the Aisne, and on our right was a big plateau with huge haystacks
dotted about the corn-fields, which served as excellent observing
stations for our artillery, of which by this time we had a vast mass.
The other (north) bank of the Aisne was clearly visible from here--in
fact from the top of the biggest haystack there was a regular panorama
to be seen, from the twin towers of Soissons Cathedral on the left to
the enemy's trenches above Vailly and beyond--a beautiful landscape
typical of La Belle France, even to the rows of poplars in the
distance, marking the Routes Nationales from Soissons to other places
of distinction.
Our business was to hold the line of the river by digging a line of
trenches from Sermoise to near Venizel, and to cover them with a line
of outposts day and night. This took about four companies, and the
rest were engaged in digging another series of trenches on the
plateau as a supporting line to the first, flanking the Jury Valley on
one side and the ruins of Sermoise and Ciry on the other. This was
really the first serious digging of trenches we had had during the
campaign, and I remember, in the light of after experiences, how
futile they must have been at the time, for they were nothing like as
deep as we subsequently found to be necessary, nor had they any wire
entanglements or obstacles worth mentioning. However, I expect that
the French improved them greatly during the subsequent winter.
Sermoise had been desperately shelled; there were no inhabitants left,
and practically every house was a heap of ruins; but though our
outposts in front of it could not have been seen through the woods,
the Germans continued to shell it most viciously.
On the right of Sermoise was the 13th Brigade, extended towards the
3rd Division, which had crossed the river at Vailly and was holding
the slopes above it. I believe the 13th had a poor time of it, for
they were scattered over open ground and in small woods which were
perpetually being shelled, and they had, besides, to find a battalion
or so to help the 14th Brigade in Missy.
On our left we joined hands with the 4th Division, most of whom were
on the other bank, running from St Marguerite westwards; on their left
were, I believe, the French, in and round Soissons.
It was a nice time for the Artillery; for guns were there in large
numbers, and they had some good targets to shoot at, over Vregny and
Chivres way, in the shape of the enemy's batteries and lines, when
they could be seen.
The weather was mostly fine during that week, but there were two
horridly cold days on which the rain came down in torrents, and did
not help us in our entrenching tasks.
At last came the day which I had been expecting for some time; and I
was ordered to send the Dorsets across, to begin relieving the 14th
Brigade near Missy.
_Sept. 24th._
They left on the 23rd, and on the 24th the Bedfords went over,
preceded by the Brigade Staff at 2.30 P.M. The Norfolks had been sent
off three days before to strengthen the 3rd Division, so I had only
three battalions, and of these the Cheshires were very weak. However,
the K.O.Y.L.I., and West Kents (of the 13th Brigade), already holding
the eastern edge of Missy, were put under my orders, besides the 15th
Brigade R.F.A. under Charles Ballard (a cousin of Colin's[9]), and a
Howitzer Battery (61st) of Duffus's 8th Brigade.
[Footnote 9: Commanding the Norfolk's.]
Weatherby and I walked across to Rolt's farm, across a series of big
fields, with only an occasional bullet or shell pitching in the
distance. Lord, what a poor place it was; Rolt and his staff had lived
there for the last week, all lying together on straw in one or two
rooms: it must have been most uncomfortable. The windows towards the
north-east had been plugged up with sandbags, so that the rooms were
very dark, and the floors were deep in caked mud and dirt of all
sorts. The only attraction in the main room was a big open fireplace
with a huge sort of witches' cauldron standing over the hot ashes, and
this was most useful in providing us with hot baths later on.
_Sept. 25th._
Rolt explained his position and the places which the different
battalions were occupying; but beyond an occasional bombardment of
Missy and losses from German snipers in trees and elsewhere, he had
not suffered overmuch. However, he and his Brigade were not sorry to
leave, and leave they did at 4 A.M. next morning. The awkward part of
it was that one could never go out in the daytime, as the road in
front of the farm leading towards Missy was under perpetual rifle-fire
directly any one showed up, and several holes had been made in the
farmyard gate, windows, and walls, not to mention bits of the roof
taken off by shrapnel. Why they did not shell the farm more I cannot
conceive. Perhaps the enemy thought it was deserted, but whilst we
were there no shells fell within a couple of hundred yards of it,
though some were pitched well over it, and exploded 500 yards to the
rear.
