Transcriber's Note:
Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as
possible, including inconsistent use of accents. Some changes have
been made. They are listed at the end of the text. Illustrations
have been moved.
Italic text has been marked with _underscores_.
[Illustration]
With the Ulster Division
in France.
_From Bordon to Thiepval._
_A Story of the 11th Battalion
ROYAL IRISH RIFLES
(South Antrim Volunteers)._
THIS BOOK
IS
Dedicated to the people of Ulster
[Illustration]
In remembrance of those
who have given their lives
for their King and Country.
WITH
THE ULSTER DIVISION
IN FRANCE.
A STORY OF THE 11th BATTALION
ROYAL IRISH RIFLES
(South Antrim Volunteers),
From BORDON to THIEPVAL.
IN FOUR PARTS,
INCLUDING PHOTOGRAPHS AND MAPS.
BY
A.P.I.S. AND D.G.S.
[Illustration: QUIS SEPARABIT]
"The sequel of to-day unsolders all
The goodliest fellowship of famous knights
Whereof this world holds record:
Such a sleep they sleep--the men I loved,
I think that we shall never more, at any future time,
Delight our souls with talk of knightly deeds
Walking about the gardens and the halls
Of Camelot, as in the days that were."
_From "The Passing of Arthur,"_
--LORD TENNYSON.
BELFAST:
WILLIAM MULLAN & SON, 4 DONEGALL PLACE.
[Illustration: THE KING REVIEWING THE ULSTER DIVISION.]
PREFACE.
The appearance of this little book needs a word of explanation. While
at the front with the Ulster Division, the late Captain A. P. I.
Samuels, had kept a very complete record of events, and collected
all the material available, with the object of being in a position,
some day, to publish an account of the doings of the Division, and
particularly of his own Battalion, the 11th Royal Irish Rifles (South
Antrim Volunteers.) It has been willed, however, that he should not be
spared to carry out his intention. Like so many of his gallant comrades
he gave his life for his country, being killed in action on September
24th, 1916. His name is now on Ulster's Roll of Honour, among those
whose death has brought unspeakable grief to thousands of our homes,
and yet has filled the hearts of Ulstermen and women with pride, and
bequeathed such renown to our Province as will last while it endures.
His papers, and the materials he had gathered have naturally come into
my hands, and I have endeavoured, though in a very small and inadequate
manner, to carry out the purpose for which they were collected.
This little book does not profess to be in any way a history of the
Ulster Division, nor even of the 11th Batt. Royal Irish Rifles. Being
compiled from the diary of Captain Samuels, supplemented by the records
he was able to obtain, its scope is necessarily limited, and the story
closes with the historic advance of the Ulster Division on the Somme at
Thiepval on 1st July, 1916. In some respects this necessary limitation
is a fitting one. To many in Ulster this great event marks in reality
the passing of the glorious Division recruited during the first six
months of the war, trained by Battalions in various camps in Ireland,
and finally, as a Complete Division, at Seaford and Borden, before
being sent to France. True, those permitted to survive that awful shock
of July 1st, and those drafts in reserve at home remained to carry
the fame of Ulster to Messines Ridge and Cambrai, but the Division
was never again quite the same as before that memorable day. At that
time it was unique. All its members were identified with the Northern
Province. Each Battalion was recruited from some particular part, and
even small districts and villages were represented separately in the
Companies and Platoons. It was inevitable that after the Somme battle
distinctive units should become merged, and that as the war progressed
officers and men should find their way to the 36th Division who were
not strictly representative of Ulster.
It is hoped that these memoirs may be of interest to Ulster people as
describing the everyday life of a unit of their Division during its
first eight months in France before the novelty of the life in billets
and in trenches had worn off, and become merely monotonous, and while
the point of view was still that of the native Ulsterman rather than
the British soldier.
[Illustration: THE REVIEW OF THE ULSTER DIVISION.]
PART I.
We fell in at 4 o'clock on the afternoon of October 4, 1915, on the
parade ground of St. Lucia Barracks, Borden. So mechanical a proceeding
is a regimental parade, and so extremely heavy were the packs that
we carried, that there was little opportunity for pondering over the
changed conditions that we were soon to undergo. As far as the men were
concerned--and the same applied to a large number of the officers--they
had left their homes and all that home implied when they left Ireland
three months before.
As we marched to the station we were struck by the apathy displayed
by the few civilians we saw. There was no cheering, waving of
handkerchiefs, or kissing of hands; even the children, making mud
pies on the side of the road did not trouble to look up. We were only
one of the many units that had passed down that same road during the
previous fourteen months. It was almost an everyday sight now for the
people who lived there to see regiments entraining for France. So it
was, that as we marched down the short road to Borden station, we felt
that we were only going on our business, and that those plain-clothed
civilians--many of them young and physically fit men--were going on
theirs. At Borden station the somewhat questionable spirits of the men
were revived by large cups of excellent tea, brought round by ladies,
a parting kindness which was greatly appreciated, and which none of
us will forget. The first train, with Brigade Headquarters, Battalion
Headquarters, and A and B Companies, steamed out of the station at 5-10
p.m., followed at 5-35 by the second train with C and D Companies.
Blinds were drawn in the carriages soon after starting, and with only
one stop the train ran through to Folkestone Pier, where we went on
board the transport "Onward." At 9-35 p.m. we left the shores of
England, bound for France and the unknown. A war-time cross-channel
steamer, converted into a troopship for short runs, is as uncomfortable
a form of craft as one can wish to sail in, and the "Onward" was no
exception to the rule. In addition to our battalion there were several
drafts, principally from Scotch regiments, on board. Luckily it was a
fine, warm night, and the sea was as smooth as glass. The dining-room
and lounge were boarded up and stripped as bare as a barrack floor,
while the corridors, and every available inch of accommodation below
were packed with men, in all those extraordinary attitudes, recumbent
and sprawling, which the sleeping Tommy can only adopt. On deck it was
just the same, and quite impossible to walk from one end of the boat to
the other. There were strict orders against smoking on deck, and the
task of the unfortunate officer, whose sense of duty was sufficiently
strong to prevent him from winking at any breach of discipline, was
unenviable. A cigarette, like Nerissa's candle, throws a long beam,
and every effort to reach the culprit was fraught with such curses and
mutterings from the bodies over which one stumbled, that it would have
disheartened even the adamant spirit of the Secretary for War himself.
We reached Boulogne at 11-30 p.m., and, after the usual disembarkation
formalities, in which the Disembarkation Officers and R.T.O.'s always
seem to exercise their unlimited powers to the full, the Battalion fell
in by companies about 300 yards down the pier. In the darkness and
heavy rain which now began to fall this proceeding took a considerable
amount of time, but after half an hour we moved off, all thoroughly
soaked through. At the best of times the way from the pier at Boulogne
to the Rest Camp, some distance out of the town, is not pleasant,
but that October night it was particularly bad. The streets were wet
and slippery, the men heavily laden with blankets and equipment, and
the road up to the Rest Camp led up a steep incline. The leading
company, however, stepped out at their normal pace. A few, mindful of
the landing of the original Expeditionary Force, and the ever famous
"Tipperary" scenes, burst into song, but the Frenchman retires early to
bed, and, with the exception of one long, thin arm fluttering a pocket
handkerchief from a top window, we saw no sign of life in the deserted
streets. After a very steep climb of about two miles, we came to the
Rest Camp, and a series of gasoline flares lit up the muddy flats on
which the tents were pitched. The mud, ankle deep, sucked up round our
boots, and torrents of rain danced in the puddles. It was a matter of
ten minutes before each company was allotted its area, and after that,
in less time than it takes to tell, the sleep, which only those who
have spent a night in a Rest Camp at Boulogne know, had fallen on all.
