THE RAID AT FAYET,
APRIL, 1917.
A German vantage-point.--Shell-ridden Holnon.--A night of
confusion.--Preparing for the raid of April 28.--The enemy taken
by surprise.--The Battalion's first V.C.--The affair at Cepy Farm.
It was hard to believe that any lofty eminence which overlooked our
lines was not in constant use by the enemy for observation. The iron
towers at Loos, the spire of Calonne, even the crazy relics of the
church at Puisieux at different times contributed this uneasy feeling
to the denizens of our trenches. But surely never was the sense of
being spied on more justified than near St. Quentin, whose tall
cathedral raised itself higher than all the roofs of the town and
higher, too, than the ridges surrounding it for many miles.
On April 20, 1917, a German observer from the cathedral belfry could
have seen the divisional relief which brought the 61st Division back
to the line. All day small parties were moving in the forward zone,
while further back larger ones crossed and re-crossed the ridge 'twixt
Holnon and Fayet, and in rear again, along the road through Savy to
Germaine, columns of Infantry in fours followed by horses, vehicles,
and smoking cooker-chimneys, were passing one another, some coming,
others going back. Those coming made a left-handed turn at Savy,
hugged the line of single railway as far as a crucifix at a cross-roads,
and were then lost to distinct view amid the abject ruins of Holnon.
Those going were the 32nd Division, whose march carried them out of
the cathedral's eye or observation by German balloons.
Among the new arrivals were the 2/4th Oxfords, of whom all companies,
followed until the end by cookers and Lewis-gun limbers, disposed
themselves in or around Fayet, on whose north side stood a stone
monument commemorative of local fighting in the Franco-Prussian War.
Near to this monument was found a deep sunken road, broken with two
huge craters. It was A Company's position as support to the
Gloucesters, who went into the line.
The Battalion spent a week at Holnon village. A line of trenches
linking up 'strong points' had been designed to guard the ridge which
overlooked Fayet and St. Quentin. From Selency Château, whose thickets
fringed the sky-line, on the right, to the high-perched windmill above
Maissemy on the left, work to consolidate this system had commenced.
It remained for us to excavate the chalk trenches deeper and erect
wire. The demand for that material exceeded the supply, and it was
necessary to salve old German stores. Some excellent coils I found--of
American manufacture. Pickets were improvised. Thus liberated by the
amateur assortment of our tools from the irksome tyranny of army
wiring circulars, we set about the work and soon put up some of the
best wire of my experience.
In Holnon the life was a new sample of unpleasantness. Of
accommodation, save for a few low walls and half-roofed cellars, there
was no trace. What Holnon lacked in billets it received in shells.
With intervals--possibly only those of German mealtimes--during the
day and nearly throughout the night, 5.9s and 4.2s were throwing up
the brick-dust, till it seemed reasonable to ask why in wonder's name
the Battalion or any living soul was kept in Holnon. After a few bad
nights with little sleep and some close shells, Headquarters moved
from their shed, hard by a mound, to a dismantled greenhouse further
back. It was a nasty time. The German aeroplanes were very active....
That faint patter of machine-gun fire which comes from aeroplanes
circling overhead ends in the descent of one of them. At first it
seems to come down normally, yet with a sort of pilot-light twinkling
at its head; but, when a hundred feet or so from earth, see it burst
into a sheet of flame and shrivel up upon the ground in a column of
dark smoke!
I had my company in shelters under a bank, clear of the village but
immediately in front of a battery of 18-pounder guns, whose incessant
firing, added to the evil whistle of the German shells, deprived the
nights of comfortable sleep. But passive experiences were due to give
place to active. Events of moment were in store. The 184th Brigade had
been warned to carry out an 'enterprise' against the enemy. During
the morning of April 26 I was sent for by the Colonel. I found
Headquarters in their new position, an oblong greenhouse over whose
frame, destitute of glass, was stretched a large 'trench shelter.'
They had passed a shell-ridden night. Bennett just now had narrowly
eluded a 5.9. This morning shells were falling as usual in Holnon, and
pieces occasionally came humming down to earth close by. I listened to
the plan of a large raid which with two companies I was soon to
perform. Moore was here to outline the scheme and also Colonel Cotton
of the R.F.A., whose guns were to support the operation.
