It Made You Think of Home: The Haunted Journal of Deward Barnes, Canadian Expeditionary Force, 1916-1919 (review)

Deward Barnes was a twenty-eight-year-old apprentice machinist in Toronto when he enlisted in the Canadian Expeditionary Force in February 1916. He served at the front with Toronto's 19th Battalion, from just after Vimy Ridge in April 1917 until 11 October 1918, when a slight wound took him out of the war until it ended. During these eighteen months, however, he participated in every major action undertaken by the Canadian Corps, and was either in or near 'harm's way' for most of that time. Throughout, he made entries almost daily in a pocket diary and also maintained an extensive correspondence with friends and relatives back home. Indeed, one suspects that he spent most of his spare time writing. Unfortunately, out of this large body of material, only one volume of the original diary survives. Most of this well-produced book derives from a transcription that Deward made in the 1920s, which, it must be said, includes a certain element of memoir.

Accounts from the lower ranks of the First World War Canadian military have been appearing with some frequency of late, and they constitute a most welcome addition to the literature of the war. Now, more so than previously, we have the point of view of those who, carrying out the orders of others, did the bulk of the actual fighting. These accounts vary, but generally one tends to detect in them a more phlegmatic, 'let's get on with the job' tone, than in the writings of the officer class, which tend to be more literary. Also notable in many is a sense of purposefulness, or a belief that they were fighting for a worthwhile cause. They by no means subscribe to the view of the war as hopeless suffering and meaningless slaughter put forward by such writers as Erich Maria Remarque or by war poets such as Siegfried Sassoon and Wilfred Owen. These came into prominence in the 1930s and, to a large degree, still define the view of the war that prevails in the popular imagination.

Barnes's diary adheres to the norm in that it is laconic to a fault. His diary entries are terse and succinct, do not discuss motivation, and never venture into the realm of introspection. (Perhaps that was reserved for his letters.) Of his participation in a firing squad that executed a fellow soldier, he states simply, 'It was a job I did not want.' Yet, if understated, Deward's diary cumulatively constitutes a searing account of one Canadian's experiences of the front line. His view of the war as akin to Dante's Inferno tends more towards the emphases of the 1930s than do many accounts by ordinary soldiers. It is aptly conveyed by an entry for 3 June 1918: 'Shell came over, blew one man's leg off. I can't think who it was. Had bully and tea.' Also typical of these accounts is Deward's disdain for high command. The corps commander, Sir Arthur Currie, 'did not appear as a soldier, big fat and flabby – his belt way up on his stomach.' In addition, there are numerous references, particularly in the Battle of Amiens of 8 August 1918, to the killing of prisoners. One of his colleagues, Deward reports, 'wanted to say for sure that he killed a German and so he shot a prisoner point blank. It worried him later.'

The editing and publication of this diary has obviously been a labour of love for Bruce Cane, and he is to be congratulated on the results. The diary entries are set off nicely in bold script, followed, usually, by extensive explicatory annotations by Cane. Although sometimes overzealous (as in a lengthy disquisition on the origin of the term 'swinging the lead,' which had nothing to do with the war), they are generally well-informed and helpful. One might wish he had been able to...