The day after we landed was an easy one. No orders came as to moving,
and the time was spent by our men in parading about the camp, sleeping,
and talking to the numerous women and small boys who wandered round
the railings, clamouring for "biscuit," "penny," or "bully beef." So
urgent was the appeal for these commodities, that the men took it for
granted that the entire population of France was starving, and handed
over that somewhat elusive "unconsumed portion" of the previous day's
ration, or any that remained of it. As the day wore on and word was
received that there would be no move until the following morning, some
of the officers were allowed into town in the afternoon. Boulogne in
war-time is not an interesting place, and an hour was sufficient for
exploration purposes. With the exception of a few French territorials,
guarding the bridges and railway station, the town seemed to be
entirely handed over to the British, whose motor ambulances glided in
every direction. The "Cambria," with her green and white topsides and
large Red Cross flag at her masthead, lay alongside at the quay, a
sight to make one home-sick, which brought one's mind back to Dublin
Bay and Kingstown Harbour in the days of peace. It rained off and on
all day, and was bitterly cold, an early foretaste of the bitter winds
we were to experience in France. We fell in next morning, Wednesday,
6th October, at 10-15, and marched to the Central station, where we
entrained. Speculation was rife as to where we were going, whether
Belgium, which savoured of Ypres and all that that name implied, or
the new line between Arras and the Somme. The latter was a sector taken
over by the British from the French in the July preceding, and had the
name of being quiet and pleasant compared to the more northerly parts
of the line. As the day wore on and we steamed South through Abbeville,
and finally came to Amiens, there was no doubt as to our destination.
From Amiens we moved on to a side line, and at 6-15 came to Flesselles,
a small town about 15 miles south of Amiens, where we detrained. It
was a lovely autumn evening, and with a slight breeze blowing from the
East, and as we stood fallen in ready to move off from the station, we
heard the low rumble and occasional growl of a big gun. From Flesselles
we had to march some twelve kilometres to Rubenpre, which was to be
our billeting town. Very heavily laden as we all were, officers and
men, again the mistake was made of setting too fast a pace. It was an
exceptionally warm evening, the men were tired, hungry and thirsty,
after the long train journey, and as an hour, and then two, passed by,
and we still appeared to be some distance from our town, the softer
hearts in the battalion collapsed. There is no necessity to dwell on
the unpleasant memories of our first route march in France; it was the
most trying experience for both officers and men that we had for many a
long day. As we marched East, and as the night grew darker, the flares,
and the lurid flashes of gunfire became more vivid, and helped to
keep up the interest of the men and distract their attention from the
general weariness; at any rate we were, after eleven months' training,
getting to the "Front" at last.
[Illustration: RUBENPRÉ.]
When we reached Rubenpré, at 11 o'clock at night, many of the men
done up and all very tired, we halted at the head of the village. The
second in command had gone on the previous day with the advance party
to arrange the billeting, but in the darkness, of a more than usually
dark night, the result of his effort was practically impossible to
find. The village consisted, as far as one could judge by the light
of electric torches or matches, of a series of long barns with doors
most of which were barred and bolted, and presented a remarkably
inhospitable appearance. A few days before we had left Borden we
had been paraded, and in the course of a ten minutes' harangue, the
Commanding Officer had dwelt upon the good name of the battalion,
and its excellent conduct while in England. He told the men that he
relied on them to maintain that high record in the country to which
they were going. Especially he told them to respect the religious
susceptibilities of the people. "Hanging over your beds in your billets
you will find crucifixes, pictures of the Virgin Mary, and the Saints,
and other emblems of the Roman Catholic Church and religion. You will
respect these emblems, and remember that you and your Allies have
come to free these people from the Germans." So throughout that march
from Flesselles to Rubenpré, the men had before them the vision and
anticipation of feather beds which all the saints in the catalogue
might adorn, so long as it was a bed. No such luck, however, as
feather beds could be hoped for in the land which the men had already
christened "No man's land." So dark was the night, and so impossible
to find were the billets allotted to each Company, that after nearly
half-an-hour's halt at the entrance to the village, Company Commanders
and Officers took the matter into their own hands, threw off their
packs and equipment on the side of the street, and led their worn-out
men down the village. They burst open the doors of barns, and put in,
here 20, there 30, men, despite the irate remonstrances of the owners,
often punctuated by some shrill scream from some female proprietor,
who thought that at any rate her last hour had come. At length, on
straw and hay, on floors hard and soft, everyone found a bed, and,
tired, as they were, one or two were heard to mutter, Orangemen though
they might be, that they wouldn't mind a bed even if the picture of
the Pope himself hung at the head. In this part of France there are
no farms. The country is dotted at intervals of a kilometre or two
with villages, some small, some large, mostly the same in appearance,
with their orchards, and grey church spires sticking up above the
knots of trees. All round these villages the country stretches away
in gently rolling plains, like a great checkerboard, no ditches or
hedges, reminding one of what England must have looked like in the days
of the "common field" system. This part of the country is intensely
cultivated, not an inch of land is allowed to go to waste, and in
war time the work is done entirely by young girls and old women. A
young man was never seen, either in the fields or villages; there
seemed to be few old men, and the small boys spend most of their day
at school. These Picard villages are intensely dirty, and Rubenpre
was even dirtier than most of them. The barns were in a bad state
of repair, and the yards were swimming with filthy water from the
great heaps of manure which were piled up in front of each house,
often right up against the windows, yet, curiously enough, the houses
themselves were in most cases neat and clean. The houses are built of
laths, plastered with mud and straw, poor in construction, and, owing
to lack of men, in many cases whole villages presented a dilapidated
and tumbled-down appearance. Rubenpré was, therefore, an inhospitable
place, and the reception we received from the people themselves was
not what we expected. We felt that we had come to the country to fight
for the people, and to free them from the enemy; in other words we
looked upon ourselves in a mild way as deliverers, and felt to a small
extent that we were entitled to be received as such. But our eyes were
soon opened,--those bolted barns and inhospitable entrances were an
index of the regard in which the people held us; we were received with
suspicion, and often with dislike, in every village to which we came
during our long peregrinations in Picardy. It speaks volumes for our
men to be able to say, as we can say with truth, that we always went
away with the good wishes and blessings of the people, and there were
many in the battalion who, when a day off came, would walk eight or
ten miles to revisit some of their French friends. It was only after
we had been some time in the country that we discovered the reason for
this coldness. Robbed first of all by the Germans, they had endured
successive invasions of Zouave, English, Scotch, and Indian troops, and
now an Irish Division, a form of terror formerly unknown was thrust
upon them in its entirety. We saw that there was a certain amount to be
said for their apparent inhospitality, and put up with it.
The first couple of days at Rubenpré were devoted to "shaking down." As
far as my Company was concerned, we were, on the whole, fortunate with
regard to our billets. There was at first a lack of straw, but this
was soon remedied, and the men very soon accustomed themselves to the
novelty of their surroundings. Large fatigue parties were put on from
each Company, and within a week the town was cleaner than it had been
for many a long day. The people looked on with quiet amusement, but
they too soon became resigned to what they considered the British mania
for cleaning.
Battalion headquarters were in a cottage, and at first a battalion
officers' mess was tried in an estaminet which had a room in which
a stove was riveted in the centre. In a short time, however, the
difficulty of running a four company and headquarters mess in the same
house became apparent, and two companies, A and B, seceded and formed a
mess of their own in another café. C Company and headquarters remained
in the same house, but before we had been many weeks in France the
advantages of company messes became evident. Our company headquarters
was in a disused and rather tumbled down house, but it had a good
orchard and field behind, which we used for musketry and range finding.
