On the 9th November 1914 the right of the Indian Corps was still just
north of Givenchy and in touch with the French. On this day our Allies
projected some move, and I was asked if we could take over that village
and its front, but anxious as I always was to help them in every way, I
asked the Field-Marshal not to extend my front, as my strength was quite
insufficient for such an extension. Sir John French, who had come over
to see us, quite agreed and the matter was settled. I, however, sent one
of my battalions to Givenchy as a support to them for a couple of days.
Later on I was ordered to extend my front to include Givenchy and up to
the La Bassée Road south of it. The order was of course carried out, but
it was very unfortunate for us, as when, very shortly afterwards, we
were heavily attacked on that front my numbers were altogether too small
for the extended line, and, as I shall tell, the Indian Corps was very
roughly handled and Givenchy was temporarily lost to us; it was retaken
by the heroism of the 1st Manchesters of the Jalandar Brigade, and again
lost, and finally only saved by the arrival of a Division of the First
Army Corps which was in reserve behind the British positions.
On this date I withdrew the 9th Bhopals from the trenches at the request
of their C.O. for a few days’ rest, as the battalion had been subjected
to a very severe shelling and had suffered losses which necessitated a
short change.
In diary of November 10 I find, “Our fellows tried their hand on a mine
of sorts to-day. Half a German fell into the Bareilly Brigade trenches.”
This was the beginning of mining warfare for us; though in this case the
plant was only placed in a trench and fired by electricity.
Lord Roberts had been appointed Colonel-in-Chief of the Indian Corps,
and we had the proud satisfaction of receiving the following telegram:
To Sir James Willcocks, Indian Expeditionary Force.—Allow me to
welcome you and the Indian Expeditionary Force which has come to
fight in Europe shoulder to shoulder in the cause of liberty and
truth, and in upholding our great Empire. I am proud to be your
Colonel-in-Chief.—ROBERTS.
I replied and said how rejoiced we all felt at such a message from the
Chief under whose command the Indian Army had so often been led to
victory.
In another telegram, to Sir John French, Lord Roberts also expressed his
high appreciation of the “magnificent gallantry displayed by all ranks,
British and Indian.” Our great Hero, the victor of many fights, never
forgot his Indian comrades. God rest his soul!
On November 12, Lord Roberts paid us his memorable visit. On the lawns,
now deep in slush, in front of the Château of Hinges and whilst the roar
of the guns shook the windows of the building, we drew up to receive the
great Field-Marshal. The Indian Corps was alone represented, and that
only by the Headquarters Staff and such other officers and men as were
not on duty in the trenches. Facing the entrance door was drawn up a
Guard of Honour of all available men, British and Indian. It was a mixed
body, but it was all I could muster at short notice; amongst them,
however, were two Indian officers who knew Lord Roberts personally, and
there was not a man in that small gathering who did not know the name
and the fame of India’s greatest “Jangi Lat” (War Lord).
There are times in life, fortunately rare, when one feels as if some sad
moment was approaching and you cannot assign any reason for it. This was
one; the solemnity of it was in any case visible, for it was a great
occasion in itself for the Indian Army to have with it in the heart of
France the aged soldier who had long been its Idol; but there was some
other indefinable feeling, and most of us felt it, that whatever might
come this was to be the very last meeting in the Field of War of the
Army of India and its beloved Chief. We all knew that it was the
lion-heart of this great man which had determined him to come across the
sea just once more, and by his presence encourage the troops of which he
was the Chief in name and fact, and then, having done his Duty, which
was his life’s watchword, to return to England and have us in his
keeping.
As the motor-car pulled up our Colonel-in-Chief stepped out, still with
that brisk step so well remembered by all who had ever served with him,
and we felt, as Tennyson has sung of another warrior:
This is England’s greatest son,
He that gain’d a hundred fights,
Nor ever lost an English gun.
It was a parade, but it was a duty every man present considered his
greatest privilege and honour to have attended; and who would have
missed it?
