-Slogging Jobs

  PART FOUR FIGHT TO THE FINISH

  22 Troops on the Ground

  23 The South Beveland Race

  24 Let’s Take the Damned Place

  25 The Damned Causeway

  26 A Fine Performance

  EPILOGUE The Scheldt in Memory

  APPENDIX A Canadians in the Scheldt:

  September 13 – November 6, 1944

  APPENDIX B Canadian Infantry Battalion

  APPENDIX C Canadian and German Army Order of Ranks

  APPENDIX D The Decorations

  Notes

  Bibliography

  General Index

  Index of Formations, Units, and Corps

  PREFACE

  AFTER COMPLETING the two-volume series—Juno Beach and Holding Juno, which detailed the opening seven days of the invasion of Normandy, I paused to consider what part of Canada’s World War II military experience should come next. Certainly, my resolve to continue this work was strong, and there remained many significant battles fought by the Canadian Army to write about. During conversations with Major Michael Boire and others who have helped me immensely over the years since I embarked on a road that has now yielded six books on the war, I broached the idea of a book on First Canadian Army’s battle to open the Scheldt estuary in the late summer and early fall of 1944. “Little glory in that one,” Michael opined. “And damned complicated and hard to tell,” he cautioned.

  Preliminary research confirmed his opinion, but it also left me determined to tell the story. Initially, I worried that perhaps this battle had already been extensively covered, but—as had been true with Canada’s role in D-Day, this proved not the case. There was Denis and Shelagh Whitaker’s Tug of War, but, as Denis Whitaker was the commander of the Royal Hamilton Light Infantry, it concentrated mostly on operations of 2nd Canadian Infantry Division north of Antwerp. Then there were several books about Canada’s role in Allied operations in northwest Europe that hustled through the Scheldt in a chapter or two. Even C.P. Stacey’s official history, The Victory Campaign, treated the Scheldt campaign curiously—giving the events of September scant coverage, and rushing through 4th Canadian Armoured Division’s operations from mid-October to early November to the east of 2 CID in a few paragraphs. Undoubtedly, the motivation here was conservation of pages in what was necessarily a large volume.

  But something else about Stacey’s treatment caught my eye. A “Cinderella Operation,” he called it, meaning that the Canadians had to do much with the leavings of supplies not allocated to other Allied armies. As the vital port of Antwerp remained closed to Allied shipping until the campaign was concluded, he seemed unduly apologetic about how long it took to finish the job. Stacey tends to undervalue the contribution of the army he was detailed to write about as its official historian, but regarding the Scheldt he seemed even more extreme.

  Digging deep into the records, gathering veteran accounts, and conducting an extensive, detailed tour of the battleground itself, I came away with the opinion that First Canadian Army’s conduct of the Battle of the Scheldt had, given the resources provided, been exemplary. I w
as also struck by the incredibly difficult conditions in which this battle was fought. Repeatedly, veterans referred to it as the worst fighting they saw in the war, and it was easy to see the truth of this.

  Was there glory there? In today’s world, the word rings as almost archaic. Curiously, I have never heard a veteran use the word. But they do unhesitatingly mention related terms, such as pride and honour. They honour their comrades, are proud of their regiment, and respect the role that Canada played in this titanic struggle for freedom. As has been the case with my past books, Terrible Victory is ultimately a tribute to the many thousands of young—often painfully so—Canadians who put their lives at risk in the service of their country. No one in this volunteer army had to go overseas.

  In the style of my other books, the story is told by interlacing personal accounts of veterans with material drawn from official records, regimental histories, and many other sources. Hundreds of documents were consulted to ensure that the events are portrayed as accurately as possible. Often, of course, accounts of events from one source differ with those from another. And veteran memory sometimes conflicts with the official record. In such cases, I have consulted as many sources as possible in an attempt to arrive at a reasonable conclusion as to where the truth likely lies.