I had gone to see the Dorsets and 13th Brigade in Missy on the evening
before, and found them fairly well ensconced. The Dorsets were in
Missy itself, with their headquarters in a really nice house with
carpets and big shaded lamps, and a cellar full of excellent wine,
and a nice garden all complete, and charming bedrooms--infinitely
superior to our pig-sty of a farm. I seriously thought of turning them
out and taking the house for the Brigade Staff, especially as our farm
was not at all central but quite on the left of our line; but all our
cable-lines converged on to the farm, and, in addition, the Dorset
house would have been impossible to get out of for further control if
Missy were shelled; so I settled to remain at the farm. The 13th
Brigade--_i.e._, K.O.Y.L.I., and West Kents, were further on, the
K.O.Y.L.I., on the eastern outskirts, and the West Kents in trenches
beyond them. The K.O.S.B.'s were still further south-eastwards, and
reached back to the river, but there were only one or two weak
companies of them.
Before dawn, and just after Rolt had left, I went to inspect the
Bedfords' position, which was close to Rolt's farm, in the wood in
front of it, and a beastly position it was. The wood was very damp,
and when one tried to dig trenches one struck water only a foot below
ground, so most of the line had to be made of breastworks. There were
German trenches within 20 yards of our advanced trench there, and ours
was remarkably badly situated and liable to be rushed at a moment's
notice; yet it was impossible from the lie of the ground to dig
suitable ones unless we retired altogether for 200 yards, which of
course was out of the question. So we chanced it and stuck it out, and
luckily were never attacked there. The men suffered there from damp
and cold, I'm afraid, for every morning a wet and freezing fog arose
in the wood, although the weather was clear elsewhere; but it could
not be helped.
We stayed in Rolt's farm and in the positions described for just a
week. On one day, the 27th, we had a false alarm, for the enemy was
reported as crossing the Condé bridge at 4 A.M. in large numbers, and
everybody was at once on the _qui vive_, the Cheshires, who were in
bivouac behind Rolt's farm, being sent back (by Sir C. Fergusson's
orders) to Rupreux, the other side of the river. We rather doubted the
news from the start, as the Condé bridge had, we knew, been blown up,
and there was only one girder left, by which a few men at a time
could conceivably have crossed; but the information was so
circumstantial that it sounded possible. Eventually it turned out all
to be owing to the heated imagination of a Hibernian patrol officer of
the West Kents, and we turned in again.
Missy was shelled particularly heavily that day from 10 to 6, and it
was painful to watch great bouquets of 8-in. H.E. shells exploding in
the village, and whole houses coming down with a crash; it seemed as
though there must be frightfully heavy casualties, and I trembled in
anticipation of the casualty return that night.
But the Dorsets and K.O.Y.L.I. had dug themselves in so thoroughly in
deep funk-holes and cellars that they did not have a single casualty;
and literally the only men wounded were three K.O.S.B.'s and six West
Kents outside the village in a trench, who were hit by about the last
shell of the day; whilst a Bedford sniper, an excellent shot, one
Sergeant Hunt, unfortunately got a bullet through two fingers of his
right hand.
During that week it was moderately quiet, with nothing like so many
casualties as we had expected. Our supply waggons rolled up after dark
right into Missy village and never lost a man, whilst the village was
so thoroughly barricaded and strengthened and scientifically
defended--mostly Dorset work--that we could have held out against any
number. The sappers too, 17th Co. R.E., worked like Trojans under
young Pottinger, a most plucky and capable youth wearing the weirdest
of clothes--a short and filthy mackintosh, ragged coat and breeches,
and a huge revolver.[10]
[Footnote 10: I grieve very much to see that he was fatally
wounded outside Ypres (15th May 1916).]
We put Rolt's farm and the mill (between that and Missy) and La Bizaie
farm in a thorough state of defence, and dug hundreds of yards of
trenches. In fact we should have welcomed an infantry attack, but it
never came--only artillery long bowls.
