THE FIGHT ON THE BIPSCHOOTE-LANGEMARCK ROAD, OCTOBER 23RD, 1914
We were, I believe, sent up in reserve to the 1st Brigade. Whether that
is correct or not, it is not for me to state--all I know is that we
formed up well behind the front line, two companies taking the first
line in extended order and two companies the second line in the same
order. Thus we advanced about a mile over flat open country to the
front line. We went up in short rushes, and a word of praise is due
to the men who took part in it. I never even on the Barrack Square or
drill-ground saw a better advance: the men went up absolutely in line,
each man keeping his correct distance, and that under heavy machine-gun
and rifle fire. Of course some men got knocked over; but it made
absolutely no difference. One Officer, a Major Powell, carried a chair
with him the whole of the way, and, on reaching a hedge, would mount
this chair to get a view of the enemy.
Two hundred yards off the front line, we made a combined rush into it.
There we found the Camerons, with the usual one-man trench. The man I
lay down behind told me that they had been out there three days and had
had no rations, and also that they had had many men taken prisoners.
In this front line we had a breather, the German trenches being roughly
three hundred yards away, and a hedge was also running parallel between
the two lines of trenches, with a big gap facing us. Through this
gap we could see the enemy retiring one and two at a time from their
trenches. They appeared like so many rabbits running from their holes,
and, as they ran, so we took pot-shots at them. After we had had our
breather, the word was given to charge; and this we did, going through
in fine style. Just behind the front line of German trenches was a
house from which we took a number of prisoners. The first man of ours
to reach it was a corporal. He called upon the Germans to surrender
and got a bullet through the brain for his pains. The Germans then saw
us, and were obliged to surrender, and were given over to men to take
behind. One German Officer remarked: "We don't mind--we've got Paris,
and London is in flames." One of our Officers turned round and said:
"You know that's not true." Whereon he remarked: "I know, but the men
believe it."
[Illustration: MAP 4.]
The troops we were fighting there were on the whole very young, and
they had new clothing and equipment, and told us that they had left
Germany for what they thought would be manoeuvres in Belgium, and did
not expect seeing the firing line for some months. I myself really
thought the war was over that day, as Germans surrendered from all
directions and we overran their trenches everywhere.
I went on with the first line, right into the village of Langemarck.
We got to a windmill, where we took up position--two Officers and
thirty-four men, the Officers being Captain Craig and Lieutenant
Gardiner (afterwards taken prisoner). As it began to get dark, we
set about trying to find the other part of the Regiment, and another
man and myself were sent out to locate them. Creeping along quietly
for about three hundred yards, we came to a trench. Thinking it was
occupied by our own men, we walked up, and found it full of Germans! We
were off with a volley behind us, but got safely back, reporting the
incident to the Captain. After studying the map for some time, he came
to the conclusion that we were cut off, and had better wait until it
was quite dark. This we did, and successfully found the remainder of
the Regiment.
We had done well that day and set to work with a will during the night
on a new line of trenches. These we held the next day, being relieved
again at night by a French Division, with the exception of about thirty
of us, who were unfortunately left behind.
It had happened this wise: there was a sharp bend in the trench, and my
platoon was round the other side of that bend. The French, on coming up
the communication trench in the dark, had gone straight on, relieved
the remainder of the Battalion, and had left us there. The Battalion,
on forming up in the rear to march off, had found that we were missing;
they had waited for us in a field, naturally thinking we should join up
as soon as we had been relieved. After waiting for an hour, daybreak
came, and the Germans had commenced to shell them; so they had made
off, leaving us behind.
We in the trenches were rather worried by a party firing over our
heads, apparently from behind, and the Germans were in front. Towards
daybreak the men on our left commenced firing heavily, and the Officer
in charge of us (Lieutenant Gardiner) shouted out to know the reason
of it. After shouting several times and getting no answer, he sent
an N.C.O. down to inquire. When that N.C.O. came back and reported
that the trench was full of French troops, we knew then the Regiment
had gone and had left us--anyhow, Lieutenant Gardiner went behind and
found the men who had been firing over our heads to be French troops
also. They were in a ditch, evidently in the dark taking this ditch to
be the line of trenches. Of course, on being told their mistake, they
cheerfully came up and let us fall to the rear.
On the way back we inquired of every one if they knew the whereabouts
of our Regiment, but, as no one knew, we were stranded. We then marched
back to our old billets in Boesinghe, which we had left a couple of
days before. We found no Regiment there, so the Officer took us all
into an estaminet (beer-shop), and ordered us coffee and food. We then
heard from a Staff Officer that the Regiment had gone on to Ypres. It
was Sunday morning, October 25th, 1914, when we arrived at Ypres. The
town was then practically in its normal state, being full of civilians
just returning from Mass, and no German shell had yet visited the town.
