We need not follow this fighting further. During the night of November

28th/29th, the 62nd Division was relieved by the 47th. It moved back to

Havrincourt for the night, and marched next day into the reserve area

at Bertincourt and Lebucquière. Thenceforward, until the battle was

broken off, except for intermittent shelling, the 62nd Division took no

further active part in the operations. They had done extraordinarily

well, and the fine fighting of the 187th Infantry Brigade in Bourlon

Wood on November 27th stands out in the record of brilliance achieved

by the 62nd Division during this week at Cambrai. We know what happened

immediately afterwards: how the fighting odds proved too tremendous,

and the great offensive ended with a retirement on December 4th to the

7th, back from Bourlon, back from Fontaine, back from Mesnières and the

Bonavis Ridge, to points corresponding approximately to the line held

on November 20th, with certain gains in the regions of Flesquières and

Havrincourt, though a little closer to Gouzeaucourt in the South. It

would be idle to minimize the disappointment at this result, especially

when it was realized at home. In the larger issues of the war, the Battle

of Cambrai takes a smaller place than it occupies in the records of the

troops which took part in the fighting. A victory had been gained by

those troops which could not be turned to defeat, though the advance was

turned to a retirement. As a battle, it had been lost; as an experiment,

it had succeeded, though the measure of the success was laid up in the

future. But the troops were competent to measure it. Their military

sense, developed by a year’s continuous campaigning, seized the broad

issues of the experiment, and all ranks of the 62nd Division were filled

with a just sense of elation. Their allotted task had been performed with

what Field-Marshal Lord Haig, in his foreword to this volume, describes

as ‘outstanding brilliance,’ and a consciousness of this performance,

however modestly concealed, was present to the minds of all who survived

the battle.

[Illustration]

The casualties had been severe. In the first phase (November 20th

to 23rd), they amounted to 75 Officers and 1,613 other Ranks; in the

second phase (November 25th to 28th), to 79 Officers and 1,565 other

Ranks.[97] The honours had been not few[98]; but, apart from the measure

of achievement which casualty and honours lists supply, we take count of

the enhanced spirit of the Division, which, though it had ‘found itself’

before, may be said to have vindicated at Cambrai its title to a place in

the front rank. The Divisional Pelican, as we see, was still waiting to

put down his foot, but by fine team-work and fine individual work, the

Division had proved its merit as a fighting force, and had won the rare

praise of the Field-Marshal and the grateful thanks of the Divisional

Commander. Viewed, too, in relation to earlier actions, the Cambrai

battle, whatever its issue, is to be claimed as a conspicuous success. It

first proved the efficacy of Tanks, and their power of timed co-operation

with the Artillery and Infantry arms; it first proved the value of

secrecy as an essential factor of victory; and the lessons learned at

Cambrai incomparably modified the memory of past work at Bullecourt and

Thiepval.

BOOK III

WAR’S END

CHAPTER XI

FATEFUL DAYS IN 1918

All accounts agree that the close of 1917 found the Allies very

unfavourably situated. The balance seemed to be shifted against them; and

the contrast, in retrospect, is striking between the natural elation of

the troops who had taken part in the push at Cambrai, and had put to a

practical test the three-in-one new factors of success—Tanks, secrecy and

speed—and the equally natural depression of public opinion at home, and

even at the front, wherever the chances of the campaign were accurately

weighed. The mere strategic satisfaction at having relieved the pressure

on Italy, or, at least, at having kept it short of full strength, by

tactical operations in France, afforded inadequate compensation for the

knowledge, growing to certainty, that the issue of 1917 would be a German

offensive in 1918. All the credits on the side of the Allies were likely

to mature in the remote future. All the debits, the heaviest of which was

Russia, could be calculated at once.

Take, for instance, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s fifth volume.[99] It opens

on a very _piano_ note. ‘The late winter and the early spring of 1918 saw

the balance tilted against the British and their comrades in the West,

through causes over which they had no control.... From November [1917]

to March [1918] an endless succession of troop trains were bearing the

divisions which had extended from the Baltic to the southern frontiers

of Russia, in order to thicken the formidable array already marshalled

across France.’ Or take the expert evidence of Major-General Sir

Frederick Maurice[100]: ‘In Europe 1917 was a year of disappointment for

the arms of the Allies.... From the beginning of November onward they

[the Germans] were moving troops from the Russian to the French front as

fast as their trains could carry them. It was calculated that the Germans

would be able to increase their strength on the Western front between the

beginning of November and the end of April by not less than a million and

a half of men’: a very nasty calculation for the Allied Command, and for

the two Governments behind it at home.

Moreover, there was not much time. This was the key to the situation.

Troops moving as fast as they could travel would reach their destination

earlier than troops which were moving through a longer distance at a

slower rate. ‘While it would be possible,’ wrote Sir Douglas Haig,[101]

‘for Germany to complete her new dispositions early in the new year, the

forces which America could send to France before the season would permit

active operations to be recommenced would not be large’: again, a very

simple calculation, but it entailed serious consequences. The first was,

that ‘it became necessary to change the policy governing the operations

of the British Armies in France’[102]; or, rather, this was less the

first consequence than the sum-total of the consequences, which involved

in their train all kinds of major and minor changes. The policy governing

the operations of the British Armies in France had to be changed. 1918

had to be adjusted to 1917; and, while the process of adjustment unmade,

or, at least, disturbed, the whole basis of British dispositions, and

robbed the seed-time of the harvest, it was by no means clear that the

new course would be either satisfactory or complete. For the change from

an offensive to a defensive policy, under the urgent threat of a German

advance, was accompanied by (1) a reduction in the British fighting

strength, (2) a deficiency in defensive training, and (3) an extension

of the British front by over twenty-eight miles. Such, briefly, was the

problem at the opening of December, 1917, while General Braithwaite’s

gallant troops were still winning laurels in front of Cambrai, and public

opinion in England was still uncertain whether the ‘break-through’ had

come or not. As a fact, it was coming from the other side. It was coming

with a weight of men and guns unequalled in the history of warfare. It

was coming before the United States could pour their forces into Europe.

It was coming against spent soldiers, unprepared with rear-line systems

or with the latest developments in defensive fighting. It was coming,

when our man-power was at its lowest, measured by the demand that it had

met, and by the demands which it had to meet. It was coming, accordingly,

when Army Commanders, from the Field Marshal downwards, were upset, if

we may use an expressive term, by the necessity of defending an extended

front with numerically reduced forces. The re-organization of Divisions

from a 13-battalion to a 10-battalion basis affected, of course, even

the smallest unit, and every Commanding Officer had to adapt himself to

the new methods. That the fighting efficiency of units was impaired is a

conclusion contradicted by events. That it could not be otherwise than

impaired, under these novel and cumulative conditions, is an inference in

accordance with expectation.

We may select a very simple entry from the Diary of the 1/6th Duke of

Wellington’s West Riding Regiment (49th Division). On January 29th, 1918,

when the battalion was at Hondegem, a draft of eight Officers and one

hundred and ninety-five other ranks from the 1/5th West Riding Regiment

was posted to it, ‘the 1/5th W.R.R. having been transferred to the 62nd

Division.’ Next morning, this draft was posted to companies, ‘after which

all companies reorganized on a 4-platoon basis.’ Take the 2/4th Battalion

of the same Regiment, and its entry on January 31st, 1918: ‘The Brigade

was reduced to three Battalions, the 2/6th being broken up, ten Officers

and two hundred and twenty other ranks being transferred to the 2/4th

Duke of Wellington’s Regiment.’ On the same day, seven Officers and one

hundred and fifty other ranks were posted to the 2/5th West Yorkshires

from the 2/6th West Yorkshires, ‘who were disbanded’; and, briefly, if

reference be made to the Order of Battle of the 62nd Division, given at

the end of Chapter VI above, the range and complexity of the changes in

_personnel_, consequent on the supreme need of defending a longer line

with fewer men, and defending it against imminent assault, may be judged

by these random examples. There was not a Company Commander in all the

Divisions of the British Armies who did not _feel_ the effects of the new

policy in the early days of 1918.

Purposely, we have dwelt on the soldier’s view. To him it mattered

not at all that the Versailles (Supreme War) Council had been formed

at Rapallo in the previous November, or that Mr. Lloyd George, on his

way home through Paris, had delivered a rousing speech on the topic

of the barrier in the West. Neither Council nor speeches would break

that barrier, the dams of which were about to burst on _him_. To him,

again, it mattered little more that, before the dams burst in fury on

his long, thin, tired khaki line, the same doubts, or nearly the same

doubts, weighed heavily on the minds of his Commanders as had oppressed

them in 1915, when the 49th Division first came out to France. Now,

as then, behind the narrow wall of Troops, which still guarded Ypres

from the invader, lay Dunkirk, Calais, Boulogne. We may call this the

horizontal line, leading from Brussels to the sea, and across the sea to

hated England. That way lay the end of the war, and Prussia’s satisfied

ambition. Now, as then, too, a vertical line pointed southwards from

Ostend to Paris, through Arras, Albert and Amiens, and the battlefields

of 1916. That way lay a bisection of the Allied Forces, a spectacular

occupation of the French capital, and, at best, a prolongation of the

war into 1919 and even 1920. Either way lay disaster to British arms;

and the stars pointed both ways at once. To the soldier, as we say, it

mattered little that a kind of choice had to be made, and a kind of

balance had to be struck, between two alternative enemy aims, which

were yet not mutually exclusive. His business was to fight, not to

think, and, in the fighting days to which we are now coming, he fought

tenaciously till he fell, leaving to those whom they concerned the

fate of London and Paris. Yet, because their fate was involved in the

disposition of the Allied Armies at the beginning of 1918, we are bound

to consider the problem by which Sir Douglas Haig was confronted. ‘In

the northern portion of the British area,’ he wrote, in the Despatch

which we have already quoted in this chapter, ‘lie the northern channel

ports, the security of which necessitated the maintenance of sufficient

troops in the neighbourhood. Little or no ground could be given up on

this front.... In the central portion,’ he continued, ‘lie the northern

collieries of France and certain important tactical features which cover

our lateral communications. Here, also, little or no ground could be

given up.’ What could be given up? A hateful consideration for the High

Command, but it had to be faced and answered, in order to save what

could not, or to concert, at least, the best measures for its safety.

‘In the southern portion of the British area, south-east of Arras,’ it

was held, ‘ground could be given up under great pressure without serious

consequences.’ The ‘great pressure’ was certain to be applied, and it

afforded some consolation to reflect that, in contrast to the central

and northern portions, the forward area of this sector consisted chiefly

‘of a wide expanse of territory devastated by the enemy last spring in

his withdrawal.’ He had held it in 1916. Early in 1917, as we saw, he

had partly retired from it and had partly been driven back, destroying

and ravaging as he went, to his prepared lines in the rear. Let him come

again in 1918. We knew the ground as well as he. The ground ‘to be given

up under great pressure’ was sacred to the heroes of the Somme, and would

not be given up for ever.

The time passed quickly to the appointed day.

We return to the 62nd Division, in rest on January 1st in the Reserve

area of the XIIIth Corps in the Maroeuil district, above Arras. ‘It was

evident,’ runs the great Despatch, dated July 20th, but going back to the

previous November, ‘that the enemy was about to make a great effort south

of Arras. An attack on this front would undoubtedly have as its object

the separation of the French and British Armies and the capture of the

important centre of communications at Amiens. To meet this eventuality

more than half our available troops were allocated to the defence of this

sector, together with the whole of the cavalry.’ On January 5th, the

front from Gavrelle to Oppy, at right angles to the Arras-Douai road, was

taken over from the 56th by the 62nd, with the 185th Brigade holding the

left section all the time, and the 186th and 187th alternating on the

right. On January 9th, Major-General Braithwaite, the 62nd Divisional

Commander, assumed command of the sector. On the 18th, a German runner

was captured, and valuable information was elicited from him as to the

enemy dispositions. The 240th German Division was opposite the 62nd;

many troops, mostly from Russia, had been collected in the back areas;

the appointed day was plainly drawing nearer. There had been heavy snow

and a sudden thaw: ‘Conditions in the line very bad,’ writes a Battalion

diarist (January 19th), ‘but men very cheerful and happy’ (the italics

are his).

When they were not in the line, they were providing working parties; when

they were not at work, they were undergoing training. ‘The construction

of new communications and the extension of old, more especially in the

area south-east of Arras, involved the building of a number of additional

roads and the laying out of railways, both narrow and normal gauge. All

available men of the fighting units, with the exception of a very small

proportion undergoing training, and all labour units were employed on

these tasks.’ So far, the Field Marshal in his Despatch, and we may quote

Sir A. Conan Doyle’s comment: ‘There were no enslaved populations who

could be turned on to such work. For months before the attack the troops

... were digging incessantly. Indeed, the remark has been made that their

military efficiency was impaired by the constant navvy work upon which

they were employed.’[103] It may be. But Sir Douglas Haig bore testimony,

that ‘the time and labour available were in no way adequate, if, as was

suspected, the enemy intended to commence his offensive operations in the

early spring....’

On January 31st, as we saw, the re-organization of the Division took

place. Under the new scheme of nine battalions _plus_ a Pioneer Battalion

to a Division, the nucleus of Battalions to be amalgamated arrived

from the 49th Division further north. In the 185th Brigade, the 2/6th

West Yorkshires were disbanded, and the 2/8th were amalgamated with

the 1/8th to form the 8th West Yorks. In the 186th Brigade, the 2/6th

West Ridings were disbanded, and the 5th West Ridings were formed out

of an amalgamation of the 1st and 2nd Line Battalions. In the 187th

Brigade, when it left the line, the disbanded unit was the 2/5th York

and Lancasters; the 2/5th King’s Own Yorkshire Light Infantry were

amalgamated with the 1/5th as the 5th K.O.Y.L.I.

February sped, like January, in preparation varied by raids, and by

rumours more or less authentic. ‘Training and range-firing till noon.

Route march from 2-5 p.m.’ is a characteristic extract from a Battalion

diary, dated February 19th. On February 28th, the 62nd Division relieved

the 31st in the left sector of the XIIIth Corps. On March 10th, an

increase of activity was observed in the enemy aircraft and artillery. On

the 12th, information was to hand that an attack in the neighbourhood of

Arras might be expected at an early date, and the Division was held in a

state of readiness. On the 17th, under cover of darkness, two officers

and eighty other ranks of the 2/7th West Ridings made a successful raid

on the enemy trenches north of Fresnoy. On the 21st, news arrived that

the enemy offensive had started opposite the Third Army, on a front of

about twenty-seven miles from the north of Gouzeaucourt to the south

of Gavrelle. The Army Commander was General the Hon. Sir Julian Byng,

with the Vth, VIth, IVth and XVIIth Corps under the respective commands

of Lieut.-Generals Sir E. A. Fanshawe, Sir G. M. Harper, Sir J. A. L.