In this the two howitzer batteries, especially Wilson's 61st, were
splendid, and spotted and knocked out gun after gun of the enemy. He
had an observing station halfway up the hill above Ste Marguerite, to
which I went occasionally, with a grand view up to Vregny and Chivres;
but even here, although the O.P. was beautifully concealed, one had
to be careful not to show a finger or a cap, for the German snipers in
the wood below were excellent shots, and there were some narrow
escapes.
The worst of it was that we could take very little exercise. I used to
go out nearly every morning before sunrise to visit the posts, but was
often surprised by the sun before I'd finished my rounds, and had to
bolt back under fire; and after sunset I'd go round to Missy, &c., and
visit the troops there. Otherwise, we could not go out at all in the
daytime--it was much too "unhealthy,"--and what with numerous meals
and little movement we grew disgustingly fat. I put in a lot of time
drawing careful maps of the position.
The farm itself was cleaned up from roof to cellar by Moulton-Barrett
and his myrmidons, but it was not perfect at first. My bed was a mass
of stale blood-stains from the wounded who had lain there before we
came, and St André, whose bed was not of the cleanest and exuded an
odd and unpleasing smell, routed about below it, and extracted the
corpse of a hen, which must have been there for ten days at least.
We cleaned up the farmyard too--it was perfectly foul when we
came--but we could not show much even there, although the gate was
always kept closed, for any sign of life was generally greeted with a
bullet. A man got one through the knee when just outside it, and the
gate itself had several holes through it. The Bedfords used to send a
company at a time there for hot tea in the mornings and evenings, for
they could not light fires where they were, and shivered accordingly.
Many were the schemes for improving their wood--trenches; and at last
Orlebar (killed later near Wulverghem), who had been a civil engineer,
drew up an arrangement for flooding the wood and retiring to a more
satisfactory line. But before it could be put into practice we got
orders to retire, and for the 12th Brigade on our left to relieve us.
This meant, of course, thinning the line terribly, and we were, with
the 12th Brigade, somewhat nervous about it, for we did not know what
it portended. But we got away during the night in perfect safety; for
although there was a full moon there was also a thick mist, and the
Germans never seemed to notice the movement, which required most
careful staff work on the part of both Brigades.
Cuthbert, seedy, was relieved by Hickie in command of the 13th Brigade
to-day.
_Oct. 2nd._
By some time in the early morning of the 2nd October--1.40 A.M. it
was, to be accurate--the whole Brigade had got back to Jury, and there
we were told, as usual, that we were to rest and recuperate for a
week; so we were not surprised at getting orders in the afternoon to
move out at 6.30 P.M., our destination being a place called Droizy. I
had caught a bad cold that day, due solely, I believe, to taking a
"woolly" into wear for the first time; and the cold fog in which we
marched did nothing to improve it. Above us was a bright clear moon,
but the fog clung heavily to the valleys, and we marched in it most of
the time. Desperate secrecy and quiet was observed, for we were
evidently doing secret marching at night for some great object; though
what it was we could only conjecture. But orders came that for the
next few days we were to march at night, and during the daytime were
to lie "doggo" and not show ourselves for fear of the enemy's
aeroplanes.
We reached Droizy at about 11 P.M. and there found the Norfolks, who
had been taken away from us at Jury ten days before and attached to
the 3rd Division on our right in the direction of Vailly. Much pleased
we were to see them again. They had not suffered many casualties,
though they had had a stiff time at their château of Chassemy, filling
the gap between the 3rd and 5th Divisions, and had been attacked
several times.
The Dorsets in arriving here managed to take a wrong turn in the
village and went careering off into the fog in the opposite direction
to where their billets had been told off for them; but they were
shortly retrieved and put on the right track. A brigade of artillery,
by the way--I forget which--was attached to our brigade area that
night, and distinguished itself next day by taking up a position in
some open fields; which led to trouble.
Our headquarters were at a curious old castle-farm belonging to one M.
Choron, right in the middle of the village, and looked after by his
father, a vice-admiral, late a director of naval construction, a nice
old fellow, who had been brutally treated by the Germans in their
retreat. There was a very old tower to the place, no surroundings
except a farmyard, and a little old kitchen of most antique aspect, in
which we had our meals.
