Ypres Again.
In the middle of June the Division arrived in the neighbourhood of
Ypres, and at once took over from the Belgians from just below
Boesinghe northwards. We were thus back on familiar ground, as we had
occupied the next sector to the south in the previous year. Although we
were not actually in the Salient itself, we were situated at the
northern re-entrant to it. The Yser Canal constituted “No Man’s Land,”
the eastern bank of which was held by the enemy and the western by
ourselves.
The battery positions on this occasion were placed a considerable
distance behind, mainly around the village of Elverdinghe, as the enemy
had close observation and overlooked us from Pilkem Ridge. We did not
take long to discover that our opponents were well acquainted with the
situation of our new homes, for the majority of the batteries were
subjected at once to an avalanche of shells as soon as they opened fire
in order to register the guns. It became imperative for us to build
alternative positions or go elsewhere, while other sections moved
forward and undertook most of the firing. We had not been settled more
than a few days when the enemy suddenly conceived a violent attraction
for the house occupied by the officers’ mess, and, after several direct
hits had been made on it, we decided that the place was becoming too
hot, and searched round for a more suitable abode. We packed up, made a
hasty flight, and secured accommodation in a house which was
strengthened by concrete, but even there we had to be wary, especially
at night, for we were very close to a road fork, beloved by the enemy
gunners.
The majority of the O.P.’s were also obvious to the keen eyes of the
foe, who paid them much attention on every possible occasion, and it
was just as well for the occupants that they had been strongly
constructed with steel girders and concrete. On one occasion an
officer, doing a night O.P. duty, along with his telephonist, was
subjected to a full hour’s bombardment by two hostile batteries, which
fired salvoes regularly every minute. Next morning there was nothing
left of the house except the skeleton, with the O.P. structure standing
out defiant in bold relief in the midst of it.
These then were the conditions on this sector at the time of our taking
it over, and it will be seen that the enemy did more or less what he
chose, and was undoubtedly top dog as far as gunnery was concerned.
However, this was not to remain long so, as almost immediately
preparations were set on foot for the coming offensive, which had
already been decided upon.
A host of new O.P.’s were erected, new roads and light railways
constructed, while large working parties prepared fresh gun pits in
advanced positions, and all were carefully camouflaged where they were
exposed to enemy view. Every day new units arrived, and the country
appeared to be overrun with troops. Most of the forward work had to be
done during the night, and, as each position was completed, the guns
were silently concentrated. While this was in progress, the Divisional
Artillery only were maintained for the defence of the line, as it was
not advisable that the enemy should know until the last possible moment
that anything unusual was afoot. The scheme was a much more ambitious
one than that in which we had recently taken a part, and, if everything
went forward according to plan, it meant that we would be on the go for
a considerable time, and there even appeared to be a chance of getting
a taste of the long-talked-of open warfare.
About this time a most amusing episode was witnessed by one of our
Subalterns who was doing a liaison with the infantry at a battalion
headquarters. This place was situated most unpleasantly, and was well
known to the enemy, consequently accommodation had to be sought
underground as much as possible. While the F.O.O. and his companion,
the Intelligence Officer, were performing their ablutions early one
morning outside the mouth of the cellar, a Brigadier with his Staff
suddenly appeared on the scene to pay a visit to the Commander. The two
Staff Officers remained outside, and opened conversation with them. The
Intelligence Officer, being something of a wag, brandished his shaving
brush in one hand and with the other jocularly shoved the Staff Captain
down the steps into their retreat, and asked him what he thought of the
bedchamber. The other officer, although much amused, stood aghast, and,
after the visitors had departed, he asked his companion to whom he had
been speaking. He replied that he did not know, for, although the
Captain’s features appeared familiar, he could not “place” him, though
he was a jolly sort of chap anyhow. On being told that it was none
other than the Prince of Wales that he had been familiarly digging in
the ribs for the past quarter of an hour, he was incredulous, and
exclaimed, “And to think I nearly killed the youngster down these
stairs!”