Haldane and Sir C. Fergusson, Bt.

[Illustration]

March 21st, 1918: the story has been told a hundred times, and will

be re-told in every book of the British Army until the ‘pussyfeet’ of

warfare prohibit the writing of military history. A few words must be

said about it here, though it happened that on the day itself no troops

from the West Riding were engaged. The Fifth Army, commanded at that

date by General Sir Hubert de la P. Gough, extended immediately south of

the Third, and consisted of the VIIth, XIXth, XVIIIth and IIIrd Corps,

under Lieut.-Generals Sir W. N. Congreve, Sir H. E. Watts, Sir F. I.

Maxse and Sir R. H. K. Butler respectively. At its southern extremity, it

touched the junction of the British and French lines; its total front was

about two-and-forty miles, with an average of about 6,750 yards to each

Division in the line compared with an average of about 4,700 yards per

Division in the line in the Third Army. We should remember, too, that the

southernmost portion of the front had only recently been taken over from

the French, and the ‘navvy’ work spoken of above was even more incomplete

than in other parts. By so much more difficult, accordingly, was Sir

Hubert Gough’s task than Sir Julian Byng’s. The German General opposing

the Fifth Army was von Hutier, the conqueror of Riga, and the Crown

Prince of Prussia was afforded this unique opportunity of winning his

coveted laurels in the final battle to be known as the _Kaiser-schlacht_.

Further, at least sixty-four Divisions of super-trained enemy troops

took part in the operations on the first day, against eight in the line

of the Third Army (with seven in reserve) and eleven in the line of the

Fifth Army (with three Infantry and three Cavalry in reserve). Two-thirds

of the German Divisions were allotted to the assault on General Gough;

and ‘never in the history of the world,’ it has well and soberly been

said, ‘had a more formidable force been concentrated on a fixed and

limited objective.’[104] We are not directly concerned with the story of

the Fifth Army on that day, but since its ‘apparent collapse’ has been

(or was) contrasted with the ‘glorious defence’ by General Byng, we may

be permitted to cite here the opinion of Major-General Sir F. Maurice,

that ‘the burden which Gough’s troops had to bear was incomparably the

greater.’ He summarizes with admirable brevity the facts which we have

recounted above:

‘In the first stage of the battle very nearly twice as many

German Divisions attacked Gough as fell upon Byng. Each of

Gough’s Divisions had on the average to hold nearly fifty per

cent. more front than had Byng, while the Third Army reserves

were nearly twice as strong as those of the Fifth, yet at the

end of the first day’s battle Gough’s left, where the gallant

9th Division beat off all attacks, had given less ground than

some of Byng’s Divisions further north had been compelled to

yield.’[105]

Pending the appearance of an official history of the war, no narrative

of March 21st can be otherwise than inadequate, which holds the scales

less evenly between the two Armies primarily engaged than this temperate

statement by Sir Frederick Maurice.

Even so, we have omitted the fog, which, after five hours’ incessant

bombardment (from 5 to 10 o’clock in the morning), had been drawn up from

the soil in a white, impenetrable blanket, and which, in Sir Douglas

Haig’s words, ‘hid from our artillery and machine gunners the S.O.S.

signals sent up by our outpost line,’ and ‘made it impossible to see more

than fifty yards in any direction.’ This efficient aid to the attackers,

which had often been simulated in battle by artificial means with smaller

success, affected the defence all along the line; and the only answer to

the fog, we are told, was to strengthen the Infantry in the trenches,

involving, if it were to be done, a fresh weakening of our too weak

reserves.

But we are not writing the history of the Second Battle of the Somme.

On March 21st, as we have said, General Braithwaite’s troops were not

engaged in that long line from Oppy to La Fère, on which, as we read

above, ‘ground could be given up under great pressure without serious

consequences.’ The pressure proved greater than had been anticipated,

and the measure of the ground given up increased the seriousness of the

consequences.

On the 21st, those fifty-four miles were held from north to south by

the following Divisions in order of line: 56th, 4th, 15th, 3rd, 34th,

59th, 6th, 51st, 17th, 63rd, 47th, 9th, 21st, 16th, 66th, 24th, 61st,

30th, 36th, 14th, 18th, 58th. The Guards Division was at Arras, and from

various points in the Reserve-area, again working southwards from above

the Scarpe, the 31st, 40th, 41st (west of Albert), 25th (at Bapaume),

19th, 2nd, 39th, 50th, 20th, and the 1st, 3rd and 2nd Cavalry Divisions

(at Péronne, Athies and Guiscard respectively) were brought up and thrown

into the line. The first battle-honours belong to these, and no sketch,

however imperfect, of the conditions under which they were won, can miss

the splendour of their winning, or the valour of the living and the dead.

We pass over the next few days. Their story is written on the map in

four days’ battle positions (March 23rd to 26th), all of which were

swiftly obliterated in the further retreat and the last advance. What

can never be obliterated, however, so long as gallant deeds are traced

on the map of human character, is the memory of those British Divisions,

outnumbered, befogged, giving ground, but retaining, with their backs to

the wall, the heroic quality of victors. We merely note that, on March

26th, at a conference held at Doullens between the French and British

Army Commanders, Lord Milner (representing the British Government),

M. Poincaré (President of the French Republic), M. Clemenceau (Prime

Minister) and the French Minister of Munitions, it was decided, in view

of the imminent danger of the capture of Amiens, ‘to place the supreme

control of the operations of the French and British forces in France

and Belgium in the hands of General Foch, who accordingly assumed

control.’[106]

On March 23rd, the wave of withdrawal reached the 62nd Division. The

187th Brigade was moved to Arras, where it was placed at the disposal of

the 15th Division, but this order was cancelled almost at once, under the

stress of immediate circumstances, and the whole Division was allotted

to the XVIIth Corps. On the night of March 24th/25th new orders were

received to join the IVth Corps, and early in the morning of the 25th the

three Infantry Brigades of the Division were moved to Ayette.

It proved a long day’s work, and the beginning of an exacting time. We

are back again now in the old, shell-ridden quadrilateral: Doullens-Arras

(north), Doullens-Albert (west), Albert-Bapaume (south), Arras-Bapaume

(east). Bucquoy, to which the Division was to move at once, lies just to

the east of the centre of the diagonal Arras-Albert, and the south-west

road from Bucquoy to Albert passes through Thiepval and Auchy, where

the 49th Division from the West Riding suffered so severely in 1916.

We remember how, a little more than a year ago, in January, 1917, when

the 62nd had just arrived in France, some Officers of the 2/5th Duke

of Wellington’s made ‘a tour of the trenches in an old London General

omnibus. The party visited Acheux and Warlencourt, and then drove along

the Doullens-Arras road, which was closed to traffic at one point owing

to shelling.’[107] The problem then was to push the Germans back, back

between Arras and Bapaume, always nearer to Douai and Cambrai. A year’s

hard battles had been fought, and now, in March, 1918, Bapaume had

fallen, Albert was to fall (March 26th-27th), and the problem was to

prevent the enemy’s ‘double hope of separating the French and British

Armies and interfering with the detraining arrangements of our Allies by

the capture of Montdidier.’[108] In this effort the now veteran 62nd was

to bear a conspicuous part.

CHAPTER XII

WITH THE 62ND AT BUCQUOY

General Braithwaite, then Commanding the 62nd, has said to the present

writer that he regards the action at Bucquoy as, perhaps, the finest

achievement of his Division. They were hurried to Ayette as early as

March 25th, and there, as stated, the Staff Officer who had been sent on

to IVth Corps Headquarters brought Orders for the Division to proceed at

once to Bucquoy. Divisional Headquarters reached it at about 8-30 in the

morning, and the General went forward to the Headquarters of the 40th

and 42nd Divisions, just West of Bucquoy, in order to learn the tactical

situation. (The 40th had been in reserve on March 21st till it was pushed

into the line near Bullecourt; the 42nd had arrived since that date).

The leading Troops of the 185th Brigade began to reach Bucquoy about 10

o’clock, but the roads were so much blocked with transport of all kinds

that concentration was not completed till 11-30. Meanwhile, Corps Orders

had been received for the men to have a meal and to get rested, and

for the Division, which had been up all night and had already marched

twelve miles, to hold itself in readiness for a move at short notice.

The General also paid a visit to the Headquarters of the 41st Division

(in reserve at Albert on March 21st, and also pushed into the line), now

likewise stationed at Bucquoy, and shortly afterwards Lieut.-General Sir

G. M. Harper, Commanding the IVth Corps, arrived.

The situation, as it revealed itself, was simple and serious. Briefly,

with or without Albert, which fell on the night of March 26th, the

urgent, essential task was to stabilize a line. The Germans had thrust,

and thrust again, here, there, wherever they found an opening. They had

driven us back in five days (March 21st to 25th), on the front of the

Third Army, right up to the line of the old trenches at Achiet-le-Grand,

Miraumont, Pozières. More ground might still be yielded ‘under great

pressure,’ but the vital danger lay further south, where, still to the

north of the River Somme, at the junction of the Third and Fifth Armies,

withdrawals on the night of the 26th were to reach a line from Albert

to Sailly-le-Sec. What this meant to the French forces nearer Paris,

to the important centre at Montdidier, and to the railway from Amiens

to the capital, was coming very insistently into view; and the severe

strain on the 62nd Division, among other gallant Divisions, on March 25th

and following days, was due above all to the necessity of arresting the

advance about the Ancre, and of preventing the German hope of breaking

through the receding British line. Once broken, it could never have

been mended, and our real triumph in defeat was our disappointment of

Ludendorff’s design of cutting off one force from another. The line went

back, irregularly, unsteadily. Perilous salients were bulged out, to be

straightened by retirements on the wings. Troops were pushed from place

to place, or assembled by spontaneous conglomeration, to stop a dangerous

gap. Different units became hopelessly mixed, and sorted themselves out

into novel formations. Platoons, Companies, even Battalions improvised

barriers of their own dead. But still Ludendorff was disappointed. Still

his weary men, flung in desperation, however magnificently led, spent

their last ounce of strength in vain. Still, in retreat after retreat,

touch was maintained between Brigades, between Divisions. Still fighting

the enemy to a standstill, dog-tired, attenuated, unconquerable—still a

line held.

It was to a patch of that line, covering, roughly, the centre region in

the Doullens-Albert-Bapaume-Arras quadrangle, to which we have frequently

referred, that the attention of Major-General Braithwaite was directed

by the IVth Corps Commander at their anxious conference in Bucquoy about

noon on March 25th.

The 186th Brigade was now arriving at Bucquoy, and the two

Brigadier-Generals (185th and 186th) were ordered, as soon as they would

be ready, to move to Achiet-le-Petit, and to cover that village, the

186th on the right and the 185th on the left. The object of this move

was to prolong the front of the 62nd Division (at Logeast Wood, due East

of Bucquoy, and midway between Ablainzevelle and Achiet-le-Grand), so as

to enable other Divisions which had been heavily engaged, to withdraw

and re-organize. The Brigades reached their positions between 4 and 5

o’clock in the afternoon, with two Battalions each in line and one in

reserve, and with one Company of the Machine-Gun Battalion attached to

each Brigade. It is to be observed that these were the first operations,

since the Machine-Gun re-organization, in which that Battalion had taken

part, and, in ideal country for that weapon, and with the improved moral

of the Companies under new conditions, the results fully justified the

change. During the early evening of March 25th, the various Divisions

affected (19th, 25th, 41st, 51st) gradually withdrew behind the line held

now by the 62nd with the 42nd, and at 7 o’clock Major-General Walter

Braithwaite, Commanding the 62nd Division, took over Command of the

front, with Headquarters at Bucquoy, and the Headquarters of the gallant

41st were removed to Souastre in the rear. At 9-30, General Braithwaite’s

Headquarters withdrew to Gommecourt, to which a line had been run during

the afternoon, but, owing to the heavy traffic on the roads, the move

was not completed till 11 p.m. About that hour, the Corps Commander sent

a telephone message to say that it would be necessary to withdraw not

later than next morning to the line Puisieux-Bucquoy-Ablainzevelle, and

to ask the Divisional Commander if he preferred to make the move sooner,

while still under cover of darkness. We should note that a trench East

of Bucquoy had been dug during the afternoon by the Pioneer Battalion of

the 62nd (9th Durham Light Infantry), in order to cover that place in

the event of our Troops being driven in, and that about 8 p.m. the 187th

Brigade was ordered to concentrate on Bucquoy in Divisional Reserve,

and to move forward a Battalion into the new trench. Meanwhile, the

Divisional Artillery had arrived, and went into action, covering the

withdrawal, during the night of the 25th.

General Braithwaite decided to take advantage of the darkness, but,

though a Staff Officer was sent back at once to communicate his decision

to the Brigadiers, the Order did not reach them till after 2 o’clock next

morning (March 26th), so heavy was the congestion in the roads; and the

actual start was made in early daylight. In the night, the 186th Brigade

was subjected to enemy fire, and some changes in the dispositions had

to be made, but the successful withdrawal of the Division was completed

about 8 a.m., when the 185th Brigade took up a position on the high

ground East of Bucquoy. The 186th were in touch with them, and extended

to a point about five hundred yards North-east of Puisieux, with two

Battalions in the front line, and the third and Pioneer Battalions in

support. The 187th were in Divisional Reserve in the neighbourhood of

Biez Wood, with two Battalions East of the Wood, and the third in the

trenches South and South-west.

This was on March 26th, and another heavy and difficult day ensued.

The Germans were advancing all the time in a westerly direction, which

developed during the day into a determined north-westerly attack from

the neighbourhood of Puisieux and Serre against the right flank of the

186th Brigade. Two Battalions of that Brigade (5th Duke of Wellington’s

and Pioneers) were accordingly withdrawn a short distance, so as to face

more directly to the South, with their right resting on Rossignol Wood

(between Bucquoy and Hébuterne), so as to cover the exits from Puisieux.

Three Companies of the 2/4th Duke of Wellington’s (in Reserve) were

moved forward to prolong this line, and a Battalion of the 187th Brigade

(Reserve) was further used to extend their flank on the high ground

West of Rossignol Wood. This occurred in the late afternoon, when five

heavy attacks by the Prussian Guard on Bucquoy, and between Bucquoy and

Puisieux, had been repulsed; and the causes why the German advance in

this area had shifted slightly to the North (roughly, in the direction

Serre to Hébuterne) were, briefly, two: (1) To the South of Puisieux and

Hébuterne, early on March 26th, there was a gap in the line of three

or four miles between the 62nd and 12th Divisions. About a thousand

men from various units of the 19th Division were holding the defences

round Hébuterne, and it was known that the New Zealand Division was

well on its way to fill the gap. Their leading Brigade, however, could

not arrive till the late afternoon, and it was actually about 10 p.m.

before it filled the southern half of the gap, with its left resting on

Colincamps. Meanwhile, about 7 p.m., the 4th Brigade of the Australian

Division, which had been put at General Braithwaite’s disposal, relieved

the elements of the 19th in the defence of Hébuterne, and got in touch

during the night of the 26th and early morning of the 27th with the

second Brigade of the New Zealanders, to the South of the village. This

gap, then, and the delay in filling it, were one main cause of the

concentration on the West of Bucquoy. The second (2) was subsidiary, and

arose from the fact that, during the morning of March 26th, constant

reports were received of mounted enemy troops seen in Hébuterne and even

to the West of it. Possibly, isolated patrols had reached the edge of

the village, but, as the result of these rumours, ‘unauthorized orders

were issued by persons totally unknown, in a more or less excited state,’

to clear all transport westwards, and some valuable hours were lost in

collecting and bringing back those units.

