THE CITY AND THE TRENCHES
After the bombardment of Ypres there still remained seven more days
before our memorable nineteen days' sojourn in the ghastly Salient was
to end. And memorable those days certainly were. Nearly every day
brought with it some fresh adventure. For any boy who, like this boy,
craved for excitement, and, while hating war theoretically and disliking
it temperamentally, was not blind to the romance and grand drama of it
all, there was ample satisfaction in the Great War; and perhaps on no
other sector of the line did all the factors which are conducive to
excitement obtain as they did in the dead city of the Salient and the
shell-ploughed fields around it.
My diary of July 14 carries on as follows:
"Up about 2 a.m. Twenty-eight more men in B Company reported sick with
gas, but they were not sent to hospital. The M.O. said that they would
be excused duty to-night and must report sick to-morrow morning. We had
a little more gas in the afternoon. I think a German heavy exploded one
of our own gas dumps near the Canal Bank. A dense cloud of vapour rose
in that vicinity, and we felt the smell slowly drifting towards us in
the almost breathless calm of a bright summer afternoon. Giffin, who was
the senior officer present at the time, ordered respirators on. But it
did not last long, so we went on with our tea.
"In the evening Giffin and I were on a working party with Sergeant
Clews, Sergeant Dawson and forty-five other ranks. We proceeded to
Potijze Dump and drew tools; thence to Pagoda Trench and carried on with
the making of a new trench branching off that trench. All went well for
the first three quarters of an hour. Our guns were pounding the German
trenches the whole time--the first preliminaries in the bombardment
preceding our offensive. But the Germans do not always allow us to have
all our own way in these matters; they always retaliate. And, by Jove,
we did get some retaliation too! At 10.50 p.m. quite suddenly, a heavy
shell exploded just near us; and a regular strafe commenced. I was
standing near a shell-hole at the time, so I immediately crouched where
I was; the men digging at the trench at once took refuge in the trench.
In a few minutes I mustered sufficient courage to make a dash for the
trench. I got there just in time, for, soon afterwards, a shell burst
almost where I had been. They were dropping all round us, both in front
of and behind the trench. Only the trench could possibly have saved us.
And it was a marvel that no one was hurt as it was. I honestly expected
every moment to be my last; it was a miracle that none of our party were
hit. If we had remained out in the open I firmly believe that the whole
lot would have been knocked out. It seemed as if it was never going to
cease. I never went through such a disagreeable experience in my life
before. Then, to crown all, gas shells began to be mixed with the
others. There was soon a regular stink of gas; I smelt it this time all
right. We got our respirators on, which added to our discomfort. This
went on for quite a long time. Then it also began to pour with rain and
we were all drenched. The night was pitch dark. Every now and then the
exploding shells around us and far away, the burning dumps near Ypres
and the star shells along the line, lit up the whole panorama with an
effect like that of lightning. The water and mud grew thick in the
trench; and still the shells fell thickly all around. We were thankful
for the discomfort of rain because it saved us from being gassed."
"July 15th.
"About 1 a.m. Giffin decided, the shelling having slackened a little,
that we had better get down a mine-shaft near; so we stumbled along to
it in anything but a happy frame of mind. Everybody was cursing. Despite
our discomfort, however, the humour of the situation under such
circumstances cannot fail to strike one; I could not help chuckling.
Eventually we got down the mine. It was horribly damp and dirty down
there, but the atmosphere was much clearer; there was no smell of gas.
That was a relief. And we felt much safer here! No heavies could reach
us at such a depth as this. But it was all darkness. We remained in this
subterranean sanctuary for three hours, standing on a water-covered
floor, amidst dripping walls, in the darkness; above us, all the time,
we could hear the dull thud and feel the vibration of the bursting
shells. For want of anything better to pass the time away the men began
to air their opinions about the war to each other. 'We're winning!' 'Are
we heck as like; Billy's winning. Judging from t'newspapers you'd think
t'war was over long since! They keep telling us he's beat; but they want
to come out 'ere and see for 'emselves.... They say t'last seven
years'll be t'worst!' Such was the conversation which was going on.
Others had a sing-song. 'Hi-tiddle-ite! Take me back to Blighty; Blighty
is the place for me!' rang out with great enthusiasm from the darkness
underground.
"When we did go upstairs again daylight had dawned. We left the mine at
4.20 a.m. Giffin went, with one or two men, back to the trench to
replace the camouflage; he told me to get back to the Ramparts with the
remainder as quickly as possible. I did so. We went along the road all
the way from Potijze to Ypres. We were literally chased by gas-shells;
we had to run in respirators as fast as we could go; we came round by
the Menin Gate and got back into the Ramparts, safe and sound, about
4.45, very thankful that nobody in our party had got hurt. Other
battalions out on working parties had had a good many casualties. One
party of the King's Own had had one killed and eleven wounded by one
shell on the Canal Bank.