After shaking hands with every officer, Lord Roberts inspected the
Guard, saying a word, with that charm he possessed, to each British and
Indian officer and old soldier; and finally giving a military salute
entered his car, bidding me also in, and we moved off to Headquarters of
the Meerut and Lahore Divisions.
During his short visit the sky was clear but a biting cold wind chilled
us all, and no doubt this, combined with his insistence in pulling up
and alighting at each spot where representatives of every Indian
battalion and Cavalry regiment of the Corps (straight from the trenches)
were collected along the route, helped to bring on the fatal illness
which immediately followed.
During the motor journey I was able to give him an account of our doings
and to answer numerous questions he put to me. I also had the great
benefit of his advice on some important disciplinary points, on which I
would have consulted no man except him, and on which no one else could
have formed so sound and just an opinion.
At Locon he stopped about half an hour, talking to General Anderson and
his Staff and inspecting the few troops present. His pleasure was
manifest when he met his old comrade Sir Partab Singh and also the
Maharaja of Bikanir and the young Prince of Jodhpore and others from
India. Here he addressed the troops in a few words, bidding us do our
duty and saying he would keenly follow our fortunes. His last words
were, “The fame of your doings will live for ever in India.”
Passing on to the Headquarters of the Lahore Division, he saw General
Watkis and his Staff drawn up in the Square at Estaires, and spoke for
some time to an Indian officer who had served with him. He also saw
General Wadeson and officers and men of the Secunderabad Cavalry
Brigade.
Not the least touching part of his visit was the fact that he was
followed by another car, in which travelled one of his daughters, the
guardian angel of his last hours. The Indian officer to whom he had just
spoken said after he had left, “Sahib, the English are a great race.
Brave men, brave women. Peace or war they always hold fast together. The
victory is already yours.”
As I gave him my last salute and the hurrahs of the troops ceased, I
felt the Indian Corps had a friend who was the lodestar which would
guide us on our path of duty and that his visit had increased our
strength. And only two days later the great Field-Marshal passed away.
An honoured guard of Indian soldiers watched over the house where rested
his body, and England had lost one of her most precious possessions and
the Army of India its truest friend.
Most of the Indian Princes and Chiefs in France crossed to England and
attended the funeral, and, to show how heartfelt was the sorrow of our
Allies, I received letters the very next day from General de Maud’huy,
commanding the Xth Army, and General Maistre, commanding the XXIst Corps
d’Armée, who were on our right, deploring the great loss our country,
and more especially the Indian Corps, had suffered.
He will not be forgotten “while memory holds a seat in this distracted
globe.”
I was informed at this time that it was now possible to shorten the line
held by the Corps. I was naturally pleased when the change was carried
out on the night of 15th-16th November. The 8th British Division
relieved the two left brigades of the Corps, and our right then rested
on Givenchy and our left on the La Bassée-Estaires Road. On the 11th
November Captain H. Wicks, 1st Seaforth Highlanders, sent out a small
party of his battalion under command of Lieut. D. MacKenzie to destroy
three houses in his front. My chief recollection of this affair is, that
one of the party in describing it said when they got within ten yards of
the centre house the Germans shouted, “Allenmechty English,” and bolted.
It was told as if it was a huge joke, and somehow the story has always
been one I laugh over. The party split up and entered all three houses,
and were proceeding to set them on fire with the help of straw when the
Huns attacked and drove them out, and from the upper story of one a
machine-gun suddenly began to spit lead. The Germans had been surprised,
but now it was the turn of our men. Covered by our own fire from the
trenches the party got back without a scratch. Even such minor
skirmishes had their lessons. In this case it was found that the Boches
lived in cellars by day; and instead of wasting lives the houses were
demolished by shells shortly afterwards.