[Illustration: THE CHURCH, BUCQUOY.]

This bare account of one day’s fighting leaves much to the imagination.

But an hour by hour recital of the deeds of unit by unit in the Division

would make too much of a day’s work, which was only the beginning of

a hard battle. We must not lose the perspective in a contemplation of

detail, and this perspective is admirably rendered in the few lines

devoted by Sir A. Conan Doyle to the 62nd Division on March 6th. ‘South

of Puisieux,’ he writes, ‘there was a gap of four or five miles [the

Divisional Commander says ‘three or four’] before one came to British

troops. Into this gap in the very nick of time came first the 4th Brigade

of the Second Australian Division, and later the New Zealand Division in

driblets, which gradually spanned the vacant space. It was a very close

call for a break through without opposition. Being disappointed in this,

the Germans on March 26th spent the whole afternoon in fierce attacks

on the 62nd Division, but got little but hard knocks from Braithwaite’s

Yorkshiremen,’ who, we remember, had been on the move since early morning

the day before. ‘The 186th Brigade on the right,’ it is added, ‘threw

back a flank to Rossignol Wood to cover the weak side.’[109] We shall not

further expand it.

Next day, March 27th, after a comparatively quiet night, the attacks

on Bucquoy were resumed on the front held by the 185th and the left

of the 186th Brigade. Our Lewis guns took ample toll of the advancing

enemy lines, and the assault failed with heavy loss. Shortly after noon

another attack was begun to the East of Rossignol Wood, where the 5th

Duke of Wellington’s, who had suffered so severely the day before, were

primarily engaged on their right. Their Lewis guns and rifles proved

effective in the open, but the bombers swarming the old trenches which

existed in that part of the line were less easy to repulse: the German

was a skilful thrower, and it happened at that time and in that locality

that rifle bombs and Stokes Mortars were very difficult to procure.

Despite extraordinary courage and untiring effort and resourcefulness,

bombing parties continued to work their way up the intricate systems

of old trenches; and, though two determined attacks between Rossignol

Wood and Hébuterne (between 1 o’clock and 2-30) and two others on

Bucquoy (at 4 o’clock and again at 5-30) were severally defeated, the

2/4th Battalion of the King’s Own Yorkshire Light Infantry were driven

to the high ground East of Hébuterne and a Company of the 2/4th York

and Lancasters were driven out of the Wood. The North-westerly move

of the enemy, which we noted as his direction the day before, seemed,

accordingly, more critical, since a gap had been made between the right

of the 186th Brigade and the Australians in Hébuterne. To meet this

crisis, the trenches East of Gommecourt, lying further to the North-west,

were manned by two Companies of Australians, and the 187th Brigade was

ordered immediately to counter-attack. There was some delay in getting

this order through to the two left Battalions of the Brigade (the 2/4th

York and Lancasters and the 5th King’s Own Yorkshire Light Infantry), but

about 7 in the evening, after the 4th Australian Brigade had been ordered

urgently to co-operate, using, if necessary, the whole of their Reserve

Battalion, the Brigadier-General Commanding the 186th got into personal

touch with Lieut.-Colonel O. C. S. Watson, D.S.O., Commanding the 5th

K.O.Y.L.I. (187th Brigade), and ordered him to counter-attack Rossignol

Wood, with the help of four Tanks, which the Brigadier was able to put at

his disposal. This counter-attack succeeded, and at 11 p.m. the Officer

Commanding the Battalion reported that he had regained part of the Wood

and the high ground to the South-west of it. He had gained great glory

at the same time, as is shown by the following extract from the _London

Gazette_, May 8th, 1918:

‘VICTORIA CROSS

‘Major (A/Lt.-Col.) Oliver Cyril Spencer Watson, D.S.O. (R. of

O.), late King’s Own Yorkshire Light Infantry.

‘For most conspicuous bravery, self-sacrificing devotion to

duty, and exceptionally gallant leading during a critical

period of operations. His command was at a point where

continual attacks were made by the enemy in order to pierce the

line, and an intricate system of old trenches in front, coupled

with the fact that his position was under constant rifle and

machine-gun fire rendered the situation still more dangerous. A

counter-attack had been made against the enemy position, which

at first achieved its object, but as they were holding out in

two improvised strong points, Lieut.-Colonel Watson saw that

immediate action was necessary, and he led his remaining small

reserve to the attack, organizing bombing parties and leading

attacks under intense rifle and machine-gun fire. Outnumbered

he finally ordered his men to retire, remaining himself in a

communication trench to cover the retirement, though he faced

almost certain death by so doing. The assault he led was at a

critical moment, and without doubt saved the line. Both in the

assault and in covering his men’s retirement he held his life

as nothing, and his splendid bravery inspired all troops in the

vicinity to rise to the occasion and save a breach being made

in a hardly tried and attenuated line.

‘Lt.-Colonel Watson was killed while covering the withdrawal.’

We have only to add to this record of the 27th, that the 185th Brigade

should have been relieved on that day, but the operations round Rossignol

Wood and the loss of Ayette (by the 31st Division on the left of the

42nd) postponed the relief for twenty-four hours.

The night passed quickly and fairly quietly. On March 28th, there was

an early bombardment of the whole Divisional front and of the back area

over the Woods (Biez and Rossignol), and an intercepted advance on

Bucquoy, which was subjected to heavy shelling all that day. Splendid

work was done in that morning battle (10 a.m. till noon) by the 186th

Brigade under Brig.-General J. L. G. Burnett, a very worthy successor to

Bradford, whose services we commemorated above. One Platoon of the 5th

Duke of Wellington’s, which occupied an advanced post, became isolated

from the rest. When last heard of at about 1 o’clock, it was known to be

still holding out, but no particulars of its experiences are available.

The heroic record remains, to the imperishable honour of Yorkshiremen,

that, when the position was finally reached, this Platoon had been

overwhelmed, and not a man was left alive.

More serious than attacks in the open, which were sometimes stopped,

and which, if they developed, were repulsed, were those bombing-parties

working their way up the trenches, who had done so much damage the day

before. They were very active again on the 28th, and sometime between

noon and 2 o’clock they contrived to drive back from the ridge East of

Hébuterne and from Rossignol Wood the 5th Battalion of the King’s Own

Yorkshire Light Infantry, who had made so gallant a sacrifice to hold

that position overnight. Rossignol Wood was not recovered on that day.

Two Tanks were derelict in the Wood, and formed effective cover for the

enemy, and there was a partial failure, too, in an attempt by the 124th

Brigade (41st Division). At 7 o’clock, fresh orders for the re-capture

were given to the 8th West Yorkshires (in reserve to the 185th Brigade),

who were placed at the disposal of the 187th, and at the same time

the 4th Australian Brigade was to drive the enemy out of the trenches

South-east of Gommecourt. This bombing encounter proved successful in

releasing five hundred yards of trenches, and by early morning of March

29th the West Yorkshires had reached the Northern end of the contested

Wood. There they were held up by heavy machine-gun fire, but the twofold

counter-measures had eased the situation, and the gap between the 186th

and the Australian Brigades was satisfactorily filled. The postponed

relief of the 185th by the 42nd Division was duly completed during that

night.

Next morning (March 29th), progress was made with the urgent work of

re-organizing the 187th Brigade. It had performed magnificent service

in exceptionally difficult circumstances, which included the absence

through illness of its Brigadier-General. Lt.-Col. Barton, D.S.O., who

had been temporarily in Command, had also fallen ill, and was replaced

on March 28th by Lt.-Col. C. K. James, D.S.O., the Officer Commanding

the 2/7th West Yorkshires. The Brigade had been almost continuously in

action since its hurried departure from Ayette in the early hours of

March 25th, and the V.C. awarded posthumously to the Commanding Officer

of the 5th K.O.Y.L.I. is an indication of the splendid resistance which

it offered time after time to the enemy assaults on its front. The

Brigade was now located in the trenches North and West of Rossignol Wood,

in touch with the 186th on its right and with the 41st Division on its

left. One Battalion of the 185th was moved up in close support during the

afternoon. Bombing fights between the Australians and their assailants

about Gommecourt and Hébuterne were the chief incidents of the day which

proved the growing exhaustion of the enemy. March 30th and 31st were

spent, too, in comparative quiet: an important document captured by the

Australians showed how heavily the Germans had suffered. But the 62nd had

suffered too. We referred above to Colonel Watson. Two other Commanding

Officers, who fell at the head of their respective Regiments, may also

be mentioned here, as splendid types of fighting Officers, first beloved

and then mourned by their men. These were Lieut.-Colonels A. H. and C.

K. James, of the 7th and 8th West Yorkshires, known, of course, as James

the Seventh and James the Eighth, who, though not related to each other,

were firm comrades in life and death. On the night of March 31st-April

1st, a Brigade of the 37th Division relieved the 186th, which withdrew

to Souastre and Henu, and next night the remainder of the 62nd Division

(less Artillery) was relieved by the 37th, and moved back into the

Reserve area.

It will be admitted that they had earned their relief. The Field

Marshal’s summary runs, under date March 27th: ‘A series of strong

attacks commenced all along our front from about Bucquoy to the

neighbourhood of Hamelincourt, in the course of which the enemy

gained possession of Ablainzevelle and Ayette’ (which was re-taken

by the 32nd Division on April 3rd). ‘Elsewhere,’ it continues, ‘all

his assaults were heavily repulsed by troops of the 62nd Division,

under Command of Major-General W. P. Braithwaite, and of the 42nd and

Guards Divisions.’[110] And, under date March 28th: ‘The 42nd Division

drove off two attacks from the direction of Ablainzevelle and the 62nd

Division with an attached Brigade of the 4th Australian Division also

beat off a succession of heavy attacks about Bucquoy with great loss to

the enemy.’[111] We have filled in some details in this outline, which

is sufficiently effective in its statement of duty done and of local

successes achieved. If we go behind it at all, it is rather to point to

some lessons that were learned than to gild the laurels of renown which

the Division earned during those fiery days.

[Illustration: BUCQUOY: STREET.

BUCQUOY: MARKET PLACE.]

We have already mentioned the work of the newly-organized Machine-Gun

Battalion, and the comparative lack of Rifle bombs and Stokes Mortars.

Another fact worth noting is the renewed confidence reposed in the Rifle

and the Lewis Gun. In the face of effective fire from these weapons

the enemy never succeeded in pushing home an attack across the open.

Communication between the Division and Brigades was maintained with very

little interruption, and the two Brigade Headquarters being kept together

enabled the admirable Signal Service to devote all their attention to

one main route. Under these novel conditions of open warfare, it was

found that special training was required for the Power Buzzer operations

of Brigade Sections, and in other technical details the experience at

Bucquoy was to prove valuable.

Most valuable of all was the knowledge that, with nearly all the chances

against them, they had fought the enemy to a standstill. Despite a

perilous gap in the thinned line of British troops, and despite the

delays in filling it, the enemy had not broken through. The line was

threatened on March 25th. It was constantly, almost continuously,

assailed from the East, and, where disclosed, from the South. It still

held on March 31st. Mistakes unavoidable in the medley were heroically

repaired. Odd pockets of men, as we have seen—a thousand from the

19th Division behind Hébuterne, another thousand from the 41st about

Gommecourt—showed incomparable resourcefulness. Sudden orders were given

in emergency, and were carried out unerringly under darkness. Troops

confidently expected in the afternoon arrived short of their destination

after nightfall, and the intervals of time and place were filled up. The

whole story of these days is a lesson in how not to yield, and the whole

moral of it is contained in the fact that the end of the first phase

of the Second Battle of the Somme was, at best, an incomplete German

victory. They had not achieved what they had hoped, and, losing hope,

they would lose all.

So, Bucquoy is a name that shines in the war record of the 62nd

Division. We leave them now, at the beginning of April, in Divisional

Reserve, with their Headquarters at Pas, enjoying a well-earned respite

from active operations, though under two hours’ notice to move: and we

turn next to another part of the wide field, where the 49th Division, the

First Line of the West Riding Territorials, bore its separate part in the

grand defensive.

CHAPTER XIII

WITH THE 49TH IN THE VALLEY OF THE LYS

I.—FIRST PHASE

We reach a confused tract of warfare, punctuated, as ever, by noble

deeds, through which we must strike a careful trail.

In an Order, issued by Major-General Cameron, Commanding the 49th

Division, and reviewing the period from April 10th to May 5th, 1918, upon

which we are now to enter, the General drew attention to the fact that

his Division had not been fighting as a whole. ‘In some ways it is sad,’

he wrote; ‘but the fact that we have been separated for a great part of

the time has in no way diminished the credit of your achievements. Every

part of the Division in its own sphere of action has done exceptionally

well, and every part has earned high praise from Commanders outside the

Division.’

Partly, then, the confusion arises from the distribution of the Troops

to outside Commands. But the mere fact of this distribution is itself

evidence to the difficulty of responsible leadership in those days; and,

before we attempt to draw a table of the activities of the Division in

place and time during the period covered by that Order, a brief survey

may be made from a more general point of view. ‘Every part earned high

praise from Commanders outside the Division’: we are concerned, then,

with outside Commands and with a wider outlook than the 49th Division’s.

We are concerned with Ludendorff’s point of view, so far as we are at

liberty to re-construct it. On a previous page we tried to show how the

German mind in March was divided between two strategic plans, one of

which pointed to Paris and the other to the Channel ports. Both were

pursued in turn, and even to some extent simultaneously, and either,

if successful, would have inflicted an almost irreparable blow on the

Allied forces of France and Britain. The point is, that neither quite

succeeded: the union of those Forces under Foch and the response of the

British Armies to Haig’s summons on April 13th, ‘WITH OUR BACKS TO THE

WALL, AND BELIEVING IN THE JUSTICE OF OUR CAUSE, EACH OF US MUST FIGHT

TO THE END,’ were to prove incalculably more effective than all the odds

combined against them. But the initiative in April was with the Germans.