At this point I must explain for the benefit of lay readers the
difference between a raid and an attack. The purpose of the latter was
to drive the enemy from ground he occupied and stay there. Early
attacks upon the Western Front were usually directed against trenches,
of which successive lines, reaching to a distance or 'depth' of
several thousand yards, were often our goal or 'objective.' So that
our Infantry could enter hostile trenches it was invariably necessary
to destroy the wire in front or make a pathway through it. Many
attacks failed because the wire had not been cut. Before the days of
Tanks the means employed consisted, broadly speaking, in artillery
fire, which it was also hoped would put the enemy's machine-guns out
of action and frighten his garrison. Our Infantry advanced immediately
this fire had ceased or 'lifted' to the next objective. During the
Battle of the Somme it was found that the enemy often left his
actual trenches and came forward into shell-holes in No-Man's-Land
so as to escape the fire of our artillery. To counter this manoeuvre
the 'creeping barrage' was devised. Our shells were fired so as to
form a moving curtain of destruction immediately in front of our men
in their advance, whilst at the same time the enemy's trenches were
bombarded. Attacks on any scale were planned to capture and hold
against the enemy some ridge, by losing which he lost observation of
our lines, while we, in gaining it, saw more of his and also were
enabled to advance our guns.
The purpose of a raid was to penetrate a portion of the enemy's front,
to kill or capture as many Germans as possible, and then retire. Raids
differed materially from attacks in this respect, that no attempt was
made in the former to hold the ground won longer than was necessary to
satisfy the plan. Raids were usually supported by artillery and took
place at night; but daylight raids, though less common or successful,
were sometimes made, and 'silent raids,' when no artillery was used,
were also tried.
This explanation, dull to military readers, will serve to indicate
what operation I was now about to undertake. The scheme, of which the
General and his Brigade Major were the authors, was to pass a body of
men through a gap in the unoccupied portion of the German trenches
opposite Fayet, deploy, and sweep sideways against some other
trenches, thought to be held, and through several copses which Bucks
patrols had pronounced weakly garrisoned by the enemy. These copses,
which were expected to yield a few handfuls of runaway boys in
German uniform, would be attacked by us in flank and rear at the same
time. The scheme promised well, but the proposed manner of retirement,
which would be in daylight and across nearly a mile of open ground,
presented difficulties. The more to overcome them and to be fresh for
the event, D Company and the platoons of C selected for the task were
to stay in the sunken road north of Fayet, while A and B Companies
went to garrison the outpost line.
The Battalion was mostly fortunate in the opportunity of its reliefs.
One always prayed that the time spent in moving up and changing places
with troops in the front line would coincide with a period quiet in
regard to shelling. One hoped still more that no hostile attack would
clash with the relief.
[Illustration: THE RAID NEAR ST. QUENTIN BY 2/4 OXFORD & BUCKS LT.
INFy. AP. 28 1917]
Such prayers and hopes on April 26, when a quiet, easy relief was
specially desired, came near to being falsified. At dusk, just as our
companies were starting towards Fayet, the enemy commenced an
operation against Cepy Farm, a ruined building near the front line,
predestined by its position to be an object of contention. The attack
was ably dealt with by Tubbs' company of the Bucks and had proved
abortive for the enemy. The circumstance was accompanied by much
erratic shelling from both sides. Orders to stand-to were issued
rather broadcast, and as the relief was now in progress a degree of
confusion resulted everywhere. The destination of my company and half
of C was the sunken road leading down into Fayet, but that I found
already crowded with troops. Almost all units of the Brigade seemed to
be trying to relieve or support each other, and the front line itself
was in quite a ferment, nobody actually knowing what the enemy had
done, was doing, or was expected to do. Under these conditions it
became impossible for me to send patrols to learn the ground from
which the impending raid was to be launched. It happened, in fact,
that when the time to move forward had arrived, I alone of all the
five platoons about to be engaged knew the route to the 'position of
assembly,' that is to say, the place where the attacking troops were
to collect immediately before the raid. That most severe risk--for had
I been a casualty the entire enterprise would have miscarried--was
owing partly to the accident of the confused relief, but more to the
short notice at which the work was to be carried out. Instead of that
thorough reconnaissance which was so desirable I had to be content
with a visit, shared by my officers and a few N.C.O.'s, to an advanced
observation post from which a view was possible of those trenches and
woods we were under orders to raid.