_Oct. 3rd._
For most of the next day we had a good rest, and I stayed in bed to
doctor my cold; but orders soon came to move on, and the Brigade
started in the evening for Long Pont, a village about twelve miles
off, getting there about 11. The Divisional Commander had kindly sent
a motor-car for me; and Done, of the Norfolks (who was also rather
seedy), and Tandy, R.A., a person of large knowledge and always
interesting, accompanied me; so we arrived at Long Pont a long time
ahead of the troops.
A great big château was gleaming in the moonlight as we drove up, and
I determined that we should spend the night there, in spite of the
fact that the Divisional staff had also that intention. But when I
introduced myself to the proprietor, a courteous and frail old
gentleman, the Comte de Montesquiou-Fezensac, he bewailed the fact
that there was no room available, and this in spite of the fact that
there were dozens of big windows outside, and long corridors inside,
with heaps of rooms opening off them.
A visit to the village in search of a lodging revealed its true
state--_i.e._, that it was choke-full and dirty. But even then it
required a good deal of persuasion before the old gentleman at last
grasped the fact that I was not demanding twenty bedrooms, but only
one or two empty rooms in which twenty men could lie for the night.
Then he kindly produced mattresses and straw, and all was well. As for
myself, he was good enough to lead me to the chamber of his late
mother, a curious little room with a four-poster and locks and hasps
and cupboards of Louis XIII. times, and bundles of magnificent old
embroideries. As for washing apparatus--that also was almost of that
date.
Next day, being Sunday, we had Divine Service in the ruins of a grand
old fourteenth-century abbey which adjoined the château--wrecked in
the French Revolution and again in 1830. The park also was most
attractive, rather of the Trianon surroundings style; but several
brigades of artillery which had to be tucked away under the trees for
fear of aeroplanes rather spoilt the turf, I fear. We did, of course,
as little damage as we could, and after a friendly farewell to the old
couple I drove off, again in a motor, with Henvey (A.P.M. of 5th
Division), and preceded the Brigade to a place called Pontdron. Here I
arrived at 10 P.M.; but the Brigade, which had been heavily held up by
French troops on the march, did not turn up till nearly 4 A.M.
Meanwhile I amused myself by getting the château ready. It had, of
course, been occupied by Germans, and, equally of course, it had been
ransacked and partly wrecked by them--though a good deal of furniture
had been left. There were even candles and oil-lamps available, and of
these we made full use, as well as of the bedrooms. I chose the lady's
(Comtesse de Coupigny, with husband in the 21st Dragoons) bedroom. The
counterpane was full of mud and sand, through some beastly German
having slept on it without taking his boots off, but there was
actually a satin coverlet left, and pillows. All the stud- and
jewellery-cases had been opened and their contents stolen, and Madame
de C.'s writing-table had also been forced open, and papers and the
contents of the drawers scattered on the floor. Other unmentionable
crimes had also been committed.
Here we stayed for nearly two days, cleaning up the château, picking
up a lot of stores in the shape of boots and caps and clothing of all
sorts--not to mention some heavy mails from home,--and actually
playing lawn-tennis. At least I played with Cadell two sets, each
winning one, on a sand court with an improvised net, and racquets and
balls somewhat the worse for wear, with a lovely big hot bath to
follow.
It was gradually borne in on us that we were going to be moved off by
train to take part in a different theatre of the fighting altogether;
but where we should find ourselves we had not the least idea. What
caused us much joy to hear was that we had intercepted a German
wireless message, two days after four out of the six Divisions had
left the Aisne, to say that it was "all right, all six British
Divisions were still on the Aisne!"
_Oct. 6th._
On the 6th we moved off at 2.15 P.M. and pushed on to Béthisy St
Pierre, where the Bedfords and Norfolks and ourselves halted, whilst
the Dorsets and Cheshires pushed on to Verberies, so as to save time
for the entraining on the morrow. We got our time-table that night,
and found that we were to entrain at four stations--_i.e._, Compiègne,
Le Meux, Longueil Ste Marie, and Pont Sainte Maxence--on the
following day. Very careful arrangements and calculations had to be
made, so that the whole thing should go without a hitch, and we sat up
for some time at the Convent, a sort of educational establishment
where Brigade Headquarters was quartered, making out the orders.