There we found our Corps Headquarters, and the Officer in charge of us,
having reported the episode of how we got left behind in the trenches
and learnt the whereabouts of the Regiment, was told that the G.O.C.
was highly pleased with our work of the last two days, and that when he
reported to the C.O. (Major Carter), who had joined us recently and had
led us in the last attack, he was to tell him that the men who had been
left behind were to be struck off all guards, fatigues, etc., for the
next twenty-four hours and to be given a thorough rest.
Thus ended the Langemarck engagement so far as we were concerned. On
October 26th, 1914, General Headquarters issued the report, a copy of
which appeared in the current account of _The Times_ of November 17th,
1914, as follows:
"THE GALLANT NORTH LANCASHIRES
"SPECIAL 2ND BRIGADE ORDER
"26TH OCTOBER, 1914
"In the action of the 23rd of October, 1914, the 2nd Infantry Brigade
(less the 2nd Royal Sussex Regiment left at Boesinghe) was allotted the
task of reinforcing the 1st Infantry Brigade and retaking the trenches
along the Bipschoote-Langemarck Road, which had been occupied by the
enemy. In spite of the stubborn resistance offered by the German
troops, the object of the engagement was accomplished, but not without
many casualties in the Brigade.
"By nightfall the trenches previously captured by the Germans had been
reoccupied, about 500 prisoners captured, and fully 1,500 German dead
were lying out in front of our trenches.
"The Brigadier-General congratulates the 1st Loyal North Lancashire
Regiment, Northampton Regiment, and the 2nd K.R.R.C. (King's Royal
Rifle Corps), but desires specially to commend the fine soldier-like
spirit of the 1st Loyal North Lancashire Regiment, which, advancing
steadily under heavy shell and rifle fire, and aided by machine-guns,
was enabled to form up within a comparatively short distance of the
enemy's trenches. Fixing bayonets, the battalion then charged, carried
the trenches, and occupied them; and to them must be allotted the
majority of the prisoners captured. The Brigadier-General congratulates
himself on having in his Brigade a battalion which, after marching the
whole of the previous night without food or rest, was able to maintain
its splendid record in the past by the determination and self-sacrifice
displayed in this action.
"The Brigadier-General has received special telegrams of
congratulations from both the G.O.C.-in-Chief, 1st Corps, and the
G.O.C., 1st Division, and he hopes that in the next engagement in which
the Brigade takes part the high reputation which the Brigade already
holds may be further added to.
"(_Signed_) B. PAKENHAM, CAPTAIN,
"Brigade Major 2nd Infantry Brigade."
On October 26th, 1914, we left our billets on the Melin Road, and
proceeded further up, halting about halfway between Ypres and Hooge,
called then by us the "black and white village." There we were placed
in a field, and, once more lining the hedges, we stopped there the
rest of the day. A regrettable incident took place towards evening:
one of our own aeroplanes was brought down by our own fire, under the
impression that it was an enemy. It caught fire five hundred yards up,
and burned furiously: both men, pilot and observer, were killed.
The following morning, October the twenty-seventh, we filed out of
these fields, and, passing through Hooge, continued up the road as
far as a large wood on the left of the road and about three miles
from Ypres town. At the north end of this wood were some batteries of
artillery behind a large château, and in this wood we dug lines of
trenches with entrenching tools.
Next day, the twenty-eighth, we were taken from here to another wood
on our left front nearly half-a-mile from the last. We had a little
difficulty in reaching it, as the whole of the distance was within view
of the enemy. Anyhow, we did the distance, by platoons, at the double
and at a hundred paces interval.
This wood was larger than the one we had just left, and we commenced
at once to dig in at the rear end. We had had no casualties on the
journey, although the Germans had shelled us with eighteen-pounders,
all shells, fortunately, bursting at each side of the road. We stayed
in this wood until the next morning, then retiring to the one we had
come from. We had one or two casualties before we left, losing one or
two men wounded and a horse killed, the enemy's observation having been
attracted to us by the smoke from a fire.
That afternoon, the twenty-ninth of October, we proceeded to advance
once more. Getting nearly a mile up the main road, we took the left
side, going out in extended order. Thence we advanced another
half-mile, coming under shell-fire; when we reached the rise, we lay
down. All this time we had seen nothing of the enemy, though bullets
were flying all around us. It was then dark, but we did not stay there.
Closing in on the right, we came to a village: here the bullets were
very thick, but we continued to cross the village along the main road
to the right. The name of this village I never heard; it is now in
the enemy's hands. In its centre was what looked like the ruins of
a windmill: we could see the arms and sails on the ground, but the
remainder appeared to be nothing but a huge pile of stones.
