Not because it was funny, but because it was the only way to survive it.
In the trenches of the First World War, soldiers turned fear into sarcasm and horror into humour. Shellfire became “just a bit of a strafe.” Terror was softened into “the wind up.” And sometimes, a wound meant a darkly joked-about “ticket home.”
But it went further than that. They wrote parody songs, shared lewd jokes, printed trench newspapers, and even composed poetic odes to rum: small acts of defiance against a world coming apart.
This episode explores the humour that lived alongside the mud, the fear, and the constant threat of death, and what it reveals about the men who endured it.
Because in the trenches, humour wasn’t about laughter. It was about survival.
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Dawn breaks over Vimy Ridge, and with it, a nation steps forward.
For the first time, all four divisions of the Canadian Expeditionary Force fight together. What follows becomes legend; built on precision, planning, and unshakable courage.
This is the moment Canada came of age.
🎧 Listen now to my latest episode and experience Vimy like never before.
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Wilfred Chapman was born on April 25, 1898 in Peterborough, England. He came to Canada when he was about 14 years old. He moved to Toronto to live with his brother who had preceded him to this country. He enlisted in the Canadian Army when he was about 16 years old. On his arrival in England, he was assigned to a field engineers company. Mr. Chapman died in Peterborough, Ontario on October 29, 1997. ++++ When asked if it was very bloody being the 1st wave over the top, he drifts and evades the actual question.
Roy Henley was born in London, Ontario on September 29, 1898. After enlisting in Toronto in 1916 with the 166th Queens Own Rifles, he was discharged with suspected tuberculosis. Mr. Henley re-enlisted, sailed to England aboard the horse transport SS Welshman, and joined the Quebec Regiment. Mr. Henley’s recollections are detailed, sometimes graphic and occasionally humorous. His experiences spanned many battles; the Somme, Vimy Ridge, Passchendaele, Cambrai and Arras.
Alfred Mason was born in Tangier, Nova Scotia on January 4, 1895. After completing his schooling, he worked in the Tangier gold mines before moving to a job at the car works in Trenton, Nova Scotia when he was 17 years old. He would also spend some time at the steel works there and in the coal mines of northern Nova Scotia before going to Halifax in 1915 to enlist. He joined the 66th Battalion and then transferred to the 40th. He spent some time in Quebec in basic training and was then sent to England and, almost immediately, on to France. He arrived there in the Spring of 1916 as reinforcement for the 3rd Division, 8th Brigade of the 5th Battalion of the Canadian Mounted Rifles. He gives a good description of his time in the trenches and then goes on to describe the planning for the Canadian taking of Vimy Ridge.
Whitfield Ganong was born August 1, 1895 at Snider Mountain, New Brunswick. A second cousin to the Ganong chocolatiers of nearby Saint Stephen, he and his family lived on a mixed farm. Mr. Ganong enlisted in the 64th New Brunswick Battalion, having been accepted despite a bad leg and transferred to the 104th Battalion. He then joined the 26th Battalion as a Private and Lance-Corporal, and saw action in three major battles: Vimy, Hill 70 and Passchendaele. Mr. Ganong later worked as a teacher, shopkeeper and accountant, and married Katherine Ellen Herbert in 1924. He took part in a pilgrimage to France, and was shocked by the number of graves, yet awed by the work of the War Graves Commission. Mr. Ganong died on January 5th, 1989. He gives a good account of the weather and the barrage at zero hour.
Mr. Boyce describes the value of tunnels to the eventual success of the Canadian assault on Vimy, and discusses the demoralization of the defeated German prisoners.
Harry Boyce
Harry Boyce was born in Bonshaw, Prince Edward Island on September 4, 1893. After moving to Regina to work as an architect, he returned to P.E.I. to enlist with the 8th Canadian Siege Battery. He trained in Charlottetown then went overseas and continued his training at Aldershot, England, where he specialized on the 8-inch siege gun, which fired a 200 pound shell. In the autumn of 1915 he was sent to France and served during the Somme, Vimy Ridge and Le Preol. He was gassed and repatriated to Canada.
