Victor Gordon Tupper, MC: His Biography and Letters

From Reginald H. Tupper’s Victor Gordon Tupper: A Brother’s Tribute

This privately published account of his brother’s wartime experiences includes letters and excerpts from letters written by Gordon to their mother, Lady Janet Tupper.

Victor Gordon Tupper was the fourth son and youngest of six children born to Sir Charles Hibbert, and Lady Janet Tupper. Born February 4, 1896, in Ottawa, his Godmother was Lady Aberdeen, wife of Lord Aberdeen, Canada’s then Governor General; he was named Gordon after the Aberdeen family name.

His father was the Justice Minister and Solicitor General in a succession of Tory governments including the brief period his grandfather, Sir Charles Tupper, was Prime Minister.

(His first name, Victor, was given to commemorate the fact that his grandfather was returned to parliament on the day of his birth.)

After the defeat of the Conservative Party in 1896, his family moved to BC and eventually settled in Vancouver.

He was educated at University School in Victoria and at Highland in Hamilton. He was a dynamic, adventurous young man whose interests were mainly in the outdoors: hiking and fishing; at school he excelled in football (rugby) and marksmanship.

As his brother, Reggie, put it in his tribute: “His happiness lay in action, and wherever daring entered the contest, he was pre-eminent.”

He volunteered for service immediately war was declared, August 1914, and enlisted in the Seaforth Highlanders of Canada, No. 3 Company, as a private.

The Seaforths with other regiments were later drafted together into the 16th Battalion, Scottish.

His Company Commander was his brother-in-law, Captain Cecil M. Merritt, who was killed in action at Ypres, early on in the war, and whose own son (Gordon’s nephew), Colonel C.C.I. Merritt, was awarded the VC for his action in the Dieppe raid of 1943.

In 1915 he received his commission and rose to the rank of Captain in 1917.

He saw action first as a Transport Officer (logistics and re-supply), and later he was put in command of a Communications unit where he was awarded the Military Cross for his heroic work in maintaining communication lines between HQ and the front lines, as well as between artillery “spotters” and their guns.

The award appeared in the London Gazette dated Nov. 14, 1916: “For conspicuous gallantry in action. He kept signal communications under heavy fire. Later, he personally supervised the repair of wires that had been severed, displaying great courage and determination. He has previously done fine work.”

He was killed in action at Vimy Ridge in April 1917.

Letters:

June 21, 1916: Battle of Sanctuary Wood (Mont Sorel). I will now do my best to tell you about our big show, which came off on the 13th. It is the first letter I have tried to write since the action. To begin with, the Third Division lost about 1,500 yards of trenches, of 500 yards depth…It was quite light when we got into position and so only two battalions (the 14th and the 15th) charged; and we supported them. Without any artillery help the thing was impossible. They were mowed down by machine-gun and shrapnel…You can’t imagine what a modern barrage is like. Hell is not strong enough…all the time it was raining hard; the trenches (ditches of course) were worse than they were last winter; and we were all in summer clothes…

The 16th (Battalion) came quickly into action, and we sent those Huns flying in great shape. Lots of prisoners, but hundreds killed…

I had two close shaves—stunned twice. Once by a piece of casing, hitting my steel helmet; and again by a chunk, cutting through the padding of my overcoat and glancing off the side of my neck. My Sam Brown belt was cut in two. I was in the act of shooting a Hun at the time; but when I got to my feet, the swine was standing by, with his rifle and equipment on the ground. So I took him prisoner…You can’t imagine how cowardly the Huns were. One officer put his arms around my neck, and cried on my breast when he found that I wasn’t going to kill him…Those of us who got out alive were certainly born to die in our beds! They say that April 22, 1915 [the second Battle of Ypres, with the first use of gas primarily against Canadian troops] was merely play compared with this.

June 23, 1916: It makes it much easier when we think that the show was a huge success; and we did more than was expected of us. Really I never enjoyed two hours more in my life than when we were attacking. Wonderful excitement! But “holding on” the next day and being pounded by heavy “crumps” was no fun!

