Two Canadian First War War Medals

A Second War Canadian Group to Major J.E. Smith - Defence Medal; Canadian Volunteer Service Medal with Overseas Clasp; War Medal 1939-1945; Canadian Centennial Medal 1967; and Canadian Forces Decoration, QEII (MAJ J.E. SMITH). Naming is officially engraved on the CFD. Mounted to a suspension with swing bar pinback, as worn by the veteran, original ribbons, tarnishing on obverse of the DM, light contact, near extremely fine.

A Second War Efficiency Group to the Canadian Armoured Corps; Plated in Canadian fashion; 1939-1945 Star; France and Germany Star; Defence Medal; CVSM with Bar; 1939-1945 War Medal; GVI Efficiency Medal (TRP. V.F. FOUSY CAC) Naming is engraved; mounted as worn by veteran, very fine. 

A First War Medal Pair to the Canadian Railway Troops CEF - British War Medal (1099021 A. CPL. G. ALLEN. C.R.T.); and Victory Medal (1099021 A. CPL. G. ALLEN. C.R.T.). Naming is officially impressed. Unmounted, original ribbons, dark patina on the BWM, light contact, spotting on the VM, very fine.   Footnote: George Allen was born on February 13, 1873 in Hampshire, England. He signed his Attestation Paper with the 256th Infantry Battalion on January 18, 1917 in Toronto, Ontario, one month shy of his forty-fourth birthday, naming his next-of-kin as his wife, Maria Allen of Toronto, stating that he has three months' previous military service as a Private with the 3rd Battalion, Royal West Kent Regiment, that he was married and that his trade was that of Construction Foreman. The Battalion was raised in Central Ontario with mobilization headquarters at Toronto under the authority of G.O. 69, July 15, 1916. The Battalion sailed March 28, 1917 under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel W.A. McConnell with a strength of 18 officers and 531 other ranks. The Battalion served in France as the 10th Battalion, Canadian Railway Troops.

1914-15 Star (LIEUT: F.C. BIGGAR. 2/CAN:INF:); British War Medal (MAJOR. F.C. BIGGAR.); and Victory Medal (MAJOR. F.C. BIGGAR.). Naming is officially impressed. Un-mounted, semi-dark patina, original ribbons, light contact, very fine. Accompanied by a miniature group of same: Star (19.3 mm x 23.2 mm); BWM (17.8 mm); and VM (18.3 mm) on a suspension with swing bar pinback, as worn by the veteran, along with a Great War Veteran Pin (sterling silver, hallmarked, marked "STERLING" and numbered "73319" on the reverse, 16.5 mm x 22.2 mm, screwback). Also very fine.Footnote: Frederick Charles Biggar was born on November 23, 1882 in Toronto, Ontario, the son of Charles Robert Webster Biggar, Solicitor and Jane Helen Biggar (nee Mowat). His lineage is quite extensive and impressive: James Lyons Biggar (1824-1879) was a merchant at Carrying Place, Prince Edward County, Ontario, and a politician. He served in the Canadian Legislative Assembly (1861-1867) and in the House of Commons (1874-1878). His son, Charles Robert Webster Biggar, who was Frederick Charles Biggar's father, became a Lawyer and married Jane Helen Mowat, the daughter of Oliver Mowat (1820-1903), who served as Premier of Ontario (1872-1896). A second son, James Lyon Biggar (1856-1922), pursued a military career and eventually served as Director of Transport and Supplies at Military Headquarters until 1916, then as Quartermaster General, retiring in 1920. A third son, William Hodgins Biggar (1852-1922), became the Solicitor and Vice-President of the Grand Trunk Railway, as well as serving in the Ontario Legislative Assembly (1890-1898). He married Marie Louise Ballou, whose father was a partner in Tiffany and Co. of New York. A fourth son, Henry Percival Biggar (1872-1938), served as Chief Archivist for Canada in Europe (1905-1938) and published a number of books on the history of New France. A daughter, Sarah Isabel Biggar, married George Elliott Casey (1850-1903), who served in the House of Commons (1872-1900), and was the great-grandfather of Romeo LeBlanc (1927-2009), the Liberal poilitician and Governor General of Canada (1995-1999). Frederick Charles Biggar's sister, Marie Eliza Biggar, married Herbert Charles Wilson (1859-1909), who served in the North West Territories Legislative Assembly (1885-1991) and was Mayor of Edmonton (1895-1896). Charles Frederick Biggar's brother, Oliver Mowat Biggar (1876-1948), was a Lawyer who rose to become Judge Advocate General with the rank of Colonel in the Canadian Army, attended the Paris Peace Conference in 1919 as the Canadian delegation's Chief Legal Advisor, was Canada's first Chief Electoral Officer (1920-1927), and served on the Canada-United States Joint Defence Board (1940-1942). Coming from such a prominent family, Frederick Charles Biggar was educated at Upper Canada College in Toronto and entered the world of banking at the young age of 15, on July 11, 1898. Biggar was a Bank Manager in Virden, Manitoba, when he enlisted with the 32nd Infantry Battalion "Manitoba and Saskatchewan Regiment", on December 24, 1914, at the age of 32, with the rank of Lieutenant. He signed his Attestation Paper on February 15, 1915 in Winnipeg, Manitoba, naming his next-of-kin as his wife, Alice Mary Biggar of Toronto, stating that he had seven years' previous military service with the Queen's Own