A "Brigade Area" command was allotted to me, including, besides my own
Brigade, the 8th Brigade R.F.A. (howitzers), 59th Co. R.E., 15th Field
Ambulance, and 4th Co. of 5th Div. Train.
_Oct. 7th._
Then off at 5 A.M. next morning, ourselves for Pont Ste Maxence.
Major Vandeleur of the Scottish Rifles had just arrived to take
command of the Cheshires, who had had nothing but a captain to command
them since Lt.-Col. Boger was taken prisoner on the 24th August. He
seemed to me a first-rate sensible fellow, but we were not destined to
keep him for long.
As the Brigade was still rather short of socks, I bought as many as I
could here for the men, but not many were available. It was a nice
little town with a blown-up stone bridge, but the French R.E. had
already constructed another of wood.
The French entraining orders are that all troops have to be at the
station four blessed hours before the train starts, so as to give time
to load up properly. We thus arrived at 8, and did not start till 12;
but the actual entraining of the Cheshires--the only battalion with
Brigade Headquarters--took only one hour and a quarter,--not bad at
all considering that there were no ramps or decent accessories, and
all the vehicles had to be man-handled into the trucks.
There were two sorts of trains--one mostly for men, the other mostly
for horses and vehicles; but although they were very long--thirty-four
to forty cars if I remember right--they were not quite long enough for
us, and several men and vehicles had to be left behind and brought on
by other trains, resulting in slight incompleteness for a few days.
We rapidly reached Creil, where we were to get our final orders. What
on earth would our destination be? Rumour had it that we should go to
Calais, or even to Bruges; but we had no such journey after all, for
we were only intended to go to Abbeville as it turned out--rather a
disappointment, as we hoped it would be further afield.
Abbeville--a two hours' journey as a rule in peace time--was not
reached till 8 P.M., although we were due there at 6.30 P.M. We halted
by the way, for half an hour or more, at Amiens, where we made the
acquaintance of a cheery crowd of "Fusiliers Marins," sturdy naval
reservists from Normandy and Brittany, who covered themselves with
glory later on amid the Belgian dunes.
_Oct. 8th._
We were not allowed to detrain at Abbeville till 9.30 P.M., as the
platforms were already occupied by other troops. It was wretchedly
cold and pitch-dark by the time we had got away from the station, and
we marched in dead silence through the town at 12.30 A.M. Not a soul
was in the streets, not even a policeman from whom to ask the way, and
we nearly lost our direction twice.
Our orders, which we received from Dunlop (5th Divisional staff), who
was ensconced in a red-hot waiting-room in the goods yard, were to the
effect that we were to billet near Neuilly, a village about six miles
off. Done (Norfolks) had been sent ahead on the previous day to
prepare the billets, but when we got near the village, after a cold
march with a clear moon, Done was nowhere to be seen; and I nearly
ordered the battalion to "doss down" in the road, as all the houses
near were full of men of other brigades. However, Weatherby rode on,
and eventually found Done in bed at the Mairie, he having been
officially told that the Brigade would not be in till the following
day. He had had a trying time, having been deposited by his train at a
station about ten miles off, and having to make his way across country
(riding) without a map and with very vague ideas of where he was to
go. However, he had already told off billets for all the Brigade Area,
and the troops trickled in independently by battalions and batteries,
arriving by different trains and even at different stations, up to 10
A.M. in the morning. I thought it showed distinctly good work on the
part of all concerned that we concentrated our "Brigade Area" so
quickly and without being deficient of anything except the few
vehicles which had perforce been left behind for want of trucks; but
they turned up all right a day or two after. The Brigade staff
billeted at the château (as usual!), a strangely ruined-looking little
place belonging to the Comte de Belleville, now at the wars. We turned
up there about 4 A.M., and were guided thither by an old gardener, who
thumped at the door and shouted loudly for "Madame." A woman soon
appeared, and showed us most civilly to our rooms--very plain and bare
but very clean. I could not quite make her out, for though she was
dressed in the plainest of print clothes she did not talk like a
servant--in fact she talked like a lady; so I put her down as some
relation perhaps who was helping Mme de Belleville. But later in the
morning I discovered that she was Madame la Comtesse herself, who had
kindly risen at that unearthly hour to let us in, and that there were
no servants in the establishment at all except the old gardener and a
nurse.