The Turn of the Tide.
It invariably happened, when the Brigade came out for a period of rest,
that expectations of a real holiday were never fully realized, and
although the time passed pleasantly enough and we were favoured with
fine weather, all ranks were kept pretty busy. Many tactical schemes
were practised, and we had always to hold ourselves in readiness to
render assistance, at short notice, to the troops who were in the line,
for our Command was taking no risks and had not entirely given up the
possibility of a hostile attack on this area.
It must be admitted, however, that in the end everybody enjoyed
rehearsing these schemes, and we would have been well acquainted with
our duties had the emergency arisen. Our resentment, also, at being
called upon to partake of violent exercise so early in the morning,
completely disappeared after a while, the country looked so beautiful
at dawn, and we usually returned in time for breakfast, with
well-whetted appetites, after some three or four hours in the saddle.
Unfortunately, at this time, the scourge known as “Flanders Grippe,”
which had been prevalent throughout the Army, developed in our Brigade.
For a considerable time this epidemic paralysed us, more or less, as
about half our number was down with the disease at the same time.
Although it passes after taking its three days’ course, one is left
very weak and groggy for some time, and several of the men were very
seriously ill.
Inevitable inspections by Corps Commanders and minor officials passed
off without incident, but, of course, much labour and “eye-wash” was
expended as is always the case on these occasions. The Divisional Horse
Show, held towards the end of our rest, was undoubtedly the principal
diversion of our time out, as each unit naturally did its utmost to
outshine all others. The battery entered a gun team complete,
consisting of six dapple-grey horses, and we succeeded in securing the
second prize in the gunner’s Derby. Curiously enough, the winners, our
sister howitzer battery, won with five, out of six horses which had
been shown, over two years previously at Zeggers Capelle, in Flanders,
and who then carried off second prize in the competition with a team of
blacks. H.R.H. The Duke of Connaught afterwards inspected the
prize-winners, and evinced much interest on being told that ours was a
complete battery of grey horses.
Paris leave opened for both officers and men as a consolation for home
furlough being stopped, and many availed themselves of the opportunity
of having a few days’ enjoyment in the “Gay City.”
In the first days of June the Division returned to the line and
occupied the sector we had already been in prior to moving to Adinfer.
The area had become very quiet with one or two exceptions, and the
enemy did not subject our infantry to much shelling, and contented
himself with occasionally annoying them with trench mortars. But if, at
any time, he discovered the location of a battery position, that unit
had a most unhappy time. Four of our guns were placed in the railway
cutting, where we had previously had a forward section, and the
remainder were again detached some distance away. Mine shafts, which
were already in existence, were enlarged and the men had plenty cover
on top of them.
Some little time afterwards certain indications pointed to the fact
that the enemy contemplated business once more on this front, and as
our guns were situated awkwardly where it would be impossible to
withdraw them quickly, we were directed to construct a new position
further behind. The work proceeded briskly, and, when completed, four
of the pieces were withdrawn and placed there, the other two remaining
in the railway embankment. The main position was a long way back, and
the guns could only just reach the enemy support trenches, consequently
they were only to be fired in case of a general S.O.S., and all the
shoots were accomplished by the forward section. Much time was spent in
making our new quarters shipshape, and the ground was well suited for
mining, as it consisted principally of chalk, and eventually all ranks
were comfortably installed in spacious underground quarters, although,
at the moment, they were quite unnecessary, and many lay out in the
open during the warm summer nights. The principal thing to do now was
to make sure that the officers and men did not stagnate for lack of
occupation and to find means to keep them hard and fit. Physical
exercises were indulged in during the morning, and sports of all kinds
were organised, both at the battery positions and at the wagon
lines—the latter having taken up their quarters at the village of
Baillemont.
