At Passchendaele this teenager became the youngest Canadian VC recipient
In the mud, shell holes and wire of Passchendaele, a daring Canadian soldier, having lied about his age, faced relentless enemy fire to singlehandedly clear a pillbox, becoming the country’s youngest VC recipient
“SUDDENLY THERE CAME A MOMENT WHEN BOTH GUNS CEASED SIMULTANEOUSLY. IT MEANT BOTH CREWS WERE RELOADING AT THE SAME MOMENT. BY NOW HOLMES WAS WITHIN BOMBING DISTANCE. HE PULLED THE PIN OF THE GRENADE AND HURLED IT…”
Lieutenant-colonel GF Mcfarland
Thomas William Holmes braved another glance from the relative safety of his cover. He saw the boggy mud surrounding his shell hole, the rain pelting down to turn the ridge to sludge, and the Germans on either side of the pillbox, who, having seen him, twisted their machine guns to fire a burst in his direction. He ducked in time, but only just. The bullets flew over his head as he lay prone once more, the boys from the 4th Canadian Mounted Rifles (4th CMR) around him all wearing the same forlorn expression, not one knowing what to do. Holmes exhaled, his usual boyish grin nowhere to be seen, and decided for them. Grabbing two Mills bombs, he waited for the guns to go momentarily quiet, then, with one last exhale, he clambered out and ran.
The day was October 26, 1917, and Canadian Corps Commander Lieutenantgeneral Sir Arthur Currie, against his wishes but overruled by Sir Douglas Haig, had launched an attack to dislodge the Germans from the area surrounding the Belgian village of Passchendaele. The Australians and
New Zealanders had come before them, suffering tremendous losses to the wellentrenched enemy. Now it was up to the Canadian 4th Division to advance south of the flooded Ravebeek valley while the 3rd Division, including Holmes and his unit, led the northern assault on the Bellevue and Wallemollen spurs. Since 5:40am that morning, all had gone well enough. With the 4th CMR’S C and D companies in front and A and B companies in close support, they had made excellent headway overcoming the first belt of blockhouses. But the Canadians had been checked northeast of the Wolf Copse objective. The hopes of much of the battle appeared to rest on the shoulders of one young man, scarcely older than a boy, as he charged forward. Except, arguably, he shouldn’t even have been there.
Holmes was from Owen Sound, Grey County, Ontario, and was a sturdy, stocky lad who, though somewhat short in stature at 166cm, made up for it in strength of body and heart. He was known for his mischievousness and good sense of humour, seldom failing to make those around him smile. By 17, he had already been recognised for his initiative, a trait that would ultimately serve him well when, on 20 December, 1915, he enlisted as a private soldier in the 147th (Grey) Battalion of the Canadian Expeditionary Force while claiming to be 18 years old. His training took place at Camps Niagara and Borden before departing for Halifax, Nova Scotia. However, embarkation was delayed due to a diphtheria outbreak, leading to a brief stint in nearby Amherst before finally sailing aboard Titanic’s famous sister ship, Olympic, bound for England. It was here that his unit was disbanded to supply reinforcements, with Tommy ending up in the 4th CMR ahead of its deployment to Vimy Ridge.
His first taste of action was not a lengthy affair. Within days of arriving at the nownotorious battle – often regarded in Canada as the nation’s baptism of fire – he was wounded in the left arm and evacuated to England.
There he met his older brother Roy, who had enlisted earlier in the 58th Battalion, CEF, after which he, too, had been wounded, losing an eye. Holmes recovered enough to re-join his unit in October 1917, in time for the campaign that would define his wartime legacy and earn him the respect of his comrades. He, along with his fellow Canadians, was about to go into action at Passchendaele.
