TRENCH WARFARE IN THE SALIENT: October 1st, 1916, to July 14th, 1917.
On the 1st October we left MANANCOURT and entrained at EDGE HILL,
arriving in billets at L’ETOILE at 11 p.m. The following day we marched
to LONGPRE, where we entrained for POPERINGHE, where we were billeted
for the night. The next day we marched to BRANDHOEK, where we were
in huts for the next few days, furnishing a daily working party to
dig a cable trench near RIGERSBERG CHATEAU. During this period Second
Lieutenant G. Duerden joined us again, and the following Officers as
reinforcements:--Captain A. Walsh, Second Lieutenants G. Tong, F. C.
Jenkinson, V. Mather, A. O. Knight, I. Haworth, F. L. Vernon, E. G.
Faber, A. Bardsley, A. Ashton, E. E. Tweedale, H. Holden, H. Swaine, R.
V. Reed, B. H. Williams, J. E. Ordish, R. Bissett, J. H. Ogden, and H.
K. Vipond.
During these days we did Company training, in preparation for our debut
in the SALIENT.
THE SALIENT! How can one hope to describe it so as to bring home its
realities to those who have never seen it? Yet without some such
description the history of the next few months would be about as
informative as the stereotyped official bulletin, “On the rest of the
Front there was nothing to report.”
Picture then POPERINGHE, a typical Belgian town, with here and there
a house partly demolished by shell fire, crawling with troops of
all kinds, with shops, restaurants, and estaminets, sprinkled with
English notices, such as “Divisional Headquarters,” “Wind Dangerous,”
“Officers’ Club,” “Divisional Canteen,” and so on. This was our centre
of civilisation. Beyond it stretched eastwards the YPRES road, fringed
at first with tall trees and a sprinkling of houses, and peopled with
troops, lurries, guns, limbers--coming and going, twelve kilometres of
it, with deep ditches on either side, and beyond them fields which had
once been cultivated but were now given over to “dumps,” camps, battery
positions, and so on, a few fields being still under cultivation by
women and old men.
After six kilometres we come to VLAMERTINGHE, badly knocked about,
but with a certain number of houses still standing and used by our
troops; a thin slice of the tower of the church remaining to give the
Hun a range mark; from this point the road is under enemy observation,
and one begins to notice shell holes and broken trees becoming more
frequent as we near YPRES railway station, to which trains still
run, but only at night with all lights out, drawn very slowly and
silently by a mysterious engine which shuts off steam and proceeds by
electricity or something of the kind as it nears YPRES.
[Illustration: Map No. 2
THE YPRES SALIENT]
Standing on the “platform” at YPRES station at night, you see the enemy
flares going up all round you except on the west, and you realise that
you are indeed in “The Salient.”
The city of YPRES itself, which at first sight seems like a jumble of
ruins, you find presently to contain hiding-places for dozens of guns
and hundreds of troops; whole streets of houses remain standing, mostly
minus windows or doors. By day, the streets are almost deserted; by
night, though no lights are shown, the city is alive with parties of
troops, mule-drawn limbers, waggons, and motor lurries, bringing up
rations and ammunition and the baggage of incoming Battalions.
All these come along the road from VLAM after dusk, and when things
are in full swing the road is a wonderful sight--mile after mile of
mixed Army vehicles tightly packed along both sides, the middle full of
marching troops. Sometimes motionless, sometimes crawling cautiously
on in the dark, sometimes disturbed by a shell falling and killing a
few men or a mule or smashing up a lurry in its crashing burst, hour
by hour the stream goes on, the very life-blood of the Infantry in the
Salient.
From YPRES to the front line was at this time about two miles, first by
road, then tracks, then trenches or breastworks, through wrecked and
ruined country, weedgrown and desolate.
Each Battalion held a “sub-sector” of the line, Battalion Headquarters
being in some group of dugouts or ruined chateau about a mile behind
the front line with the reserve and support Companies somewhat nearer,
and two front line Companies. In addition to the Infantry Battalions,
there were posts held by machine guns, this weapon having been taken
out of the hands of the infantry, trench mortar sections, and other
details doing various jobs.
The country in general is rather like HUNDRED END, the soil being like
the Lancashire clay, but wetter and stickier.
On the 15th we moved up to YPRES, where we were billeted in the
RAMPARTS. These RAMPARTS billets merit a special description. The city
is guarded on the east and south by a rampart and moat, the rampart
being about 50 feet high, and of equal thickness and formed of earth
taken out when the moat was dug, faced with brick on the outside and
crowned with trees.
Under this mines had been made, stuffy, cramped places full of frames
and props and dimly lit with electric light, generally overcrowded and
always damp and rat-infested, but still places where the Battalion
in Brigade reserve could lie down and sleep in comparative safety,
except for the danger of gas. To the south of the MENIN GATE, an ugly
gap in the ramparts through which the MENIN ROAD issued from the city
and where it was never safe to linger, was one of such mines usually
occupied by two Companies, to the north a similar one and the Officers’
dugouts, Battalion Headquarters being further back in the city. On the
night of a relief, men would arrive in small parties in the pitch dark
and stumble along the street, which was always a foot deep in mud, till
they found the gas sentry, when they would disappear within the dark
entry with a grunt of relief.
During the next few days working parties went up the line every night,
and on the evening of the 19th we relieved the 1/4th King’s Own in the
RAILWAY WOOD sector.
RAILWAY WOOD had once been, as the name implies, a wood beside the
MENIN railway; when we made its acquaintance it was just a churned-up,
slimy bit of rising ground, approached by a decent communication trench
called WEST LANE crossing the muddy BELLEWARDEBEEK, beyond which were
the breastworks and dugouts and cookhouses forming BEEK Trench, a mass
of slime and rotten sandbags which it was part of our job to drain,
duckboard, and rivet with corrugated iron. As nearly every trench in
the Salient was in a like state, and repairs were soon spotted and
strafed by the Hun, and as every available man was daily employed in
repairs, et cetera, it will be seen that “Old Bill’s” opinion, that
the war would only end “when the whole of Belgium had been put into
sandbags,” had much to justify it.
Going up to the front line from BEEK Trench on a dark night was no
picnic. You started along a narrow alley winding uphill, your hands
feeling the slimy sandbag walls, your feet wary for broken duckboards;
now and again a hot, stuffy smell, a void space in the wall, and the
swish of pumped-up water under foot proclaimed the entrance to a mine.
Gradually the sandbag walls got higher and the alley narrower, and
in places you stumbled into daylight where the trench had been blown
in and got covered with blue slime wallowing across the block; round
corners you dived under narrow tunnels two or three feet high, finally
emerging into the comparative open of the front line trench.
When we were in Brigade reserve in YPRES, the working parties sent
out at night often had this journey to do, after a two mile tramp and
heavily laden with shovels, duckboards, barbed wire, and so on, but
there was no falling-out, and little grousing.
A feature of this sector was the craters and shell-hole posts out in
the open in front, garrisoned by small parties of men; there they
lay--cold, wet, and sleepy--for hours on end, visited at intervals by
an Officer or N.C.O.
