THE ADVANCE
The advance of the British troops under Sir Julian Byng, who was to win
in this engagement the sobriquet of "Bingo" Byng, marked a departure
from rules of warfare as it had been conducted up to date in the
greatest of all conflicts. Heretofore, heavy cannonading had always
preceded an advance in force. Heavy curtains of smoke from the great
guns had been flung over the enemy's lines to mask the movements of the
attackers.
While this smoke curtain had protected, to some extent, the movements
of the assaulting party, it also had the effect of "tipping off" the
foe that an attack was about to be launched. Now the British were
about to advance without the protection of the smoke screens.
But General Byng's army moved forward in the wake of even a more
formidable protection than smoke.
British "tanks," armored tractors, showed the way.
General Byng's attack covered the whole length of what had become known
as the redoubtable and supposedly impregnable "Hindenburg line," so
called because it had been established by that greatest of all German
military geniuses, Field Marshal von Hindenburg. From Drocourt, just
to the northwest of Douai, the line stretched for forty miles in a
fairly straight line down through Vitryen-Artois, Villiers, Cagnocourt
to Queant and Pronville, thence on to Boursies, Havrincourt, Gour
Zeacourt, Epehy and St. Quentin.
The first, or upper section of this line--from Drocourt to Queant--was
called the Wotan line. The lower section had become known as the
Siegfried line. Both together formed the general scheme of the
Hindenburg front.
It was along this line, then, that the British struck on the morning of
Nov. 20, 1917. The drive had for its chief objective the capture, or
possible isolation, of Cambrai, one of the most important positions in
this sector in German hands. Cambrai was a railroad center in those
days, a terminus from which the German general staff supplied various
points of the long line with munitions, food and men, the latter when
required.
The capture of Cambrai, it was apparent, would mean the ultimate fall
of St. Quentin and Lille, both points of strategic advantage.
General Byng ordered his third army forward shortly before daylight so
that when the moment came for the first blow his men would have
daylight with which to go about their work.
As has been said, there was no preliminary bombardment of the enemy's
positions sufficiently in advance to give the enemy time to prepare his
resisting measures. Instead of the uprooting barrage, British tanks
cleared the path for the infantry, and what few cavalry was used in the
attack. Thus the enemy was given no warning.
The attack was a complete surprise--and a surprise attack in this
great war had been called well nigh impossible. Even the German air
service was fooled. As a result of its inability to anticipate General
Byng's movements, the German fighting machine naturally lost some of
its efficiency.
As dawn broke, the British tanks bore down on the foe steadily and
without the appearance of undue haste; in fact, the tanks could not
have made haste had such been General Byng's plan. Formidable
instruments of warfare that they are, they do not number speed among
their many accomplishments.
Hundreds of these tanks, bearing every resemblance to mythical monsters
of a prehistoric day, crawled across the ground that separated the
opposing armies. What must have been the surprise of the German
general staff when the break of day showed these monsters so near?
Having had no warning of the impending attack, the enemy naturally was
taken at a disadvantage. The warning of the advance was flashed along
the German first-line defenses the moment daylight disclosed the
hundreds of tanks advancing to the fray. The second-line defenses were
made ready to withstand an attack should the first line be beaten back,
and, although it was not within the comprehension of German leaders
that it could be possible, the third-line defenses also were made ready
to repel the invaders.
Between the German first-line trenches and the British front at this
point the distance was something under half a mile. Between the
various German lines of defense, the distance was almost an even mile.
As the British tanks advanced across the open ground, smashing down
barbed-wire entanglement and crawling in and out of shell craters as
though they did not exist, defenders sprang to their positions.
Rapid-firers opened upon the British from every conceivable angle; but
the shells dropped harmlessly from the sides of the armored tanks. The
tanks just seemed to shake their heads and passed on.
Behind the tanks the infantry advanced slowly, flanked here and there
by squadrons of cavalry, the horses of which could hardly be held back,
so anxious did they seem to get at the foe.
The British tanks spat fire from the rapid-fire guns that formed their
armament. Streams of bullets flew into the German lines, dealing death
and destruction.
From the rear the great British guns dropped high explosive shells in
the German trenches.
The German first-line defenses, prepared with days of hard labor, and
formed of deep ditches, of concrete and pure earth, offered no
difficulties to the British tanks. Straight up to these emplacements
they crawled, shoved their noses into the walls, and uprooted them;
then crawled calmly over the debris.
Into the gaps thus opened, the British infantry poured, while
cavalrymen jumped their horses across the gaps and fell upon the foe
with sword and lance.
The Germans fought bravely, but they were so bewildered by this
innovation in the art of warfare that their lines had lost their
cohesion long before the tanks plowed into them, and they scattered as
the British "Tommies" dashed forward, after one withering volley, with
the cold steel of the bayonet.
Here and there small groups collected and offered desperate resistance,
but their efforts to stem the tide of advancing British were in vain.
An hour after daylight first-line defenses of the entire Hindenburg
line were in the hands of the British.
But General "Bingo" Byng was not content to rest on these laurels. He
ordered his left wing--those of his troops who had advanced against
the Wotan line--to advance farther, and also threw his center into
the conflict again. Troops opposed to the Siegfried line he held in
reserve, that he might strike a blow in that sector of the field should
his main attack fail.
Again the British on left and center dashed to the attack. Again the
tanks plowed over the uneven ground, and advanced against a second
apparently impregnable barrier. Flushed with victory, the British
"Tommies" cheered to the echo, as they moved forward gaily.
Many a man fell with a song on his lips, as he stumbled across the
shell craters that made walking so difficult, for the Germans from
their second-line defenses poured in a terrible fire, but the others
pressed on as though nothing had happened. There was no time to pause
and give succor to a wounded comrade, the command had been to advance.
Besides, the Red Cross nurses and the ambulance drivers would be along
presently to take care of those who could no longer take care of
themselves. It was hard, many a man told himself, but he realized that
the first duty was to drive back the foe.
Shell after shell struck the British tanks as they waddled across the
rough ground. One, suddenly, blew into a million pieces. An explosive
had struck a vital spot. For the most part, however, the shells fell
from the armored sides like drops of water from a roof.
German troops lined the second-line defenses and poured a hail of
bullets into the advancing British. It was no use. The British
refused to be stopped.
Straight to the trenches the tanks led the way, and nosed into them.
Down went emplacements that the Germans had spent days in making
secure. The tanks rooted them up like a steam shovel. Men fled to
right and left, and there, at command from their officers, paused long
enough to pour volleys of rifle fire into the Britons, as they swarmed
into the trenches in the wake of the tanks.
From the second-line defenses the tanks led the way to the third line,
where they met with the same success. This, however, took longer, and
when the British found themselves in possession of these, with Cambrai,
the immediate objective, less than four miles away. General Byng
called a halt. He felt that his men had done enough for one day.
There would be a renewed attack on the morrow, but now he realized that
the most important thing was to straighten out his lines, consolidate
them against a possible counter-assault, and work out his plan of
attack for the following day.
Therefore, the "Tommies" made themselves as comfortable as possible in
their newly won positions. Prisoners were hurried to the rear, and
captured guns were swiftly swung into position to be used against their
erstwhile owners should they return to the fight.
In these positions the British third army spent the night.