we dragged through the hot, fly-pestered days and cold, drafty,
vermin-infested nights of September and early October. By the middle of
October, 1915, disease and scarcity of water had depleted our ranks;
instead of having four days on the firing-line and eight days' rest, we
were holding the firing-line eight days and resting only four. In my
platoon, of the six non-commissioned officers who started with us, only
two corporals were left, I and one other. For a week after he had been
ordered by the doctor to leave the peninsula the other chap hung on,
pluckily determined not to leave me alone, although staying meant
keeping awake nearly all night. By this time dysentery and enteric had
taken toll of more men than bullets. These diseases became epidemic
until the clearing-stations and the beaches were choked with sick. The
time we should have been sleeping was spent in digging, but still the
men worked uncomplainingly. Some, too game to quit, would not report to
the doctor, working on courageously until they dropped, although down in
the bay beckoned the Red Cross of the hospital-ship, with its assurance
of safety, rest, and cleanliness. By sickness and snipers' bullets we
lost thirty men a day. Every day the sun poured down relentlessly,
adding to the torment of parched throats and tongues. Every night,
doubly cold in comparison with the day's burning heat, found us chilled
and shivering.
[Sidenote: The wounded considered lucky.]
Nobody in the front-line trenches or on the shell-swept area behind ever
expected to leave the peninsula alive. Their one hope was to get off
wounded. Every night men leaving the trenches to bring up rations from
the beach shook hands with their comrades. From every ration party of
twenty men we always counted on losing two. Those who were wounded were
looked on as lucky. The best thing we could wish a man was a "cushy
wound," one that would not prove fatal. But no one wanted to quit. Every
day rumors flew through the trenches that in four days all the Turks
would surrender. Men dying from dysentery and enteric lingered to see
it, but the surrender never materialized.
[Sidenote: Faith in Australians.]
We knew that in the particular section of trench held by us an advance
was hopeless. Still, we thought that some other parts of the line might
advance. There was always faith in the invincible Australasians. Early
in October, 1915, had come the news of the British advance at Loos. The
report that reached us said that the enemy on the entire Western front
had begun to retreat. The Australians, catching the Turks napping, took
two lines of trenches.
[Sidenote: The man who stood on a bomb.]
By the time I left, the sordid monotony had begun to tell on the men.
Every day officers were besieged with requests for permission to go out
between the lines to locate snipers. When men were wanted for night
patrol every one volunteered. Ration parties, which had formerly been a
dread, were now an eagerly sought variation. Any change was welcome. The
thought of being killed had lost its fear. Daily intercourse with death
had robbed it of its horror. One chap had his leg blown off from
standing on a bomb. Later, in hospital, he told me that he felt
satisfied. He had always wondered what would happen if a man stood on a
bomb; now he knew. It illustrates how the men hated the deadly sameness.
Anything was better than waiting in the trenches, better than being
killed without a chance to struggle.
[Sidenote: Donnelly's post on Caribou Ridge.]
The men our regiment lost, although they gladly fought a hopeless fight,
have not died in vain; the foremost advance on the Suvla Bay front,
Donnelly's Post on Caribou Ridge, was made by Newfoundlanders. It is
called Donnelly's Post because it is here that Lieutenant Donnelly won
his military cross. The hitherto nameless ridge from which the Turkish
machine-guns poured their concentrated death into our trenches stands
as a monument to the initiative of the Newfoundlanders. It is now
Caribou Ridge as a recognition of the men who wear the deer's-head
badge.
[Sidenote: Swept by machine-guns.]
From Caribou Ridge the Turks could enfilade parts of our firing-line.
For weeks they had continued to pick off our men one by one. You could
almost tell when your turn was coming. I know, because from Caribou
Ridge came the bullet that sent me off the peninsula. The machine-guns
on Caribou Ridge not only swept parts of our trench, but commanded all
of the intervening ground. Several attempts had been made to rush those
guns. All had failed, held up by the murderous machine-gun fire. Under
cover of darkness, Lieutenant Donnelly, with only eight men, surprised
the Turks in the post that now bears his name. The captured machine-gun
he used to repulse constantly launched bomb and rifle attacks.
[Sidenote: How Donnelly surprised the Turks.]
[Sidenote: Deeds of great heroism.]