On the 20th Captain Ord was appointed Commandant of the 164th Brigade
Officers’ School, and Major A. H. Haslam joined us. On the 22nd 16
“Minnies” fell on our front line, wounding Second Lieutenant J. F.
Walmsley and J. H. Ogden; the following night we were relieved by
the 1/5th King’s Liverpool Regiment and went back to YPRES to the
PRISON and MAGAZINE billets. These two buildings had not been greatly
damaged, and the MAGAZINE was fairly shell-proof. We sent the usual
nightly working parties up the line till the 27th, when we relieved
the 1/4th King’s Own in WEILTJE sector, to the north of RAILWAY WOOD;
here the Hun was further off and things were a bit more comfortable.[F]
Second Lieutenants Reed, Tong, Vipond, and Vernon were posted to
other Battalions on the 29th. The tour was quiet on the whole, and on
the 31st a piece of the enemy’s parapet fell in, giving our snipers
a splendid chance--they claimed three certain hits. That night we
were relieved by the 1/5th King’s Own and marched back to C Camp,
a collection of wooden huts distributed in a roadside copse near
BRANDHOEK, a little bit of Heaven to weary and sodden men coming out of
the line. Here we could sleep and feed in peace, do refitting, physical
jerks and parades, and play football.
During the month no less than three Officers and 55 men had gone sick
and been sent to Field Ambulance (also known as “Fanny Adams”)--for
which the change to the Flanders clay was no doubt largely responsible.
We remained at C Camp till the 8th November, when we moved up to YPRES
again and were billeted in the RAMPARTS and the SCHOOL; the latter was
a large building on the MENIN ROAD outside the city and made a decent
billet till the gunners put a large gun in it, with the usual sequel.
During the next three days we sent a working party of 250 up the line
every night. Major Crump rejoined the Battalion on the 11th.
On the 12th we relieved the 1/4th King’s Own in the RAILWAY WOOD
sector, B and C Companies being in the front line, A and D in support
in BEEK Trench. Captain Houghton rejoined the Battalion.
On the night of the 13th the moon shone beautifully and disclosed our
wiring party to the Hun about 100 yards off. Second Lieutenant Higson
was hit; the next night our Lewis guns retorted on Hun working parties.
Every day brought its ration of “Minnies,” shells and bullets, and
someone got hit; Second Lieutenant Walton was killed by a sniper’s
bullet on the 16th. The sniper was promptly shot by one of ours.
On the 17th, at 11 p.m., for half an hour, we strafed the Boche with
guns, heavy and Stokes’ trench mortars and rifle grenades, to stir him
up--the usual tactics of the 55th Division; he retaliated feebly and
wounded only one man; a fighting patrol then went out, but found no Hun
about.
On the 18th, at 8 45 a.m., 18 heavy “Minnies” fell on B Company,
wounding two men; our guns retaliated--they always did for
“Minnies”--to discourage them. I think we all hated and feared the
“Minnie” more than anything, chiefly on account of the deafening,
nerve-shattering effect of the explosion; if you watched you could see
them coming over like an oil-drum describing slowly a parabola in the
air--and could dodge them and watch the fall from a safe distance, then
a pause, then CRRRAAASH! and up went sandbags, earth, wood, iron, and
sometimes men, leaving a crater of raw crumbly earth to be dealt with
as soon as might be.
In the evening we were relieved by the 1/5th King’s Liverpool Regiment,
and straggled systematically back to YPRES--billeted this time in the
Prison and Magazine.
The Officers now with the Battalion were as follows:--
Lieutenant-Colonel R. Hindle, Commanding.
Major Crump, Second in Command.
Second Lieutenant R. N. Buckmaster, Adjutant.
Second Lieutenant Burnside, Transport.
Lieutenant Bardsley, Quartermaster.
Second Lieutenant Lowe, Lewis Guns.
Second Lieutenant Mather, Bombs.
Second Lieutenant Williams, Sniping and Intelligence.
Captain A. T. Houghton }
Captain A. Walsh }
Second Lieutenant Tyldesley } A Company.
Second Lieutenant Bissett }
Second Lieutenant Cooper }
Captain F. S. Baker[G] }
Second Lieutenant Agostini } B Company.
Second Lieutenant Robinson }
Second Lieutenant H. Holden }
Captain Hore }
Lieutenant Tautz } C Company.
Second Lieutenant R. Hall }
Second Lieutenant Ashcroft }
Captain Matthew }
Lieutenant Howarth }
Second Lieutenant Holmes } D Company.
Second Lieutenant Brown }
The next five days were spent in cleaning up and bathing--a ceremony in
which a whole Company filed into an old building labelled “Divisional
Baths,” handed in their underclothing, stood in tubs under a trickle of
warm water and washed as best they might, receiving “clean” clothes in
return, and came away cleaner and fresher men. The inverted commas in
the last sentence are a tribute to the longevity and indestructibility
of the louse, or “chat,” and her eggs; no process was ever discovered
by which they could be extirpated, except “handpicking.” (Some people
may think this reference a little indelicate, but this is a truthful
record.)
The usual nightly working parties went up the line, until, on the
24th, we relieved the 1/4th King’s Own in the WIELTJE Sector. A and D
Companies were in the front line, C Company in support in “New X Line,”
and B in reserve, Battalion Headquarters being at POTIJZE CHATEAU.
The relief started badly, a “Minnie” strafe during the morning having
blown in the front line in several places, incidentally blowing
a Company Commander out of his dugout; the strafing went on all
afternoon, but luckily ceased at dusk, and the relief passed off
without incident.
This sector was a distinct improvement on RAILWAY WOOD. The Hun was
about 400 yards away, and there was consequently hardly any trench
mortar activity and no mining, but the wire was thin, the drainage bad,
and the Company Headquarters mere shanties, while most of the sentry
posts had to make shift with a groundsheet for sleeping accommodation,
the old traverses and dugouts having been knocked in and never
repaired. The reserve Company in CONGREVE WALK was more comfortable,
being well hidden in dead ground, and their trench was clean and dry--a
nice change after their tour in the worst bit of RAILWAY WOOD.
That night was quiet, and our patrols and wirers were busy in No Man’s
Land; rain fell during the night, and breakfasts were very late in the
morning.
The following description of a typical day in the front line is for the
edification of those who have never been there; how we longed to bring
some of our stay-at-home acquaintances out there and rub their noses in
Flanders mud--the real stay-at-homes, the profiteer, C.O., agitator,
striker--the folk who, in accordance with what Lewis Carroll called
“the glorious British Principle of Political Dichotomy,” were doing
their best to nullify our efforts in the fighting line!
The day begins at “Stand to,” about an hour before dawn, when
the Officer and N.C.O. on duty go round rousing every one with a
hoarsely-whispered, “Wake up, there--Stand to!” reinforced by a shake
as each man comes slowly up out of the wells of sleep and stumbles to
his feet, rubs his eyes, grabs his rifle, and mounts the fire step. The
Company Commander rouses the signaller, or vice versa, and every one
sniffs the cold night air and hopes that “Jerry” won’t come over this
morning.