The sunken road proved anything but a pleasant waiting place. The
shelling of Fayet--fresh-scattered bricks across whose roads showed it
an unhealthy place--was now taken up in earnest by the enemy. Partly
perhaps from their own affection for such places, but more probably
because it was our most likely route to reach the village, the Germans
seldom allowed an hour to pass without sending several salvoes of 5.9s
into the sunken road. My men were densely packed in holes under the
banks. I was expecting large supplies of flares and bombs and all
those things one carried on a raid, and had, of course, orders and
explanations of their duties to give to many different parties.
All this made April 27 a vexatious day. During the early part of the
night men from my company had to carry rations to the front line
companies. At midnight, while resting in a wretched lean-to in the
sunken road, I had tidings that Corporal Viggers and several others
had been hit by a shell, which destroyed all C Company's rations. Of
these casualties there was a man whose name I forget, who insisted on
going, not back to hospital, but into the raid a few hours afterwards.
He went, and was wounded again. It is a privilege to place on record
the valorous conduct of this un-named soldier.
While I was receiving the serious news which deprived me of a valuable
leader and several picked men, a shell pitched a few yards from the
spot I occupied. The light went out, and I was half covered with dust
and rubbish. To move was second nature. Followed by Taylor I 'moved'
100 yards down the road to the rest of my company. My kit and maps
were later rescued from the dirt and brought to my new position.
Company Headquarters should be mobile, and on occasions like these
were volatile.
At 1 a.m. I roused the men, some 150 all told, and the responsible
task of issuing the bombs, wire-cutters, and other things commenced.
All these, invoiced with excellent precision by the Brigade Major,
Moore, had been carried up by the Berks. The shelling rarely ceased,
and I owed everything on this occasion to Corporal Leatherbarrow, who
showed not only steadfast bravery but skill. The platoons could not,
on account of the shells which sometimes fell in the roadway itself,
be paraded, and each received its share of bombs piecemeal by
sections. Food, to supplement which I did not scruple to issue some of
the next day's rations, was partaken of at 2 a.m., but it took long,
and half an hour later the whole party should have started upon its
journey across the mile of open fields to reach the assembly post.
Disposal of the bombs, the meal, and those many last attentions which
breed delay had taken longer than I had allowed. Time was getting very
short. I wanted to dodge the shelling, but had missed a quiet interval
that occurred at 2.30 a.m. At 3 a.m. I moved, leading the party in a
long column over the open ground north of Fayet to reach its eastern
side. The inevitable 'wire mats,' an encumbrance without which few
raiding parties ever started, hampered the progress. It was a pitch
dark night, nor was I certain of the way. To cover the mile and then
pass 150 men, ignorant of their whereabouts, silently and in single
file through a gap into No-Man's-Land ere dawn broke and our
bombardment started now seemed impossible. It was a serious quandary.
To go on might be to compromise not only the operation, but the lives
of 150 men, who would be discovered in daylight and in the open near
the enemy. But to go back was to jeopardise the reputation of the
Battalion.
I went on.
Great darkness preceded the dawn, which was expected shortly after 4
a.m. I found the road, the first crater, the narrow track through the
wire, and the empty ground beyond. A few minutes after the last man
had reached his place our barrage opened. Shells fell spasmodically
here and there for a few seconds; then all our batteries were shooting
together. Their fire was admirable, heavy and well-directed.
In the stumbling rush forward to reach the nearest wood--C Company to
the second crater on the Fayet Road--waves and platoons were rapidly
confused. The Germans, who found themselves attacked in flank and
rear, were totally surprised. They had not stood-to and many were yet
asleep. Some lights went up and a few sentries' shots were fired, but
it appeared that small resistance to our progress would be made. The
wire was trampled through, and for some minutes our men played havoc
with the Germans, who ran, leaving draggled blankets and equipment in
their trenches. Dug-outs were generously bombed, and explosions filled
the air as our men hastily used the weapons brought to hurt the enemy.
Three machine-guns fell into our hands. A miniature victory was in
progress.
