Before leaving Albert, the Quartermaster aroused the wrathful

indignation of the C.Q.M.S.’s by the issue of a quantity of clothing

and equipment which had been applied for at Henencourt. Many of the men

for whom it was intended had now become casualties, but that made no

difference to the Quartermaster’s stores of the Civil Service Rifles.

The most important article of clothing was the clean shirt which was

issued just before leaving Albert. The troops had not had a clean shirt

for many weeks, and the one they discarded was naturally somewhat the

worse for wear. One C.Q.M.S. on inquiring at the Orderly Room what

should be done with the old shirts was told by an Orderly Room clerk to

burn them. The clerk was trying to be funny, but the Q.M.S. missed the

point of his humour, and all Companies thereupon threw their old shirts

on the dust heap. When he was demobilised some years later the C.Q.M.S.

was still explaining to the authorities why he had destroyed his ultra

lousy shirts.

The train journey from Albert to Longpré is surely a record even for

the R.O.D. A distance of just over thirty miles was covered in the

astonishingly short time of twenty-six hours, during which time many

men had left the train, dined in Amiens, visited the local cinema,

and still caught the train up again without being recorded as absent.

Indeed, during one part of the journey there seemed to be more men

walking than were riding. At the same time every one seemed conscious

of the fact that he had said good-bye to the dreaded Somme battlefield,

so few felt disposed to complain of the shortcomings of the R.O.D.

After detraining at Longpré, two happy days were spent in the village

of Villers-sous-Ailly. The men received a hearty welcome from the

natives and M. le Maire, who seemed to be the greatest French authority

on the organisation of an English infantry battalion. This worthy

was very popular with the billeting party, for he had his village

completely mapped out, and could tell them whether a particular barn

was big enough to hold a platoon, a section, or a Lewis gun team.

The Battalion returned to Longpré on the 16th of October and entrained

for Caestre, which was reached in the early hours of the following

morning, whence a long and uninteresting march brought the Battalion to

scattered billets outside the village of Boeschepe, and after another

long march on the 19th, the Civil Service Rifles relieved the 16th

Battalion Australian Infantry in support to what was called the Bluff

Sub-sector (or Canal Sub-sector) south of Ypres, and close to what had

once been the Ypres-Comines canal.

CHAPTER XII

A REST CURE IN THE YPRES SALIENT

To those whose memories of Ypres are only associated with thoughts

of mud and slaughter, and who at the mention of the word “Salient”

instinctively think of the horrors of Passchendaele, the Menin Road and

Hooge, it will seem incredible that there was a time during the war

when the Ypres Salient was peaceful and quiet, a place where Divisions,

shattered on the Somme, came for recuperation.

It was in such a state that the 47th Division found the Ypres Salient

in October, 1916, and after what had been endured in the previous

month, it was particularly welcome.

In the Civil Service Rifles reconstruction had only just begun. No

drafts had reached the Battalion, which was very much below strength.

Some Companies had only one officer, the Company Commander, and

practically no N.C.O.’s above the rank of Lance-Corporal. It was well,

therefore, that there was no fighting and the sound of a shell was the

exception rather than the rule.

The Division had had no experience of trench warfare for some months,

and when the Civil Service Rifles on the 24th of October, 1916,

relieved the Post Office Rifles in the front line in what was called

the Ravine, a section of the Bluff Sector, they found several features

of trench warfare which were quite new to them.

In the first place, each Company had a cookhouse in the trenches, and

the Company cooks came in with their Companies and cooked all the meals

on the spot. Rations were pushed up almost to Company Headquarters in

trucks along a light railway, and there was a dump of R.E. material

actually in the Battalion area. These were all amenities of trench life

hitherto unknown, and all helped to convey the idea that the Civil

Service Rifles were making a new start in life. These conditions helped

materially to restore the confidence and fighting spirit of troops who

were rapidly approaching the “fed-up” state.

The trenches were mostly sandbagged barricades such as had been seen

as Festubert, but here they were neatly revetted with expanded metal,

and although there was a good deal of water, all the trench floors

were boarded. There were recesses labelled for bombs and S.A.A., and

although the trench shelters were not by any means shell-proof, the

majority at least were weatherproof.

There were many ambitious schemes for winter comforts. A Brigade gum

boot store with lots of thigh gum boots was already established, and

large shelters were being erected in each Battalion area as drying

rooms, where men would be able to dry their clothes. These shelters,

however, never got into working order. Another novelty was the

precaution taken to prevent trench feet or frost bite. It was arranged

that every man should change his socks and rub his feet with whale oil

every day, the old socks being sent down every night and exchanged at

the Divisional Laundry for alleged clean ones which were brought up

with rations the following night.

Thus it was hoped to combat some of the evils which beset the Army

during the previous winter, and there is no doubt that these measures

bore good fruit, for the losses through sickness during the winter of

1916-17 were less than half those of the previous winter.

But although the prospect at the beginning of winter was very bright,

and the troops were looking forward confidently to a spell of quiet

life, it was not long before things began to liven up, as though the

Ypres Salient had begun to look to its reputation.

The change was first noticeable when, on returning to the front line

after a few days in Divisional Reserve at Ottawa Camp, near the village

of Ouderdom, the Battalion took over a section of the front line in

what was called the Hill 60 Sector, on the 13th of November.

These trenches differed in many respects from those in the Ravine,

in spite of the fact that they were practically adjacent. Mining

activities were carried on here on a very elaborate scale, and there

were several deep tunnels, some, it was said, running as far forward as

the German front line on Hill 60 itself. These tunnels were all being

worked by one of the Australian Tunnelling Companies, to whom working

parties were sent day and night. The main line of the Ypres-Roulers

railway ran through the sector, and the old railway cutting formed

the right boundary of the Battalion front. The trenches had been in

existence for many months, and owing to the continual bombardments,

the ravages of weather, and the quaint ideas of sanitation of former

occupants of the sector, the area could hardly claim to be a health

resort. Large fat rats abounded in and around every trench, and so fat

were they that they had lost their turn of speed, and fell easy victims

to any who could find time to hunt them. Bully beef and Maconochie’s

famous meat and vegetable rations were to be found everywhere. Some men

say that these were often used in place of trench boards.

Those working in the tunnels with the Australians were impressed,

almost awestruck, by the magnitude of the mining operations, which

they felt sure would end one day in a miniature earthquake, and they

fervently hoped they would be at a safe distance when that should

happen. The tunnels were lighted by electricity, the power for which

was produced by a gas engine installed underground. A privileged few

were allowed to explore the wonderful Berlin Sap, a long tunnel which

stretched from some distance in rear of Battalion Headquarters to the

German lines.

But it must not be imagined that the troops enjoyed home comforts

in this area. The Companies holding the left of the Battalion front

had practically no protection from either shell fire or weather, and

those who have occupied the curiously-named Metropolitan Left and

Metropolitan Right will be ready to swear that there was no more

miserable place on the western front. They were, however, little better

off than those who were stowed away in the tunnels of Marshall Walk,

where the atmosphere reduced the occupants, packed in tight, to a state

of coma.

The enemy had now begun to bombard the area fiercely with various kinds

of shells and minenwerfer bombs, but fortunately he was kind enough,

at first at all events, to limit his bombardments strictly to certain

hours of the day. His special effort was always served up during the

two hours after lunch, and strangely enough it was mostly bestowed on

the Marshall Walk area, where the troops were able to squeeze into the

tunnels. The men in other parts of the line had to sit under a ground

sheet or a bit or corrugated iron and hope that nothing would come

their way. In this way five somewhat anxious days were endured with

comparatively few casualties before the Battalion moved into support

in another of the wonders of the Ypres Salient--the Railway Dug-outs.

These were dug-outs formed by tunnelling into the railway embankment

between the village of Zillebeke and Ypres itself. Half the Battalion

was accommodated here, the men occupying wire beds which were erected

in tiers. The atmosphere was thick, to say the least, and fatigue

parties were frequently told off to try to fan the foul air out with

gas fans. The other two Companies were at Battersea Farm and Château

Belge.

The Railway Dug-outs area had its advantages, however, for there was

little shelling and there were opportunities during the day to wander

out into the fresh air, to visit the Brigade canteen, and sometimes

to visit the ruins of the historic city of Ypres. The working parties

at night were employed in pushing trucks of R.E. material along what

remained of the railway line to the ration dump of the front line

Battalion, in the Hill 60 sector. On the whole the five days at Railway

Dug-outs were written down as not too bad, and after five more days in

the front line in Hill 60 sector, the end of November saw the Battalion

in Divisional Reserve in the huts at Ottawa Camp.

The Division had now settled down to a very stereotyped form of

warfare, and as there seemed every likelihood that no move would take

place for some months, an elaborate programme of work for improving the

accommodation both in trenches and camps was embarked upon.

There were two Brigades holding the line and one in reserve occupying

four hutted camps in the neighbourhood of the villages of Ouderdom and

Busseboom. It was arranged that whenever a Brigade was in reserve,

the various Battalions should always go to the same camp. So it came

about that the Civil Service Rifles always went to Ottawa Camp. This

arrangement, it was hoped, would encourage Battalions to work hard at

camp improvements. Works Officers were appointed and pioneer platoons

were detailed in each Company for this purpose, but every time the

Civil Service Rifles returned to Ottawa Camp they swore no work had

been done since they were last there.

Somebody did work in Ottawa Camp, however, for in course of time

it became transformed from the sea of mud, with a collection of

broken-down, draughty huts, into a tolerably comfortable camp--if any

camp in Belgium could be comfortable. The Battalion Mess for sergeants

was revived, and under the stewardship of Sergeant R. F. M. Bigby, a

fairly successful attempt was made to restore the former glory of the

Civil Service Rifles Sergeants’ Mess.

In looking back on the year spent in the Ypres Salient, the average

member of the Civil Service Rifles, full of the bitter memories of the

Menin Road, Hooge and Château Wood, is apt to forget that there was a

time when life was quite enjoyable in Ottawa Camp, with the trips to

Poperinghe, where there was much gaiety.

It is quite true, however, that at first Ottawa Camp was better known

for its discomfort than for anything else, and it was a curious fact

that Halifax Camp, which was the home of one of the Support Battalions

of a Brigade holding the front line, was much more comfortable.

The month of December 1916 is chiefly notable for the formation of what

was known as the “football team”--two officers (Second Lieutenants H.

S. Gosney and C. E. Groves) and fifty other ranks. This team began to

train for a raid on the German trenches, when they hoped to atone for

the ill-luck which had attended previous Civil Service Rifles’ raids.

[Illustration: SKETCH MAP TO ILLUSTRATE THE TWELVE MONTHS IN THE YPRES

SALIENT OCTOBER 1916-SEPTEMBER 1917.]

The party was housed in reserve dug-outs in the trenches about Château

Ségard, one of the support positions for the Ravine sector, and in

addition to training in the surrounding trenches after dark, parties

went up to the front line nightly to patrol No Man’s Land and inspect

the enemy wire.

The scheme was entered into with enthusiasm by the whole party, which

was split up into six groups, each with a definite job to do, and they

were all brim full of confidence when, at 5.45 p.m. on the 23rd of

December, they set out from the front line on their adventure--to the

strains of music from a violin in the German lines!

The troops entered the German front line safely enough and worked their

way round the appointed area. The opposition, not very strong, was

quickly overcome, but no prisoners could be brought back. Two Bosches

did get as far as the parapet but there they decided to stay, and as

nothing would induce them to come over, “they had to be disposed of,”

as one of the N.C.O.’s afterwards said in his report.

The return home at the appointed time was carried out successfully and

as numerous identifications were brought back, the object of the raid

had been achieved. The casualties were very few, but unfortunately they

included two killed--Lance-Corporal A. T. C. Geary and Private A. F.

Pearson.

The success of the raid put the whole party in good spirits for

Christmas, which, as in 1915, was spent in the trenches. The Christmas

celebrations duly took place, however, early in January at Ottawa Camp,

when each Company had a Christmas dinner and concert. The festival

lacked nothing on account of the postponement, and in many sections

of the Battalion it was kept up for several days. To celebrate their

success the survivors of the raid were given a dinner at which the

heroes of the evening were Lance-Sergeant H. J. Steele and Corporal J.

H. Swain, who had both been awarded the M.M.

CHAPTER XIII

THE SALIENT IN WINTER

Life in the Ypres Salient could now no longer be described as a rest

cure, for in addition to increased activity on both sides in the line,

the weather was of the real wintry type.

The trenches, where there had been “water, water, everywhere,” had

become ice-bound, and remained so for many weeks. Trench stores were

often taken over by a C.S.M. who could scarcely see them through the

ice, but who was told that he would “find they were all right when the

thaw came.”

To complete the wintry scene, snow had fallen and cast a mantle of

white over the ugly sights of war. The Ravine certainly looked pretty

now, with the feathery snowflakes glistening on the trees, and here and

there an icicle giving the genuine Christmas-card impression. No Man’s

Land, too, has rarely looked more picturesque with the festoons of

barbed wire daintily picked out in white. Yes, it was a beautiful scene

on a moonlight night in January 1917, but the sentry on the firestep

in the front line, with feet frozen, nose, ears and hands feeling as

though they were about to drop off, had no eye for such beauty. His

idea of beauty at the time was a little so-called dug-out, with a

ground sheet or an old post bag (contrary to G.R.O. “XYZ”) hanging

over the entrance, and inside a glorious warm “fug” with three or four

of his pals stewing in the fumes given off by a tiny brazier. It was

so cold on the firestep and the front line trenches were so near to

each other, that he daren’t stamp his feet, for fear of being heard in

the German line. Not that it mattered a great deal about being heard,

thought the sentry, for with his hands in such a frozen state that he

did not know whether he was holding his rifle or not, he couldn’t do

much to stop the Bosche if he did come over to-night. Things would not

be much better when the Battalion was relieved. He supposed it would

be Ottawa Camp again, where it was bitterly cold and the Quartermaster

would never give you any fuel. Why couldn’t he have a job like “Posh

Harry” at the Brigade School, he wondered? At any rate, there would be

a comfortable billet there, and a fire. He must get a stripe, that’s

what it came to, and then if he could not get a job at the Brigade

School or at the Divisional School in Poperinghe, at any rate he might

get sent there on a course. He was fed up with this life, he was sure,

and when his turn of sentry duty was finished and he was promptly put

on an ice-breaking fatigue, he began to think that there was some sense

after all in the peace talk that one read of in the newspapers at this

time. If only they would talk about it seriously! But what could one

expect when the newspaper folk described the peace talk as “an insult

to Tommy in the trenches”?

Meditations such as the foregoing were not uncommon in the early

part of 1917, when the wintry weather was almost the sole topic of

conversation. But what was dreaded more than the frost and snow was the

thaw which would follow, and how every man prayed that his Battalion

would move into Divisional Reserve the day the thaw came!

Before the thaw came, however, the Civil Service Rifles were to have

a little excitement in the front line, for one night in the middle of

January, the Bosche, who had evidently been reading the story of the

escape of Mary Queen of Scots from Lochleven Castle, had attired his

patrols in white raiment and sent them out across the snow. The trick

came off, and the Bosches entered the trench known as Berry Post,

inflicted casualties on the garrison, and got back to their own lines

unhurt.

This feat so impressed the authorities that by the time the thaw had

fairly set in, white patrol jackets were awaiting collection from

ordnance.

Many Transport men have unpleasant recollections of nights on this

sector, where rations were taken up to the front line in trucks

drawn by mules on the light railways from Woodcote Farm. In theory,

loaded trucks were picked up at the Farm and hauled to the Ravine or

elsewhere, there unloaded, and taken back to be ready for use next

day. In practice, the trucks were usually at the wrong end of the

railway to start with; and when obtained they invariably came off the

rails at intervals on the up-journey--to a chorus of curses from the

accompanying fatigue party. Drivers have bitter memories of nights when

shelling occurred while trucks were off the rails. They admit that it

was only human for the fatigue party to go to ground; but they still

cannot see how one man could be expected to manage a distracted mule

and also unload, re-rail and re-load a truck of trenchboards.

It was here that Onions, chief Bolshevik of the Battalion mules was

lost. After the line had been broken by shell-fire, she was sent up at

dawn to bring back stranded trucks. Enemy observers traced her back

to Brisbane Dump and sent out an S.O.S. reporting her presence there.

Onions left hastily with a dislike of barrage fire and a wound in the

head, and was sent forthwith to the Base to be seen no more by the

Civil Service Rifles.