Just at dusk one evening Donnelly stole out to Caribou Ridge and
surprised the Turks. All night the Turks strove to recover their lost
ground. Darkness was the Newfoundlanders' ally. When reinforcements
arrived, Donnelly's eight men were reduced to two. Dawn showed the havoc
wrought by the gallant little group. The ground in front of the post was
a shambles of piled-up Turkish corpses. But daylight showed something
more to the credit of the Newfoundlanders than the mere taking of the
ridge. It showed one of Donnelly's men, Jack Hynes, who had crawled away
from his companion to a point about two hundred yards to the left. From
here he had all alone kept up through the whole night a rapid fire on
the enemy's flank that duped them into believing that we had men there
in force. It showed Hynes purposely falling back over exposed ground to
draw the enemy's attention from Sergeant Greene, who was coolly making
trip after trip between the ridge and our lines, carrying a wounded man
in his arms every time until all our wounded were in safety. Hynes and
Greene were each given a distinguished-conduct medal. None was ever more
nobly earned.
One Saturday morning near the end of October, 1915, the brigade major
passed through our lines. Before we took over the trench the occupants
of the firing-line threw their refuse over the parapet into the short
underbrush. Since coming in we had made a dump for it. I was sent out
with five men to remove the rubbish from the underbrush to the dump, and
this despite the fact that a short distance to our right we had just
lost two men sent over the parapet in broad daylight to pick up some
cans.
[Sidenote: The writer is wounded.]
About nine in the morning we started. It was about half-an-hour's work.
There was no cover for men standing. The small bushes hid men lying or
sitting. Every little while I gave the men a rest, making them sit in
the shelter of the underbrush. We had almost finished when the snipers
somewhere on our left began to bang at us. I ordered the men to cover,
and was just pointing out a likely place to young Hynes when I felt a
dull thud in the left shoulder-blade and a sharp pain in my chest. Then
came a drowsy, languid feeling, and I sank down first on my knees, then
my head dropped over on my chest, and down I went like a Mohammedan
saying his prayers. Connecting the hit in the back with the pain in my
chest, I concluded that I was done for, and can distinctly remember
thinking quite calmly that I was indeed fortunate to be conscious long
enough to tell them what to do about my will and so forth. I tried to
say, "I'm hit," and must have succeeded, because immediately I heard my
henchman Hynes yell with a frenzied oath: "The corporal's struck! Can't
you see the corporal's struck?" and heard him curse the Turk. Then I
heard the others say, "We must get him in out of this." After that I was
quite clear-headed, and when three or four of the finest boys that ever
stepped risked their lives to come out over the parapet under fire, I
was able to tell them how to lift me, and when the stretcher-bearers
arrived to give me first aid I was conscious enough to tell them where
to look for the wound. Also I became angry at the crowd who gathered
around to watch the dressing and make remarks about the amount of blood.
I asked them if they thought it was a nickel-show. This when I felt
almost certain I was dying. I don't remember even feeling relieved when
they told me the bullet had not gone through my heart.
[Sidenote: Hospital at Alexandria.]
That night I was put on board a hospital-ship, and a few days later I
was in hospital at Alexandria.
[Sidenote: The rear-guard action.]
The night the First Newfoundland Regiment landed in Suvla Bay there were
about eleven hundred of us. In December, 1915, when the British forces
evacuated Gallipoli, to the remnant of our regiment fell the honor of
fighting the rear-guard action. This is the highest recognition a
regiment can receive; for the duty of the rear-guard in a retreat is to
keep the enemy from reaching the main body of troops, even if this means
annihilation for itself. At Lemnos island the next day, when the roll
was called, of the eleven hundred men who landed when I did, only one
hundred and seventy-one answered "Here."
* * * * *
The German armies, following the Great Retreat from the Marne to the
Aisne, and after the series of mighty struggles which make up the Battle
of the Aisne, and the attempts to win the Channel ports, continued the
efforts to break through the British and French lines. The British held
the strong line of Ypres, and in March made gains at Neuve Chapelle. In
April the Germans made a desperate effort to break through at Ypres.
There followed the Second Battle of Ypres, terrific in itself, but
especially notable because of the first employment by the Germans of
poisonous gas.
GAS: SECOND BATTLE OF YPRES
COL. E. D. SWINTON
[Sidenote: Second Battle of Ypres.]
