VIMY RIDGE.
Our sojourn in Houdain was short and sweet. The villagers did
everything in their power to make us comfortable, and in return the
local _estaminets_ were well patronized. The boys of No. 7 platoon
who were quartered in a brewery were particularly loath to leave, but
a pile of trouble was in store for the Canadians, and it was quite
universally known that on the 9th of April the Canadian Corps was to
carry out an operation in conjunction with Imperial troops that would
result in the immediate departure of the enemy from the summit of Vimy
Ridge.
For two years he had looked down into our trenches from the top of that
accursed ridge, which had been lost by the French in the early days
of the war. He could see the country behind our lines for a distance
of about 5 miles, and although every artifice in the dictionary of
camouflage had been used to conceal the hundreds of guns which were
hauled in, under cover of darkness, for the attack, Mister Fritz
could not help seeing something of our preparations. His nerves were
certainly on edge, but it was equally certain that he underestimated
both the strength and number of our guns and the courage of the
assaulting troops.
To drive him from the top of the ridge we must advance a distance
of nearly three miles, uphill, over deep mud and shell holes, and
through barbed wire entanglements strung across the front in a way
that only Germans with a dread of British steel know how to do. Such
an advance, even without a shot being fired from his lines, would be
quite an undertaking; and so he sat back in his deep dug-outs around
the "Zwichen Stellung," and smiled at the idea of anyone taking that
comfortable home away from him.
This, then, was the situation when we received orders on the 7th of
April to vacate our billets in Houdain and take over a series of mud
holes on the top of Mt. St. Eloi, called Dumbell Camp.
From this position, which was right on the edge of a wood (Bois Des
Alleux), we had a wonderful view of Vimy Ridge, and also made an
equally wonderful target for Fritz's high-velocity gunners, who seemed
to suspect, and rightly so, that that wood of ours was a good hiding
place for troops. (There must have been at least two Brigades in the
vicinity, to say nothing of countless ammunition dumps and big guns.)
His shooting was erratic so far as we were concerned, the shells either
going over our heads into the Engineers' Camp or falling short amongst
the mud holes of another battalion.
And here we stayed until the morning of the 9th of April, which was
the day set for the attack. No definite position among the assaulting
troops was assigned to us, the whole of the 9th Brigade being in
reserve, but we were told that we would be used to consolidate the
captured trenches, and that we might win much honour and glory by
conveying ammunition and trench material to the front line, in the
event of a successful attack. These little jobs sound rather tame in
comparison with honest fighting, but in reality they require just as
much skill and courage. Ask any infantry man which he would rather
do--go "over the top" or be in reserve and do working parties, and he
will choose "going over the top" every time. We had not yet reached
the point where we could appreciate these little distinctions, and in
consequence were inclined to underestimate the importance of the part
allotted to us.
The dawn of the 9th of April, 1917, saw perhaps the fiercest and
most scientific artillery barrage of the war (so far) let loose on
the German front and support line trenches. Fritz must surely have
realized that this was something more than the daily "warm up," which
our artillery had been giving him during the last three weeks, and when
its full meaning had sunk into his thick and short-cropped head his
feelings must have been far from happy.
The boot was to be on the other foot now, for instead of watching us
swimming around in the mud of the Souchez Valley, we were soon to see
him flying across the lowland which stretches from the eastern side
of the Ridge towards Avion and Lens, with the lash of our shells and
bullets around his ears.
From our position we could see only the flash of the guns as it was
scarcely daylight, when, like a mighty earthquake, the artillery burst
forth, sounding the keynote of the advance to our waiting comrades in
the trenches.
Gazing into the smoke and dust, caused by the bursting shells, we
vainly tried to picture the drama that had just begun, and many a
prayer for success went up from the watchers on Mount St. Eloi that
morning.
The attack was evidently progressing, for soon after zero hour, we
received orders for one Company to go forward immediately, three
platoons to act as carrying parties, and one platoon for wiring in
front of some strong points which were to be established by the
P.P.C.L.I. The order in which our Companies would be used had been
previously decided by ballot, for it goes without saying that all
four Companies were anxious to be first--"B" Company were the lucky
ones, and under Major Moody, moved out accompanied by a detachment of
Engineers under whose supervision the defences of the strong points
would be constructed. "A" Company (Major Cooke), "C" Company (Major
Currie), and "D" Company (Major Bird) moved out later in the day.