Crossing the village into some more fields, we formed up into line,
and there commenced to dig another line of trenches--the King's Royal
Rifles on our left and on our right the 3rd Brigade, consisting of the
Queen's Royal West Kents, Welsh and South Wales Borderers.
That night we brought in a German sniper, who had evidently been
wounded in the stomach. He could not give us any information, as he was
too badly wounded.
Later on, while we were digging, the C.O. gave out to us that there was
to be no retirement from here: we were to hold the position at all
costs. The Rifles on our left were commanding the top of the hill, and,
as our line ran down a slope, we were ordered to dig our trenches forty
feet long facing the enemy but in step fashion, one behind the other.
This we did, bringing the last trench on the right of our line just in
front of a wood. We worked all night on these trenches, making them as
strong as possible, knowing that there was to be no retirement.
Next morning, the thirtieth, we were very heavily bombarded, and the
bombardment increased in violence towards midday, when we were ordered
out of our trenches and to advance. We again moved up about a thousand
yards, but there was still no sign of the enemy--shells were abundant.
In front of a farm-house we dug in again, and then we began to see our
troops retiring on the right. Two or three of the Welsh passing near,
we inquired what was going on, when they replied: "It's hell. The
Queen's are absolutely cut up"--which was true--what remained of them
were sent down the line for garrison duties. We then began to expect a
little excitement, but it did not come off that day; and we were once
more ordered to return to the line we had left earlier.
Next morning, the thirty-first, the Germans bombarded us more
violently than ever. This continued for several hours. The next thing
was that we saw the Germans coming; and they did come--in their
thousands. We kept them off for an hour or two when the C.O. of the
King's Royal Rifles consulted us, or rather our C.O., about retiring.
I remember the two Officers having a heated argument over it, as they
stood by a farm-house immediately in rear of the line. I do not,
however, know what their argument was, but heard afterwards that the
King's Royal Rifles had got short of ammunition. The words I did
hear from our C.O. were: "It's the General's orders that we hold the
position at all costs, and this I'll do if I lose the whole regiment."
We continued to fire until the Germans were on our trenches and coming
through the line the King's Royal Rifles had vacated on our left. I
was in the third line of steps near the farm-house, where I overheard
some of the conversation of the two C.O.'s. Just in front of the King's
Royal Rifles' trenches was a huge German Officer waving with one hand
to the retiring Rifles to surrender and with the other waving his
troops on. It did not seem of much good for us few men to attempt to
fight that dense mass of Germans, but we did; and out of the thousand,
or thereabouts, that we lined up with a couple of nights before very
few got away, the enemy taking somewhere about four hundred of my
Regiment prisoners and our casualties being about the same number.
I had a run for my life that day. A chum of mine who was with us had a
cock-fowl in his valise that morning from the farm; he had wrung its
neck but he had not quite succeeded in killing him; and, as we ran,
this bird began to crow. As for myself, I had no equipment; I had run
having left it in the bottom of the trench. It is quite funny as I come
to think of it now--the old cock crowing as we ran; but it was really
terrible at the time. We were absolutely overwhelmed, not only in our
particular spot but all along the line, and had to concede nearly one
thousand yards to the enemy. We were also very unfortunate in losing
our Brigadier, General Bulfin, wounded on the cross-roads by a piece of
shell, I believe; also our Brigade Major, who was killed with another
piece from the same shell. I am sure every man in the Brigade felt
very keenly the loss of the Brigadier; it was he who took us out from
Aldershot, and not a better General or a braver or cooler soldier under
fire ever stepped on field of battle.
Most of my Regiment being gone and the remainder mixed up with other
Brigades which had formed another line, two chums and myself went to
a farm-house fifty yards behind this newly made line. There we had a
field battery; and, after getting a little rest, started out to find
the remnants of the Regiment. The enemy were still shelling, and the
battle was still going on; but by nightfall, not finding any of them,
we came back to the old house and found the battery gone. We decided
to rest there for the night with some more stray men of different
Regiments. Just in front of us, and in rear of the line, lay a wounded
German. We decided to bring him in, and did so: he had been hit in the
mouth, half of his tongue having been taken away. The poor fellow was
in agony, every now and then lying on the ground and kicking. One of
our men volunteered to take him back to the field ambulance, and did so.