* * * * *

Small drafts were continually arriving during the winter of 1916-17,

and they often included several old N.C.O.’s and men of the original

Battalion, who were coming out for their second trip to France. Such

men were generally given a rousing send off by their companions

at Hazeley Down Camp, Winchester, where the Reserve Battalion was

stationed. The war cry of the returned warriors at the time was

“Everybody once, before anybody twice” and the unofficial flag, known

as the “Twicers” Flag, which was usually carried aloft on the march to

the station, has since been framed, and now hangs in the Civil Service

Rifles’ Club to commemorate the once famous “F” Company of the Civil

Service Rifles Reserve Battalion.

For some unknown reason the officers joining the Battalion belonged to

regiments outside London. There were representatives of the various

Battalions of the Manchester Regiment, the Northern Cyclists and the

Hampshire Regiment. In fact, so many changes had taken place among the

officers of the Battalion, that by February, 1917, not a single one

remained of those who had embarked as officers in March 1915.

An interesting innovation during the early weeks of 1917, was the

starting of a Regimental Drum and Fife Band. The R. S. M. called it a

Corps of Drums, the troops knew it at first as those----tin whistles,

but under the leadership of Sergeant Drummer Harmon, the Regimental

Band became an accomplished fact, and the Civil Service Rifles had

music on the march for the first time since coming to France--except

for the early spring of 1916, when “Mattie” Hull conducted a mouth

organ and tin whistle band among the Lewis gunners.

A change from the eternal round of trench life came about towards the

end of February, when it fell to the lot of the Civil Service Rifles

to act for one month as Works Battalion in the Tenth Corps area. The

Companies were scattered over a very wide area, “A” being at Château

Belge, near Kruistraathoeke, “B” at Coppernollehoek and Poperinghe,

“C” at Pacific Sidings between Busseboom and Poperinghe, and “D” at

Vancouver Camp, close to Vlamertinghe. Battalion Headquarters remained

at Ottawa Camp. The Companies were employed daily on working parties,

chiefly under the Canadian Railway Construction Company, on work

connected with the laying of a light railway from Poperinghe to the

forward area. After the discomforts of trench life, the change was

very welcome, particularly with “B” Company, who had rather wonderful

billets, and “C” Company, who were all under one roof within easy

distance of Poperinghe.

The Companies were still scattered on the 17th of March, so it was

not possible for the Battalion to celebrate the day with a united

gathering, but “C” Company had a very successful show at Pacific Siding

which was attended by representatives from all the other Companies. The

Sergeants held a belated but very hearty celebration on another day,

and a party from “B” Company held a dinner in Poperinghe.

* * * * *

Throughout the first six months of the time spent in the Ypres Salient,

the Transport Lines were established at a typical Belgian farm, and

consequently no gathering of Transport men is now complete without a

few tales of Delanotte Farm.

In addition to the Transport, the Quartermaster and his staff spent a

good deal of their time at Delanotte Farm, where also the Civil Service

Rifles’ dentist, Corporal E. Pitt, was installed with all his stock

in trade. The Civil Service Rifles claim to be unique among Infantry

Battalions in the B. E. F. in that they alone possessed their own

dentist, who, although fully qualified, was primarily an infantryman

and was not one of the R. A. M. C. attached.

During his service in France, Corporal Pitt has attended to a

distinguished clientele, including at least one Brigadier General, but

he showed no class distinctions in his dental chair, and the humble

private was always sure of just as careful treatment as was given to

his Brigadier.

Pitt often had to work amid strange surroundings, but his surgery at

Delanotte Farm was perhaps his best known home, and one of his patients

has recorded his impressions of it:

“In the last great European War the ambitious Emperor who may

be regarded as the Kaiser’s prototype stated that an army

marched on its stomach. But what is a stomach without its

teeth? (vide any advertisements of ‘a complete set from one

guinea upwards’). At any rate the British Army has come to

regard the teeth of its lads as anxiously as the fond mother

regards her little one’s chewing organs. These few remarks will

serve to introduce our hero.

“Imagine a brick farm-house in a part of Belgium where the mud

is too muddy for words. The house nestles in a swamp of green

viscous slime. This was for many months the locale of the C.

S. R. Transport while the boys were disporting themselves in

the ditches (misnamed ‘trenches’) in the Ypres district. _The_

room of the farmhouse was of fairly decent size, with a low

ceiling supported by stout smoke-grimed beams. It was always

well patronised by the lads of the Transport, who would discuss

the inevitable eggs and chips and sip their coffee or beer all

day long. At a large sink by the window the good lady of the

house, assisted variously by a submissive husband, a daughter

(who could by no stretch of imagination be called a coquette!)

and a son, seemed eternally engaged either in preparing a salad

of chickweed and groundsel (or so it seemed), or in counting

the stock of dried haricots. In the other corner by the

window, there was a complete dental establishment installed.

This was the scene of the labours of the indefatigable Pitt,

and there was nothing of the horse-doctor’s methods about

him. I can assure you that he wielded the cocaine-injecting

needle as expertly as the one and only Sherlock himself. Did

you want a tooth scraped or stopped, or filled, or coddled in

any way whatever, our dentist would say ‘right,’ and place

a fresh cigarette in his holder (would that I received a

royalty on the cigarettes he smoked!) Then he would select

some fearsome-looking--but really harmless--instruments from

his plenteous stock, and carry on. His sideline (something

like the ‘making bricks in spare time’ stunt) was treating

cases that would ordinarily fall to the care of the M.O. if

he were available. It was surprising how the fame of Pitt

spread near and far; and many and various were his clients.

The amusing part was the complete nonchalance of the people

of the house. They would carry on their weird and wonderful

culinary processes at the sink while the amateur doctor

extracted teeth and poured away bloody water and rinsed foul

dressings under their very noses. In this atmosphere of eggs

and chips, steaming coffee, stale beer, tobacco smoke, flies,

and sometimes washing, Pitt carried on his labours day by day,

month by month, until the Battalion was sent away to happier

(?) hunting grounds....

“Jolly old Pitt! How many of us had cause to bless the fact

that we could go to him for healing balm in our time of bitter

sorrow!”

* * * * *

The Battalion was reassembled after being employed for a month as Works

Battalion, and on the 21st of March renewed its acquaintance with

the front line trenches in the Ravine. The trenches were no longer

ice-bound, but the official first day of Spring did not live up to its

name, for snow and sleet fell throughout the night. Eight uneventful

days in the Ravine were followed by a similar period in support in

the neighbourhood of Swan Château and Château Segard. Hitherto when

the Battalion had been at Swan Château the chief recreation had been

sliding on the pond in the château grounds. Captain Ind, in fact, made

a nightly practice of leading Headquarter Company in sliding on the

ice by moonlight. On this occasion, however, boating and fishing were

freely indulged in. There was an odd looking craft on the pond, which

was in great demand, and the most popular bait for the fish seemed to

be a Mills bomb--though this bait was not sanctioned by the B. E. F.

Angling Society. It was in fact forbidden by G.R.O., so it naturally

follows that no angler was ever known to use the bait.

Any man who thought the Battalion had come to the Ypres Salient for

boating and fishing, however, was rudely disillusioned when a return

was made to the front line in the familiar Ravine. The London Irish had

just finished a big raid on the German lines when the Civil Service

Rifles relieved them on the night of the 7th of April, and henceforth

things livened up very considerably in this sector, where life had

previously been tolerably quiet. The Bosche now bombarded furiously,

and on the 9th of April (Easter Monday) he raided the Battalion on

the immediate left of the Civil Service Rifles, causing pretty heavy

casualties. The raid took place at 6.30 p.m. and the accompanying

fireworks were kept up throughout the night. As a sample of the

frightfulness that could be served up in the Salient, it was fairly

complete, and the Civil Service Rifles, although not in the raided

trenches, lost thirteen killed and eighteen wounded during the night.

The Division very soon afterwards had to take over a little more of the

line immediately south of the Ypres-Comines Canal, known as the Spoil

Bank Sector, and as it meant giving up the hated Hill 60 Sector, the

change was a very popular one.

Ottawa Camp now came within the area of another Division, and the Civil

Service Rifles, on being relieved on the 12th of April by the First

Surrey Rifles, moved into Divisional Reserve in Devonshire Camp, near

Busseboom.

Early in April rumours of a big Spring offensive began to relieve

the monotony, and the story was passed from one to another in strict

confidence that the Civil Service Rifles would soon attack a château in

a wood just south of the canal, where the Adjutant was of opinion that

“we shall have some interesting wood fighting.”

The next trip to the front line was to the Spoil Bank section itself,

whence rumour had it that the attack would some day be launched, and

amateur tacticians were thus able to study the scheme on the spot. A

preliminary reconnaissance generally ended in the observer hoping he

would be away on leave or on a course when the attack should eventually

take place.

An unsuccessful attempt at a raid by the enemy at 4.30 a.m. on the 25th

April was the only incident of note in a somewhat uninteresting stay in

the front line, where nearly every trench appeared to be open to direct

observation from the Bosche. The mystery about the Spoil Bank sector,

with its trenches so open and devoid of shelter, was that in five days

there were only eight casualties, all of which occurred during the

enemy’s attempted raid. The bombardment during the raid was such as to

make every man look forward with more than usual keenness to the relief

on the following night by the 6th Battalion, when the Civil Service

Rifles moved to Dominion Camp, adjoining Devonshire Camp.

CHAPTER XIV

THE MORINGHEM TREK

A long stay of eleven days in Dominion Lines ended with a return to

the Support positions around Swan Château on the 8th of May, but only

three days were spent here (during which time there were thirteen

casualties, an unusually high number for the comparative safety of

support positions) before the Battalion was relieved by the Poplar and

Stepneys, and moved back to the village of Dickebusch for two days,

before starting on the “Moringhem Trek,” the first affair of its kind

since the memorable trek to the Somme.

The trek began on the 13th of May with a march to the village of Watou,

and the old soldier now knew that he would soon be taking part in an

attack. “They’re not taking us all this way for exercise, or simply for

our amusement” he told the latest joined recruit as they marched along,

“but it’s worth it to get away from the Salient for a few days and to

see the civvies once more without any fear of shelling. And remember,

when we go over the odds are generally about four to one on a blighty,

so don’t worry.”

The billets were good in Watou, but they were even better in the

village of Sercus, where the Battalion, after marching through

Hazebrouck, spent the second night. General regret was felt that only

one night was spent in this village, and on the third day, after

passing through Arques and St. Omer, the training area was reached

and the Companies were billeted in the village of Moringhem and

the neighbouring villages. On the whole the billets were poor and

uncomfortable, besides being scattered. “A” and Headquarters Company

were in Moringhem itself, “B” and “C” were about a mile and a half away

in Petit Difques, and “D” were in the little hamlet of Cuslinghem.

It was announced that about three weeks would be spent in this

district, and a somewhat ambitious programme of sports and recreation

was drawn up. The training was often finished soon after mid-day. An

inter-platoon football competition was started, and preliminary heats

for the Battalion Sports Meeting, to be held on the 20th of May, were

run off during the early days of the “holiday.”

The Brigadier having expressed a wish that officers and men should be

given facilities to visit St. Omer, parties were made up each day for

that purpose. The men generally went in G.S. wagons and limbers, and

the officers usually returned _a voiture_.

A novelty in Regimental Sports was introduced on the 19th of May

at what was reported in the _Financial Times_ as the Moringhem May

Meeting, when the only event was a horse race for officers’ chargers.

The race took place after church parade, and was over a five furlong

course behind the village church. Unfortunately, one or two of the

starters were not quite sure where the course was, and consequently

several horses had to wait at “the tapes” while Battalion orderlies

scoured the village for missing runners and jockeys. More unfortunate

still was the experience of the “bookie” who, at great trouble, had

secured costumes for himself and his clerk, but who spent the morning

wandering about the neighbouring hills, vainly searching for the

course, and cursing his clerk for a fool.

Lieutenant Craig, the Transport Officer, acted as starter to a field

of seven. The Adjutant’s horse, Bunty, was first away, but his jockey

lost a stirrup and could not keep the lead. Entering the straight,

the Medical Officer (Captain C. M. Gozney) on the Boy, was in front,

and, shaking off the challenge by Bunty and Sunshine, he rode a good

race and won by a short head from the former, with Sunshine (ridden by

Captain F. D. Balfour) close up third. The winner started at 5-2, Bunty

at 3-1, and Sunshine at 100-3. The favourite Polly (5-4), ridden by

Captain Bowers Taylor, a heavyweight jockey, was quite unable to give

the weight away to the leaders. The bookie, it should be mentioned,

arrived on the course just in time to “pay out,” as there had been

considerable ante-post betting, and all the placed horses had been well

backed.

The Battalion Sports Meeting on the following day was marred by orders

to send off a digging party of 200 other ranks to dig trenches on the

training ground. The whole Battalion had turned up on the Transport

Field, and cookers were in attendance so that tea could be had on the

ground, but after the departure of the working party, interest in the

Sports died down, and the crowd, somewhat disappointed, filtered away.

Much keener interest was taken in the Inter-platoon football

competition, in the final of which Numbers 5 and 15 Platoons met three

times at Moringhem without being able to come to a decision. Two hours

exciting play on each of the first two occasions failed to produce even

a goal, but at the third meeting, play actually continued until Lights

Out, when the score was two goals all. It should, perhaps, be mentioned

that in these days of summer time it was not uncommon for Lights Out

to be sounded while it was still daylight. The football final was not

decided until after the Battalion had been in the front line. The score

on that occasion, when Number 15 Platoon won by no less than nine goals

to nothing, was an eloquent but sad testimony to what had happened

since the three drawn games at Moringhem.

The stay at Moringhem differed in many respects from the preparation

for the Somme battle in 1916. On this occasion the Division marched

straight to its training ground, which was reached in three days. The

marked out course quickly made its appearance, and it was made known at

the outset that the 140th Brigade was training for the attack on the

German positions around the White Château, just south of the Canal,

near Hollebeke. Moreover, the “non-starters” were selected at the

beginning of the training, and the rehearsals were carried out with the

officers, N.C.O.’s and men who were going to take part in the actual

attack.

The training was nothing like so strenuous as that for the High Wood

battle, and the men thus finished their day’s work with sufficient

energy left for football and other sports in the evening. In one

respect the experience of the Somme preparation was repeated. The

Adjutant, Captain W. E. Ind, M.C., threw himself whole heartedly and

enthusiastically into the work of training the Battalion and had very

quickly mastered every detail of the scheme. It was very largely due

to his efforts that the Civil Service Rifles left Moringhem thoroughly

prepared for their share in the battle and so full of confidence in

their success.

On the whole a very happy time had been spent at Moringhem, and there

was no great anxiety to leave the place on the 31st of May, when the

Battalion returned by train from St. Omer to Poperinghe, where, as they

marched out of the station, the troops were greeted at once with a few

shells--just as a reminder that they were back in the Salient.

The discomforts of the Ypres Salient were rarely more forcibly

illustrated than on the afternoon of the arrival at the so-called

tented camp in Dominion Lines. The march from Poperinghe Station took

place in the afternoon, and the Battalion marched into Dominion Lines

with visions of a comfortable camp and a welcome cup of tea! The men

were doomed to disappointment, for the “camp” proved to be a strip of

waste ground, very dusty, and without even a blade of grass on it.

There were a few bivouac sheets to be issued to each Company, and there

were about three bell tents for officers. Beyond this there was not

a stick of camp equipment of any kind. The disappointment was all the

keener because the Area Commandant was a Civil Service Rifles officer,

and it was thought he might have treated his own Regiment a little

better. The other three Battalions of the Brigade were comfortably

housed in huts.

The country all around presented a very different aspect from that seen

in the autumn of 1916, when the Division came to Ypres for a rest.

On all sides one now saw signs of the coming offensive. The roads

were lined with big ammunition dumps, a few of which were blown up

nightly by Bosche artillery fire, which had increased very considerably

during the past month. The English artillery, too, had increased their

activity, and some wonderful bombardments were witnessed both by day

and night. The Bosche, in fact, could not have had much doubt of what

was in store for him. The only doubt in his mind would be how much

longer he would be allowed to remain in his front line trenches.

A mysterious-looking enclosure, marked “Segregated Area,” attracted

a good deal of attention from the curious among the troops, who,

after reading the notice outside, that no horses could be admitted,

discovered that many tanks were housed there. Members of the Civil

Service Rifles who had been on the Somme heaved a sigh of relief when

they learnt that, although tanks were co-operating in the coming

attack, none were allotted a definite part in the task of their

Battalion.

The 2nd of June was devoted to final preparations for the battle.

