FRANCE
(_March-August 1917_)
The voyage westward across the Mediterranean was made under conditions
widely different from those of the outward journey of September 1914,
when “glory of youth glowed in the soul,” and the glamour of the East and
the call of the unknown had made their appeal to adventurous spirits.
Familiarity with war had destroyed illusion and had robbed it of most of
its romance. The Lancashire Territorials had a very good idea of what to
expect in France or Flanders, and were prepared to face minor discomforts
and worries with the inevitable grousing which proclaims that all is
well, and real privations, perils, and horrors with steadfastness often
masked by levity. Though the Mediterranean was at that period infested
by enemy submarines, the vigilance of the British and French navies
proved a sure shield. One torpedo only was fired at the troopships, and
this passed between the log-line and the stern of the _Megantic_. A call
was made at Malta, and on March 1 the first transport anchored in the
magnificent harbour of Marseilles, and D.H.Q. at once entrained for the
North of France.
The railway journey of sixty hours to Pont Remy, near Abbéville, will
not be forgotten. Men who had at much cost become acclimatized to the
intense heat and dryness of the Sinai Desert, were suddenly plunged into
the opposite extreme of an arctic climate. The winter of 1917 was one
of the most prolonged and severe on record, and throughout the tedious
journey in French troop-trains the men shivered and trembled with the
bitter cold. But if France greeted them freezingly there was no mistaking
the warmth of the welcome of her sons and daughters. Wherever the trains
stopped the inhabitants gathered round to cheer them on their way. The
news of the fall of Bagdad had preceded them, and the French women and
girls, old men and children, knew that these were victorious British
reinforcements from the East, and Bagdad and Sinai were equally remote.
The troops detrained at Pont Remy in a storm of snow and sleet, and
marched through deep, freezing slush to the villages in which billets had
been prepared. After six months’ experience of open bivouacs wherever
the day’s trek ended, the barn billets were something of a novelty.
Reorganization and re-equipment were, of course, the most urgent matters
to be dealt with, and the refit was carried out expeditiously. The short
Lee-Enfield rifle displaced the longer rifle with which the Division had
been armed; and the issue of two strange items, the “tin hat” and the box
respirator, provoked some hilarity. Baths, each capable of washing sixty
men per hour, were erected by the R.E., and henceforward the Division
left its mark in the shape of new or remodelled baths in every area in
which it was located. The Divisional Cinematograph and Canteen were also
inaugurated here. The last troops from Egypt, the 5th East Lancashires
and the 9th Manchesters, arrived on March 15. A new Divisional Train
joined from England. This train had already had considerable experience
of France, as it had been formed to join the Lahore Division in September
1914. Motor ambulances were supplied to the three Field Ambulances, and
a complete train of motor-lorries was attached to the Division. The 42nd
Divisional Ammunition Column was formed from a nucleus of the former
Brigade Ammunition Columns with the addition of a large draft from the
R.A. Base in France. A Heavy (9·45-inch) Trench Mortar Battery and three
Medium (6-inch) T.M. Batteries were also formed here, and these became
a part of the Divisional Artillery. Three Light T.M. Batteries were
attached to the Infantry Brigades.
[Sidenote: _General Douglas’s Farewell_]
On the arrival of the Division in France Major-General Sir William
Douglas left for England in order to give evidence before the Royal
Commission appointed to inquire into the Dardanelles Campaign. Temporary
command of the Division was taken over by Brig.-General H. C. Frith,
C.B. (125th Brigade), until the arrival of Major-General B. R. Mitford,
C.B., D.S.O., who assumed command about the middle of March. Much regret
was felt by officers and men that the general, who had been responsible
for the training and organization of the Division in time of peace, and
under whose leadership during two and a half years of war it had served
with distinction in two campaigns and had “made good,” should be unable
to lead them to the gaining of fresh laurels on the most important of
all fronts. They had been fortunate in a commander who had ever taken
a personal interest in the welfare of all ranks under his command, and
who had identified himself with the Lancashire men and was jealous of
their good name. That General Douglas regarded his officers and men with
affection is clearly shown in his farewell message—
“In bidding the 42nd Division good-bye I wish to express
my heartfelt thanks to my Staff Officers, Commanders, and
Regimental Officers for their loyal and whole-hearted support
and superb work during the period of my command. My admiration
for the conduct, fighting qualities, grit, and endurance of all
ranks is profound. Never have I met a more responsive, willing
and lovable lot of men than these Lancashire lads, and, to my
last days, I shall remember with affection and pride the three
and three-quarter years that I have had the honour to command
them. I know how well you, officers and men, will add to the
great name you have already earned for the Division, I wish you
the best of good fortune and a rich reward.”
Towards the end of March the Division moved to an area some ten miles
east of Amiens, D.H.Q. being established at Mericourt. The 42nd was now
a veteran Division in war and in travel, but in the trenches of France
it was in the position of a new boy at a strange school. It had learnt
much in the old school, and the experience would be useful. Each unit
had a record and tradition of which it had good reason to be proud,
and the commanders knew that their officers and men could be relied
upon. Endurance and courage had been severely tested, but the endurance
required for slogging through deep sand under a tropical sun was of a
very different nature from that which would now be demanded, and the
intense heat of the desert was a poor preparation for the bitter winds,
the snow, sleet and freezing mud of the trenches of France. Much had to
be learnt in the new school, and much unlearnt.
