In “The Salient.”
It soon became known that we were bound for Ypres. This town will,
without doubt, be the Mecca in France of the British soldier for all
time. This place, above all others, was always mentioned with a voice
of reverence and awe, and is hallowed by the presence of the gallant
dead who helped in its defence. It was truly the most ill-favoured
sector on the whole of the front held by our armies.
Proceeding by way of Hazebrouck and Cassel, we entered the area
immediately behind the Salient and took up our quarters near the
village of Arneke, for we were not yet due for our spell of duty in the
line. At this time the weather was most unpropitious, and rendered
training in any shape or form out of the question. The ground was
covered with snow to the depth of several inches, and the roads were,
for the most part, frost-bound. A Divisional Artillery Horse Show was
organised, however, and great keenness was displayed by all the
batteries, who spent most of their time horse coping until the day of
the event, which was held at Zeggers Capelle. Our Right Section
Commander, with a team of fine little blacks, managed to secure the
second prize in the principal event.
Several days afterwards we relieved the Division who were holding the
left centre of the Salient, and took up our position on the northern
extremity of Ypres itself, close to the Dead End of the Canal, a short
distance from “Salvation Corner.” Here a short description of the
position is imperative, in order to give some idea of the awkward
nature of this sector and of the conditions attaching thereto. The
distance between the jaws of the Salient was some five miles
across—from the banks of the Yser Canal at Boesinghe on the north to
the neighbourhood of St. Eloi on the south, while the ground held by us
extended about two and-a half miles east of Ypres in a semi-circle.
Nearly everywhere the enemy was established on rising ground and
overlooked our territory, and, with few exceptions, all that was
visible to us was his first line system. The enemy was thus enabled to
detect any movement behind our line, while we were more or less
“blind.”
Owing to the confined space through which an entrance into the Salient
could be effected, great difficulty was experienced in the matter of
transport, as there was only one main artery, namely, the
Ypres-Poperinghe road. Every evening at dusk this thoroughfare was
crowded with all manner of vehicles, an endless stream, coming and
going throughout the night, and from Vlamertinghe onwards the road was
subjected to constant shelling, and was enfiladed from either side.
Piles of wreckage were always to be seen on the following morning,
which told the tale of the previous night’s work, and this long,
straight piece of road holds more sentiment for the British soldier
than any other.
It was soon quite evident that the enemy was acquainted with our
location, and it was imperative to prepare an alternative position. A
site was chosen across the road, in the garden of a private villa, well
sheltered by shrubs and trees. As soon as the work was completed and a
communication trench constructed, covered with turf and plants, we
commenced moving the guns. This was done without interference from the
enemy until the last gun was in the act of being placed in position,
when, as luck would have it, a shrapnel shell burst in front of the
party, mortally wounding one layer and injuring another. Our B.C.,
also, who was assisting, received a bullet through his arm, and was
forced to leave us. This was the second mishap we had suffered during
the course of the first few days, as the Right Section Commander had
already been lost to us. Having an insatiable thirst for knowledge,
this Officer had left the O.P. with his telephonist in order to explore
the front line, which, as everyone who knows the Salient will readily
own, was somewhat difficult to recognise in places, especially by a
newcomer. Suffering as he did from acute absent-mindedness, it was not
surprising that this zealous officer awakened suddenly from his
day-dreams to discover that something was wrong, and found himself
standing with his companion waist high in a shallow disused trench,
which, on further investigation, appeared uncommonly like “No Man’s
Land!” After a brief consultation, they decided to retrace their steps.
Alas! all too late: a hostile sniper, reserving his fire in the hope
that they would continue to walk into the enemy trenches, on seeing
them turn about, and thus being baulked of his prize and the prospect
of a fortnight’s leave in his own country, fired a bullet which passed
through the thighs of both men one after the other. A party of our
infantry, unable to attract their attention and put them right in time,
had witnessed this little drama, and proceeded, at great personal risk
and at the expense of at least one of their number being wounded, to
extricate the two unfortunates and convey them to the nearest dressing
station. It was not until a late hour that night that word came to us
at the Mess that the missing party had been passed through the prison
at Ypres, on their way to a C.C.S. Now, our Battery Commander, after
great trouble, had lately gained possession of an improved type of
periscope, which he had been persuaded to lend the F.O.O. on that day,
and, on receipt of this news, his first thought was for the safety of
his precious instrument. The fact that two valuable casualties had
resulted did not seem to weigh with him in the least compared with its
loss, and he was not to be consoled until it was ascertained that the
periscope was in safe keeping. Only then could he be persuaded to make
enquiries as to the nature of their wounds and express his sorrow at
their misfortune.
