Fred Congdon then made a speech lauding the volunteers as heroes “of all time in Yukon,” asserting that “their names ever should be preserved here as the most honored in all the history of the Northland.”69
Mrs. Black got up and spoke on behalf of the IODE, thanking Boyle and the volunteers. In particular, she singled out gold miner Harry Lobley, the youngest member of the contingent, who had just turned twenty-two.70 She then called forward the thirty-five men who attended and presented each, one at a time, with a souvenir button, and then shook their hands. The buttons were fashioned by Dawson jeweler Charles Jeanneret, and each had the word “Yukon” across the face. Buck Taylor of the contingent called out the names of each and every man as they stepped forward to receive their gift.
Several stirring songs followed, including “O Canada,” sung by Mrs. Frank (Laura) Berton; “La Marseillaise,” sung by Max Landreville; and “It’s a Long Way to Tipperary,” sung by Charlie MacPherson. The schoolchildren followed with “Rule, Britannia!” and other patriotic numbers, directed by Professor Gillespie and accompanied on the cornet by Constable Clifford. After the songs were completed, the crowd gave three cheers and a tiger for the volunteers—twice.71 Then the ball began, and the dancing continued until one o’clock in the morning.72
The following day, during drill practice, the boys of Boyle’s Yukon machine gun detachment presented Constable Stangroom, their drill instructor, with a handsome gold nugget watch chain. The gift was a token of appreciation of the services rendered in giving them instruction. The constable was more than pleased with the handsome gift and made a neat address appreciative of the remembrance, but more than anything, he wanted to be joining them overseas.73
A few months later, Stangroom and two other constables escorted a “lunatic” from Dawson to Whitehorse, en route to an asylum in New Westminster. Instead of remaining in Whitehorse as ordered, Stangroom boarded the train for Skagway, but the train was stopped at Carcross and he was arrested. Stangroom was an excellent police officer, but he was exceptionally anxious to enlist to fight for “king and country.” He had repeatedly offered to buy his way out of the Mounted Police but was denied. Stangroom was later released from the Mounted Police to enlist and had some remarkable experiences on the Western Front. He would later be decorated for bravery.74
Three days later, a throng was assembled on the dock when the Boyle contingent departed for Whitehorse on the steamer Lightning at midnight. According to the News:
At 9 o’clock in the evening… the troop assembled at the Royal North West Mounted Police barracks. The boys were attired in their natty new uniforms, comprising khaki trousers and woolen shirts to match, yellow mackinaws and stiff-brimmed sombreros. A finer looking body of men never before was assembled north of fifty-three… Not being formally enlisted, they carried no arms.
When the last whistle blew the boys in khaki were lined up on the forward deck with Andy Hart, their recruiting officer and chief, in the centre. The band played “God Save the King,” and a more impressive rendition never fell on the ears of Klondike. The spirit of the occasion seemed to move all, and all stood and sang to the band accompaniment.
The boys proposed three cheers for the people of Dawson and yelled mightily. Then they gave three ringing cheers and a tiger for Joe Boyle and many more for Joe… With the exciting exhaust of steam, the kicking up of the foamy wake by the whirring wheel, the streaming of sparks and a column of smoke into the starry sky, the screaming of the steamer’s whistle and the jostling of the dancing waves against the shore, the scene was one of superb climax to the departure of the pride of the Yukon.
Standing at the end of the coal barge, in the shadow of the bulkhead, with bared head during all the excitement as the steamer plowed past the shouting crowd was a silent man, who watched the ship and her brave boys until she was out of hailing distance. He stood transfixed, gazing until only the dancing lights were visible on the water. It was Joseph Whiteside Boyle… Quietly he turned from the place on the barge, and marched up the street with the people, and was soon happily relating in his characteristic style one of his tales of good cheer from the inexhaustible fund which is his.75
The lights of Dawson faded behind them as they headed for Whitehorse. The journey that Boyle’s boys had embarked upon was not an easy one. Fog, shortened daylight hours and other obstacles slowed down their progress upstream so that it took them ninety-two hours to reach Fort Selkirk. At every camp they passed on their upstream voyage, they were greeted with cheers, and the recruits repeatedly sang, “It’s a Long Way to Tipperary.” Whether they used the original lyrics or those penned by John Dines is not known. When they reached Fort Selkirk, their singing was loud enough to scare the huskies into the woods. Finally, early in the morning on Friday, October 16, they arrived in Whitehorse, a week after leaving Dawson City. They had lunch on board, with Captain P. Martin, a Whitehorse businessman, and E.J. White, the editor of the Whitehorse Star, as special guests. Jim MacKinnon, known as “Skotay” by his fellow volunteers, made a speech, and they presented Captain Cowley with a gold watch chain and fob in appreciation of the hospitality extended to them during their upriver voyage. As the Lightning vanished downriver later, they stood on the wharf, again singing “Tipperary.”
The Boyle battery in uniform in Vancouver. Dawson City Museum 1984.55.1
Since the Canadian Pacific ship was not to arrive in Skagway for a few days, they remained in Whitehorse for a week; while they were there, they owned the town. A committee of Whitehorse citizens arranged some social activities for the Boyle boys. A dance was arranged for the Monday and a smoker for Tuesday. The five-piece orchestra donated their services for the dance. Across one end of the hall was hung a banner that read “Dawson to Berlin 7460 Miles.” The Boyle men, all dressed in their uniforms, had earlier posed for a photograph with the banner supported on the building behind them. A splendid supper was served after midnight, catered by Henry Kamayama, a local baker.76 The dancing continued until two in the morning. The smokers outnumbered the dancers the following night in a program filled with movies, speeches, dancing, recitations, songs, banjo duets and boxing matches, which also lasted until two in the morning. The guests stated that they were well entertained during their stay in Whitehorse.77 They then rode the train to Skagway and took passage on the Princess May to Victoria, where, after a three-day delay, they were transferred to Hastings Park camp in Vancouver, where hundreds of recruits were temporarily stationed.
Life took on some semblance of order at Hastings Park. Charles Jennings, a Whitehorse man, was appointed the colour sergeant, and James MacKinnon quartermaster. Harold Strong and Jesse Tolley became sergeants, and Robert Morton, Edward Fitzgerald, Frank McAlpine and William Black (Commissioner Black’s brother, who joined them in Vancouver) became corporals. But if they thought that they would soon see action, they were sadly mistaken.
A New Kind of War
The months rolled by and the Boyle unit remained in Vancouver, and the men became restless with the delays. Finally, on May 19, 1915, an impatient Joe Boyle sent a telegram asking when the Boyle contingent was to be shipped overseas. Minister Hughes responded by issuing orders that they be shipped overseas immediately, without horses. Within a week, the men, and Jack the husky, were on their way to Montreal by train. They boarded the SS Megantic on June 11 and arrived in England a week later.
Six months after arriving in England, the Boyle detachment was still posted to Shorncliffe camp in Kent, still unequipped and yet to see action. The discontent of the Yukon men grew. For patriotic Canadians, there was nothing nobler than to serve and to see action “on the front.” Many homesick enlistees wrote about their eagerness to go up on the line. “Yukoners are very much dissatisfied at being kept here so long,” wrote Felix Boutin to his brother back in Dawson,
In fact, a number of the boys have transferred and gone to