CHAPTER VII

SNIPER'S BARN

Just as streets and roads must have their names, so must all trenches

have official designations. This applies also to localities, farms,

cross-roads, woods and such places which have no "regular" names or

which possess Flemish or French names difficult of pronunciation by

the soldiers.

Front-line trenches are usually designated by letters or numbers,

running in regular order, from right to left in each sector. Certain

important points may have special names. Communication trenches are

always given distinctive names. Probably the majority of these names

are those of prominent streets and roads in England, especially in

London. At Messines we had "Surrey Lane," "Stanley Road" and "Plum

Avenue" for communication trenches, while our front line embraced the

whole series of "C" trenches. During the winter we occupied the "N"

and "O" front-line trenches, while our communication trenches bore

such names as "Poppy Lane," "Bois Carré" (afterward called "Chicory

Trench" because it ran through a chicory field), and the "P. & O." so

named because it entered the front line at the junction of the "O" and

"P" trenches and P. & O. is so much easier to say than O. & P. At St.

Eloi, "Convent Lane" and "Queen Victoria Street" were examples of the

communication trenches, while the front-line positions were designated

by numbers, as elsewhere explained. Originally, they were called the

"O" and "R" trenches. Opposite Hill 60 (so named because it is sixty

meters above sea level), the numbering method was continued in the

front line, while the communication trenches included "Petticoat

Lane," "Fleet Street" and "Rat Alley." At various places along the

lines you would find "Marble Arch," "Highgate," "Piccadilly Circus,"

and so on.

Supporting points were generally designated as "S. P. 7" (or other

number), or as "Redoubts" with identifying names. In one place we had

the "Southern, Eastern and Western" redoubts along the edges of a

certain wood.

_WYTSCHAETE MAP_.

_The reproduction on the opposite page is a section from the map

known as Wytschaete. Here are Shelley Farm, White Horse Cellars

and St. Eloi, with the British front line shown by faint dashes,

crossing the road that runs through White Horse Cellars, at

figure 2. The German trenches, indicated by irregular black

lines, are close to the British front at this point, but run

sharply away down to Piccadilly Farm and beyond on the left. The

trenches on this map are corrected to February 20th_, 1916.

_Sniper's Barn that figures so thrillingly in Captain McBride's

experiences is shown at the extreme left of the map, only the

word Barn appearing._

[Illustration: Wytschaete Map]

Sometimes the original Flemish names were retained for the farms,

châteaux and cross-roads, but more often they would be Anglicized by

our map makers. Thus we had "Moated Grange," "Bus House," "Shelley

Farm," "Beggar's Rest," "Dead Dog Farm," "Sniper's Barn," "Captain's

Post," "Maple Copse," the "White Château" and the "Red Château," "Dead

Horse Corner," "White Horse Cellars" and so on, indefinitely.

"Scottish Wood" was so named for the London Scottish who made a famous

charge there in the early part of the war. Hallebast Corner was

changed by the soldier to "Hell-blast" Corner, just as Ypres became

"Wipers" and Ploegstert was translated into "Plugstreet." As to the

estaminets, (drinking places), while many retained their original

names, such as "Pomme d'Or," "Repos aux Voyageurs" or "Herberg in der

Kruisstraat," such names as "The Pig & Whistle" and "Cheshire Cheese"

were not uncommon.

"Shrapnel Corners" and "Suicide Corners" were numerous and had merely

a local significance. The names are self-explanatory. "Gordon Farm,"

where the Gordon Highlanders had stopped for a time, and "School

Farm," where we had a bombing and machine-gun school, were other

examples. "Hyde Park Corner," afterward changed to "Canada Corner,"

was an important junction point of the roads back of our lines.

"Bedford House" was a name given to a château which the Bedfords once

occupied. It would require a large book to enumerate them all.

Our line was at the exact spot where the Princess Pat's first went

into action and several of them were buried in our trenches, together

with many others, both French and English. In fact, it was difficult

to dig anywhere for earth to fill sand-bags without uncovering bodies.

The whole place was nothing more nor less than one continuous grave.

There were a great many crosses, put up by comrades, giving name, date

and organization, but hundreds had no mark other than the cross,

sometimes inscribed "an unknown soldier," but more often unmarked.

Here one of our sergeants found the grave of his brother, who had been

serving in the King's Royal Rifles and I noticed another cross near by

marked with the name of Meyers, Indianapolis, Indiana, said to have

been the first man of the Princess Pat's killed in action. There was a

maze of old French and English trenches, some in front of our line and

some behind it and all more or less filled with bodies that had never

been buried. Some of the Indian troops had fought here and had left

many of their number behind. Whenever it was possible, we buried the

bodies, but often they were in such positions that this was impossible

and any attempt to do so would only have resulted in further losses. I

nearly forgot to mention it; but there were plenty of Germans mixed up

with the lot; in one small area, just in front of a farm building,

some five hundred yards in our rear, I found eight of them. Inside the

building was a dead French soldier who, as we figured it out, had

accounted for the eight boches before they got him. This place was

called Sniper's Barn.