During the night of 11th-12th November the Germans sapped up and dug a
short parallel within thirty-five yards of the left trenches of the
Connaught Rangers, and the next night the Irishmen attacked this new
trench; but the enemy anticipated the attack, which failed, and at dawn,
elated with his success, launched a counter-attack. This was carried out
with determination and succeeded in penetrating our trenches and
temporarily capturing a machine-gun.
But this triumph was short-lived as the Connaughts immediately rushed
the lost position, recaptured the gun, bayoneting such Germans as were
found, and turned the Maxim on to the remainder. A German officer showed
great bravery on this occasion; he remained to the last at one end of a
trench and picked off three or four men with a rifle before he would
retire, and then managed to escape. Twenty of the enemy lay dead on or
near our parapet and two prisoners were taken. We suffered only eight
casualties, amongst them three men killed and one officer wounded,
Lieut. E. Morris.
The Irishmen did not mean to allow the enemy to hold on to his new
parallel, and Colonel Ravenshaw arranged an assault for midnight, 14th
November, when sixty men under Lieut. A. G. Moutray silently rushed the
trench, supported by the cross-fire of two machine-guns. A few Germans
were in occupation, of whom Moutray shot two himself. Our casualties
numbered only five men. Sergt. Brown was commended for good work, and
the parallel ceased to trouble us.
Daily small encounters were now the rule, with the more important of
which alone I shall deal. On 13th November General Keary, commanding the
Garhwal Brigade, ordered an attack on some German trenches which had
previously been assaulted but had reverted to the enemy. Lieut.-Colonel
W. R. Brakspear, 2/3rd Gurkhas, with six platoons of his own corps, and
about sixty men of the 2/39th Garhwalis under Major Taylor, who had been
in the previous attack on the same trench, carried out the assault.
The troops to fill in the trench when captured were drawn from No. 4
Company Sappers and Miners and 2/3rd Gurkhas. The assault was made at 9
P.M., but was at once shattered on its left and centre, and only a party
on the right succeeded in reaching the enemy trenches, where Lieut. H.
F. McSwiney and his Gurkhas quickly accounted for twenty-five Huns and
made four prisoners. Brakspear, who had by this time himself come up,
worked along the trench to his left until held up by a party of Germans
behind a traverse. McSwiney tried to rush the enemy by climbing the
parapet but was severely wounded in the gallant attempt.
Seeing that further help was necessary if the small party were to drive
them from their comparatively safe position, Brakspear himself went back
at considerable risk through a hot fire and, having organised a relief,
together with Major E. G. Drummond advanced towards his goal; but the
fire was very heavy and made doubly destructive by a searchlight which
played incessantly on our men. Drummond was killed as he left his own
trench; the advance, however, continued until a number of high-explosive
shells suddenly fell in succession all round the attackers, disjointing
their efforts and scattering all but a mere handful who, with Brakspear,
managed to regain their trench.
Meantime the position opposite to the traverse was being splendidly
maintained by Subadar Dalkesar Gurung, but it was now past midnight and
time to return, as that hour had been fixed for the covering Artillery
fire to help our retirement, and this was already beginning. Finding
that no further object was to be gained by remaining, McSwiney and his
party moved back, but finding that Captain R. D. Alexander, who had been
severely wounded near the traverse, had not been brought in, as he
refused to be moved before the other wounded, McSwiney and his Subadar
with a few men went back to search for him, but finding no traces had
once more sorrowfully to retire, and on reaching our trenches, drenched
in blood, McSwiney fell in a swoon.
Glorious fellows! Which was the braver, the gallant Captain who refused
to be moved lest one of his men might be left in the hands of the enemy;
or the equally gallant Subadar who, facing almost certain death,
returned, severely wounded as he was, to try and rescue his comrade?
Fine deeds, performed in company, by men of different birth, but as
Thomas Moore sings:
Shall I ask the brave soldier who fights by my side
In the cause of mankind, if our creeds agree?