Slowly the darkness thins; faces become visible, then sandbags, then
duckboards, then the screwposts supporting the wire in front; suddenly
a lark stirs, mounts up and bursts into his fervent song--the dawn has
come, and the Company Commander gives the word “Stand down,” which
is passed along and acted on promptly, so that in a minute only the
sentry on each post is left on duty. For we no longer hold the line
continuously--our numbers are too small--but with a certain number
of sentry posts, each consisting of an N.C.O. and, when possible,
six men--more often four--some posts being Lewis gun posts, others
bombing posts, others riflemen only. This line of posts, weak as it
is, is strung out between and in front of a series of “strong points”
containing machine guns and an infantry garrison lodged in deep mines,
while behind us is the support Company ready to come up in case of
need, and reserve troops further back; in addition we have the guns,
which we can always switch on in a few seconds by telephone or sending
up a rocket; all these things give us confidence, weak though we feel
ourselves to be.
About this time there appears in the trench an Officer from the reserve
Company, followed by sweating men carrying knapsack food-containers
and dixies. The word “Breakfast up” is hardly needed, as already a
man from each post is waiting with both hands full of mess tins to
draw the bacon and tea for his post--bread and dry stuff was issued by
the Company Quartermaster-Sergeant the night before. The sentries are
excluded from the ensuing munching until such time as a chum, his meal
swallowed, is available for relief; never for an instant, by day or
night, must that vigilant watch over No Man’s Land cease.
The Officers crowd into the Company Headquarters or crawl into their
own “caboosh” and eat their food in privacy, the same food as the rest
but on a plate, sometimes with porridge and eggs, privately purchased,
in addition--the Army issues the same ration to all ranks, but extras
can be bought at canteens in YPRES.
After breakfast comes cleaning and inspecting rifles, while the Company
Commander, who has already had a look round and detailed the day’s
work to the Company Sergeant-Major, completes and sends down by runner
to Battalion Headquarters his Trench State and account of ammunition
expended; then adjusting his tube helmet and box respirator and
tightening his belt carrying his revolver and glasses (it is a standing
order that everyone must wear his equipment all the time in the front
line), he sets out to inspect his lines, finding, if he knows his job,
a cheery word for all and sundry, and receiving often better than he
gives, taking stock of everything, strafing slackers, and generally
tuning up for the day, well knowing that, if he misses anything, the
Commanding Officer or, worse still, the Brigadier, will spot it and
strafe him!
Each sentry post has its standing orders pinned up on a board, with a
duty roster showing each man’s work through the 24 hours, and ensuring
that each gets eight hours in which he may try to sleep, and a sheet
for intelligence, which is collected by the Intelligence Officer every
morning when he visits the sniping posts.
“Dinners up” is the signal for a general break and a repetition of the
breakfast scene, but the food is stew or roast meat and potatoes or
rissoles. At 1 30 p.m. casualty returns and special indents have to be
at Battalion Headquarters, and at 3 30 p.m. a report on the situation
and direction of wind (this latter with reference to possible gas
activities). Having to render this report in the middle of a strafe,
some sorely-tried Officer is said to have written, “Situation----, Wind
vertical!”
Long before this we have all washed (or dabbed) our hands and faces in
shell-hole water and shaved as best we can, and an inspection of box
respirators has been carried out by the Officer on duty; feet are also
inspected and rubbed with whale oil to guard against trench-feet, then
work is resumed till tea, after which it is time to stand-to again for
another hour.
Then the night routine begins; the men who have worked all day
“get down to it,” while the wirers begin to slide over the parapet
with their rolls of barbed wire and posts; the patrol puts on
boiler-suits and cap-comforters--each man leaving behind any possible
identification, and slides off into the waste, fitfully lit by enemy
flares, in front of us.
The Officer and N.C.O. on duty start their tour of the line, candles
are lit in Company Headquarters and correspondence is dealt with, while
the Company Commander has another good look round while waiting for
the patrol to return; when they come in the leader’s report has to be
reduced to writing--often no easy matter when an unfortunate reference
to “enemy seen” raises a perfect hail of questions from higher
authority, truculently asking why they were not instantly gone for and
spitted! Picture Second Lieutenant Snooks, on patrol for the first or
second time with three men, sent out to examine enemy wire, shivering
and squirming his way across NO MAN’S LAND, all eyes and ears, suddenly
hearing guttural voices and seeing six or more figures looming big in
the haze. Of course, he ought to bluff them and bring them in--that is
what you would do, Reader, wouldn’t you?--but he doesn’t; he remembers
that he was told to examine wire, not to make trouble, so he crouches
motionless in the mud till they pass, and thinks he has done the right
thing--till he sends in his report. Then, all at once, the Brigadier,
the Colonel, the Company Commander send for him, and ask him abruptly,
and with degrees of rudeness befitting their respective ranks, what
the ---- he meant by letting those Boches escape! Needless to say, he
never repeats the mistake! And in time he learns that in the Division
and the Battalion it is a criminal offence to let slip any opportunity
of killing, capturing, or annoying Boche!
About 10 p.m. is “tea up,” and the rum issue is mixed with this or
with the breakfast tea at the discretion of the Company Commander.
The patrol and other men coming in cold and wet need theirs at once,
followed by a walk down to the Brigade drying room, where they can
sleep in blankets before a brazier while their clothes are dried.
With the patrol’s return operations usually close for the night, and
about midnight, having dealt with the last batch of chits which a
thoughtful and zealous runner has seen fit to pick off the Adjutant’s
table and deliver, asking searching questions about the “number of
sandbags laid” or “the number of screw posts, long, salved” the day
before, or the name of a man used to operating an electric light plant
or minding pigeons or mixing cocktails (“nil returns to be rendered!”
which means “If none, say so”), the Company Commander, who alone has
no allotted sleeping time, takes off his tin hat, loosens his belt,
and sleeps. At 3 a.m. the Officer on duty, who does a four-hour spell,
sends in another “situation and wind report,” and waits for the hour
when he can stir up everyone else for “stand-to,” strolling from one
post to another and keeping an eye on things in general and the Boche
in particular.
It is very quiet, probably raining a little; nothing on the move,
except rats. What brutes they were, those rats of the Salient! huge
mangy brutes the size of a cat, a few patches of fur on their otherwise
bare pink bodies; getting under your feet, running over your face as
you lay trying to sleep, eating through haversacks to get the biscuits
within, scurrying, scratching, gnawing all night long!
To resume the thread of the story:--The following extracts from a
Company Commander’s diary, given under the dates on which they were
written, help to give life to an otherwise bald narrative:--
25th. “This dugout is very poor and the roof is leaky--my canvas bucket
catches most of the drip, however.... Have just been entering up
Logbook sitting in the dugout with a candle for company--caked in mud,
sandbags over my boots--feet cold, raining outside, but quite cheerful,
as I am expecting some hot stew before long. The old skin-lined coats
are no longer issued; instead we have leather jerkins lined with
fleece, very warm and comfy.”