But a turn of events followed; the trenches and woods beyond those we
had first entered were neither unoccupied nor weakly held. A force
certainly equal to ours was in opposition. After their first surprise
the Germans recovered, manned their reserve machine-guns, and opened a
fierce fire from front and flanks upon their assailants. Many of us
were hit, including Taylor, the officer of No. 15 Platoon, who was
severely wounded in the thigh. In No. 13 Platoon, which lost most
heavily, Allden and his Platoon Sergeant, Kilby, were killed. The full
programme could not be effected. It was getting light; so I decided to
withdraw. Most of D Company I found had already done this in their own
way, but the remainder now collected at my summons. Lance-Corporal
O'Connor with his two Lewis guns did yeoman service to stem what had
become the German counter-attack. Ammunition was running short, and
German stick-bombs obliged me, in order to save from capture those
less badly hit, to leave Taylor, whose wound made him quite helpless.
The wire, through which Sergeant Mowby had been busy cutting a path,
was safely passed, and an hour afterwards we had regained the sunken
road. I learnt that Jones, who had led the right of the advance, had
not returned. He with his men had narrowly missed being cut off when
the dawn broke. During the ensuing day this party had to lie scattered
in shell-holes till darkness enabled them to reach our lines.
The raid was hailed as a signal success for the Battalion. Two
machine-guns and one protesting prisoner had been dragged back to our
lines. The German trenches had been over-run and many of their
occupants had been killed or wounded. By a satisfactory coincidence
the troops whom we surprised were a battalion of the Jaegers, the very
regiment which after three hours' bombardment had raided us exactly
two months previously at Ablaincourt.
[Illustration: COMPANY SERGEANT-MAJOR E. BROOKS. V.C.]
Our losses, considering the scope of the operation, were heavy, but
not so proportionately to the number of troops of both sides engaged
nor to the severe nature of the fighting. Most of our casualties had
bullet wounds. The list, officially, was: Killed, 1 officer and 10
other ranks; wounded, 2 officers and 41; missing, 1 officer and 2. Of
Taylor I regret to say no news was ever heard. I left him wounded,
probably fatally, and quite incapable of being moved. The likelihood
is that he died soon afterwards and was buried by the enemy in the
trench where he lay. Allden and Kilby were a serious loss to the
fighting efficiency of D Company.
For their gallantry Corporal Sloper and Sergeant Butcher received the
Military Medal and Jones the Military Cross. Corporal Leatherbarrow
for his steadfast conduct in the sunken road was mentioned in
dispatches. To Sergeant-Major Brooks fell the honour of the
Battalion's first V.C., of which the official award ran as follows:--
'For most conspicuous bravery. This Warrant Officer, while taking
part in a raid on the enemy's trenches, saw that the front wave
was checked by an enemy machine-gun at close quarters. On his own
initiative, and regardless of personal danger, he rushed forward
from the second wave with the object of capturing the gun,
killing one of the gunners with his revolver and bayoneting
another. The remainder of the gun's crew then made off, leaving
the gun in his possession. S.M. Brooks then turned the
machine-gun on to the retreating enemy, after which he carried it
back to our lines. By his courage and initiative he undoubtedly
prevented many casualties, and greatly added to the success of
the operations.'
Infantry's recompense for raids and attacks was usually a short rest.
This time it had to be postponed by a brief tour in the front line. So
the next day, having exchanged positions with a Gloucester company, we
lay in holes and watched the 5.9s raising their clouds of red
brick-dust in Holnon. Fayet was left alone, nor did the sunken road
receive attention. It was a balmy day, the first of spring.
At night another minor operation preceded the relief. Orders were
given for B Company, which held the right of the Battalion's line, to
seize the much-disputed Cepy Farm and hand it over to the incoming
Berks. Moberly, who had recently rejoined his old Battalion, was in
command of this enterprise. The farm was reached and duly occupied,
but when the time for handing over to the Berks arrived our post was
driven out by a strong party of the enemy. This was the first of many
similar encounters at Cepy Farm. Luckily it did not long prejudice the
relief. Though chased a little on the way by shells, the Battalion had
an easy march to Holnon Wood, in which a pleasant resting place was
found. The trees and undergrowth, just bursting into green, presented
happy contrast to the dust and danger of Fayet. In the sandy railway
cutting, where the single line turns through the wood to reach
Attilly, companies sat during the day and slept secure at night.
Transport and cookers were near, and for a spell one was on terms of
friendship with the world.