In return for the use of the house, we lent the owner a few men every
day as a help to thresh his corn and milk his cows. There was no lack
of fresh milk, eggs, potatoes, and apples. Eggs cost three sous each,
milk four sous per litre.
We remained at Rubenpré for about two weeks, and during that time had
the usual routine of parades and training as at home. We were inspected
by the G.O.C. Third Army, Sir Charles Munro, who expressed himself very
pleased with our bearing on parade. We had two or three brigade field
days and one divisional day, the latter the first divisional exercise
under the eyes of our new G.O.C. Division, General Nugent. The remarks
of our General on the day's performance were, to say the least of
them, hardly as complimentary as we should have wished. They left an
impression on the minds of those who heard them that will never fade,
and they had their effect on all ranks.
[Illustration: MAILLY-MAILLET.]
[Illustration: MAILLY-MAILLET SUCRIER.]
On 18th October we left Rubenpré to go up to the line for that
instruction period which everyone in the New Army in France knows
so well. As we got nearer to the line the sound of the guns became
more distinct, and the tiny puffs of white smoke in the sky from
the German aircraft guns was the first sign of the nearness of the
trenches. The country was just the same as at Rubenpre every inch
cultivated. At Varennes we were met by a band of the South Lancs.,
and played through the town and along the road as far as Forceville.
Here we halted in a field for dinners. After dinners we fell in, and
marched off by companies at ten minutes' interval, for we were now
within the zone of artillery fire, being about 3½ miles from the
trenches. It was only when we left Forceville that we saw any change
in the aspect of the country. We now passed several lines of heavily
wired trenches, which made long, white streaks across the otherwise
brown and regular landscape. In other respects there were the same
signs of intensive agriculture as far behind the line. We reached,
at length, Mailly-Maillet, which was to be our billeting town during
the instructional period. In peace time Mailly-Maillet had evidently
been a very pretty little town of about 1,000 to 1,500 inhabitants,
considerably better built and evidently much more prosperous than
any of the villages we had seen since we came to France. There was a
chateau with a fine avenue of elms which had its entrance on one side
of the main street. The chateau was a Brigade Headquarters, while the
avenue of elms was used as a park for transport, and was crowded with
limbers and G.S. waggons up to the axles in mud. There was not a pane
of glass to be seen in any of the houses; many were without doors,
and some were pierced by great shell holes. Generally Mailly-Maillet
had a dejected and war-worn appearance. A battery of howitzers close
by caused all the window-frames in the place to shake, and every now
and then a few slates would come tumbling down. As the town was
full of troops, and we were an additional battalion, our billets were
very poor. The men were in a very bad outhouse with little straw,
while C Company Headquarters was an empty room with a tile floor in an
extremely rickety condition. The first few days in Mailly were devoted
to working parties. A Company was attached to the 1st Batt. Essex
Regt., B Company to the 8th South Lancs., and C to the 1st Batt. Kings
Own Royal Lancaster Regiment, and D Company to the 2nd Royal Lancaster
Fusiliers; all belonging to the 12th Brigade of the 4th Division.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: IN TRAINING BEHIND THE LINES.]
The more or less eventful period of instruction which C Company
experienced with the King's Own began on the night of 19th October,
when No. 11 and 12 platoons working at the second line trenches on
the Mailly-Serre Road, were fired on by a machine gun. It was the
christening. On the 21st we paraded at 5-30 a.m. and with guides from
the King's Own supplied to each platoon, marched to the trenches by
platoons at five minutes' interval. The front held by the King's Own
ran from the Serre Road on the right to slightly below and to the
left of La Ligny farm. On our left was the Essex Regiment, while on
our right were the Lancs. Fusiliers. No. 12 platoon was attached to
A Company of the King's Own on the right of the Batt. line; No. 10
was attached to C Company in the centre; No. 11 to B Company on the
left, and No. 9 to D Company in reserve. I was with B Company on the
left with Vance. The line held by the 12th Brigade formed part of the
trenches taken from the Germans by the French in the preceding June.
These trenches, known as the "Toutvent" trenches, had been subjected to
a prolonged bombardment by the French. The latter would cease firing at
intervals, during which the Germans would man the front line, and on
the bombardment recommencing would retire to their dug-outs. This sort
of thing went on for over a fortnight, and finally, one morning, the
Germans got tired of coming out of their dugouts when the bombardment
stopped, and the French swept down from their trenches behind La
Ligny farm, and caught them. The victorious French advanced as far as
the village of Serre, but had to fall back in the face of a terrific
German counter attack, and eventually took up their position in what
had been the old German second line. This trench they consolidated and
held. The regiment which took the trenches was a local one, consisting
of men from the region around Hebuterne, Mailly, and Bapaume. There
had been reports of terrible outrages committed by the Germans on the
villages behind the lines, and evidence was found in the trenches
themselves to prove the truth of these reports. The story goes that
little quarter was given, and the French took few prisoners, the
Germans, caught like rats in a trap, being bombed in their dugouts.
B Company of the King's Own, to which I was attached, had its
headquarters in a dugout known as "The Catacombs." Built by the
Germans, no labour had been spared to make it shellproof and
comfortable. Twenty feet deep, cut out of solid chalk, it was about
twenty yards long by seven feet broad. It was divided into sections
for signallers, mess, and servants' quarters, but into the wall from
the mess were nooks containing beds for six officers. The whole inside
of this dugout was riveted with massive planks four to six inches in
thickness. There were five entrances approached by flights of steep,
narrow steps. This was typical of the living dugouts in this hive of
trenches. The English never built dugouts like this one in front line
trenches, owing to the difficulty of getting men out of them in a hurry
in case of emergency, and time after time they have proved death traps
to the Germans themselves. The method of training for a battalion up
for instruction is as follows:--Officers, N.C.O.'s and men are attached
to their opposite numbers. Company Commander to Company Commander,
Platoon Commander to Platoon Commander, sergeant to sergeant, corporal
to corporal, and sentry to sentry. For three nights this proceeding
is carried out, then, on the fourth night, the instructing companies
withdraw to reserve, and each company takes over a sector of line on
its own. Thus, bit by bit the officers and men are broken in. The
first night we were in the trenches was an ideal one. A full moon made
things easy, and it was quite possible to get the lie of the trenches
and those of the enemy. Opposite B Company the Germans were about 100
to 120 yards away; in the centre their trenches ran to within 40 yards,
and on the right about 100. There were a number of "saps" formed out of
what had originally been old German communication trenches. Sand bag
barricades built by each side in these formed the "sap heads." In one
"sap" these barricades were about 15 feet from each other.
One may forget the incidents of one's first night in the trenches,
but one never forgets the first dawn. Gradually, out of the darkness,
things begin to take upon themselves their proper shapes. The first
impression is that of desolation, for there is nothing so utterly
forsaken or forlorn as "No man's land" at first grey dawn. A maze of
misty barbed wire, some in loose coils lying on the ground, some draped
from stumps and stakes driven in at all angles, some in shell holes,
all in a shapeless and indescribable jumble, stretches for about three
yards in depth in front of the parapet. Then there is that desolate and
shell-pocketed strip of land which terminates with the German wire, and
beyond that again great heaps of chalk and brown earth begin to appear
as the daylight comes. These are the German trenches, and behind them
is the rolling country out of which the sun now begins to rise; country
that is in the hands of the Germans, away beyond the pale. Those
coils of rusty wire, hung on the rickety posts, form the boundary of
civilization.
[Illustration: ONE OF THE SERGEANTS OF "C" COMPANY IN THE TRENCHES.]
[Illustration: IN THE TRENCHES.]