26th. “To-day is apparently Sunday, but out here one can’t tell it
except by the calendar; the daily hate goes on much as usual--in fact
to-day we have been hating the Boche rather extra much. Our guns have
been slowly and deliberately knocking his front line to blazes all
day, but if I know anything of him he will be about half a mile behind
down a hole of some sort--we all go to ground in these days: ‘They
shall go into the caves and dens of the rocks, they shall say unto
the mountains, “Fall on us” and to the hills “Cover us,” men’s hearts
failing them for fear and for looking for those things which are coming
on the earth’--a wonderful book, the Bible!... One of the men said
to-day, ‘The Boche isn’t here, Sir; he’s gone to the Somme and left his
missus to look after this place!’ ... How nice a change of boots will
be!”
27th. “A fighting patrol under Second Lieutenant Agostini went out but
encountered no enemy. At 7 30 p.m. we were relieved by the 1/5th South
Lancashires; they were very strong and all arrived together instead
of post by post and the narrow trench was jammed with men so that
our fellows had a struggle to get out. However, we got out without a
casualty, assembled at YPRES station, and trained to BRANDHOEK, whence
we marched to C Camp for a rest.”
28th. “‘Cleaning and inspection of kit,’” says the War Diary. We always
lay long on the morning after relief, no one worried anyone else till
noon at least. “To-day I had a bath! Oooooooh! Nothing can describe
the utter luxury of it when for several days you haven’t even had
your revolver off! A real one and lie down in it! I feel another man
already! Nothing of special interest, very busy inspecting, cleaning
up, repairing, and generally getting ready for the trenches.... It’s
still very cold and difficult to keep warm; these huts have no glass
in the windows, but horn, sacking or linen, so one always writes by
candle-light. We have a gramophone in the Mess which plays all day
and cheers us much. ‘O, Cecilia! Don’t make those eyes at me!’ is a
great favourite, especially with the Padre, who says the sentiment is
exceedingly proper!”
The following days were devoted to Company training, and on Sunday
December 3rd, 1916, there was a Church Parade. Our Diarist writes:
“We are still in rest, and it’s still freezing--coke is bad to get
in quantity--to-day we are very short; food is plentiful, there are
Y.M.C.A. huts and canteens and places about where one can buy baccy,
biscuits, fruit, etc.--the important thing is that all eatables must
be in tins, otherwise the rats get the lot.... In spite of cold, dirt,
and discomfort, it’s a good life on the whole, and one’s conscience
is at rest; we’re part of an Army--and a fine Army--and the Army is
abundantly cheerful.”
Our numbers at this time were very low, three more Officers and 37
Other Ranks having gone sick during the month.
On 6th December, we were inspected in mass by the Corps Commander, an
amusing inspection which rather showed up the lack of horsemanship of
some Company Commanders. As a result a Battalion riding school was
started, and carried on whenever we were in “rest.” The following day
we moved up to YPRES (RAMPARTS and SCHOOL), and on the 8th relieved the
1/6th King’s Liverpool Regiment in RAILWAY WOOD. The following day our
artillery was active, strafing the enemy front line; we received some
“Minnies” in exchange. During the night our field guns and machine guns
fired on enemy communications; he retaliated with shells and “Minnies.”
In the support trench (BEEK) were many home-made weather vanes,
somewhat out of adjustment, and one day, in directing a stranger to
Company Headquarters, someone said, “Keep along the trench and you’ll
see several weather-cocks.” “Yes,” broke in a humorist, “to show the
various Norths!”
On the 11th the activity on both sides was renewed, but without
serious damage. Of course trenches were blown in and there were many
narrow escapes, but only two men were wounded in the three days. It
was always a standing wonder that so much metal could fly about in
horrid, jagged bits, knocking trenches about, missing men by inches,
demolishing dugouts, and yet cause so few casualties. For example,
three men were lying in a low dugout with an iron roof; a shell struck
the front edge, burying the men and at the same time saving them from
its own explosion, which took place simultaneously! Men are sometimes
literally struck dumb at these times, as witness the following true
story:--Scene--a slight shelter; Officer inside, Private at entrance;
three shells fall in quick succession, the first and second miss the
shelter by a foot or two and make the usual noise and mess, the third
hurtles down and buries itself at the very entrance--a long pause, then
a small, unnatural voice, “That’s a dud, sir!” Another pause, another
voice of like quality, “Yes, I see it is!”
The 12th was very quiet. A drizzling rain fell all morning, mixed with
snow later. The following day we were told to prepare for relief, and
had the satisfaction of seeing, during the afternoon, our heavies
putting some really big stuff on the Hun lines; in the evening we
returned to our YPRES billets.
14th. YPRES was shelled fairly heavily and we had one casualty; our
guns were also very active. “What an awful row these big guns make when
they go off; if you’re anywhere near them the noise seems to box your
ears and make you deaf for some seconds.”
15th. “Our guns were making a fair old row last night and this morning,
celebrating the Kaiser’s peace proposals, I suppose--what a difference
from the old RICHEBURG days! To-night, about 4 30, the Hun suddenly
started shelling this place to some tune and kept it up for half an
hour; quite a lot burst near our dugout and there was a good bit of
stuff flying about, but no one was hit.” During these days the usual
nightly working parties filed through the MENIN GATE and went up the
line to shovel slime for a few hours.
On 17th December, 1916, we moved to PRISON billets and into the line
again--WIELTJE--on the 18th.
On the 19th a dozen “Minnies” fell on our front line--again no one
was hurt; on 20th December, 1916, the Hun shelled us all day; no
casualties, bitter wind and snow, aeroplanes active, a Hun machine
being brought down over their lines at 1 15.
21st December, 1916. Great artillery activity. Our front line trenches
were cleared with the exception of a few Lewis guns from 8 a.m. to 4
p.m. Our heavies bombarded the enemy trenches from 8 a.m. to 10 a.m.
The field guns cut wire opposite our front line from 10 a.m. to 1 p.m.,
after which the heavies resumed operations. In the evening a patrol
located an enemy sentry post in the Long Sap. On the 22nd the artillery
programme was repeated; the enemy retaliated and caused one casuality.
On the 23rd the 1/4th King’s Own raided over our heads, entering the
enemy trenches and finding them deserted; the enemy retaliated heavily,
causing three casualties, one man (Duerden) being killed in the front
line by a bit of shell. As the front line was simply plastered with
shells, we were lucky not to have more.
“There was a pretty heavy strafe this morning early,” writes the
Diarist; “it went on for about an hour and left one kind of dazed and
sleepy.”
Christmas Eve was very quiet; the great question was, “Were we to stay
in the line over Christmas or not?” Our joy on hearing that we were to
go out was tempered by pity for the King’s Own, who relieved us.
Christmas Day. “Out of trenches! Came out last night and forthwith
had a shave and partial wash. We sent an Officer on, and when we
landed here (YPRES) the men found candles lit and fires going in their
billets, and we had ditto in ours. To-day we gave the men a decent
Christmas dinner, and are now about to have one ourselves--a roaring
fire, plenty of candles, turkey stuffed with _the_ stuffing, beer, vin
ordinaire, pudding, and sundries have the promise of a very pleasant
evening in them, if the Boche will refrain from throwing stuff over--he
peppered this place some to-day! To-morrow, work--pulling things
together--refitting, cleaning, reorganising; to-night, Christmas Day,
home thoughts, comfort and God bless everyone, especially those at
home, who are always with us in thought--what we owe to their prayers
no man knows.”