  A WORD ABOUT spelling of place names is in order. Anyone who has travelled in Flemish Belgium will have encountered the problem. You drive towards a village marked on the map as, say, St. Leonard. But you never find it. Instead, you realize the village just passed, identified by signs as Sint-Lenaarts, was the place you sought. The maps Canadians used in World War II Belgium were based on Belgian Army maps, which translated Flemish place names into French ones. Out of respect to the Flemish, who suffered heavily in the fighting to open Antwerp, I have used the Flemish spellings—except for the commonly Anglicized place names of Antwerp (Antwerpen) and Ghent (Gent). Where the Belgian border meets the Netherlands, another difficulty arises, for the two nationalities often disagree on the spelling of places close by. In these cases, I have used the Flemish spelling when in Belgium and Dutch when in the Netherlands. British readers will particularly note that the city of Vlissingen on Walcheren Island is not referred to as Flushing—habitually the case in British works.

  Although the number of veteran accounts and recollections of this battle is fewer than has been the case in my past books, I was struck by how closely their memories coincided with the “official” record. Seldom was there any significant contradiction beyond the occasional inability to place an event on the correct date. Our World War II veterans are aging, but the memories of most can still be trusted, regarding these weeks when First Canadian Army underwent its most gruelling test of arms.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  A SPECIAL DEBT OF thanks is owed to the many veterans whose experiences of the Scheldt Campaign appear here. This time out, fewer were available to be personally interviewed or corresponded with, but fortunately many had contributed reminiscences to regimental histories, various archives, or been interviewed previously by other sources. Particularly, I must thank Professor Cecil Law for his enthusiastic correspondence with me about his personal experiences as a young lieutenant in the South Saskatchewan Regiment and for helping piece that regiment’s role in the battle together so well. He also spent many hours photocopying and taping together topographic maps of the Scheldt battlefield from his collection that were invaluable in tracing the ebb and flow of the battle. Once again, Ken MacLeod of Langley, B.C. made interviews of veterans in the Vancouver area available, and John Gregory Thompson did the same in southern Ontario. The Royal Winnipeg Rifles Association (British Columbia Association) provided a copy of their veteran account collection entitled Perspectives. And, yet again, to Johan, Francis, Luc, and many others for working out civilian casualties.

  Ottawa translator and very good friend Alex MacQuarrie provided frequent and extensive translations of both Dutch and French sources. Colonel Tony Poulin translated Le Régiment de la Chaudière’s war diary and regimental history for me. A World War II and Korean War veteran, he is dearly missed.

  In Holland, I could not have done without the immense contribution of time and wisdom made by Johan van Doorn. Happening upon my website and seeing that I was working on a book about the Scheldt, he contacted me, and from this a friendship has flourished. His extensive knowledge of World War II operations in Holland was invaluable. He also put me in touch with other Dutch and Belgian historians who went out of their way to share what knowledge they could. In Belgium, they are Francis Huijbrechts, Luc Cox, and Wally Schoofs; in Holland, Tom Goossens and Rene Hoebeke. Rene’s 928-page Slagveld Sloedam is undoubtedly the ultimate work on the Walcheren Causeway fighting. Additional thanks to Francis for assistance in getting the Belgian name places correct, and to Luc for checking these twice.

  At the Directorate of Heritage and History, Department of National Defence, Dr. Steve Harris spent time discussing the Scheldt Campaign and ensuring that I was able to access every relevant document in the collection. Michel Litalien was also helpful here. Jane Naisbitt and Carol Reid did similar service at the Canadian War Museum Library and Archives. Staff at Library and Archives Canada went out of their way to enable a researcher from out of town to make best use of extremely limited time. Chris Petter and staff at the University of Victoria’s Special Collections were their usual pleasure to deal with.

  Writing of this book was greatly assisted by a grant from Canada Council for the Arts. Also on the professional front, my agent Carolyn Swayze continues to do wonders at helping to keep this writer’s career solvent and advancing in the right direction.

