went off in the afternoon at 6 P.M., reinforced now by some divisional
cavalry and divisional cyclists. The road, in the dark, was an
extremely complicated one, as it involved about twenty turnings and
movement along narrow lanes with high hedges and big trees, making it
quite impossible to see for more than a few yards. So I took the
guiding of the column into my own hands, and distributed the rest of
my staff along it to see that the different units did not miss the way
and kept well closed up. The result was good, and after 5 hours march,
_viâ_ Agenvilliers and Gueschard, we reached the little village of
Boufflers about 11 P.M. Here, at an odd little Nouvel Art "Château"--or
rather small country house, empty of its owners--belonging to M.
Sagebien, Préfet de Niort, we of the Brigade staff put up, the rest of
the command being billeted in the tiny villages lining each bank of
the tiny stream near--I have forgotten its name.
_Oct. 9th._
It was a nice sunny day on the morrow, and we got our orders by midday
that we were to move off at 2 P.M. We wrote out Brigade orders and
prepared to start, when suddenly post-haste came some orders
cancelling these, and telling us that we were to drop our transport
and be moved off at once in a series of motor-buses to a place called
Diéval.
And then began a lovely jumble, which resulted (not our own fault) in
getting to Diéval rather later than we should have done had we trusted
to our own unaided powers of locomotion.
We moved off at 2 P.M., only taking blanket-waggons which were to dump
blankets and supplies into the buses. These were to have turned up on
the Haravesnes-Fillièvres road at 7 P.M.; in any case it would have
been a complicated job getting into them in the dark, but they did not
arrive till midnight, owing to some mechanical breakdowns in the
column. The first lot of "camions" were to have taken six
battalions--_i.e._, the 14th Brigade, which was just ahead of us, and
half of the 15th Brigade. But when they did arrive, there were only
enough for three and three-quarter battalions; so we bivouacked in
more or less peace by the roadside until this bunch had moved off and
returned from Diéval to fetch us. Horribly cold it was too, and we
only kept moderately warm by pulling down several straw stacks--which
we carefully put together again next day--and covering ourselves up in
the straw.
I had, by the way, an extremely narrow escape from being killed that
night. I had been lying down just off the road, when it struck me that
I should find out more of what was happening and going to happen if I
went to the head of the camion column and interviewed the officer in
charge. It was a tramp of a mile or more through the 14th Brigade, and
I found out something of what I wanted; but when I returned to the
bivouac I heard that, not two minutes after I had started, a motor-bus
had swerved off the road and passed exactly over the place where my
head had been. It very nearly went over St André and Moulton-Barrett,
who were lying a few feet away, as it was. Of course the driver could
not see any one lying down in the dark.
_Oct. 10th._
Next morning we had breakfast at 7.30 in the field, and still the
buses had not returned. We waited in that place till 11 o'clock before
they turned up, and then clambered into them as quickly as we
could--twenty-two men to a bus, sixteen buses to 300 metres being the
allowance. Even then we had to leave about two battalions behind for a
third trip.
I got into the first bus--a very fast one,--and reached Diéval some
time before the rest of the Brigade; but there was no room in the town
for another Brigade, as it was already full of the 14th.
I went to see Rolt, and got into telephone communication with
Divisional Headquarters on the subject, and they gave me leave to
billet at La Thieuloye, one and a half miles back and off the road. So
W. and I walked back and turned the buses off there just as they were
arriving.
A curious sight were the hundreds, or even thousands, of French
civilians whom we met--all men of military age, whom the French Army
was sending away westwards out of Lille; for it was likely that Lille
would shortly be invested by the Germans, and they did not want this
large batch of recruits and reservists to be interned in Germany.
The rest of the Brigade--transport, horses, and all--rolled up by 6
P.M., the horses being very tired after their long night march.
From what I could gather German cavalry was trying to get round our
north-west flank, whilst a big fight was going on at Arras. Lille,
with a few Territorial battalions in it, was still holding out, but
was surrounded by the enemy. Hence the hurry. But we ought to have
plenty of troops now to keep the Germans off. It was very puzzling to
make out what was happening, for we had not even the vaguest idea
where the rest of our own Army was, let alone the French or Germans.
Nobody seemed to know anything, except that we should probably soon be
fighting again.
