A LULL
During the closing days of August events had commenced to move rapidly;
for the offensive activities initiated by the Fourth Army, three weeks
earlier, began to spread in both directions along the Allied front.
The Third British Army had entered the fray on August 21st; the First
British Army was ready with its offensive on August 26th, on which
date the Canadian Corps, restored to its old familiar battleground,
delivered a great attack opposite Arras.
The French, who, on my right flank, had along their front followed up
the enemy retirement begun after the battle of Chuignes, reached Roye
on August 27th, and Noyon on August 28th. Their line, however, still
bore back south-westerly from the vicinity of the river near Brie and
St. Christ.
By August 29th the line of the First Army had reached and passed
Bapaume, and that of the Third Army cut through Combles. The Third
Corps, on my immediate left, had made good its advance as far as
Maurepas.
Thus, the thrust of the Australian Corps beyond the Canal du Nord, on
August 31st to September 3rd, formed the spearhead which pierced the
Somme line, and the Corps was still leading the advance both of the
French and the British.
From the morning of September 4th the evidences of the enemy's
resolution to withdraw to the Hindenburg Line became hourly more
unmistakable. His Artillery fire died down considerably, particularly
that from his long range and high velocity guns. These were probably
already on the move to the rear, in order to clear the roads for his
lighter traffic.
[Illustration: The Hindenburg Line Wire--near Bony.]
[Illustration: The 15-inch Naval Gun--captured at Chuignes, August
23rd, 1918.]
The high ground near Biaches (west of Péronne) provided a vantage point
from which an extensive view of the whole country could be obtained.
There lay before us, beyond the Somme, a belt about eight miles deep,
which had scarcely suffered at all from the ravages of the previous
years of war.
It was gently undulating country, liberally watered, and heavily
wooded, especially in the minor valleys, in which snuggled numerous
villages still almost intact and habitable, although, of course,
entirely deserted by the civilian population.
Beyond this agreeable region there began again an area of devastation,
which grew in awful thoroughness as the great Hindenburg Line was
approached some six miles further on. For, through the autumn and
winter of 1917, and up to the moment of the German offensive in March,
1918, it was there that the British Fifth Army had faced the enemy in
intensive trench fighting.
In all directions over this still habitable belt there were now signs
of unusual life and activity. Columns of smoke began to rise in the
direction of all the villages. Sounds of great explosions rent the air.
These were sure indications that the enemy was burning the stores which
he could not hope to salve, and was destroying his ammunition dumps
lest they should fall into our hands.
A vigorous pursuit was now the policy most to be desired. But my troops
in the line were very tired from the exertions of a great struggle,
and many of the units, by reason of their battle losses, required time
to reorganize and refit. It was also essential that no rapid advance
should be attempted until the arrangements for supply, depending upon
the completion of the Somme crossings, had been assured.
The general line of advance of the Corps had, during August, been in a
due easterly direction. The operations about Péronne had necessitated
a drive north-easterly, and the advance of my Third Division up the
Bouchavesnes spur had carried them square across the line of advance of
the Third Corps.
The first step was to restore our original Corps boundaries, and to
resume the original line of advance. By arrangement with General
Godley, his 74th Division took over the ground captured by my Third
Division, which was thereby released and enabled to concentrate, for a
couple of days' rest, in the Cléry region. The Second Division employed
its 7th Brigade on September 2nd and 3rd to advance our line beyond
Haut Allaines, another two miles east of Mont St. Quentin, routing from
the trenches of that spur the strong rearguards which the enemy had
posted for the purpose of delaying us.
On the night of September 4th the 74th Division took over the Haut
Allaines spur also, thereby releasing my Second Division, and the
latter was withdrawn to the Cappy area for a thorough and well-deserved
rest.
Meanwhile, the 32nd Imperial Division, availing itself of the temporary
crossings which had hastily been effected over the Somme, brought its
front up, on the eastern bank of the river, level with the line which
had by September 4th been reached by the Fifth Australian Division.
