[Illustration]
Three years in France with the Guns
BEING
EPISODES IN THE LIFE OF A FIELD
BATTERY.
[Illustration]
BY C.A. ROSE, M.C.,
LATE OF THE
ROYAL FIELD ARTILLERY.
Printed By
The Allen Lithographic Co., Ltd.,
Kirkcaldy
[Transcriber’s note: Obvious printer’s errors have been
corrected.
The original spelling has been retained.
—The caption of the illustrations were unclear.
—Page 50: “serious of raids” has been replaced by
“series of raids”
—Page 76: “must against” has been replaced by “much
against”]
Contents
INTRODUCTION
I. Breaking Us In
II. Our First Battle
III. “Peace Warfare.”
IV. In “The Salient.”
V. On the Somme
VI. Messines
VII. Ypres Again
VIII. Cambrai
IX. At Arras
X. March the 21st
XI. The Turn of the Tide
XII. Through the Hindenburg Line
INTRODUCTION
These brief notes of experiences with the guns for thirty-eight months
in France were primarily penned for my own satisfaction. Friends who
read the manuscript expressed much interest in it, and added the hope
that it might be given a more permanent form. Hence it is that it is
now printed for private circulation.
The story is a simple record of the fortunes of my own Battery and
Brigade, and is intended as a tribute to the good comradeship which
existed, under all conditions, among all ranks.
C.A.R.
Edinburgh,
_January_, 1919.
The “Grey Battery” at St. Omer, May 1917 The “Grey Battery” at St.
Omer, May 1917
CHAPTER I.
Breaking Us In
On a morning early in August, 1915, the Brigade disembarked at Havre
without mishap to man, horse, or material, and proceeded to a Rest Camp
on the outskirts of the town. We were in France at last! The same
evening the Batteries started to entrain, and every two hours a
complete unit was despatched up the line—to an unknown destination. The
men received refreshments at various Haltes, and the horses were duly
watered and fed, but the journey was, on the whole, long and tedious.
On one occasion only was the monotony broken, and that unwittingly, by
the humour of one of the officers. In the course of the evening, the
train stopped at a small station, and the compartment in which the
officers were settled drew up in front of the Buffet. Some one asked
where we were, and a subaltern, anxious to display his newly-acquired
knowledge of French, replied, “Bouvette,” which called forth no
response. Shortly afterwards the train proceeded on its way, and the
occupants of the carriage settled themselves down to sleep. All passed
quietly for the next couple of hours—then the train stopped once more,
and, as luck would have it, again our carriage came to a standstill
directly opposite the buffet of the station. At once a question was
asked as to our whereabouts. The same subaltern, shaking himself out of
a deep slumber, stretched, roused himself, and, peering out of the
window, exclaimed, “Good Lor’, still at this beastly hole, ‘Bouvette’!”
He expressed much surprise at the “unseemly mirth,” as he described it,
which followed!!
After detraining, the Battery marched through beautiful country, which
reminded one of the Borders, as it was not unlike the valley of the
Tweed, and we were at once taken to the hearts of the inhabitants of
the good village of Seningham, which place was destined to be our home
for the next few days. The officers were afforded spacious
accommodation in the house of the Maire, whilst the men had comfortable
billets in the neighbourhood. Time was spent making our unit shipshape
after its travels by land and sea, and the “hairies” obtained as much
grazing as possible, to make them fit for what was in store for them.
It was wonderful how quickly the men adapted themselves to French ways,
and much amusement was caused by their eager, if somewhat unsuccessful,
attempts to master the language of our Allies.
When it became known that the officers were anxious to increase their
knowledge of the language of the country, the maidens of the village
vied with one another to obtain posts as instructresses, and there was
nearly a free fight amongst them for the possession of our worthy
Senior Subaltern, whose taking ways did not fail to catch their
attention!
But, alas! our peaceful warfare was not to be for long! One morning
sudden orders came through to prepare for the line in a couple of days’
time. All was instant bustle, extra grooming was given to the horses,
and finishing touches were put to the howitzers and vehicles. We were
to be given a trial in action to show how we would comport ourselves
before joining the “Feet” of our own Division, the Guards, who at that
time were out at rest. For this purpose we were to be placed under the
orders of the C.R.A. of an Indian Division, to reinforce the Batteries
already in positions and receive instruction from them.
At last the morning arrived to move off, the column, skirting the town
of St. Omer, took the main road to Hazebrouck, and, as we passed
through the village of Arques, we caught a first glimpse of our future
infantry. They appeared equally keen on seeing their new artillery, and
inspected us with a critical eye. The march was made in easy stages,
and on the morning of the third day the Brigade arrived at Merville, a
quaint old town in Flemish Flanders. After a hasty lunch, the officers
rode ahead, in order to get into touch with the unit we were to support
in the line, and another amusing incident happened _en route_. One of
the Junior Officers owned a sturdy mare, whose reputation as a charger
was apt to be ridiculed by his companions, as she was notorious for her
slow gait. When the party had proceeded some distance at the trot,
“Halting Hilda” was observed, to the astonishment of everyone, to be
gradually taking the lead. This fact called forth the remark from her
master, “By Jove, she is pulling extraordinarily hard to day: what can
be the matter with the animal?” It was then discovered that the rider
had been at her mercy for the last couple of miles, the bit clanking
merrily from side to side under her great jaw. In the hurry and
excitement of departure, after lunch! the bit had not been replaced in
her mouth!