That night we slept _on beds_ in the farm-house, and next morning,
November the first, after a hurried breakfast of biscuits and beef,
we all set out to join our respective Regiments; but, after wandering
about for an hour and seeing no signs of any of ours, my two chums--one
of them now holds the V.C.--decided to go back to the farm-house and
make a dinner. There was plenty of vegetables in the garden and an
outhouse full of potatoes; and we found a spirit-lamp and a pot; so
we commenced to prepare our meal. In a short time it was all in the
pot, when--alas!--the Germans began to shell our house, sending over
incendiary shells. They let us have it battery fire. The first lot took
off the off fore-leg of a cow, which along with some others was grazing
at the back of the house; the poor thing hopped around on three legs
for a second or two and then dropped, the other cows running up to
lick the blood from its wound. The next lot hit the top of the house,
one shell taking away the roof of the scullery, behind which one of my
chums was standing; the other had already run into the trenches fifty
yards away. I was the last to go, the other two having thought that
I had been hit. I did not leave the place until the house was well
alight; and three hours after, when the enemy's guns had died down and
the fire had burnt out the house, I went over to see how the dinner
had got on, and found it done to a turn, cooked by the heat from the
burning house. Needless to say, we did full justice to that dinner--all
three of us.
We then went into the trenches with the Scots Guards and on the left of
them were some of the Gloucesters. On inquiring if they had seen any
of the North Lancashires they replied, "Yes; they had gone back to the
reserve trenches in the wood, there to reorganize." There we found the
Regiment, or rather the few that were left of it--about one hundred and
thirty.
That night we received from England a draft of reinforcements one
hundred strong. After resting in those trenches that night, we were
taken a little farther back to a wood in the front of Hooge and on
the right side facing the firing line. There we dug new trenches and
dug-outs, and always came back to them on after occasions to rest. We
were never once taken into Ypres or any buildings, since the enemy had
during the last few days commenced to shell the town and some parts
were on fire. This information we got from our transport drivers, who
had gone back some way behind Ypres.
We rested in these trenches for two days, and were then called out--on
the afternoon of the second of November--in support of the 3rd Brigade.
We went up in the usual skirmishing order, three other men and myself
going on in front to warn the C.O., when we came into touch with the
Welsh Regiment. We were very heavily shelled going up, but reached
the Welsh with insignificant losses. Lying in front of the Welsh and
around a farm-house were a party of French troops. On the word that
we had arrived and come into touch with the Welsh, our Regiment was
made to halt in a wood just behind and lie down. We were only just off
the road a little to the right, and I estimate the Germans were about
seven hundred to eight hundred yards off. While we were there a 4.7 gun
was brought up on the road, and at the above-mentioned distance fired
point-blank into the advancing Germans. An hour afterwards, the Welsh
made a charge, and a fairly successful one it was, meeting, as it did,
the enemy in the open. They returned to their original position, while
we took up a position to their right.
That night we again dug trenches, and next day, November the third,
we had very little to contend with--only shell-fire; and we continued
during the day to strengthen our trenches. At night we again moved a
little nearer to the enemy, and commenced another line of trenches.
By next morning we were well dug in, and it was a good job that we
were, as the Germans bombarded us very heavily. At that period we did
not have lines of trenches where one could walk about; merely the
usual one-man trench. The Germans shelled us from early morning until
darkness set in and our casualty list was close on fifty, in addition
to which we lost our C.O. and our Adjutant, Major Carter and Captain
Allen, both killed.
I had a fairly decent trench there, as I always had everywhere,
knowing that the harder I worked on my trench the more chance I had of
safety. I here lost a decent chum, killed on that day, the fourth of
November, by a bullet through his brain, whilst he was spreading jam on
a biscuit. When it became dark two of my comrades came into my decent
trench, and there we soon dropped off to sleep, all three of us, the
Germans shelling us all the time. When we awoke, it was nearly nine
o'clock; we were roused from our sleep by some one throwing, or rather
showering, earth in upon us. Up I jumped and inquired _sotto voce_:
"Who are you?" Back came the reply: "Who are you?" On telling him, he
replied that he was a Royal Engineer digging a communication trench;
we were not sorry to hear that he was not one of the enemy. He then
inquired what we were doing there, remarking that the Lancashires had
been relieved and gone back some time ago. After wandering about for an
hour, we found the Regiment in the reserve trenches in the wood. Every
one had settled down for the night, rations and rum had been issued,
and we had perforce to make the best of it. I did not sleep so well as
usual, feeling the loss of my pal. However, next morning, November the
fifth, we were told that, as we had had such a hard time of it of late,
we were to be put into reserve on some fairly easy trenches on the left
of the road and just in front of the wood we occupied on our first
coming up. All we had to contend with was cross-fire from the enemy's
guns. It does not sound very dreadful, nor to us men did it sound hard;
most of us thought that we were going to have a fairly easy time of it;
so into the trenches we went quite happily. But the shell-fire there
was terrible, and the way the shrapnel whistled through those trees, to
say nothing of the high explosives, fairly made one's hair stand on end.
I was just in front of the wood, where we had one company entrenched;
fifty yards in front and the other side of a hedge was another company.
These were the only two companies we had, as we had become very weak.