So soon as one plan miscarried, or was left standing, or was conveniently

broken off, they were able to call the other plan, and to make a new push

with fresh Troops. The initiative was theirs, and the superiority was

theirs, in numbers and (by the offensive) in surprise. ‘The possibility

of a German attack North of the La Bassée Canal had been brought to my

notice,’ wrote Sir Douglas Haig, ‘prior to the 21st March. Indications

that preparations for a hostile attack in this sector were nearing

completion had been observed in the first days of April.’[112] But no

observations, however accurate, and no prevision, however acute, could

organize fifty-eight Divisions to fight battles in two sectors at one

time. Forty of the fifty-eight Divisions had been engaged in the Second

Battle of the Somme, and ‘the steps which I could take,’ he continued,

‘to meet a danger which I could foresee were limited by the fact that,

though the enemy’s progress on the Somme had for the time being been

stayed, ... [he] was in a position to take immediate advantage of any

weakening of my forces in that area.’[113] And to initiative, numbers and

surprise was added the fortune of the weather. The early spring had been

‘unseasonably fine,’ and the low-lying ground in the Lys Valley dried up

in time for the Germans to anticipate a relief of the Portuguese, who

were holding the front to the South of Armentières, and who had been in

the line for several months. A shattering German assault fell suddenly

(April 9th) on this thin-spread Portuguese Division, already overdue

for relief; and ‘no blame,’ we instinctively know, ‘can be attached to

inexperienced troops who gave way to so terrific a blow, which would have

been formidable to any soldiers in the world.’[114]

Such, then, in the broadest outline, was the strategic situation, when

Ludendorff, leading the _Kaiser-schlacht_, which had opened on March

21st, left the fate of Amiens hanging in the precarious balance to which

it had been fought in ten days, and sought to add terror to exhaustion by

renewing his thrust at the Channel ports.

When this underlying principle is seized, and Sir Douglas Haig’s problem

is imagined, what ensued may briefly be recounted to the date of the

engagement of units of the 49th. We are not now to consider the biggest

aspect: the point of view of the War Council at Versailles. The facts

that Americans were coming, and that British reinforcements would be

poured in, did not illumine the darkness in Flanders in the middle of the

second week of April. Nor is it immediately to the point, that, when Sir

Frederick Maurice saw Marshal Foch on April 16th, and the Germans seemed

‘well on the road to Calais and Boulogne, ... Foch had himself measured

accurately both the German strength and the endurance of the British

Army.... “The battle in Flanders is practically over,” he said; “Haig

will not need any more troops from me.” Not even the loss of Kemmel a few

days later ruffled him. He was right, and the battle in Flanders ended in

a complete repulse of the second German effort to break through.’[115]

No. We should thank heaven, fasting, for the Marshal’s masterly

imperturbability. It won the war, among many claimants for that boon. But

the great leader himself would admit, that his estimate of ‘the endurance

of the British Army’ had been calculated to the last ounce of its worn

strength, and that ‘the loss of Kemmel a few days later’ (on April 25th,

to be precise) imposed a well-nigh intolerable strain.

We are to contract our horizon on those days: to forget, what were then

invisible, the dots and spots on the Atlantic, which marked the precious

troopships bringing help from the New World to the Old; to forget the set

will of Paris, raided from the air by night and day, and nearly within

gunshot as well; to forget the last effort of England, and how, in a

room at the War Office, all was ready to call out the Volunteers, the

final arm of Home Defence; and we are to try to piece together events in

Flanders from early morning on April 9th, when the brave Portuguese were

overrun, till the confidence of the French Marshal was justified at the

end of the battle on May 8th. Throughout that month, we are to remember

the superb generalship of Sir Douglas Haig, splendidly backed as he was

by Generals Sir H. Horne, Commanding the First, and Sir Herbert Plumer,

Commanding the Second Army. Through all ranks of the heroic forces which

they commanded, whether tired veterans from the hills and valleys of the

Somme, or new drafts of young soldiery from home, and in all arms of the

Service, one spirit prevailed: to obey, at whatever personal cost, the

supreme call of their Commander-in-Chief, which was issued on the fourth

day of the Flanders battle, and the pith of which we quoted above. The

enemy’s objects, they were told, ‘are to separate us from the French, to

take the Channel ports, and destroy the British Army.’ He had, as yet,

‘made little progress towards his goals.’ Time, they were reminded, was

on their side, not necessarily as individuals but as Englishmen: ‘Victory

will belong to the side which holds out the longest.’ And then followed

the stern command: ‘There is no other course open to us but to fight

it out. Every position must be held to the last man: there must be no

retirement. With our backs to the wall, and believing in the justice of

our cause, each one of us must fight to the end. The safety of our homes

and the freedom of mankind depend alike upon the conduct of each one of

us at this critical moment.’

So we come to the 49th Division, which has been in the Ypres area all

that year, performing necessary and at times exacting duties on a front

which was never immune from Artillery attacks and sudden raids, and to

its response, through its various units, to the call to stand fast and

die.

[Illustration: Ypres 49th. Divisional Headqrs. in the Ramparts:—Winter,

1917-18.]

The German advance on April 9th between Armentières and the La Bassée

Canal had bulged in the line by that evening to a distance of three

to five miles. Next day, the attack was extended North of Armentières

to Wytschaete and Hollebeke, and the enemy gains were extended. The

34th Division in Armentières, though not yet attacked on their own

front, had their two flanks dangerously exposed, and were withdrawn

in a North-westerly direction, reaching a stopping-place at Nieppe.

If we follow this action a little further, we shall be able to fit in

more intelligibly the narrative of the 49th Division. On April 11th

the advance was pressed in the direction of Nieppe and Neuve Église,

and in the afternoon there was fierce fighting about Messines, now in

enemy occupation. These losses pinched the 34th out of their temporary

foothold at Nieppe. The withdrawal on this day did not cease in that

particular area till about a thousand yards East of Neuve Église and

Wulverghem, involving the abandonment of Hill 63. Next day, an assault

in great strength was launched due westwards between Merville and

Steenwerk, and affected our line below Bailleul, which looks down

through Nieppe to Armentières. On the same day and the following (the

13th) Neuve Église was hotly involved, and fell before midnight on the

14th. Another twenty-four hours and Bailleul had suffered the same

fate. There was now a very perilous salient in this stricken northerly

region, and on the night of April 15th/16th the decision was taken to

withdraw from the Passchendaele Ridge, the scene of so much bloodshed

in the previous summer; and, consequently, to close in nearer to Ypres.

These retirements, as may be seen on a map, brought the Kemmel sector

into prominence, and the German capture on April 16th of Meteren and

Wytschaete, at the two extremes of that front, was developed next morning

(17th) into a determined attack on Kemmel Hill.

[Illustration]

Recalling now from page 46 above, and from an earlier April 17th, the

geographical significance of Ypres, noting that this significance was

not diminished by the improvement in German heavy Artillery, as shown

by the guns trained on Paris, and observing that a sentimental value

had accrued to Ypres in those middle years almost bigger than its

geographical significance, we are now better qualified to measure the

anxiety of the British Command during the crucial week, April 9th to

16th, 1918. Would Ypres fall? Would the Channel ports follow, with all

their accumulated stores, and G.H.Q. be driven to the sea? Could the

hard-pressed Troops of the Second Army hold out to perform their allotted

task, since ‘the constant and severe fighting in the Lys battle front,

following so closely on the tremendous struggle South of Arras, had

placed a very serious strain upon the British forces’? ‘Many British

divisions,’ continued their Commander, ‘had taken part in the northern

and southern battles, while others had been engaged almost continuously

from the outset of the German offensive.’[116] We know the answer to

these questions. It is time now to see in one area how those answers were

dictated.

Take, first, in the 49th Division, the 147th Infantry Brigade, which

moved on the night of April 9th/10th to join the 34th near Armentières

with the following Group Details: ‘A’ Company of the Machine Gun Corps,

a Light Trench Mortar Battery, a Field Company (57) Royal Engineers, a

Field Ambulance (1/2nd West Riding), and No. 3 Company, 49th Divisional

Train. On April 10th, the 1/4th Duke of Wellington’s were engaged at

Erquinghem, covering a crossing of the Lys. That night, the Brigade was

defending Nieppe, in support of the 34th Division in its withdrawal from

Armentières. On the night of the 11th/12th, they carried out a skilful

rearguard action, covering a further withdrawal. From the 12th to 14th,

they maintained their position, despite repeated attacks, in the southern

outskirts of Bailleul. A few hours’ rest, and on the evening of the 15th

the Brigade was again in the front line, in consequence of Bailleul’s

fall. On April 16th and 17th, they were successfully holding their own

on the slopes to the North-west of Bailleul, and taking heavy toll of

the enemy. ‘In this action,’ we read, ‘all units of the Brigade Group

greatly distinguished themselves.’ On the 19th, they moved into the 34th

Divisional Reserve, and two days later they rejoined their own Division

in and around Poperinghe. Thus, this Group is inserted into the fighting

which we summarized just now; and, before taking the other Groups in

order, or expanding the narrative of this, we may fitly interpolate the

praises which it won from Major-General C. L. Nicholson, Commanding the

34th Division:

‘The G.O.C. 34th Division wishes to place on record his great

appreciation of the services rendered by the 147th Infantry

Brigade during the period it has been attached to the Division

under his Command. The action of the 4th Battalion Duke of

Wellington’s, South of the Lys on 10th April, the skilful

rearguard fighting under cover of which the Division withdrew

from the Nieppe position, the stubborn defence of the right

of the Division at Steam Hill (South of Bailleul), and the

complete defeat of a whole German Regiment on the 16th April,

are exploits of which the Brigade may well be proud.

‘Throughout the period, the steadiness, gallantry and endurance

of all ranks has been worthy of the highest traditions of

British Infantry, and the G.O.C. 34th Division is proud to have

had such Troops under his Command.’

Or these praises bestowed on a gallant Regiment may be tested by

the record of one man: No. 24066, Pte. Arthur Poulter, of the 1/4th

Battalion, Duke of Wellington’s (West Riding), who was awarded the

Victoria Cross for his action on April 10th, commemorated in the

following terms in the _London Gazette_ of June 28th:

‘For most conspicuous bravery when acting as a

stretcher-bearer. On ten occasions Pte. Poulter carried

badly wounded men on his back to a safer locality, through a

particularly heavy artillery and machine-gun barrage. Two of

these were hit a second time whilst on his back. Again, after

a withdrawal over the river had been ordered, Pte. Poulter

returned in full view of the enemy who were advancing, and

carried back another man who had been left behind wounded.

He bandaged up over forty men under fire, and his conduct

throughout the whole day was a magnificent example to all

ranks. This very gallant soldier was subsequently seriously

wounded when attempting another rescue in the face of the

enemy.’

A Group, similarly constituted, of the 148th Infantry Brigade was sent

on April 10th to Neuve Église, which was plainly threatened on that

day, under orders to move at half an hour’s notice. The same night, its

1/5th York and Lancasters became attached to the 74th Brigade (25th

Division) where it was drawn into the fighting near Steenwerk, to the

South of Nieppe, and rendered valuable service, remaining in attachment

until April 16th. Next day (11th), in the morning, the 1/4th Battalion

of the same Regiment was detailed to counter-attack on a line West of

Ploegsteert Wood, where the rest of the 25th Division was engaged. Hill

63 is situated immediately North of the North-west corner of that Wood,

and Neuve Église lies about two miles to its North-west. We shall have to

come back to the gallant record of this unit, and of the 1/4th King’s Own

Yorkshire Light Infantry, and of others in the Group, during the struggle

for Neuve Église, which lasted till the night of April 14th/15th. It is

a record of desperate valour against overwhelming odds; and, when, weary

but undaunted, the Brigade was withdrawn to Poperinghe on April 19th,

it had thoroughly earned the encomium of Major-General Sir E. G. T.

Bainbridge, Commanding the 25th Division:

‘Will you thank the 148th Infantry Brigade for all they did in

holding on to Neuve Église? It is, of course, greatly due to

them that the place was held as long as it was.’

Similar praises were bestowed by the Brigadier-General Commanding the

74th Brigade (25th Division) on the Battalion of the 148th Brigade, which

had been under his orders. He placed on record,

‘his great appreciation of the services rendered by the 5th

Battalion York and Lancaster Regiment during the time it was

attached to the Brigade under his Command. The gallantry and

endurance of all ranks throughout the operations are worthy

of the highest traditions of the British Army, and it was a

pleasure to the B.G.C. to have such Troops under his Command.

He was much impressed by the dashing manner in which the

Battalion carried out the attack on Cabaret du Saule on 11th

April, and by its stubborn resistance on 14th April on Mont de

Lille.’

We come, last in this summary, to the 146th Infantry Brigade (49th

Division).

On April 10th, it was in line in the Ypres salient, under the orders of

the 21st Division.

Next day, very early in the morning, its 1/7th Battalion, West Yorkshire

Regiment, became attached to the 62nd Infantry Brigade, which had been

detached from the 21st Division and placed under the orders of the

9th (Scottish) Division, commanded by Major-General G. H. Tudor. That

Division (the 9th), we may note, in anticipatory compensation for its

terrible losses in this area in April, was to have the honour on July

19th of capturing Meteren with great _éclat_. This reversal of misfortune

lay in the future. To-day the situation was very grave, and the part

played by the 1/7th West Yorkshires, in attachment to the attached

Brigade, may best be told, in advance of the more detailed narrative, in

the Report of the Brigadier-General Commanding the 62nd Brigade, which

was transmitted by General Tudor to General Cameron (49th Division). It

was dated April 20th and ran as follows:—

‘I should like also to draw attention to the very gallant

behaviour of the 1/7th Battalion West Yorkshire Regiment, of

the 146th Infantry Brigade.

‘On the critical afternoon of the 11th April, when the Brigade

holding the Messines Sector was driven back, leaving my right

flank perilously exposed, the 1/7th West Yorkshire Regiment

was moved up at very short notice from Parret Camp to form a

defensive flank on the Bogaert Farm-Pick Wood Spor, and to fill

the gap on our right.

‘Under very heavy shelling the Battalion moved forward

splendidly, and their steadiness undoubtedly saved the

situation. From that evening until the morning of the 16th

the Battalion held the right sub-sector of the Brigade

front from Bogaert Farm to Pick Wood; on the night of the

15/16th they handed over from Bogaert Farm to Scott Farm to

the 1st Battalion, Lincolnshire Regiment, and took over to

Spanrock-Molen inclusive. On an extended front they encountered

the full force of the enemy attack on the morning of the

16th, and fought most gallantly until overwhelmed by superior

numbers. As in the case of other Battalions the mist placed

them at an enormous disadvantage, and deprived them of the full

use of their fire power.’

Major-General Cameron, in communicating this message to the Brigadier of

the 146th, added the expression of his ‘great hope, that you will find

that you have sufficient old hands remaining to carry on the spirit which

has animated the 146th Brigade, and infuse it into the new drafts which I

hope to see joining you soon, in order that the name of the 146th Brigade

may live for ever. Please let your Battalions know that I feel deeply

proud of them.’