While our artillery had been considerably increased, it was still far

below that of the enemy in number or size of guns, and the ammunition

supply was so short that each gun was limited to a very few rounds a

day. It was only during the following summer that the English caught

up with the Germans in artillery. This, naturally, did not tend to

cheer up the men. It was aggravating, to say the least, to have the

other fellow sending over "crumps" without limit, and be able to send

back nothing but six or eight "whizz-bangs." ("Crump" is the general

name for high-explosive shells of from 4.1 up, but the commonest size

is the 5.9 or 150 mm.)

Having been so successful at the strafing at Messines, our Colonel was

anxious that we continue the game here and I was delegated to locate a

good position and "go to it." After going over all the ground back of

our lines, I decided to try the experiment of placing the gun in a

small hedge which ran across the lower end of an old garden or

orchard, in front of Sniper's Barn; that is, on the side toward the

enemy. It looked rather foolhardy, at first glance, for the place was

in plain sight from the German lines and only about five hundred yards

away at the nearest point; but I remembered our experience at our

first strafing place and depended on Heinie to jump to the conclusion

that we were in the farm buildings, and devote his attention to them.

It worked; he "ran true to form," as a race horse man would say, and

while we maintained a gun, and sometimes two, in that place for six

months, and the boche shot up the barn regularly during all that time,

there was never a shell, apparently, directed at our position, and

except for an occasional "short," none burst near us.

From there we would shoot, day and night, often, at the first, having

our targets where we could "see 'em fall," a very unusual occurrence

for a machine gunner, save during a general engagement. Of course we

would have to get into the position before daylight and remain until

dark as the way to and from it was exposed to view from "across the

way."

Here we worked out many of the constantly recurring problems which

confront the machine gunner in the field, and which are, as a rule,

overlooked or neglected during the preliminary training. As our own

soldiers will have to contend with the same conditions, I may mention

some of them.

One of the first things we discovered was that while all the

small-arms ammunition issued was made pursuant to uniform

specifications, furnished by the War Office, a large percentage of it

was manufactured in new, hastily equipped factories, by partially

trained workmen, and while it was apparently near enough to the

standard to pass the tests exacted by the inspectors, only an

extremely small proportion would function properly in machine guns or

other automatic arms. A few of the old standard brands, made in

government arsenals or by the prominent, long-established private

manufacturers, could be depended upon at all times, but,

unfortunately, these brands were comparatively scarce and hard to get.

At least seventy-five per cent. of what we received was the product of

the small, new and ill-equipped factories, established under the

press of war demands, and, while it appeared to work satisfactorily in

the ordinary rifles, both Enfield and Ross, it was utterly useless for

machine guns. The difference of a minute fraction of an inch in the

thickness of the "rim" would break extractors as fast as they could be

replaced, while various other irregularities, so small as to be

undiscoverable without the most accurate measurements by delicate

micrometers, would cause stoppages and the breaking of different small

parts. And, at that time, spare parts were almost unknown, so it

required the utmost ingenuity on the part of the gunners to improvise,

with what materials could be found on the spot, and with the very few

tools at hand, many of the small but all-important parts that go to

make up the interior economy of the guns.

All automatically operated firearms are, of necessity, very delicately

balanced mechanisms. Whether gas or recoil operated, there must be

just sufficient power obtained from the firing of one shot to overcome

the normal friction of the working parts, eject the empty cartridge

case, withdraw a new cartridge from the belt or magazine, load it

properly in the chamber and fire it; continuing this action as long as

the trigger, or other firing device, is kept pressed or until the belt

or magazine is emptied. Ammunition which does not give the proper

amount of pressure or cartridges which, through faulty manufacture,

cause an undue amount of friction, either in seating them in the

chamber, withdrawing them from the belt or in removing the fired case,

will not operate the gun properly and will cause "jams." On the other

hand, ammunition which develops too much pressure or creates too

little friction, will cause breakages because of the excess jar and

hammering of the moving parts.

We utilized parts of cream separators, sewing machines, baby

carriages, bicycles and various agricultural implements, found in and

around the old Belgian farms, and it soon became common talk that we

could make every part of a machine gun excepting the barrel. We

learned that there was a certain bolt, a part of the rifle carrier on

the French bicycle, which was an exact duplicate of an important part

of our guns, so, whenever we found one of those old, broken and

abandoned cycles, we would take time to remove this particular part

and carry it along for emergencies. This is but one instance of many.