Second Lieutenant Tyldesley was largely responsible for the success
of the dinner referred to. The Battalion dined in the MAGAZINE, two
Companies at a time, on hastily-made tables and waited on by the
Officers; there was pork and goose mixed (Tyldesley’s tunic bore the
marks of goose-grease for long after), and trimmings, plum pudding
and dessert and fruit and beaucoup beer, and we drank “The King” and
everyone enjoyed themselves.
26th. “Everyone in splendid form after a day’s rest and a good feed, a
sort of cheery, alert look on everyone’s face that I haven’t seen for a
long time.” 220 men were on working parties that day, and on the 27th
we were relieved by the 1/5th South Lancashires and went back to C
Camp, this time by train--‘the Midnight Choo-choo’ as some wit dubbed
it. The silent assembly of troops at YPRES Station, the entraining,
and the gradual withdrawal of the train from that stricken area into
cultivated country, are some of the things we shall never cease to
recall with complete vividness. The following days were devoted to the
usual cleaning and inspections, etc.
[Illustration:
CHRISTMAS 1916.
BEST WISHES _from_
“We’re here because we’re here”. _SHAKESPEARE._
Battalion Christmas Card, 1916.
_Drawn by 2nd-Lieutenant Ashton._]
“To-day I have had all my men inspected for deficiencies and paid them;
I find an excellent plan is to require a man to produce a chit from his
Platoon Commander stating that he has been fully inspected before he is
paid; by adopting this plan I get all sorts of people up for inspection
who would otherwise probably have been missed. To-morrow I get my
Company on parade for a whole morning--a most unusual occurrence and
one to be made the most of.”
The 31st December found us still at C Camp--clean, fresh, and ready for
another year of war, though fervently hoping for peace.
Our total casualties for the year were as follows:--
Officers. Other Ranks.
Killed 9 69
Wounded 23 434
Missing 1 190
Do. believed killed 2 0
Drowned 0 1
Sick to F.A. 16 204
-- ---
Totals 51 898
The New Year started with a Brigade holiday, and in the Church Army
hut the men were given a dinner followed by a cinema performance; the
Sergeants and Officers also had dinners in their respective messes. “A
dinner of stew, mixed pork, and goose, and plum pudding, and beer in a
mess tin, means more to the men to-day than all the elaborate spread we
had at SEVENOAKS, which cost £150.”
During this period reinforcements of Officers and men kept turning up,
and were rapidly assimilated; on the other hand, almost every day some
Officer or man went sick, the weather on the whole being mild and damp.
On 3rd January, 1917, we were inspected by the Brigade Commander, and
were complimented on the turnout, also on the camp; in fact at this
time Brigade were rather fond of us and let us alone quite a lot.
On the 5th the Lewis gun detachments with their handcarts were
inspected by the Divisional Commander; he caused great mirth by
wheeling a handcart violently at a ditch, to demonstrate how easily the
shafts broke! At this time the Lewis gun was in a transition stage and
the favourite toy of the staff; it was finding its feet as a Company
weapon, and masses of orders about it were coming in every day, to the
joy(?) of all concerned.
On the 6th we returned to YPRES, and on the 7th relieved the 1/6th
King’s Liverpool Regiment in RAILWAY WOOD, where we were badly shelled
the following day, six men being wounded. This relief was accomplished
without a casualty, although Platoons had some narrow escapes. We were
singularly lucky that way; we were always hearing that such and such a
Battalion had had a Platoon blown to bits in the Square, but it never
happened to us; if an Officer lost men by taking a known dangerous
road when a safer was available, it was not counted unto him for
righteousness!
On the 8th the enemy shelled us all day, especially BEEK TRENCH
and BATTALION HEADQUARTERS, and six men were wounded; the 9th was
quieter--one man wounded.
On the 10th, after a quiet morning, our artillery bombarded enemy lines
opposite B Company, who had their Company Headquarters blown in in the
retaliation which followed--no casualty.
After a quiet day on the 11th, the Battalion was relieved on the 12th,
except A Company, by the 1/4th KING’S OWN, A Company being left behind
to do a special job--wiring in close support and support lines--the
rest going back to YPRES, whence they provided the usual nightly
working parties till the 16th, when they were relieved by the 12th
ROYAL SUSSEX REGIMENT and marched to P Camp north of POPERINGHE. The
next day we marched to ROUSSEL FARM, about a mile east of ELVERDINGHE,
the Drums, recently re-formed, playing on the march for the first time.
A Company turned up, dead beat, at 5 a.m. Second Lieutenant Faber
went sick from sheer overwork; as Lewis gun Officer he had tried to
do everything himself and broke down. We were sorry to lose such an
excellent Officer.
During the next few days, except when snowed off, a party of nine
Officers and 300 Other Ranks, under Captain Houghton, was employed
daily in making the formation for doubling a railway track, supervised
by an R.E. Officer. As our party included a Civil Engineer, a Railway
Engineer, and a Municipal Engineer, there was enough technical skill
to have laid the whole railway! During this period another party, D
Company under Captain Matthew, were repairing dugouts in CANAL BANK,
YPRES, and after the first day were billeted there to save marching.
On the 22nd Captain Harris returned to the Battalion and took over the
Bombing Company, an experimental organisation which did valuable work
during its short existence. We were glad to leave this place with its
thin huts (the weather was bitter) and march to D Camp on the 23rd,
where, on the 24th, we were inspected by the Army Commander, General
Sir Herbert Plumer.
On the 1st February our shooting team were winners in the
inter-Battalion competition and were chosen to represent the Brigade.
On the 3rd we were relieved in D Camp by the 1/5th NORTH LANCASHIRE
REGIMENT, marched to POPERINGHE, and trained to BOLLEZEELE.
The train was a sort of miniature affair, and the railway ran, mostly
by the roadside, at about three miles an hour. What a treat it was to
get out of the sound of the guns for a bit, and to be in a pleasant
little Flemish town, outwardly untouched by war! It consisted of a
cheerful-looking market square lined with small shops, with a Church
in the middle--quite a treat to see a Church untouched by shells--with
a sort of openwork spire, to let out the sound of the carillons which
played every hour and half-hour; how sweetly and peacefully it floated
out over the open country on a still, frosty night! There was also
a good inn, the “Lion d’Or,” known as the “Brass Cat!” The men were
mostly billeted in enormous barns; the Officers in houses round the
square. Here, it was rumoured, we were to have a month’s rest, but no
one believed it; we actually _got_ 16 days.
On the 4th, being Sunday, of course orders for an immediate move were
received at 11 30 a.m., and the Battalion packed up and concentrated
at 2 15 p.m. and marched to ESQUELBECQ, a distance of five miles;
this march will long be remembered by the Lewis gunners, who had to
carry their guns there and back again--for this turned out to be a
“camouflage” march; much hostile aerial activity had recently been
displayed in the back areas, so large columns of troops were made to
march eastwards during the day and back at dusk.
