PRIVATE J. G. PATTISON, 50TH BATTALION

During the morning of April 10th, 1917, the 44th and 50th Battalions were instructed to capture and consolidate, as an outpost line, the Eastern edge of Vimy Ridge lying beyond Hill 145. The men of the 10th Brigade had been in reserve while their comrades swept over Vimy on the previous day and were anxious to get in some good work with the rest of the Corps. There is no doubt that they succeeded.

The men of the 50th made their way to Beer Trench, and at zero hour, 3.15 p.m., went forward with a rush. Opposition was immediate and severe. From every broken tree and battered piece of cover machine-gun fire swept the attack, and casualties were extremely heavy; but the men continued to push forward.

On the right "C" Company attacked, with "D" Company in close support; on the left "A" Company, with "B" Company in support. The leading companies found the "going" extremely hard, but for a time all went well, and though the advance was slow, steady progress was made.

As the incessant fire thinned the waves of attacking troops, greater difficulty was encountered in enveloping the machine-gun nests that barred our progress. In the first stage of an attack made by determined troops the resistance close at hand is easily swamped; but as the men continue to push forward the innumerable obstructions and perils of the battlefield gather against their weakening impact, fatigue slows them, their front is broken and their connecting files are shot down; and so a steady enveloping movement becomes a series of bitterly contested little battles, where small parties in twos and threes fight strategic engagements with isolated strong points of the enemy. Finally a series of partial checks culminates in an abrupt cessation of the advance—and a gathering company finds itself held up before an embattled fortification whose point of vantage covers the whole local zone of attack.

Then the real trouble begins. Time and again in the history of the war one hostile fortification left in otherwise captured territory has changed or materially affected the final issue of the engagement. It may serve as a rallying-point for a determined counter-attack, or by its wide zones of fire hamper the advance of reinforcements on the flanks, or prevent the supply of vital munitions to a new and precarious front line; its effectiveness is limited only by its natural position, and as this has been selected with care and forethought by an efficient enemy, one small but actively hostile strong-point may prove a very capable thorn in the side of a harassed general.

On that April afternoon the 50th Battalion encountered just such a check. It was on the left of the battalion attacking zone, and the men of "A" Company, gradually gathering in the nearest cover, had organized and carried out several gallant attempts to rush the position. Each time they had been beaten back with heavy losses.

Now "B" Company arrived to reinforce the assault. Another attack was organized, with no more success than the last; and then, as so often occurs, a critical situation was relieved by the clearheaded bravery of a single soldier.

Private Pattison, an engineer from Calgary, proceeded to deal with the situation. He advanced single-handed towards the machine-gun post in a series of short rapid dashes, taking cover on the way in available shell-holes while deciding his next point of vantage. In a few moments he had reached a shell-hole within thirty yards of the vital strong-point. He stood up in full view of the machine-gunners and under their point-blank fire threw three bombs with such good aim that the guns were put out of action and the crews temporarily demoralized. This was Pattison's opportunity, and he took it without hesitation. As his last bomb exploded amidst the Germans he rushed across the intervening space and in a moment was using his bayonet upon the unhappy enemy. He had killed them all before his companions had caught him up.

Twenty minutes later all objectives were gained and the Canadians busy consolidating the captured line. Pattison came unscathed through the day's fighting, and through the successful attack on the Pimple on the following day; but he never wore his V.C., though he was aware that he had been recommended for the honour. He was killed on June 2nd in the attack upon the Generating Station.

Very few men of Pattison's age now reach the honour of the Victoria Cross, as this war has set almost too high a standard for their physical activity. Pattison was 42 years old—a smart soldier and a good fellow. His son, a young soldier in his father's battalion, wears the ribbon upon his right breast, and probably will wear it on his left side too, before this war is over.