Officers got their men together for a little extra talk, and all ranks

eagerly studied maps and aeroplane photographs, of which there was a

generous supply and which showed clearly how thoroughly the artillery

had prepared the way. There was an atmosphere of suppressed excitement

similar to that of the days before High Wood, but on this occasion

there was greater confidence, inspired by the unmistakable evidence on

all sides of the magnificent work of the artillery and the Air Force.

Company Commanders went up to reconnoitre the support positions which

the Battalion was to occupy the next day, and working parties were sent

out along the cross-country tracks, which had been made to ease the

traffic along the roads. These parties were occupied all day in the

pleasant task of filling up the shell holes which the Bosche had made

overnight.

The battle surplus to be left behind when an Infantry Battalion took

part in an attack had by this time been clearly defined by General

Headquarters, and consequently a large party of “non-starters” joined

the Divisional Reinforcement Camp before the Battalion left for the

trenches on the 3rd of June. These included, in addition to two of

the regular Company Commanders, representatives of every platoon and

specialist section in the Battalion-picked N.C.O.’s and men who would

form a worthy nucleus on which to build a new Battalion in the event of

heavy casualties being suffered. The Divisional Reinforcement Camp was

commanded by Lieut.-Colonel Warrender, who had left the Civil Service

Rifles the previous November to command the 47th Divisional School at

Poperinghe.

CHAPTER XV

MESSINES--7TH JUNE, 1917

The Regimental Diary gives a detailed description of the career of the

Civil Service Rifles from the time of leaving Dominion Lines on the

night of the 3rd of June to the return from the trenches after the

battle:--

“Just before we started for the trenches at 10.0 p.m.,

the Bosche dropped a few big shells on the track near the

segregated area, so it was felt that as we had to pass this

point the war had started in earnest. Fortunately the whole

Battalion passed this area without mishap, and the journey to

the trenches was very quiet until we approached Café Belge,

when we received a message that the Bosche was shelling that

spot freely with gas shells. The information proved to be true,

and the Battalion had its first experience of a real gas shell

bombardment--happily without any casualties. We reached the

support positions--trenches in the vicinity of Swan Château

and Château Segard--without any further adventure, and after

relieving the Poplar and Stepney Rifles, spent a quiet night in

very crowded quarters.

“The Battalion spent three days in these trenches, and on the

whole they were very pleasant. The weather was good, and there

were practically no working parties, so the men got plenty of

time for rest. The time was spent in such final preparation for

the attack as issuing bombs, rifle grenades, ground flares,

picks, shovels and chewing gum (one stick between two) and

rations for ‘the day.’ The Company Commanders reconnoitred

the assembly positions on the morning of the 6th, and by that

afternoon everything was ready for the move up to the assembly

trenches. The whole Battalion was in excellent spirit and every

one was full of confidence. The men had taken a very keen

interest in the orders and every man knew the part he had to

play.

“We had a quiet move to the assembly trenches at night, and

although the tracks and back areas were receiving their usual

nightly ration of shells, there were no casualties.

“It was now known that the attack would be delivered at dawn,

and the few hours before zero were spent in comparative peace.

The trenches were those occupied by the Civil Service Rifles

on their last visit to the front line. ‘A’ Company was in the

old Lock House, near the Spoil Bank by the side of the Canal.

The remaining Companies were on their right in West Terrace and

Grenade Trench, in the order in which they were to attack. ‘D’

was on the right, ‘B’ next, ‘C’ next, and for the attack ‘A’

Company came out of the Lock House and formed the left flank.

“Zero for the great 2nd Army attack was at 3.10 a.m. on the 7th

of June, but our Battalion took no part in the first phase.

An hour before zero, all Company Commanders were to report to

Battalion Headquarters to be on the spot if anything went wrong

with the first phase. Battalion Headquarters was in a smelly,

wet dug-out in West Terrace. It had walls of brick and some

attempt at a concrete roof. The party assembled there consisted

of the Commanding Officer, Lieutenant-Colonel H. Marshall

(Hampshire Regiment), the Adjutant, Captain W. E. Ind, M.C.,

and the four Company Commanders--‘A’ Company, Captain A. Bowers

Taylor (Manchester Regiment, attached); ‘B’ Company, Captain

G. C. Grimsdale; ‘C’ Company, Second-Lieutenant P. Davenport;

and ‘D’ Company, Second-Lieutenant G. Hasleham (Manchester

Regiment, attached). The Signals Officer, Second-Lieutenant

R. W. Illing and the Bombing Officer, Second-Lieutenant O. E.

Burden, also hovered about, and there was the usual ‘chorus’

generally found hanging round Battalion Headquarters--servants,

police, pioneers, signallers and runners. Wallis, the ‘head

waiter,’ moved about as unconcerned as ever, with sandwiches

and whisky and soda for the guests. The gathering reminded one

of Bairnsfather’s sketch, ‘An hour before going into trenches.’

Ind tried hard to keep the conversation going; Grimsdale, who

occupied one of the few seats, appeared somewhat subdued,

though he had a few knotty problems to put to the assembly.

Hasleham, who squatted tailor fashion on the floor, went to

sleep, while Bowers Taylor and Davenport spent the time trying

to follow his example--without much success.

“At 3.10 a.m. precisely, the floor, walls and ceiling began to

rock furiously, and we realised that the Australian tunnellers

in Marshall Walk had not boasted idly when they told us last

November that their mine under Hill 60 would one day stagger

humanity. A moment later, another big mine went up at St. Eloi,

and at the same time the most wonderful bombardment there has

ever been known was let loose. Big guns, howitzers and field

guns seemed to be firing from everywhere behind us, and one

could not help feeling overawed by the magnificence of our

artillery. The machine guns joined in the fun, and the whole

thing inspired every one with great confidence. No human beings

could possibly withstand such a bombardment. It was the noise

of the bombardment, so often described as drumfire, which was

mistaken afar off for the noise of the mines, and imaginative

journalists with a keen sense of hearing afterwards wrote tales

of how they had heard the mines in London. The mines actually

made comparatively little noise.

“We had three hours to wait before our time came to jump off,

so we tried to see what was going on in front, where the

7th and 8th Battalions were attacking the White Château and

neighbouring trenches. Little could be seen, however, beyond a

big cloud of dust and here and there a tank toiling over the

shell holes. The Bosche, apparently, had no guns to spare for

us, as he left us entirely alone, and at 5.15 a.m. we moved up

to our jumping off trenches undisturbed.

“The Adjutant, who for many weeks had worked on this scheme

harder than the producer of plays ever worked on a great

masterpiece, came up to see us off, and as the situation was so

quiet we were able to form up in waves outside our jumping-off

trenches. Our new padré, too, came along to wish the ‘dear

lads’ the best of luck, and to distribute a large quantity

of cigarettes. A staunch friend to the troops at all times,

the Rev. Ernest Beattie was surely the most cheery padré a

Battalion could have had. It did one good to see his genial

smile whenever he came round the line.

“The first wave consisted of one platoon of each Company, ‘A’

on the left under Sergeant Steele, then ‘C’ (Second-Lieutenant

Stoneman), ‘B’ (Sergeant G. T. Bachell), and ‘D’

(Second-Lieutenant G. T. Mellett). An additional platoon of ‘B’

under Second-Lieutenant Temple was attached to this wave which,

under the command of the Officer Commanding ‘C’ Company, moved

off at 6.25 a.m. The Battalion scouts, who had previously gone

forward to reconnoitre, had just returned and reported that all

had gone well with the Post Office Rifles, who were holding all

their objectives, and that the stream beyond, which we had to

cross, was practically dry and offered no obstacle.

“The first wave had a good start, and in a line of sections in

single file went unhindered through the three objectives held

by the Post Office Rifles and across the aforesaid stream in

the White Château grounds, until it opened out to two lines

in extended order and halted under the barrage in a hollow

in front of the first objective, Oak Crescent, a trench just

south of the White Château stables. The first wave of the 6th

Battalion, who were attacking the stables on our left, moved

off at the same time. While waiting for the barrage to lift, we

suffered a few casualties.

“The scene in the hollow while waiting for the barrage to

lift was a truly remarkable one. The inevitable mixing up of

waves had occurred, and the 2nd, 3rd and 4th waves, who were

following the first at five minute intervals, here became

merged into one mass, and the scene looked like the field for

a big cross-country race. The mix-up had occurred owing to the

men crossing the rough ground much more quickly than had been

expected. In the background a tank was slowly making its way

across the line of our advance to assist the 6th Battalion at

the stables if necessary. A small crowd gathered round it and

watched it with interest. What was most extraordinary was the

very slight enemy fire, and men were able to sort themselves

out more or less with ease.

“When the barrage lifted, the first wave went forward to

assault Oak Crescent, but the difficulty was not so much to

capture it as to recognise it, for our guns had done their work

so well that it was hard to find the place where the trench

had been--and there was no trace of a Bosche either alive or

dead. The second wave, consisting of one platoon of ‘C’ Company

under Sergeant Glass, and one platoon of ‘D’ Company with

Company Headquarters, arrived to ‘mop up’ the trench, but as

they could not find any trench to mop up, they devoted their

time to trying to dig one instead. About this time the Officer

Commanding ‘A’ Company, Captain A. Bowers Taylor, was killed,

and the Officer Commanding ‘D’ Company, Second-Lieutenant

Hasleham, was wounded, and in addition the Battalion suffered

its most serious loss since leaving England. Lieutenant Ind,

who, in his eagerness to see that everything went well, had

followed the Battalion up to the hollow ground before the

first objective, was hit in the head by a piece of shell, and,

although he was taken down immediately, he was so badly wounded

that he died the same evening without recovering consciousness

in No. 10 Casualty Clearing Station, near Poperinghe. So the

Civil Service Rifles lost the finest Territorial soldier who

ever served with them. Fortunately the news did not get round

for some time, but it had a somewhat depressing effect when it

became known, for needless to say, Lieutenant Ind was loved by

every officer, N.C.O. and man in the Battalion. No man could

have worked harder for the welfare of a Battalion than he did,

nor could anyone be more fearless and unselfish than he was. He

had been with the 1st Civil Service Rifles continuously since

the Foreign Service Battalion was formed, and throughout he had

devoted himself wholeheartedly to the Regiment, whose members

he was ever ready to help in any way he possibly could. He

was a magnificent soldier, a thorough gentleman, and an ideal

friend, and his loss has left a gap in the Battalion which can

never be adequately filled. He had been looked upon for so long

as so essential a part of the Battalion that his many friends

found it difficult to realise that he had been killed.

[Illustration:

_Photo by The Chesterfield Studios Co., Chesterfield._

CAPTAIN W. E. IND, M.C.

Adjutant 1st Batt., 15th March, 1916, till his death in Action,

7th June, 1917.

_To face page 142._

]

“By a strange coincidence, Lieutenant-Colonel H. H. Kemble,

M.C., the Commanding Officer of the 23rd London Regiment (who,

as Captain Kemble, had been Ind’s Company Commander in the

Civil Service Rifles during their first six months in France)

was mortally wounded almost at the same time as his old

friend, and died the same night in the same ward. These two

old comrades were buried side by side in the Military Cemetery

just south of Poperinghe between the railway and the road to

Westoutre.

“Lieutenant-Colonel Kemble’s death was lamented by all who knew

him in the Civil Service Rifles, where he was so well known and

respected as a very gallant Company Commander.

“But although, as has been stated, the loss of Lieutenant Ind

had a somewhat depressing effect, it did not interfere with the

attack, and the third wave, consisting of one platoon of ‘A’

Company (Second-Lieutenant G. W. Ackworth), one of ‘C’ Company

(Second-Lieutenant T. Woods), one of ‘B’ (Second-Lieutenant

Samuel) and one of ‘D’ (Second-Lieutenant Margrett), under the

Officer Commanding ‘B’ Company, moved through the line of what

was once Oak Crescent, and took their objective, Oblong Trench,

with little opposition.

“The fourth wave, also consisting of a platoon from

each Company (‘A,’ Second-Lieutenant L. C. Morris, ‘B,’

Second-Lieutenant C. Stevenson, ‘C,’ Second-Lieutenant C. V.

Marchant, and ‘D,’ Second-Lieutenant Moran), now moved through

Oak Crescent and amalgamated with the first wave. The two

together then moved forward, with an additional platoon of ‘A’

Company (Second-Lieutenant A. Wilson) on the left, and captured

the final objective, Oblong Reserve, where a few tired and

frightened Germans readily gave themselves up.

“About 200 yards beyond the final objective was a ruined

building, known as Delbske Farm, surrounded by a trench.

The instructions were that a patrol was to be pushed out to

the farm, which, if not held strongly, was to be rushed and

captured. A kind of scramble was accordingly made for the farm

by a party consisting of ‘C’ Company Headquarters, and Nos. 9

and 11 Platoons, with Sergeant Steele’s platoon of ‘A’ Company

and any odd men of other Companies who happened to be handy.

The farm and trench were taken with little opposition, and

about thirty prisoners came pouring out of the building anxious

to be shown the way ‘home.’

“In every case throughout the day the objective had been

captured with ease. There were very few Bosches to be found,

and these immediately gave themselves up without a struggle

when we entered their trenches. Indeed, the only infantry

action took place after the trench at Delbske Farm had been

taken, when patrols, going out to right and left, were subject

to rifle fire from Bosche patrols, who later in the morning

seemed to have recovered from their fright sufficiently to

inflict a few casualties on the occupants of the trench outside

the farm. It was here that Sergeant Steele and Corporal

Freeman, of ‘A’ Company, after doing sterling work on patrol,

were shot through the head and killed instantly.

“Late in the afternoon the Bosche began shelling heavily, but

although our aeroplanes twice reported him to be massing for

counter-attack, he was effectively dispersed by our artillery

and did not even leave his trenches.

“The night was fairly quiet except for some desultory shelling;

but the troops were all very tired after their efforts of the

past 24 hours, and it came as a very pleasant surprise when

early on the morning of the 8th, the 2nd Leinsters arrived

and relieved us. The four Companies moved back to Ecluse

Trench--a support trench running south from the canal about

half a mile behind our original assembly positions. It was

quite a comfortable place and the weather was fine and warm.

The tired troops were therefore able to enjoy a solid day’s

sleep, undisturbed by shells. They were all very proud of their

victory, and when they were not sleeping they were all talking

at once, comparing souvenirs and recounting their various

experiences.”

* * * * *

So ended the first phase of the capture of the Messines-Wytschaete

Ridge. It had been a wonderful demonstration of the power of artillery

supported by a thorough aeroplane reconnaissance. From the point of

view of the infantry it had been a “walk over,” at least so far as the

Civil Service Rifles were concerned. Tales were told of hand-to-hand

struggles in the vicinity of the White Château, but the German troops

opposed to the Civil Service Rifles evidently knew whom they had to

deal with and they wisely refrained from indulging in any fighting. The

casualties, happily, were few, and the victory, considering the number

of objectives and the extent of ground covered, was undoubtedly a cheap

one. It was illustrated very clearly, however, how impossible it is,

when advancing over a wide area of rough ground, to arrive at the

distant objective in anything like the waves laid down in the training

pamphlets.

Here were conditions ideal for a model attack--excellent artillery

support, well-trained men, every one of whom was keen and clearly

understood the scheme which had been so thoroughly rehearsed, and a

very weak opposition, and yet the attack became little more than a

scramble after the first objective was passed. At the same time the

troops had taken and held all the objectives allotted to them, and

there was a feeling of satisfaction among the members of the Civil

Service Rifles that the Battalion had done all that it was asked to do

in what was, so far, the greatest British victory of the war.

After two days’ rest in Ecluse Trench a return was made to the front

line, and the 6th Battalion were relieved on the 10th of June in a

trench known as Opal Reserve--on the left of Oblong Reserve, familiar

to the Civil Service Rifles as one of their objectives on the 7th.

Battalion Headquarters was in what was left of the White Château itself.

Although only two days were spent here it was a much more trying

experience than the battle had been, and the casualties suffered were

considerably more than the average for merely holding the line. The

Bosche had now reorganised his artillery, and he was using it to some

purpose on the White Château and its grounds. The first taste of the

trouble was given to No. 9 platoon of “C” Company on their way to the

front line. Starting out with about twenty men under Second Lieutenant

Stoneman, only nine reached the front line in Opal Reserve, four having

been killed, and seven wounded.

The front line trench, which was mostly mud, was held by “B” and “C”

Companies, “A” and “D” being in reserve in a series of German “pill

box” shelters. Second Lieutenant L. L. Burtt was now in command of

“B” Company, and it is said he spent the time in being pulled out of

the mud by his Sergeant-Major (R. H. Burden), and in turn pulling him

out. There was no shelter of any kind for either of the front line

Companies, but “C” Company Headquarters occupied a niche cut out of the

wall of the trench, and there the Company Commander sat with an officer

on each side of him, like statues in the walls of a cathedral.