At length preparations were completed, and the two Brigades of the
Divisional Artillery took up new advanced positions alongside the
reinforcing batteries already in line, while the heavies were thickly
aligned close in the rear. The preliminary bombardment broke out about
the middle of July, and at first it was keenly resented by the enemy,
who perceived that we were gradually wrestling the initiative from him,
but when, day after day, our fire continued unabated, he apparently
resigned himself to his fate. Hurricane shoots by field batteries soon
began to make a difference in the appearance of his trenches, and the
heavies, by means of aerial registration, demolished his strongholds
far back over the crest, and destroyed many of his battery positions.
Several thick woods were facing us across the canal, and these grew
thinner, and yet more thin, disclosing cunningly concealed pill-boxes,
which were then dealt with by the heavies, until at last only a few
stumps remained to indicate that a wood had ever existed there. The
enemy’s alarm grew daily, and soon our aeroplanes reported that the
hostile batteries were being withdrawn further out of danger, and that
work was proceeding feverishly upon new defences far behind his lines.
By this time we had complete control of the air, and the heavens were
alive with our aircraft, though the enemy tried his best to equalise
matters by bringing along his famous “travelling circus” to the scene
of action, and many thrilling fights were witnessed. The batteries were
subjected to much chemical shelling during the night, and the enemy
were known to bring forward special guns under cover of darkness for
this purpose, and to withdraw them out of range again before daybreak.
It was during this period that he introduced the new mustard gas for
the first time, and it must be admitted that he surprised and inflicted
considerable casualties on us at first by this latest specimen in his
assortment of poison.
Our initial attack had to be postponed for several days, as the French,
who came in immediately on our left, were delayed in putting in their
appearance, consequently they had many hours’ bombardment to make up,
but, when it did commence, it was no uncertain one, and the noise was
terrific. In the meantime our bombardment was continued also, though in
a lesser degree, and the destruction of the enemy’s lines was, as far
as we were able to judge, thorough and complete.
This delay proved a blessing in disguise to the Guards, who were to
deliver the assault on our sector. The problem of effecting a crossing
of the canal was a most serious and difficult one, and it had been
arranged to send the men over on floating mats, as a good deal of water
still remained in parts of the bed. In others so much mud and slime
were encountered, while carrying out a series of raids, that it was
almost impossible to cross without some such assistance, and it will be
readily understood that it was imperative to waste no time in this
manoeuvre, especially as the foe was awaiting them on the further bank.
Whether it was that the enemy could not maintain communications between
his front line and the rear, on account of our intense bombardment, or
whether, as has been suggested, he suspected a repetition of Messines,
and that we had mined underneath the canal bed, at all events three
days before the attack he evacuated the canal bank and retired just
over the crest of the hill some 800 yards beyond. This movement,
however, had not been carried out unperceived by our valiant airmen,
who, flying at a low altitude, returned and reported the situation.
Immediately strong patrols crossed the canal and pushed up the slope on
the other side, in order to remain in contact with the enemy and gauge
his whereabouts. A series of posts were thus established 500 to 600
yards east of the canal, and orders were given to hold them at all
costs, so that on the day of the battle our infantry could start off
from there without having any serious obstacle in their way. Many men
crossed the canal by means of hastily constructed foot bridges or
floating rafts made of biscuit and petrol tins ingeniously lashed
together.
On this occasion we will follow the fortunes of the F.O.O.’s detailed
to accompany the infantry on their journey over the top on the first
day of the battle. The party consisted of two officers and fourteen
signallers and linesmen from the Brigade, who, during the past
fortnight, had received full instructions as to their duties. Every
detail had been carefully worked out beforehand: the men had been
divided into several groups, each armed with telephones, reels of wire,
flags, and Lucas lamps, all these things being necessary for the
provision of each relay station. One of the officers was to accompany
the attacking waves of infantry with his staff, consisting of a
telephonist, linesman, and signaller, while the duty of the other was
to work in conjunction with him and to maintain, as far as possible,
uninterrupted communication with the Brigade after laying down the
wire. The morning before the battle, the wire was laid out over the
canal as far as the series of outposts, in order to save time on the
following day. The same evening, at sunset, the party set out, after
receiving wishes for the best of good luck from those who had been
fortunate enough to escape being detailed for this arduous task.
