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Updated: June 28, 2025
The fried-potato-seller's van had exuded an appetising odour of cooking, and had gathered round it crowds of marines in tam-o'-shanters with red woollen balls in the centre, Turcos in great bloomers, and the always-hungry French and Belgian troopers. Now all was changed. The square had become a village filled with canvas houses, the striped red-and-white booths of the market people.
The honor of holding the dangerous angle of the great salient at Ypres had fallen to the lot of the Canadians. The Red Watch held the danger point, the toe. It was our duty to hang on and die to the last man until help came and the French line was reconstituted as it was when the French Turcos broke before the deadly gas. Like typical Highlanders we were the "Forlorn Hopes" of the Empire.
With the fortified town of Dunkirk or Dunkerque came the real congestion of war. The large square of the town was filled with soldiers and marines. Here again were British uniforms, British transports and ambulances. As a seaport for the Allied Armies in the north, it was bustling with activity. The French and Belgians predominated, with a sprinkling of Spahis on horseback and Turcos.
The Turcos and East Indians were employed by the British in this section and were as much dreaded by the civilians as the enemy. Uncle John noticed that military discipline was not so strict in Dunkirk as at Ostend; but the Germans had but one people to control while the French town was host to many nations and races.
To the left of the Eighth Battalion, which was the extreme Canadian left wing, there were Zouaves and Turcos. These were black French Colonials. To these unfortunates, probably the Canadians owe their near disaster. In the far distance we saw a cloud rise as though from the earth. It was a greeny-red color, and increased in volume as it rolled forward.
When the priest drew close to the tent Domini saw that it was not he who carried the lantern, but a native soldier, one of the Tirailleurs, formerly called Turcos, who walked beside him. The soldier saluted her, and the priest took off his broad, fluffy black hat. "Good-evening, Madame," he said, speaking French with the accent of Marseilles.
Also, there were three Turcos from Northern Africa, almost as dark as negroes, wearing red fezzes and soiled white, baggy, skirtlike arrangements instead of trousers. They all looked very dirty, very unhappy and very sleepy.
Divisions, brigades, regiments, and companies were mingled in one motley mass. But the enemy was retreating; a heavy force of artillery was close at hand, and the infantry must have numbered at least 10,000 rifles. Suddenly three battalions of Turcos, numbering no more than 1500 bayonets, charged with wild cries, and without firing, down the grassy slope.
At Chantilly, seven kilometers away, the amazed inhabitants saw a great column of black smoke curl up into the air; they guessed the horrible truth. Senlis was burning. "The work, however, was interrupted. At midday the glad tidings were heard, 'The Turcos are here. Within the hour broken and blazing Senlis was re-relieved and rescued. The Turcos pursued and severely punished the enemy.
During the morning the Germans thrust a force into the southern angle of the Sambre and Meuse. Here the Belgian infantry offered a vigorous resistance. It was hoped that the French at Dinant would hasten to their relief. But Dinant was for the second time within a few days the scene of conflict. Some 6,000 French Turcos and artillery did arrive, but too late to be of use in helping to save Namur.
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