The 22nd of October promised to be the most lovely day. Except for the
usual amount of desultory rifle and machine-gun fire at "stand to,"
there was nothing to show that the Germans were about to depart from
the normal state of inactivity that characterised the warfare on this
sector of the front. About 8 a.m. a corporal of the King's Own who had
been doing observation work reported that the Germans had removed all
their own wire, with the exception of a few strands, on their front
opposite the sector held by C and B Companies. This Captain Woodgate,
commanding B Company, confirmed himself. In the "Comic Cuts," or
Corps' Summary, of the previous day it was noted that the enemy had
also removed his wire opposite the line held by the French, north of
Hebuterne. The natural conclusion was, therefore, that he was going
to attack. The state of the wire in front of our own trenches was
wretched. A month before, during the period of fighting in Champagne
and the battle of Loos, the wire all along the front had been removed
in readiness for a possible advance, and little trouble had been taken
to replace it afterwards. At 9-35 a.m., Woodgate, Vance, Brown (one
of Woodgate's subalterns), and myself were having breakfast in the
"Catacomb." Suddenly--"whiz-bang, whiz-bang" right at the door of the
dugout. The blast from the shells knocked the cups and plates off the
table. There was a pause for a second, then a terrific explosion which
shook the whole earth. In half a minute we had on our equipment, and
Woodgate, followed by myself, Brown, and Vance, ran up the stairs of
the dug-out. The air was full of dust, and the ground in front of
us seemed to be in a blaze of bursting shells. "This way," called
Woodgate, and following him we ran down a communication trench leading
to the front line. We had only gone a few yards when we ran into a
man rushing back, blood pouring from his shoulder and arm. Woodgate
stopped and caught hold of him, calling to us to run on. We ran down
the trench, bending low, for a hail of shells was passing us and
bursting on all sides. In a few seconds Woodgate caught us up again. I
led, then Brown, Woodgate, and Vance. Suddenly, just round a curve in
the trench, and about ten yards in front of me, there was a terrific
explosion. I was lifted clean off my feet into the air, and thrown
flat on my stomach on the ground. Almost simultaneously another shell
hit the top of the trench, and before I could think where I was, or
recover my breath, the whole side of the trench leant over, and fell
on top of me. It was a wonderful sensation, and I remember saying to
myself aloud: "I wonder when this is going to stop." Still the earth
kept falling, and the weight on my shoulders and the small of my back
became oppressive. One thing was pleasing, there was dead silence under
ground. I began to heave with my shoulders, and took a deep breath.
There was no difficulty in breathing as the earth seemed full of air.
On the second heave I felt I was able to move, and after what seemed
ages I got my head and shoulders clear. I was firmly fixed from my
waist down, but in less than a minute had dragged myself out. I looked
round, and saw that the entire trench had been filled in. There was no
sign of any of the others, but a small bit of British warm coat was
sticking out of the hole where I had been which represented Brown. I
got hold of it and pulled hard. Gradually Brown emerged, cursing like
a trooper, and spitting clay out of his mouth. With little difficulty
we got Woodgate out, and Vance appeared behind him. We then ran on,
and when we came to the fire trench Woodgate called out: "Get the men
out of the living trench into the front line." The living trench was
one running just behind and parallel to the fire trench. In it were a
large number of what were called "funk holes," scooped out of the front
of the trench, in which the men slept when off duty. Leading from each
company in the fire trench there was a passage to the living trench.
It should be explained that by day the minimum number of men possible
are on duty in the fire trench. Sentry duty is most exhausting work,
and it is possible for one man by day to suffice where it would take
ten or even twenty men by night. In a company frontage of perhaps 500
to 600 yards three sentries, one to each platoon would be ample in the
firing line provided there was a clear field of view to the front;
but of course it is entirely a matter of situation and the nature of
the ground. Woodgate called to me: "You take the two centre platoons
and get everyone into the trench as quickly as possible." I ran along
the living trench rousing the men, who despite the terrific din of
bursting shells were mostly sound asleep, and telling them to get
out. Shells were falling mostly in the living trench and just behind
it, and I had to go round by way of the fire trench as the passage
behind was blocked up. Meanwhile the air was thick with flying debris
of every kind--posts, iron sheets, great baulks of timber were flying
everywhere as the enemy blew our wire to bits. In particular I watched
with fascination, a sheet of corrugated iron, blown from the roof of
a dug-out, which flew about in the air like a card, and dashed hither
and thither, finally coming down with a great slant on the parados of
the bay next to where I was. It is no easy matter to wake the sleeping
soldier, and as I worked my way down the living trench I thought I
would never get the men out of the dug-outs. Here and there, however,
where a bit of trench had been blown in, men were creeping out, pulling
their rifles from under the fallen clay. At last, after what seemed
an age, they began to file into the bays. The front trench was very
narrow, deep, and well sand-bagged, and once they had thoroughly
realised what was going on they knew it was the safest place. Owing
to the double number in the trenches nearly every bay was manned by
at least two men. Bayonets were fixed, and ten rounds fixed into the
magazine, and we felt quite ready for what I expected would come any
minute. The shell fire now became terrific, and practically the whole
living line was filled in, the shells just missing the front line and
lighting on the step of ground some ten yards inside separating it from
the living trench. Curiously enough no shells were lighting in the
fire trench. Two bays on the right of the two platoons under my charge
had been knocked in during the first few minutes of the bombardment.
They formed a small salient, and presented a very easy target to the
enemy, whose artillery was mostly operating from Serre wood. Once the
fire trench was manned there was little to do except go up and down the
trench and see that all was well. The stuff the Germans were sending
over was composed of every imaginable form of ordnance. The biggest
shells were probably eight inch, and the air was thick with aerial
torpedoes, minenwerfer, and oil drums. The latter came hurling through
the air turning over and over and exploding with a terrific crack,
making a very large crater. Aerial torpedoes, designed more for moral
effect than to cause actual damage, burst with a nerve shattering
explosion. I noticed that the closer one was to a bursting shell or
aerial torpedo the less the noise, it was more of a sharp click, the
greatest effect would be at almost 30 yards, under that the sound
did not seem so great, though the concussion of course was terrific.
Meanwhile the Germans, though they had blown most of our wire away
showed no signs of attacking. It was just one of those small intensive
bombardments known at the front as "a morning hate" or "straffe."
When this had lasted about an hour and a half, our artillery began to
retaliate. Those were the days when ammunition was precious, and each
battery strictly limited. It was a pleasant sound, however, to hear
the whiz of our own shells overhead and see a great mass of earth rise
from the German lines, and this had a marvellous effect on the men.
They at once became cheerful, the Lancashire men especially. "Thar goes
a Lloyd George for you," as the whiz of a heavy shell like an express
train overhead was heard. "Bah, he's a dud." "Say, Jock, the lassie
'as made 'im forgot to put in the vital spark." "There goes Fritz's
iron rations" as a salvo of shrapnel burst over the first line. On the
whole, however, our artillery retaliation was poor.
About 11-30 the bombardment began to die down, and by 12-30 it was
over. The damage done, considering the number of shells fired into such
a small sector was very small. Two bays on the right of "B" Company
were completely flattened, otherwise there was no damage done to the
fire trench. The living trench and communication trenches suffered
more. Two of the latter had been knocked in, while the living trench
along the company line had been badly battered. One very gruesome
effect was noticed. There were a large number of Frenchman's graves in
the parapet of the fire trench, for the French have a habit of burying
a man where he falls, whether at his post or not. A hole was opened in
the side of the trench, the body was shoved in, and the grave filled
up. A little cross surmounted by the dead man's cap, and often his
bayonet and rifle, marking the spot. In places where the fire trench
had been hit or shaken many of the remains stuck out, and in many cases
buttons and badges were "souveneered" by the men.