The time here was spent in clearing the trench of the ever-falling

debris, dodging shells, and digging a jumping-off trench for the 41st

Division, who were shortly to continue the advance. For this purpose

they relieved the 47th Division on the night of the 12th of June, and

the Civil Service Rifles gladly handed over their strip of mud to the

18th Battalion K.R.R., and made their way out to Chippewa Camp, near

Reninghelst, where they arrived at about 6.0 a.m. on the 13th of June,

so tired that they didn’t care a fig who held the Messines-Wytschaete

Ridge.

* * * * *

In accordance with the usual practice after a big battle, the Division

went right back for rest and reorganisation, and after two days’

marching the Civil Service Rifles, on the 16th of June, reached the

village of Ebblinghem, between Hazebrouck and St. Omer.

The twelve days spent in this village were chiefly devoted to preparing

for an inspection by the Divisional Commander, and training for the

Divisional Water Carnival at Blaringhem. An al fresco concert in “D”

Company’s billet on the 23rd of June threatened to fall flat, but the

arrival, at a gallop, of a limber with a large barrel of beer on board

set things moving, and the concert finished very well.

The Divisional Water Carnival was held in the canal at Blaringhem on

the 26th, and the crowd of visitors made one think of a Town Regatta

on the Thames, the fair sex being well represented. The weather was

gloriously fine, and the comic events were well to the fore in the

programme. The Battalion carried off its fair share of the honours, the

chief success being that of the R.Q.M.S., W. B. Hart, who built the

winning boat in the odd craft race, cleverly rowed by R. D. Tidmarsh,

who won an easy victory by a distance. A small lottery was arranged

for the visitors, and Mdlle. Victoria, the fair damsel at the Civil

Service Rifles Headquarters billet, won the first prize. This brought

to a close the holiday at Ebblinghem, for the march back to the war

was begun on the morning of the 28th, and, after staying one night

at Meteren and one night at Voormezeele, the month of July found the

Civil Service Rifles in support in what had been the German front line

immediately south of the Canal.

The weather was bad, the trenches were in a perfectly rotten state of

repair, and the men had no protection against persistent shelling.

Three very unlucky days were spent here, during which time the losses

from shell fire amounted to about forty all ranks, and on the night of

the 3rd of July, after being relieved by Companies from the 21st, 22nd,

and 23rd Battalions, a weary and somewhat fed up Battalion made its way

to Murrumbidgee Camp--a hutted camp near the village of La Clytte.

The chief attraction here was a bathing pond which, although somewhat

“soupy,” was well patronised by the troops.

[Illustration:

(_Portrait by Gabell._)

FRANCIS WOODBINE PARISH, 1915

Captain, King’s Royal Rifle Corps; Adjutant, Prince of Wales’s Own

Civil Service Rifles.

His wound, sustained in action on the Western front, was a contributory

cause of his death in 1921.

_To face page 147._]

CHAPTER XVI

THE RENAISSANCE

Among the prominent events which may be regarded as landmarks or

milestones in the career of the Civil Service Rifles in France, two

have already been passed--Vimy Ridge and High Wood. The third milestone

was one of a different character, but the arrival of Lieut.-Colonel F.

W. Parish, M.C., to take command most certainly marked the beginning

of a new phase in the life of the Battalion. As the pre-war Adjutant,

Captain Parish had played a great part in the training of the Civil

Service Rifles for war, and all who knew him at the time will remember

his keenness. He left the Battalion at the end of October, 1915, to be

G.S.O. III of the 19th Division, and afterwards took command of one

of the Service Battalions of the North Staffords, with whom he was

severely wounded in the Somme Battle of 1916.

It was soon found that he had lost none of his enthusiasm for the Civil

Service Rifles, and although a great many changes had taken place since

he left, there were still a good many who remembered him, and as he

walked along the trenches in Bois Confluent, near St. Eloi, on the 9th

of July, he could not mistake the welcome that was shown to him in the

faces of all his old friends. The Battalion, sad to relate, had become

somewhat stale and had a tired look, and the new Commanding Officer

supplied just the touch of renewed vigour which had been lacking of

late. He took the earliest opportunity to tell the troops that he was

glad to see them all, but that they were not quite the Battalion of

old, and he would not be content until they were. He said they were not

as clean as they might be, and although they had fought well, they were

not so smart, and their discipline was not so good as it should be. All

these things, he said, must be put right, and, as there was no time

like the present, he put his preaching into practice right away in the

support positions in Bois Confluent.

There followed such a craze for cleaning up clothing and equipment as

had not been known for many months, and all ranks entered into the new

spirit with enthusiasm. Ten rough days in front line trenches around

the gates of the White Château grounds on the Hollebeke Road, where

the Germans shelled all day and every day, and where one side or the

other carried out a raid nearly every night, ended in the Battalion

being relieved on the night of the 24th of June by the 18th King’s

Royal Rifles, and moving to Carnarvon Camp, near Westoutre, one of the

most uncomfortable camps occupied by the Civil Service Rifles during

the war.

After one day’s rest the work of “restoration” was resumed, and

vigorous “spit and polish” was indulged in for three days before the

Commanding Officer inspected the Battalion. In a breezy speech he said

he could already see a distinct improvement, and he felt sure a further

improvement would follow.

On the 30th of July the Civil Service Rifles became the envied of all

the other units in the Division as they marched to Wippenhoek Siding

near Abeele, and entrained for St. Omer, whence a short march brought

them to Tatinghem. Here the Battalion was to carry out a training

programme, consisting chiefly of musketry on the 2nd Army ranges near

Moulle.

* * * * *

In his work of revival, there is no doubt that Colonel Parish had

everything in his favour. In the first place he had sole command of the

unit and was not worried by any orders from either Brigade or Division.

The training was to be done entirely under the Commanding Officer’s own

arrangements, the only condition laid down being that every one must

have musketry practice on the range. In the second place the Battalion

was sent to a pleasantly situated training area many miles from the

firing line, and thirdly the billets were excellent--in many cases

better than the men had ever had before in France. Practically every

sergeant, at least, had a real bed in an inhabited house.

In these circumstances it would have been strange indeed if all ranks

had not responded wholeheartedly to the call of their Commanding

Officer, whose enthusiasm quickly spread throughout the Battalion.

It is true the “spit and polish” days of General Cuthbert were put

into the shade by the scrubbing and polishing which were indulged in

from morning till night in the early days at Tatinghem, and all the

time-honoured jokes and gags about Bluebell Metal Polish, Kiwi, etc.,

were literally worked to death. Men groused and joked alternately about

the new craze, and one wag chalked up on a billet door a colourable

imitation of the Regimental crest, beneath which he had substituted

the words “Ich Posh” for the actual motto. Thanks to the inclement

weather, there was no chance during the first few days to do anything

but remain in billets and “clean up,” and when eventually the rain

ceased and Colonel Parish saw his Battalion on parade, he was so proud

of the men that he spent a good deal of his spare time thereafter in

persuading General Officers and others to come and inspect them. The

Civil Service Rifles, in consequence, underwent inspections during

this holiday by General Plumer (twice), Brigadier-General Kennedy, and

Brigadier-General Bailey, in addition to numerous inspections by the

Commanding Officer. The men endured these ordeals with little or no

grousing--for they had now learnt to take a proper pride in their smart

appearance.

The Commanding Officer’s chief worry was lack of a parade ground where

he could drill his battalion, and the Adjutant was ordered to find

one. It was in vain that he said the local farmers objected to their

pasture being ruined by the tramping of army boots, so eventually he

discovered a field without a gate to it, and hoped the farmer would

not turn up during battalion drill. The farmer did not appear himself,

but his wife came on parade and protested so loudly to the Adjutant

that the Commanding Officer exclaimed in a loud voice “Send that woman

off parade. This is not a woman’s battalion.” This brilliant sally,

however, was wasted on the woman, who continued to protest volubly--and

those who have heard a French peasant woman when she is roused will

realise how difficult it was to induce her to leave the field.

The great day of the training was the Regimental Rifle Meeting, run

almost on Bisley lines, which was held on the ranges at Moulle, on the

6th of August. Prizes were offered for the best sergeant and the best

corporal in the Battalion, for the best private in each Company, and

for each member of the Platoon having the highest average. In addition,

all prize winners were to have a day’s leave.

The Prize Meeting was a great success, and the keenest interest was

taken in the competitions, on which there were various sweepstakes,

while, in addition, two members of the Battalion “made a book” on one

of the competitions, their most profitable dupe being the Commanding

Officer himself.

“C” Company appear to have swept the board as far as Platoon averages

went, as two of their Platoons took the first two places, and one

other tied with numbers eight (“B” Company) and thirteen (“D” Company)

for third place. The following received silver wrist watches suitably

engraved for the occasion:--

_Best Sergeant in the Battalion_:

Sergeant H. Salmon - ‘C’ Company.

_Best Corporal_:

Corporal O. L. H. Levey - ‘C’ Company.

_Best Privates_:

‘A’ Company - Privates L. W. V. Wilkinson and H. A.

Vernham, tied.

‘B’ Company - Private W. J. Tuckett.

‘C’ Company - Privates E. A. Honney and A. Strong

tied.

‘D’ Company - Private F. T. G. White.

The Officers’ competition was won by Second-Lieutenant G. E.

Tatum, ‘C’ Company.

Shortly after the Rifle Meeting the Battalion became attached to the

142nd Brigade, and this caused a move to Moringhem, but after two

General Officers’ inspections in four days the Civil Service Rifles,

to their great joy, returned to their old billets, the 140th Brigade

having been sent to the Tatinghem area for training.

The puzzle so far had been the absence of the marked-out or “flagged”

course, and speculation was rife as to how soon the familiar signs

would appear on the training ground, but beyond practising an advance

(through fields of cut corn) in what the Commanding Officer called

lines of “worms,” no very warlike movements were undertaken, nor was

there any mention of a coming operation. So the holiday at Tatinghem

came to an end without any rehearsing of a set piece which had been

such a conspicuous feature of former holidays of this kind.

Just before leaving Tatinghem, a mild interest was taken in the

appearance on parade of a second Colonel, wearing the uniform of a

Scottish regiment, who inspected the Battalion on the 23rd of August,

and thereafter did not miss a parade. There were numerous speculations

as to who was this unassuming-looking fellow in the Scotch cap, and

what did he want, but no one guessed what a great part he was soon to

play in the history of the Regiment.

A seemingly endless column of motor buses and lorries took the 140th

Brigade back to the war on the 24th of August, and the Civil Service

Rifles occupied Vancouver Camp, which seemed dreadfully uncomfortable

after the luxury of Tatinghem. The accommodation was poor, and the

day was cold with a biting wind howling and blowing the dust over

everything. The troops experienced very much the same kind of feeling

as on return to a City office after a month at the seaside or in the

country, and before turning in for the night a rumour went round that

the Division would very soon attack Polygon and Glencorse Woods, beyond

Westhoek Ridge. Pleasant dreams!

CHAPTER XVII

LAST DAYS IN THE YPRES SALIENT

As a sequel to overnight rumours, all officers were taken the next day

to study a ground plan of the country from Passchendaele to Westhoek

Ridge--an excellent model of what had now become the most famous

battlefield on the western front. The parts which specially interested

the Civil Service Rifles were the wood known as Nonne Boschen and

Glencorse Wood. In the afternoon the N.C.O.’s were taken to see the

model, and it was explained to them that they were soon to attack the

positions in the two woods mentioned. These had been captured more than

once during the past week or two, but in each case the captors had been

pushed back by a German counter-attack.

The next step followed at a very early hour the morning after, when

a party of officers boarded a bus outside camp, and long before

daylight were deposited outside the Asylum at Ypres. Crossing the now

world-famous city, they passed out at the Menin Gate and down the

dreaded Menin Road to Hooge, whence they made a general reconnaissance

of the country from Bellewarde Ridge over Westhoek Ridge. The situation

in the front line seemed a trifle obscure, and those holding it did

not altogether cheer their visitors up when discussing the proposed

attack. It certainly surprised the said visitors to learn that one

group of old gun pits, where they were supposed to assemble for their

attack, was being held by the Bosches. This news, however, did not

have any serious effect on the scheme, and the following day a party

of N.C.O.’s accompanied the Adjutant on a similar reconnaissance. Rain

poured in torrents from start to finish, and it is feared that the

party, absolutely wet through to the skin, did not display very great

enthusiasm for their work that day.

There followed a lecture by the Commanding Officer in the Vancouver

Theatre on the coming attack. The Army School lecturer of these days

still laboured under the delusion that the assaulting infantry in an

attack arrived at the objective in waves, in spite of ditches, water

jumps, barbed wire or other obstacles. To hear him talk of the attack

it all seemed so easy, that one could only wonder why it had not been

done before--preferably by the staff of an Army School.

Colonel Parish, who had been an instructor at the Senior Officers’

School at Aldershot earlier in the year, contrived to instil his

optimism into the troops, who entered on the flagged course rehearsals

the next day with considerable enthusiasm. Even the two men of “C”

Company who were detailed to wade through a marsh, said to exist in No

Man’s Land, were heard to joke about their “chances.”

Consequently the troops, although not generally bellicose, were almost

eager for the fray, as there was a distinct feeling among them that

something big should be done to justify the recent holiday. Thus it

came about that members of the Battalion were heard to say that they

were looking forward to the battle. This attitude was certainly a

novelty, for although there was never a lack of volunteers for any

enterprise, however dangerous, nor was there ever any disposition to

“swing it” before a battle, it had for a long time been the practice

to look askance at any man who claimed to be keen on a fight. The

recognised attitude in public circles, both on the part of officers and

other ranks, was that of a pacifist. “Live and let live” was claimed

as their motto by some of the most zealous soldiers, simply because

they hated the idea of being dubbed “fire-eaters,” and often a most

gallant fighter would be one who asserted loudly that he was always

very “windy,” to use popular parlance, or that there was nothing he

dreaded more than going over the top. However, on the occasion referred

to, officers and men were more honest, and most, if not all, readily

asserted their keenness for the difficult and somewhat complicated form

of attack which they were soon to undertake in the neighbourhood of

Westhoek Ridge.

The rehearsals over the marked-out course went on from day to day,

sometimes in the presence of the Divisional Commander, Major-General

Gorringe, and nearly always in the presence of the Brigade Commander,

Brigadier-General Kennedy, with various members of the gilded staff

in the offing. Still, the Civil Service Rifles, equipped with two

Lieutenant-Colonels, and fired with enthusiasm, disarmed criticism,

and the Generals regarded Glencorse Wood and the curiously-named Nonne

Boschen (Nuns’ Wood) as practically captured. They had, however,

reckoned without the weather.

The big offensive which took place in the Ypres Salient from July to

September, 1917, is remembered more by the atrocious weather which

accompanied it throughout--and finally ruined it--than by any other

feature. Hopes had run high, as details of the ambitious scheme leaked

out, that this great push was going to hasten very considerably the

end of the war. The Bosche evidently feared that such might be the

result, to judge from the stubborn resistance he put up, and the number

of big guns he brought to bear on the district, and it was the eternal

shelling during these three months, combined with what was probably a

record in bad weather even for France, which caused men ever after to

speak with bated breath of “Passchendaele.”

To have been through Passchendaele was regarded as having endured the

most severe trial of the war, but “Passchendaele” when referred to in

this connection, included not only the little village of that name and

the ridge adjoining it, but the whole of the devastated area in the

Ypres Salient where the fighting was so keen during the last wretched

months of the so-called summer of 1917. Passchendaele, therefore, can

be stretched to include Glencorse and Polygon Woods and the Westhoek

Ridge, for here the full fury of this terrible battle against the

combined forces of the Bosche and the weather was felt, and as far as

the Civil Service Rifles were concerned, they were knocked out by the

weather before they reached the “starting gate.”

Throughout the last few days of August the rain fell almost

continuously. The marsh referred to, through which two men had to wade,

had now become a pond, and the rest of the country on Westhoek Ridge

had become a sea of mud. The attack, after being postponed from day

to day, was finally abandoned on the 31st of August, when the advance

party, under the Adjutant, was actually on parade ready to start for

the trenches. A limber containing medical stores, signalling equipment,

etc., had already been despatched for the Menin Road, where it was to

await the advance party. The advance party was dismissed, the limber

brought back, and later in the evening it became known that the attack

was definitely abandoned so far as the 47th Division was concerned.