The object of this attack was to destroy the trenches; it was not
achieved, as it did not come as a surprise to the enemy, and once
launched our men were heavily handicapped by the German searchlight, an
apparatus with which we were of course unprovided. Also the Huns had
considerably improved and re-aligned their trench by throwing back a
flank since our last assault on it and our scouts had not reported any
changes. Another cause was that some men in their excitement started
their rush with cheers contrary to orders. The prisoners also declared
that our shells were not exploding. But the best lesson learned from
this attack was, that it is easy enough to capture a small portion of a
trench; it is a very different matter to hold on to it, unless ample
provision has been made beforehand to ensure success. We were still
learning in those early days of the war.
Colonel Brakspear behaved with great coolness, always being in the place
of greatest danger. Drummond also of the 3rd Gurkhas only arrived that
day, and I had wished him luck as he started for the trenches. McSwiney
(son of a very old friend) received the Military Cross for his
gallantry. Captain H. Bennett was missing.
The following were brought to notice by the Division: Subadar Dalkesar
Gurung, Havildar Bahadur Thapa, Naik Rupdhan Dun, Lance-Naik Kabiram
Thapa, Rifleman Ganpati Thapa, all of the 3rd Gurkhas; and Lance-Naik
Jaman Singh Khatri, Rifleman Gajbir Bisht, and Ran Bahadur Saki, of the
1/9th Gurkhas.
The Gurkhas had fifty-seven other casualties, including two Indian
officers.
Major Taylor, who had twice attempted the attack of this same trench,
and Captain A. W. Robertson-Glasgow, both of the 2/39th Garhwalis, were
missing, and the remaining losses of this battalion amounted to
thirty-eight.
The 3rd Gurkhas were raised as far back as 1815, so the regiment was
celebrating its 100th year of existence. Its name had undergone many
changes, but in its ranks was the same breed as had originally taken
service with the British Government after the fall of Malaun and Kumaon.
In 1891 a second battalion was added, and in 1908 the present title of
the 3rd Queen Alexandra’s Own Gurkha Rifles was conferred on the
regiment. They possess seven battle honours, from Delhi (1858) to Tirah
and the Punjab Frontiers. At the outbreak of war, the 2nd battalion,
with the Indian Corps, was commanded by Lieut.-Colonel V. A. Ormsby, who
was later promoted to a Companionship of the Bath.
The Lahore Division had borne the first brunt of the fighting in France,
and now almost daily it was the turn of the sister Division to be
employed in some scrap or raid. No one who reads the records of the
Corps during its first two months in France can fail to be struck by the
energy and initiative of the Divisional Commanders, Brigadiers, and
C.O.’s of units; if it was not in attack, it was in defence of our own
trenches; but, one or other, the Corps was as incessantly employed as
any in Flanders. The numbers were being fast reduced and there were no
daily ships bringing the sorely needed reinforcements; whilst that
invaluable man, the British officer, was irreplaceable.
On the night of the 16th November the 6th Jat Light Infantry had their
first experience of carrying out an attack on German trenches.
Associated with them in this well-conceived scheme was half of No. 3
Company Sappers and Miners. The party consisted of 125 rifles of the
Jats under command of Major P. H. Dundas and sixty Sappers under Captain
E. H. Kelly, R.E., and I cannot do better than epitomise the report of
these two officers, written with a modesty that makes them very
readable.