Since the last summary there has been a sudden development in the
situation on our front, and very heavy fighting has taken place to the
north and northeast of Ypres, which can be said to have assumed the
importance of a second battle for that town. With the aid of a method of
warfare up to now never employed by nations sufficiently civilized to
consider themselves bound by international agreements solemnly ratified
by themselves, and favored by the atmospheric conditions, the Germans
have put into effect an attack which they have evidently contemplated
and prepared for some time.
Before the battle began our line in this quarter ran from the
cross-roads at Broodseinde, east of Zonnebeke on the Ypres-Moorslede
Road to the cross-roads half a mile north of St. Julien, on the
Ypres-Poelcapelle Road, roughly following the crest of what is known as
the Grafenstafel Ridge. The French prolonged the line west of the
Ypres-Poelcapelle Road, whence their trenches ran around the north of
Langemarck to Steenstraate on the Yperlee Canal. The area covered by the
initial attack is that between the canal and the Ypres-Poelcapelle Road,
though it was afterward extended to the west of the canal and to the
east of the road.
[Sidenote: Germans plan a gas attack.]
An effort on the part of the Germans in this direction was not
unexpected, since movements of troops and transport behind their front
line had been detected for some days. Its peculiar and novel nature,
however, was a surprise which was largely responsible for the measure of
success achieved. Taking advantage of the fact that at this season of
the year the wind not infrequently blows from the north, they secretly
brought up apparatus for emitting asphyxiating vapor or gas, and
distributed it along the section of their front line opposite that of
our allies, west of Langemarck, which faced almost due north. Their plan
was to make a sudden onslaught southwestward, which, if successful,
might enable them to gain the crossings on the canal south of Bixschoote
and place them well behind the British left in a position to threaten
Ypres.
The attack was originally fixed for Tuesday, the 20th, but since all
chances of success depended on the action of the asphyxiating vapor it
was postponed, the weather being unfavorable. On Thursday, the 22d, the
wind blew steadily from the north, and that afternoon, all being ready,
the Germans put their plan into execution. Since then events have moved
so rapidly and the situation has moved so frequently that it is
difficult to give a consecutive and clear story of what happened, but
the following account represents as nearly as can be the general course
of events. The details of the gas apparatus employed by them are given
separately, as also those of the asphyxiating grenades, bombs, and
shells of which they have been throwing hundreds.
[Sidenote: The first gas battle in war.]
At some time between 4 and 5 p.m. the Germans started operations by
releasing gases with the result that a cloud of poisonous vapor rolled
swiftly before the wind from their trenches toward those of the French
west of Langemarck, held by a portion of the French Colonial Division.
Allowing sufficient time for the fumes to take full effect on the troops
facing them, the Germans charged forward over the practically
unresisting enemy in their immediate front, and, penetrating through the
gap thus created, pressed on silently and swiftly to the south and west.
By their sudden irruption they were able to overrun and surprise a large
proportion of the French troops billeted behind the front line in this
area and to bring some of the French guns as well as our own under a hot
rifle fire at close range.
The first intimation that all was not well to the north was conveyed to
our troops holding the left of the British line between 5 and 6 p.m. by
the withdrawal of some of the French Colonials and the sight of the wall
of vapor following them. Our flank being thus exposed the troops were
ordered to retire on St. Julien, with their left parallel to but to the
west of the high road. The splendid resistance of these troops, who
saved the situation, has already been mentioned by the Commander in
Chief.
[Sidenote: Bombardment by shell and gas projectiles.]
Meanwhile, apparently waiting till their infantry had penetrated well
behind the Allies' line, the Germans had opened a hot artillery fire
upon the various tactical points to the north of Ypres, the bombardment
being carried out with ordinary high-explosive shell and shrapnel of
various calibres and also with projectiles containing asphyxiating gas.
About this period our men in reserve near Ypres, seeing the shells
bursting, had gathered in groups, discussing the situation and
questioning some scattered bodies of Turcos who had appeared; suddenly a
staff officer rode up shouting "Stand to your arms," and in a few
minutes the troops had fallen in and were marching northward to the
scene of the fight.
Nothing more impressive can be imagined than the sight of our men
falling in quietly in perfect order on their alarm posts amid the scene
of wild confusion caused by the panic-stricken refugees who swarmed
along the roads.