Rifles, two years with the 95th Saskatchewan Rifles and one year with the 16th Light Horse in Saskatchewan, that he was married and that his trade was that of Bank Manager. The Battalion was raised in Manitoba and Saskatchewan with mobilization headquarters at Winnipeg, Manitoba under the authority of G.O. 36, March 15, 1915. The Battalion sailed February 23, 1915 with a strength of 35 officers and 962 other ranks under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel H.J. Cowan. In England, the Battalion became the 32nd Reserve Battalion and subsequently was absorbed into the 15th Reserve Battalion. His wife, Alice, followed her husband to England and served with the Voluntary Aid Detachment (YAD) Corps. After six weeks, Biggar was transferred to the 2nd Infantry Battalion on May 3, 1915, and soon saw action in the French theatre, with principal actions at Festubert (May 15th to 25th) and Givenchy (June 15th). He was promoted to Captain on September 19, 1916. The following Summer, he was posted to the 13th Infantry Brigade Headquarters on August 1, 1917, where he was promoted to Staff Captain, followed by a posting in the Spring of 1918 to Canadian Headquarters at Witley on April 1st. That Fall, he was posted to the Overseas Military Forces of Canada Headquarters on October 16th, and then with the conclusion of the war, was transferred to Kinmel Park Demobilzation Camp Headquarters on December 12th. In the new year, he was promoted to Major (Deputy Assistant Adjutant-General) on January 1, 1919. Upon his return to civilian life, he returned to duty with the Bank on November 24, 1919. Biggar is documented has having reported in trench letters from the front on four occasions: the first on Thursday, June 3, 1915, between the actions at Festubert and Givenchy: "I think I didn't give you any news of leaving England and the break up of the 32nd. The Canadian casualties at Ypres were so heavy that they rushed us over at three days' notice to fill the gaps. Since arriving we have seen a fair amount of country behind the British line. We marched mostly at night, which is less inter­esting but safer and cooler, and are billeted in farms or bivouac in fields. You would be surprised how comfortable one can be with a couple of blankets lying on a tiled floor, and when it is fine out of doors it's first-rate, unless too cold. Our first spell in the trenches began a week ago last Saturday night. The one we occupied was the original British front line one during the winter, but owing to the capture of two German trenches we were some distance from the actual firing line. It was really a sand bag breastwork, not a trench, but was well constructed, and there were enough booby huts and dugouts to give us all sleeping accommodation. A booby hut is a low sort of dog kennel with roof and walls made of sandbags, and a dugout is much the same but dug down instead of built up. They afford fair protection from shell splinters or shrapnel, but of course can't keep out shells, if hit. After six days of this they moved us to another part of the line two or three miles away. The change was made at night, as usual, and it was rather a weird feeling travelling along in single file over breastworks, across ditches, through barbed wire entanglements, the whole more or less lighted by the moon and the vast number of star shells thrown up by the Germans. These latter are rather like big Roman candle balls and light a very large extent of ground, while they are much better than those issued to the British. Every now and then you would hear the whiz of a bullet overhead, but these were just strays and not aimed at us, though if they hit they hurt just as much. We had one very close call while digging a communication trench between our own and No. 4's. A fair sized shell struck the edge of the trench fairly while it was filled with our men at only a yard distance from each other. Had it burst in the air instead of on the ground it would probably have bagged a dozen or more, but as it was, it killed only one and slightly wounded another. I was about twenty feet away but hearing the whistle in the air I dropped to my knees, but I could feel the suction and concussion of the air when the explosion came. Afterwards I was told by the man nearest to the place that half a minute before I had been standing on the exact spot where the shell struck, and if my subconscious intuition continues to serve me as well in future I shall come home scatheless. We are now back in billets for a few days' rest, and one realizes that there has been a strain from the reaction which leaves us all a little irritable and nervous, as you may judge from this scrawl. It will be years before the section now being fought over regains a normal look, but where we are, within six miles of the line, there are no signs of war, the fields are under crop, the houses in good repair, and the people living apparently a quiet, peaceful life. The change in coming from the trenches seems odd but very pleasant."; the second on Saturday, July 24, 1915: "Please excuse the pencil, but ink will be a very scarce article until we go back to billets next time. A bottle is such a dangerous thing to pack in one's knapsack that as a rule we fill our