  Scott McIntyre’s enthusiasm as the publisher of Douglas & McIntyre for more Canadian battle books is laudable, and also makes continuation of this work possible. Once again, Elizabeth McLean stepped into the breach to edit the manuscript, an act for which I am very grateful. And C. Stuart Daniel was there once more to draw the maps that are so vital in enabling readers to follow the action.

  On the home front, Frances Backhouse patiently listened yet again to endless war stories, and was always supportive. That two writers can thrive and live under the same roof remains a source of special wonder to me, but I am very glad this has proved to be so.

  Maps

  [INTRODUCTION]

  A Simple Plan

  IT ALL DEPENDED on 360 Canadian infantrymen. But that seemed natural to these men of the Algonquin Regiment. For this regiment, hailing from North Bay, Ontario, proudly wore on their regimental badge the motto NE-KAH-NE-TAH, an Algonquin Indian phrase pronouncing: “We lead, others follow.” If they succeeded, 4th Canadian Armoured Division would follow them across the two canals like a runaway storm, flooding over the intervening Belgian and Dutch lowlands clear to the southern bank of the Scheldt estuary’s western arm.

  The plan looked simple, even tidy, on paper. Divisional commander Major General Harry Foster’s operational order of September 13, 1944 set it out in crisp, terse language: “At zero hr [2200] tonight Alg[onquin] R[egiment] will force a crossing of the canal Dérivation de la Lys and the canal Leopold in the area of Moerkerke… This bridgehead will be exploited as far as possible to enable bridging to be carried out… 4 Cdn Armd Div will then fan out in both directions to clear the north bank of the canal Leopold pushing on as fast as possible to Fort Frederik Hendrik.”1 This fortress ruin seemed easily within the division’s grasp, little more than fifteen miles north of the village of Moerkerke. A few hundred yards southeast of the fort lay Breskens, a small port town through which the Germans were frantically ferrying men and equipment across the estuary’s three-mile-wide mouth to the port of Vlissingen on Walcheren Island.

  With Breskens in Canadian hands, Fifteenth German Army would be denied this last-ditch avenue of escape. Nearly 100,000 troops still on the southern shore would be trapped—their only choice to surrender or to be destroyed piecemeal at First Canadian Army’s leisure. The loss of such a great number of men would deal Germany a catastrophi
c blow certain to shorten the war. Additionally, the first major step in opening the Scheldt estuary to enable ships to reach the giant port of Antwerp, already in Allied hands, would be complete. With its miles of undamaged docks available to offload desperately needed supplies, a final nail would be driven into Hitler’s coffin.

  Nobody expected the Algonquin attack to come off as smoothly as Foster’s order implied, but the prevailing belief emanating from First Canadian Army’s headquarters was that “a sudden surprise crossing would keep the enemy on the move.” Strung out along the twelve-mile stretch where the two canals ran tightly parallel to each other were reportedly no more than five thousand men—all that remained of the badly mauled 245th Infantry Division. Caught off guard, they should have no opportunity to launch an effective counterattack. “There were,” army intelligence officers stated, “no indications of the enemy being in strength on the opposite side of the canals.”2 If the attack was put in quickly, boldly, and with minimal advance reconnaissance in order to prevent tipping the Germans off, success should be assured. Dissenting voices, such as that of 4th Division’s Captain Ernie Sirluck, who suspected that the Germans lurked behind the canal in far greater strength, were dismissed as alarmist and further proof that reports by division and brigade intelligence officers were seldom credible.3

  Studying the intelligence appreciation handed down to the Algonquins on the morning of September 13, Major George L. Cassidy assumed “the enemy was thoroughly disorganized, had scarcely any equipment, and was taking refuge behind the canal in a sort of desperation. In any case, it was felt he would show little or no fight if attacked in force. With these soothing words in our ears, we were told that we had been elected to make the initial crossing… It was also made known that reinforcements would arrive in the afternoon. Some of these were the result of another ‘comb-out’ of specialist people, such as carpenters, shoemakers, etc. Each company was to be built up to a strength of ninety all ranks, and, upon the arrival of the assault boats, each company would carry out a short training period on the erection and carrying of these.”4