The news created something akin to consternation in the Battalion,

where the men felt the keenest disappointment at the loss of such an

opportunity to prove their worth, but none felt it more keenly than

Colonel Parish. It transpired that he had not recovered from his head

wound received on the Somme in 1916,[14] and he was therefore to return

to England, but he had succeeded in persuading the authorities to allow

him to see this battle through before going away. It thus came as a

very bitter blow to him, who had devoted so much energy and zeal to

improving the fighting spirit, that he should have to leave without

ever having commanded his Battalion in the front line.

[14] This wound contributed to his untimely death on 9th Oct., 1921. He

is buried at Hawarden.

His grief was shared by all ranks in the Battalion, for although he had

only been in command for six weeks, he had worked a wonderful change,

and had inspired every one by his enthusiasm for the Civil Service

Rifles.

There was not an officer, N.C.O. or man who had served under him who

did not feel how very much the Regiment owed to Colonel Parish. It had

been a real pleasure to serve under him in any capacity, and there was

a genuine and universal regret felt at his departure. The benefit of

his six weeks’ command was felt in the Battalion throughout the rest of

the war.

Colonel Parish said good-bye on parade on the 23rd of September, when

he told the men how sorry he was to go, but assured them all that it

was only for a little while, for he would be back as soon as the powers

that be would allow him. He felt sure that when that time came, Colonel

Segrave, to whom he was handing over his command, would be able to tell

him that this was still the finest Battalion in the Division.

This, then, was the explanation of the “quiet, unobtrusive Colonel

in the Scotch cap” who had been living with the Civil Service Rifles

for the past fortnight. He had a difficult task before him, coming as

he did, after one who had become such a hot favourite with all under

his command. Colonel Segrave did not start off with the “new broom”

tactics, for there was very little that he wished to alter, and it was

his desire to continue on the lines of his predecessor. He told the

Battalion, when he took his first parade on the 4th of September, how

proud he was to be given command of the Civil Service Rifles, but it is

safe to say that not even he guessed how great was to be his love for

this Regiment before the end of his régime.

Very soon afterwards the Battalion relieved the 2nd South Lancashire

Battalion in support trenches round about Hooge and Château Wood on

the Menin Road, and here were spent the last seven days of the eleven

months’ sojourn in the Ypres Salient. The experience of these seven

days was a fitting conclusion to all that had been endured in the past

year, for they were days during which the Salient lived up to its worst

reputation.

The relief of the 2nd South Lancashires was carried out in daylight on

the 9th of September, and the Bosches welcomed the change by indulging

in a general bombardment of the area, which caused a few casualties in

“A” Company before they reached their new positions.

The Battalion was disposed round about the site of the village of

Hooge. There were no trenches, although there were several marked on

the map, and the sole accommodation was found in old concrete shelters

which until recently had housed the Germans. “A” Company, however,

occupied part of the Menin tunnel, which had once been a triumph of

German field engineering. This ran underneath the Menin Road, and

inside had been a trench tramway, along which the enemy stores and

rations had been brought up. The main signal lines also ran along, and

it was noticed that these had been neatly pinned into the walls of the

tunnel--in contrast to the English method of laying lines criss-cross

along open trenches in such a manner as to catch the occupants across

the throat. This method of fixing lines, so common throughout the

British area, caused more bad language on a dark night than any other

provocation in France.

[Illustration]

The Menin tunnel may have been a safe refuge in the early days of its

existence, but now it was in a deplorable condition. Daylight was

admitted at very frequent intervals by the huge gaping holes caused by

the heavy artillery of both sides, but in spite of these the atmosphere

inside was almost overpowering, and the protection from shell fire was

purely imaginary.

Gas shells were scattered freely over the area both day and night, and

the casualties increased each day. During the bombardment of the night

of the 11th of September, Lance-Corporal Foote, of the Headquarters

Pioneers, distinguished himself by carrying a wounded man from the

ruins in Château Wood occupied by Battalion Headquarters right down the

Menin Road to the dressing station at the famous Birr cross roads.

The discomforts increased each day, and the bombardments of the

main track to the front line--the Kanwan track, which had formerly

taken place at regular times each day, now became more frequent and

irregular. The whole Battalion made the perilous journey along this

track nearly every day, for huge carrying parties had to be provided

to carry R. E. material and ammunition up to Clapham Junction--the

Headquarters of the front line Battalion. There were many signs of the

recent advance to be seen on the way to Clapham Junction, the most

noticeable being a mass of ruined tanks which looked as though they had

all been put out of action in trying to mount the embankment along a

part of the Menin Road.

On the 15th of September began a series of practice barrages, and the

long-suffering infantry now had to endure the retaliation in addition

to other bombardments. Following one of the practice barrages the 7th

Battalion, holding the front line, sent forward a party and captured

a strong point. “C” Company, under Captain L. L. Burtt, went up at

night to work for them, and their journey along Kanwan Track ranks as

one of the worst experiences of the Company during the war. Misfortune

befell the party from the start, and the intense shelling combined

with the pitch-black darkness of the night caused the journey to

Clapham Junction to degenerate into a scramble. This was practically

the closing incident in the eleven months spent in the Ypres Salient,

for on the following afternoon the 2nd Australian Infantry Battalion

arrived, and the Civil Service Rifles made their way down the Menin

Road, strewn with all the débris of war, with here and there a dead

horse, and so to Château Segard, where one night was spent before

marching to the village of Steenvoorde and saying good-bye for ever to

the hated Ypres Salient.

The departure from the Salient was not without its thrills for the

Lewis Gunners, who had been left with their guns on the Menin Road near

Hooge awaiting the limbers. These had to pass a corner on the Ypres

side of Birr Cross Roads known as Hell Fire Corner, and it so happened

on this evening that the spot was justifying its name, for it had been

shelled so heavily that the dump of R.E. material and ammunition by the

roadside was all ablaze--thus completely shutting off the Transport.

This state of affairs lasted for some hours, but Sergeant Sladden

solved the difficulty by taking his limbers round by a devious route

through Zillebeke, and eventually got the limbers away without loss.

The Transport Section had had many exciting trips along the Menin Road,

and they were proud of the fact that they were able to leave the Ypres

Salient without having lost a horse in that area.

CHAPTER XVIII

ANOTHER REST CURE. GAVRELLE AND OPPY

The long march to Steenvoorde--17 miles--was endured cheerfully by all

ranks, who were overjoyed at leaving Belgium. It was felt that whatever

the new area was like, it would not be worse than the experience of

the past few weeks. What a tremendous change from the haven of rest of

eleven months ago! There were many who would even prefer to go through

the Somme experience of a year ago rather than return to the Menin Road.

Those who had been left out as “non-starters” for the battle which did

not take place rejoined at Eecke, a little village near Caestre, where

two days were spent before the Battalion entrained at Caestre shortly

after midnight on the 22nd of September, and started in the best of

spirits for the Arras front.

After resting for two nights at the delightful village of

Frevin-Capelle, near the source of the Scarpe, a short march in

delightful weather brought the Civil Service Rifles to Aubrey Camp--a

camp of Nissen huts and tents on the Lens-Arras Road near Roclincourt.

A night spent in Aubrey Camp was followed by a march to the front line

at Gavrelle where old friends were found in the Drake Battalion of the

63rd (Naval) Division. This Battalion had been attached to the Civil

Service Rifles for instruction in trench warfare at Souchez in June

1916.

There followed a spell of peace and quiet which compared very

favourably even with the early days at Ypres. The absence of shelling

was very noticeable and the trenches were clean and dry. Moreover there

was an occasional deep dug-out and as the ground was chalky--it was

the southern extremity of Vimy Ridge--more were to be dug by the Royal

Engineers. There were never many deep dug-outs in English trenches, but

whenever the ground was suitable there were always a good many either

under construction or proposed.

There was a good water supply from a well in the trenches, and rations

were brought to within 100 yards of Battalion Headquarters, and the

Battalion held the front line for eight days without showing any sign

of wear. Everyone was happy, except perhaps the energetic Commanding

Officer, who wanted to get on with the war. He had little or no use

for the quiet life of Gavrelle and seemed happier amid the turmoil of

the Ypres Salient.

It was intended that the Division should make a long stay in this

sector, and elaborate plans for a winter scheme of defence were made by

the Divisional Commander. As in the Ypres Salient, a Battalion when out

at rest was always to occupy the same camp--in order to encourage the

men to work on camp improvements. The Civil Service Rifles accordingly

set to work on Aubrey Camp, and Colonel Segrave claims that his men

laid more trench boards per acre than could be found at any other place

on the Western front. He also established the Battalion Baths, so

that henceforth the Civil Service Rifles would be independent of the

Divisional Baths Officer.

Football matches, trips to Arras, and the concerts given by the

Divisional Follies were the chief diversions, and, at the end of

October, a very successful Regimental concert was held in the

Divisional Cinema, the surprise turn of the evening being the R.S.M.’s

rendering of “Take me back to dear old Blighty.”

The good spirits of the troops were further raised by a very welcome

increase in the leave allotment, which for some time had been very

poor, and all leave records were broken on the 6th of November when a

party of sixty other ranks left by the light railway from Roclincourt

en route for “Blighty.”

The Transport and Quartermaster’s Stores were housed in Roclincourt in

the most comfortable billets they had had for some months. It was here

that the Transport Section received a shock in the shape of a comb-out

by the Commanding Officer. Colonel Segrave was a keen student of man

power, and in investigating the strength of his Battalion, he found the

Transport Section considerably overstaffed, with the result that eleven

of them rejoined their Companies in the trenches.

The sectors of the front line held by the Civil Service Rifles were

alternately the Gavrelle Sector, and the posts just south of Oppy Wood.

Of these the Gavrelle sector was much the more popular, though neither

could compare with the support positions in the Railway Cutting and

Roundhay Camp, just by the Arras-Bailleul Road.

It was while at Roundhay Camp that the peaceful life was disturbed

by startling rumours of a move to another front, and on the 15th of

November, weight was given to the rumours by the sudden closing of the

Brigade School. Leave, it was said, was stopped, and amid consternation

groups of men gathered all over the camp to discuss the situation,

those who wanted to be funny talking of ice cream and stilettos--for it

was understood the Division was bound for Italy.

The “holiday” in the Arras district came to an abrupt end on the 18th

of November, when the 13th East Yorks Battalion arrived, and the Civil

Service Rifles left by Light Railway, and after a merry trip in the toy

train, reached a camp of French huts at Ecoivres. There, in spite of

rumours, a party of thirty other ranks went on leave, but speculation

was rife as to whether they would complete their full time.

A few days were spent at Ecoivres, with many football matches, which

included a Rugby trial match on the 20th of November. Interest in the

Rugby match was diverted by the news, which arrived during the game,

of the brilliant success of the 3rd Army near Cambrai. The attack had

been kept secret, and the news came as a great surprise. It was said

the Hindenburg Line was broken, the cavalry and tanks were pursuing

the retreating enemy, and Cambrai itself would soon fall. In fact, the

war would soon be over. Orders received that night for a move on the

morrow gave rise to further speculation as to the destination of the

Division, and at the “calling over of the card” in the Officers’ Mess,

the betting was evens Cambrai, 6-4 Italy, and 100-1 England.

* * * * *

The movements of the Division during the last ten days of November,

1917, were such as would baffle the keenest member of the enemy

Intelligence Department. Units appeared to be moving from one village

to another with no particular object in view, and during the first few

days of the trek from Ecoivres the Battalion Commanders themselves had

no idea whether they were bound for Italy or the Cambrai front. The

Civil Service Rifles started with a succession of short marches, and

as a rule the billets were poor and the villages somewhat squalid.

There was, however, little time to “grouse,” for the order to move

on was usually received before the men had time to look round. After

a night in billets at Hermaville and a night of extreme discomfort

in dilapidated huts at Wanquetin, the village of Gouy en Artois was

reached, where it was learnt that the Division was now in the Fifth

Corps (3rd Army) and it was evident therefore that the move to Italy

was “off.”

On the 24th of November the Battalion occupied a hutted camp in

Courcelles le Comte, a ruined village won from the Bosches during their

winter retreat of 1916. The roads and hamlets in this district were

still clearly marked with the big signboards erected during the German

occupation, and at one end of Courcelles could be seen the remains of a

German cinema or theatre.

The camp itself had been built by English troops, and had at one

time been a well laid out camp of Nissen huts; but now it was the

abomination of desolation. The linings of the huts had been torn off

for firewood, the windows were broken, the doors torn off their hinges,

and every hut was strewn with rubbish. Fortunately only one night was

spent in these conditions, and the march was resumed the next afternoon.

The march to Le Transloy on the 25th of November was unique. For the

first hour everything went well, but from that time onwards the column

was rarely on the move for more than ten minutes every hour. The usual

order of things was thus reversed, and instead of a ten minutes halt in

every hour, there was a ten minutes march per hour. Every road leading

into Bapaume was choked with troops, and a perspiring A.P.M. was trying

to sort out those bound for the front from those coming out into

reserve.

Tea was served in the twilight on the Bapaume Road, and the next halt

found the Battalion in the main street of the town. There were some

there who had hoped to see Bapaume in 1916, but although they had ample

opportunity to admire the ruins in the bright moonlight, they had

now lost all interest in their surroundings, and many passed through

without even knowing the name of the place.

Thoroughly fed up, the troops reached their camp shortly before

midnight, and to crown a very miserable day they were so frightfully

crowded into the huts that they could scarcely find room to lie down.

“Posh Harry” was almost speechless when he saw his billet. “What I want

to know,” he spluttered, “is where did the R.S.M. of the Guards sleep

last night? They say the Guards were here, but I’m sure their R.S.M.

would not sleep in there.”

The discomfort of that camp, however, was eclipsed on the night of

the 27th of November, when the Battalion bivouacked in a field of

rich creamy mud at Doignies, the journey from Le Transloy having been

made by bus to Velu, and thence by route march, each man carrying his

blanket over his arm.

CHAPTER XIX

BOURLON WOOD AND THE HINDENBURG LINE

Two of the most serious checks to the 3rd Army advance on Cambrai were

the villages of Bourlon and Fontaine Notre Dame, respectively at the

north-west and south-east corners of Bourlon Wood. The latter village,

too, was almost at the entrance to Cambrai on the Bapaume-Cambrai road.

Both these villages had been captured towards the end of November, but

were afterwards retaken. The Guards Division, who had preceded the 47th

Division, accordingly attacked them again, and before the Civil Service

Rifles left Le Transloy it was learned that the attack had succeeded,

though the enemy very soon recaptured both villages once more.

It was understood, however, that the English advance was to continue,

and when the Civil Service Rifles reached Doignies, the battle surplus

had already been sent back to the Divisional Reinforcement Camp. As the

situation in the front line underwent such frequent changes, there had

been nothing in the nature of a rehearsal of the coming battle, which

it was expected would be more in the nature of open warfare than had

been any of the previous operations of the 47th Division.

On arriving at Doignies, Colonel Segrave received orders for his

Battalion to occupy part of the Hindenburg Line on the following day

(the 28th), and at a very early hour, he started with his Adjutant,

Medical Officer, Signals Officer and four Company Commanders for the

Headquarters of the front line brigade. The Battalion, in fighting

order, moved off later in the morning and occupied a part of the

Hindenburg Line nearly due west of Graincourt.

At Brigade Headquarters Colonel Segrave learnt that he was to relieve

one of the Cavalry regiments holding the front line in Bourlon

Wood, but the date of relief was not then settled. He therefore

took his party across country, passing within a hundred yards or

so of Graincourt, across sunken roads, to a sugar factory on the

Bapaume-Cambrai road, where it was understood a guide would be found.

Leaving the sugar factory, many signs of the recent advance were

seen, German equipment, rifles and ammunition being scattered almost

everywhere. Derelict English tanks and aeroplanes were also to be seen,

and the landscape generally presented a desolate picture.

The Cavalry Headquarters occupied what had been a pretty chalet in a

delightful spot in the middle of the wood--an ideal place for a summer

picnic. There was no suggestion of a summer picnic about it now,

however, for the bitter fighting of the past few days had left its mark

everywhere, and in and around the chalet were gathered weary warriors,

eagerly awaiting the news of their relief.

[Illustration: SKETCH MAP TO ILLUSTRATE THE MOVEMENTS OF THE C.S.R.