Our quarters that night were a horrid little château--empty, damp, and
desolate, in a deserted wilderness of a place, with no furniture
except some straw, a mattress or two, and some packing-cases. So here
we tried to make ourselves comfortable, and succeeded in lighting a
fire and settling down. But it was beastly cold and damp.
_Oct. 11th._
We marched at 7.20 A.M. in a thick damp mist, myself being in charge
of the right column of the Division, consisting of the Brigade, the
15th Brigade R.F.A., 108th heavy battery (under Tyrrell, late Military
Attaché at Constantinople), 17th R.E. Fd. Co., and cyclists (who, by
the way, did not turn up, having been sent ahead). On the way to
Béthune we were evidently coming into touch with the enemy, for I
received orders to detach two companies (Cheshires) to our right flank
at Fonquières Verquin to support the French. But they returned in the
course of the afternoon, not being wanted.
Outside Béthune we halted for some time, and were regaled with soup
and pears by some hospitable ladies at luncheon-time. And then we
received orders to push through the town and cover it along the bend
of the canal and across the arc of it (from Essars due east) with
three battalions, the Norfolks being sent away to the east to help the
French about Annequin.
It was perfectly flat country and difficult to defend, as it was so
cut up by high hedges and suburbs; but I went round it in the
afternoon, inspected it carefully, and posted the battalions. Towards
evening, however, we had orders to fall back into the town--the French
taking over the outposts--and billet there, our Headquarters being in
the Grande Place--a large square with a curious old belfry in the
middle--at a wine-shop, No. 34. Here we were well looked after, and
had each of us a lovely hot bath, provided by a marvellous system of
gas-jets which heated the water in about five minutes.
_Oct. 12th._
Off eastwards next morning at 8.30 A.M. through a freezing thick
fog--so thick that one could not see twenty yards in front of one. The
big open space in the town through which we passed was occupied with
masses of Spahis, Moorish troops, and Algerians of all sorts, looking
miserably cold in their scarlet jackets and white burnouses. The idea
was that we were to push forward to Festubert and act as a pivot, with
our right near the canal at Rue de l'Épinette, to the 3rd Division and
the remainder of the Corps, which were swinging slowly round to their
right so as eventually to face south-east and take La Bassée.
At first my orders directed me to leave a gap between myself and the
canal, the gap being filled by French troops; but shortly afterwards I
was told that the Brigade was to hold from Festubert to the canal,
relieving the French cavalry here, who were to hold on till we got
there; and I paid a visit to the French cavalry General at Gorre to
make sure that this would be done. The line was a horribly extended
one--about two miles; and the prospect was not entrancing. However, I
detached the Dorsets to move along the canal bank from Gorre and get
in touch with the French. Very glad I was that I had done so, for they
had severe fighting there that day against a strong force of the
enemy, who tried to get in between us and the French.
The Bedfords I ordered to hold Givenchy. The first rumour was that the
French had evacuated Givenchy before we could come up, and that the
Germans had occupied it; but this turned out not to be true after all.
The Cheshires held Festubert, and the Norfolks were in Divisional
reserve somewhere in rear.
Meanwhile the Germans were attacking along the canal; but the Dorsets
checked them most gallantly, losing poor Roper, killed in leading a
charge, and a number of men. Lilly was wounded at the same time.
The Headquarters passed most of that day--and an extremely busy Staff
day it was--in a little pothouse in Festubert, and we slept in a tiny
house put at our disposal by one Masse, gendarme, a gallant old
soldier, who was the only representative of civilian authority in the
place, the Maire having bolted, and his second in command being sick
unto death in his own house.
_Oct. 13th._
The night went off fairly peaceably, but early next morning we had a
nasty jar, for it was reported at 8 A.M. that Majors Vandeleur
(commanding) and Young (2nd in command) of the Cheshires, together
with a company and a half, had all been made prisoners or killed by
the Germans about Rue d'Ouvert. The circumstantial story was that the
early morning patrols had reported that Rue d'Ouvert (about a mile in
front of Festubert) was free of Germans; that Vandeleur and Young had
gone out with two platoons to make sure of it, had got into Rue
d'Ouvert and found it empty at first, but had been subsequently fired
at from the houses, surrounded by superior numbers, and had been taken
prisoners after losing half their men. As for Shore's company, who
were supporting them, they had disappeared completely and had
apparently suffered the same fate.