The Battalion had rejoined its own unit on April 18th. Its casualties

between the 11th and 16th had been eleven Officers and four hundred and

forty-two other ranks.

Noting that Parret Camp, referred to in the above message, lay a mile

and a quarter to the North-west of Kemmel, and that the 1/7th West

Yorkshires were supposed to be already tired out when they marched there

in high fettle in the early hours of April 11th, we return on that date

to the rest of the 146th Brigade. The Group units were established in the

defences of Kemmel Hill, which, though not immediately in the front line,

formed a position, as we are aware, of supreme prospective importance.

The Command was entrusted to Lt.-Col. H. D. Bousfield, of the West

Yorkshire Regiment, a supernumerary Lieutenant-Colonel at the time, who

came under the orders of the 49th Division up to April 13th, of the 19th

Division on that date, and, on April 19th, of the 28th French Infantry

Division. To the final assault on the Hill under its French Commander we

shall presently come back.

This outline-sketch of the activities of units of the 49th Division in

their places in the Valley of the Lys may be supplemented with one or two

details, before we pass to the second and worse phase of the battle in

that area of fire.

Take, for instance, the struggle about Neuve Église, in which the 148th

Brigade bore itself so gallantly, in the grim days, April 12th to 14th.

A glance at the map will show that Neuve Église lies almost midway

between Messines and Steenwerk, but (in a narrow area, of course) some

way to the West of either. Thus, its capture, besides re-acting on the

hard-pressed 34th Division below, would enable the Germans to round back

on the 19th above, where Major-General G. D. Jeffreys would be caught in

the rear. Accordingly, here, as much as anywhere (we should say ‘worse

than elsewhere,’ but no comparison could be sustained), the command to

hold out to the last man was imperative and binding. And right well this

Brigade of the 49th supported the valorous efforts of various bodies of

brave troops, including a mixed lot of a thousand, whom Brigadier-General

Wyatt, formerly Commanding the 1/4th York and Lancs., had collected

from anywhere to do everything. General Wyatt’s old Battalion and a

sister-Battalion in the Brigade, the 1/4th King’s Own Yorkshire Light

Infantry, had already done stiff service in the defence of Neuve Église,

where, on April 13th, the assault broke out again with added fierceness.

At 7 a.m. on that day, the enemy entered the village. At 8-30,

counter-attacks were launched of their own initiative by all available

units of the Brigade, and were pushed with courage and determination.

In this action, Major Jackson, M.C. (of the 458th Field Company, Royal

Engineers), Captain J. F. Wortley, M.C., and Lieut. Gifford, M.C.,

(both of the 1/4th York and Lancs.), were specially mentioned in the

Brigadier’s message to the Battalion. A big bag of prisoners was made,

and the village was cleared of Germans. We are told that, about this time

(the afternoon of April 13th), the Troops were still cheerful and in good

heart, but that the continuous strain and want of sleep were beginning to

tell. Unfortunately, they told in vain. On the night of 13th/14th, the

enemy came on again, and forced a way into the village. Captain Wortley

was killed in an attempt to establish a line about the Church, though

that line was subsequently held by small parties of the 4th York and

Lancs. and of the 9th Highland Light Infantry (Glasgow Highlanders). We

read that ‘these plucky men refused to obey the order to withdraw, and

were eventually cut off completely by the enemy, and there is little

doubt that they died fighting to the last.’ To lose Neuve Église under

such conditions was to win imperishable renown.

Or take a difficult little operation by two Companies of the 1/5th West

Yorkshires (146th Brigade), which was not less difficult because it

proved successful. On the night of April 15th/16th, a partial withdrawal,

as we saw above, was made perforce in the Ypres salient. These two

Companies, under the Command of Major Foxton, were left to hold posts in

the Corps line across the Menin Road about three miles East of Ypres.

They did their job very thoroughly. By moving dummy carrying parties

about the tracks, and keeping six men in the front line, right away till

broad noon on that day, and by other manœuvres, they deceived the enemy

so completely that no approach to our old front line was attempted till

3-30 p.m.

[Illustration: Meteren: Ap: 1918:

Bailleul (Meteren Road) Ap. 1918.]

We need not expand the account of the exploits of the 1/7th West

Yorkshires during their hard days of service with the 62nd Brigade. We

know by now that a situation could be ‘saved,’ in the expressive word

endorsed by General Tudor, only by endurance of a kind corresponding to

the call of the British Commander-in-Chief on the 13th. We prefer to

conclude on a quieter note. These few, casual illustrations of a week’s

fighting, as desperate as it was heroic, for the ultimate safety of the

Channel ports, would convey a false impression if they painted no scene

but ‘death or glory.’ It was hard going all the time, and the conditions

told, as we have seen. But the grit of the Yorkshiremen was not unequal

to the incessant demands. We read nearly always of a cheerful spirit,

of a line which seemed ‘good’ by comparison with other lines which

they had known worse, of refreshing snatches of rest, of the welcome

arrival of the limbered wagons with rations, and similar incidents of

the kind, which helped to ease what had to be endured. We read, too, in

an Officer’s diary, such a characteristic entry as the following: ‘Next

morning, there was light shelling, but about 1-30 p.m. the Boche started

a heavy bombardment, and attacked at 3 o’clock from the South-west. _This

was his usual time-table all through these operations._’ (The italics

are ours). And, again, a page or two later on: ‘The Boche programme

continued: a heavy bombardment 1 p.m.—3 p.m.’ They had taken the measure

of their Boche. It was all very frightful and terrible, and good men were

falling every hour; but frightfulness ‘according to plan,’ as Macbeth

discovered in his day, contains an antiseptic element, which is related

to the sense of humour in the British soldier. If it is too much to say

that this sense would always enhearten him, at least it stood him in good

stead, and even inspired him with good hope, when Hollbeke, Messines,

Ploegsteert, Neuve Église and Bailleul had been left behind the German

front, and the salient round Ypres had been retracted, and the storm was

about to burst on Kemmel Hill.

II.—SECOND PHASE

There were four or five more or less calm days in the sector North of

the Lys. The battle-fury surged a little South on a front from Merville

to Givenchy, extending along the La Bassée Canal, and it broke out afresh

in the Somme Valley, on the slopes just East of Amiens, where the village

of Villers Bretonneux changed hands twice in two days (April 24th,

25th), remaining the second time in British possession. The interval in

the Northern area, though used for rest and re-organization, so far as

circumstances allowed, was less an interval than a breathing-space, in

which both sides were awaiting the call of ‘Time!’ A renewed attack was

obviously impending. The enemy would want to exploit his gains, and to

make that push for Ypres and Dunkirk, which had haunted his day-dreams

for four years. The blow fell on April 25th, at about 5 o’clock in the

morning, when a very violent bombardment along the whole line from

Hollbeke to Bailleul announced the commencement of the second phase of

the sanguinary Battle of the Lys.

If we look once more at the familiar map, we shall see the Allied line

stretching from North-east to South-west. British troops were holding

the line from a point on the Ypres-Commines Canal just above St. Eloi

to a point about a mile below Wytschaete. The 21st Division was on the

Canal, with a composite Brigade of the 39th; the 9th Division held the

Wytschaete Ridge, with three units of the 21st and 49th (chiefly the

146th Infantry Brigade). The rest of the line was French. Immediately

below our 9th Division was the 28th French Division, in Command of the

Kemmel Defences; next below, at Dranoutre, came the 154th, in face of an

enemy assault from Neuve Église. Then came the French 34th, and their

138th at St.-Jans-Cappel. Behind the line, two Brigades of our 49th (the

147th and 148th) were in Corps Reserve in and around Poperinghe, and one

Brigade each of the 30th and 31st were located between Poperinghe and the

front line. Our 25th Division was in Reserve, a little behind the two

Brigades of the 49th.

[Illustration]

Against these worn and weary Troops, so lately withdrawn from the

positions from which they were now to be assailed, and so hardly

re-organized or recruited, the enemy launched nine Divisions, ‘of

which five were fresh Divisions and one other had been but lightly

engaged.’[117] Their direct objective was Kemmel Hill, an important

point of observation in that country of low-lying flats, and important,

too, as a jumping-off place for Ypres; their subsidiary purpose was

to separate the British from the French forces by a flanking movement

below Wytschaete. Accordingly, the weight of the attack fell first on

the French 28th and the British 9th Divisions, with the two Brigades

attached to the latter. Dealing first, with the British sector, we are

not surprised to learn, in Sir A. Conan Doyle’s temperate narrative, that

‘the 9th Division in the north was forced to fall back upon the line

of La Clytte [behind Kemmel], after enduring heavy losses in a combat

lasting nine hours, during which they fought with their usual tenacity,

as did the 64th and 146th Brigades, who fought beside them.’[118] It is

rather the details which surprise us, and help to make this ‘tenacity’

real. At 2-30 a.m. on April 25th, this Brigade of our 49th Division had

to endure a two hours’ bombardment with heavy gas-shells and smoke.

It was followed by half an hour of the greatest intensity with High

Explosives. At 5 o’clock, in the inevitable mist, which enhanced the

difficulty of the defence, the Infantry attack was launched, but was held

on the Brigade front. At 6-45, a Company of the 1/6th West Yorkshires

was reported to be fighting a rearguard action under Captain Sanders,

V.C. This gallant Officer was seen rallying his men from the top of a

pill-box, and, though wounded, he continued firing with his revolver

at point blank range until he fell. No news came from the front line

Companies, but all the evidence goes to show that they fought and died at

their posts. We need not follow the retirement of what was left of these

Battalions, first, to Vierstraat Cross Roads and then to Ouderdom. The

evidence of casualties is more pertinent. In the West Yorkshire Regiment,

on these two days (April 25th, 26th),[119] the 1/5th’s casualties

amounted to eighteen Officers and five hundred and fifty-seven other

ranks; the 1/6th’s to twenty-two and four hundred and sixty-one, and

the 1/7th’s to five and one hundred and thirty-nine respectively. The

Trench Mortar Battery of the Brigade was engaged on Kemmel Hill during

this battle, and none of those in action returned. We may add here, that,

at Ouderdom on April 27th, some Brigade remnants were formed into a

composite Battalion, under Major R. Clough, of the 1/6th West Yorkshires,

and were placed in Divisional Reserve at the call of the 147th Brigade,

the rest being withdrawn into a back area.

Turning now to the action on the French front, and to the German assault

on Kemmel Hill,[120] and observing that St. Eloi and Dranoutre, to the

East and West of the position, fell at an early hour into the enemy’s

hands, we have to record that by 10 a.m. on April 25th Kemmel Village

and Hill had both been lost. It will be recalled from our summary of

this fighting that Lt.-Col. Bousfield, Commanding some units of the 49th

Division (146th Brigade) had been left in Command on Kemmel Hill on

April 11th, and handed over to the French Divisional Commander on the

19th. He and his fellow Yorkshiremen continued the defence till the last

moment with conspicuous courage and devotion. On April 26th, at 3 a.m.,

counter-attacks were made by the French and British in combination, in

which Troops from the 49th Division, attached to the 25th, again bore

themselves gallantly. But the position then was irretrievable, at least

in its main aspects, and the line in the salient was further re-adjusted

during the night of April 26th/27th.

This brief account of a big event (the darkest hour of the Flemish

battle, it has been called) might be extended into the local fighting

which marked the course of the next few days. But an extract from one

Officer’s diary may suffice as a sample of what was happening: we have

trusted his judgment before, and his first and last sentences are

decisive. He writes on April 28th:

‘The Germans were not ready to profit by their success at

Kemmel. During the next three days there was a good deal of

shelling by long-range guns, but no attacks, and the Battalion

[it was in the 148th Brigade] was able to improve the line

greatly, with Lewis gun posts pushed well forward to command

the valley in front. A French cart stranded in No Man’s Land

was found to be full of excellent signalling equipment, which

improved our communications.

‘_29th April._—On April 29th the Germans made what proved to be

their last attempt on the Ypres front. Their plan was to attack

on the whole front from Dranoutre to Voormezeele, and so pierce

the line to the South of the city. A heavy bombardment with

shells of the heaviest calibre opened and continued unceasingly

from 3 a.m. to 4 p.m. It was probably the heaviest bombardment

the Battalion has had to face, and casualties were many,

including some of the finest fighters of the Battalion. At 4,

the Germans attacked. On the 7th Battalion front, where there

was dead ground, the Germans got into the line, and were only

driven out by successive bayonet charges. On the 6th Battalion

front, the forward posts could see the Germans descending

Kemmel, and with Lewis gun and Rifle fire stopped them dead

with great loss. Before dark, the attack had definitely failed

along the line: the Germans had played their last card.’

This conclusion agrees with Sir F. Maurice’s: ‘The gain of Kemmel proved

to be the enemy’s undoing’; and with that of all competent authorities,

reviewing the battles of March and April, 1918, with the knowledge

acquired since the war was ended. Ludendorff could not exploit his

successes, for in no sector was any of them complete. The failure to

break through in the north ‘was hardly less important in its effect on

the campaign than that which the Germans had suffered on March 28th, and

these two triumphs of our defence over the enemy’s attack went far in

preparation for the victories which came later in the year.’[121]

So, the darkest hour gave place to the dawn.

Congratulatory messages, couched in the highest terms, reached the 49th

Division in its time of merited relief.

General Sir Herbert Plumer, Commanding the Second Army, conveyed, on

April 29th, the following message from Field-Marshal Sir Douglas Haig,

Commander-in-Chief of the British Armies:

‘I desire to express my appreciation of the very valuable and

gallant service performed by Troops of the 49th (West Riding)

Division since the entry of the 146th Infantry Brigade into the

Battle of Armentières. The courage and determination shown by

this Division have played no small part in checking the enemy’s

advance, and I wish to convey to General Cameron and to all

Officers and Men under his Command my thanks for all that they

have done.’

On May 2nd, the IXth Corps Commander, Lieut.-General Sir A. Hamilton

Gordon, sent the following message:

‘Heartiest congratulations on the splendid fight you put up on

29th April.’

Throughout this period (April 10th to May 2nd), the 49th Divisional

Artillery had been serving with the 21st Division, and they received from

Major-General Campbell the following letter of thanks:

‘Before handing over Command of the 49th Divisional Artillery,

I wish to express to all ranks my thanks and appreciation of

the excellent work done since it has been under my Command. No

Commander could have been better served in every possible way.

The splendid fighting spirit shown by all ranks has been beyond

all praise.’

We may add here that the 49th Division were no whit less appreciative of

the gallant and efficient help which they had received from C.R.A., 9th

Division, in Command of the following Artillery Brigades: 50th, 51st,

148th, 156th and 162nd R.F.A. Brigades and 30th Heavy Artillery Brigade.