The afternoon was spent in reconnoitering the gun positions allotted to
us, which were the alternative positions of the units already in line.
As a rule, each battery makes a second or alternative gun position, in
case it should be shelled out of its existing one, so that no delay
takes place in getting into action again. When night fell there was
subdued excitement in the wagon line as the time drew near to take the
guns “in.” This was actually the beginning of our first venture—would
we have the luck to get there without being caught in the enemy’s
harassing fire? How would we behave under shell-fire: would we be
steady or otherwise? All these and many other questions flashed through
our minds, for a great deal depends, more than one would believe, on
how a new and inexperienced unit receives its baptism of fire.
At length a start was made, and the Battery moved off, and soon turned
down the long, straight main road leading to La Bassée, the trees on
either side showing signs of shrapnel scars, and even in the darkness
it could be seen that the cottages were, for the most part, in ruins.
It felt distinctly eerie as the small column proceeded silently on its
way without showing lights of any description; the stillness and
darkness broken now and again by the barking of a gun as we drew nearer
the battery zone, and by an occasional Verey Light, which seemed to
reveal us in all our nakedness. That long stretch of road seemed
interminable—were we never going to reach our destination? However, all
remained quiet throughout our progress, and at last we arrived at the
entrance to the gun position, which was to be our home for the next
fortnight. The guns were speedily unlimbered and man-handled into the
pits awaiting their reception, the ammunition was unloaded from the
vehicles, and the teams were returned to the wagon line.
The following morning the pieces were “layed out” on our particular
zone, and we had time to look round and take stock of our new abode,
which was a farmhouse standing in the centre of an orchard adjoining
the main road. The building itself was by no means intact, although, as
yet, habitable. It gave us enough shelter of a kind, and we soon
adjusted ourselves to the prevailing conditions, and the outhouses
surrounding it afforded ample accommodation for the detachments. The
gun pits were cunningly concealed in the front portion of the orchard,
special care having been taken against the prying eyes of hostile
aeroplanes. We were fortunate in the choice of position made for our
first time in the line, for two reasons, firstly, it was an interesting
zone—including the village of Neuve Chapelle now immediately behind our
front line—and, secondly, it was quiet. The country there is extremely
flat, with the exception of Aubers Ridge, which, occupied by the enemy,
overlooked us to a certain extent, although the many trees and woods
prevented his having an uninterrupted view. Our tuition began at once,
and we were conducted to the front line through innumerable
communication trenches, which, at first, reminded one of a maze at an
exhibition, the only difference being that numerous notice-boards
directed our movements.
There we were welcomed, with smiling faces, by men of a Ghurka
battalion, their white teeth and flashing eyes showing up their brown
skins. Now and then they would stop sharpening their deadly-looking
kukris, their dearest possession, to allow us to pass along the trench.
Nothing delighted these brave little men more than to be permitted to
go on a silent raid at night, when they wormed themselves through the
wire in “No Man’s Land,” and did as much damage on the other side as
possible. They have been known to enter the enemy trenches without a
sound, killing everyone within reach, and to return radiant, quite
unscathed. When questioned as to why they had not brought in any
prisoners for identification purposes, they would merely roll their
eyes, shrug their shoulders, and say, “Enemy all quiet, he asleep,” and
calmly remove the still warm gore from their knives! Continuing on our
way, we next struck a Highland regiment, the necessary complement of
the one of stout little men just left behind. It was most interesting,
as one had heard so much about the traditional good comradeship
existing, in India, between Ghurka and Highlander, and here they were
still side by side in France. Their mutual admiration is boundless and
unconcealed, and it was most amusing to watch the little men aping the
ways of the big Highlanders, who look huge in comparison with them. The
Ghurka regiments have their own pipe bands, and play them as if they,
too, had been born and bred in the mountains and glens of Scotland.
Soon we came to a fire bay, specially well placed to obtain a good view
of the enemy trenches, which had been converted into what is known as
an O.P., _i.e._, an artillery observation post. These O.P.’s are manned
during daylight by the F.O.O. (Forward Observation Officer) and his
signaller assistants. Their job is to keep a close watch on hostile
trenches, watching for any unusual movement or for the appearance of
new constructive works, such as machine gun emplacements or new saps.