When the bombardment was over Woodgate told me it was the most severe
they had experienced since May 8th, at Ypres, and quite an unusual
occurrence on that front. Two men were killed and sixteen wounded,
very small casualties taking into consideration the intensity of the
fire. That night we dug a new trench behind the small sector blown in.
There was a full moon, and walking about on top was very interesting.
The ground was honeycombed with shell holes, while in all directions
unexploded shells were lying about. A trench which had been used by
the French for the purpose of burying dead had been unearthed in many
places and the ground was littered with old equipment, clothes, and
bones. I remember thinking it was the most appalling refuse heap I had
ever seen. Next day was very quiet, we began work on the new trench at
about 7-30, and I took charge of the three working parties in it. A
considerable amount of work had been done the night before, and only a
short piece remained to be dug in the centre. At 8-55 I told the men to
take a ten minutes "easy" and went up to the left platoon to see one of
the Sergeants about rations. I had gone about five minutes when a salvo
of "whiz bangs" (77 mm shells) burst right in the trench where the men
had been working, and immediately afterwards very heavy rifle fire
broke out on our right. The "stand to" was passed down and the rifle
fire went on for about half-an-hour, especially in the direction of
"C" Company. All had quieted down about 10 o'clock. I then ascertained
that a party of Germans had endeavoured to bomb "C" Company's trenches.
A very large number of bombs were thrown, and in all sixteen men
were wounded. For their coolness in this attack our men were greatly
commended, and one man, Andrew Marshall, of No. 11 platoon, was
specially recommended for devotion to duty. Badly wounded in the hand,
and unable to use his rifle, he refused to leave the trench, and kept
loading rifles for the men on the fire step.
The remainder of our time in the trenches was very quiet. On Sunday,
24th October, we took over the line held by "A" Company King's Own as
a Company the King's Own going back into support, and the following
evening we marched back to our billets in Mailly-Maillet. Our period
of instruction had been most useful, for "C" Company in particular. We
had experienced a bombardment and a bomb attack in both of which the
men had proved their metal, and shown what was in them. As far as the
Officers of "C" Company were concerned, those who came in contact with
Capt. Woodgate will never forget the lesson they learned from him. "A"
and "B" Companies attached to the Essex and South Lancs. Regiments
had a quiet time, but "D" Company attached to the Lancs. Fusiliers in
the Redan salient had their initiation into mine warfare, a platoon
being in the salient when the Germans blew up a mine without, however,
causing any loss of life. A good story is here told of Lieutenant
W. He was out one night with a small patrol, the pass word being
"Shakespeare." A large German patrol was sighted and W and his patrol
had to retire in some haste. W himself fell headlong into a sap on the
top of the astonished sentries with the ejaculation "For God's sake
let's in, Shakespeare."
[Illustration: FIENVILLERS.]
[Illustration: FIENVILLERS.]
We left Mailly early in the morning of October 26th, and marched
down through Forceville and Varennes to Puchvillers where we stayed
the night. Next day we marched to Fienvillers and went into billets.
Fienvillers was a better town than Rubenpre. There were better barns
for the men, and for a company headquarters mess we were lucky to get
a lovely house standing in its own grounds with bedrooms for each
Officer. We now had heard our fate, it was that the 107th Brigade was
to go up to the trenches to take the place of the 12th Brigade of the
4th Division, which was coming out and going to be attached to our
Division. Our two remaining Brigades were to be in Army reserve for
about three months. Our Battalion, with the 14th R.I.R. from the 109th
Brigade, was attached to the 12th Brigade under General Auley, taking
the places of the Essex Regiment attached to the 109th Brigade, and
Lancashire Fusiliers attached to the 108th. We joined the 12th Brigade
at St. Leger-les-Domarts on the 5th November, the King's Own being
billeted in the same town. We now began a new and extensive system of
training, both in march discipline and attack. General Auley, during
the first week that we were in his Brigade gave the Officers a series
of lectures on the retreat from Mons and the subsequent advance to the
Marne. We heard the story from his own personal point of view, which
made it a fascinating narrative rather than a tactical lecture. During
the five weeks in which we were attached to his Brigade we obtained
much practical and useful knowledge. In march discipline, especially,
we improved greatly. We were taught that the most men can do with
comfort is 112 paces to the minute. The pace was set from the rear and
not from the head of the column. Company Commanders riding at the rear
of their Companies were made to check the pace. The utmost importance
was paid to keeping in step, and keeping the sectors of fours well
dressed and well covered down. The rifle was carried at the sling,
never over the shoulder, the reason for this being that men, when they
get tired, will let their butts drop, and keeping hitting the man in
the sector of fours behind, thus causing loss of space in the section,
in the Company, and so on down to the Brigade and Division on the
march. We did many long route marches, and the General used to hide in
all sorts of weird places to watch us go past, and take us unawares.
ST LEGER
[Illustration: LIEUT. VANCE, CAPTAIN SAMUELS, LIEUT. YOUNG, LIEUT.
ELLIS.]
[Illustration: "C" COMPANY, ST. LEGER.]
During the time we were in St. Leger, Major Clarke (Officer Commanding
"C" Company) left the Battalion and joined the 108th Brigade as Staff
Captain. I took over command of "C" Company on November 12th. Our
Company headquarters were in the Cure's house, the Cure, like most of
his confreres in France, having gone to the front. On 27th we moved
from St. Leger to Buigny l'Abbe, a small village about three kilometres
from St. Requier where we were billeted until December 10th. Buigny
was an unhealthy low lying village, and we experienced a considerable
amount of sickness, principally influenza. Our stay of a fortnight
was unpleasant, it rained most of the time, and the people were
inhospitable. This, we found, was due to bad conduct on the part of a
Regiment which had preceded us there. The triangular pond, which is
a feature of all Picard villages, had in former days formed the fish
pond of the ancient monastery of Buigny l'Abbe; and for this reason was
held in more respect by the villagers than most ponds of its kind.
Unfortunately, whether by accident or design, some bombs were thrown
into this pond one night, and in the morning the villagers woke up
to find their pond gone, and in its place a chasm of liquid mud. On
investigation it was found that the bombs had burst in what proved to
be the roof of a subterranean passage leading from the monastery, and
through this the water had disappeared. During our stay in the town we
had working parties engaged in making good the damage.
On December 10th we rejoined the 108th Brigade, moving from Buigny
l'Abbe to St. Mauguille, a faubourg of St. Requier. This proved to
be the most pleasant town in which we had as yet been billeted. Two
Companies "B" and "C" were in St. Mauguille at Neuville, about one mile
from St. Riquier. We had excellent billets both for Officers and men,
and as we had now thoroughly acquired the nack of making ourselves at
home, settled down very comfortably. The people were most hospitable.
There were excellent hot and cold shower baths for the men, and a
Battalion laundry was set up. For our Company Mess, Monsieur Vivien,
the manager of a big phosphate works gave us the greater part of his
house, and he and Madame Vivien with their daughter, did all they could
to make us feel at home. St. Requier was a most interesting old town.
It had successfully stood siege by Henry V. and the English on two
occasions, but had been sacked and burnt by the Burgundians in the end
of the 15th century. Large portions of the walls still remain, and some
of the old towers. In a moated farm-house just outside the town Jeanne
D'Arc spent a night on her way to her trial at Rouen. Another fact
of great interest was that the ancient Abbey of St. Requier had been
founded by our own countrymen in the 6th century[1].
[Illustration: TOMB OF THE FIRST IRISH SAINTS.]
[Illustration: MONSIEUR VIVIEN AND FAMILY.]