It was bitterly cold, snow on the ground and freezing hard--this
weather continued all the time we were there. The time was devoted to
training--Company, Battalion, and Brigade schemes, and in the intervals
we smartened up and overhauled our interior economy.
On the 16th we moved back to C Camp, where we relieved the 14th
Hampshires.
On 17th February, 1917, we sent an Officer and 20 men to attend
an investiture of French soldiers by the Army Commander, as
representatives of the 55th Division--rather a compliment.
On the 18th the Brigadier presented Military Medal ribbons to Company
Sergeant-Major Heywood, Corporal Bamber, and 1147 Private Ainscough,
T. On the 24th we moved into billets in CANAL BANK, YPRES. These
were large elephant dugouts on the bank of the canal north of YPRES,
comfortable and fairly safe, but we were only there for a night,
relieving the 1/5th South Lancashires in the LA BRIQUE sector the next
night. This was a rotten sector, badly neglected by previous Divisions;
even the main communication trench was about two feet deep in water
when we first saw it, and BILGE TRENCH well deserved its unsavoury
name. It is only fair to say that when we left it it was fairly
comfortable. On the 26th the line was rearranged, and we returned to
CANAL BANK, whence we sent up the usual nightly working parties.
On the 4th March YPRES was heavily shelled during the day, but we
relieved the 1/4th King’s Own in the line in the evening without
casualties; at 7 5 p.m. the enemy sprung a mine on our right Brigade
front and our artillery opened a heavy bombardment; one man was wounded
in YPRES.
The 5th was a quiet day; at night a patrol went to examine CANADIAN
DUGOUTS in the middle of NO MAN’S LAND and found them occupied.
On the 8th we were relieved by the 1/4th KING’S OWN and went back to
CANAL BANK, where some artist did the Regimental Crest in bits of tile
in front of a dugout. One wonders if it is still there!
On the 13th we sent a strong fighting patrol up the line to raid two of
the CANADIAN DUGOUTS. The party consisted of one Officer, one N.C.O.,
and 12 men, who constituted the dugout party, and two complete Lewis
gun teams.
Presumably the Hun got wind of the enterprise--he always did--for Nos.
1, 2, and 3 dugouts were empty and the wire round them destroyed. That
evening we relieved the King’s Own again. On the 15th YPRES was shelled
throughout the day, and again the following day; a patrol of ours had a
scrap with a Hun patrol in NO MAN’S LAND, but suffered no casualties.
The 17th was a quiet day; the Battalion was relieved by the 1/5th
KING’S OWN and went back to C Camp, where we remained till the
28th. During this period important reorganisation was carried out,
the bombing sections rejoining their Companies, thus “washing out”
the Bombing Company, the Lewis guns being placed finally under
Company Commanders; Companies reorganised their Platoons into four
sections--one of bombers, one of riflemen, one of Lewis gunners, and
one of rifle grenadiers. As a matter of fact we had ourselves suggested
and partially adopted this about a month before, but it was now
officially sanctioned. Second Lieutenant H. Lonsdale joined us during
this period.
On the 28th we moved back to CANAL BANK, YPRES; on that day we made 272
barbed wire concertinas and carried 100 up the line. We remained here a
few days, supplying nightly working parties--chiefly carrying wire up
to the front line; two men were wounded on the 1st April.
During February and March we lost 98 men through sickness alone--our
monthly average being between 40 and 60 during the following months
also.
On the 2nd April we relieved the 1/4th KING’S OWN in the LA BRIQUE
sector without casualties; Second Lieutenant Fullerton joined us. The
next day was quiet, with slight shelling on the front line, but on
the following night a patrol of ours ran into a strong enemy party,
who tried to cut them off, but a Lewis gun team being sent for, they
thought better of it and retired, covered by two machine guns; we had
three killed and one wounded that day.
On the 6th we had a man wounded, and again on the 7th; on the latter
day the 165th Brigade on our right carried out a hurricane bombardment
on the enemy’s front line with Stokes’ mortars. The enemy sent up red
flares, which, being our S.O.S. signal, brought our artillery into
action, and 600 shells were fired on the enemy front line opposite us.
Our relief that night by the 1/4th KING’S OWN was carried out, with one
casualty, in bright moonlight, and we went back to CANAL BANK.
The 8th, Easter Sunday, was a lovely day, and very quiet. The Padre
held four Communion services in one of the dugouts, and a large number
of us went.
The next few days we spent in doing a certain amount of training on
the Canal Bank, with nightly working parties; on the 12th Second
Lieutenant R. A. Hall was accidentally wounded in the arm during
bombing practice; the same evening we relieved the 1/4th KING’S OWN in
LA BRIQUE sub-sector.
On the 13th, during some slight shelling, a Lewis gun post on our right
Company front had the misfortune to get hit, one man being killed and
three others wounded, and on the following day, though “quiet,” two
more men were wounded. On the 17th we sent out a large fighting patrol,
with Bangalore torpedoes, to capture an enemy sentry post in a sap
head, but, as usual, “when they got there the cupboard was bare,” and
they came away empty.
On the 17th we were relieved by the 12th ROYAL SUSSEX (39th
Division)--the relief was not complete till 1 30 a.m.--and we entrained
at YPRES at 2 30 a.m. and arrived at POPERINGHE station at 3 25 a.m.
and marched to Z Camp, where we snatched a few hours’ sleep. At 2 30
p.m. we marched via WATOU to HOUTKERQUE, where Companies were billeted
in scattered farms; here our Medical Officer, Captain A. W. Uloth,
R.A.M.C., went sick, and Captain R. W. Shegog, R.A.M.C., came in his
place. Here we remained for three days, cleaning up and training, till
on the 22nd the whole Brigade concentrated at 9 a.m. one mile south
of HERZEELE and marched, with first line transport, to billets in
ARNEKE, where we arrived at 1 45 p.m., leaving again early next morning
to concentrate at 9 a.m. four and a half miles west of ARNEKE, and
march via WATTEN (locally known as “WAT”) to HOULLE, where we arrived
at 2 p.m. These marches, though a stiff trial to men fresh from the
trenches, with slack muscles and tender feet, were interesting; we were
seeing new country: HOUTKERQUE and HERZEELE were nice little towns,
though the latter had more troops than it could properly hold; ARNEKE
was still better--the people, who seemed delighted to see us, had a
curiously English look, probably due to the fact that Marlborough’s
troops were once billeted all round this part; just as the Scotch blood
in Lancashire is traced to the presence of the Pretender’s following.