The work by these Companies, acting independently for the first time,
deserves the highest praise, and their adventures throughout that
memorable day would almost fill a book in themselves. The Sector of the
ridge where our Companies were employed had been cleared of the enemy
and by the time that No. 8 platoon had reached the new front line
around La Folie Farm, the German artillerymen, who up till now had been
chiefly engaged in dragging their guns to safety, were searching the
top of the ridge in an endeavour to retard the work of consolidation.
They must have sighted No. 8 platoon, for no sooner had our men begun
work on the wiring schemes than a veritable hail of shells was poured
into them. In spite of heavy casualties the work of consolidation was
continued and completed, and towards midnight all companies reported
in to Dumbell Camp, having lost ten men killed and thirty wounded,
including Company Sergeant Major Graves.
The reports from all parts of the line fulfilled the highest
expectations, and the prisoners' cages were crowded beyond capacity,
but for the next few days there was to be no rest for anyone until our
new line had been so firmly established as to admit of no possibility
for a successful counter-attack by the Bosch.
The following day the Battalion furnished parties to assist in the
general work of consolidation, and at about 5 o'clock in the evening,
orders were received for us to take over the front line from the 8th
Brigade, composed of the 1st, 2nd, 4th and 5th Battalions, C.M.R. It
looked as if we might get into some of the fighting after all, and
with very mixed feelings the inevitable advance party, consisting of
1 officer and 1 N.C.O. from each Company and H.Q., started out in the
direction of a certain map location called "Spandau Haus" where the
C.M.R. Battalions had established their headquarters. The line of
march brought us through territory already well known--Berthonval Farm,
La Targette Corners, Goodman Tunnel, Chassery Crater, etc., and further
on, through territory fresh with the smell of the Bosch.
It is a very curious sensation to walk boldly across the shell holes,
which only recently were called "No Man's Land," and over which we had
been wont to crawl about with our noses pretty close to the ground. By
the time we reached Spandau Haus, night had set in, and to look over
the line with any intelligence would be an impossibility. This must
have been a very joyous relief to the C.M.R.'s, for they were all dog
tired, and to have to more or less instruct a new Battalion in all the
intricacies of a newly captured position was asking them a little too
much after their experiences of the last 36 hours. This is evidently
what Divisional Headquarters thought too, for by the time our party
had returned to Dumbell Camp, having carefully marked on their maps
all the information possible, it was announced that the relief of the
8th Brigade by our Battalion had been cancelled, and that the 60th
Battalion would go forward in our place--shouts of joy, especially by
the advance party, who had done ten miles in the pouring rain. Instead,
therefore, of holding Vimy Ridge against the now infuriated Bosch, we
were reduced to taking over the support trenches soon to be vacated by
the 60th, and at dusk the following day, during a heavy fall of snow,
these changes were successfully carried out. The Battalion was shelled
heavily by 5.9's just as it reached the old crater line, and had
several casualties, including Lt. John Doble, who was killed.
[Illustration: THE ORIGINAL "ORDERLY ROOM STAFF"]
During the next ten days the whole Battalion was engaged in the
reconstruction of the Lens-Arras road, between Thélus and Vimy, which
had been rendered practically impassable by the recent barrages. This
work was both laborious and nerve-racking. Fritz was quite aware that
the road was one of our only lines of communication, having used it
himself, and consequently he was not going to let us put it into good
condition for nothing. Every variety of "hate," large and small, and
generally in series of four, was thrown at that road blocked with
mule transport, guns, ambulances, and working parties (chiefly 116th
Battalion)? and it is the most extraordinary thing that the work of
reconstruction progressed as favorably as it did, and that there were
not more casualties.
During this period opportunities were afforded us for looking over the
Corps front from the top of the ridge, and for admiring the recent
work of our own artillery on the German defences. Whilst reconnoitring
the forward positions Lt. W. K. Kift and Lt. H. L. Major both received
wounds from which they afterwards died. The laborious work of
road-making with its daily toll of casualties continued, until one day,
a note from Battalion Headquarters announced that we would not become
a fighting unit as heretofore decided, but that we would be made into
a pioneer battalion and be attached permanently to the 8th Brigade.
All this in the interest of the Corps, etc., etc., etc. We were still
"chewing the rag" over this latest development when along came the
Colonel himself to announce that all previous orders regarding pioneer
battalions had been cancelled, and that it had been definitely decided
for us to take over the 60th Battalion. In order to do this with the
least confusion possible, we were to be moved back to the Berthonval
Farm area, where Fritz's shells were not likely to disturb us, all of
which prophecies excepting the one concerning the shells came true.