In this reserve trench my company lay for twenty-four hours, exchanging
with the company in front of us at the end of that time for another
twenty-four hours; but we were kept in that line for another four
days through an unfortunate incident. We went into the front line of
the reserve trenches on Saturday, November the sixth. In front of us
were supposed to be the Zouaves. On our right front fifty yards off
was a small house beside the road, the hedge just behind us running
parallel but gradually getting to a point at the extremity of the
trench, which ended in a _cul-de-sac_. Just over the top and in line
with the main trench was a small trench, which we called the Thirteen
Trench, as thirteen men occupied it. It was situated just off the road
and commanded a view straight up it. Fifty yards along the main trench
was a communication trench reaching to the hedge, where it stopped,
letting us out on the other side. Sunday morning, November the eighth,
broke with a heavy mist; it was one of those hazy mornings that denote
heat. Every one was taking things fairly easy, when a man next to me,
on glancing over the top, exclaimed: "Look! here's the Germans."
We thereupon sent for the Officer, but he could hardly believe his
eyes: we were then supposed to be in reserve. The enemy was advancing
upon us in close formation fully a thousand strong, and our full
strength could not have been more than a hundred in that trench and
a hundred in the trenches behind, as I know that the whole Regiment
at that time was not more than two hundred and thirty (not including
Transport).
They were advancing by way of the little house and on to the Thirteen
Trench. We kept up a brisk fire for a considerable time into the
advancing masses; but we were hopelessly outclassed, and had to fall
back on our other company behind. On reaching them, we all retired into
the wood, drawing the enemy in behind us. It proved to be a fine piece
of strategy, as we drew them on to unfamiliar ground and away from the
trenches. We then turned round and made a counter-attack, driving them
well back and leaving heaps of them dead and wounded behind.
We had almost reached our original line, when a chum of mine called to
me by name. I went over to him, and found him lying on the ground: he
had been hit and could not help himself, and he asked me to take him
back to the dressing-station. I could not well refuse; so, dragging
him and carrying as best I could, I made for the road, and there we
nearly both got taken by the Germans, who were coming down that road
in hundreds, and were only a few yards off. So I had to drag my man
back into the wood, dropping into a ditch with him at the side of the
road, where I was able to ascertain the extent of his wound. There was
not much to show--only a small bullet-hole through his hip entering his
stomach. In this ditch was a Zouave; and he gave me some black stuff
that looked like coffee. Getting, a little later, into the wood, I was
able to take him that way to the dressing-station. I heard a few weeks
afterwards that he had died from his wound.
On arriving back, I found that the Regiment had again retired a little
way behind the trenches we had before occupied; and I also found that
I had lost another old and valued chum, the one who had originally
enlisted with me and had up till that time been through the campaign
unscathed. I am thankful to say he was not badly wounded, although he
lost the use of his left hand. There were not many of us left; our
ranks were more depleted than ever; not more than seventy or eighty all
told remained--nevertheless, they were planning to retake the trenches.
On reaching the communication trench unmolested, we started to file in,
myself going second man. Of all the trenches I had been in that was
quite the worst: we had to absolutely walk the whole of the way over
dead bodies--our own men and Germans. It was eight o'clock at night,
and of course dark, which made our task more unpleasant; but we reached
the end of the communication trench safely, though we had not got more
than three or four yards down the main trench to the right, where it
ended in a _cul-de-sac_, before a German patrol of about twelve men
came walking along the top of the trench. We waited until they were on
top of us--then I let drive. I can hear the yell of the fellow I hit
to this day, as he threw up his hands and dropped. The man next to me
on my left also let go, and I thought he had blown the top of my head
off!--he must have had the muzzle of his rifle quite close to my ear,
as I was deaf for some time afterwards. He thought _I_ was hit!
On gaining the end of the trench, I was, with three others, sent into
the communication trench to clear out the dead. A London Scottish
Officer--they had only been out, or rather in action a week--came up
with his men to relieve us, and remarked to our Captain, who was the
C.O., that he did not mind seeing dead Germans but he did object to
walking upon them; so we had the job of clearing them out, which we did
in this way: two men stayed in the trench and two stood on the top of
it, the two in the trench each lifting a leg of the dead man up to the
two men on top, who then hauled him over. We had been at work for about
an hour at this interesting job, when who should walk along the top
under cover of a hedge but a German right up to where we were working!
He was fully equipped, but we had discarded our equipment, on account
of it hindering us at our task. On reaching us, I exclaimed to my pal,
who was bending over in the trench: "Look, chummy, here's a German!"