"When I got back to the Mess dug-out I found Captain Andrews, Dickinson,
and Allen all sitting there. They had not been to bed. They had had a
deuce of a time. The shells had been falling here as well--also the gas.
But due precautions against gas had this time been taken! Captain
Andrews declared that the rain had saved the lives of hundreds of men.
Giffin got back soon after me. He is feeling the gas. We all got to bed
about 6 a.m....
"It was 3 in the afternoon when I got up. Before rising I read nine
letters which were awaiting me--_some_ post!"
After describing the happenings of the previous night in a letter
written home that Sunday afternoon (July 15) I went on to say: "I shall
pull through all these exciting little episodes all right. I am quite
all right so far. Cheer up! Better times in store! We all look forward
to that great day 'When war shall be no more.' It will be a glorious day
when, at last, peace is attained. I am looking forward to the happy days
to come and intend to have a good time then. We are now going through
the storm. But there is a calm ahead: 'Peace shall follow battle, Night
shall end in day.'"
My diary of July 15 carries on:
"In the evening I went on a working party with Allen. It was a case of
extending the trench in Pagoda Wood another fifty yards. We set to work
at 10 a.m. Our guns were bombarding the enemy trenches most of the time,
but there were not many shells coming from the enemy. A few fell some
hundred to two hundred yards away during the night. Our chief annoyance
on this occasion was a German machine-gun firing from Kaiser Bill. It
swept our trench completely. One man in my platoon, Berry by name, was
wounded in the leg. It was a wonder there were no more casualties: the
bullets were flying amongst us in great profusion. But they were mostly
low, so not very dangerous. 'This is the place for "Blighties"!'
Lance-Corporal Livesey encouragingly observed to me while they were
whistling round us. We stayed at the job quite a long time. I was
beginning to wonder when Allen was going to pronounce it finished; the
men were obviously fed up. At last he let half the party go at 2.30 a.m.
and told me to take them back. We returned by the road all the way from
Potijze to the Menin Gate. It was 3 a.m. when we got back to the
Ramparts. It was getting quite light. Allen followed on with the
remainder about half an hour later; he came through the fields. We had
some refreshment and then went to bed."
"July 16th.
"I did not get up until 3 p.m. this afternoon. Since 8 Platoon has
practically ceased to exist owing to gas casualties, 7 and 8 are again
combined under Giffin, and I am second-in-command. Baldwin remains
platoon sergeant. If and when we get sufficient reinforcements the two
platoons will separate again.
"The Germans have been bombarding Poperinghe with very big shells
to-day. The shops, I hear, are all shut. It looks as if they intend to
destroy the town. Our great bombardment of the enemy trenches is in
progress."
That evening I wrote a lengthy letter home. In the course of it I said:
"The padre is in hospital at present, having been wounded by a shell in
the streets of the city the other day. It is only a very slight wound,
so he will not be in hospital long. With regard to the four officers who
were wounded on July 1--Ronald is in hospital in Bristol doing well;
Halstead, with a wound in the stomach, is going to 'Blighty' shortly;
Barker and Wood are very bad indeed, the former was given up altogether
the other day. They are much too bad to cross the water yet. We were all
amused to read in the _Manchester Guardian_ that Halstead had been
lately in the Army Ordnance Corps; it is, of course, incorrect.
"Whenever Colonel Best-Dunkley or Major Brighten come into our Mess they
always ask me what I think of the war and when I think it is going to
end. They came in yesterday. Colonel Best-Dunkley, with his customary
squint and twitch of the nose (I have been told that he contracted this
habit as the result of shell-shock on the Somme), said: 'Well, "General
Floyd," what do you think of the war? How long is it going to last?' I
replied: 'February, 1918.' They then always give vent to great
amusement, especially when I mention Palestine; but I really think this
sinister commanding officer is not at all badly disposed towards me; in
fact I am inclined to think that he likes me! I do not dislike him at
all.
"I am Orderly Officer to-night so am now going to bed. The Germans are
sending copious gas shells over while I am writing this, but we have
got the gas curtain down in our dug-out and it has been sprayed; all
precautions have been taken; so we ought to be all right. There is also
a good deal of shelling of a heavier kind going on; our guns are giving
the German trenches hell at present; we have kept up a consistent
bombardment all day. The Germans are giving us some back now; but I feel
quite safe in this dug-out! I am glad I am not on a working party
to-night. So good night! Again I say, 'cheer up!' It's a funny world we
live in!"