On September 5th, therefore, I had, east of the Somme, two Divisions in
the line, the 32nd on the right or south, the Fifth Australian on the
left or north, each operating on a frontage of two Brigades, with one
Brigade in reserve. This was, however, quite a temporary arrangement,
devised merely to allow time for the Third Division to reorganize and
resume its place in the front line of the general advance.
The general withdrawal of the enemy, over a very wide front, now began
to effect a very substantial reduction of the length of frontage which
he had to defend. The enemy communiqués and wireless propaganda of that
time busied themselves with the explanation that the withdrawals in
progress were being deliberately carried out for the very purpose of
releasing forces from the line to form a great strategic reserve.
These protestations did not deceive us, nor did we on our part fail
also to take full advantage of the steady shortenings of the Allied
front. Marshal Foch decided once again to readjust the international
boundary, and my own front was thereby considerably shortened. The
French took over from the 32nd Division all ground south of the main
Amiens--St. Quentin road; and that road henceforth became my southern
boundary.
This, coupled with the readjustment of the northern boundary with the
Third Corps, as already narrated, reduced the total frontage for which
I remained responsible to about ten thousand yards, an extent which
was never again exceeded. It was still, however, in my judgment, too
long a frontage for an effective pursuit by only two Divisions, and
arrangements were initiated on the same day to bring back the Third
Division into line.
During September 5th I advanced my front to the line Athies--Le
Mesnil--Doingt--Bussu. Severe fighting took place near Doingt.
Opposition came mainly from machine guns; but isolated field-guns
also gave us trouble. We captured that day about a hundred and fifty
prisoners.
Next day my Third Division came into the line on the north. I divided
my frontage equally between the three Divisions, placing each on a
single Brigade front. This was, in fact, a repetition of the order of
battle which had carried us so successfully and rapidly up to the Somme.
Each front line Brigade took up the rôle of Advanced Guard to its
Division. The 11th Brigade led the Third Division; the 8th Brigade led
the Fifth Division, while the 97th Brigade covered the 32nd Imperial
Division.
For the first time in the war I found an opportunity of employing
my Corps Cavalry (13th Australian Light Horse) on other than their
habitual duty of carrying despatches, or providing mounted escorts to
convoys of prisoners of war. Here at last was a chance for bold mounted
tactics, as the county was mainly open and free of wire and trenches.
To each Division I therefore allotted a squadron of Light Horse for
vanguard duty, together with detachments of the Australian Cyclist
Battalion. These troops more than justified their employment by
bold, forward reconnaissance, and energetic pressure upon the enemy
rearguards.
So promising, indeed, was the prospect of the useful employment of
cavalry, that I prevailed upon the Army Commander to endeavour to
secure for my use a whole Cavalry Brigade. Brigadier-General Neil Haig
(cousin of the Field Marshal) was actually sent for and placed under
my orders. I duly arranged a plan of action with him, but before the
1st Cavalry Brigade, stationed many miles away, had completed its
long march into my area, the situation had already changed, and the
employment of Cavalry on the Fourth Army front had to be postponed
until a much later date.
A juncture had arrived when it became imperative for me to consider the
possibility of affording some relief to the three line Divisions; all
of them had been fighting without respite since August 27th. The troops
were so tired from want of sleep and physical strain that many of them
could be seen by the roadside, fast asleep. These three Divisions had
almost reached the limits of their endurance.
It was essential, however, that they should be called upon to yield
up the last particle of effort of which they were capable. Every mile
by which they could approach nearer to the Hindenburg defences meant
a saving of effort on the part of the fresh waiting Divisions, whom
I had earmarked for the first stage of our contemplated assault upon
that formidable system; a system which I knew to be too deep to be
overwhelmed in a single operation.
It was for this reason that I was compelled to disregard the evident
signs of overstrain which were brought to my notice by the Divisional
Generals and their Brigadiers, and which were patent to my own
observation of the condition of the troops. I arranged, however, two
measures of immediate relief, the first being to set a definite limit
of time for the further demands to be made upon the line Divisions.