Mr. Smith describes the retaking of Vimy Ridge, and being wounded by shrapnel after reaching the Chalk Pit.
Allan A ‘Spike’ Smith
Allan A ‘Spike’ Smith was born in Minto, Manitoba on May 7, 1894. Mr. Smith enlisted while attending the University of Saskatchewan, joining the 196th Battalion. He did his basic training at Camp Hughes, Manitoba. Once overseas, he was at Camp Seaford in England when he was selected to reinforce the 46th Battalion. He saw his first action just prior to Vimy, and was wounded by shrapnel at the Chalk Pits. He returned to action at Drocourt-Queant, and was again wounded by shrapnel. He later returned to Passchendaele. He received a Military Medal for bravery. After the war, Mr. Smith became a farmer, coached a women’s volleyball team, and became an agriculture inspector. He died on August 12, 1981.
Mr. Conrad describes the fatal wounding of a fellow signaler in the forward trench at Vimy Ridge.
Frank Benjamin Conrad
Frank Benjamin Conrad was born in Sturgeon, Prince Edward Island on July 25, 1894. He enlisted in November 1914 with the 9th Field Ambulance and trained at Valcartier until June, 1915 when he transferred to the 2nd Canadian Siege Battery at Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island. He sailed to England aboard the S.S. Lapland on November 28, 1915, and arrived in France on June 1, 1916 as a signaler with the rank of Gunner. He saw action at the Somme, Vimy Ridge, Hill 70, and Passchendaele. He was wounded twice, was gassed at Hill 70, and won the Military Medal for maintaining communications under fire. After the war, Mr. Conrad married Florence Jessie Lantz on September 22, 1923 and established a wholesale food company in Charlottetown. He joined #6 Signals Company as Lieutenant, and eventually commanded the Company before retiring in 1938 as a Lieutenant-Colonel. He re-enlisted in 1940 as a Major with 3rd Divisional Signal Regiment, and served in England and Italy, commanding the Canadian Brigade Reinforcement Unit as a Lieutenant-Colonel. After the Second World War he was appointed District Administrator, DVA, for Prince Edward Island. Mr. Conrad died on August 13, 1986.
Mr. Close describes the destruction and death at Vimy Ridge, and details his wounding and eventful return to the first aid post.
John Hamilton Close
John Hamilton Close was born in Mitchell, Ontario on July 4, 1896. After the death of both his parents, he went to work on his uncle’s farm in Garrett, Ontario. On March 15, 1916, Mr. Close enlisted with the 114th Battalion in Hagersville, Ontario. He started training immediately and was sent to Camp Borden. After going overseas to England he was quickly deployed to Le Havre. He was wounded at Vimy Ridge, rehabilitated in England, and returned to France to fight at Amiens and Arras where he won a Military Medal for bravery. Mr. Close ended his service with the rank of Corporal. He died in Hagersville, Ontario in February, 1993.
Mr. Peterson discusses the increasing independence of the Canadian Corps at Vimy, followed by his reflections on the likelihood of survival on the Front.
Robert Peterson
Robert Peterson was born in Edmonton, Alberta on January 7, 1899. He was the eldest son. His father was a paper mill worker, but enlisted at the outbreak of international hostilities in 1914. Despite being repatriated in 1915 due to being wounded, Mr. Peterson’s father did not try to discourage his son from enlisting. Robert Peterson eventually joined the 202 Sportsmans Battalion in Edmonton and describes basic training as little more than “route marching and sore feet”. Aged ninety-nine at the time of his interview, Mr. Peterson still remembers several aspects of his service overseas. He discusses Canada’s maturation as a military force at Vimy, describes being partially blinded in a gas attack, and finishes with a compelling reflection on patriotism. War is thankless.
1915 is the year the war stopped being an ‘adventure’.
What began as a war of movement and expectation hardened into something far more brutal: static trench lines, failed offensives, and a battlefield dominated by machines rather than men.
In this episode of Memory and Valour, we step into that turning point.
From the costly assaults at the Battle of Neuve Chapelle and Battle of Festubert… to the devastating lessons of the Battle of Loos, we trace how Allied strategy struggled, and often failed to keep pace with a rapidly evolving war.