The Jat report states that they were ordered by the C.O. to advance at 9
P.M. between two saps, made by the enemy towards the 107th Pioneers and
4th Cavalry, and to hold the portion of the German trench between these
saps till 9.45 P.M., by which time the Pioneers would have reconstructed
their trench (which had been partially destroyed by shell-fire), and the
Sappers and Miners filled in the saps. Instructions were also given re
the part to be played by our heavy and field guns. The Infantry were
extended, and advanced with orders not to fire until the objective was
reached. As they cleared the line of their own wire, the German saps on
both flanks opened a heavy fire and some casualties resulted. At sixty
yards they crossed a deep drain, and at 100 yards entered a trench
loopholed to the front and rear. (Ominous!) This trench was unoccupied,
but Germans were seen retiring. The mouth of one sap was closed and an
advance with the bayonet began, so as to protect the Sappers who had
begun work. Meantime the enemy who held the trench in prolongation of
the portion captured by the Jats opened a heavy but ineffective fire on
our men. The Jats replied vigorously, being rewarded by much groaning
and yells proceeding from the Hun trench. The same success attended our
men holding the right sap and a prisoner was captured. Lieut. Liptrott,
who was on the left, also butted against the enemy. Before 10 P.M. our
own guns and rifles in rear began to become troublesome, and the Jats,
very well handled, began their prearranged return, a party moving along
the top of the saps to finish off any enemy bottled up in them. Under a
considerable fire from both flanks the retirement was coolly carried
out, one of the Company officers being killed and another wounded,
whilst in among the dead was a frightened German prisoner; he clung to
Major Dundas rather than risk his skin in charge of what he deemed to be
the terrible sepoys. The casualties were reported as two Indian officers
and sixteen men wounded; and the only other Indian officer and ten men
were missing and certainly killed. Then followed a list of booty taken.
The Sappers and Miners under Captain Kelly and Lieut. E. O. Wheeler
advanced towards both saps. The left sap was full of Germans, who
promptly ran. A large portion of the trench was filled in and Wheeler
then retired, bringing with him some German grenades and other articles
left behind by them. Kelly with the right party found Germans retiring,
and a few of them were bayoneted. The traverses were then destroyed and
booty collected before the time for retiring. The total losses of the
Sappers consisted of only three killed and one wounded.
This ended a small enterprise which has been given in full as a sample
of how things should be done, and the manner in which our Indian troops
worked in those days, whilst the ranks still contained some of the fully
trained men with which the Corps arrived in France.
Major Dundas received the D.S.O. and Kelly the Military Cross. Liptrott
was unfortunately killed shortly afterwards. The following were brought
to notice for good work: Jemadar Abdul Aziz and Colour-Havildar
Chagatta, both of them Sappers. The latter was awarded the I.D.S.M.,
being already in possession of the Indian Order of Merit. I knew this
fine Indian soldier well. The Jemadar received the same decoration.
In the 6th Jats Havildar Jailal received the I.O.M., and the following
won honourable mention: Jemadar Incha Ram, who, although seriously
wounded, continued with the attack; Havildar Badlu, also seriously
wounded; Sepoy Risal, and lastly four gallant fellows who stayed till it
was almost too late searching for the body of their Indian officer.
The 6th Jats were originally raised in 1803, and, like other regiments
of the Bengal Army, had owned various names and numbers. In 1903 it
received its present designation, and is composed of eight companies of
Jats. Its colours bear, amongst others, such varied names as Ghazni and
Kabul 1842, Maharajpore, Sobraon, Afghanistan, and China.
Lieut.-Colonel H. J. Roche was in command when the war began. He was
later given the C.B., and his battalion have good reason to be proud of
the part they played.
During the month of November the weather was such as to test severely
the stamina of the Indians. Cold and wet accompanied frequently by
biting winds is a plain definition of the climatic conditions during the
first two weeks; then snow began and by the 20th the whole country was
clothed in a deep mantle. In the midst of the sea of mud, with scant
bedding for so bitter a climate, lying in foul and insanitary trenches,
often frozen hard, practically underground dwelt in thousands men, to
most of whom ice and snow were unknown, their only knowledge of it being
the distant views some had obtained of the mighty Himalayas, peopled
with a myriad gods, towering like Titan sentinels over their plains and
valleys. Imagine their feelings when now they found themselves in their
embrace, faced by every devilish device of murderous science, and all
from a sense of duty to an alien race. It is a subject for thought. It
is a great triumph of fellowship for the British race. A Gurkha officer
whom I asked one day what he thought of it all replied: “What can I say?