FROM 28 NOV. 1917 TO 6 DEC. 1917]

The members of the reconnoitring party had only just thrown off their

equipment for a rest when it was found that they had been brought to

the wrong place, so, dispensing with the doubtful services of a guide,

Colonel Segrave led his officers through the wood in search of some

one willing to be relieved by his Battalion. The right place was found

to be in a small German dug-out in the road leading to the village

of Bourlon along the western edge of the wood, and here the Colonel,

learning that he was to take over that night the positions held by the

2nd Dismounted Cavalry Brigade and the 2nd/5th West Yorks Battalion,

made his dispositions and set off with his Adjutant and Medical Officer

to find his Battalion in the Hindenburg Line. The Company Commanders

remained behind to look round their respective fronts.

On his way back, Colonel Segrave surprised a member of the R.A.M.C.

at a dressing station by begging from him a tin of bully beef and a

biscuit. The spectacle of a Colonel eating bully beef was too much for

the R.A.M.C. man, who stared after the three officers as though he had

seen ghosts.

A long wait for orders in the Hindenburg Line ended in the Battalion

moving off without any at 9.0 p.m. There was a bright moon, and the

night was perfectly quiet at the start, when there was nothing to

suggest the exciting time that was in store for the troops before they

were to arrive at the front line. But on reaching the Relay Post on

the Cambrai road, where the guides and Company Commanders were to have

been, the head of the Battalion became enveloped in a barrage of gas

shells. The rest of the journey was what is known as “windy” in the

extreme. Gas masks had to be worn, and in pushing through the barrage,

some casualties were suffered, one platoon of “C” Company losing very

heavily after passing Battalion Headquarters.

The relief was complete at about 2.0 a.m., and except for gas shelling

the situation became much quieter.

“B” and “D” Companies held the front line, the former, under Lieutenant

C. M. Kilner, being on the left, just outside the southern edge of the

village, and with half a Company on each side of the road leading from

Battalion Headquarters to the village. “D” Company, under Captain R.

Middleton, connected with the right of “B” and held a position inside

the wood and about 300 yards south-east of the village. “D” Company

Headquarters was in a most palatial deep-dug out which had formerly

been the Headquarters of a German artillery brigade. “C” Company, under

Captain T. H. Sharratt, was in support near “D”. Soon after taking up

their positions, both “B” and “D” Companies sent out patrols towards

the village, but although Lieutenant W. E. Hoste took his patrol into

the village, and entered one or two houses, no Bosches were found.

The quiet night was followed by a distinctly noisy day, throughout

which the enemy heavily bombarded the front line positions, the whole

of the wood, and the roads all round the outside of the wood.

In the middle of the morning, the Brigadier arrived with the

news that there would be no further advance, and that the positions

now being held were to be consolidated. “A” Company, who were in

reserve, under Lieutenant L. C. Morris, M.C., round about Battalion

Headquarters, accordingly spent the rest of the day in carrying barbed

wire, pickets, sandbags and ammunition from a dump at the cross roads

known as Anneux Chapel to a forward dump near Battalion Headquarters.

The casualties during the day amounted to one officer and no less than

fifty four other ranks--a pretty heavy toll for a day when no attack

took place!

[Illustration: BOURLON WOOD FROM SOUTH-WEST CORNER, 1917.

_To face page 164._]

In the opinion of those holding the line, the decision not to advance

any further was unnecessary--it was felt that the Battalion might well

be engaged very soon in defensive rather than offensive operations, and

some such idea was in the mind of Colonel Segrave as he went round the

Battalion front that day.

Any remaining doubts as to the enemy intentions were dispersed on

the morning of the 30th of November, which opened with an intense

bombardment from German guns of every calibre. Smoke barrages were

put down on the flanks of the intended attack, and before long the

enemy infantry could be seen advancing in many waves from the country

beyond Bourlon village. The Battalion was not in signal communication

with anybody, either Brigade Headquarters or adjoining units, and the

Commanding Officer had therefore to rely on the services of runners and

four pigeons. According to the rules of the signal service, pigeons had

to be despatched in pairs, so the stock was only good for two messages.

When it is mentioned that it took a good runner well over an hour to

reach Brigade, the state of isolation of the Battalion will be realised.

The battle raged throughout the morning without any infantry engagement

on the front held by the Civil Service Rifles, though S.O.S. rockets

were seen on several occasions on adjoining sections of the line.

Company Commanders reported that the attack appeared to be directed

on the sectors held on each side of them, but up to midday they had

not been interfered with. The waves of enemy infantry had advanced

diagonally across their front, and both “B” and “D” Companies had put

in some excellent work with rifles and Lewis guns. The enemy, however,

was extraordinarily well served by his low-flying aeroplanes, which

seemed to swarm like bees over the Battalion area, and the machine-gun

fire from these caused a good many casualties during the day.

Prominent among the early incidents of the battle was the performance

of Lance Corporal S. Fletcher of the Battalion scouts, and a “D”

Company runner who brought the first report from the front line to

Battalion Headquarters. The distance they had to cover was more than

a mile over very rough country, but in their anxiety to deliver the

result of their observations as quickly as possible they ran the

whole way, although fully equipped, and carrying rifles. The effort

proved too much for the runner, who collapsed on reaching Battalion

Headquarters, and fell unconscious down the stairs of the dug-out

without being able to deliver his message. The N.C.O. was little better

off, but after a time he recovered sufficiently to be able to give a

good account of what was going on.

Soon after midday the S.O.S. signal was seen on the Battalion front,

and it was reported that a gap had been made in the Brigade front on

the left of the line held by “B” Company.

The Support Company, “C,” led by 2nd Lieutenant C. V. Marchant, had by

this time moved up to reinforce “B” and “D” Companies, who had both

suffered heavy losses. The remnants of the left platoon of “B” Company,

finding the line originally held by the Battalion on their left to be

unoccupied, pushed along to try to find touch. Instead of finding their

friends, however, they found Bosches in large numbers, who appeared

to come from all sides, with the result that about ten of the Civil

Service Rifles were taken prisoners.

Lieutenant Kilner, observing the enemy in the left rear of the

Battalion front, gathered the rest of his Company together and formed

a defensive flank in the sunken road on the Western edge of the wood.

Meanwhile, Colonel Segrave formed up the personnel of Battalion

Headquarters and his reserve Company, “A,” and led them in two waves

across the open country outside the wood. Leaving the vicinity of

Battalion Headquarters at about 4.0 p.m., they advanced through heavy

fire from rifles, machine guns, and low-flying aeroplanes, and although

they suffered many casualties, they succeeded before dusk in restoring

the line as originally held, and later in the evening established touch

on the left with the Post Office Rifles, who had come up from Brigade

Reserve to reinforce the line. The example set by their Commanding

Officer inspired the men of the Civil Service Rifles with such

confidence and enthusiasm, that they carried out their advance as at

a Salisbury Plain manœuvre, the Colonel, with a map in one hand and a

whistle in the other, giving his directions by signal.

Colonel Segrave’s prompt action was specially commended in a pamphlet

afterwards published by General Headquarters entitled “The Story of a

Great Fight,” and those who were with him on that day regard it as the

finest example of leadership in the history of the Battalion. There was

nothing theatrical about the affair--it was just done in the calm and

methodical manner in which Colonel Segrave always behaved in the front

line.

[Illustration:

_Photo by Langfier, Ltd._

LT.-COL. W. H. E. SEGRAVE, D.S.O. (H.L.I.)

Commanded 1st Battalion, 3rd September, 1917, to 6th August, 1918.

_To face page 166._]

The effects of the continuous gas shelling during the past three days

had told heavily on the Battalion--particularly the Headquarters

Company and “A” Company. Of the Headquarters Officers, Colonel Segrave

was the only one remaining on the night of the 30th of November, and

during the day he had lost no less than four Adjutants, the last one

being an Artillery Liaison Officer whom he had converted into an

infantryman. The other ranks of Headquarters fared no better, but the

losses in the Companies holding the front line were heavier still, and

when the 1st Surrey Rifles arrived on the night of the 1st of December,

and the Civil Service Rifles moved back into tents at Femy Wood near

Havrincourt, the losses in Bourlon Wood were found to be 12 officers,

278 other ranks. At Femy Wood it was found that the Colonel himself was

badly gassed, and he too left for hospital on the 2nd of December.

Although it is not possible here to pay just tribute to those gallant

fellows individually, special mention must be made of the great loss

the Battalion suffered by the death of three of its members who had

already done great things, and who would have risen to higher rank in

the Regiment before long had they been spared.

C.S.M. Mansbridge, of “D” Company, was as gallant in the front line

as he was smart and efficient on the parade ground. An old member of

the Regiment who thoroughly understood his brother Warrant Officers,

N.C.O.’s, and men, he would undoubtedly have made an ideal Regimental

Sergeant Major for the Civil Service Rifles.

Sergeant H. L. Smith, who was acting C.S.M. of “A” Company, had a

multitude of friends in all Companies. As “Inky” Smith he had been one

of the shining lights of the Lewis gunners, of whom he was one of the

first members. He had fought with distinction at Vimy Ridge, and on the

Somme, and, like Mansbridge, he was a “17th of March man.” Both were

men who quickly won the respect of all who served with them.

Second Lieutenant C. V. Marchant, of “C” Company, was a comparatively

young member of the Regiment. Not yet twenty years old, he had just

completed a year’s service with the Battalion in France, and during

that time he had become very popular with the men of “C” Company, with

whom he had served gallantly in the Ypres Salient, and particularly

at the battle of Messines. He was cool in battle, keen and fearless.

He met his death while leading his Company through the awful barrage

of shells and machine gun bullets, but he faced it unflinchingly. The

Battalion could ill afford to lose such an officer, who in spite of his

youth would soon have made an excellent Company Commander.

“C” Company also lost two valuable members in C.S.M. F. C. Robertson,

D.C.M., who was severely wounded on the 29th of November, and Sergeant

O. L. H. Levey, wounded on the 30th. Both were “17th of March men,” and

Robertson had been a member of the Regiment for many years before the

war. He was a quiet unassuming fellow, who was never found wanting, and

who was never “rattled” even under the greatest provocation and in the

most trying circumstances.

Sergeant Levey was a most enthusiastic member of the Regiment who

had distinguished himself by his skill with the rifle. Fortunately

he recovered sufficiently from his wounds to return to the Regiment

some months later, when he quickly rose to the rank of C.S.M. of his

Company. His prowess in the football field gained him fame not only in

the Battalion, but throughout the Division.

In addition to the fighting portion of the Battalion, the Transport

Section and Quartermaster’s staff suffered casualties in and around

Bourlon Wood, the Quartermaster himself, Lieutenant W. G. Hodge, better

known as “Ben Hodge,” being gassed on the night of the 29th November

while at Battalion Headquarters. On the same night the Transport Column

was heavily shelled on the Bapaume-Cambrai Road, with the result that

several of the most experienced drivers and horses were wounded.

But in spite of the heavy casualties in Bourlon Wood, and the fact

that the enemy bombardment was the most severe and prolonged that the

Battalion was called upon to face during the war, the men of the Civil

Service Rifles could look back with justifiable pride on their share in

the battle, during which they did not yield an inch of ground, although

the Bosches gained considerable success in neighbouring parts of the

line.

The remnants of the Battalion numbered only about 200, all ranks, when

they reached Femy Wood on the 2nd of December with scarcely a kick left

in them after their exertions of the past few days, and it came as a

great surprise when they had to return to the front line on the 4th of

December reinforced by a handful of officers and other ranks from the

“non-starters’ camp.”

In order to cover the withdrawal of the 142nd Infantry Brigade from

Bourlon Wood, a defensive position on either side of the village of

Graincourt was taken up, and there, on the 5th and 6th of December, the

Battalion gave yet another exhibition of splendid fighting qualities in

its second defensive battle within a week.

The officers who had come up included Major H. Marshall, who was in

command of the Battalion, Major H. F. M. Warne, who acted as his

second in command, and Captain L. L. Burtt, who commanded “C” and “D”

Companies, now formed into one Company. “A” and “B” Companies were

amalgamated under Lieutenant L. C. Morris, M.C.

The positions were taken up at dusk, “A” and “B” Companies being on the

left along a sunken road running in a north-westerly direction from

about the centre of the village, and “C” and “D” on the right were

along a similar road which ran due east from the village. The village

itself was not occupied, but posts were established near the cemetery

in the sunken roads north-east of the village. These were withdrawn at

dawn. The 2nd Division was on the left of “A” and “B” Companies, and

the 59th Division was on the right of “C” and “D” Companies.

The troops from the front line in Bourlon Wood passed through as

arranged, the evacuation of the wood having been rendered necessary

owing to the forcing in by the Germans of both arms of the Cambrai

Salient.

The whole front was patrolled throughout the night, but until daylight

nothing was seen or heard of the enemy, whose front line was about two

miles away. Numerous explosions heard in the wood showed that the Royal

Engineers were destroying dug-outs and anything likely to be of use to

the enemy.

The garrison on the right, numbering less than 120, all ranks, after

trying to dig themselves in in the frost bound ground along the side

of the road, moved forward to a well-camouflaged German trench which

started just outside the village and continued almost to the 59th

Division on the right. Leading out of the back of the trench were four

old gun pits with the dismantled 5·9’s still there, and at the village

end was a trench running forward at right angles.

It should be mentioned that at the outset it was understood that the

garrison would be withdrawn after twenty-four hours, but, as after

events show, the troops were doomed to disappointment.

The two halves of the Battalion were not in touch with each other at

all, and as they fought during these few days as separate units, their

experiences are dealt with separately.

At daylight on the 5th of December it was seen from the trench occupied

by “C” and “D” Companies that the Germans had discovered the withdrawal

from Bourlon Wood, for small parties of them were seen wandering about

the deserted front line and in the wood itself, great interest being

shown in a derelict tank, which was subsequently used as a signal

station.

It was not, however, until the afternoon that the enemy approached to

within reasonable distance of Graincourt, but his patrols now became

very active, first coming on in small parties, which were easily

dispersed by rifle and Lewis gun fire, and later in larger numbers,

which were also dispersed in the same way. Some excellent shooting was

indulged in about this time by the gallant little bands on either side

of the village, but although they were able to keep the enemy off while

the daylight lasted, it was obvious that the small force defending

the village would not be able to prevent him from entering Graincourt

during the night. With the coming of darkness it was found that a

considerable number of Germans had reached the village, for patrols and

even ration parties encountered them, both in front and in rear of the

defending garrison. Runners were also involved in small fights, which

were quite frequent during the night on the fringes of the village. In

one of these a German machine gun team was overwhelmed, the gun and one

man being captured, and the rest of the team being killed.

Just as the men of “C” and “D” Companies were expecting to be

withdrawn, Major Warne arrived from Battalion Headquarters to take

command of the garrison on the right, with orders to hold the position

for another twenty-four hours, and, on withdrawal, to occupy a strong

post in the rear.

One must have endured the strain of prolonged fighting in a precarious

position, worn out by constant watching, with little food or water, and

many other discomforts too numerous to mention, in order to realise how

intense was the disappointment of these men who, thinking that Major

Warne came to tell them their work was done and to take them back to

rest, learnt that their job had only just begun.

At about 5.0 a.m. on the 6th, a Lewis gun was posted in the road about

300 yards south of the village with orders to deal with the enemy

there as far as possible, but to withdraw if the opposition became too

strong, to a strong post about a mile further down the road towards the

village of Flesquieres. An enemy patrol soon tried to rush the gun, but

without success, and a wounded prisoner was captured as a result.

At daylight two parties tried to rush the gun. Both were beaten off,

but not before the gun team had suffered two casualties. As other

parties of the enemy were on the move for a further attack, the gun

team was ordered to withdraw to the aforementioned point, where the gun

was soon in action again in helping to repel an attack on the strong

point itself.

Meantime Major Warne’s force was still holding on, and the incidents of

the 6th of December are thus described by Sergeant C. Manthorp, who,

with Sergeant E. Cooke, was conspicuous throughout the operation by

gallantry and good leadership:--

“When dawn broke on the 6th, we were very much on the alert

to see what surprises were in store for us, and directly we

could see any distance we were well rewarded. The whole German

army seemed to be advancing, line after line, crossing the

skyline and coming directly for us. Fortunately for us their

orders were obviously not to attack, for when the front line

got to within 600 or 700 yards from our trench, they started

digging in, or at least making a trench sufficiently deep for

protection from our fire. Whilst the advancing and entrenching

was proceeding, we, of course, indulged in a fair amount of

rifle practice, and not without good results, though, of

course, the distance was rather great for anything sensational.

After digging-in, the Bosche lay quite dormant for some hours,

and we, of course, were on tenter-hooks to know what his next

move would be, for with the little force at our disposal, it

would have been hopeless to expect us to hold off what must

have been thousands of Bosches, should they have chosen to

attack.