The Infantry found the trenches in an appalling state, and forthwith
proceeded to repair them, but the enemy would not allow this to go on
long, and, after a few days’ work had been spent on them, a couple of
hours’ bombardment would suffice to demolish anything that had been
done. As it was a case of labour lost, all attempts at building on a
large scale were soon abandoned.
Many interesting excursions were made in and around the town. There was
a certain amount of splendour about the ruined place. The high battered
remains of the Cloth Hall Tower stood up in proud defiance in the
centre of the stricken city, while the ancient ramparts surrounding it
gloried in their battle scars and showed a dauntless front to the
enemy.
A good deal of annoyance was caused in getting about from place to
place through the uncongenial presence of a couple of hostile high
velocity guns which were commonly known as “Quick Dick” and “Silent
Sue,” his consort. They were so named on account of the rapidity with
which the shells arrived, and there was little or no warning of their
coming. Their chief object was to harass the neighbourhood, for they
appeared to have no definite target but just dropped a shell here and
there, trapping the unwary and doing considerable damage, as well as
effectively raising a certain amount of “wind”!
As conditions suited the enemy admirably, many raids were made by him,
and, on one occasion, he launched four simultaneously, one on each
sector of the Salient, after a sharp and heavy bombardment. He attacked
us between Wieltje and Potijge, but was unsuccessful in his endeavour
to obtain an identification. The attempt was frustrated, and the only
result was that he left a number of prisoners in our hands.
About the middle of May, the Division came out and returned to the area
behind Poperinghe. There was an unexpected treat in store for the
Brigade, for it was shortly sent down to the coast for a change of air.
A two days’ march brought the Battery to Cap Gris Nez, while the other
batteries were distributed along the small villages between Calais and
Boulogne. It was a real holiday for us, and a better part of the year
could not have been chosen. All that was expected of us was to exercise
the “hairies,” which we did by taking the guns a walk along the hard
sand in the early mornings.
A large field was secured, and for several hours daily the horses were
put out to grass, and, if ever animals showed signs of joy, they
certainly did, and their antics were most amusing to witness. It was
expected that some difficulty would be experienced in catching them
again, but, after the first day, a trumpet call was all that was
required. On hearing the sound, they would throw up their heads, and
then slowly wander towards the entrance, where the drivers awaited and
secured them.
The main feature of the day was, undoubtedly, the bathing parade,
enjoyed equally by man and beast. The horses knew at once what was in
store for them when they were led down to the beach. The men stripped,
and, mounting the eager horses, a wild dash was made for the water, and
quite a number of the animals proved themselves excellent swimmers,
many remaining a considerable time in deep water. On leaving the sea,
they would gallop along the sands, showing every sign of contentment,
and we were glad that, at last, they were receiving some reward for
their patient devotion and faithful service, for we were all fond of
our four-legged comrades.
Amusements were instituted for the men—all manner of sports by day and
concerts in the evenings. The officers lived out of doors, attracted by
the cliffs, from which Dover was visible on most clear days, and
everyone voted this peaceful place the next best thing to home leave.
It was, therefore, with much regret that, at the end of twelve days, we
retraced our steps to Arneke, where we were to remain for the latter
portion of the rest.
We had no sooner arrived at this place than the enemy started making
himself unpleasant in the southern portion of the Salient, and,
attacking the Canadians from Hooge as far as St. Eloi, succeeded in
driving them back some distance before he was finally held up. It was
quite imperative to retake the ground lost, as he had captured
important points of observation overlooking the Salient. A counter
attack was set on foot, and we were suddenly called upon to help in the
preliminary bombardment and cover the assaulting troops, which included
a Brigade of Guards. Just before setting off, our B.C. rejoined us once
more, and at two hours’ notice we made a beeline for the scene of our
future activity. At dusk we entered the ruins of Ypres, and, without
delay, proceeded to dig ourselves “in,” behind a convent, not far from
the south side of the Cloth Hall.