This was fixed for September 10th. The second was to issue orders that
the rate of our further advance was to be controlled by consideration
for the well-being of our own troops, and not by the rate of the
enemy's retreat. If, in consequence, any gap should eventuate, touch
with the enemy was to be kept by the mounted troops and cyclists.
The preliminary steps for effecting the reliefs thus promised for
September 10th were begun on September 5th. The Corps was, as stated,
on a three Division front. I had only two fit Divisions in Corps
Reserve (_i.e._, the First and Fourth), the Second Division being
not yet rested. My representations to the Army Commander on this
matter bore immediate fruit; for he placed under my orders the Sixth
(Imperial) Division (one of the first seven Divisions of the original
Expeditionary Force). Before, however, I could take advantage of
this windfall, the constitution of the Fourth Army underwent a vital
alteration, of which more will be told later.
The First and Fourth Divisions had been resting since August 26th. They
had had time to reorganize their units, to reclothe and refit their
troops, to receive and absorb reinforcements, and to fill vacancies
among leaders. Staffs had been able to deal with a mass of arrears. The
men had enjoyed a pleasant holiday in the now peaceful Somme Valley,
far in rear, a holiday devoted to games and aquatic sports. Horse and
man, alike, were refreshed, and had been inspired by the continued
successes of the remainder of the Corps.
They were however, by now, far in rear; and it was out of the question
to tax their restored energies by calling upon them to march back to
the battle zone. The Fourth Army, as always, extended its sympathetic
help; two motor bus convoys, each capable of dealing with a Brigade
group a day, were speedily materialized from the resources of G.H.Q.
The completion of the moves of these two Divisions from the back area
to within easy marching distance of the battle front therefore occupied
three days. The use of mechanical transport for the execution of troop
movements has now entirely passed the experimental stage, and in future
wars, calculations of time and space will be vitally affected, whenever
an ample supply of lorries or buses and suitable roads are available
for the rapid concentration or dispersal of large bodies of troops.
The Australian soldier is individually philosophic and stoical, but
in the mass he is sensitive to a degree; and he is intelligent enough
to realize how he is used or misused. It was the subject of complaint
among the troops during the earlier years of the war, that while they
were indulgently carried by lorries into the battle at a time when they
were fresh and fit, they were invariably left to march long distances,
out of the battle, when they were on the verge of exhaustion. I
therefore tried, whenever possible, to provide tired troops with the
means of transport to their rest areas, a facility which was always
highly appreciated by them.
By the time the First and Fourth Divisions had thus been assembled in
the forward areas, ready to relieve the Third and Fifth Divisions,
these latter, together with the 32nd Division, had advanced our front
approximately to the line Vermand--Vendelles--Hesbecourt, carrying
it to within three miles of the front line of the Hindenburg defence
system.
There can be no doubt, however, that the rate of our advance, retarded
as it had been for the reasons already explained, had proceeded much
more rapidly than suited the enemy.
A steady stream of prisoners kept pouring in, captured in twos and
threes, all along my front, by my energetic patrols. Numerous machine
guns were taken; and in the vicinity of Roisel, fully three hundred
transport vehicles and much engineering material were captured, which
the enemy had been compelled to abandon in haste.
At this juncture the British High Command arrived at the important
decision to enlarge the Fourth Army, by adding another Corps; doubtless
contemplating the possibility of operations on a large scale against
the Hindenburg defences in the near future.
A new Corps Headquarters, the Ninth, was to be reconstituted under
Lieut.-General Braithwaite, and he was to become my neighbour on my
southern flank, interposed between me and the French. Braithwaite
had been Chief of Staff to Sir Ian Hamilton during the Dardanelles
Expedition, and I had seen much of him there. I was to have the
advantage, therefore, of having old Gallipoli comrades on either flank,
Braithwaite on the south, and Godley on the north.