D.D.M.S., XXIInd Corps, wrote to A.D.M.S., 49th Division, to

congratulate him on ‘the extraordinarily efficient manner in which

casualties have been evacuated from your area under the recent trying

conditions. I have never seen the work more speedily and successfully

carried out’; and truly Major-General Cameron might say to his ‘Comrades

of the 49th Division’:

‘The reputation which you have won for courage, determination

and efficiency, during recent operations, has its very joyous

aspect, and it is deeply precious to us all.’

The name of Ypres is inscribed in English history: like Khartoum,

Kandahar, Trafalgar, and other names in older times, it has been adopted

in the title of a British Commander. It belongs, by the same token, to

the 49th Division, whom, twice in the course of the War, in the Spring

of 1915 and of 1918, we have seen defending its trenches or fighting

in the open for its safety, and to whom a Memorial is dedicated on its

site. They had well earned the praises bestowed upon them. To them, with

very gallant comrades, including our Belgian Allies, fell the part of

guarding the approaches to the vital line of the Channel ports. On April

9th, 1918, when the course of the _Kaiser-schlacht_ was diverted from the

Southern to the Northern front, Sir Herbert Plumer’s Second Army formed

our last line of defence in Flanders. That line held at the end of April,

after three weeks’ shattering blows, unsurpassed in impetus and severity;

and, throughout those weeks, the 49th were in the line.

CHAPTER XIV

THE YEOMANRY

The pace was too fast to be kept up. The Germans could not be doing it

all the time, and pauses, lengthening in duration as the fury of the

attacks increased, were bound to be interposed between one onslaught and

the next. Here, again, as on previous occasions, the official German

historians of the war will be able to correct the impression which their

daily bulletins sought to create, and will tell an attentive world how

the desperate courage of the invader broke on the final factor which no

resources of science can permanently disguise—fighting men’s physical

exhaustion.

Such a pause, partly filled, as we shall see, by a transfusion of

bloodshed to another area, occurred at the height of that darkest hour,

which we followed in the last chapter; and, before pursuing our account

of the West Riding Infantry Divisions through the last hundred days of

the war, we may fitly utilize this interval to narrate, necessarily a

little summarily, the fortunes and the disappointments of some of the

West Riding Mounted Troops. For they, too, as Earl Haig has testified,

‘came forward at the beginning of the war to serve their country in the

hour of need,’ and ‘performed their duty under all circumstances with

thoroughness and efficiency.’

These words occur in an Order, dated September 9th, 1917, and addressed

by the Field-Marshal to the 1/1st Yorkshire Hussars Yeomanry. ‘The Army

Council,’ the Order starts, ‘has found it necessary to dismount certain

Special Reserve and Yeomanry Regiments, and to utilize the services

of Officers and other Ranks in other branches of the Service.’ Here

we see the meaning of ‘under all circumstances,’ and the cause of the

disappointments to which we have referred.

That the war was not a Cavalry war, and that its ‘circumstances’ did

not often call for the special faculties furnished by Mounted Troops,

are facts that enhance, rather than diminish, the praise of the

‘thoroughness’ and ‘efficiency’ with which the duties falling on the

Yeomanry were discharged. Officers, N.C.O.’s and men adapted themselves

with conspicuous cheerfulness to the shifting needs of the day’s work,

and became fitted to the uses which were made of them. But no keenness,

military or moral, could turn the war into _their_ war. The war in South

Africa was their war, the next war may be their war again; ‘but the

circumstances of the late war gave them few chances of doing the work

for which they were intended, and their chief claim to credit lies in

the fact, that, whatever work they were given to do, they carried out

to the best of their ability, and to the complete satisfaction of the

authorities under whom they worked.’[122]

How complete that satisfaction was, may be judged by one or two letters,

which we are privileged to quote, and which it is appropriate to produce

in advance of such narrative as may prove available of the miscellaneous

duties which the Yeomanry actually performed. Thus, when ‘B’ Squadron

of the Yorkshire Hussars left the 46th Division in May, 1916 (the

particulars of this move will be found below), Major-General E. J.

Montague Stuart-Wortley wrote to their Commanding Officer, Lieut.-Col. W.

G. Eley:

‘Many thanks for your letter. It was a great blow to me to

find on my return from leave, that your Squadron had left the

Division, and that our very pleasant connection had come to an

end.

‘I can assure you that it has been the greatest pleasure to

me to have had your Squadron under my command; and I should

be very much obliged if you would tell all your Officers,

N.C.O.’s and men how deeply I appreciate all the good work

they have done whilst with this Division. They have frequently

been called upon to do work which was quite outside of what

Cavalry are trained to perform; and on every occasion, they

have carried it out with zeal and efficiency which has been

deserving of all praise.

‘You will be glad to have the whole Regiment together again; I

shall watch all you do with the greatest interest; I know that

all you are called upon to do, will be done well.’

Again, in 1917, when the same Yeomanry Regiment left the XVIIth Corps,

in consequence of the decision of the Army Council, notified in the

Field-Marshal’s Order as above, to dismount them and utilize them ‘in

other branches of the Service,’ Lieut.-General Sir Charles Fergusson,

Bt., Commanding the Corps, wrote to Lieut.-Col. Eley:

‘On the departure of the Regiment from the XVIIth Corps I

wish to express to you and to the Officers and men under your

command my thanks for the loyalty and assistance which has

invariably been given by the Regiment during the period of its

connection with the Corps.

‘Its smartness, discipline, and soldierly spirit have been

conspicuous; and no matter what the work has been, it has

always been carried out in accordance with the best traditions

of the Regiment and of the Service.

‘I know that Officers and men will continue to live up to

these traditions, and that no matter where duty and the service

of the country call them, they will never forget that the

reputation and good name of the Regiment remain in their hands.

Whether as a unit or as individuals the spirit of the Regiment

will remain; and when the time comes for it to be re-united,

the knowledge that they have done their duty under all

circumstances will add to the pride and satisfaction with which

Officers and men will look back to their record in the war.

‘I wish goodbye and good luck to all ranks.’

Again, in 1919, when the Yorkshire Dragoons left the Rhine (these

particulars, too, will be found below), Lieut.-General Sir C. W. Jacob,

K.C.B., Commanding the IInd Corps of the Second Army, addresses the

following letter to Major-General the Earl of Scarbrough, in his capacity

as Hon. Colonel of the Regiment:

‘The Yorkshire Dragoons are leaving very shortly for England

on reduction to cadre, and as you are the Hon. Colonel of

the Regiment, I thought you would like to hear how well the

Regiment has done all the time that it has been with the IInd

Corps.

‘You know that at first the Regiment was split up and its

squadrons distributed among various Divisions. In the early

part of 1916 it was decided to take away from Divisions their

Cavalry Squadrons, and to have a Cavalry Regiment at the

headquarters of every Army Corps. The three squadrons of the

Yorkshire Dragoons were thus brought together and formed into a

Regiment again, and in May, 1916, became the Cavalry Regiment

of the IInd Corps. It was in that month, too, that I took over

command of the IInd Corps.

‘From the time the Yorkshire Dragoons came to the IInd Corps

till hostilities ceased on the 11th November, 1918, their work

has been excellent all through. They have had strenuous times,

but have always shown themselves equal to the occasion.

‘Yorkshire has given many thousands of splendid soldiers to the

British Army, and I place the Yeoman of the Yorkshire Dragoons

high up in the list. They have responded to every call made on

them, and have fought magnificently.

‘In October, 1917, the regiment was taken away from the IInd

Corps for work with the Cavalry Corps. Later on, owing to the

shortage of horses in the army, it was decided to dismount the

Yeomanry Regiments and to turn them into machine-gun or cyclist

units. The Yorkshire Dragoons were formed into a Cyclist

Regiment, and came back to the IInd Corps as such. It was

naturally a disappointment to them to be dismounted, but they

accepted the situation in the right spirit and very soon became

the best cyclist unit in the British Army.

‘I cannot speak too highly of their work in the final phase

of the war, when they took part in the attack from Ypres in

September, 1918, and when the Germans were driven clean out of

Belgium.

‘The Regiment has been fortunate in its Officers. They were

first of all commanded by Lieut.-Col. Mackenzie Smith, D.S.O.,

up to the time they were dismounted. Since then they have

been commanded by Lieut.-Colonel R. Thompson, D.S.O. Both

these officers have been first-class, and I cannot speak too

highly of the latter. Lieut.-Colonel Thompson is a first-rate

leader, and he has been backed up by an excellent lot of junior

officers.

‘I regret very much to have to part with the Regiment, but

their turn for demobilisation has come round. They have earned

the gratitude of their country and county in the way they have

worked and fought all through the war, and have made a name for

themselves which will never be forgotten.’

General Jacob’s letter (May 27th, 1919) epitomizes clearly, six months

after the Armistice, the successive stages of organization through

which the Mounted Troops had passed. Between the lines of the various

decisions therein recorded (‘to take away from the Divisions their

Cavalry Squadrons,’ to take away the Cavalry Regiments from the Corps,

‘to dismount the Yeomanry Regiments and to turn them into machine-gun

or cyclist units’), we may read the meaning of some remarks occurring

in earlier letters: ‘They have frequently been called upon to do work

which was quite outside of what Cavalry are trained to perform’ (General

Stuart-Wortley); ‘No matter what the work has been, it has always been

carried out in accordance with the best traditions of the Regiment and

the Service’ (General Fergusson), and ‘their chief claim to credit lies

in the fact, that, whatever work they were given to do, they carried out

to the best of their ability’ (Col. Mackenzie Smith). The time never

quite came to employ the Cavalry. They never really came into their own.

But it was not till a late period in the war, when the shortage of horses

in the Army and the shrinkage of man-power and shipping at home compelled

the authorities to drastic action, that the repeatedly disappointed hope

of employing them at last in their right capacity was finally abandoned.

Accordingly, their history in the Great War is a history of partially

fulfilled renown, in relation to their pre-war training and to their

anticipations on mobilization. ‘It must be admitted,’ we read, ‘that

the Yorkshire Dragoons never felt either pride or affection for their

bicycles. The one thing to be said for them was that they were more

easily cleaned than horses, and never had to be exercised or fed.’ In

this sense, ‘their chief claim to credit,’ in the words of Lieut.-Col.

Mackenzie Smith,[123] may be stated in the highest terms as a claim

to the credit of subordinating their own desires, and the ambition

appropriate to their Arm of Service, to the needs of the Army and the

Empire as a whole.

We may follow these changes more precisely.

Originally, both Yeomanry Regiments, after coast defence and other work

at home, went out to France as Divisional Cavalry. The Hussars arrived at

Havre in April, 1915, and were posted as follows:

‘A’ Squadron to the 50th (Northumbrian) Division,

‘B’ Squadron to the 46th Division, and

‘C’ Squadron to the 49th (West Riding) Division.

The Dragoons arrived in August, and were posted:

‘A’ Squadron to the 17th Division,

‘B’ Squadron to the 37th Division, and

‘C’ Squadron to the 19th Division,

all in General Plumer’s Second Army, to which, under General Jacob’s

Command, they were to return later on as a Cyclist Corps.

Their time as Divisional Cavalry lasted till May, 1916, but was not

as full as they had hoped. ‘Our work,’ writes an Hussar Officer in a

personal letter, ‘was very miscellaneous. We fetched up remounts, dug

trenches, buried wires, supplied M.M.P. and orderlies to the Divisional

Staff, and observation posts to the Infantry in the front line;’ and

Col. Smith, of the Dragoons, writes in much the same vein: ‘They did

many dull, but arduous and necessary fatigues. But they took an especial

interest in the Divisional observation posts, the management of which

was entrusted to them by the Division,’ and which proved, as he says in

another place, ‘a definite speciality of the Regiment, and earned them

considerable credit.’

The first organic change is explained in a letter from G.H.Q., dated May

2nd, 1916, and addressed to the Third Army Commander. We cite here the

salient extracts:

‘In consequence of the growth of the Army and the development

of the Corps Organisation, much of the independence of action

and movement formerly belonging to the Division has passed

to the Corps. It has been found necessary, therefore, to

reconsider the organization and distribution of the Mounted

Troops hitherto allotted to Divisions.

‘The allotment of these troops was originally made with a view

to providing the Divisional Commander with a small mobile force

under his immediate control for reconnaissance, protective and

escort duties; and on the assumption (originally correct) that

the Division would be moving either independently, or with one

or more roads allotted to its exclusive use.

‘These conditions are unlikely to recur; any future movement

will be by Corps, marching and fighting in depth on a

comparatively narrow front. The mounted troops belonging to the

Corps must, therefore, be assembled under the direct control of

the Corps Commander, and organized as Corps units.

‘The Commander-in-Chief has accordingly decided—

‘(_a_) to convert the Squadrons of Divisional Cavalry into

Corps Cavalry Regiments, composed of a Headquarters and Three

Squadrons each; one Regiment being allotted to each Corps.

‘(_b_) to withdraw the Cyclist Companies from Divisions, to

reconstitute them into Battalions of Three Companies each, and

to allot one Battalion to each Corps.

‘(_c_) to allot one Motor Machine-Gun Battery to each Corps.

This battery will normally be attached to the Cyclist

Battalion.’

The following Table shows how the foregoing provisions were applied to

the Squadrons of Yorkshire Dragoons and Yorkshire Hussars:

-------------------------------------+-----------------+------------

Transferred | From | To

-------------------------------------+----+-----+------+-----+------

Squadron |Div.|Corps| Army |Corps| Army

-------------------------------------+----+-----+------+-----+------

‘A’ Squadron 1/1st Yorkshire Dragoons| 17 | II |Second|⎫ |

H.Q. & ‘B’ Squadron 1/1st Yorkshire | | | |⎪ |

Dragoons | 37 | VII |Third |⎬ II|Second

‘C’ Squadron 1/1st Yorkshire Dragoons| 19 | XI |First |⎭ |

‘A’ Squadron 1/1st Yorkshire Hussars | 50 | V |Second|⎫ |

‘B’ Squadron 1/1st Yorkshire Hussars | 46 | XVII|Third |⎬XVII|Third

‘C’ Squadron 1/1st Yorkshire Hussars | 49 | X |Fourth|⎭ |

-------------------------------------+----+-----+------+-----+------

Thus, the Divisional Cavalry were transferred, and each Corps now

received a Squadron of Cavalry, a Battalion of Cyclists, and a Battery of

Motor Machine-Guns. At this time the training of the Cavalry in France

was inspired mainly by General Gough, who subsequently commanded the

Fifth Army; and the rôle devised for Corps Cavalry Regiments was summed

up, as he said, in the one word ‘“Security”: that is, the protection of

the Infantry with which it is working.’ These were the days, it will

be remembered from earlier chapters of the present volume, in which a

break-through was still hoped for, when the Corps Mounted Troops would

have followed the five Divisions of Regular Cavalry through the ‘gap’

to be made in the German line, and would become immediately responsible

for the protection of the Infantry Reserve and for general Advance Guard

duties.