July 1, 1916: I’m afraid I have been terribly bad about writing this last month, but the papers I suppose explained the reason. We have been very busy on this front. In fact it has been the hardest month we have ever put in; and the few of us remaining consider ourselves lucky (or unlucky) for not having a nice wound and being safely in hospital. Personally, I have no desire to get away from; I want to see the thing through.

August 26, 1916: You seem to have an idea that one over here lives under a continual strain. Get that idea out of your dear head, right away. Taking it all round, life in this part of the world is quite amusing and not bad at all. Will you believe me when I say that I have enjoyed the last two years more than any others in my life? Of course, we are under great strain sometimes, but never for long, and we make up for all of that when we are out of the line. One could not find such healthy excitement as we have here in any part of the world. Please don’t worry about me. I never do; and I hate to think that I make you uneasy, even for a minute.

Final letter, on the eve of the action at Vimy Ridge, April 1917:

My Dear Father, I am writing one of those “in case” letters for the third time, and of course I hope you will never have to read it. If you are reading it now, you will know that your youngest son “went under” as proud as Punch on the most glorious day of his life. I am taking my company over the top for a mile, in the biggest push that has ever been launched in the world, and I trust that it is going to be the greatest factor towards peace.

Dad—you can’t imagine the wonderful feeling—a man thinks something like this: “Well, if I am going to die, this is worth it a thousand times.”

I have been over two or three times before, but never with a company of my own.

Think of it! A hundred and fifty officers and men who will follow you to hell if need be!

I don’t want any of you dear people to be sorry for me, altho’ of course you will in a way. You will miss me, but you will be proud of me. Mind you, I know what I am up against, and that the odds are against me. I am not going in the way I did the first time, just for the sheer devilment and curiosity. I have seen this game for two years and I still like it, and feel my place is here.

So much for that.

I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for all your loving kindness to me. This war has done wonders for me, and makes me realize lots of things which I would not have done otherwise. I could write a book about it, but you know what I mean.

Goodbye, dear Father, Mother, and all of you. Again I say that I am proud to be where I am now.

Gordie

Tributes from Officers and Peers:

The attack was launched on Easter Monday—with what result the whole world knows. A witness saw Gordon was struck on the hip by a shell fragment as he reached the German barbed-wire defenses, and must have died within a few seconds. “His expression was one of surprise, the faint flicker of a smile spreading from his half-opened lips…We were able to bury Gordon with military honours. The Pipers played that wonderful lament, “The Flowers of the Forest.” He is buried in the British Military Cemetery at Ecoivres, a tiny place…

He was the very best type of a clean, brave, and good soldier, cheery as could be at all times, ready to go anywhere, and he’d always go himself into any dangerous place where he had to send his men. Everyone thought the world of Gordie Tupper. I can’t believe he has gone: “With a cheery smile and a wave of the hand, / He has wandered into an unknown land.”

He was a topping sportsman of the first class, and had done awfully well. He was a wonderful soldier, and every officer and man in the battalion had the greatest respect and admiration for him

His colonel wrote: “He was a brave boy, cool in action, and the men were devoted to him. He was eager to take part in the assault which he knew was to take place shortly. His death will be a great loss to the regiment.”

Another colonel said: “I held your son’s character and abilities in the very highest estimation; I cannot exaggerate them. I regarded him as one of the most promising young officers in the army. He was endowed with great courage and judgement, and had tact and insight into human character far beyond his years. Although many of his officers and men were older than he, they followed him with loyalty and enthusiasm.”

A brigadier-general wrote: “I know how brave he was, and felt that his devotion to duty and disregard of personal danger might cost him his life.”

His divisional commander wrote: “He was an officer of whom I was proud, and in whom I had the greatest confidence in all circumstances. I trusted him implicitly; and the measure of an officer’s efficiency is the amount of confidence you can put in him. To be a success, an officer must be an instructor as well as a leader. Your son was a brilliant trainer of the men under his command, and was their true leader always.”

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