We live in a well and look up at God’s sky by day, and at German flares
by night, but we are going to win.”
The subterfuges employed by the Indians were at times quite amusing,
though not perhaps very much so for the actors. A sepoy, native of
Rustam, was out on patrol duty in “No Man’s Land” when a German
searchlight caught and exposed him in a semi-kneeling position, and the
enemy only fifty yards distant. He had probably in his day taken part in
uninvited nocturnal visits but not in quite similar circumstances;
however, his native wit came to his rescue, and immediately rising up he
stood still and saluted his foes. Surprised by the apparition, the Huns
ceased firing and the Indian, now salaaming, moved on and entered their
trench.
In the German lines facing the Indian Corps were one or two scoundrels
from India, types of traitors which are common to all countries, who,
finding Hindustan too hot for them, and preferring treachery to the
noose which awaited them if they returned, had taken service with the
Germans in pre-war days. What use was made of them it is difficult to
say, but probably such leaflets as were dropped over our lines from
aeroplanes were their production, as well as an occasional call from
their trenches shouted in Hindustani advising our men to desert and join
the generous Huns.
Be this as it may, our sepoy, seeing he must now feign hatred of us or
go under, by signs and gestures soon assured his captors that his one
object in life was to cut the throats of the English, and to give
emphasis to his bloodthirsty proclivities he passed his hand across his
throat, repeating with angry looks, “English, English.” This was enough
to at once bring him a liberal supply of rations and other trench
luxuries. His next business was to discover some means of escape, and he
managed by counting on his fingers and saying, “_Beimān_” (unfaithful)
whilst pointing to our trenches, to impress his would-be friends that
other scoundrels as black as he were willing to desert. Coffee followed
this interesting bit of news, and after much palavering the sepoy was
allowed to leave on his mission. Creeping carefully he rejoined his
battalion and the Huns saw him no more.
All ranks felt the bitter cold and there were a large number of
frost-bites and trench feet as they were called, but taken all round the
Indian troops stood it far better than I had ever believed possible. A
factor in their health was the extraordinarily good arrangements for
giving the men baths and providing them with hot water. Once out of the
trenches (such occasions were rare in those times) a man was certain to
get a hot tub of sorts. All kinds of contrivances were gradually
furnished by Government; heaters, clothes driers, fumigators, travelling
boilers were sent out by kind friends and by the “Indian Soldiers’
Fund.”
The Indian with water of any kind is like a child by the sea, he must at
once dabble in it. Now the sea is pure, but our sepoy has a bad habit of
entirely ignoring all sanitary laws where his _pani_ (water) is
concerned; so long as it is water he will drink from any pool or wash in
any gutter, and much as I admire and like him, I have in my time been
obliged to inflict very severe punishments to lead and keep him in the
path of sanitation. Hence when he found clean hot water was as easily
procured as muddy cold water, he naturally chose the former.
Riding out one day I saw a shower of paper descending earthwards
evidently dropped from an aeroplane. They were leaflets printed in Hindi
calling on our Indian soldiers to rise against the British. Comically
enough the call was headed, “True information”! thereby proving the
Germans can sometimes perpetrate a joke. Here is the text:
The Sheik Ul Islam has proclaimed a Jihad (Holy War) on the Id (a
festival day) at Mecca against the British, Russians, and French. The
Sultan of Turkey has started a war against the same oppressive people,
and he has been joined by the King of Afghanistan.
But German humour is at best singular. Here was an incitement to Hindus
and Mahomedans alike to revolt, and yet only Mahomedans are named, and
to make it more ridiculous the language was Hindi, or the language of
Hindus alone. I took a copy to the trenches of one regiment of each
class and to one or two mixed Corps of both and read them out. The
message was greeted with loud laughter, and one humorous Punjabi
Musalman shouted out, “We now understand what ‘Made in Germany’ means!”