But events did not fall out as had been expected. ‘During the summer

and autumn of 1916 there were several occasions,’ we are told, ‘on which

the Higher Command had hopes of a Cavalry situation, ... but these hopes

never materialized.’ The main work of the Regiment in these months—and

very important work it proved—was to maintain observation posts in

forward areas, and it was true that opportunities occurred, and were

seized with gallant alacrity, to win the Military Cross and the Military

Medal for special acts of reconnaissance and daring. In less forward

areas the duties were more laborious, but were not less cheerfully

performed. Traffic control, unloading ammunition trains, helping at

hospitals and burying the dead; the maintenance of communications in

winter mud, when the Infantry were roped together in order to go into

the front line, and casualties by drowning were almost as numerous as

those caused by the enemy: these, with training, and the care of horses,

and the usual Regimental sports, were among the functions substituted in

reality for the purpose cherished by the Corps Cavalry. In March, 1917,

at the time of the German retreat, the IInd Corps Cavalry had the chance,

of which they fully availed themselves, of proving their mettle in

mounted action, and the D.S.O. awarded to Lieut.-Col. Mackenzie Smith was

a recognition of his wise insistence on a constant high level of training

efficiency. The disappointment of his Mounted Troops at Cambrai in

November, 1917, was their final grief before the Order for dismounting.’

We shall not follow in detail the dismounted history either of the

Dragoons or the Hussars in the miscellaneous duties to which they were

called. We may note, however, that, in the battles of 1918, good fighting

work was done by both Regiments, and that, early as October 20th in that

year, Lieut.-Col. Thompson received his D.S.O. as an immediate award, in

recognition of his gallantry at the crossing of the River Lys. General

Jacob’s letter to Lord Scarbrough, quoted on an earlier page, refers

particularly to this Officer, and to the part taken by his cyclists ‘when

the Germans were driven clean out of Belgium.’

So the Yeomanry, too, before war’s end, had their fill of fighting in

the front line, and, alike in honours and casualties, through all the

phases of their experience, as Divisional Cavalry, as Corps Cavalry,

and as Dismounted Troops, they bore themselves with conspicuous bravery

and with not less conspicuous self-sacrifice. They were content to do

the task set before them, when, owing to causes beyond control, they

could not do the task for which they had been trained, and neither in

the West Riding nor beyond it will their splendid record be allowed to

fade. Not inappropriately it happened that the IInd Corps of the Second

Army[124] was chosen to form part of the Army of the Rhine. The Yorkshire

Dragoons were detailed to act as Advance Guard to the Infantry of the

9th, 29th and 41st Divisions; and ‘consequently,’ we read, ‘in most of

the towns and villages through which they passed, they were the first

British troops which the inhabitants saw. The march through Belgium was a

triumphal progress.’

But we must not anticipate the day of triumph, amply as the Yeomen had

contributed to it. The battles of 1918 have still to be won, and we

return at this point to the interval called by exhaustion after the First

Battle of the Lys.

CHAPTER XV

THE LAST HUNDRED DAYS

I.—THE SECOND BATTLE OF THE MARNE

The force of the German onslaughts of March 21st and April 9th, 1918, had

been spent beyond hope of renewal on the fronts in which they occurred.

On the Lys, as, a month earlier, on the Somme, and more necessarily

because of the further month’s exhaustion, time had to be taken to

reorganize, to recuperate, and to recommence; and the time taken by the

enemy was time given to the Allies.

How admirably they employed it in May, June and the first part of July

does not fall within the province of the present chronicler. It happened

that it was not till July 20th that the Territorial Infantry from the

West Riding entered into action since May on any considerable scale.

Accordingly, we may pass over the interval. We may pass over the dispatch

of the IXth Corps, commanded by Sir A. Hamilton Gordon, and consisting

of the 8th, 21st, 25th and 50th Divisions, all of which had had their

full share of fighting, to join the Sixth French Army on the Aisne. The

intention was, to give them a chance of rest in a section unlikely to

be busy; the effect was to give them a worse experience in the sudden

battles about Reims than they had endured on the Somme or on the Lys.

How they acquitted themselves is best told in the noble language of the

French Army Commander, General Maistre, in his farewell letter (July 3rd)

to General Hamilton Gordon:

‘Avec une ténacité, permettez-moi de dire, toute anglaise,

avec les débris de vos divisions décimées, submergées par le

flot ennemi, vous avez reformé, sans vous lasser, des unités

nouvelles que vous avez engagées dans la lutte, et qui nous ont

en fin permis de former la digue où ce flot est venu se briser.

Cela aucun des témoins français ne l’oubliera.’

Immediately after this disaster, which had brought the Germans within

forty miles of Paris, and Paris within range of their ‘freak’ gun,

Marshal Foch withdrew from Flanders his force of about eight Divisions,

and transferred them southwards to the French front. Next, he asked that

four British Divisions might be moved down to the Somme, so as to ensure

the connection between the French and British forces about Amiens; and,

‘after carefully weighing the situation,’ wrote Sir Douglas Haig, ‘I

agreed to this proposal.’ But the Generalissimo’s resources still fell

short of the plans he was maturing. ‘On the 13th July a further request

was received from Marshal Foch that these four British Divisions might

be placed unreservedly at his disposal, and that four other British

Divisions might be dispatched to take their places behind the junction of

the Allied Armies. This request,’ wrote the British Commander-in-Chief,

‘was also agreed to, and the 15th, 34th, 51st and 62nd British Divisions,

constituting the XXIInd Corps, under Command of Lieut.-General Sir H.

Godley, were accordingly sent down to the French front.’[125]

We resume our chronicle, therefore, with the record of the 62nd Division

in the counter-offensive by Marshal Foch, which he launched on July

18th, and which, by repeated hammer-strokes, increasing in strength and

velocity, was to bring the war to its appointed end. Exactly a hundred

days elapsed between July 18th and October 26th, when Ludendorff’s

resignation was accepted, and he left German Army Great Headquarters.

Before resuming it, however, for the space of those hundred days, a

word, though not strictly within our province, may be said about Haig’s

decision on July 15th. We are to recall that the Allies had been defeated

three times in less than four months, and had given up far more ground

than was ever contemplated in the previous winter Councils. A German gun

had found the range of Paris, and might find the range of the Channel

ports. The secrets of the autumn of victory were locked up in the

harvester’s brain; yet he asked for four _plus_ four Divisions to be

moved from the British to the French front. We should leave the matter

there: all the papers have not yet been published; but perhaps we may

quote at this point the reasoned opinion of Major-General Sir F. Maurice:

‘Haig, being responsible to his Government for the safety

of his army and the ports, felt that he must obtain their

concurrence in this last step, though he was quite ready to

take the responsibility upon himself of advising them to

concur. It does honour to Foch, to Mr. Lloyd George and to

Sir Douglas Haig that in this critical time they all agreed.

Both the British Government and the British Commander-in-Chief

supported Foch, decided to back his judgment, and to accept

the danger of weakening the British forces in the north, and

he was thus enabled to mature his plans for the defeat of

Ludendorff.... It required great courage and determination

to make that attack as it was made. The Germans had still a

superiority of more than 250,000 Infantry on the Western front,

and Foch, as well as Mr. Lloyd George and Sir Douglas Haig, had

to take risks.’[126]

So, we march with General Braithwaite’s Yorkshire lads to the Valley of

the Ardre, where for the next ten days (July 20th to 30th) they played a

glorious part in the Second Battle of the Marne, after which there was no

turning back.

The River Ardre rises due south of Reims, in the forest called after

that city. It flows in a north-westerly direction through richly-timbered

and hilly country, which afforded every facility for the cunning nests

of machine-guns in which the enemy excelled. We have two or three

descriptions of the lie of the land from a military point of view. The

valley, we read, ‘is bounded on each side by high ridges and spurs,

the crests of which are heavily wooded: those on the north by the Bois

de Reims, on the south by the Bois de Coutron and the Bois d’Eclisse.

The villages of Marfaux and Chaumuzy in the bottom of the valley, also

the dominating height of the Montagne de Bligny (some seven thousand

yards from the line of departure) afforded the enemy three successive

_points d’appui_ of great strength. These centres of defence were further

strengthened by natural buttresses formed by the hamlets of Cuitron

(North), Espilly, Les Haies and Nappes (South), all perched high up on

the abrupt slopes and spurs running down into the valley below. So steep

are some of these slopes that the light French Tanks (_Chars d’Assaut_)

were unable to operate upon them in places, and the Tanks’ activities

were further restricted by stretches of soft and marshy ground on either

bank of the Ardre. Standing crops in the undulating valley, the vineyards

on the slopes, and the dense woods on the ridges, concealed the hostile

positions from view, whilst sunken roads and banks running at right

angles to the direction of attack provided ready-made positions for a

stubborn defence.’

[Illustration]

In this large, dense wood of summer foliage, on slopes running down to

marshy ground, we are to remember that the ‘stubborn defence’ was now

the business of the Germans. The conditions of the war in the West had

changed in several important aspects. Not merely was the enemy on the

defensive, to the huge enheartenment of the Allied Forces, but this

account of the natural features is necessary because the fighting was now

in the open, and no longer in a too familiar entrenched area. To these

changes in tactics and terrain, at once so novel and so inspiriting, was

added the fresh experience of fighting side by side with new friends.

General Godley’s Corps, we remember, was sent at Marshal Foch’s request

right away from the British northern sector into the area of the French

Command. There it found the 1st Italian Division, the 14th and the

120th French Divisions, and the 1st Colonial French Corps; and we are

told that, in this War of Positions, ‘the transference to a sector with

its natural obstacles, the novel situation of passing through Italian

Troops to attack side by side with our French Allies in the attempt to

oust enemy forces (enjoying all the advantages that the possession of

the initiative and positions of great natural strength would give them)

presented problems to all Arms which had hitherto been met with only

in theory.’ The practical problem of language was the least. Education

authorities will learn with pleasure, though some of their critics may be

surprised, that ‘there were far fewer French Officers with any working

knowledge of English than British Officers with a working knowledge of

French, and French was the language generally used.’ Whether it was the

French of Stratford-atte-Bow, or the French of the British private,

‘Tout-de-suite, and the tooter the sweeter,’ our information does not

reveal; but it is satisfactory to know that the ‘working knowledge’

aimed at in our schools answered a test which experts might not have

satisfied. Of other details, such as entraining and ‘embussing,’ this

is not the place to speak: certain differences in practice were found,

and were solved with good will on both sides. We may add here, in this

list of new conditions, that the 62nd Division now included the 2/4th

Hampshire Regiment, recently arrived in France, and the 1/5th Devons,

lately from Egypt. On August 2nd, Major-General Braithwaite wrote to the

County Territorial Associations at Southampton and Exeter respectively,

to express his high sense of their several distinguished services; and he

wrote at the same time to the Durham Association, in connection with the

9th Durham Light Infantry, the Pioneer Battalion of the Division, to say

that it has been necessary to employ them in this Second Battle of the

Marne as a fighting Battalion, and that ‘they fought magnificently, as

Durham men always do.’

The assembly of the Troops for the battle was not an easy matter.

Long marches were entailed; the roads were strange and crowded; exact

positions on the night of 19th/20th were difficult to ascertain, and

it was not till after daybreak on July 20th that the Brigades were in

position upon the base of departure. Briefly, the River Ardre formed the

dividing-line between Divisions, with the 62nd (West Riding) on the right

and the 51st (Highland) on the left.[127] The two Divisional Headquarters

remained together throughout the operations, an arrangement which

they found of incalculable value. On July 31st, we may note, Generals

Braithwaite and Carter-Campbell exchanged letters, expressing in the most

cordial terms the pleasure each Division had derived from serving side by

side with the other.

A start was made on the right at 8 a.m. on July 20th, under an artillery

barrage, the leading Brigades being the 187th (right) and 185th (left),

with the 186th in Divisional Reserve, to leap-frog and capture the second

objective. As may be judged from the nature of the country and the

advantages offered to its defenders, progress was slow and casualties

were heavy, and the deadly nests of German machine-gunners proved very

stubborn to rout out. Now in one part and now in another, the combined

advance was temporarily held up; small groups went too far forward;

detachments tried to work a way round; till, through the standing grain

or wooded undergrowth, little streams of prisoners trickled out, vocal

witnesses to the prowess of the attackers. It was obvious at the end

of the first day that a part of the Bois de Reims between Courmas and

Cuitron, especially a strong point located on a timbered spur south-west

of the Bois du Petit Champ, would have to be thoroughly cleared before

the operations could be successful, and at 10-30 on July 21st, the 187th

Brigade was detailed for this work. As one result of this day’s heavy

fighting, in which the 9th Durham Light Infantry and the 2/4th York

and Lancs. may particularly be mentioned, the 103rd and 123rd German

Divisions had to be completely withdrawn, and replaced by Regiments of

the 50th German Division. Thus, the 62nd had fought two enemy Divisions

out of the field.

On July 22nd, the capture and clearance of the obstructive Bois du Petit

Champ was entrusted to the 186th Brigade (Brig.-General Burnett), and

was successfully carried out with great dash and initiative by the 5th

Duke of Wellington’s. Initiative, indeed, was the key to a very trying

and tricky situation. The undergrowth in places was found to be as thick

as in a tropical jungle, and machine-gun crews hidden in the thickets

had evidently been trained to fire in the direction of sound. It was

necessary to attack at close range, with casualties increasing as the

range shortened. Two companies of the 5th Devons arrived to reinforce

their Yorkshire comrades, and to assist in capturing a strong point of

eight machine-guns and their garrison. It was a very gallant little

enterprise, in which the front company of the Left Column was surrounded

after hard hand-to-hand fighting, and its position rendered untenable

by the superior numbers of the enemy. Captain Cockhill, M.C., cleverly

withdrew his few remaining men, and two Officers and six other ranks

fought their way out to the posts of the rear company. By nightfall, the

whole of the area was cleared, with the exception of a strong pocket

of the enemy situated in the centre of the wood, and very difficult to

locate, who were captured next day; and this example of a single, small

action in a tight corner of a wood, down south of the long front line,

serves to show with what gallantry and courage the invader was driven out

of France.

The prisoners’ bag of July 22nd was two Officers and two hundred and six

other ranks of the 53rd Infantry Regiment, 50th German Division, together

with forty-one machine-guns. On the 23rd, the clearance of the Bois

enabled progress to be made all along the northern front of the Ardre,

and eight French 75 m.m. guns, recaptured from the enemy, were included

in an excellent day’s haul.

Passing over the intervening period, with its daily tale of prisoners and

gains, though accompanied by very heavy losses, we come to July 28th,

when the 8th West Yorkshire Regiment, supported by the 5th Devons, made a

particularly brilliant assault on the Montagne de Bligny, north-west of

the Bois de Reims. They started at 4 o’clock in the morning, and, aided

by the half-light of a late July dawn, succeeded in reaching the foot of

the steep slopes of the mountain before they attracted hostile fire. This

surprise, combined with the dash displayed by the assaulting Troops, who,

in spite of serious casualties, succeeded in rushing the hill, resulted

in the capture of a position of great tactical importance.