“It was early afternoon before the next move came. Then all the

lines of Bosches in front of us attacked, but right across our

front on to the 59th Division, the movement being for them a

half left movement. Then we had all the shooting we desired.

The machine-gunners had a fine time, and so did our riflemen,

who were mostly collected in the four gun pits, which were

higher than the floor of the trench and enabled us to fire over

our camouflage, which was composed of wire netting, turf, etc.,

and made firing from the greater part of the trench impossible.

“By about 3.0 p.m. the Bosches appeared to have gone right

through the position held by the 59th Division, and it looked

to us as if the latter had been compelled to retire by weight

of numbers. Of course this made our position untenable with

the Bosches in our right, rear, and working round us, and the

village between us and the remainder of our Battalion also in

enemy hands.

“About 70 yards in rear of our trench and parallel with it,

ran a sunken road, connecting the village on our left. Parties

of Bosches commenced to approach each way along this road,

and this forced us to withdraw most of our garrison from the

trench and form a semi-circle with each end resting on the

road. Things soon became very exciting, and then those of us

who were out at the back of the trench, received the order to

retire. From the sunken road back to the permanent front line

must have been about 1½ miles, and that journey proved about

the most exciting that any of us had experienced. The party’s

strength was two officers and probably about 100 other ranks,

and the retirement was done in extended order. At the start

off we were received with fire from nearly every direction,

and also a little shell fire which may or may not have been

meant for us. After going about half a mile, we had the best

part of the whole business. We came across at least 100 of

the enemy in more or less close order, and did not actually

discover them until they were within about 100 yards of us,

owing to the folds in the ground. It is difficult to say who

appeared to be the most surprised, they or us, but we did not

give them long to think about it. We flopped and opened rapid

fire on them, and also got our Lewis guns going. Our Lewis

gunners had been cursing about their loads, but we were more

than glad of the guns under the circumstances. This big party

of Bosches quickly took fright and it was laughable to see

them all double off back towards home like a flock of sheep.

It was a marvellous target, only about 200 or 300 yards away.

You simply couldn’t miss, and, of course, our success gave us

great help on our journey, for most of us were nearly done,

owing to the bitter nights we had had with no proper hot

food. Having disposed of this body, we encountered no further

opposition from Fritz except occasional rifle fire, and we

took four stray Germans prisoners along with us. We were then

about three-quarters of a mile from our goal, and came upon a

small cable trench about three feet deep running towards our

lines. Just about this time, one of our own aeroplanes came

upon the scene and indulged in a little machine-gun practice on

us, but quickly discovered his mistake. Still, it all helped

to cheer us on the way. I was about the first to get into the

cable trench, and with the prisoners in front, led the way back

to where the Royal Welsh Fusiliers were holding the permanent

line. They also mistook us for Bosches, possibly because of

the four prisoners in front, and subjected us to rather severe

machine-gun fire. It was not till I had waved my shrapnel

helmet for some time on top of my rifle as high as I could

hold it, that they recognised us as friends. Then one of our

officers, who happened to be with them, got out of the trench

and led us in. It appeared that they had already beaten off one

attack during the afternoon, so one could not be surprised at

their mistaking us for foes.

“After some delay we eventually got the remains of the two

Companies back to Rest Camp, whence we had started off on the

evening of the 4th. There were about 15 of ‘C’ Company who got

out and 40 of ‘D’ Company.

“Those of us who did get through can certainly look back

upon the affair as one of the most strenuous and exciting

experiences we had in France.”

Sergeant Cooke has also written an excellent description of the same

action, which bears out his comrade’s story:--

“Daylight on the 6th found everything quiet, but during the

morning large bodies of troops were observed filing into

Anneux--a village between Graincourt and Bourlon Wood--and

it was evident that an attack from this direction was to be

expected. The arrival of a motor car, which was at first

mistaken for a tank, caused some excitement, but, apart from

this and visits from scouting planes, nothing of interest

happened until about 3.0 p.m. when the attack from Anneux was

launched.

The attack, in the form of several waves of infantry, was

mainly directed against the positions right of Graincourt,

leaving ‘A’ and ‘B’ Companies practically untouched.

The remaining Companies, leaving the gun pits and taking up

positions in the open from which more effective use of the

rifle could be made, opened a steady and accurate fire on the

advancing waves, with the result that the attack on their

immediate front crumpled up.

“Attention was now diverted to the right flank, where the enemy

appeared to be meeting with more success, and it was discovered

that the Battalion on the right had retired earlier in the

day--their withdrawal having been hidden from the Civil Service

Rifles by rising ground between the two positions.

“The situation was now serious, as the enemy had closed round

the right rear of ‘C’ and ‘D’ Companies, whilst at the same

time the left rear of the position was threatened by troops

from Graincourt, and the order was given for the garrison to

cut its way out and make for the strong points in front of

Flesquieres.

“Many casualties from machine-gun fire were suffered in getting

clear of the encircling troops, but about 50 of the two

Companies were left to continue the journey back to the strong

points.

“After numerous encounters with isolated machine-gun posts

this party ran into some 200 or 300 of the enemy in an

organised line of shell holes before the positions in front of

Flesquieres, where the attack had been beaten off earlier in

the afternoon, and, as the line was well supplied with light

machine guns, the chances of getting through seemed decidedly

slender until a Red Cross man advanced making the usual signs

of surrender.

“The effect was remarkable, for no sooner had his action been

seen than, with a yell, the Civil Service Rifles charged down

on the enemy, who, being taken by surprise, hastily crowded off

into a small valley, where they afforded excellent targets for

the remaining ammunition of the riflemen and Lewis gunners.

“A few prisoners were collected, and a fresh start made for the

British lines, but, owing to the gathering twilight the party

was mistaken for the enemy and subjected to heavy machine-gun

fire which caused further casualties.

“Eventually, by working their way down a shallow ditch

originally intended for a telephone cable, the battered remnant

of ‘C’ and ‘D’ Companies managed to get near enough to attract

the attention of a machine-gun officer who guided them into the

Strong Point from which the long and slippery march back to

Havrincourt was commenced.”

* * * * *

When the withdrawal from Graincourt began, the right garrison had been

divided into two parties, the smaller, consisting of Major Warne,

Captain Burtt, Second-Lieutenants Potts and Houslop, with about 20

or 30 other ranks, being in the trench, and the larger party, under

Second Lieutenants Lacy and King, being outside. Second Lieutenant

Lacy was wounded during the withdrawal, and afterwards died of wounds,

whilst Second Lieutenant King was last seen in the rear of the party

as it withdrew, binding up a wounded N.C.O., and was afterwards

taken prisoner. The officers and men in the trench found themselves

surrounded by Boches, and after lying quiet for some time they decided

to try to work their way back to the British lines.

Darkness had now fallen, and they had not gone far on their journey

before they ran into a large body of the enemy, who took them prisoners

and led them back through Graincourt and Bourlon Wood, stopping at the

late “D” Company Headquarters, thence via Cambrai to Le Cateau, where

they were split up into different camps.

Much space has been given to the description of the action of “C” and

“D” Companies because, of the two halves of the Battalion, their task

was much the more complicated. “A” and “B” Companies, on the left of

the village, were in touch with Battalion Headquarters throughout.

The big German attack on the 6th of December moved across their front,

but well away from their positions. They were thus able to put in some

excellent shooting with comparatively little opposition from the enemy.

Their patrols, however, were frequently in contact with enemy patrols,

and fought with great credit in the numerous “street corner” fights on

the outskirts of the village.

The left garrison was withdrawn at 5.30 p.m. on the 6th, and reached

Havrincourt without any serious interruption.

The Regimental Aid Post was withdrawn at 6.0 p.m., all the wounded who

could be found having been sent down.

Battalion Headquarters reached Havrincourt shortly before midnight,

and after a day in tents in Havrincourt Wood, the Battalion moved, on

the 8th of December, to billets in the village of Bertincourt, where

at last there was time to pause and count the cost. The stay in this

village was simply a repetition of the experience in Henencourt Wood

in 1916, with the melancholy writing of letters of condolence and

despatching of “effects.”

After a week spent at Bertincourt, where the remainder of the “battle

surplus” rejoined from the Divisional Reinforcement Camp, the Battalion

moved up to take over a piece of line in front of Havrincourt. The

troops had been hoping to go back for a rest, and the return to the

line came as a not very pleasant surprise, and the statements of

Company Commanders that the Battalion would certainly be back at rest

for Christmas were received with a certain amount of scepticism.

The neighbourhood of Graincourt proved to be a less exciting place on

this occasion, and after six cold but uneventful days the Battalion set

off by train to the back area for a rest, and for what was generally

felt to be a well-deserved Christmas holiday.

Snow lay thick on the ground when the Battalion marched into the

village of Morlancourt, where it was to spend the rest. If the

weather was seasonable, that is more than could be said for most of

the billets, and a good deal of work had to be done in some of them

to obtain any degree of comfort. The Christmas spirit, however, was

abroad, and the troops, after their recent experiences, were not in the

mood to worry about minor discomforts. The place was hardly one “to

write home about,” but the estaminets were plentiful and well stocked,

and as a change from Bourlon Wood or even Bertincourt, the village of

Morlancourt, with all its drawbacks, was appreciated.

Parades were few, and preparations for Christmas festivities were the

order of the day. These were to take the form of plenty to eat, plenty

to drink, and concerts and sing-songs in some of the largest halls and

barns of the village. Time was too short to permit of the production of

a revue or pantomime, though a cynic suggested that the authorities had

some such idea in their minds when they called on the Quartermaster’s

staff to provide a guard one evening.

The Christmas dinners were a great success. No building, of course,

could be found in the village to accommodate the whole Battalion, but

it was found possible for “A” and “B” Companies to sit down to dinner

together in one place, and “C” and “D” in another. All the officers met

together for dinner later in the day.

The fare was varied and plentiful, joints of pork making a welcome

change from the everlasting beef and mutton of the Army menu. Concerts

and other forms of merrymaking passed away the remainder of the day,

and the good spirits of the troops testified to their enjoyment of the

Christmas festivities.

The sergeants were planning a dinner for the New Year, and preparations

were practically complete when a hard-hearted Staff ordered a move to

the neighbouring villages of Ribemont and Mericourt, where the other

Battalions of the Brigade were already stationed. The remainder of the

holiday was spent in these villages, where the Civil Service Battalion,

as last comer, was unfortunate in the allotment of billets, and the men

were spread over a large area.

The postponed sergeants’ dinner, attended by the Commanding Officer and

acting Adjutant, was held at Ribemont.

On the 10th of January the Battalion moved back by train to work,

spending one night at Bertincourt before moving up to support positions

in the village of Ribecourt. Now followed two tours, to the sectors

in front of Ribecourt and Flesquières, during which there is little

outside the ordinary events of trench warfare to record. While in

reserve, the Battalion was stationed at Bertincourt, a dilapidated

village, where some of the billets were Nissen huts and others

damaged houses, and where the chief feature at the time was mud. This

neighbourhood was a favourite one for the operations of the Boche

night bombers. The Civil Service Rifles had had previous experience of

this form of annoyance in billets, and in spite of the extra duties

occasioned by Lewis gun anti-aircraft posts, the troops soon regarded

the nightly visits of the planes as philosophically as the most

hardened Londoner.

At the beginning of February the man-power question was so acute in

the British Infantry that it was decided to reduce Infantry Brigades

from four to three Battalions--“in order to make a Brigade more mobile

and more easily controlled by the Brigade Commander,” said the official

explanation. In the 47th Division the three Battalions to be broken up

in consequence of this order were the 6th, 7th, and 8th City of London

Battalions, who, with the Civil Service Rifles, had till then formed

the 140th Brigade. The 17th and 21st Battalions (Poplar and Stepneys

and First Surrey Rifles respectively) were transferred from the other

Brigades of the Division to complete the 140th. This measure came to

the Battalions broken up as an unexpected and sudden shock, the force

of which will be fully understood and appreciated by every soldier who

knows the strength of the bonds which keep the members of a Battalion

together. The men of the Civil Service Rifles, realising what their own

feelings would have been if it had fallen to their lot to be split up,

were full of sympathy for the fellows who had been their comrades and

their rivals for nearly three years of active service.

A number of officers and other ranks of the 6th Battalion were

transferred to the Civil Service, and, in spite of the soreness which

they must have felt at the loss of the identity of the Battalion whose

high name and fame they had helped to win, they settled down to give

to their new unit the same wholehearted service that they had given to

their own.

One of the results of this reorganisation was the acquisition by the

Civil Service of the brass band of the 6th Battalion. Strengthened by

the inclusion of some of the more expert musicians of the existing

drum and fife band, this band, under the direction of Sergeant W.

H. Blackmore, quickly became one of the most valuable assets of the

Regiment, and remains so to this day, for Mr. Blackmore still has

charge of the Regimental Band, which includes in its ranks the majority

of the men who served with him in France. The Regimental Band is one of

the most successful features of the post-war Civil Service Rifles.

CHAPTER XX

THE RETREAT

Although a big German offensive had been expected for some weeks, and

elaborate preparations to meet it had been made during the winter

months, there were few signs of the eve of a big battle when the Civil

Service Rifles, after a two hours’ train journey from Etricourt,

arrived at Winchester Valley late in the evening of the 19th of March,

and relieved the 1st Berkshire Regiment (2nd Division) in Lincoln

Reserve, the support line on Beaucamp Ridge, near Villers Plouich. The

Poplar and Stepneys and London Irish were in the front line, and the

20th of March passed off very quietly.

It was thought that the Brigade was in for another spell of peaceful

trench warfare, similar to those experienced before the short and

pleasant stay at Manancourt. The rumours of the coming battle, which

had been so strong during the winter months, had, in fact, begun to

die down. The optimistic went so far as to think that the enemy attack

would not take place, whilst the “quietly confident,” thinking of the

days of strenuous digging on those wide trenches behind the Hindenburg

Line--the “Tank traps”--with the miles of barbed wire obstacles which

had been erected all around, felt that, even if the enemy did launch a

big attack, he would not get beyond the Hindenburg Line. Not even the

most pessimistic had imagined the great crisis through which the Allied

armies were to pass before another month was over. Nor was there any

indication in the daily routine that the authorities were anticipating

such a titanic struggle in the near future. Leave, regarded by the

soldier as the most reliable “Military Barometer,” was still being

granted, and the allotment was indeed very much better than at any

other time during the war. Men were actually going home on leave within

six months of their last arrival in France, and in such circumstances

how could one take any but the rosiest view of the future? The German

attack, if it came off at all, would probably be a repetition of

Bourlon Wood, and after that both sides would settle down to another

long spell of trench warfare. It was folly to talk, as the newspapers

were doing, of a decisive battle.

When day broke on the 21st of March, however, it was clear that there

had been some truth in the “big battle” rumours, for the first day of

spring was heralded by such an intense enemy bombardment that there was

no longer any doubt that the Bosche was making a supreme effort, beside

which all his previous attacks faded into insignificance.

The difficulty at first was to find out where the attack was being

pushed home, for in spite of the bombardment, which lasted from 4.30

a.m. until 11.0 a.m., there was no infantry engagement on the 21st of

March on the 140th Brigade front. It was fortunate, too, that this was

so, for the gas shells fell so freely all around that box respirators

had to be worn continuously for six and a half hours.

There have been many attempts to write the story of the great retreat

and, generally speaking, the experience of one battalion was much the

same as that of any other. But it is well-nigh impossible to describe

in detail the career of any unit throughout the most strenuous days

of the fighting--the 21st to the 26th of March. During these days

battalions often became split up into several parties engaged in

different small fights, where none knew how the battle fared with their

comrades in other parts of the field. The war correspondents, it is

true, saw the Allied troops fighting every inch of ground, and killing

thousands of Germans as they fell back, but it was difficult indeed

for those engaged in the fighting to ascertain what the situation was,

and a total lack of information was one of the outstanding features of

the retreat. It was only when they ultimately got back into reserve,

some days after, that the troops were able to learn from the newspapers

that the Germans had been badly beaten all along the line. “Still,”

thought the British Tommy, who had marched in six days across country

covered by two ordnance maps, “I don’t altogether like this new style

of winning the war.”

The story of the Civil Service Rifles during these critical days of

their career in France is told briefly in the official War Diary, which

contains just a simple record of their movements without any comment.

