From the high ground we advanced through a wheat field, but here, in daytime, we ran into great rifle and machine gun fire. Lt. McKinley was killed. Two tanks assigned to my Company arrived in the field and the Germans arose in the wheat and beat it, only to be overtaken, shot and crushed by the tanks. We next came into an open pasture field and the Germans could be seen trying to get across it, followed by our tanks and a troop (25) of our Cavalry. Very few Germans escaped, but on the other hand, the Cavalry were too near the Hun guns on the far side of the field and they were nearly wiped out-the horses too easy for the machine guns. The tanks were hit in the pasture and put out of action. Lt. J.R. MacDonald of 2 Company called on me in the pasture and a few minutes later got a bullet in the head, which he still carries.
We took our objective-the high ground near Caix at 12 noon, and after being leapfrogged by fresh troops we moved back near the wheat field (Sunken Road). And that night buried in one grave 8 of our lads including Sgt. Peers.”
Except for some lulls in the fighting Franklin’s active service in the heat of raging enemy fire continued until he was wounded on September 27th, 1918 at the Battle of Canal du Nord, September 27-October 1, on the outskirts of Cambrai. Showing conspicuous bravery and paying slight attention to his own safety he took a chance that could have resulted in instant death. He describes how he got wounded. “I, along with a scout, and a Lewis Gunner reached a sunken road 2 feet deep about 75 yards from the embankment. The going was tough. Two men, carrying Lewis Gun ammunition, tried to reach us but were wounded. We had the gun, but it was empty. Our men could not move because of intense fire. I decided to try for the ammunition myself. I reached it, had the padyard (6 magazines in a canvas holder) in my left hand and was running to the gun when a bullet got me in the left wrist, breaking my watch also. I, of course let the ammunition fall, reached to the ground for what was left of my watch, and ran as fast as possible to the gun and sunken room which gave some protection. A tourniquet was tied on my arm to stop the blood.”
John Franklin was mentioned in despatches for his overall leadership that day. His painful wound required immediate medical attention, thus ending his active service. He eventually returned to London by ship on a stretcher and was taken by ambulance to the London General Hospital where he remained for one month. Shortly thereafter the wound had healed over completely, but he still required medical attention.
In March, 1919, the war now over, Franklin left for Canada, sailing from Liverpool, England. Shortly before departing, he reflected on his amazing experience. “I should say here now that I was about to leave for home, that the war had a good influence on me. I neither used liquor or tobacco, possibly due to a strong willpower or the good type of comrades I made and associated with. The whole affair – fighting, schools, commanding a company, knowing men, being fearless – was in itself a good education which such experience could only give. It taught me many things: good character, to regard all men as equal, forgetting race or creed. We saw them eat, sleep, train, fight and die together. Fear never entered my mind at any time. I felt equal to anyone in my duties. At times, in action, I prayed even on the run, in dangerous spots, for the safety of my men and myself for we knew from experience that in every attack about one half of our men would be killed or wounded. I could have been among those who slept over there.”
In many ways, John Franklin could hardly believe his amazing good luck. In a relatively short space of time he went from being a farm boy dreaming of someday becoming a soldier to experiencing first-hand the horrors of war in the pivotal battle of the Great War, serving for sixteen months of active duty until he was wounded at Canal du Nord, then being honoured by the King himself. Much later, Franklin recalled that exciting day in Buckingham Palace. “The King actually shook hands with me and placed the decoration on my breast. He was in army uniform, and a large staff stood immediately in his rear.”
He didn’t plan his life this way. It just happened, although it must be said that he did everything within his power to ensure that he would serve on the front lines, even to voluntarily taking a demotion from captain to lieutenant when cooling his heels in England waiting to go to France in 1917. In his brief time as captain, leading his company of soldiers, he took enormous risks, but seemed to be invincible until a sniper took bead on him shooting him through the wrist. But the finger of fate was not yet finished with him, as his future held more unusual surprises for him.
After returning to Canada he decided that farm life was not for him and so he obtained a job with the Civil Service in Ottawa, but kept up his close connection with the military. From 1930-34 he rose in rank to become Commanding Officer of his old Regiment, The Stormont, Dundas, and Glengarry Highlanders. When World War 2 was declared he briefly took command of the 1st Battalion, Stormont, Dundas, and Glengarry Highlanders, but had to relinquish it due to health problems with fairly severe varicose veins.
During his long, distinguished military career he was also awarded the VD medal (Colonial Forces’ Decoration) for 20 years of meritorious service) and the CD medal (Canadian Forces’ Decoration) for 12 years’ service.
In 1945, Prime Minister Mackenzie King’s government appointed him Sergeant-at-Arms, Canadian House of Commons, where he served for 15 years. In this highly prestigious, mainly ceremonial position, he was the senior official in the Canadian House of Commons, responsible for certain administrative, custodial and security functions as well as for carrying the mace, symbol of authority, daily into chamber of the House when the government is sitting.
In 1976, after a long, eventful life, Lt. Col. William John Franklin, MC, VD, CD, died in Ottawa at the age of 83. He was my mother’s first cousin.
NOTE:
I received a copy of Lt. Col. John Franklin’s personal notes from his niece, Jean Franklin Harms (my relative) who lives in Hamilton, ON, Canada.