How important, in the opinion of the best judges, may be gathered from

the following extract from the Minutes of the West Riding Territorial

Force Association, held at York on October 28th, 1918:

‘MAJOR CHADWICK asked if any information could be given as to

whether the French Government had awarded the _Croix de Guerre_

to the 8th Battalion, West Yorkshire Regiment (Leeds Rifles).

‘LORD HAREWOOD replied: The _Croix de Guerre_ has been offered

to the Battalion of the Leeds Rifles referred to, but whether

or not the War Office will allow the Battalion to accept it I

do not know.’

The Fifth French Army Commander’s Order on the subject, dated October

16th, was worded as follows:

‘Le 8th Bataillon du West Yorkshire Rgt.

‘Bataillon d’élite; sous le commandement énergique du

Lieutenant-Colonel Norman Ayrton, England, a participé

brillamment aux durs combats du 20 au 30 Juillet, qui ont valu

la conquête de la Vallée de l’Ardre. Le 23 Juillet, 1918, après

s’être frayé un chemin dans les fourres épais du Bois du Petit

Champ, s’est emparé d’une position importante malgré un feu

nourri des mitrailleuses ennemies. Le 28 Juillet, 1918, dans

un brio magnifique, a enlevé la Montagne de Bligny, fortement

défendue des forces ennemies supérieures en nombre, s’y est

maintenu malgré les pertes subies, et les efforts désespérés de

l’adversaire pour reprendre la position.’

It was a great and almost a unique compliment; and, as we shall presently

see, the 8th West Yorkshires enjoyed at a later date another striking

opportunity of proving their gallantry in action.

July 29th, to return to our recital, was a comparatively quiet day.

On the 30th, the 2/5th West Yorks. successfully carried out a small

attack to complete the capture of the Mount Bligny, and, meanwhile, the

remaining Troops of both Divisions had reached their final objectives.

We subjoin the official account of these ten days’ ‘continuous fighting

of a most difficult and trying nature. Throughout this period,’ runs

the statement, ‘steady progress was made, in the face of vigorous and

determined resistance. Marfaux was taken on the 23rd July, and on the

28th July British Troops retook the Montagne de Bligny, which other

British Troops had defended with so much gallantry and success two months

previously. In these operations, throughout which French Artillery and

Tanks rendered invaluable assistance, the 51st and 62nd Divisions took

one thousand two hundred prisoners from seven different German Divisions,

and successfully completed an advance of over four miles.’[128] The total

casualties for the period in the 62nd Division alone amounted to 4,126:

Killed. Wounded. Missing.

Officers 28 108 10

Other Ranks 521 3,063 406

Apart from the victory which was gained, the whole operation, as shown

above, afforded very useful lessons in the new conditions of warfare,

and it was utilized to the full in this sense. Particular attention

may, perhaps, be drawn to the experiment of Machine-Gun Battalions,

which was found to have more than justified the change of system. The

M.G. Battalion of the 62nd Division had now fought in two battles: in a

defensive battle in the previous March, and now in an offensive battle on

the Marne, and the improvement in the Machine-Gun service was estimated

at sixty per cent. at least. Partly, its success might be ascribed to the

fact that the Commanding Officer of the Battalion was not selected for

expert gunnery, but was a good Infantry Officer, with an eye for country,

a knowledge of tactics, and a power of command.

But where all units and Commanders did so well, it is invidious to

select one Arm. We may more fitly close this section of the Second Battle

of the Marne with some extracts from the congratulatory messages earned

by General Braithwaite’s Division. There was, of course, the new fact of

a close _liaison_ between British and French Troops, which caused more

than common punctiliousness in the preparation and dispatch of these

epistles; but the tone is exceptionally cordial, the sentiments are

extraordinarily sincere, and the praises were very thoroughly deserved.

General Bertholot, Commanding the Fifth French Army, published an Order

of the Day, dated July 30th, of which the following is a translation:

‘Now that the XXIInd British Corps has received orders to

leave the Fifth Army, the Army Commander expresses to all the

thanks and admiration which its great deeds, just accomplished,

deserve.

‘On the very day of its arrival, the XXIInd Corps, feeling in

honour bound to take part in the victorious counter-attack,

which had just stopped the enemy’s furious onslaught on the

Marne, and which had begun to hurl him back in disorder towards

the north, by forced marches and with minimum opportunity for

reconnaissance, threw itself with ardour into the battle.

‘By constant efforts, by harrying and driving back the enemy

for ten successive days, it has made itself master of the

Valley of the Ardre, which it has so freely watered with its

blood.

‘Thanks to the heroic courage and proverbial tenacity of the

British, the continued efforts of this brave Army Corps have

not been in vain.

‘Twenty-one Officers and more than one thousand three hundred

other ranks taken prisoners, one hundred and forty machine-guns

and forty guns captured from an enemy, four of whose Divisions

were successively broken and repulsed; the upper Valley of the

Ardre, with its surrounding heights to the north and south

reconquered; such is the record of the British share in the

operations of the Fifth Army.

‘Highlanders, under the Command of General Carter-Campbell,

Commanding the 51st Division; Yorkshire lads, under the

Command of General Braithwaite, Commanding the 62nd Division;

Australian and New Zealand Mounted Troops; all Officers and men

of the XXIInd Army Corps, so brilliantly commanded by General

Sir A. Godley—you have added a glorious page to your history.

‘Marfaux, Chaumuzy, Montagne de Bligny—these famous names may

be inscribed in letters of gold in the annals of your Regiments.

‘Your French comrades will always remember with emotion your

splendid valour and perfect fellowship as fighters.’

It was well and generously said.

The XXIInd Corps Commander specially conveyed through Major-General

Braithwaite his high appreciation of the Divisional Artillery: ‘The

way in which Batteries worked with Battalions, and Brigades with

Brigades of Infantry, in open warfare, must have been a source of

enormous satisfaction to all Officers, Non-Commissioned Officers and

men, and the way in which it was done is worthy of the best traditions

of the Royal Regiment.’ Other letters and orders were published, and the

memory of the Marne was added to that of Bucquoy, Cambrai and Havrincourt

in the tradition of the 62nd Division.

II.—THE FINAL OFFENSIVE.

Events moved quickly from this date, more quickly, indeed, than they

were divined except in the swift mind of the great Marshal, and more

quickly than they can be conveniently followed in a day-to-day narrative

of two Divisions. The greatest battle in all history was planned, and

fought, and won, between August 8th and September 9th, 1918, the period

described by Sir Douglas Haig as ‘the opening of the final British

offensive.’ It is the word ‘final’ which signifies. So definite, in

fact, was the issue, that Ludendorff described August 8th as ‘the black

day of the German Army in the history of this war,’ and proffered his

resignation a few days later. This was not accepted at the time, but at a

Council held on August 14th he expounded the situation to the Kaiser and

to the ruling German statesmen, with the result that Prince Max of Baden

was subsequently appointed Imperial Chancellor with a view to paving

the road to peace. These developments, not quite obscurely hinted at in

a Note issued by Sir Douglas Haig on the eve of the Battle of Bapaume

(August 21st to September 1st), must inevitably dominate our review

of the ‘great series of battles, in which, throughout three months of

continuous fighting, the British Armies advanced without a check from

one victory to another.’[129] The autumn fighting of 1918 differed from

that of previous years, in that there was no fifth winter to the war.

We have not to follow our Divisions over the top of their trenches, and

back again, when the weather failed, into the monotony of trench life.

They did not fully know that they were fighting the last battles: it

would be difficult to fix the exact date when this was revealed even to

Marshal Foch and Sir Douglas Haig. They did not welcome the Armistice

with the joy with which it was acclaimed in London: ‘the news of the

cessation of hostilities was received by the fighting Troops,’ writes

an Officer of the 62nd Division who was ‘in at the kill,’ ‘without any

of the manifestations of excitement that marked the occasion at home’;

it was just an incident of the day’s work, and a sign that the work had

been done well. But an effect of increasing speed, of the accelerated

progress of Titanic forces, directed irresistibly to one end, cannot

but be felt during this period. Amiens was disengaged after August 8th,

partly by a brilliant feint in Flanders, which deceived even the King

of the Belgians. Thiepval Ridge, with its graves of 1916, Pozières,

Martinpuich, Mory (by the 62nd Division) were re-taken in the fourth

week of August, and on August 29th Bapaume fell. On September 1st, the

Australians took Péronne, and Bullecourt and Hendecourt fell the same

day. Meanwhile, the Channel ports were safe at last, for the enemy had no

Troops with which to threaten them, and he partly withdrew and was partly

driven from the Lys salient. Merville, Bailleul, Neuve Église, Kemmel

Hill, Hill 63: all the tragic places of the previous spring were once

more in rightful hands in September. There followed the Battle of the

Scarpe, and the storming of the Drocourt-Quéant Line, by the results of

which, on the British front, in the centre, we were brought right in face

of the main German defences known as the Hindenburg Line. The question

was, whether to attack it now or later. On September 9th, Sir Douglas

Haig had been in London, and had indicated that the end might be near. He

wrote, after weighing all the chances: ‘I was convinced that the British

attack was the essential part of the general scheme, and that the moment

was favourable. Accordingly, I decided to proceed with the attack, and

all preparatory measures were carried out as rapidly and as thoroughly as

possible.’[130] A great month, and a grand decision.

So, we return at this point to the services of the Troops from the West

Riding, and shall fit them in to the concluding battles, where they

occurred.

At the end of August (25th to 27th), the 62nd Division drove the Germans

out of Mory, situated in country which they knew, about four miles north

of Bapaume. Excellent work there was achieved, among other units, by the

2/4th and 5th King’s Own Yorkshire Light Infantry and by the 2/4th York

and Lancs. ‘D’ Company Commander in that Battalion led a charge against

a nasty position in an awkward little hold-up, and personally accounted

for the machine-gun team with his revolver. Many prisoners, including a

Battalion Commander, were captured by the Division in these three days.

There was still hard fighting for the Division before it was withdrawn

for a few days’ rest, and the height of efficiency it had reached

may fitly be judged by a single instance, extracted from the _London

Gazette_, December 26th, 1918. Therein is recorded the award of the

coveted Victoria Cross to Sec.-Lieut. James Palmer Huffam, of the

5th (attached, 2nd) West Riding Regiment (T.F.), in the following

circumstances:

‘For most conspicuous bravery and devotion to duty on August

31st, 1918.

‘With three men he rushed an enemy machine-gun post, and put

it out of action. His post was then heavily attacked, and he

withdrew fighting, carrying back a wounded comrade. Again,

on the night of August 31st, 1918, at St. Servin’s Farm,

accompanied by two men only, he rushed an enemy machine-gun,

capturing eight prisoners and enabling the advance to continue.

Throughout the whole of the fighting from August 29th to

September 1st, 1918, he showed the utmost gallantry.’

Meanwhile, on August 27th, Major-General Walter Braithwaite was appointed

to the Command of the IXth Corps, with the rank of Lieutenant-General,

when a Knight Commandership of the Bath was conferred upon him in

recognition of his services with the 62nd. It will be recalled that

he succeeded Sir James Trotter in Command of the 62nd Division in

December, 1915.[131] He took the Division over to France, and led it with

conspicuous gallantry till the very eve of its final bout of victory.

His affection for his brave ‘Yorkshire lads’ was fully reciprocated by

his subordinate Officers, Non-Commissioned Officers and men, who were

all sensible of the constant care and fine, soldierly qualities of

their Commander. Sir Walter Braithwaite has taken every opportunity, in

subsequent meetings with, or references to, the Division, to testify

to his pride and pleasure in that office: ‘I look back,’ he wrote to

the Secretary of the West Riding Association (November 3rd, 1918),

‘on the time spent in Command of that heroic Division as one of the

proudest terms of years in my life.... I don’t think I can be accused

of partiality in saying that there is no Division in the B.E.F. with a

prouder record of continued success than the 62nd.’ He was succeeded now

by Major-General Sir R. D. Whigham, K.C.B., D.S.O., who took over at a

most responsible time and who saw the war out and the peace in.

The grand decision referred to above, and concerted early in September

between Marshal Foch and Sir Douglas Haig, found the Division in the

Gomiecourt area, where they had been withdrawn on September 3rd, in order

to rest and train. On the 8th, Lieut.-General Sir J. A. L. Haldane,

Commanding the VIth Corps in the Third Army (General Sir Julian Byng),

called on Major-General Whigham to explain the part to be taken by the

62nd in the impending operations. It was to attack and capture the

village of Havrincourt, and ‘Z’ day was subsequently appointed for

September 12th. We may recall from page 150 above, the first capture of

Havrincourt by this Division on November, 1917. We may recall, too, how

on September 9th, 1919, almost on the anniversary of its second capture,

it was announced at a Divisional Dinner that a Memorial to the Division

was to be erected in Havrincourt Park. We are now to see how it was won

on the second occasion.

There was this difference between the second and the first. In the

battle of 1917, the break-through on the Cambrai front did not close with

a permanent advance. Owing partly, as we now know, to the diversion of

some Divisions to Italy, the brilliant design, so courageously supported,

could not be completely carried out. This time, there was no going back.

It was the Hindenburg Line which was to be captured, on the road from the

River Marne to the River Meuse.

[Illustration]

The Hindenburg Line, so called by our Troops, was neither Hindenburg nor

a Line. As described and pictured by great generals,[132] it consisted

of a series of defences, including many defended villages, and forming

a belt, or fortified area, varying in depth from seven to ten thousand

yards. It stretched from Lille to Metz, and among its extensions, or

switches, was the famous ‘Drocourt-Quéant Switch,’ which had held up our

advance more than once. Within this system of barriers, running through

a stratum of deep cuttings, the enemy had prepared elaborate dug-outs,

shelters, and gun-emplacements, all heavily fortified and wired. The

luxurious appointments of some of them, which so much astonished

beholders, need not detain us here. The importance of these extraordinary

entrenchments to their assailants in the autumn of 1918 lay, first, in

their genuine strength, to which German engineers had devoted all the

ingenuity of their craft, and, next, in the almost legendary awe with

which time and sentiment had invested them. This effect was carried out

in their native names. Working from north-west to south-east, they were

known in the German Army and behind it as Wotan, Siegfried (supported by

Herrmann), Hundung (Hagen), Brunehilde (Freya), Kriemhilde and Michel;

and we may well believe that, at the back of the front, until such time

as the front broke, German opinion was obstinately convinced that their

tutelary heroes must protect the Fatherland from invasion.

It was the task of the 62nd Division to break into this line through

Havrincourt, and, by breaking it, to shatter the illusion. For, at last,

on the Western front, we were fighting not only positions but ideas.