THE SMASHING OF THE DROCOURT-QUEANT LINE.
_September 2nd, 1918._
On Saturday, August 31st, I paid a visit to our Battle Headquarters,
and the General asked me to have a Celebration of the Holy Communion
there the next morning at eight. I knew that the attack was almost
due, so I prepared for it and took my iron rations with me. We had the
Communion Service in a tent at the General's Headquarters. There were
only three present, but the General was one of them. I had breakfast
in a quaint little hut in the side of the trench, and then started off
to the forward area. The great stretch of country was burnt dry by the
summer heat and the roads were broken up and dusty. I was taken by car
to the Headquarters of the 2nd Brigade which were in a trench, and
from thence I started on foot to Cherisy. Here the 8th Battalion were
quartered, the 5th being in the line. Zero hour, I was told, was early
the next morning. The 2nd and 3rd Brigades were to make the attack.
The 5th Battalion was to have advanced that day and taken possession
of a certain trench which was to be the jumping off line on the
following morning. I heard that they had had a hard time. They had
driven out the Germans, but had been seriously counter-attacked and
had lost a large number of men. I determined therefore to go out and
take them some cigarettes and biscuits which the Y.M.C.A. generously
provided. I started off in the afternoon to go to the front line,
wherever it might be. I went down the road from Cherisy past the
chalk-pit, where we had a little cemetery, and then turning into the
fields on the left walked in the direction in which I was told the 5th
Battalion lay. It was a long, hot journey, and as I had not quite
recovered from my attack of influenza I found it very fatiguing. On
all sides I saw gruesome traces of the recent fighting. I came across
the body of a young artillery officer of the 2nd Division, but, as all
his papers had been taken away, I could not discover his name. My way
passed through the remains of what had been an enemy camp. There were
a number of well-built huts there, containing much German war-material,
but they had been damaged by our shells. The Germans had (p. 293)
evidently been obliged to get out of the place as quickly as possible.
I was just leaving the camp when I met several of our men bringing up
a number of prisoners. While we were talking, some shells fell, and we
all had to dive into two trenches. The Huns took one; we Canadians
took the other. We had no desire, in case a shell landed in our midst
to have our bits mingled with those of the Germans. When the
"straffing" was over, the others went back, and I continued my way to
the front. It must have been about six or seven o'clock when I arrived
at the 5th Battalion Headquarters, which were in a deep German dugout.
The Colonel was absent at a conference, so the Adjutant was in
command. I told him that I had come provided with cigarettes and other
comforts for the men, and asked him to give me a runner to take me to
the front line. He absolutely refused to do anything of the kind, as
he told me he did not know where it was himself. The situation was
most obscure. Our men had attacked and had been driven back and then
they had attacked again, but he thought they were now in shell holes
and would be hard to find. In fact, he was most anxious about the
condition of affairs and was hoping the Colonel would soon return. I
asked him if he would like me to spend the night there. He said he
would, so I determined to settle down and wait for an opportunity of
getting up to the men.
I went over to a trench a little way off, passing two dead Germans as
I did so, and saw the little white flag with the red cross on it which
showed that a dugout there was used as the regimental aid post. I went
down into the place, which had two openings, and found the M.O. and
his staff and a number of machine-gunners. Being Sunday, I told them
that I would have service for them. We all sat on the floor of the
long dugout. Two or three candles gave us all the light we had, and
the cigarettes which I had brought with me were soon turned into
smoke. In the meantime a young stretcher-bearer, unknown to me, made a
cup of tea and brought that and some buttered toast for my supper.
When I had finished and we were just going to begin the service, a
voice suddenly shouted down the steps in excited tones. "We've all got
to retreat; the Germans are coming." At once a corporal shouted up to
him, "Shut up, none of that talk out here." Of course, I had not said
a word to any of the men about the condition of our front line, but
remembering what the Adjutant had told me about it, I thought now that
there might be some reason for the alarm. As I have said on a former
occasion, I had a great objection to being bombed in a dugout, so (p. 294)
I said to the men, "Well, boys, perhaps we had better take it seriously
and go up and see what the matter is." We climbed up to the trench,
and there on looking over the parapet we saw an exciting scene. It was
not yet dark, and in the twilight we could see objects at a certain
distance, but it was just light enough and dark enough to confuse
one's vision. Along the line to the right of our front trenches,
rockets and S.O.S. signals were going up, showing that the Germans
were attacking. Our reserve battalions were far back at Cherisy, and
our artillery had not yet come up. At any rate, somewhere in the
glimmering darkness in front of us the Germans were advancing. They
actually did get between us and our front line. The machine-gunners at
once went to their posts, and the M.O. wanted orders as to what he and
his staff were to do. I went back down the trenches past the dead
Germans to Battalion Headquarters, and asked the Adjutant what orders
he had for the M.O. He said we were all to congregate at Headquarters;
so I went back and gave the message. I remember looking over the waste
of ground and wondering if I could see the Germans. For a time it was
really very exciting, especially for me, because I did not know
exactly what I should do if the Germans came. I could not fight, nor
could I run away, and to fold one's arms and be taken captive seemed
too idiotic. All the time I kept saying to myself, "I am an old fool
to be out here." Still, we got as much fun out of the situation as we
could, and, to our intense relief, the arrival of some of our shells
and the sudden appearance of a Highland Battalion of the 4th Division
on our left, frightened the Germans and they retired, leaving us to
settle down once more in our trench home.