I immediately sent out scouts to find out the truth; but a very heavy
fire was by this time opened on the remainder of the Cheshires, and
the scouts could not get through. No further news even came in of
Shore's company, but we could not believe that it had really been
scuppered, or else there would have been much more firing, and we must
have had some news of the disaster, if it had occurred.
And so it was. Towards 3 o'clock we had news that the company was
safely tucked away in some ditches, holding its front, and had had
practically no losses, although it could not move out without
attracting a heavy artillery fire.
Not till long afterwards did I hear what had really happened to
Vandeleur, and then it was from his own lips in January 1915, he
having escaped from Crefeld just before Christmas. It appeared that he
and Young had gone up with about half a company in support of some
scouts who had reported Rue d'Ouvert clear. The half company did not,
however, go into Rue d'Ouvert, for they were violently attacked by
superior forces before they got there. They lost heavily, but
succeeded in getting into a farmhouse, which they held all day against
the enemy, hoping that we should move out and rescue them. But we, of
course, had been told circumstantially that they were already
prisoners at 8 A.M., so knew nothing of it and took no action.
The enemy set the house on fire, and the gallant little garrison put
it out with wine from the cellars, for they were cut off from the
water-supply. Their numbers were reduced to about thirty, when they
were again attacked in overwhelming force at 9 P.M., and many of the
remainder (including Vandeleur) wounded. Then there was no choice, and
they surrendered, being complimented on their gallantry by the German
General in command at La Bassée. They were then sent off to Germany
_viâ_ Douai, and were most abominably treated on the journey, wounded
and all being pigged together in a filthy cattle-truck three inches
deep in manure for thirty hours without food or water, insulted and
kicked by the German escort and a brute of a lieutenant at Douai, and
finally sent to Crefeld, where they were again ill-treated, starved,
and left in tents with no covering--their greatcoats, and even their
tunics, having been taken away,--nothing to lie on except damp and
verminous straw, on muddy wet ground. Many men died of this treatment.
The officers were treated somewhat better, but very harshly, and were
never given enough to eat. Vandeleur's escape is "another story."
That day was a terrible day: Givenchy was bombarded heavily by the
Germans for hours, and rendered absolutely untenable. The Bedfords
held out there gallantly, and stuck to one end of the village whilst
the enemy was in possession of the other; but the heavy artillery was
too much for them, and after losing about sixty casualties, many of
them killed by falling houses, they gradually fell back to trenches in
rear of the village. Griffith (commanding) and Macready (Adjutant)
came to see me about 3 P.M., their clothes and faces a mass of white
dust and plaster, and explained the situation; but there was nothing
to be done, as we had no reserves, and had to stick it out as best we
could.
But by far the worst was what happened to the Dorsets. The account of
what happened was rather confused, but it appears that, depending on
their left being supported by the Bedfords at Givenchy, and their
right by the K.O.S.B.'s (13th Brigade) on the south side of the Canal,
they pushed forward for some distance and dug themselves roughly in,
after driving the Germans back. Then suddenly their front trench was
attacked from the left rear, and a heavy fire poured upon their men as
they retired on their supports. They were also shot down from the
embankment on the south of the Canal--from just where they had
expected the K.O.S.B.'s to be.
At one place about twenty Germans advanced and held up their hands.
The Dorsets then advanced to take their surrender, when suddenly the
twenty fell down flat, and about 100 more who had come close up under
cover of the incident opened a heavy fire on our men and killed a
lot. The battalion retired slowly, in admirable order, to Pont Fixe
and the trenches covering it, and put a big factory there in a state
of defence. But they had lost very heavily: thirteen officers killed
(including Pitt and Davidson), wounded (including Bols and Rathbone),
and missing; and 112 men killed and wounded, and 284 missing--most of
these, I fear, being killed, for numbers of bodies were discovered
later on between the lines. Bols was at first reported killed, but he
only had a bullet through his back, narrowly missing the spine, and
another through his arm. He fell unseen and had to be left behind when
the battalion retired, and was found and stripped of all his kit by
the Germans; but he recovered in the darkness, and managed to scramble
and crawl back to the English lines. (From here he was sent to London,
arriving there only two days later.)
We also lost two guns there, which had been brought up from the 15th
R.F.A. Brigade and could not be got away in time. A gallant attempt
was made by volunteers to recover them next day, but it was useless
and only cost more lives.