We spent a happy Xmas at St. Requier, and as we were in billets decided
to make the best of it. The men were in excellent health and spirits,
football, shooting, and route marches keeping them in training. The
18th of December being "Lundy Day," was celebrated by some Derry
men and other Ulster boys, the following being a description of the
celebration by an Officer. Two Lundy's had been prepared, one large
and the other small. Some of the inhabitants suggested that they
were father and son. The father was about eleven feet long, stuffed
with straw, and with rockets put in unexpected places. He had large
wooden feet and wire knees, and his head filled with gunpowder and
surrounded by a large yellow trimmed hat in the shape of an Admiral's.
On his chest was a placard bearing the words "Lundy the traitor." The
procession, headed by torchlights and band, marched through the village
playing such airs as "No Surrender," "Derry Walls" and "The Boyne
Water." Lundy was then let down on a wire rope from a tree where he had
been strung up, and set on fire, amidst great cheering and boohing.
He was well soaked with petrol and burnt excellently. Every now and
then someone gave him a shake and his knees wobbled in most realistic
fashion. Bombs made of jam tins were thrown into a pond just beside
him, and of course broke the windows of houses in the vicinity. The
procession then reformed, and marching to the top of the village, where
Lundy junior was burnt with like ceremony.
Christmas, of course, produced a series of dinners given by the
Officers Commanding Companies and Battalion Headquarters. To read the
menu cards it was hard to believe we were in France, and that this was
the second year of the war. One particularly elaborate dinner was given
on Christmas day, to which we invited Madame Vivien, our kind hostess,
and her family. The following is a copy of the menu in which most of
the guests are represented.
Potage Vivien.
Poulets Roti au Capitaine.
Petits pois Lieutenant.
Rosbif au Docteur.
Pommes de terre Louis (the little son).
Fruits, plumb pudding, Xmas desserts.
Cafe.
Vins--Muscatel--Bordeau--Whiskey.
TOASTS.
Le Presedent de la Republique.
Le Roi D'Angleterre.
Mesdames, Messures Vivien.
Les Allies au paix glorieuse.
A service was held in the ancient Abbey of St. Requier on Christmas
Day, and a sacred concert, which gave our men an opportunity of
listening to Christmas music.
An incident happened about this time at St. Requier which caused
no little excitement. A French billet belonging to the Downs (13th
Battalion Royal Irish Rifles) went on fire. At the sound of the fire
alarm every one turned out to assist the French people who stripped to
the waist were hard at work trying to save their farm. The fire was
raging fiercely round the stables and out-houses, and it was quite
impossible to save all the horses, some of whom were burned to death in
their stalls. It was a horrible sight.
[Illustration: THREE SERGEANTS OF "C" COMPANY.]
[Illustration: AT ST. RIQUIER.]
On January 8th, our Battalion moved to Bernavillers. We were now
beginning to think of the trenches again, and many were the rumours.
Everyone seemed to know for certain our exact peregrinations during
the next few months, but in truth no one could tell from day to day
what our next move would be. There were also rumours of a more pleasant
character, but so far only spoken of with bated breath, the one and
only hope of our existence--"Leave" had begun. Our first "leave" and
all that the word means. There is no doubt of it that the first leave
is the best, but your first leave you are then indeed a hero, whether
from billets or trenches, and your dear people who have not yet become
accustomed to those short ten days have waited and watched for it
with an intense longing and pride in their hearts; is it any wonder
one's blood thrills with the thought of that never-to-be-forgotten home
coming.
At Bernavillers an excellent concert party was formed by Lord Farnham,
called "The Divisional Follies" or "The Merry Mauve Melody Makers."
Their first concert was honoured by a visit from The Most Rev. Dr.
Crozier, Lord Primate of Ireland, who had come to France on a tour
among the Irish Divisions. He had already paid a visit to the 107th
Brigade, who had been having a strenuous training in the trenches ever
since October. They had escaped with very few casualties.
[Illustration: OFFICERS OF "C" COMPANY.]
[Illustration: ST. LEGER.]
My Company now got orders to move to Beauval, where we took over
billets from the Y.C.V.'s (14th Battalion Royal Irish Rifles). They
were the cleanest billets I can remember in France, and the Y.C.V.'s
deserve great praise for the way in which they were left for us. After
a week of preparation we moved on to Canaples, and from there to
Martinsart where we again manned the trenches, and went in alongside
the 9th Inniskilling Fusiliers by Companies, "C" and "D" Companies in
front with "A" and "B" in reserve. The next week we went into support
with "D" Company, and "A" and "B" took our place in front. This time we
were not attached to a regular Battalion for training, but took over
part of the line ourselves. Our period in the trenches was uneventful,
it was a quiet part of the line, and the trenches were deep and well
made. This time we gave the Bosche 500 to every 50 of theirs, so all
taken into consideration we were lucky. The weather, however, was by
no means favourable, the trenches being full of slush and water. A
heavy fall of snow also made the ground in a bad condition, and the
men suffered greatly from the cold, which was intense. Several new
Officers joined our Battalion about this time, for which we were very
thankful, as leave was able to proceed without difficulty, two Officers
being sent each week. On February 29 our first death occurred, poor
young Watt of No. 12 platoon. He was killed by a shell while standing
outside the door of his billet in Mesnil, and buried in Mesnil Ridge
Cemetery. From this time on we went into the trenches by Battalions,
alternately with the Downs (13th Royal Irish Rifles). Our casualties
were not great, but always a few, the expected result of trench
warfare. Indeed, if it had not been for a tot of rum at "stand to"
on those very cold mornings, I feel sure there would have been more
work for the hospitals. About March 6th the weather began to improve
and we occasionally felt dry. We now began to think about giving
Jerry something to stir him up as he seemed to have gone underground
completely during the cold weather. Evidently Battalion Headquarters
also felt that the time had come to stir for we received a message to
supply a specimen of German wire as it was wanted by the corps. The
job was given in "C" Company to Young, our scout Officer, and four
other scouts. On a dark and snowy night they crept out on patrol, and
procured a good specimen about a yard long. The other Companies also
procured specimens and the Corps appeared satisfied with results.
Our Batteries also began to wake up, and we kept them well informed
as to the position of the German transports, which from this time on
never got a moment of peace. The 10th Inniskillings on our right,
under command of Colonel Ross-Smyth, got a terrific shelling from the
Bosche on the night of the 10th-11th of March. Shells came over at the
rate of 60 to the minute, but the 10th showed splendid coolness and
gallantry, keeping up a steady fire from the front trenches throughout
the bombardment, which was evidently intended by the Germans to cover a
raid on our lines, similar to one which took place elsewhere the same
night. An Officer, describing the bombardment in a letter, writes--
"The Bosche has been very prodigal of shells for a day or two, all
along the front, but particularly on the somewhat unpleasant sector
occupied by the "Derry's." On this particular afternoon he had
subjected it to a smart bombardment with "heavies," field guns, and
trench mortars. Then he fell short and waited. At eleven o'clock
precisely he opened fire with guns of all calibres. Over the Derrys
he burst shrapnel, reserving his high explosive for the Donegals and
Fermanaghs, and for the Brigade on their right. Not content with
peppering the line, the supports, and the reserves, he shelled half a
dozen villages to the rear, with which he did not as a rule concern
himself. It was a very dark night, and the flashes of the guns seemed
to cut through the darkness like spear points. Before the Bosche had
been firing five minutes our guns had begun to reply to him, and the
eighteen pounders commenced to whiz over our heads on to their front
line, and soon the men in the trenches heard the welcome whistle of
a high travelling howitzer over their heads in the right direction.
Then indeed the din was indescribable, so fast and furious did the
game become that at one time it seemed as if the boom of the big
guns, the harsher bark of the small, the explosion of the shells,
and the tearing crash of bursting mortars were all blended into one
continuous roar. The trenches of the "Derrys" had an ugly time of it.