In that record it is told how the Battalion, which was in support in

Lincoln Reserve on the morning of the 21st, became at night the front

line battalion, the 17th and 18th Battalions having been withdrawn. The

second day of the battle was quiet on the Civil Service Rifles’ front,

and the Battalion remained undisturbed in Lincoln Reserve until the

early hours of the 23rd, when, orders having been received to withdraw,

a position was taken up on the Dessart Ridge Switch, on the right of

the Metz-Fins Road. The line was complete by dawn, the dispositions

being “A” Company on the left, with their left flank on the road

and their right in touch with “B,” with “C” and “D” on the right of

“B”: Battalion Headquarters was established in a bank about half a

mile behind. “A” was afterwards, owing to congestion, withdrawn to a

position slightly in rear of the two companies.

[Illustration: SKETCH ILLUSTRATING THE FIRST DAY OF THE C.S.R.

RETREAT--23 MARCH 1918.]

The 23rd of March was the most critical day in the career of the Civil

Service Rifles in France. The official narrative disposes of it in less

than a page, but a whole book could be written on the many situations

which arose on that day, and the many acts of heroism, determination

and devotion to duty performed by different members of the Battalion.

The story of the fighting can be followed more or less from the map on

the opposite page.

Immediately the position on Dessart Ridge Switch was taken up, i.e.,

about 5.0 a.m., “D” Company on the right became engaged with the enemy,

who attempted to rush in from the right flank, which was unprotected,

and by 7.0 a.m. the Battalion was engaging the enemy all along the

line. At 8.0 a.m. the enemy made a determined bombing attack on the

right of “D” Company, and established machine gun posts which enfiladed

the position. Shortly afterwards large numbers of troops were seen

to be retiring, apparently from the position known as Metz Switch.

Colonel Segrave went over and rallied these, and took them forward

with his Headquarters Company to the ridge between Metz and Dessart

Wood (east of the Metz-Fins Road), and took up a position facing east,

and at right angles to the Dessart Switch line. This was done to form

a rallying line for retiring troops and a defensive flank to Dessart

Ridge Switch.

After shelling the whole area for an hour or two more, the enemy gained

a little more ground and established further machine-gun posts, this

time towards the left, south and south-east of Metz. Shortly after

noon, troops on the left retired, leaving the left flank of the Civil

Service Rifles exposed, and the Battalion now held an isolated position

with the enemy working his way round both flanks. The Headquarters

Company was accordingly withdrawn to the Vallulart Wood Line, and the

remaining Companies, in the Dessart Switch Line facing South, continued

the fight in the same position, forming a flank to what had been the

third British system of defensive positions, now occupied by some Civil

Service Rifles and other troops.

This third system and the Dessart Switch Line were abandoned at

about 4.0 p.m., but “D” Company on the right had by this time been

surrounded and was never extricated. The cause of this disaster was the

fact that the Company’s right flank was completely “in the air” from

the time it reached the position. Indeed, this may be said of every

position the Battalion took up during the day. There was not at any

time any support on the right flank, the troops of the 9th Division

(5th Army) having already departed before the fighting began. Many

explanations of these repeated withdrawals have since been made, both

in after-dinner speeches and in statements to the Press. At least one

book has been written on the subject. There was, and apparently still

is, considerable difference of opinion as to the justification for the

action of the troops of the 5th Army. This story is not concerned with

the controversy. The statement is made simply to illustrate how the

Civil Service Rifles, on the right of the 47th Division, felt the full

effect of the rapid withdrawal of the troops on their right.

[Illustration: SKETCH ILLUSTRATING THE SECOND DAY OF THE C.S.R. RETREAT

(24 MARCH 1918) AND ALSO THE FIGHTING AT HIGH WOOD AND EAUCOURT L’ABBE

IN SEPTEMBER AND OCTOBER 1916.]

The movements of the various parts of the Battalion after 4.0 p.m. on

the 23rd are not even now very clear. Battalion Headquarters (less

Headquarters Company) left the third system at 4.0 p.m. and moved to

Rocquigny, when Colonel Segrave collected a party of about fifty and

put them in position along a ridge north of Four Winds Farm, about a

mile and a half south-west of Ytres, where they remained until the

enemy drove them out at dusk.

At this point the official narrative breaks down with the remark:

“By this time the remnants of the Civil Service Rifles were split up

into so many parties, whose movements are too complicated to follow.”

The survivors from those small parties, remembering their night of

wandering in the dark over rough and strange country, and their

inexplicable reunion at dawn, will bear out the truth of the last

sentence.

By 9.0 a.m. on the twenty-fourth, the Battalion had been reduced to a

mere handful of troops, who were worn out by their twenty-four hours’

continuous fighting. The fate of the majority of the absentees was

only too well known, but there were a good many missing whose fate was

uncertain. The survivors, however, gallantly stuck to their task, and,

numbering about 150, they took up a position under Colonel Segrave,

just east of the Bapaume-Peronne road, and about a mile south-east of

Le Transloy. Here they remained in support of a party of the 1st Surrey

Rifles holding the higher ground to the east, until at noon they had to

move back another two miles almost due west, and a position was taken

up about half a mile south of Le Transloy and just off the western

side of the Le Transloy-Combles road. This position was only held for

three hours, when the party, now acting as a rearguard, moved round the

western side of Le Transloy to a line north-east of Gueudecourt, whence

they were withdrawn at 5.30 p.m. by order of the Brigade Commander

through Gueudecourt and Flers to Martinpuich.

It was still light when Martinpuich was reached, and there were a few

of the 150 or so survivors to whom the sight of the ruins of Eaucourt

L’Abbé and the Flers Line recalled their grim struggle of October 1916.

It was by no means a happy coincidence that brought the Civil Service

Rifles back to this battlefield, where, eighteen months previously,

they had paid such a price for the capture of High Wood. On their

previous visit to this area they had been filled with confidence and

the offensive spirit. They had felt they were really doing something

towards winning the war. To retreat across the same country now made

it seem as though all the labours of the past eighteen months had been

wasted--the lives lost in vain. It had been better if this battlefield

had not been reached until darkness had fallen, and perhaps spared

those men the bitter reflections on the autumn of 1916 and all they had

gone through since.

There was little time, however, for reminiscences, for only a very

short stay was made in Martinpuich, and 10.0 p.m. found the Battalion

reforming at Bazentin-le-Petit, where further officers and other ranks

rejoining brought the strength up to about 230 all ranks. An outpost

position was then taken up along the eastern edge of Bazentin-le-Petit

and occupied until 10.0 a.m. on the 25th, when a withdrawal was made to

Contalmaison Ridge, where the Battalion remained until 3.0 a.m. on the

26th.

After the rapid changes of position during the past two days it had

seemed quite a long stay on Contalmaison Ridge, but the troops were not

destined to settle there, and the next move was to Bouzincourt. The

fighting had now ceased for the time being, so far, at least, as the

Civil Service Rifles were concerned, but there was still no rest to be

had, and it was not until after a five hours’ march via Contalmaison,

La Boiselle and thence across country to Aveluy and Bouzincourt, that

billets were reached. The Battalion was now supposed to be resting, but

after eight hours in Bouzincourt, the men were on the march again, and

at 4.0 p.m. on the 26th they trudged along to billets at Louvencourt,

where the night was spent.

At 9.0 a.m. on the 27th the march was resumed and after a rest for

an hour or two at Clairfaye Farm, a move was made to billets at

Toutencourt, where a halt was made for quite twelve hours!

During these marches the Battalion had been in reserve, but now it

began to move back to the front line, but before relieving the 6th

Buffs (12th Division) in Aveluy Wood on the night of the 29th, a very

welcome twenty-four hours’ rest had been enjoyed in billets at Warloy.

While the fighting portion of the Battalion had been having such a

strenuous time in the retreat, the Administrative portion had also

had plenty of excitement, and the men of the transport section and

Quartermaster’s staff had frequently had to think about knocking

the ashes out of their rifles and sharpening their bayonets during

days when they were often in touch with the enemy. For a time they

had to carry on as a separate unit, and the story of their travels

is told in the following narrative contributed by Transport-Sergeant

G. M. Sladden, to whom much credit is due for the withdrawal of the

Regimental transport without the loss of a man or a horse.

“The period of the ‘Great Retreat’ was an arduous one for the

Battalion Transport, entailing conditions vastly different from

the ordered routine incidental to trench warfare. Their lines

were stationed on the 21st March in a field on the Metz-Fins

road, the Quartermaster’s stores being then in Metz, where the

Battalion had been billeted prior to relieving the 2nd Division

in the line. The stores were filled with an unusually heavy

stock of material, including the blankets of the Battalion,

the officers’ valises and the men’s packs. In fact, mobile

conditions did not exist at this time.

“Early on the morning of the 22nd the hostile attack developed

on our part of the front, and it rapidly became apparent that

the attack was making headway, though hitherto no news had been

heard of the great German success on the previous day further

south. To the right was seen an aerial attack in great force on

the 9th Division, of which some details soon began to pass in

retreat by the transport lines. The officers’ mess cart, which

had gone early to Nurlu canteen, returned to report the canteen

shelled out and Nurlu deserted. Soon orders arrived that the

Battalion was to retire after nightfall to the Dessart Switch

line, and the Transport to withdraw to Bus. Accordingly, all

wagons not required to take up rations and move the Battalion

that night were sent off at once with loads to Bus, and orders

to return for a second load as soon as possible. Blankets were

sent first, valises were left for the second journey: but the

congested state of the roads and the rapidity of the enemy

advance upset all calculations. The A.S.C. wagons, which were

to have cleared the Quartermaster stores, were prevented by the

road controls from returning to Metz. Consequently, there are

certain officers who cherish regretful memories of persistent

but futile efforts to induce a harsh War Office to compensate

them for the loss of valuable but non-regulation articles of

kit. Some of the limbered wagons--luckier or perhaps swifter

than the A.S.C. motors--got back to the Transport lines late

that night and picked up second loads. They were none too soon,

for as they finished loading they were fired upon by machine

guns from a patrol which had reached the ridge overlooking

the lines from a few hundred yards away. The wagons, luckily,

were standing in a sunken road and down this they were able

to escape without casualty. Meanwhile, the ration wagons

had gone up to the line, where they found the front line

now withdrawn to the support line and preparing to evacuate

the position. Ammunition dumps--notably the great dump at

Trescault--were being blown up all round: indications of a big

retreat abounded. Having delivered rations, the column waited

to pick up Lewis guns and other equipment, and to take them

back to the new position. Gradually the guns came down until

all but one had arrived; the Battalion was clear and platoons

of other Battalions continued to file by--still no Lewis gun.

Yet orders were definite, to wait till all the guns had come.

But when the last platoon of the last Battalion had passed, it

seemed certain that the missing gun must have gone some other

way. The boy who stood on the burning deck was doubtless noble

but certainly idiotic: moreover, it seemed possible that the

fifteen guns on the wagons _might_ be wanted. So orders were

stoutly disobeyed and away went the wagons. They had been

warned not to go back by the route by which they had come

up, which had been reported occupied by the enemy; so in the

blackness of a pitch-dark night, over unreconnoitred ground,

they made a bee-line for the road between Metz and Trescault.

“Over hill, over dale,

Through bush, through briar,

Over park, over pale,

Through trench, through wire--”

and hit it at last, though once nearly ingulfed in a bog. And

so up the Fins road to the appointed place, where everything

was safely handed over. The next stage was to the Transport

lines, where the trekking loads of the wagons were waiting

to be picked up; but, at a short distance from the lines,

bullets coming from that direction made it appear probable that

the enemy was in possession, and this was confirmed by the

Battalion Intelligence Officer who happened to meet the column

at this juncture. Nothing for it then but to get away and join

up with the rest of the Transport at Bus.

“At Bus the whole of the Brigade Transport was standing by

waiting orders to move; so the tired horses could not even be

unharnessed. There was, however, opportunity to water and feed

both for horse and man before a move was made, which was not

actually until midday. The line of march was by Le Mesnil and

Saillisel to Le Transloy, over by roads much cut up. At one

point the column had to pass over a quaking bog, of which the

thin crust had to be continually reinforced, after the passage

at the gallop of each vehicle, with fascines, bits of plank,

and anything that came handy. The prevailing fine weather was

a god send; without it the column could not have passed this

spot. Night had fallen before the column pulled off the road

on to a shell-riddled stretch of the old Somme battlefield

where wagons and horses could only stand higgledy-piggledy

wherever a spot without a shell-hole could be found. Here the

A.S.C. supply wagons were waiting, and at once rations were

loaded on the limbers and sent off to find the Battalion. This

was successfully done, and meanwhile the remaining horses and

men were able to snatch a little sleep, though standing by

to move at ten minutes’ notice. Orders were hourly expected,

for the front line was falling back fast, and shortly before

midnight part of it--in the shape of ‘A’ Company, which had

lost touch--drifted into the lines in search of the rest of the

Battalion. After they had pushed forward again to take up a

defensive position it was found that other units of the Brigade

Transport had moved off. Assuming that orders had miscarried

(as afterwards was found to be the case), and knowing that if

the column was to get away at all, it must be before dawn, a

move was made without orders. It was found afterwards that the

rest of the Brigade marched via Les Boeufs, where they had some

casualties through shell fire; so the choice of route of the

15th via Saillisel and Combles was a lucky one, for the column

was unmolested on this road except by a little heavy shrapnel

that did no harm. Some trouble was caused at Saillisel, where,

just as dawn began to break, and with the enemy on a ridge only

a short distance away, the road was found to be blocked by

part of an ammunition column. After some difficulty they were

passed--another stroke of luck, for it was heard afterwards

that this column failed to get away. Combles, too, was found to

contain the Divisional Ordnance Depot, where all stores were

being destroyed. A few men were able as they passed to snatch

articles of kit that they had lost: the Battalion saddler still

mourns over his failure to ‘scrounge’ a complete saddler’s

outfit. He found it too heavy to catch the last wagon and stow

it there.

“It took a weary while to reach Bazentin Le Petit that day,

for after Ginchy the road was congested with an enormous mass

of traffic. However, it was done, and horses and men, utterly

weary hoped for a little rest there. But it seemed that the

march would never end, for orders came for the retreat to

continue; and at dusk all (except enough cookers and ration

wagons to supply the Battalion with food that night) moved off

via Albert to a new halting ground. During the afternoon a

slight diversion had been caused by several enemy aeroplanes

that came over and dropped a few bombs intended for the

Brigade Transport; it was, however, a very timid raid of the

tip-and-run variety and did no harm. Of a very different kind

was the relay raid that the column passing through Albert

that night experienced. From dark to light a succession of

machines dropped bombs up and down the main street of Albert

and the main roads approaching the town. The street was full of

moving traffic, and things were made much worse by many motor

transport drivers leaving their lorries standing and taking

cover in houses. It seemed at one time as if the column of the

140th Brigade would be utterly unable to go forward; but the

acting Transport Officer and Quartermaster, Lieutenant A. L.

Mills, did excellent work in sorting out the disorganised mass

of vehicles ahead, and the Brigade column finally got through

with far fewer casualties than might have been expected, and of

these the 15th incurred none. Meanwhile the ration column had

set out with an escort of armoured cars to meet the Battalion

at Bazentin Le Grand. The Battalion was, for the moment, not

holding a position, and it was possible to give every man the

good, hot meal of which he stood in need. The escort proved

unnecessary, and as it was growing light when Albert was passed

on the return journey, the ration column escaped the bombing

that the others had undergone. But the bodies and the wreckage

showed them how much Albert had suffered that night. They

rejoined the rest of the transport in the small hours of the

morning of the 25th, but within four hours the whole column was

on the move again to just outside Millencourt. Here was another

short halt, during which the 15th acquired two ‘buckshee’

horses--one of them an excellent animal, who served them

well until he was killed six months later, the other blind

and vicious: it was easy to guess how he came to be roving

free--and he was soon given his freedom back again. Tired

though every man and beast was, it was necessary to move again

that afternoon, because the unit was said to be on the wrong

side of road. They were sent to a pitch which was also useless

because too soft for wagon or horse lines--involving another

move, unauthorised this time. Rations went up as soon as the

third move had been carried out, and after a long wait at the

rendezvous were sent back to the lines, for the Battalion was

at last coming out of the line. The ration column got back to

the lines just in time to move with the rest of the Transport

to Bouzincourt, where the relieved Battalion was met early

on the morning of the 26th. From which time for a while the

history of the movements of the Transport merges again with

that of the Battalion as a whole.

[Illustration]

* * * * *

A second phase of the fighting opened when the Battalion moved to

Aveluy Wood on the night of the 29th of March.

There had been no time for a proper re-organisation, and the troops

had not yet recovered from their exertions during the retreat. The

casualties since the morning of the 21st of March numbered no less than

350 (all ranks) and as no reinforcements had joined, it was as well

that the second phase opened quietly.