The two men on top having just gone further up had not seen him. On
hearing me speak, the German made a motion with his hands and said,
"Hush!" I was never more surprised in all my life--he evidently took us
for Germans, too. I then said to my pal: "Find us a rifle": there were
plenty at the bottom of the trench. He handed me one up, and, pointing
it at the German, I was foolish enough to say: "Hands up!" He again
said: "Hush!" I said to my pal: "Hand me up some ammunition, quick." He
handed me up five rounds, and, pulling one out of the clip, I placed it
in the breech of my rifle. When the German heard the bolt of the rifle
go home, he turned round and bolted off--but he was too late: I had him
right through the back. We thought it best, then, to return to the
company; and we did so.
When we had reported this little episode, I remarked to the Captain
that I thought the man had come from the Thirteen Trench. He replied:
"That's all bosh." While we had been away there had evidently been a
discussion over this Thirteen Trench, and the Captain had asked a man
who had been in it early the day before we had been driven out to go
over the top--only a matter of ten yards--and see who was occupying it
then. This man said that he knew a safer way round, when the Captain
said: "Take two more men and go over." Again this man replied, asking
if he might not go round. Then the Captain, becoming wild, said: "If
three of you won't go, thirteen of you go. If you prefer to go the
other way round, go, and I'll come and see you do go." I made one of
those thirteen, and we filed down the communication trench; and, coming
out on the other side of the hedge, we crept along behind it amidst
the cries of several wounded soldiers of both sides until we came to
the gap in the hedge facing this small Thirteen Trench a few yards
away. The Captain was leading, then another man, and then myself. We
had no sooner reached the top of the trench than a guttural voice
challenged "Halt!" and then I could see the forms of the Germans: they
were packed in there like sardines. Of course, the next minute they
had opened fire, our Captain and C.O. being killed on the spot; the
remainder of us, being unprepared, turned and ran. The Zouaves, who had
then taken up a position behind us, thinking it was the Germans coming,
opened fire on us, too; and there were we running between two fires! I
remember on coming close to the Zouaves' line that I took a flying leap
clean on top of one of them as he was about to shoot. I knocked him
down, of course; but, on getting up and seeing who I was, he clasped
his arms around me, very pleased that I was not a German. Then, along
with the remainder of the men, I returned to our old trench, reporting
to the only Officer we had left the death of our Captain.
As we could not hand over the trenches complete, the Germans having
possession of the Thirteen Trench, we were not relieved by the London
Scottish, as it is a rule with the Regular Army that, on being
relieved, trenches have to be handed over precisely as they were taken
over, any that may have been lost having to be retaken. Consequently we
were kept in these trenches another forty-eight hours, and during that
time we were, if possible, to retake the one we had lost.
As we were so very weak we were reinforced by a platoon of the 2nd
Black Watch and one machine-gun belonging to them. The gun was fixed in
position at the bottom of the communication trench close to the hedge,
so as to cover any movement of the enemy from the Thirteen Trench. At
the bottom of the main trench and in that traverse we had eight men ten
yards away, and in line were the enemy occupying the Thirteen Trench.
At daybreak the next morning each of our eight men received a bullet in
his head from the waiting Germans, six being killed outright and two
wounded.
I was then sent with five other men to fill their places, and our
orders were to lie down in the bottom of the trench and not show
ourselves, as our machine-gun was trained directly over the top to the
Thirteen Trench beyond us, and on any move being made by the enemy
the gun would instantly open fire directly over us. My comrades and
myself lay there the whole of the day; the stench from the dead men
who had been killed that morning was sickening--indeed, the whole of
that trench smelt of blood, warm blood as from a slaughter-house, which
in fact it was. We all got very cramped towards evening, and a great
deal of grumbling was going on, as in the ordinary course of events we
should have been relieved by that time and back resting. Some one at
length suggested going to the Officer to ask for relief and beg him to
exchange us with some men higher up the trench, who had more freedom. I
was asked if I would be spokesman. Replying in the affirmative, I went
to the Officer and explained the case, telling him how cramped we had
become. He asked me where I had come from. When I told him, he asked me
who gave me permission to leave my post: I replied no one, but that I
was the oldest soldier, whereupon he came with me to the bottom of the
trench, and, addressing the men, promised them he would relieve them as
soon as possible. He also said: "You have nothing to fear while I am
with you; the Germans are ten yards off." After further promising to
send the relief, he departed. We then decided, as night was falling,
that three of us should keep watch for the first hour and the other
three for the second hour, carrying on like that alternately throughout
the night.