Then, there was the matter of concealing the flash, when firing at

night. As the position we occupied was in plain view of the enemy

lines, to have fired without some device to prevent the flash being

seen would, inevitably, have resulted in a concentration of fire upon

us which would have rendered the position untenable. We tried many

schemes, from the crude "sand-bag" screen to the most elaborate

devices made in the armorer's shops, while back in billets, and

finally perfected one which was thoroughly satisfactory. I can not

describe it here, as I hope to see it used by our soldiers in France,

but I can say that, out of probably fifty different contrivances made

for the same purpose, this was the only one that "filled the bill"

from every standpoint.

As most of our firing was done at night, it was necessary to improve

the manner of mounting and "laying" the guns as we soon found that the

methods taught at the training schools and the lamps and other

mechanical devices furnished by the authorities were of no use under

actual service conditions.

The various schemes and devices which we originated and elaborated are

at the disposal of the proper military authorities in this country

but, obviously, can not be described here.

The foreign officers, British and French, who are now in this country

acting as instructors and advisers are doing everything in their power

to impress upon our officers and men the necessity for keeping up to

date in all the various and complicated departments of military

training, even to the exclusion of many of the pet ideas of some of

the most accomplished instructors in our service schools. The trouble

with us is that we have not, and never have had, any machine gunners

in the United States Army. By this I mean men skilled in machine

gunnery as applied to present-day warfare. The evolution of

machine-gun tactics is, perhaps, the most outstanding feature of the

whole war. From being, as it was considered four years ago, merely an

emergency weapon or, as the text-book writers were pleased to call it,

"a weapon of opportunity," it has become the most important single

weapon in use in any army, not even excepting the artillery. A

properly directed machine-gun barrage is far more difficult to

traverse than anything the artillery can put down and the combination

of artillery and machine guns, working together, whether on the

offensive or defensive, represents the highest point ever attained in

the effective use of fire in battle.

Our instructors have been technical theorists of the very highest

order, basing their theories and working out their problems on the

experience furnished by previous wars and of course it is difficult

for them to realize that nearly every hypothesis which they have

assumed in working out their theories has been proved false. They can

not believe that "fire control" of infantry, as taught in the school

of fire, has no place in modern trench warfare. It will break the

hearts of some of them to learn that the ability to read a map and

use a prismatic compass is of far more value than knowledge of the

"mil-scale" or "fire-control rule." They will probably be scandalized

by the statement, which I make seriously and with full knowledge

whereof I speak, that one common shovel and an armful of sand-bags are

worth more than all the range-finders that have been or ever will be

bought for the use of machine gunners.

Every foot of ground in France, Belgium and Germany has been so

thoroughly and accurately mapped that there need be no such thing as

estimating ranges. You _know_ the range; you do not have to depend on

mental or mechanical estimates. And, as machine-gun fire is almost

entirely indirect fire, the guns must be laid by using map, compass,

protractor and clinometer (quadrant), in exactly the same manner as

artillery fire is directed. The average machine gunner will probably

go through the whole war without ever seeing a live enemy--excepting

prisoners. The various methods of controlling indirect fire by

resection, base lines and observation from two or more points are,

like the use of an auxiliary aiming point, useless in trench warfare.

They are fine in theory and afford much interesting diversion on the

training ranges, but when you go to war, why, it can't be done, that's

all.

[Illustration: Highlanders with a Maxim Gun]

This is a common, plain, hard-headed business proposition: where the

only idea is to kill as many of the enemy as possible before he kills

you, it has been found that the oldest, crudest and most primitive

methods have, in many cases, proved the most effective for the

attainment of this end.

Never before has it been of such vital importance to train the

individual soldier, whether he be rifleman, bomber, machine gunner or

any other specialist, so that he can "carry on" without the direction

of an officer. The officer must plan everything in advance; he must

look after the health and comfort of his men, see that they are

properly equipped and supplied, must station them in their appointed

positions, make frequent personal inspections and, finally, lead them

in the advance. But in every engagement there comes a time when every

man is "on his own," when it is impossible for the officer, if he be

still living, to direct the action. The idea that an officer can

exercise "fire control" as taught in our service schools, or can

personally direct the fire of a number of machine guns, once the

action has started, is ridiculous. The limits of one man's sphere of

action, at such a time, are extremely small. If the men have been

properly instructed, beforehand, and then given a good start, they

will do the rest. It is just this ability to assimilate individual

instruction that has made the Canadian superior to the native-born

Briton. He is better educated, as a rule, has lived a freer and more

varied life and, as a result, possesses that initiative and individual

ingenuity which are so often necessary at the critical stages of a

fight. We have every reason to expect that the American soldier, for

these same reasons, will prove to be at least the equal of the

Canadian--the finest type of fighting man yet developed by this war.

The Emma Gees · 第 7 / 17 章