On the return of the Colonel, we learned that, on account of the heavy
losses which the 5th Battalion had suffered that day, the 7th Battalion
would attack on the following morning. Later on in the evening, I saw
some machine-gunners coming up, who told us that they had left some
wounded and a dead man in a trench near the road. I determined to go
back and see them. The trench was very crowded, and as it was dark it
was hard to find one's way. I nearly stepped on a man who appeared to
be sleeping, leaning against the parapet. I said to one of the men,
"Is this a sleeping hero?" "No, Sir," he replied, "It's a Hun stiff."
When I got down to the road, I met two men and we hunted for the place
where the wounded had been left, but found they had been carried (p. 295)
off to Cherisy. So I started back again for Battalion Headquarters,
and as numbers of men were going forward I had no difficulty in
finding it.
The dugout was now absolutely crowded. Every available space,
including the steps down from the opening, was filled with men. I
managed to secure a little shelf in the small hours of the morning,
and had two or three hours sleep. The atmosphere was so thick that I
think we were all overcome by it and sank into profound slumber. At
last, one of the men suddenly woke up and said to me, "It's ten
minutes to five, Sir." The barrage was going to start at five. As far
as I could see, everyone in the dugout but ourselves, was sound
asleep. I climbed up the steps, waking the men on them and telling
them that the barrage would start in ten minutes. The sentries in the
trench said that the 7th Battalion had gone forward during the night
with a number of 4th Division men. The morning air was sweet and fresh
after that of the dugout, but was rather chilly. A beautiful dawn was
beginning, and only a few of the larger stars were visible. The
constellation of Orion could be seen distinctly against the grey-blue
of the sky. At five o'clock the barrage started, and there was the
usual glorious roar of the opening attack. Very quickly the Germans
replied, and shells fell so unpleasantly near, that once again we
crowded into the dugout. After a hasty breakfast of bacon and tea the
battalions moved off, and I made my way to the front. I saw an officer
of the 7th Battalion being carried to the M.O.'s dugout. He was not
badly hit, and told me he was just back from leave and had been
married only a fortnight ago. I shook hands with him and congratulated
him on being able to get back to Blighty and have a wife to look after
him. He was being carried by some Germans and had two of our bearers
with him. I went down into a communication trench and the next instant
a shell burst. I did not know then that anybody had been hit by it,
but I learned afterwards that the officer, the stretcher-bearers and
the Germans had all been killed.
I made my way to a mud road, where to my infinite delight I saw large
numbers of German prisoners being marched back. By the corner of a
wood the 8th Battalion were waiting their turn to advance. To the left
was the hill called The Crow's Nest, which our 3rd Brigade had taken
that day. I crossed the Hendecourt-Dury road, which had trees on (p. 296)
both sides of it, and then meeting the 2nd Battalion went forward with
them. There were some deep trenches and dugouts on the way, which our
units at once appropriated and which became the headquarters of two of
our Brigades. Our artillery had also come up and their chaplain was with
them. The C.O. of the 7th Battalion was having breakfast in the corner of
a field, and feeling very happy over the result of the morning's work.
Far off we could see the wood of Cagnicourt, and beyond that in the
distance we could see other woods. I went off in the direction of
Cagnicourt and came to some German huts, where there was a collection
of military supplies. Among them was a large anti-tank rifle. As it
had begun to rain, I was very glad to find some German water proof
sheets which I put over my shoulders as I was eating my bully-beef.
Cagnicourt lay in a valley to the right and, when I got there, I found
a battery of artillery had just arrived and were taking up their
positions by a road which led on to Villers-Cagnicourt. We were all in
high spirits over our fresh achievement. In some dugouts on the way, I
found the headquarters of the 13th and 14th Battalions, and learned of
the very gallant deed of the Rev. E. E. Graham, the Methodist chaplain
attached to the 13th Battalion. He had carried out, under the barrage,
five wounded men of the 2nd Division, who had been left in No Man's
Land. He was recommended for the Victoria Cross, but unfortunately,
for some reason or other, only got the D.S.O. In a trench near
Villers-Cagnicourt I found the 4th Battalion, who told me that they
thought our advance was checked. I sat talking to them for some time,
but was so tired that I absolutely could not keep awake. The men were
much amused to see me falling asleep in the midst of a conversation. I
managed, however, to pull myself together, and went over to the main
Cherisy road, on the side of which one of our ambulances had taken up
its position and was being attended by one of our military chaplains.
I was feeling so seedy by this time that I got a seat by the side of
the driver on a horse ambulance, and made my way back to Cherisy. The
road was narrow and crowded with traffic, and had been broken in
places by shells. Quite a number of bodies were lying by the wayside.
I arrived back at my billet in Arras in the evening feeling very
tired. At the Corps dressing station that night I saw large numbers of
our men brought in, among them the C.O. of the 2nd Battalion, who had
especially distinguished himself that day, but was very badly
wounded.
In spite of the fact that we had not been able to go as far as we (p. 297)
had intended, another glorious victory was to our credit, and we had
broken the far-famed Drocourt-Queant line with its wire entanglements
which the Germans had thought to be impregnable. Two days afterwards,
on September 4th, our Division was taken out of the line and sent back
for rest and reorganization.