The immediate result of this decision, which came into effect early on
September 12th, was that the 32nd Division, which had been under my
orders for nearly four weeks, passed over to the Ninth Corps. Lambert,
his Staff and his Division had served me well and efficiently, and I
was sorry to lose them out of my Corps.
With the impending further shortening of my front, I had no
justification for pressing to be permitted to retain this Division. On
the contrary, my representations to General Rawlinson had always been
in favour of shortening my frontage to the effective battle standard
of August 8th, so that the Corps might at any time be in a position to
embark on a major operation, with its whole resources in Artillery and
Infantry concentrated, as on that occasion, upon a relatively narrow
objective. My greatly extended front, and the direct control of the
affairs of six separate Divisions, had been a heavy burden, involving
great and manifold responsibilities.
According to my promises to the remaining two line Divisions, the Fifth
and Third, these were duly relieved on September 10th by the First and
Fourth Divisions, the former on the north, the latter on the south.
Each Division had a frontage of about four thousand yards, but this was
to diminish rapidly, if the advance of the Corps continued, by reason
of the fact that my southern boundary now became the Omignon River,
whose course ran obliquely from the north-east.
While all these changes in dispositions were being effected, there
was breathing time to give attention to a heavy mass of arrears of
work; for there could be no question of undertaking an attack on the
Hindenburg defences without most careful and exhaustive preparation.
For this the time was not yet ripe. It would still take some days to
bring forward the remainder of my heaviest Artillery, to advance the
railheads, to replenish the ammunition depots and supply dumps, and to
re-establish telegraph and telephone communications.
Another good reason for a more leisurely policy on the front of the
Fourth Army lay in the events on other portions of the Allied fronts.
By September 4th the German withdrawal had become general on all fronts.
It had become clear that the enemy's retirement to his former position
of March, 1918, was not to be confined to those fronts on which he had
been receiving such punishment. All evidence pointed to the fact that
his present strategy was to take up as speedily as possible a strong
defensive attitude, behind the great system of field works, which had
already served him so well during 1917, at a time when a considerable
proportion of his military resources was still involved on the Russian
and Roumanian fronts.
His retirement before the First and Third British Armies was proceeding
methodically, and on September 5th the French were crossing the Vesle,
between Rheims and Soissons. All was going well; and those in the
confidence of our High Command knew that, on any day now, news might be
expected of the first great attack to be made by the American Army, to
be directed against the St. Mihiel Salient on the Alsace front.
This latter attack actually opened on September 11th, and it was
clearly sound military policy to wait for a few days, in order
correctly to diagnose the effect of these operations upon the enemy's
distribution of forces.
Information as to the locations and movements of all the enemy
Divisions was in these days voluminous, accurate and speedy. Prisoners
and documents were daily falling into the hands of the Allies over the
whole length of the Western Front. His Divisions in the front line were
identified daily by actual contact. As to those resting or refitting
or in reserve, accurate deductions could be made from the mass of
information at our disposal.
It was at this time that it began to be made clear to us that the
enemy's mobile reserves had been almost completely absorbed into the
front line. One Division after another, particularly among those which
had been engaged against the Australian Corps in August, was being
disbanded. Among these were the 109th, 225th, 233rd, 54th Reserve, and
14th Bavarian Divisions.
The strength of the enemy's remaining Divisions was also rapidly
diminishing. From prisoners we learned that many Battalions now
had only three Companies instead of four, many Regiments only two
Battalions instead of three, and even the Company strengths were at a
low ebb.
We could well afford to approach the immediate future with greater
deliberation.
Since August 8th, the Corps front had already advanced twenty-five
miles, and it was not long before I had to abandon the luxurious
château of the Marquis de Clermont-Tonnere, at Bertangles, whose
spacious halls and spreading parks had formed so pleasant a habitation
for the whole of my Corps Headquarters.