fountain pens and keep them for addressing envelopes or writing important field messages. Since I wrote you last we have been following the regular routine, so many days in the trenches and then so many in billets, but in between trench spells we have moved about and each time have occupied a new part of the line. We have not as yet had to repel a German attack (Givenchy on June 15, 1915) nor have we been directly mixed up in one of our own, though we were called on to support one made by the battalion on our left. This was distinctly our warmest proposition since I joined, for there was a three day bombardment by both sides, culminating in three hours of tremendous firing that was absolutely deafening and the explosion of an immense mine dug by our engineers under the German trench. That sort of warfare is most trying, and it is hard to keep from being restless when it is possible the Boches are boring under your line and you may be sent sky high any moment. Since then we have had quiet lines with only casual daily shell fire, but even in these, sniping both day and night is steady, and thoughtless exposure is paid for. Just now we are in an ideal spot, reserve trenches scattered through the woods on a big Belgium estate (Chateau la Hutte near Ploegsteert). This is said to be the summer home of King Albert, and the Chateau must have been a fine one with a garden all around it, a big conservatory and an artificial stream, with waterfalls, running through it. Now the chateau and conservatory are a mass of ruins, for the Germans have shelled them again and again. The wood is quite thick with underbrush and huge trees, for in this country they seem to have practiced reforestation and conservation for a good many years. Through this run innumerable bridle paths and it is quite easy to get lost. There is little game to be seen now, but they say that the troops here last winter lived on pheasants.We wonder when the great British offensive is going to begin, for unless we or the Germans start something soon on a large scale, the war may drag on for another year, while a winter campaign seems almost a certainty. This is not a very pleasant prospect to any of us. The authorities have now begun to grant leave but it is on a very small scale. Five men and one officer per battalion are granted six days' leave each week. On that basis as a junior officer my turn won't come till November, I expect. We were inspected a week ago by Sir John French and got a good look at that great soldier. While on our way to these trenches we marched past Sir Robert Borden. Canada is doing well in supplying men, but if they put two divisions in the field it will be a great drain to supply reinforcements. Here's to a banner year for Western crops. I hear the latest reports are still good and that those frosts haven't done serious damage. The crops here are excellent and open the eyes of Manitoba and Saskatchewan men. Almost every foot of land behind the lines is under crop and the yields should run about 45 or 50 bushels of wheat to the acre and about 80 bushels to the acre for oats. Of course a lot of fertilizer is used and the farming is most intensive. To-day the Germans opposite us hoisted a sign on their trench with the news that they have captured Warsaw with 100,000 prisoners. No hint of this has yet come to us, and we hope it is a Wolff agency report, for it means a serious blow to the Russians and the release of 1,000,000 Germans to operate on this front, if true."; the third on Sunday, November 28, 1915: "It is a very long time since my last letter to you, but many things have interfered. For nearly two months our Company was extremely short of officers, and this meant very heavy duties for those we had; and afterwards, when we filled up our establishment, I was acting as second in command, and this kept my nose pretty close to the grindstone. The interval has not been very full of incident. We worked away on our section of the line digging trenches, both firing and communication, until we were told that we had made it one of the strongest bits of the British line. We were still there, though, at the time, back in Divisional Reserve billets, when the big Loos attack came off. For several days we would hear the continuous roar of guns, both from there on our right and from Ypres on our left. We slept with one eye open, for we knew we might be called to move at any time, and, indeed, we fell in one morning about 5 a.m., at 15 minutes' notice, all ready to move off, but found this was only a test, and we were dismissed. When we got to the new place (Wulverghem, Belgium), we found it consisted of a single line of trenches, really two, but so close together that they were no better than one. Besides they were only from 50 to 100 yards from the enemy who kept one from brooding by throwing over grenades and trench mortar bombs. Our first turn there was rather costly because we could not get bombs to retaliate, but when our supply did arrive we threw three for every one of theirs and they soon tired. About this time the second in command was made adjutant and the sub senior to me being away taking a course, I acted in that position. We moved to the new sector about the beginning of October and