HOULLE is in the midst of the hilly country near ST. OMER--strongly
reminding one of parts of Kent--an ideal country to train in. Here were
large ranges, like the Aldershot Ranges, for musketry, and every day
we marched out of billets and up on to the hills for training of some
kind, taking our cookers with us and having dinners up there, every
day getting fitter and improving in morale--shaking off the trench
staleness and thinking more of open fighting--getting more of the
“offensive spirit.” Second Lieutenant Hall rejoined us on the 26th. The
Diarist writes at this time: “Still in the same place”--that in itself,
you see, is sufficiently remarkable to be chronicled. “There are real
hedgerows here, just bursting into leaf, and the fritillaries are out
all along the lanes, in fact I am in the middle of real Spring. A lilac
in front of my window shows half out, covered with bloom, and the
currants are quite green. All this makes one long more than ever for
England. The people round here are much better farmers and gardeners
than we are--nothing is wasted, and everything done thoroughly and
carefully. As I look out of the window a thrush is singing and the view
is an English view. Oh, to be in England now that April’s here!”
30th. “The cuckoo is at it and the nightingale, in fact it is Spring,
cloudless day, glorious sun, everything as it should be, only one thing
wrong, I’m not where I ought to be, in England--Spring in a foreign
land is a painful pleasure to an Englishman.” The point of these
extracts is that they express what each of us felt at that time--and
many other times--an intense longing, carefully smothered, for Home and
Peace; few individuals, if any, went abroad, or stayed there, because
they _liked_ it.
Until the 6th we remained at HOULLE training; it would serve no useful
purpose and would bore the general reader to set down the programme
of training carried out; enough to say that it was a fresh and merry
column that marched back to ARNEKE on the 6th of May, leaving again by
train at 11 45 a.m. for POPERINGHE. Here we were met by the Divisional
Band, which played us to L Camp, where we spent the night, returning to
POPERINGHE the next morning and up by train to the PRISON billets at
YPRES.
During the next five days bathing was carried out, and the usual
nightly working parties went up the line. YPRES was distinctly livelier
than before, but only one man was wounded during the period.
On the 14th we relieved the 1/4th KING’S OWN in the right sub-sector,
POTIJZE. The sectors had been rearranged. D Company had two Platoons in
the front line and two in close support; A Company was in reserve and
held MILL COTTS, GARDEN OF EDEN, PROWSE TRENCH, and ST. JAMES’ TRENCH.
B and C Companies, in Brigade Reserve, were billeted in houses on the
POTIJZE ROAD.
On the 18th the enemy was very active with his artillery, the front
line Company, D, calling for retaliation five times during the morning;
we had one man killed and one wounded. A fighting patrol had gone out
the previous night to try to capture an enemy party, and were supported
by an artillery barrage--as usual, the enemy had withdrawn.
At 9 15 that evening the enemy placed a shrapnel, trench mortar, and
howitzer barrage on our front line first, then on our support line, and
an S.O.S. being sent up by the Battalion on our left was repeated by
us; as soon as the barrage started our front Company stood to and fired
rapid over the parapet. No one in the front line saw the enemy leave
his trenches, but two snipers, who had been out in NO MAN’S LAND all
day and were waiting for it to get dark to come in, saw the enemy place
a machine gun on his parapet, the team of which they proceeded to knock
out; they also saw Huns entering the trenches of the Battalion on our
left. Our trenches were badly damaged in places, one man was killed,
one missing, and Second Lieutenant Francis and four men wounded; B
Company relieved D that evening.
“It is curious to notice the different effects intermittent and
concentrated shelling have on one--intermittent shelling takes people
different ways--on the whole it makes you angry; concentrated shelling,
such as a barrage, you rise above altogether by some curious effort of
will. I think it is that in the first case one hears each one coming
hissing along in a descending scale, and speculates where it will fall,
while in the second there is simply a terrific medley of bangs and
crashes which you can only accept as a perfect inferno of noise, and
leave it at that.”
[Illustration: Aeroplane Photo of Opposing Trench Lines, YPRES.]
The following night we hit back; Major Crump, who was in command in the
absence of Lieutenant-Colonel Hindle, who was commanding the Brigade,
organised a raid, carried out under an artillery barrage by Second
Lieutenant Tautz, three N.C.O.’s, and 20 men, who entered the enemy’s
lines and bombed dugouts. The party had great difficulty in getting
through the wire, and our casualties were two men wounded of the party
and one in the trench; three of the raiders were at first reported
missing, but Private Metcalfe turned up at dawn, having got entangled
in the wire and badly wounded, and in the evening another, Private
Cooper, came in, having spent the day in a shell hole.
That day, the 20th, leave reopened, having been closed since January,
and everyone began to calculate their chances.
About this time we were encouraged to use our Lewis guns against
hostile aircraft, and special mountings and fittings were issued to
us for that purpose--it was impossible for people behind to deal with
machines flying low over our front line. This aeroplane shooting was
rather good sport, and though very few were actually brought down by
Lewis gun fire, they soon learned to keep out of range. At this time
the aeroplane activity in the SALIENT was great on both sides--on a
fine day machines swarmed like midges in the sky.
On the night of the 20th we were relieved by the 1/4th KING’S OWN,
and on relief we marched to A Camp, just behind VLAMERTINGHE, leaving
Captain Harris and 200 men of B and D Companies in YPRES as a working
party. They had rather a lively time, as YPRES was being heavily
shelled daily--a shell actually entered a cellar where several men were
sleeping, ricochetted and buried itself in one of the walls without
exploding or touching anyone. During the next few days five men were
wounded.
On the night of the 26th we relieved the 1/4th KING’S OWN in the
POTIJZE sector, C and A Companies in front, B in support, and D in
reserve, and began at once a series of works designed to mislead the
enemy and make him think an attack was intended on our front. How much
he was deceived appeared from the amount of attention we received from
this time onward until the battle of MESSINES.
The opposing sides gained much of their knowledge of the other’s
intentions from aeroplane photographs, which show up with great
clearness any newly-dug earth. It was our task then to open up all the
disused trenches on our sector, placing along the top a row of new
sandbags, and to dig saps out into NO MAN’S LAND, at the same time
annoying the Hun by every means in our power. Two were killed and three
wounded during the next four days, during which we kept throwing things
at the Hun--trench mortars, grenades, bullets, etc.--and we really did
stir him up. Then came the news that we were not to be relieved, so
Companies changed over.
On 1st June the gas strafe started; our people started it with a
discharge of 500 gas drums on enemy reserves. We heard afterwards that
so sudden and concentrated was the attack that a whole Company were
poisoned where they stood. The enemy retaliated on us, killing one man
and wounding three, using everything he had; then he began to bring up
gas shells and use them, chiefly at night on lines of communication.
The sighing of gas shells going over never ceased during three
successive nights before the show, yet the damage done was very slight.
But the Companies in the trenches kept getting odd ones, and the
veering breeze kept clouds of various gases drifting about for quite a
long time, and we had a few anxious vigils. The Hun was very angry and
horribly afraid and therefore shelled everything he could think of, and
we appeared to occupy some of his thoughts, for we certainly got our
full share and he took his toll of us.
On the 2nd we sent over more gas drums, and again the Hun retaliated,
doing a lot of damage to trenches and killing two men and wounding five
others.
On the 3rd we treated him to a combined smoke, artillery, and machine
gun barrage, and he replied, but more feebly, killing one man and
wounding two; but during the night, from 10 p.m. to 4 a.m., he drenched
YPRES with gas shells, our transport suffering slightly. He also, on
the following day, put 67 “Minnies” on to B Company, killing one man
and wounding Second Lieutenants Hall and Johnson and 11 others. We
were glad to learn that Lieutenant-Colonel Hindle had been awarded the
D.S.O. in the Birthday Honours List.