The scale of comfort possible for all senior Commanders and Staffs
rapidly declined as the advance developed. Generals of Corps, Divisions
and Brigades had to be content with living and office quarters in a
steadily descending gradation of convenience. From château to humbler
dwelling house, and thence into bare wooden huts, and later still into
mere holes hollowed out in the sides of quarries or railway cuttings,
were the stages of progress in this downward scale.
My Headquarters moved from Bertangles to a group of village houses at
Glisy on August 13th; thence on August 31st to Méricourt, where the
best had to be made of a derelict, much battered and almost roofless
château, which the Germans had rifled of every stick of furniture, and
even of all doors and windows, in order to equip a large collection of
dug-outs in a neighbouring hill-side.
Again on September 8th I moved into the very centre of the devastated
area lying in the Somme bend, on to a small rise near Assevillers,
where a number of tiny wooden huts served us as bedrooms by night and
offices by day. Only one hut, more pretentiously brick-walled and
evidently built for the use of some German officer of high rank, was
available to fulfil the duties of hospitality.
In spite of such discomforts, the daily life at Corps Headquarters
flowed on uninterruptedly in its several quite distinct activities. On
the one hand, there was the grim business of fighting, the detailed
conduct of the battle of to-day, the troop and artillery movements
for that of to-morrow, the planning of the one to be undertaken still
later; rounds of conferences and consultations; visits to Divisions and
Brigades, and to Artillery; reconnaissances to the forward zone; and an
intent and ceaseless study of maps and Intelligence summaries.
Hourly contact with Headquarters of Fourth Army and of flank
Corps had to be maintained. Then, following the day's strenuous
activities out of doors, there was at nights a never-diminishing mass
of administrative work, disciplinary questions, honours, awards,
appointments, promotions, and a formidable correspondence which must
not be allowed to fall into arrear.
Again, in the back areas there were the unemployed Divisions of
the Corps, who must be regularly visited, both at training and at
play. There were medals and ribbons to be distributed to the gallant
winners; addresses to be delivered; and the work of reorganizing
and refitting the resting units to be supervised. Still further in
rear, demonstrations of new experiments in tactics or in weapons, or
in mechanical warfare, had frequently to be attended, for study and
criticism.
And lastly there was the social life of the Corps; for its performances
were beginning to attract attention beyond the limited, if select,
circles of the Fourth Army. A steady stream of visitors began to set
in. It was a necessary burden that suitable arrangements for their
reception and entertainment had to be maintained.
The duties of hospitality had been simple at a time when Corps
Headquarters was still housed in palatial châteaux, situated in country
hitherto untouched by the war, and within easy reach of all supplies.
It was a very different matter to offer even reasonable comfort to a
visitor at a time when Government rations constituted the backbone of
our fare, when there were only bare floors to sleep upon for those who
were not fortunate enough to possess a camp bed or valise, and when
even an extra blanket or pillow or towel was at a premium.
Yet we were always most glad to see visitors, and those of them who
were soldiers had, of course, a full understanding of our limitations.
It was not always so with others who, in the earlier years of the war,
when all Corps had a fixed location and had achieved a high standard of
domestic comfort, had been accustomed to an adequate reception.
Upon the whole, our guests were indulgent, and understood that the
stress of current events placed a very strict limit upon the amount of
time that the members of my Staff or I could devote to them.
[Illustration: MAP F]
Among many other distinguished men whom I had the honour to receive
were members of the War Cabinet, such as Lord Milner, then Secretary of
State for War, and Mr. Winston Churchill, the Minister of Munitions;
public men, such as Sir Horace Plunkett and Robert Blatchford; eminent
authors, such as Sir Conan Doyle, Sir Gilbert Parker and Ian Hay;
famous artists, such as Louis Raemakers, Streeton and Longstaff;
celebrated journalists, like Viscount Burnham, Thomas Marlowe and Cope
Cornford; together with many representatives of the Royal Navy, and of
the armies of our Allies, and Attachés from all the Allied Embassies.
The Commander-in-Chief, Field Marshal Haig, was a frequent caller, and
never departed without leaving a stimulating impression of his placid,
hopeful and undaunted personality, nor without a generous recognition
of the work which the Corps was doing.