The Dorsets as well as the Bedfords also lost one of their
machine-guns. Altogether it was a damnable day, and we on the staff
were also pretty well exhausted by the amount of staff work and
telegrams and messages going through all day. The 2nd Devons (or
rather two companies of them) were sent to the assistance of the
Dorsets in the evening; but it was a difficult thing to carry out, as
the banks of the Canal, along which they had to go, were soft and
boggy, and they had much difficulty in getting their S.A.A. carts
along.
The Brigade Headquarters withdrew in the evening from Festubert to a
foul big farm about half a mile back. This, from a particularly
offensive big cesspool in the middle of the yard, we labelled Stink
Farm (it had 1897 in big red tiles on the roof). It was a beastly
place, and W. and I had to sleep in a tiny room on a couple of beds
which had not seen clean mattresses or coverings for certainly ten
years or more. There were, however, plenty of barns and clean straw
for the men.
_Oct. 14th._
The general idea was to continue to push forward, with our right on
the Canal, to let the 3rd Division swing round. But though we did our
best, we could not get forward as long as the 13th Brigade on our
right, on the other side of the Canal, were held up--for if we
advanced that would merely mean getting our right flank exposed and
enfiladed by the enemy.
[Illustration: Givenchy-Violaines.]
Two more companies of the Devons arrived, to support the remains of
the Dorsets, from the 14th Brigade, the battalion being under
Lieutenant-Colonel Gloster. But we could not do any good, and except
for an immense number of messages we did little all day. The enemy was
in some strength in our front, but did not attack.
There was very heavy firing at 6.30 P.M. and again at 9 P.M. all along
our line of outposts, and we thought at first it was a night attack;
but it was only a case of false alarm on the part of the Dorsets on
the right and the 14th Brigade on our left.
I forgot to mention that we were told to advance with the 13th Brigade
at 3 P.M., but the latter were held up, and relieved in the evening by
the 58th French Brigade. What immediately happened to the 13th I do
not remember; but they were eventually sent round on to the left of
the 11th Brigade, I believe.
_Oct. 15th._
The French were meanwhile heavily attacking Vermelles, and we were to
be ready to advance alongside them if they succeeded. I sent
Moulton-Barrett to the Canal to receive the message from the French
through Chapman (our Divisional Intelligence officer) when it came.
But it never came, for the French made no progress; so we did nothing
except dig proper trenches and strengthen our positions.
In the evening came in reports that the Germans were withdrawing and
evacuating posts in our front. The remains of the Dorsets were
withdrawn into reserve, and the Devons came under my orders in their
place.
_Oct. 16th._
There was a dripping thick mist nearly all day, and we pushed on under
its cover--the Bedfords into Givenchy (losing poor Rendall, killed by
the retiring Germans), and the Norfolks into Rue d'Ouvert and St
Roch, whilst the Devons, ordered to make the footbridge to Canteleux
road "good," pushed on in the afternoon. But it got so absolutely
pitch-dark that it was impossible to make a cohesive advance; so after
getting close to the footbridge and coming under a heavy fire thence,
the Devons fell back again, all the more justified since Canteleux was
reported still occupied by the enemy on their left flank. A vast
amount of staff work all day. We returned to the Festubert pothouse in
the evening.
_Oct. 17th._
The first question was, Was Canteleux occupied by the enemy?
Preparations were made to shell it at 6 A.M., but figures were seen
strolling about there which did not look very German. Shortly
afterwards the Norfolks reported that they had about sixty men in it
who had penetrated thither during the night. The Bedfords at first
were still convinced that the men in Canteleux were German, but we
disabused them as soon as we heard the truth for certain, and for a
change shelled some farms to our front whence hostile machine-gun fire
was proceeding, setting one on fire.
In the afternoon we were ordered to advance to the line:
bridge--Canteleux--Violaines; and again the Devons pushed on, slowly,
in connection with the French, but were again obliged to retire from
the vicinity of the bridge by heavy fire, and took up their position
in the advanced position that the Dorsets had occupied on the 13th.
The Cheshires, under the three gallant captains, Shore, Mahony, and
Rich, meanwhile worked well forward and reported their arrival at
Violaines at 4 P.M., having reached it _viâ_ Rue du Marais.