The night was very black and the gloom very thick, and we could not see
a movement of the enemy ten yards away, but could imagine all sorts
of forms and shapes in front of us. I think it was during our second
watch that we discerned what we thought to be three forms moving behind
the enemy trench and making for the road; so one of us fired. We heard
a yell and concluded we had got somebody. During the third watch my
two comrades grew very tired, and, getting down with the other men at
the bottom of the trench at my bidding, were soon fast asleep. I then
pulled two of the dead bodies to the end of the trench and stood them
up against the wall facing the enemy to make them appear as if there
were more of us. I had no sooner done this than a German got stealthily
out of his trench; and, creeping along behind the hedge and to the rear
of our line, up popped another, and then another. Whereupon I sent word
of the enemy's movements _viâ_ the next traverse to the Officer, asking
what I should do. In the meantime I was doing all I could to awaken my
comrades; but they were so sound asleep that, although I was kicking
them, I could not get them to budge. The word then came back from the
Officer to say we were to do nothing--not even to fire a shot, as the
machine-gun was trained upon the enemy, waiting for them to come up.
I was in a very awkward position, as I could see the line of enemy
trenches in front, and the one they were coming out of on our flank,
and I had to stand there and say nothing whilst they crept around the
back of us. I began to get "wind up" (frightened), as by this time they
were six to one against me, and, being the end man, I had no chance
whatsoever. No doubt I should have accounted for one or two of them,
but I should never have got away myself.
This situation continued for about twenty minutes. I had at last been
able to arouse my comrades, when an order came down for the North
Lancashires to file out: we were being relieved by the West Riding
Regiment. I may state that I never heard such welcome words in my life!
How the West Ridings fared after that I do not know, but I do know that
I was well out of it!
That night we returned to our old reserve trenches for rest at Hooge;
and next day a message from General French was read out to us, praising
us for the work we had done and regretting that he had had to keep
us so long in action without a rest. We had been either marching or
fighting since the middle of August, and it was then the middle of
November, but he did not think we should have to go into the trenches
again before we had had our long-deferred and well-earned rest.
That night the 3rd Battalion Scots Guards, just out from England, came
into the wood also, and a fresh Regiment of Zouaves joined us. We were
all very pleased to think that we were about to be relieved, and I
remember well taking a dozen field post-cards from different men of the
Scots Guards to post as we went down the line. We marched out at eight
o'clock, every one convinced that we were going to have our rest, when,
on reaching the road, instead of marching towards Ypres, they took us
towards the trenches. Even then we thought we were going for our rest,
some suggesting that we were on our way to a meeting-place for the
Brigade; others took it to be another way round--"Yes, _viâ_ Germany,"
remarked some one. Well, we did _not_ get our rest: we went into the
trenches again on _two_ occasions after that, and for forty-eight-hour
stretches. At length we were relieved by the Guards Brigade, and went
back to Hazebruck by easy stages.
I should like to say a few words about Ypres before I close the account
of my experiences there. We were during the whole of the first Battle,
from October the twenty-third to the seventeenth of November, 1914,
fighting in the trenches all the time, with the exception of the first
three days. I was in the Bipschoote-Langemarck-road engagement, in
what is now better known as "the Ypres salient." From the time when
I first went there until October the thirty-first our front line was
fully six kilometres from Ypres town, but between the twenty-third and
the thirty-first of October the Germans gained from us quite three to
four kilometres. We did not regard this as a defeat to the British
arms, as at that time the enemy were, without exaggeration, six to one
against us, and they were also much better equipped with artillery. On
the contrary, I wish to pay my humble tribute to all ranks who served
during that time, short as they were of men, sometimes even putting the
military police into the trenches, to say nothing of the cavalry and
cyclist corps. It was there that we finished off the remainder of what
was the original Prussian Guards, as well as the Bavarian Guards; and
to-day the British nation has to thank those troops who fought so well
during that time, and put a finish to the chance of the Germans ever
reaching Calais, and thence England.
My Regiment entered Ypres not less than one thousand strong, and while
there we had five lots of reinforcements: we came away with only
seventy-five men and one Officer, a Lieutenant. I do not, however, in
my above remarks refer specially to my own Regiment any more than to
any other Regiment in my Brigade or Division--all the Regiments in the
1st Division were splendid: though some may have been a little better
than the others where all were very good.
We went then to relieve the 7th Division after it had fought the
rearguard action from Antwerp, and we were only just in the nick of
time, for the Division had suffered very heavily. Altogether with
reinforcements the 1st Division must have lost thirty thousand men in
stopping the great rush for Calais. When we entered Ypres everything
was normal; but when we came out of it the town was in ruins and
burning furiously in several parts.