General Birdwood, also, the former Corps Commander, who now commanded
the Fifth Army, paid several visits to the Corps, travelling long
distances in order to speak a few encouraging words to the Commanders
and troops with whom he had formerly been so long and so closely
associated. He, too, was always a most welcome visitor. Although since
the previous May he had ceased to control the fighting activities of
the Corps, this did not lessen the intense pride which he took in its
daily successes.
Many of our civilian visitors thirsted for the noise and tumult
of battle, and were most keen to get under fire, even if only of
long-range artillery fire. This was a constant source of anxiety to
me, for it was an unwritten law that the responsibility of their safe
sojourn in the Corps area rested with me. More often than not they
had to be dissuaded from visiting the forward zone, and induced to
spend their available time in inspecting some of our show spots in the
rearward areas, such as the Calibration ranges, or the Corps central
telegraph station, or the Tank park, or even the Prisoner of War Cages,
and the numerous depots of captured guns and war trophies.
The Corps prisoners' cage was always, throughout the period of our
active fighting, a scene both of great interest and much activity.
Although all prisoners of war had to be evacuated to the rear usually
within about twenty-four hours of their admission, and every day a
batch marched out under escort, yet the Corps cage between July and
October was never empty.
When early in July the stream of prisoners began to flow in, and
thereafter grew steadily stronger, my Intelligence Service, headed by
Major S. A. Hunn, rose thoroughly to the occasion. Among our troops
sufficient numbers of all ranks proficient in the German language
were speedily found. After a little training they learned to deal
expeditiously with the lengthy searchings and interrogations which
followed the arrival of all new-comers.
Documents of every description found upon prisoners excepting their
pay-books, were seized and examined. The German soldier is an
inveterate sender and recipient of picture postcards. It was surprising
how much information of an invaluable character could be gleaned from
a postcard. A date, a place name, the number of a Unit or Regiment,
the name of a Commander, reference to a train journey or a fight, are
often sufficient, when read by an expert in relation to the context,
to furnish definite information of the whereabouts of a Division, or
of the fact that it has been or is about to be disbanded, or of its
intended movement to some other part of the front, or of the losses
which it has suffered.
All these scraps of information, when compared with similar items
gathered on other fronts, soon enabled the whole story of all movement
that was going on behind the enemy's lines to be deduced from day to
day with wonderful completeness.
So, also, maps, sketches, copies of orders, or of battle instructions,
and the contents of note-books and of personal diaries always repaid
the closest scrutiny. Such study produced results which, even if not of
immediate value to me, were nevertheless passed on to the Army, and by
them broadly promulgated, in daily summaries, for the benefit of all
our other Corps.
The oral interrogation of the prisoners, particularly of officers,
often produced results of first-class importance. Information as
to dispositions, intentions, new tactical methods or new weapons
frequently emerged from these inquiries. It was rare that prisoners
refused to talk, and rarer still for them to attempt to mislead with
false information. If they did attempt it, the interrogating officer
was usually sufficiently well-informed upon the subject of inquiry to
be able to detect the inconsistency.
As the prisoners were invariably examined separately, it was never
difficult to discriminate between the true, upon which the majority of
them were in agreement, and the false, upon which the minority never
agreed.
Should the prisoner prove uncommunicative or deceitful, then if he
were of sufficient education to make it worth while, the Intelligence
Officer had yet another method, besides direct questioning, at his
disposal.
For a certain number of our own men, who could speak German fluently,
and who had been carefully tutored in their rôle, were provided with
enemy uniforms, and allowed to grow a three-days' beard, so as to
impersonate prisoners of war. These men, so equipped, were called
"pigeons." A pigeon would be ostentatiously brought under escort
into the prisoners' cage, and would sojourn for a day or more in a
compartment of it among the specially selected genuine prisoners. He
would indicate by a secret sign the time when he should himself be led
to the Intelligence Office for interrogation. It was seldom that he
came away empty-handed.