On the 19th of November Prince Arthur of Connaught visited our
Headquarters, and I took him round the billets of the Secunderabad
Cavalry Brigade. He was much pleased with all he saw, and the Jodhpore
Lancers drawn up near a farmhouse looked weird, coated with snow, a
thing none of them had ever touched before.
On the 20th November I was the guest of General de Maud’huy commanding
the Xth French Army at St. Pol. I always repeat that I have never served
with finer soldiers than the French, nor known better Generals and
Staffs than those of our great Allies. The Headquarters Staff were
located in the most ordinary house in the main street, but the general
order that prevailed all round showed the perfection to which a Command
Headquarters can be brought. It was certainly far simpler than anything
in our own Army. The General kindly furnished me with a very large scale
map of the whole Western Front, giving all details of the German Corps
from Nieuport to the Swiss Frontier. An ordinary Corps commander was not
allowed such luxuries with us. I still hear from him, and shall
certainly make a point of again going to see him wherever he may be.
The next day H.R.H. the Prince of Wales honoured the Corps by coming
round and seeing all troops not in the trenches. The Indians were
specially delighted and cheered lustily. Just after he left I was
motoring to our Reserves to watch some newly manufactured trench mortars
fired, when I saw a new German Taube come down; it was the first in our
lines and the excitement of the sepoys was worth watching. The two
officers were taken prisoners and I saw them later at my Headquarters.
Regarding the trench mortars mentioned above, this first attempt was
most successful. The Indian Sappers and Miners soon had the matter in
hand and before long we were using them with good results. Fancy in this
great war mortars made at first of wood and cast iron being employed and
considered a great adjunct to our means of defence. The old British Army
and the Indian Corps had to learn many a lesson before the days of
15-inch guns and unlimited ammunition.
Every effort was made to alleviate the trials of the men in the
trenches. Braziers and other roughly constructed devices were
manufactured by our ubiquitous Sappers. Earthen vessels filled with
charcoal, when procurable, were distributed along the trenches; extra
socks were issued and straw was rolled under the puttees. A percentage
of gum boots were sent out by the “Indian Soldiers’ Fund,” and woollen
gloves were freely supplied. General Headquarters did all they could to
help us, and the Medical Officers and unit commanders were indefatigable
in their labours to keep the men fit during the severe ordeal of that
ghastly winter.
In this war, when of necessity the Armies lay for so long opposite to
one another in the same positions, the public naturally associated the
Infantry soldier with the greatest hardships which had to be borne. He
lived in the trenches, he held the front line when attacked, or led the
assault when in advance, but behind him was the man with the big guns.
This latter had some advantages over his Infantry comrade: he was
farther from the rifle and machine-gun, and out of the range of the
grenade and trench mortar, but without him no front line could have been
held for an hour and no attack would ever have been possible.
Moreover, he was the target most sought by the enemy; the prying
aeroplane could easily trace the trenches, but its chief prey was the
battery in rear, and once found it very soon received the concentrated
attention of the hostile guns. The men in front knew all this well. They
loved their field guns, their constant companions and always the nearest
to them. The howitzers were their closest allies when the Hun trench had
to be searched and knocked about; the biggest pieces behind them were
the loyal parents who closely supported them when necessity arose, and
watching over all farthest back were the monsters in those days still in
a state of manufacture, affectionately spoken of in later times as
Grandmothers.
And so the gunners, like those farther forward, took their full, and
often more than full, share of the daily work. They lived in great
discomfort, for you cannot be constantly moving guns in concealed
positions; the labour is vast, and so long as you are undiscovered so
much the better to remain there. Hence when the pits and dug-outs filled
with water, they just made the best of it, and the confidence inspired
by these splendid soldiers and their guns was something they could not
help realising, however modest.
The Indians, even more than their British comrades, put implicit faith
in the Artillery. So long as Jack Sepoy could hear the moan or the roar
of the missiles from his beloved guns speeding overhead towards the
enemy lines he rested assured that come what might all was well.