Officers and men proceeded to their appointed places in the front line,
or rather in what had once been an enemy support trench, though now it
was scarcely recognisable as such, owing to the effects of our
bombardment, there to remain for the night and await coming events.
Now, in consequence of the enemy’s premature retirement over the crest,
he lost most of his observation on us, but he was aware we had effected
a crossing and held posts on his side of the canal. He therefore
lavishly besprinkled this area with all manner of high explosive
shells—one here, one there: never two in the same place—and the members
of the party began to wonder whether they would survive to witness the
fortunes of the battle. It always appears to be a matter of conjecture
as to what are the real feelings of an F.O.O. about to take the plunge,
so perhaps it might be of interest in this case to acquaint ourselves
with them. As he lies out there with his men, where are his thoughts?
Are they of his home, his parents, wife, or children? Will he ever see
their dear faces again? No—! all that agony has been fought out over
and over again long ago, during the previous fortnight or so, since he
has been detailed for this particular job. Then, what does he think
about? If the truth be told, he is rapidly running over in his mind all
the little things which may perhaps, at the last moment, have been
omitted or forgotten. He questions Gunner “So-and-so” to make certain
that that extra piece of wire has been brought along, and asks what the
h—l Gunner “Somebody else” is doing standing there without a “tin-hat”
on, and enquires of the Bombardier if he has adjusted the Lucas lamp
properly, which has been giving some trouble previously. These and a
hundred-and-one other such questions flash through his brain as he lies
on the ground with his little party, all vigorously puffing pipes or
cigarettes. The hours go by very slowly, and conversation on any old
topic is attempted from time to time, sleep being entirely out of the
question, as everyone is much too excited for anything of that nature.
Meanwhile the bombardment continues without intermission, and the night
becomes intensely cold and eerie. Will the darkness never pass and let
us get started on the job?
Soon after midnight the infantry, who are to make the assault, arrive
at their places of assembly, full of quips and jests, a sure sign that
they are cheery and in good form for the coming fray. Rum is served
out, and the men lie down in little bunches, either to snatch a few
minutes’ sleep or else to resume their constant arguments and
bickerings on every subject under the sun except anything connected
with the war. Zero hour at last draws near, and everyone grows more
restless, for this period is much the most trying time to endure, and
all topics of conversation have long since been exhausted. Then a
short, sharp order passes down the line, and the answering shouts
announce that all are present and ready—the “quarter to zero” has
arrived. Another crisp order comes along, and there are a series of
ominous clicks as each man adjusts his bayonet to the rifle, then the
men line up in perfect extended order, ready for the word to go. A
faint grey appears in the sky to the east, but only the next man is
visible to his neighbour, as the darkness is still upon us. The
F.O.O.’s and party are also up and ready, final instructions being
rapidly given to the signallers, who nod assent that everything is
prepared and understood. Then suddenly the guns bark out afresh, and a
creeping barrage drops down like a curtain in front of the men, who
follow after it at an easy walk. Fortune attends the little party, as
the wire has only been cut in three places, and these are speedily
repaired; and, as soon as the second wave of men is clear of the
trench, the line is laid out as rapidly as possible behind them. The
ground is difficult to traverse, being full of deep craters, so the
party progresses more slowly than the infantry, and presently the third
wave gains on and passes it by. At first the enemy puts down a nasty
barrage, just beyond our stepping-off place, but most of his heavy
stuff falls on the canal bank, and, as the majority of the troops have
already crossed, the damage is not severe. By this time the party has
gained the top of the crest, and, after establishing a relay station in
a pill-box lately occupied by their opponents, the remainder proceed on
their way. Many are the temptations to dawdle, instead of getting on
with the work, so much of interest is taking place around them,
including the amusing, and at that time not too frequent, sight of
scores of the enemy, with uplifted hands, emerging from pill boxes,
where they must have been packed like sardines.