[Sidenote: Steadiness of the British.]
In the meantime, to the north and northeast of the town, a confused
fight was taking place, which gave proof not only of great gallantry and
steadiness on the part of the troops referred to above, but of
remarkable presence of mind on the part of their leaders. Behind the
wall of vapor, which had swept across fields, through woods, and over
hedgerows, came the German firing line, the men's mouths and noses, it
is stated, protected by pads soaked in a solution of bicarbonate of
soda. Closely following them again came the supports. These troops,
hurrying forward with their formation somewhat broken up by the
obstacles encountered in their path, looked like a huge mob bearing down
upon the town. A battery of 4.7-inch guns a little beyond the left of
our line was surprised and overwhelmed by them in a moment. Further to
the rear and in a more easterly direction were several field batteries,
and before they could come into action the Germans were within a few
hundred yards. Not a gun, however, was lost.
[Sidenote: The left retires slowly.]
One battery, taken in flank, swung around, fired on the enemy at
point-blank range, and checked the rush. Another opened fire with the
guns pointing in almost opposite directions, the enemy being on three
sides of them. It was under the very heavy cannonade opened about this
time by the Germans, and threatened by the advance of vastly superior
numbers, that our infantry on our left steadily, and without any sign of
confusion, slowly retired to St. Julien, fighting every step.
[Sidenote: British reserves arrive.]
Help was not long in arriving, for some of our reserves near Ypres had
stood to arms as soon as they were aware of the fact that the French
line had been forced, and the officers on their own initiative, without
waiting for orders, led them forward to meet the advancing enemy, who,
by this time, were barely two miles from the town. These battalions
attacked the Germans with the bayonet, and then ensued a melee, in which
our men more than held their own, both sides losing very heavily.
One German battalion seems to have been especially severely handled, the
Colonel being captured among several other prisoners. Other
reinforcements were thrown in as they came up, and, when night fell, the
fighting continued by moonlight, our troops driving back the enemy by
repeated bayonet charges, in the course of which our heavy guns were
recaptured.
[Sidenote: Germans cross the canal.]
By then the situation was somewhat restored in the area immediately
north of Ypres. Further to the west, however, the enemy had forced their
way over the canal, occupying Steenstraate and the crossing at Het Sast,
about three-quarters of a mile south of the former place, and had
established themselves at various points on the west bank. All night
long the shelling continued, and about 1.30 a.m. two heavy attacks were
made on our line in the neighborhood of Broodseinde, east of Zonnebeke.
These were both repulsed. The bombardment of Ypres itself and its
neighborhood had by now redoubled in intensity and a part of the town
was in flames.
In the early morning of Friday, the 23d, we delivered a strong
counter-attack northward in co-operation with the French. Our advance
progressed for some little distance, reaching the edge of the wood about
half a mile west of St. Julien and penetrating it. Here our men got into
the Germans with the bayonet, and the latter suffered heavily. The
losses were also severe on our side, for the advance had to be carried
out across the open. But in spite of this nothing could exceed the dash
with which it was conducted. One man--and his case is typical of the
spirit shown by the troops--who had had his rifle smashed by a bullet,
continued to fight with an intrenching tool. Even many of the wounded
made their way out of the fight with some article of German equipment as
a memento.
[Sidenote: The British intrench.]
About 11 a.m., not being able to progress further, our troops dug
themselves in, the line then running from St. Julien practically due
west for about a mile, whence it curved southwestward before turning
north to the canal near Boesinghe. Broadly speaking, on the section of
the front then occupied by us the result of the operations had been to
remove to some extent the wedge which the Germans had driven into the
allied line, and the immediate danger was over.
During the afternoon our counter-attack made further progress south of
Pilkem, thus straightening the line still more. Along the canal the
fighting raged fiercely, our allies making some progress here and there.
During the night, however, the Germans captured Lizerne, a village on
the main road from Ypres to Steenstraate.
[Sidenote: The enemy throws bridges across the canal.]
When the morning of the 24th came the situation remained much the same,
but the enemy, who had thrown several bridges across the canal,
continued to gain ground to the west. On our front the Germans, under
cover of their gas, made a further attack between 3 and 4 a.m. to the
east of St. Julien and forced back a portion of our line. Nothing else
in particular occurred until about midday, when large bodies of the
enemy were seen advancing down the Ypres-Poelcapelle road toward St.