A desperate amount of work again, 5 A.M. to 11 P.M. I only got out of
the pothouse for twenty minutes all day, and that was at 5 P.M.
Thus we had pushed forward some way on our line by the evening, and
the 14th Brigade was in touch with the Cheshires and moving slowly
forward--but very slowly.
_Oct. 18th._
Next day the usual "general advance" was ordered for 6 A.M., and the
artillery loosed off a lot of shells on to where we thought the enemy
were. But it was really quite useless our advancing on the right
unless the French did also, for the Germans held the south bank of
the Canal in front of the latter, and any advance by us merely exposed
our right flank to a terrible enfilade fire.
Major-General Morland, who had succeeded Sir C. Fergusson in command
of the Division, now turned up, and to him I explained these things.
The Railway Triangle was the worst place, for it was heavily held by
Germans, who had dug themselves in behind stockades of rails and
trucks and defied even our howitzers; but it was difficult, very
difficult, for the latter to make good practice at them here, as the
country was so flat, yet so cut up with high trees and fences that it
was almost impossible to get an observing station or to see what one
was firing at.
I shifted Brigade Headquarters about 1 P.M. to a nice little house
with garden, close behind the cross-roads half a mile west of
Givenchy, and here we stayed for four unpleasant days. We had to be
very careful, after dark, not to show a light of any sort towards the
enemy, and had to plaster up the windows with blankets and things
which every now and then came down with a run, causing rapid
transition to total darkness and discomfort. But it was a good little
place on the whole, and quite decently furnished.
In the afternoon I went to observe what I could from Givenchy. The
village was already in ruins, with most of the church blown down,
whilst the only place to observe from was from between the rafters of
a barn on the eastern outskirts--most of the roof having been carried
away by shrapnel. There was not much to see; for although Givenchy
stood on the only little rise in the country, a tree in one direction
and a chapel in the other blocked most of the view towards La Bassée.
In front of us lay the Bedford trenches, with the Devons on their
right and the French on their right again. One could just see the farm
buildings of Canteleux, and the spires of part of La Bassée, but St
Roch was invisible, and so were the Norfolk trenches.
Later on I went to interview Gloster, commanding the Devons; but I did
not find him. With a French orderly and a Devon officer I rode through
Pont Fixe and turned to the left along the Canal. Then we had to
dismount at a bend of the Canal, which brought us into view of the
enemy, and we bolted across bullet-swept ground into the right of the
Devon trenches. Here I waited about an hour; but Gloster did not turn
up, and meanwhile a heavy hostile fusillade went on which effectually
prevented my putting my nose above ground. I don't know whether they
had spotted me going into that trench, but I do know the parapet
received an unfair share of bullets.
When it was nearly dark I cleared out and went to the Canal and
whistled for my mare (I had been riding Squeaky). The French orderly
turned up leading her, but his own horse had gone,--as he ruefully
explained, "à cause d'un obus qui a éclaté tout près dans l'eau." He
was a good youth: he had stuck to my mare and let his own go, as he
could not manage both. However, virtue was rewarded, and he found his
horse peacefully grazing in the outskirts of Pont Fixe.
When I reached Headquarters I found Gloster there, for he had come to
look for me; so I had the required interview with him and settled
about a rearrangement of his trenches.
_Oct. 19th._
We actually had a quiet night--six and a half hours' sleep without
being disturbed at all.
[Illustration: The Footbridge over the Canal.]
An attack was ordered for 7 A.M. in conjunction with the French. But
the French were not ready at that hour. I was told that the 6th
battalion of the 295th Regiment, which had now been brought over to
the north of the Canal, was to be under my orders; but hardly had I
heard this when I received a message at 9.25 A.M. that the French were
going to attack at 9.30. At noon they did so, and very pluckily. It
was, however, impossible to assist them, for they (the 6/295) ran
forward and attacked the Canal and footbridge obliquely, completely
masking any action possible by the Devons They lost heavily, I fear,
but it really was not our fault, though at one time they seemed to
think it was.
I went to talk to Lieut.-Col. Perron, who commanded the detachment
(6/295 and a few Chasseurs à Cheval), in the afternoon; but the
interview did not enlighten me very much. The commander of the 6/295,
however, one Baron d'Oullenbourg, was most intelligent, and a gallant
fellow with plenty of _nous_. He was badly wounded two days afterwards
in another attempt.