My diary of July 17 states:
"Up 11 a.m. Had breakfast while dressing. Reconnoitred the road; all
correct. At 1.10 p.m. I reported to Captain Warburton at Brigade
Headquarters about a working party for which I was detailed. Carberry,
the Brigade bombing officer, explained to me what was to be done. At
1.30 I set off with a party of Sergeant Clews and thirty-four other
ranks including Corporal Chamley and Lance-Corporal Topping. The job
consisted of carrying boxes of bombs from a dump at the junction of
Milner Walk and the road to White Chateau; then detonating bombs which
were not already detonated; then carrying S.A.A. from one spot to
another about twenty yards away. I left Corporal Chamley in charge of
the first dump, where the men left their equipment. I went backwards
and forwards myself. On one occasion, while I was at the junction of
Milner Walk and the road, General Stockwell appeared. He asked me what
we were doing; I told him; he expressed himself satisfied and proceeded
up the trench. It was a very hot day and I felt very tired. My head
began to ache. We finished at 5.30 p.m. Then we came back. Our guns were
blazing away all day, making a great row. It was 6.30 when we got back
to the Ramparts. I reported to Carberry at Brigade. I felt very bad
indeed now. The exercise in the heat, after gas, was taking effect upon
me. I did not have any dinner, but lay down. I was told that I looked
white. I felt rotten. Giffin also is bad; he got some more gas last
night. A good many more have reported sick with gas to-day. I think I
have got a slight touch of it now. However, as the evening advanced I
began to feel much better. By midnight I felt quite well again."
On July 18 I wrote home as follows: "More gas shells came over last
night. We had the gas curtains down again, but, even so, gas is bound to
get in. There are fresh gas casualties every day. The number is rising
rapidly. Giffin has, at last, reported sick with gas and has departed to
hospital to-day--another officer less! So now instead of having no
platoon at all I find myself in command of the two, 7 and 8!"
I never saw Lieutenant Giffin again. I shook hands with him in the
dug-out and said good-bye when he announced that he had reported sick
and was going down the line. He went away and never returned; I have
heard absolutely nothing of him since.
"Our guns have been blazing away all night, and are still pounding the
enemy lines. Our bombardment is now going full swing. But the Germans
are sending shells over too. Five B Company men were wounded by one
shell, just outside, this morning. One of them was Hartshorne. He has
got four shrapnel wounds and is off to hospital. I have been speaking to
him this afternoon. He said that they were hurting a little, but he
seemed quite happy about it. He said that he wished he was in hospital
in Middleton! It is nothing very serious; it should prove a nice
'Blighty' case!
"The padre is now back from hospital! He has not been there long, has
he?
"A few of those men who went to hospital with gas on July 13 were marked
for 'Blighty' and were just off, when General Jeudwine stopped them and
said that as few as possible from this Division must be sent home at
present. So, instead of going back, they have turned up here again as
'fit.' Hard luck!"
My diary of the same date (July 18) states that in the afternoon "I went
on a working party with Sergeant Clews and fifteen men. We were filling
in shell-holes on the road near St. Jean. After we had filled in a few
we got shelled. We took refuge behind an artillery dug-out for about an
hour. The shells were falling close all the time. One fell less than six
yards from me. I quite thought we were going to have some casualties,
but the only one we had was one man who got a scratch in the arm with a
piece of shrapnel. At 5.15 we decided to come back via a trench, as the
shelling was still going on. All got back safely. But it is most
disconcerting--one cannot go out on a little job like that in the
afternoon without having the wind put up us vertical! I had tea and
dinner. Then to bed. I felt very hot and could not get to sleep. Allen
returned from a working party at 10.15 p.m. There was a strafe on at
10.30; the German trenches were being raided in four places."
The following day, July 19, I wrote to my mother as follows:
"I got up at 2.30 a.m. this morning, and with Sergeant Clews's working
party filled in the remaining shell-holes (outside Hasler House). We had
a moderately quiet time. Only about three shells burst anywhere near us
the whole time. Yet we were working in broad daylight! We got back at
5.45 and I then went to bed again. I had breakfast in bed. Then some
post arrived: a letter from Father dated July 16 and the enclosed from
Norman Floyd. As I expected, he, too, is now in the Army; has been for
some months. He is in the 74th Training Reserve Battalion, and is
thinking of going in for a commission. I have advised him to do so--in a
letter which I have just written to him.
"I got up at midday and had lunch. The afternoon I took easy. The padre
was in for tea. While we were having tea newspapers arrived. Captain
Andrews opened the _Daily Mail_ and exclaimed with horror: 'Good
heavens! Churchill's been appointed Minister of Munitions!'
"'Hurrah!' I exclaimed, nearly tumbling off my seat in my excitement.
"'Good God! How awful!' dolefully exclaimed the padre, looking at me in
amazement that I should express satisfaction at such a catastrophe.
'What? Are you pleased to hear that Churchill is in office again?'
inquired he and Dickinson in surprise!
"'Rather! he's one of our two most brilliant statesmen,' I replied.
"Thereupon an argument began and continued throughout tea. I must say I
never admired Lloyd George more than I do at this moment when, in face
of most bitter public opposition, he has had the courage to give office
to Churchill. I admire him for it.