The demeanour of our captives, on reaching the cages, varied widely,
according to the stress which they had undergone. Some wore an air of
abject misery, and were thoroughly cowed and subservient. Others were
defiant, sulky and even arrogant.
Our treatment of them was firm, but humane. Physically, they had
nothing to complain of; they were fed and quartered on the same
standard as our own men. But they were given to understand from the
very outset that we would stand no nonsense, and that they must do
exactly what they were told. Few of them ever gave us any real trouble.
The subsequent employment of prisoners of war did not come under my
jurisdiction, and it was seldom that any prisoner working parties were
available to me. My Corps area rarely extended sufficiently far back
from the front line to carry it beyond the zone in which, by agreement
between the belligerents, the employment of prisoners of war was
forbidden.
Australian soldiers are nothing if not sportsmen, and no case ever
came under my notice of brutality or inhumanity to prisoners. Upon the
contrary, when once a man's surrender had been accepted, and he had
been fully disarmed, he was treated with marked kindness. The front
line troops were always ready to share their water and rations with
their prisoners, and cigarettes were distributed with a liberal hand.
On the other hand, the souvenir-hunting instinct of the Australian
led him to help himself freely to such mementos as our orders had not
forbidden him to touch. Prisoners rarely got as far as the Corps cage
with a full outfit of regimental buttons, cockades, shoulder-straps,
or other accoutrements. Personal trinkets, pay-books, money and other
individual belongings were, however, invariably respected; unless, as
often happened, the prisoners themselves were anxious to trade them
away to their captors, or escorts, for tobacco, chocolates, or other
luxuries.
Before I leave the subject of prisoners I should mention my impression
of the German officers, particularly of those who were more senior in
rank. Whenever a Regimental or Battalion Commander was captured, and
time permitted, he was brought before me for a further interrogation.
It was an experience which was almost universal that such officers were
willing to give me little information which might injure their cause;
on the other hand, they exhibited an altogether exaggerated air of
wounded pride at their capture, and at the defeat of the troops whom
they had commanded.
It was that feeling of professional pique which dominated their whole
demeanour. They were always volubly full of excuses, the weather, the
fog, the poor _moral_ of their own men, the unexpectedness of our
attack, the Tanks, errors in their maps--anything at all but a frank
admission of their own military inferiority.
There were two amusing exceptions to this experience. The day after
the fighting for Péronne, when a large batch of the prisoners then
taken was being got ready to march out of the Corps cage, officers in
one enclosure, other ranks in another, the senior German officer, a
Regimental Commander, formally requested permission to address some
eighty other officers present in the cage. This request was granted.
He told them that they had fought a good fight, that their capture was
not to their discredit, and that he would report favourably upon them
to his superiors at the first opportunity. He then went on to say that
on his own and on their behalf he desired to tender to the Australians
an expression of his admiration for their prowess, and to make a frank
acknowledgment to them that he fully recognized that on this occasion
his garrison had been outclassed, out-manoeuvred, and out-fought. The
whole assembly expressed their acquiescence in these observations by
collectively bowing gravely to the small group of my Intelligence
Officers who were amused spectators of the scene.
On another occasion--it was just after the battle of September 18th--I
was asking a German Battalion Commander whether he could explain why it
was that his men had that day surrendered in such large numbers without
much show of resistance. "Well, you see," said he, with a twinkle in
his eye, "they are dreadfully afraid of the Australians. So they are of
the Tanks. But when they saw both of them coming at them _together_,
they thought it was high time to throw up their hands."
But this story is slightly anticipatory. The short breathing-space
which had been afforded by our more leisurely advance towards the
Hindenburg system was over. By September 12th I was once again immersed
in all the perplexities of shaping means to ends. I had to decide, in
collaboration with the Army Staff and the Corps on my flanks, first,
the extent of the resources which would be required, and second, the
successive stages which would offer promise of success in overthrowing
the last great defensive system of all those which the enemy had
created upon the tortured soil of France.