Rushing the enemy
The German machine gun crews readied their weapons hastily as, to their horror, Holmes hurtled towards them with grenades at the ready. By the time the guns had been loaded, he had disappeared into a shell hole some yards ahead of his company. Moments later, he reappeared and rushed onwards before dashing into yet another crater. The bullets followed him. Then he waited, listening out for the short lulls of a few seconds as the guns were reloaded. Luck turned out to be on his side when both weapons ceased simultaneously. A fellow soldier saw what happened next: “Before those around him realised what he was about to do, he rushed forward and tossed a bomb so accurately… that [the crews] and their guns were put out of action. He then returned to his companions for more bombs… dashed forward, this time going directly up to the pillbox, and threw his bomb into the entrance, where it exploded…”
Holmes had twice rushed the enemy position to silence the three emplacements bearing down on his unit. Moments later a total of 19 pillbox occupants surrendered. In a letter written to his family, Holmes said: “Fritzes [Germans] young and old, fat and thin came out with their hands up in the air… Fritz does not like the Canadians. The Canadians have won a name they will never lose.” Nor would he be the only countryman to receive such renown on that grim October day. By nightfall, three soldiers had performed their duties so extraordinarily that they would be recommended for the Victoria Cross. These were Winnipeg native Christopher Patrick John O’kelly, Scottish-canadian Robert Shankland and a certain plucky youngster of the 4th
CMR. Holmes’ official citation reads: “By this act of valour at a very critical moment Pte. Holmes undoubtedly cleared the way for the advance of our troops and saved the lives of many of his comrades.”
On 31 December, 1918, Holmes became Canada’s then-youngest VC winner when King George V presented him with the medal. Later asked about the experience, Holmes reportedly noted that the king was “charmingly informal” but claimed that the only truly courageous thing he had done was go to Buckingham Palace. More courageous still, perhaps, was his confession to the king of England that he had lied about his age to join the army, despite being old enough by the time he performed his heroic act at Passchendaele. Holmes ended the war as a sergeant and would remain in Britain for a few more months before sailing home in the spring of 1919. He received a hero’s welcome upon arriving back in Owen Sound on 14 April of that year, sharing the acclaim with fellow resident and VC recipient William Avery ‘Billy’ Bishop.
In 1921, Holmes married Annie Middaugh, with whom he had two children – Roy and June. He eventually moved to Toronto and worked for the Harbour Commission for several years, first as a truck driver then as a chauffeur, with summer stints as a boat pilot. However, his fighting days were not yet over.
“BEFORE THOSE AROUND HIM REALISED WHAT HE WAS ABOUT TO DO, HE RUSHED FORWARD AND TOSSED A BOMB SO ACCURATELY INTO THE TRENCH OF THE MACHINEGUN CREW THAT THEY AND THEIR GUN WERE PUT OUT OF ACTION” Holmes’ comrade and unit historian
Holmes’ next battle was a struggle against tuberculosis, which he had contracted during his time in the trenches. He would win. Then, in 1935, his home was burgled and his Victoria Cross stolen. It was never recovered – the king instead sent a replacement.
Just one year later, in 1936, Holmes made headlines again when he saved the lives of three people whose auxiliary cabin boat had capsized, though, tragically, he was unable to save a fourth person, who drowned. He himself had a brush with death in 1942 after the motorboat he was aboard exploded, leaving him with severe burns and other injuries. Poor health caused by an already years-long fight against cancer forced him to retire. This fight he would lose, and he died on 4 January, 1950, aged 51.
Having been buried with full military honours, Holmes’ legacy lives on. A plaque dedicated to his life and service, unveiled by his sister Annie King in the late 1950s, today stands across from the Owen Sound Public Library, while the Grey and Simcoe Foresters, which perpetuates the 147th (Grey) Battalion, has named its armoury after him. Every Remembrance Day, the unit fires a volley over his grave, which is located a short distance away from the late Billy Bishop and Second World War VC winner Major David Vivian Currie. Holmes’ daughter June donated his medal to the Royal Canadian Legion
Branch in Owen Sound. In August 1978, it, like the original, was stolen but thankfully recovered – minus the ribbon – and returned to its rightful place. It is now on display to help tell his remarkable story. Also well-suited to recount his tale is George Auer, an Owen Sound military historian and award-winning author of The Day the Ravebeek Ran Grey, who has this to say of the man: “As the Canadian Expeditionary Force’s youngest recipient of the Victoria Cross, Tommy Holmes is evidence that the realities of war are often masked by the innocence of youth.”