At Hazebruck we rested for close on a month. By "rested" I mean away
from the firing line. Of work we had plenty. Two days before leaving
Ypres we were joined by a draft of six hundred from home, which had
been kept behind with the Transport until we should come out of the
firing line. Captain Smart, who was with this draft, took over the
Temporary Commanding Officer's duties during the three-days' march
to Hazebruck, where we arrived in a snowstorm, and were billeted in
private houses at the rear of the railway station and running along
near the line. Whilst there, we received two further large drafts from
England, and we also had a lot of men sent back medically unfit on
account of defective teeth, etc. Even there we were not left in peace,
doing each day either route marches or brigade training. To every
man new clothes and underlinen were issued; and we all had to have a
bath!--an amusing affair, that took place in a rag-shop. A canvas bath
had been rigged up, and each Company took it in turn to bathe, the
water being fetched by the cooks in dixies. We had about four of these
dixies filled with about twenty quarts of water to each bath, with some
strong disinfectant put in it. About one hundred men would bathe to
each bath, the last dozen or so revelling in pea-soup. Every one _had_
to go in--as at that time we all had plenty of live stock crawling over
us--under the eyes of the Company Officer and two or three N.C.O.'s.
Enemy aircraft was continually flying over us, and one Sunday morning
an airman dropped eight bombs, which killed several civilians, mostly
children, and caused sixteen casualties amongst men of my Regiment.
We left Hazebruck on Monday morning by motor omnibuses on December
the twenty-first, going through Merville to Festubert. Four miles
from Festubert we left the buses, and during the afternoon, waiting
on the roadside for orders, we for the first time came across our
Indian troops. The Meerut Division and 4th Corps were operating around
that district. On the cross-roads at Le Touret we waited until dusk,
and then moved up the road about a mile to the Rue-de-L'Epinette,
Festubert, where we were told that each Regiment in the Brigade had
to attack and take at least one trench. From the Rue-de-L'Epinette we
were taken across several fields for about a mile, when the Brigade
made a charge. It had then become dark and we were on ground that we
had never been on before; but we succeeded in taking three lines of
trenches--the Regiment on our left taking one, though that on our right
was not successful. I honestly believe that it was a ruse on the part
of the enemy, as we did not take a single prisoner, and had only a few
casualties ourselves.
That night I was doing duty as an orderly, bringing up the machine-gun
section and also two mess-waiters with refreshments for the Officers.
A funny incident happened on the way up. A house just to the left of
the farm where Battalion Headquarters were posted had caught fire,
and another orderly on the way down from there said to me: "Be
careful which way you go, as I think that house which is burning is
in the German lines; so bear off to the right." This the two waiters
and myself did; and, after tramping along for some time and crossing
several ditches, I gave it up, declaring that I had lost the way. In
front we could see some yew trees lining a ditch about a hundred yards
off, so we made up our minds to go as far as that, and reached the
trees safely; but as we got there bullets began to fall with a plop
into the ground at our feet; so we thought we had better go round the
other side. It was, however, just as bad there, and in front we saw a
trench; so we thought we would investigate a bit. Creeping up quietly
to the parapet, we peeped over: several Germans, unarmed and burdened
with two jugs of coffee and a basket of provisions, greeted our eyes.
We very soon made off back again, and had not gone more than a couple
of hundred yards before we came to a garden surrounding a farm-house.
It turned out to be the very house I was seeking, but of course I could
not then recognize it, as it was night-time, nor was it familiar to me,
as it had been night-time when I first went into it. We were only about
thirty yards off and could hear a babel of sounds, but very unlike the
English language. So I suggested that the best thing we could do was to
lie down under cover of the hedge, and wait until some one came along.
If he proved to be English, well and good; if German, we should have
to get out of it the best way we could. We had not long to wait before
three forms loomed in the distance through the gloom; and then we were
all of a tremble! Fortunately they turned out to be three of our own
Tommies, so we waited till they had passed, and then we went in. Many
a laugh over the affair have those two waiters and myself had on after
occasions.
Next morning, December the twenty-second, we were properly let in. The
enemy commenced to shell us, continuing for some hours; then they came
up in force. Unfortunately, by taking those three lines of trenches
the night before, we had got too far in front; and consequently we
were surrounded before we knew where we were. Anyhow, with bombs and
rifle-fire (our machine-gun section being behind and not in position
by then), we kept them off as long as we could--then we had a run for
it, as the Company on our left had had to give in. There were very few
of us left that day; but our machine-gun soon got into action, and
held the position until reinforcements came up, when the remainder of
us formed up in the Rue-de-L'Epinette. When the roll was called we
numbered one hundred and thirty Officers and men out of eight hundred
and thirty who went into action seventeen hours before. Our C.O., Major
Powell, was very much upset, remarking that there had been a grave
mistake somewhere, and he would immediately go to the General for
satisfaction: we, of course, did not hear how he got on.
That night we were taken to Lacature until all the stragglers had
joined up: they made the Regiment up to about two hundred; and next day
we marched off to Essairs, just the other side of the canal of Bethune,
where we spent a quiet but not joyous Christmas Day, as we felt greatly
the loss we had sustained two days before.