These were battles marked by early promise and ultimate frustration. Gains were measured in yards. Losses were counted in thousands. And again and again, soldiers were sent forward into conditions that technology had already rendered deadly.
For the Canadian Expeditionary Force, 1915 was not a year of triumph, it was a brutal education. One that would shape how they fought, endured, and ultimately succeeded in the years that followed.
This episode explores the collapse of illusion, the rise of industrialized killing, and the human cost of a war that no longer followed the rules.
Because before there was victory… there was 1915.
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When the First World War erupted in 1914, Canada answered the call without hesitation. But among those who stepped forward were men who, under Canadian law, were not even recognized as citizens.
In this episode of Memory and Valour, we uncover the powerful and often overlooked story of Indigenous men who volunteered to serve in the Canadian Expeditionary Force. Drawn from communities across the country—from the plains of Alberta to the forests of Ontario—these soldiers fought in some of the war’s most brutal battles, including Ypres, Vimy Ridge, and Passchendaele.
They served as snipers, scouts, and front-line infantry. Many displayed extraordinary skill and courage under fire. Many never returned home.
And yet, their service existed within a profound contradiction.
John ShiwakHenry NorwestFRancis PegahmagabowFred Ogilvie Loft
At the time, Indigenous peoples in Canada lived under the restrictions of the Indian Act—denied the right to vote, limited in their freedom of movement, and treated as wards of the state. Despite this, thousands chose to enlist.
This episode does not simplify their reasons. Instead, it confronts the complexity—honouring their courage while examining the injustice that framed their service.
Because this isn’t just a story of war.
It’s a story of loyalty, identity, sacrifice—and a country still learning how to remember.
**This episode includes audio excerpts from Forgotten Warriors (1997), a documentary produced by the National Film Board of Canada. All rights reserved by the NFB. Used for educational and historical commentary purposes. We gratefully acknowledge the NFB for preserving and sharing these important historical voices.**
They were called the Barnbow Lasses: young women and girls working long hours in a munitions factory, helping to sustain the war effort far from the front lines.
On the night of December 5, 1916, that work turned deadly.
An explosion ripped through the Barnbow Munitions Factory near Leeds, killing 35 women and injuring many more. In the aftermath, the story was quickly contained; officially framed, quietly mourned, and rarely questioned.
But behind the headlines were lives interrupted, families forever changed, and truths that did not fully surface for generations.
In this episode, I speak with Antony J. Bell, author of A Penny a Shell, whose own family history is tied to the disaster through Sarah Ann Jennings. Together, we explore not just what happened at Barnbow, but how stories are passed down, reshaped, and sometimes lost.
This is not only the story of an explosion. It is the story of memory, silence… and rediscovery.
On the battlefields of Europe, nearly 4,000 Canadian soldiers were captured and marched into German prison camps. Their diaries describe starvation, forced labour, and the psychological weight of uncertainty. One POW wrote that “one moment we were fighting, the next we were herded like cattle,” while another recalled that “we were not men in that car. We were cargo.” These firsthand accounts illuminate a side of the war often overshadowed by stories of heroism at the front. But while Canadian soldiers endured captivity overseas, a very different — and far less acknowledged — system of confinement was unfolding at home.
Between 1914 and 1920, Canada operated 24 internment camps that imprisoned more than 8,500 civilians, many of them Ukrainian, German, Serbian, and other immigrants who had committed no crime. Under the sweeping powers of the War Measures Act, they were labelled “enemy aliens,” stripped of rights, and forced into labour that helped build parts of Canada’s national parks and infrastructure. As one internee later wrote, “We were not soldiers, yet we lived behind barbed wire.” This episode traces both stories — the soldiers captured in battle and the civilians imprisoned by their adopted country — revealing a complex portrait of fear, resilience, injustice, and the human cost of wartime suspicion. From escape attempts and survival strategies to family separations and the long shadows these camps left behind, Episode 19 challenges the way we remember Canada’s role in the Great War. If you’re drawn to history that goes beyond the battlefield and into the lived experiences of those caught in its wake, this is an episode that stays with you.