That night a minor enterprise by the 1/5th NORTH LANCASHIRE REGIMENT
on our right caused some shelling on our right front Company, and a
party digging saps in front escaped by a miracle; he also sent a few
Granatenwerfer over into the middle of another party engaged in sap
digging, causing several casualties, the total being 14 wounded for
the two days. On the 14th both sides were active. We were preparing
an elaborate programme of smoke and other bombs, to be discharged at
the same hour as the MESSINES battle was timed to start, also putting
scaling ladders against the parapet--this work was under Captain
Harris. The Hun shelled YPRES pretty heavily in the evening, and set
two large dumps on fire.
At 3 10 a.m. on the 7th the Messines battle started with a literal
earthquake--19 mines being blown up at once, the barrage starting at
the same time on our front among others. The enemy shelled us for about
half an hour, by which time he found out that we were bluffing him and
stopped. Our casualties were five killed, Second Lieutenant Agostini
and 10 others wounded.
On the 8th the enemy shelled the roads with 5.9’s and gas shells in the
early morning, our guns doing wire cutting with the 106 fuse, a very
sensitive fuse which bursts on graze without burying itself; a good
many “shorts” fell on our trenches due to defective ammunition, which
was just as dangerous to the gunners as to us, as muzzle-bursts were
not infrequent. A gunner Officer going round the line was at a loss for
words when he saw a shell case, which had fallen short, stuck up over
a dugout with the inscription, “A present from the R.F.A.!” Sergeant
Thompson was killed by a nosecap from one of these “shorts,” and
during the day four men were wounded.
[Illustration: Oblique Aeroplane Photograph Showing Trench Lines at
YPRES. Taken April 23rd, 1917.]
In the afternoon A and C Companies relieved B and D in the front line.
At 11 9 p.m. the 39th Division on our left sent over gas from
Projectors; we caught some of the retaliation on POTIJZE ROAD--5.9’s
and gas shells.
On the 9th we had a fairly quiet morning, but the artillery livened up
in the afternoon; the 1/4th KING’S OWN carried out a successful raid
on our front, bagging six unwounded prisoners, who seemed glad to be
taken. The enemy was taken by surprise in mid-relief. We had six men
wounded during the day.
Things remained lively during the next two days, five men being
wounded, but on the 11th the blessed word “Relief” was whispered.
Imagine the joy of men who had never had their clothes off for nearly
three weeks--more, in some cases. The relieving Battalion, the 1/9th
King’s Liverpool Regiment, did not arrive till after 3 a.m., so relief
had to be carried out in daylight in very small parties, but it went
off without a casualty, and we marched to a canvas camp behind YPRES,
where we rested till noon on the 12th, when we marched by Companies to
POPERINGHE, leaving by train at 2 45 p.m. and reaching ESQUELBECQ at 4
45 p.m.; here we were joined by part of the transport, and after dinner
had been eaten we marched on to BOLLEZEELE, where we occupied our old
billets.
The next three days were spent in cleaning up, bathing, and a little
training.
On the 16th the Brigade marched via Watten to BOISDINGHEM; it was a
broiling day and the sky was like brass, and as the march started
at 9 a.m., when the sun was high up, and was mostly uphill, a large
number of men were affected with sunstroke and fell out, but the
9th Wing R.F.C. were very good to us and lent us lurries to bring
in the stragglers. Here we found the accommodation poor and totally
inadequate, but we crowded in somehow, many preferring to bivouac in
the open fields rather than occupy the buildings allotted to them:
the village lay on the top of the downs not many miles from our old
area HOULLE, almost out of the sound of the guns. About this time the
Diarist, reviewing recent events, writes:--
“To be within two or three yards of a big shell when it bursts sounds
like sudden death, but it isn’t--necessarily; it happens daily to lots
of people who survive; I have been several times as close as that,
closer in one case; the shock and noise absolutely deafen one for some
minutes afterwards, but it seems to pass off; but there must be a good
solid bulwark of earth between you and the shell! if there isn’t,
well--shell-shock is the best you can hope for!”
On Sunday, the 17th, we had a Church of England parade out of doors,
the cornet player of the Drums leading the hymns. Second Lieutenants
Easterby and Rigby joined us. The following day we were inspected in
mass by the Brigadier, who gave us a good rating about Saturday’s
march. We thought this a little unkind, as it might have occurred to
the Staff to make a start early in the morning and get it over in the
cool of the day, instead of expecting men who were weak from a long
spell of trenches to march 15 miles heavily laden in the middle of a
hot June day; however, we had no doubt that those responsible would be
duly ticked off, so we swallowed the rating with outward calm; after
all, the men who fell out had in some cases done so without asking
leave, being long past caring what happened, and this was a breach of
march discipline.
The remaining days of the month were spent in training; we received a
large number of reinforcements, including Second Lieutenant Brooke.
Captain Houghton, who had picked up trench fever during the last tour,
was sent to Field Ambulance, Captain Harris taking over A Company.
On the 2nd July we marched to LUMBRES, thence we went by rail to
BRANDHOEK, and marched from there to DERBY CAMP. At dusk D Company
moved forward to a post called L 4 on the YPRES Road, A and C Companies
to a strong point called P 1, and two Officers and 50 Other Ranks to
YPRES for water duties. Second Lieutenant H. Whitehurst joined us as
a reinforcement. Two men were wounded on the 3rd and one on the 5th,
on which day Captain Ord rejoined us from the Divisional School, Major
Crump leaving the following day for a three months’ course at the
Senior Officers’ School, Aldershot.
On the 9th we relieved the 1/4th KING’S OWN in the line; there was
considerable enemy activity during the night, and we had one killed and
one wounded.
On the 10th, although considered “quiet,” we had three men wounded,
while on the 12th, though he put two of our Lewis guns out of action
with Minenwerfers and shelled our trenches intensely, we had no
casualty. At 11 p.m. he began to shell Battalion Headquarters steadily
and went on till 8 30 a.m.; a wiring party from our left front Company
had three men wounded by “Minnies,” and had to come in.
One man was killed and eight wounded during the day, one of the wiring
party being missing. On the 13th two men were wounded during desultory
shelling of our lines, and five on the next day, which started quiet,
but things on both sides woke up at dusk, our guns bombarding enemy
batteries, the Hun sending gas shells on to us, and barraging the front
line, stopping all work, wounding three men and gassing two others
that day. In the early morning 20 yards of the front line parapet was
knocked in, one man killed and five wounded. Things were getting very
hot indeed, and our strength was daily being whittled down, but relief
was not yet.
The casualties at this time would have been far heavier than they
actually were but for the fact that the N.C.O.’s in the front line had
learnt that NO MAN’S LAND was the safest place in a bombardment and
used to take their posts out in front of our wire as soon as the Hun
opened out.
[Illustration: Oblique Aeroplane Photograph Showing Objectives in the
3rd Battle of YPRES.]