An auxiliary wire tapped into the main F.O.O. line is led to another
pill-box, now to be used as a new infantry headquarters for the time
being, and the party comes under the fire of a hostile machine gun
emplacement, which necessitates their lying in a shell-hole for a
while. On arrival there, the “mopping up” party is found still at work,
but it soon completes its grim task. The officer who has proceeded with
the infantry now sends his first message through to the effect that the
first objectives are taken, the wire fortunately holding out well at
the moment, every sound being clear and distinct. The Lucas lamp is
then fixed on top of the relay station, and communications established
in case the wire goes, but the morning dawns in mist, and signalling by
this method is unsatisfactory.
After a short pause, the infantry proceed on the second stage of their
adventure, the F.O.O. and party following up and laying out wire close
behind them. More messages are sent through to Brigade, and the wire
breaks on several occasions, but is speedily dealt with by the
linesmen, who are kept busy patrolling up and down the line. Meanwhile,
items of extreme interest are taking place around the pill-pox of the
Central Relay Station. Numerous batches of prisoners are drifting back,
for the most part unattended, composed entirely of youths of nineteen
and twenty years of age, the Guards having refused to kill these
babies, only “despatching” the older men, for the Division up against
them was very mixed, and may best be described as a “dud” lot, and it
did not put up much of a fight. The lads all look weary and
mud-stained, although there is an expression of relief on their faces,
as they steadily munch the bread that has been good-naturedly handed to
them by their captors, for they have been starving for the past three
days or so, no food having reached them on account of the terrific
bombardment. An aid-post is hastily placed in a huge shell-hole close
by, and the wounded straggle back; those who are but slightly hit and
can walk help each other along, while the others are carried on
stretchers. Here, a man, ghastly wounded, minus one leg and with the
other almost severed, lies on a stretcher, calmly puffing at a
cigarette given him by the bearers, and attempts to raise himself on
his elbow that he may gaze at the curious scenes taking place around
him. Others just stagger along, their pinched faces showing signs of
suppressed pain, yet all have a quip or a jest on their lips as they
smoke the inevitable cigarette. The sight is truly a wonderful one! The
courage and calm that these wounded display in the midst of their
sufferings is beyond words, but they are “Greatheart’s all.”
Reinforcements are passing all this time on their way up to the battle
line, ready to throw themselves into the conflict when their time
arrives.
Again the infantry move forward to the third and final objective, under
cover of the friendly barrage, and, by the time they arrive at their
allotted destination, an advance of some three miles from the canal
bank has been effected since morning. The wire is linked up, and the
F.O.O. selects a good point of vantage, and makes himself and his staff
as comfortable as possible, and then proceeds to gather as much
information as he can obtain to send back over the line. The infantry
are now busy digging themselves in, and are being subjected to heavy
shell-fire, but they stubbornly resist all efforts to dislodge them. By
this time the batteries have all limbered up and advanced to new
positions, mostly out in the open, and an order comes over the
telephone from the B.C.’s for the F.O.O. to register the guns afresh:
so he at once picks up some dependable landmark, and with much
difficulty observes the rounds as they fall, and thus gives the
necessary corrections.
Then the wires break on account of the shelling, and some time is lost
before communications are again established. The enemy has now
recovered somewhat from the initial shock of the attack, and displays
much determination to recover lost ground—counter attacks are launched
without success. The F.O.O. now has an important message to convey,
but, when the telephonist endeavours to send it through, there is no
answering buzz. Thereupon the linesman is despatched as a runner, and,
on reaching the first relay station, he transfers the written message
to another linesman, who immediately sets out for the next relief, and
so on, until the message duly arrives at headquarters.
Thus the day wears on: sometimes direct communication is possible, and
at others the wire is “dished,” but, on the whole, a good deal of
information is passed through. The relay posts are constantly shelled,
and the bombardier in charge is wounded, while one runner was killed in
his gallant endeavour to pass through a heavy barrage with an important
communication. In the evening the party, much exhausted with the
strenuous and never ending work of the day, is relieved by a fresh
group of officers and signallers, who take over from them, and the
little party wind their way homewards profoundly thankful to find
themselves back with their unit safe and sound.