Dug-outs were caved in, and traverses smashed down, one whole sector
of the front line being practically ploughed up. At one time the enemy
proceeded to pound the flank out of one Company with high explosives
for several minutes, then lifted to the opposite flank and gave it
the same measure. This evidently appeared to him a satisfactory idea
as he repeated the manoeuvre. But the Company Officer had by now
appreciated his tactics, and by his work undoubtedly prevented a great
number of casualties. Gradually the German fire on the front line
slackened and ceased, though it still continued overhead, and our
"heavies" now warmed up to their work showed no inclination to give
up. It was at this juncture that a sentry came running back from the
sap head to report that he had seen Germans moving in front of the
wire. The order was given to the men to stand up on the fire step,
and send bursts of rapid fire in the direction of the German line. If
the raiders had intended coming over this caused them to change their
minds. The "Derrys" stood to till morning, but nothing fresh occurred.
Through the night the men prayed their Officers to lead them over to
vengeance, but for that they will have to wait. The loss was slight
considering the intensity of the bombardment. When morning came the
"Derrys" learned that the famous raiders had entered the trenches of
the Battalion on their right, which, by the way, did not belong to the
Ulster Division, and carried off an Officer and nine men as prisoners.
It was a workmanlike job without a doubt, for the raiding party had
come and gone within ten minutes."
[Illustration: Bombs found on night patrol just in front of BEAUMONT
HAMEL, March, 1916.]
Several of the men of the Inniskillings earned commendation from
Colonel Ricardo for conspicuous gallantry on this occasion; their names
were Private D. Little, Private J. J. Young, Lance Corporal Black, and
Private W. Dinsmore. They were serving as Company Officers, Orderlies,
Signallers, and Messengers. Captain Cruickshank, of Omagh, also showed
great coolness and valour on that occasion.
The weather still continued fine, and our time was spent in building
new traverses, and rivetting and sandbagging the parados and firesteps.
Bosche aeroplanes, taking advantage of the fine nights, crossed our
lines, and green flares were sent up from the enemy to show our
positions. The Germans would then send over a number of shells, and we
had several casualties, Lieutenant Waring of "A" Company being hit by
shrapnel, and Privates Moffat and McBride of "C" Company badly wounded.
Poor Moffat subsequently died from his wounds.
We were now stirred to think of raids and night patrols. The following
is an example of a patrol done by one of my Officers and some men of
"C" Company. Lieutenant Young, Sergeant Renshaw, Riflemen Storey,
Pollock, M'Dowell and M'Kelvey. March 16th. "C" Company Patrol Report.
"Patrol went out from Sap in Sector 41 at 7-30 p.m., consisting of
one Officer, one Sergeant, and four Riflemen. On leaving our wire we
turned north, striking sunken road which runs north-east in direction
of German trenches. After going about 100 yards down this road we
turned off under a ditch running north-west from the road. There were
a number of small thorn trees on this ditch, and we could distinctly
see footprints and elbow marks round them, also pits had been dug which
could be used by snipers. Further along the ditch we came to a lone
tree, which can be seen from Sector 49 in our lines, here we halted.
About 20 yards from the tree we discovered a wire which came from the
direction of the German lines. Following this we found it entered the
parapet of a sniper's pit, just beneath the lone tree. We then dug
out the wire, and discovered it was attached to a square box covered
with felt. This box we opened, thinking it contained a telephone, but
instead found four German grenades with the detonators attached to the
wire. We quickly disconnected the wire, and dug out the box. Not far
from the spot we found another German grenade which we also took with
us. At 10 p.m. we returned to our own trenches. A working party of the
enemy could be heard, but it was difficult to say from which direction
the sound came. Otherwise, everything was normal."
G. O. Young, Lieutenant.
[Illustration: THIEPVAL CHATEAU.]
[Illustration: MESNIL CHATEAU.]
On March 18th we went into reserve, and were billeted in Englebelmer,
being relieved on 24th by the 13th Royal Irish Rifles (The Downs). This
time the 11th Battalion East Yorks were attached to us for instruction.
They saw a fair amount of shelling for their first period in the
trenches, the Germans putting a lot of trench mortars over on Thiepval
hill. All that remained of the Chateau at Thiepval being the walls,
about as high as the hall door, and a few holes where windows once had
been, in all about 7ft. high by 20ft. long. The German trenches lay in
front of it, on the carriage drive, and ours right up to the other side
of the avenue, almost into them. Not a pleasant place, with an active
sniper in the Chateau. Our trenches also ran through Thiepval wood,
in which the trees were now thick with foliage. The birds built their
nests and sang merrily enough on those Spring mornings. They did not
appear to mind the shelling, even a cuckoo could sometimes be heard,
reminding us that winter was over "this winter of our discontent."
Spring had indeed come, a time when the birds call, the trees call,
all nature calls for life, while we were there to kill and to be
killed. There were moments when a lull came in the busy day's work,
when the monotony of trench warfare left time to think, that thoughts
such as these arose.
[Illustration: Thiepval Wood. G. Sector.]
We spent Easter in billets, in Martinsart village. The 23rd of April
being Easter Sunday, a general holiday was given to the Battalion.
Amiens, once the capital of Picardy, was about twenty-five miles
distant, a long ride, but an interesting old town, and well worth
visiting. Its fortifications have been turned into Boulevards, but
it still retains its old citadel, and the Cathedral of Notre Dame is
indeed a masterpiece of Gothic architecture. The great straight road
that leads from Amiens to the front, or Albert, is the great route
nationale, running from Rouen through Amiens, Albert, Pozieres, Le Sars
and Bapaume on to Mons and Valenciennes. It was on this road that the
famous Gordon Bennet races took place, and a better road for riding
on or motoring on, it would be hard to find. The road is lined on
either side with poplar trees, and a screen used to be hung from tree
to tree to hide the traffic to and from Albert. There are few trees
left now, and only the barest stumps, owing to bombardment. Amiens, as
a rule, was out of bounds to both Officers and men, unless they were
the possessors of a pass, but on Easter Monday official permission
was granted to all, and many availed themselves of the opportunity to
explore the ancient town. It was a chance to see civilization again,
and to dine in a restaurant. At that time Amiens had not been badly
shelled, even the Bosche aeroplanes seemed to be busy elsewhere, and
life went on much the same as in towns at the Base. People went about
their business and pleasure with very little thought of the enemy who
were comparatively few miles away. The ride back at night from Amiens
was rather an interesting experience. After the first six miles the sky
was lit up like sheet lightning. Then the villages all became dark,
no lights to be seen, then came the halts at the different outposts,
the constant flashes and rockets in the sky, awful, yet fascinating.
Nearer Albert the sound of the guns became clearer, and in the distance
could be seen the great Church tower of Notre Dame de Brebieres with
the leaning figure of the Virgin holding the infant Christ above her
head. For over a year she had hung at an angle of 15 degrees below
horizontal, face downwards to the street below. The French people
believed that the day the holy figures fell, would see the end of the
War, and that the German shell which threw down the blessed Virgin of
Brebieres would shatter the throne of the Hohenzollerns.
[Illustration: ALBERT.]
[Illustration: RUINS OF ALBERT.]
Our Battalion being now out of the trenches the Companies were divided
among the small villages around. My Company had the luck to be billeted
in Autuille, a small village on the Ancre. We were able to get
plenty of amusement there between rat hunting, fishing and bathing.
