Over the Canadian Battlefields Notes of a Little Journey in France, in March, 1919 — Inside the Classic

A Journalist’s Hurried Lens

Dafoe makes no secret of his constraints. He traveled in March 1919, “hurriedly and under weather conditions which were far” from ideal—the sentence breaks off in the excerpt, but the implication is clear. The book’s structure mirrors a reporter’s notebook: chapters with direct titles like “The Abomination of Desolation” and “The Marks of War.” Dafoe’s voice is brisk and factual, yet he occasionally slips into the rhetorical cadences of newspaper prose, as when he describes the Canadian advance at Amiens as “a daring and successful stroke well worth the telling.” The reader should expect a text that moves quickly, prioritizes specific actions over atmosphere, and never pretends to be a definitive military study.

The Amiens Battlefield as a Case Study

The longest continuous excerpt in the provided material details the Canadian attack at Amiens on August 8, 1918. Dafoe emphasizes the secrecy of the troop movement: the Canadians were hidden in a “large semi-open wood” and moved forward at night with guides over unfamiliar ground. He notes the initial front of 7,000 yards between the Amiens-Roye road and the Amiens-Ham railway, with Australians on the left and French on the right. The 9th Brigade’s capture of Rifle Wood from the right of the road is singled out as a key maneuver. Dafoe also records that the terrain “shows the least signs of conflict” due to the rapid German retirement, a detail that contrasts with other battlefields he visited. This section reads like a dispatch, with precise geography and tactical notes, but Dafoe does not linger on personal emotion.

The Civilian Commander and the Civilian Army

The book’s dedication to General Sir Arthur Currie, “the civilian commander of the conquering Canadian civilian army,” signals a recurring theme: the Canadian Corps as an extension of civilian society. Dafoe, himself a civilian journalist, was granted access by Currie, and the text often highlights the ordinary origins of the soldiers. In the Amiens account, he remarks that German commanders expected troops “experienced only in trench fighting” to falter in open warfare, a “catastrophic disappointment.” The phrase “civilian army” appears in the dedication and chapter titles, suggesting Dafoe saw the Canadians’ adaptability as a defining trait. The reader should watch for how Dafoe balances tactical reporting with this broader claim about national character.

The Marks of War and the Limits of the Record

Dafoe’s chapter “The Marks of War” is not excerpted, but its title hints at his method: he reads the landscape for evidence of conflict. In the Amiens section, he notes that the battlefield is visible from the highway and that a “competent guide” could easily tell the story. Yet the excerpts also reveal gaps. Dafoe mentions that he could not visit Flanders, and the text breaks off mid-sentence in the Amiens account. The book is a fragment of a larger tour, and Dafoe acknowledges its “evanescent timeliness.” Readers should treat the work as a primary source—a contemporary snapshot by a well-connected observer—rather than a comprehensive history. The author’s own admission that the articles were “not considered advisable… to re-cast” into permanent form underscores their provisional nature.

Dafoe’s little book is best approached as a period piece: a newspaperman’s quick sketch of battlefields still raw from war. Its value lies in its immediacy and its focus on the Canadian Corps’ 1918 offensives, particularly at Amiens. Readers interested in tactical detail or the perspective of a civilian observer will find it rewarding; those seeking a full narrative of the war should look elsewhere. The text invites us to see the ground through Dafoe’s eyes, even as he hurries past.

Reading Dafoe’s hurried notes from that grey March, I kept thinking how strange it is to walk a landscape where every hollow once held thunder. His quiet, factual jottings left me with a similar ache I once found in the Memoirs of Service Afloat, During the War Between the States — Inside the Classic, where even the calmest log entries carry the weight of what was lost. Some memories are simply carved into the soil, or the water.