The situation, at the end of the opening day of the battle, was roughly
this:—In the north all had gone well, and most of the objectives aimed
at were successfully taken, but, such stiff resistance was met with
further south, that the assaulting troops were held up after they had
gained only about half of those allotted to them, and, although they
fought stubbornly and determinedly, they were unable to make further
ground. Thus the left wing was forced to mark time while the troops on
the right made a series of attacks in order to straighten out the line,
otherwise the army to the north would have found itself enclosed in a
nasty salient. The artillery, over the whole battle front, also
encountered great difficulty in advancing the guns, the ground was so
ploughed up by the effects of the long preliminary bombardment. Even
the horse gunners, who were detailed to move up in immediate support of
the infantry, were unable to proceed further than a few hundred yards
on the other side of the canal. Huge craters, placed lip to lip, met
them in all directions, and an advance was found to be out of the
question till new tracks were prepared and the road cleared of debris.
This naturally took some time to accomplish, and, meanwhile, all the
field batteries were advanced as close to the canal bank as possible,
but even then they were much too far behind, and were firing at almost
extreme range.
No serious attack could be delivered, therefore, for some ten days,
until sufficient time had elapsed to enable the gunners to occupy new
positions some way across the canal, and, on this occasion, Langemarke
fell into our hands, as well as the line of the Broombeke. Progress
remained slow further south, consequently our front became stationary.
Now, it so happened that most of our batteries were in extremely
awkward positions, as we had expected to be moved forward at any time.
They were right out in the open, devoid of any cover, and, for the most
part, placed in shell holes which had been hastily converted into pits.
Here we were subjected to the most “gruelling” time that was ever our
lot to endure, and the battle developed into a gigantic duel between
batteries, in which our position was no worse than the others. We lived
in shell holes, scantily covered with corrugated iron and a layer or
two of sand-bags, scarcely splinter proof, nor had we any means of
making ourselves more secure. The enemy’s heavy counter batteries swept
and searched over the slope where the majority of our batteries were
congregated, and never before or after were they seen to reach such a
pitch of efficiency.
Never a day passed without casualties, and often a number of gunners
were buried as the result of an explosion, and had to be hastily dug
out, and early on we lost one of our subaltern officers, who was borne
away to the dressing station with no less than a dozen wounds on him.
It was with great difficulty that the battery was kept in action
sometimes, and, though we soon shifted our position to a flank, this
did not relieve the situation. A 60 pdr. battery not far behind us
developed the fatal habit of becoming particularly active during “flash
time,” and, as its flash was notoriously conspicuous, it was not
surprising that its location was promptly pin-pointed by the enemy, who
proceeded to knock it out: and this they succeeded in doing without
much delay. During this particular contest we always got the short
rounds, and, as they were not peas that were coming over, but 8″ and
11″ shells, the atmosphere was unpleasant, to say the least of it!
We considered ourselves lucky if we could keep 50 per cent. of the guns
in action at the same time, while every nerve was strained to dig out
the remainder, and it was a very heartless job, as a gun had no sooner
been recovered and set up in position than it was knocked out again
almost immediately. One morning, after a wild night of shelling by the
enemy, on going to ascertain the damage, we found one gun with its
barrel buried deep in the ground, the trail standing perpendicular
pointing towards the sky; another completely turned over on its back
pointing in the opposite direction, while a third had been blown right
out of the shell hole in which it had been placed, and hurled a
considerable distance away. Casualties to our establishment mounted at
a most alarming rate, and one night our B.C. was mortally wounded by a
high explosive shell, and, although such assistance as it was possible
to give was rendered, he did not survive long after reaching the
casually clearing station. His loss was much felt, not only by reason
of his own cheerful personality, but also on account of the way in
which he inspired all those under him to do their utmost, especially in
times of stress and danger, when he always proved himself a true
leader. The Captain now succeeded to the command of the battery, and
the Senior Subaltern became second-in-command. It soon became evident
that we could not carry on much longer under these conditions, and in
the last week of September we were pulled out to refit, and remained
near the village of Herszeele for a few days before again entering the
fray.