A modified kind of base-ball, introduced by an energetic and
enthusiastic Canadian subaltern, became very popular with the men,
while the corps ran a polo-club of sorts for the officers. A fairly
level patch of ground was selected which possessed a certain amount of
grass, and the numerous shell holes were filled in and levelled off by
fatigue parties, with the result that it became moderately good. The
polo ponies, however, left something to be desired, and it was no
uncommon sight to see a young officer appear mounted on a stalwart
wheeler, the best he could do for himself from among the horses in his
section. Possibly the explanation was that he had found a horse which
he could suitably “rein in”.
Meanwhile the enemy’s third big offensive had come and gone and the
British Commander-in-Chief’s famous “back to the wall” order of the day
to his armies. Still we waited, but nothing unusual happened; then in
the middle of July the French were heavily attacked, and once more the
clouds appeared on the horizon. There was great enthusiasm when it
became known that our Allies had counter-attacked, and were driving the
enemy out of the Marne pocket, and when the daily bulletins arrived
there was always a scramble among the men to read them. Then the
British stroke fell south of the river Somme at Villers Brettonneux,
and excellent news, as to our progress, came through, which raised
everyone’s hopes to a high degree. Our artillery fire was increased
daily, and affairs became more lively, while flying was in full swing
and continued night and day. Both sides paid much attention to bombing,
and our Airmen freely besprinkled enemy territory with their bombs by
day, whereas the foe rarely attempted raids over our lines during
daylight. However, after dusk, the air was filled with the planes, as
the weather was particularly favourable, and the hum of the machines
coming and going was incessant throughout the whole night. At times one
could scarcely get any sleep for the continual drone they made, like
the hum of gigantic bees around their hives. One thing certain was that
we had almost complete control of the air and both out-numbered and
out-witted the enemy to a marked extent. It was most unpleasant to hear
the noise of the hostile planes drawing nearer, for one could not
mistake the beat made by the German machines. The amount of bombing
experienced by us was quite bad enough in all truth, but we used to
smile when contemplating what our foes must be suffering at the hands
of our Airmen, as truly it was ten times worse.
During this period the two counter offensives were progressing
favourably in the south, and we suspected that something would be doing
on our front before long, as the din of battle was creeping further
north. It came as no surprise, therefore, when serious fighting
commenced north of the Somme, and the enemy retreated from Serre and
later withdrew in error from Ablainzevelle. As soon as he discovered
his mistake he attempted to retake it, but, by that time, our men were
firmly lodged there and could not be shifted from the village.
In the middle of August, to everyone’s satisfaction, it became known
that we were to be up and doing at no distant date, and preparations
were immediately and silently set on foot. Throughout each night a
continual stream of teams and wagons conveyed thousands of rounds of
ammunition up the line to battery positions, and fresh dumps were
placed in forward localities. New battle positions were constructed in
advanced positions and stocked with shells, and we only awaited the
order to occupy them. Instructions were issued to wagon lines that all
surplus kit and stores were to be left behind, as a strenuous time was
in store for us, and all ranks responded with a will to the hard work
these preparations necessitated. Drivers were elated at the prospect of
a change from their humdrum existence, and their enthusiasm knew no
bounds. New reinforcing batteries appeared like mushrooms during the
night, and lay safely ensconced in their appointed places in readiness
for the coming fray, while the neighbourhood behind the lines bristled
with activity and also with new arrivals. We believed that probably
these preparations were being made in order to take the Henin Ridge in
front, and no one imagined that the coming operations would consist of
more than a local attack with a limited objective, as little or no
information had been given to anyone. It is true that rumours were
abroad, that our opponents were preparing to withdraw during the coming
winter to their defences in the Hindenburg Line, which meant that we
would be left most uncomfortably situated in the wilderness throughout
that season. Little did we dream, however, that this was the
commencement of a long series of hammer blows, lasting over several
months, and employing millions of men, and destined to be the last and
greatest battle the world has ever seen, ending with the complete
demoralisation of the enemy’s forces. The turn of the tide was at hand
at last!