Julien. Soon after a very strong attack developed against that village
and the section of the line east of it.
[Sidenote: A French counter-attack.]
Under the pressure of these fresh masses our troops were compelled to
fall back, contesting every inch of ground and making repeated
counter-attacks; but until late at night a gallant handful, some 200 to
300 strong, held out in St. Julien. During the night the line was
re-established north of the hamlet of Fortuin, about 700 yards further
to the rear. All this time the fighting along the canal continued, the
enemy forcing their way across near Boesinghe, and holding Het Sase,
Steenstraate, and Lizerne strongly. The French counter-attacked in the
afternoon, captured fifty prisoners, and made some further progress
toward Pilkem. The Germans, however, were still holding the west bank
firmly, although the Belgian artillery had broken the bridge behind them
at Steenstraate.
[Sidenote: German assaults on Broodseinde.]
On the morning of Sunday, the fourth day of the battle, we made a strong
counter-attack on St. Julien, which gained some ground but was checked
in front of the village. To the west of it we reached a point a few
hundred yards south of the wood which had been the objective on the 23d
and which we had had to relinquish subsequently. In the afternoon the
Germans made repeated assaults in great strength on our line near
Broodseinde. These were backed up by a tremendous artillery bombardment
under the throwing of asphyxiating bombs; but all were beaten off with
great slaughter to the enemy, and forty-five prisoners fell into our
hands. When night came the situation remained unchanged.
This determined offensive on the part of the enemy, although it has
menaced Ypres itself, has not so far the appearance of a great effort to
break the line and capture the Channel ports. Its initial success was
gained by the surprise rendered possible by the use of a device which
Germany pledged herself not to employ.
[Illustration: THE GAS BATTLE OF YPRES]
THE CANADIANS AT YPRES
BY THE CANADIAN RECORD OFFICER
[Sidenote: Position of the Canadian Division.]
On April 22 the Canadian Division held a line of, roughly, 5,000 yards,
extending in a northwesterly direction from the Ypres-Roulers Railway to
the Ypres-Poelcapelle road, and connecting at its terminus with the
French troops. The division consisted of three infantry brigades, in
addition to the artillery brigades. Of the infantry brigades the First
was in reserve, the Second was on the right, and the Third established
contact with the Allies at the point indicated above.
[Sidenote: The sudden gas attack.]
The day was a peaceful one, warm and sunny, and except that the previous
day had witnessed a further bombardment of the stricken town of Ypres,
everything seemed quiet in front of the Canadian line. At 5 o'clock in
the afternoon a plan, carefully prepared, was put into execution against
our French allies on the left. Asphyxiating gas of great intensity was
projected into their trenches, probably by means of force pumps and
pipes laid out under the parapets. The fumes, aided by a favorable wind,
floated backward, poisoning and disabling over an extended area those
who fell under their effect.
[Sidenote: The French give ground.]
The result was that the French were compelled to give ground for a
considerable distance. The glory which the French Army has won in this
war would make it impertinent to labor the compelling nature of the
poisonous discharges under which the trenches were lost. The French did,
as every one knew they would do, all that stout soldiers could do, and
the Canadian Division, officers and men, look forward to many occasions
in the future in which they will stand side by side with the brave
armies of France.
The immediate consequences of this enforced withdrawal were, of course,
extremely grave. The Third Brigade of the Canadian Division was without
any left, or, in other words, its left was in the air.
[Sidenote: Gap on the Canadian left.]
It became imperatively necessary greatly to extend the Canadian lines to
the left rear. It was not, of course, practicable to move the First
Brigade from reserve at a moment's notice, and the line, extending from
5,000 to 9,000 yards, was naturally not the line that had been held by
the Allies at 5 o'clock, and a gap still existed on its left.
It became necessary for Brigadier General Turner, commanding the Third
Brigade, to throw back his left flank southward to protect his rear.
In the course of the confusion which followed upon the readjustments of
position, the enemy, who had advanced rapidly after his initial
successes, took four British 4.7 guns in a small wood to the west of the
village of St. Julien, two miles in the rear of the original French
trenches.
[Sidenote: Heroism of the Canadian Division.]