Meanwhile a subaltern with a working party was busily occupied
preparing new emplacements for our reception, and on the day of their
completion he was wounded while riding his bicycle back to his billet:
thus we lost yet another officer. But, try as we would, it was
impossible to escape the vigilant eye of the enemy, who engaged battery
positions one after another, and the number of guns knocked out was
prodigious. Through a lucky chance it had been decided to take the guns
“in” at dawn, instead of during the night, and by reason of this we
escaped a most violent hostile bombardment which was directed against
the position, and which damaged at least two of the pits and completely
destroyed several dug-outs which the work party had recently striven so
hard to build. We set to work and repaired most of the damage, and,
whether or not it was the enemy thought he had disposed of us thereby,
at all events he did not repeat the performance beyond subjecting us to
the ordinary night harassing fire.
Another attack was impending, which again necessitated the forward
movement of all batteries, and this time we were more fortunate in the
selection of a site, and had several German pill-boxes in which to live
and take refuge. Owing to the congestion on the one and only good road
in the neighbourhood and the hostile shelling thereof, it was a matter
of luck to find ourselves safely installed behind Abri Wood, and we
immediately set out preparing for the new fight. Unfortunately, the
weather again came to the assistance of our foe, and a spell of rain
and wind made conditions extremely difficult for both infantry and
gunners. However, the battle was proceeded with, and the result was an
advance over the mud and slime of the river Broombeke as far as the
outskirts of Houthoulst Forest, a distance of about two miles; our
French allies, on the left, keeping in step with us throughout this
operation. Then the inevitable forward move of the batteries was
resumed, and this time we occupied positions down the further slope of
the hill immediately across the rivulet of the Steenbeke. In
consequence of torrents of rain, which continued daily, the low-lying
ground became flooded, and it was all we could do to prevent the guns
sinking in the sodden earth, and they frequently disappeared in the mud
up to their axles. Dry accommodation was nowhere to be found except in
a great pill-box, which we added to and strengthened, and it was
popularly called the “Rabbit Hutch,” for the obvious reason that it
held the majority of the four batteries of the Brigade.
Now, our last attack had advanced us considerably further than the men
on the right, who throughout the past month had encountered very stiff
opposition, so we had perforce to remain stationary and mark time,
while the battle continued to the south. On several occasions we
rendered assistance by putting up what is commonly known as a “Chinese
barrage,” _i.e._, the artillery carries out the ordinary programme
preceding an attack, but no action follows on the part of the infantry.
Conditions were equally disagreeable at the wagon lines, which speedily
developed into quagmires, and it was almost impossible to walk about
the lines unless attired in waders, and, even then, there was always
the possibility of completely disappearing in the mud. Over and above
that, the wagon lines were subjected every now and then to the
attentions of a high velocity gun, as well as frequent visits from
hostile night bombing machines, which were following the example set by
our airmen and were endeavouring to pay us back in our own coin. Much
damage was done in and around the neighbourhood, but our lines escaped
exceedingly lightly. The question of ammunition supply became acute,
and the use of pack saddles was again necessitated, and, because of the
great distance between wagon lines and gun position, the round journey
sometimes took eighteen hours to accomplish, and naturally the strain
eventually told greatly upon both men and horses.
The battery positions were not long in being located by the enemy, who
expended great quantities of ammunition in his attempts to destroy
them: and he made much use of chemical and mustard shell, which in time
saturated the low-lying ground on which the guns were placed. In this
way he effectively gassed the B.C., a subaltern, and several of the
men, who were all despatched to the wagon line, and the Captain assumed
command for the time being and brought up reliefs with him. By this
time the Battery was again in a very bad way, and a rest was promised
on several occasions, only to be held up time and again with the
exhortation to hold out yet a little while longer. Winter was rapidly
approaching, and it was necessary to adjust our line before fighting
came to a standstill: and a considerable distance had yet to be
traversed before the goal—Passchendaele and the ridge on which it was
situated—could be reached.
The battery, meanwhile, waited on in patience. All the remaining
officers were affected by the mustard gas, as well as the majority of
the gunners, and a sorry sight we presented when, in the first week in
November, an incoming battery took over from us. We then proceeded to
the new wagon lines, near Proven, in an utterly exhausted condition.