The Battle of Mount Sorrel was supposed to be a quiet sector. Instead, on 2 June 1916, the Canadian Corps was hit by one of the most devastating surprise bombardments of the war. Mines erupted beneath their feet, trenches vanished in seconds, and entire units were nearly wiped out as German forces surged across the shattered ridge.
This episode digs into the brutal reality of the fighting around Mount Sorrel, Tor Top (Hill 62), and Sanctuary Wood — the last high ground overlooking Ypres. We follow the chaos of the opening bombardment, the loss of senior Canadian commanders, the desperate early counterattacks, and the meticulously planned assault that finally clawed the ridge back on 13 June.
Through eyewitness accounts, battlefield analysis, and the hard numbers — more than 8,000 Canadian casualties — we uncover how this overlooked battle forged the reputation of the Canadian Corps and reshaped the fight for the Ypres Salient.
On the Western Front, the Canadian Corps had emerged from Vimy Ridge with a growing international reputation. By autumn, they were grinding forward through the mud and fire of Passchendaele. Casualties were staggering. Reinforcements were running thin.
At home, voluntary enlistment had slowed to a trickle.
Prime Minister Robert Borden faced a stark reality: if Canada was to sustain its role in the First World War, it would require compulsory service. In August 1917, the Military Service Act became law.
The response was immediate — and explosive.
English Canada, largely supportive of the war effort and tied closely to Britain, saw conscription as duty. In Quebec, where support for overseas service had always been more fragile, it was seen as betrayal. Promises had been broken. Autonomy threatened. Resentment deepened.
By Easter weekend of 1918, tensions boiled over in Quebec City. Riots erupted. Soldiers were deployed into Canadian streets. Shots were fired. Civilians were killed.
The war that had raged in France had finally fractured the country at home.
The Conscription Crisis of 1917 reshaped Canadian politics, hardened linguistic divisions, and altered the nation’s relationship with Britain and with itself. It forced Canadians to confront uncomfortable questions:
Who bears the burden of war? What is loyalty — to Empire, to province, to family? And how much strain can a young country endure before it breaks?
This episode of Memory and Valour explores not just the legislation and the politics, but the human cost of a nation divided.
Because the First World War was not only fought in trenches overseas.
It was fought in Parliament. In churches. In kitchens. And in the streets of Canada itself.
If you care about Canadian history beyond the headlines — follow Memory and Valour now on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, and Amazon Music. New episodes weekly.
Because remembrance isn’t passive. It’s participation.
By 1918, the Canadian Corps had earned a name across the Western Front: shock troops.
They were sent where the ground was worst. Where the wire was thickest. Where the objective mattered most. British command relied on them. German reports warned about them. After Vimy Ridge, Passchendaele, Amiens, and the Hundred Days, a reputation took hold: that Canadians were ruthless.
But was it myth? Was it tactical necessity? Or was it something far more complicated?
Drawing on the scholarship of Dr. Tim Cook and the words of the soldiers themselves, this episode of Memory and Valour examines how that reputation was built, and what it cost.
This is battlefield reality. This is moral reckoning. This is Canada at war.
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**content warning: this podcast episode deals with difficult subjects: War trauma, shell shock and veteran suicide. Listener discretion is advised.
Shell Shock in the Canadian Expeditionary Force (WWI) In this episode of Memory and Valour, we explore shell shock within the Canadian Expeditionary Force during the First World War — long before the condition was understood as PTSD.
As trench warfare intensified across France and Belgium, thousands of Canadian soldiers experienced tremors, paralysis, nightmares, memory loss, and emotional collapse. Military authorities debated whether shell shock was caused by exploding artillery, moral weakness, or psychological trauma. Canadian medical officers struggled to treat it effectively, while stigma and misunderstanding often followed men long after they left the front lines. Drawing on firsthand accounts, Canadian hospital records, and contemporary medical thinking, this episode examines how shell shock was experienced and treated within the CEF — and how those early responses shaped our modern understanding of operational stress injuries.
The wounds were not always visible. But they were real.
Listen on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, Amazon Music, and iHeartRadio. Full show notes and sources are available at http://www.memoryandvalour.ca�.