"The new appointments are certainly of a sensational nature. Carson
leaves the Admiralty and enters the War Cabinet as Minister of
Reconstruction (whatever that may mean!). Montagu becomes Secretary of
State for India in Austen Chamberlain's place. Then the most startling
thing of all--the wonderful Sir Eric Geddes becomes First Lord of the
Admiralty! That is very significant indeed. The appointment of that
extraordinary production of the war to the Admiralty at this particular
moment is not, I think, unconnected with the forthcoming operations. I
leave you to surmise what I mean. Churchill has now once more set foot
upon the ladder, despite popular prejudice. Watch him now. He will not
rest until he has mounted to the top. It is really delightful. How angry
everybody will be! Do, please, pull their legs about it for me! But
watch also Sir Eric Geddes. He is one of the most remarkable men of our
time--general, admiral, statesman!
"I am rather amused at the change in the Royal Name: our Royal Family is
now to be known as the Royal House of Windsor! It does strike me as
pandering somewhat to popular prejudice. That King George should change
his name to Windsor cannot change the fact of his ancestry; he is still
a member of the Royal House of Coburg, to which King Albert of Belgium
and King Manoel of Portugal belong: no legal document can alter the
facts of heredity! not that I think any the worse of him because he is a
Coburg. However, the Royal House of Windsor will be peculiarly the
British Royal Family and will probably marry amongst the British
nobility. To that I have no objection whatever, as I have said before.
"No, I have not seen the King or the Queen out here; but I knew that the
Queen was inspecting the hospitals in the town where we get off the
train for this part of the front.
"Talking of hospitals--the Padre says that Barker is not expected to
live many hours longer. The other three are pulling through. We have got
another officer gas casualty to-day. Kerr, who has been suffering from
the effects of gas ever since July 12, has reported sick to-day and has
gone to hospital for a fortnight. One by one we diminish! I feel quite
all right.
"I was talking to Sergeant Brogden--the new gas N.C.O.--last night. He
comes from Middleton Junction. He says that he was in the Church Lads
Brigade at St. Gabriel's.
"I have been reading the leading article about popular scapegoats in the
_Church Times_, and I agree with it. I think the young Duke of Argyll's
attack on Archbishop Davidson in the _Sunday Herald_ was conspicuous
rather for venom than for good taste.
"Earl Curzon's speech in the Lords on Mesopotamia I thought very sober
and statesmanlike indeed. I read it in the _Times_."
The next day (July 20) I wrote home as follows:
"We actually had no working parties to take last night. How considerate
of the Brigade-Major! So we had a good night's sleep. And we have not
done anything particular to-day. We are going to have a change at last.
After twenty days in the line we are going out to-night, and are going
to have a few days in a rest camp some distance behind. The place to
which we are going on this occasion is nothing like as far back as we
were last month; but I can assure you it is a perfectly _safe_ distance.
So you need not worry. I can tell you it has been _some_ twenty days! I
have never experienced such a twenty days before; and I am glad to be
looking back upon them, writing during the last few hours, rather than
at the beginning. We are all glad to be going out again. General
Stockwell has ordered that we have three days' complete rest; and Sir
Hubert Gough has issued an order that on no account are the men in his
Army to be worked more than four hours per day, inclusive of marching to
and from parade ground, while out of the line. So the prospect is
bright. It is now 4.10, and we are going to have tea. Our bombardment is
still making a great row."
My diary of the same date (July 20) states:
"At 4.30 p.m. Captain Briggs, Dickinson, Allen, Sergeant Donovan and I
walked via Wells Cross Roads, La Brique (where our guns were very close
together, their sound almost deafening us as we passed them), to
Liverpool Trench. Here we reconnoitred our starting points for the
forthcoming push. Then Allen and I went on with Sergeant Donovan up
Threadneedle Street to Bilge Trench. We watched, through glasses, the
German line going up in smoke. In present-day warfare I certainly think
that artillery is the most formidable arm of the Service; it is
artillery which is the chief factor deciding success or failure in all
the great battles in the West. It is even now preparing the way for us.
After having had a look round from over the parapet in Bilge Trench we
returned the same way we had come; and we actually got safely back to
the Ramparts without having any adventures whatever!"
When we got back to the Ramparts our tour in the line was at an end. All
we had to do now was await the arrival of relief. And a very pleasant
sensation, indeed, that is to weary soldiers! The sensation of "relief"
is the happiest of all the various sensations one had "out there." There
were just a few hours of irritating expectancy to live through--followed
sometimes, as at Givenchy in 1918, by some boring experience such as a
"stand to" in some particular, and generally uninviting, positions--and
then one would be free, safe and in a position and condition to enjoy a
delightful sleep: free and safe for a few days, until the all too soon
moment for return should come!