Owing to the number of extra batteries assembled for the operations, we
found ourselves without a billet until the genial Commander of a
Pioneer Battalion, affectionately known to the entire Dominion Forces
as “Big Jim,” and credited with innumerable deeds of “daring do,” took
pity upon us, and invited us to share his hearth and home. This offer
we gratefully accepted, and accommodation was also provided for the
detachment, and all were made most comfortable.
The bombardment continued for three days, and it became clear, from the
enemy’s counter preparations, that he was not going to give up his
newly acquired gains without a struggle. A most stubborn resistance was
offered, and the infantry were forced to fight hard for every foot of
ground that was eventually recovered. The bombardment grew in intensity
as the zero hour approached. Shortly after midnight, the men went over,
and, by breakfast time, had gained all that was required of them,
except at one or two points, which were taken without much trouble
later.
By the time affairs had settled down normally again, the Division was
due in the line, so the Battery pulled out for one night, before
transferring to our new zone, which was in the most northerly sector,
adjoining the one in which we had already been, and which had an even
worse reputation for unpleasantness.
After crossing the Yser Canal, the ground gradually rises towards
Pilkem Ridge, and the enemy was ensconced thereon in a kind of
stronghold known as the High Command Redoubt. Our trenches lay beneath
them, which gave us the feeling of being in a cup encircled round the
brim by our foes. During this particular tour, the Battery was split up
for the purpose of forming two forward sections, and the greater part
of the firing was done by the left section, whose position was well
inside the Salient. Its chief object was to harass a certain portion of
a hostile trench which was taken in enfilade by it! In order to
accomplish this successfully, the guns were placed in an old disused
position in a field, near La Brique, on the backward slope of a hill,
and the low gun-pits were completely covered with tufts of growing
grass. The centre pits were occupied by the two pieces and the outside
ones were speedily converted into habitations for the men.
When the trenches were not being subjected to hostile shelling, the
enemy devoted most of his time in endeavouring to destroy the numerous
O.P.’s dotted about here and there. These were constructed for the most
part of reinforced concrete, but the particular one used by us, called
“Frascatis,” had not yet been discovered, so we were free to carry out
shoots to our heart’s content.
A favourite diversion was sniping with one of our pieces, which was a
particularly accurate one, and several points of observation and
snipers’ posts were carefully registered. Then we would lie in wait,
observe some movement, and let fly one round only. This method
exasperated and annoyed the enemy exceedingly.
One of the enemy’s principal forms of amusement was to blow parts of
our front parapet away and train a machine gun on the space left
vacant, and snipe at any unsuspecting person who happened to pass
along. On many occasions we were able to bring assistance to the
harassed infantrymen, by spotting the offending snipers, and by, in
turn, sniping at them with our “How.” till we finally silenced them.
At dusk the enemy invariably harassed all roads of communication, and
dropped innumerable shells of large calibre into the stricken city; and
we made a habit of sitting at the entrance to the little shack, used as
the officers’ mess, smoking our evening pipes, interested spectators,
while the shells screamed overhead, and alighted somewhere in the town,
sending up columns of brick dust.
All the batteries in the line were now busy constructing new battery
positions, while fresh O.P.’s were also erected, and it was thought
that these preparations were preparatory to making an attack to enable
us to improve our position by the capture of Pilkem Ridge, but,
although the work was completed, nothing further developed.
Soon there were whispers of an impending gigantic attack away down in
the south, and for several days before the opening of it our shelling
was considerably increased, while the infantry made a series of raids.
This was done throughout the whole length of the front, in order to
keep the enemy from guessing the exact point of eruption, and we had a
warm time in consequence. For a long time after the battle had
commenced, we continued making demonstrations, which undoubtedly helped
to prevent the removal of many reserves from the locality.
But we were not content to remain here. There was a great scrap taking
place elsewhere, and were we going to be left completely out of it, to
eat our heads off, in Flanders? It seemed very unlikely that the
Division would not be called upon on such an occasion, and great was
the joy when one day orders came through that we were soon to proceed
to the scene of action. Within two days we pulled out to our old
resting place, where preparations were completed for our transference
to the battle area.
Our first acquaintance with the dreaded Salient was at an end, and,
although the time spent there was always strenuous and difficult, we
were not what could be called uncomfortable, and our casualties happily
did not exceed expectations.