The O.P. has numerous wires leading into it, and these come from all
the batteries in immediate support of that part of the line, which are
jointly responsible for its defence. Our own signallers had been out
early, and a wire had already been carefully laid and labelled from our
gun position to the O.P., so we were now ready to register our
howitzers on some definite object behind the enemy lines. A house, or
some such landmark which is shewn on our trench maps, is usually chosen
to calibrate upon. There is little trouble in effecting this, but, at
first, there is some difficulty in following the rounds as they fall,
through a periscope, owing to its small field of vision. It was,
however, imperative to make use of that instrument, in this case, as an
enemy sniper, watchful and on the alert, had already seen the top of
it, and from time to time a bullet passed overhead unpleasantly close.
This served to remind us to be discreet and to run no risks by exposing
ourselves in the slightest degree above the parapet. Sometimes it is
very difficult to restrain one’s enthusiasm when there is an
interesting shoot taking place.
The pieces being duly registered, the Battery is now ready for any
emergency, and theoretically we can engage any target in our arc of
fire. It is then essential to learn the country in hostile territory,
and one looks out for likely targets and for points at which one can
inconvenience the enemy by keeping him under constant harassing fire.
This work must necessarily be done from a point of vantage where a good
wide view can be obtained, and, in most cases, a house, tree, or high
piece of ground well behind the lines, is selected for a Rear O.P.
In an incredibly short space of time every officer learns the country
off by heart, and can bring any gun to bear on a particular target at
short notice. At first Junior Officers are allowed practice shoots on
targets well behind the enemy lines, and as they gain confidence and
experience, are entrusted with “close shoots,” _i.e._, firing on
hostile emplacements, etc., in the front line, a job which requires
extreme caution and accuracy, as “No Man’s Land” averages not more than
200 yards in width in most places. Batteries can always communicate
with Battalion Headquarters in the line, a wire, usually buried,
leading from there to our Brigade Headquarters, and each Battery has
its own private wire to the latter place. In the same way one can be
linked up with nearly every unit in a Division by means of an Exchange
run by the Royal Engineers.
A few days sufficed us to make ourselves quite at home, and officers
went freely about “seeking whom they might devour,” visited old
established O.P.’s, and searched for new or better ones. It is a
curious fact that the average subaltern is never fully satisfied with
an O.P., and is always bent on discovering “something better,” although
in few cases is his ambition realised! One officer favours this O.P.,
another that, and on this occasion the one which our worthy Battery
Commander had a preference for was a most unpleasant place, commonly
known as “The Doll’s House,” though why so called no one could tell. At
any rate, it was an abode to be avoided on all possible occasions, and
the subalterns were quite convinced it was the registering place of all
the hostile batteries within range and vision. At any rate, we daily
found less and less of the building, until one day the staircase was
blown away as well as the perch on top which afforded us our view.
Great was the relief when the B.C. at last declared the O.P. “out of
action” until further notice.
Nearly every O.P. has an appropriate name given to it, and so we
repaired to “Stink Farm” after abandoning our old love! We put in most
useful days of practice there, and the knowledge and experience gained
was invaluable. Our thanks were due to the enemy for his consideration
in allowing us to conduct our daily tasks almost unmolested: he showed
himself to be most lethargic and sleepy, and did not waken up unless we
were unusually energetic. Perhaps his chief reason for remaining so
inactive was the absence of any heavy guns on our side. Our largest
piece was a 60 pdr., and he may have thought mere Field Artillery
beneath his consideration. Nor was he more active in the air; his
planes rarely passed over our lines, and when they did, it was at so
great a height that it was quite impossible for them to gather
information. However, one day, we were extremely fortunate in seeing a
hostile plane, that had ventured to cross over our lines at a lower
altitude, brought down in flames by a direct hit from an “Archie”
battery lying in wait close behind our own position. It is a rare
sight, for, to tell the truth, anti-aircraft batteries are not held in
particularly high respect by anyone except by those of their own ilk,
and on only two other occasions did we ever see the like again.
Our fortnight soon sped by, and we were quite reluctant when the time
came to go “out.” We left our neighbours, who had befriended us so
well, with the sincere hope that we would have the good fortune to meet
and lie alongside of them again in the future. This hope, however, was
not destined to be fulfilled. We retraced our steps through Merville
and Aire to the same area from whence we came, to a village called
Nielles, in order to concentrate as a Division, which, when formed, was
designated the Guards Division.
The inhabitants, as usual, extended a warm welcome to us and showed us
every consideration, and we settled down to enjoy the peaceful
surroundings bathed in the warm and pleasant September sunshine, while
the Senior Subaltern availed himself of the opportunity of again laying
siege to the hearts of his former conquests at Seningham close by. Our
own C.R.A. came to visit us here, and the officers were severally
introduced to him. He expressed satisfaction at the report which came
to him from the line, concerning our conduct in action, and added that
the high opinion formed of us at home had in no wise been diminished,
and that our reputation merited the distinction conferred on us of
being selected as the Artillery of the Guards from among the many units
of the new Army.
Thus we waited, confident in the belief that, whatever we were in the
future called upon to do, we would at least put up a good show, and
determined to be a credit to the Division of which we now formed a
part. We had not long to wait, whispers passed round that we would be
up and doing at no distant date, and these rumours proved to be well
founded.