very soon after the wet weather began. The soil is very light and as no revetting had been done by our predecessors, some territorial battalion, we began to have caves-in daily. Dugouts, parapets, parados and traverses came tumbling down, stopping drainage and making our trench alternate lakes of knee deep water and hillocks of mud, which almost dragged one's boots off. Our men worked like Trojans and kept a fairly clear way to move until one night's downpour lasting an hour, during which fourteen bays out of the twenty-two which our Company held, caved in. Making rounds that night on duty was an experience, for it was pitch black and one was alternately walking almost at the height of the parapet and then down on the trench level, while the communication trenches were so hopelessly blocked that the only thing to do was to get back to the support line on the surface. In the support trenches the water rose to from one to three feet in depth and all the dugouts were flooded, so that eventually we had to move out of it altogether. Too much cannot be said for the men who, in spite of twelve to fourteen hours' sentry go and work during the day, wet beds (when they can turn in) and wet clothes all the time, are always cheerful and willing—a finer lot it would be impossible to find. About two weeks ago Major Mills, our Quartermaster, was called back to Canada to take command of a new battalion, and I was appointed in his place, so that for the present my days of living in a dugout are over. It seems peculiar to be so far back, but the Transport Officer and I ride up nightly with the rations, so keep to a certain extent in touch. During the winter, arrangements have been made to relieve each brigade for a fortnight and allow them to go back to rest billets. I understand our turn comes just before Christmas, so we will be able to spend the festal season a long way from the sounds of war. Did I tell you that at one G.O.C. inspection here, when he reached me he said 'You have a platoon of fine big men. Where do they mostly come from?' I threw my chest out another couple of inches and said, 'All from Western Canada, sir.' In spite of the black, or at least drab outlook in Serbia, I think everyone over here is feeling optimistic, and that we have now got the campaign in hand both in men and munitions. It will no doubt, take at least six months to finish it, but the end is certain. We are all fed up with war, but will only quit on our own terms."; and the fourth on Wednesday, December 8, 1915: "I think that when I wrote I expected to go on leave in about ten days, but when we heard the continuous roar of guns at Loos on our right and Ypres on our left we were satisfied that the long promised offensive had begun, and we expected at any time to hear that all leave was cancelled. At last after many hopes and fears the day arrived and off I went to 'Blighty.' We crowded a good deal of business, a good deal of sightseeing and a lot of theatres into so short a holiday, and had a glorious time, and the morning after I left, Alice (his wife) at Canadian Hospital, Shorncliffe. She has found the work hard, but interesting, and now that she is in joint charge of the diet kitchen, she thinks it will be even nicer, while the work in the wards is, of course, her final aim. began her duties as V.A.D. in the Queen's. When I got back to the battalion, I found we were about to move from our old sector. No one was very pleased over the prospect, for it was strong and well built (by ourselves) and felt more or less like home. When we got to the new trenches we were even less pleased, for they were badly built, and were from about 50 to 125 yards from the Germans' lines, who made things interesting by throwing rifle grenades, trench mortar bombs, etc., and keeping up a fairly heavy fire. As for some time we could not get grenades to reply to them, it was not all beer and skittles. About a week after we got there, we took part in that feint attack which some one christened 'ten miles of smudges.' This consisted of our artillery pounding away for a couple of hours, and then suddenly stopping. As soon as the lull came, all along the British front smoke bombs were thrown which sent clouds rolling towards the German lines. They mistook it for gas, and stood-to expecting an attack, but our artillery again opened, and we hope, bagged lots of them. It was quite exciting, for we hadn't every­thing our own way, and their guns did their best to retaliate. Three weeks ago, much to my surprise, I was asked to take over the Quartermaster's work, as Major Mills, who had held the appointment, had been given the command of a battalion now being raised in Canada. The work is entirely new to me, and to a certain extent a routine post, but it has some advantages attached. One is a horse of my own, and a good deal of official riding to do, going about to inspect billets when they are taken or handed over, and going to the trenches each night that the battalion is in, to report to the C.O. and get his instructions. One feels like a deserter leaving one's pals to bear the hard­ships of trench life, while one lives well back from the line in a comfortable billet, but someone must do the work, and I did not seek it myself."