Captain E. and I spent several afternoons trying for trout, and sent
our finest specimen to "B" Company with compliments. The Ancre at
Autuil was an excellent place for fishing, and this would have been
a pleasant occupation were it not for the fact that snipers found us
out in a short time. The bathing place was hardly 600 yards from the
German lines. On May 7th the "Tyrones" had the honour of carrying
out the first raid made by the Division. The following is contained
in a special order of the day issued by Major General O. S Nugent,
D.S.O., Officer Commanding Division. "A raid on the German trenches
was carried out at midnight on the 7th inst., by the 9th Battalion
Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers, the raiding party consisting of Major
W. J. Peacock, Captain J. Weir, Lieut. W. S. Furness, Sec.-Lieut. L.
W. H. Stevenson, Sec.-Lieut. R. W. M'Kinley, Sec.-Lieut. J. Taylor,
and 84 other ranks. The raid was completely successful and was carried
out exactly as planned. Six German dug-outs, in which it is certain
there were a considerable number of men, were thoroughly bombed, and
a machine gun was blown up, while a lively bombing fight took place
between the blocking detachments of the raiding party and the Germans.
Having accomplished the purpose of the raid the party was withdrawn
with the loss of one man killed and two wounded. The raid was ably
organised by Major Peacock, and was carried out by the Officers and
men in accordance with plan, the discipline and determination of the
party being all that could be desired. The Divisional Commander desires
that his congratulations should be extended to all who took part in it."
Brigadier-General Hickman in a special Brigade Order says--"The
arrangements and plans reflect the greatest credit on Colonel Ricardo,
Major Peacock, and the Officers concerned. The whole scheme was
executed with great dash and determination, with cool judgment and
nerve."
The following awards were issued--Major Peacock received the D.S.O.,
Sec.-Lieutenant Stevenson the Military Cross, Sergeant Barker, D.C.M.,
and Lance-Corporal D. Armour, M.M.
[Illustration: THE RUINS OF ALBERT CATHEDRAL.]
At this time an important change took place in the Command of the
11th Battalion Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers. Lieutenant-Colonel W. F.
Hessey was promoted to Brigadier-General, and given Command of the
110th Infantry Brigade. His place was taken by Major G. H. Brush,
Second in Command of the 10th Battalion (Derry Volunteers). The
following farewell Order was issued by Lieutenant-Colonel Hessey to his
Battalion. "Lieutenant-Colonel Hessey wishes God Speed to all members
of the 11th Inniskillings, and thanks them for the loyal support they
have given him from the raising of the Battalion to this day. He leaves
the Battalion with very sincere regret, but with feelings of great
pride that he has had the privilege of Commanding such a fine lot of
Officers, N.C.O.'s and men, and that their "esprit de corps" has made
the Battalion a worthy part of the 27th Inniskilling Regiment of Foot."
During the following days we spent alternate periods in and out of
the trenches, with little excitement to keep our spirits up. On May
16th we again took over from the 13th Battalion Royal Irish Rifles
(Downs), and this time a spell of beautiful weather favoured us and the
trenches were quite dry and habitable. We had the usual machine gun
fire at night, especially from the direction of Thiepval Chateau, also
a large number of shrapnel shells and whizbangs fell in our Sector.
The enemy was apparently very busy during the night on his front line
opposite our Company. We could hear the sound of picking and shovelling
going on, and stakes being driven into the ground. During 18th-19th
the enemy gave us little peace, between trench mortars, heavies, and
whizbangs. Several salvoes of shrapnel managed to do considerable
damage to our inspection trench and Whit Church Street. During a heavy
bombardment, while the shells went over and round us at a tremendous
rate I was lying flat on my stomach to avoid some shrapnel that burst
near. I looked round to see if there were any casualties among the men
following, and noticed a head emerging from the earth which had fallen
in all round; suddenly there was a splutter, the head moved, and a very
solemn voice said "Boys o' boys it's aboot time the referee blew his
whistle," his thoughts must have been far away on the Balmoral football
ground, perhaps he was thinking of a tough fight Malone v. Queen's, in
the old days.
We were glad to notice that the German trenches opposite suffered
severely on the retaliation of our artillery. The following nights were
busy putting up wire and sending out patrols. On one occasion a sentry
reported having seen an aeroplane fall in flames some distance to the
east of Thiepval, just before it fell three planes had been observed
very high in the air, and the sound of machine-gun fire heard coming
from them.
On the 20th there was considerable enemy machine gun activity, and a
very large number of flares were sent up during the night from the
German lines. At 9-30 p.m. two red flares were sent up apparently
from the German salient opposite "Mary Redan." Immediately afterwards
two salvoes of shrapnel were fired, and appeared to burst in the
neighbourhood of "Mary Redan," while enemy search lights could be seen
near Serre.
During the 21st the enemy continued his constant machine gun fire, and
at night our wiring parties were much hampered on this account, one
being forced to come in. At 10-30 p.m. on the 22nd, red rockets were
sent up from the German lines north of the river Ancre. Immediately
afterwards a heavy bombardment by enemy artillery began, apparently on
our lines in front of Thiepval, which lasted about half-an-hour. We had
a more or less quiet day on the 23rd, and on the 24th were relieved by
the 13th Royal Irish Rifles. "C" Company was sent to Autile, "B" to
South Antrim Villas, and the other two Companies to Mesnil. We spent
a pleasant few days in billets, the usual rat hunts and bathing in
the Ancre gave plenty of amusement to the men. On May 31st we got our
orders to join "D" Company in Martinsart, and the following day moved
to Harponville via Bouzincourt and Varrennes, where we rejoined our
Brigade, and started Divisional exercises on a large training ground
known as the Clairfaye trenches. These trenches had been dug from
aeroplane photographs, and were an exact reproduction of the German
trenches opposite Thiepval. It was here that we heard the terrible news
of the death of Lord Kitchener, to whose genius we owed so much. During
our period of training the 107th Brigade held the trenches at Thiepval.
[Illustration: THIEPVAL VILLAGE]
On June 15th, at 3 p.m., the Battalion marched off, and with the 9th
Royal Irish Fusiliers bivouacked in Martinsart Wood. Martinsart village
was already occupied by numerous troops sent up in readiness for the
great battle of the Somme. We sent working parties down to Thiepval
wood to help in the digging of assembly trenches. Our working party was
very unfortunate, and out of No. 11 platoon we had six men wounded,
Miller, Lyle, Brown, Galloway, Quinn, and "B" Company also lost eleven
men.
On 17th several new Officers joined the Battalion in Martinsart Wood,
among them Lieut. J. Marshall, posted to "B" Company, afterwards proved
to be the only officer of the 11th Battalion who went over the top on
the 1st July without getting wounded. All was bustle and excitement, we
heard we were to hold the line from Thiepval Wood to La Boiselle and
Fricourt.
On 22nd the Tyrones went into the trenches. We had a fine concert in
"D" Company Mess, and I had a last talk to the N.C.O.'s. On 23rd we
paraded at 7-45 p.m. and marched to our trenches in Thiepval Wood.
Our Company Officers consisted of the following--myself, in command,
Captain Ewart, Lieutenants Vance, Ellis, Young, Carson and Murphy. It
was a very hot march but a glorious day, and all of us were in good
heart. "C" and "D" Companies manned the front line, with "A" and "B"
behind, "C" holding from Elgin Avenue to Garden Gate at the head of
Cromarty Avenue. "C" Company Headquarters were in Thurso Street, and
Battalion Headquarters in Cromarty Avenue. On the 26th, at 2-30, we had
planned a gas attack, but there was not much wind, and the gas did not
go well. Young and myself happened to be the next casualties, luckily
both of us slight. Young was gassed while on duty at a gas cylinder,
and I got a touch of shrapnel from a whiz bang. It meant No. 29 C.C.S.
for both of us, and very reluctantly we had to leave our men just on
the eve of the first and greatest battle ever fought by the Division.