In Gallipoli the opposing trenches had often been only a few yards apart,
and rifle-fire had continued all day and increased in violence at night.
In that sector of the Western Front taken over by the Division the
recent withdrawal of the enemy had created a No Man’s Land, which might
be anything from 10 yards to 1000 in width, and unaimed rifle-fire was
uncommon. Here, too, patrolling was a matter of nightly routine, whereas
in Gallipoli more than an occasional patrol had been impossible. Two of
the most novel features were the gas and the amount of H.E. shelling.
It was the Division’s first experience of gas, and on rare occasions
only had it witnessed _annihilating_ shell-fire. Never before had any
of the original members been in billets, and they found them and their
inhabitants a source of interest and comfort. Some felt hurt that the
bits of Arabic picked up in the East were of no use here, and they
resolutely refused to learn any French. “I’ve learnt Gyppo, and I’m not
going to bother with any more foreign languages.” Imagine their delight
when on leave in Amiens they found that the paper-boys (who had come into
contact with the Australians) knew the meaning of “_Imshi!_” This word,
being the imperative of the Arabic verb “to walk,” did duty for “’op it!”
Possibly the most striking differences of all were that the Division got
reinforcements after suffering casualties, and was able to get back into
“rest” of a real kind after a trying time in the line.
The strength of the Division on April 1 was 727 officers and 16,689 other
ranks.
[Sidenote: _New Experiences_]
Advance parties had been sent ahead of the Division, and now other
parties of officers, N.C.O.s and men were attached for short periods to
battalions and units of the 1st Division in the front line trenches that
they might see and understand the conditions of warfare on the Western
Front, before the Division should be called upon to take its place in the
line that stretched from the Belgian coast to Switzerland. The enemy’s
retirement from the Somme and the Ancre to the Hindenburg Line had upset
the plans of the Allies for a spring offensive. The recently-vacated
German trenches were visited, and the scenes of appalling devastation,
the shattered remains of what had once been flourishing villages
and farmsteads, gave the troops their first impressions of France’s
martyrdom, and filled them with indignation and loathing. They had heard
and read of the ruin and desolation in Belgium and Northern France, but
the half had not been told. The wanton destruction of fruit-trees and the
desecration of cemeteries were acts dictated not by military necessity
but by beastliness of mind.
Throughout this preparatory period the troops were kept busily employed
upon the badly damaged roads, and—as occasional opportunity offered—in
the attempt to make the _entente_ still more _cordiale_. Feuillieres,
Biaches, Herbecourt, Flaucourt, Dompierre, and Peronne were visited by
various units, and the sappers constructed bridges to take heavy guns
and lorry traffic over the Somme at Brie and elsewhere. Not only had the
enemy blown craters at most of the cross-roads, but, east of Peronne,
he had felled the trees that line the main French roads, and these had
to be removed. This work of clearing up after the German retreat was of
great importance, and the Division gained an insight into conditions on
the Western Front as the troops approached the line. Where possible the
ruins of farms and houses, swarming with rats, were used as billets,
but the road-makers usually slept in cellars, dugouts, and holes. The
wretched weather continued and there was heavy snow in April. The horses,
so long accustomed to an eastern climate, suffered greatly and began
to deteriorate, some succumbing to pneumonia. The boots which had been
issued just before leaving Egypt were quite unsuited to a bad winter
in Northern France, and they fell to pieces quickly. Each day a number
of men had to remain in billets until new boots could be obtained from
Ordnance Stores. A number of officers and men, however, refused to be
worried by such insignificant details as boots, for were they not going
home for the first time since September 1914? During the month batches
of these veterans departed for fourteen days amid the rousing cheers of
their comrades.
At Peronne, where D.H.Q. was opened on April 14, every building was badly
damaged except the Town Hall, which was at once placed out of bounds
because of this immunity, as any place that appeared to invite occupation
was regarded with suspicion, owing to the typical Boche habit of leaving
delayed-action mines and other “booby-traps.” Peronne Town Hall did not,
however, go sky-high, as was daily expected. In the village of Peiziere
some officers of the 126th Brigade took up their quarters in a house
that had been left in good condition. Fortunately one of them took the
precaution to explore and found a quantity of high explosive hidden under
the beams. They cleared out. Next day a shell dropped on the building and
it vanished. An R.A.M.C. orderly in the vicinity was lifted several feet
in the air by the force of the explosion. “Eh, that wur a near do!” he
said, as he picked himself up carefully and resumed his journey.
The Division now formed part of the 3rd Corps of the Fourth Army. On
the 8th of April the 125th Brigade took over a portion of the line from
the 48th Division at Epéhy, in front of Le Catelet, and a few days
later the 126th Brigade also went into the line, in order that as many
battalions as possible might have a short experience of front-line
conditions before the Division as a whole assumed responsibility for a
sector. The front here had become practically stationary, and as neither
side had a continuous trench system the connecting of posts proceeded
nightly, and patrolling and digging were the chief diversions. The 7th
Lancashire Fusiliers was the first battalion to go into the line, which
they advanced, after a sharp skirmish, to a copse about half a mile
ahead. They were relieved on April 12-13 by the 6th L.F., and during the
relief Malassise Farm, in which were a number of men of both battalions,
was heavily shelled. The building was destroyed, and the fall of the
roof buried about fifty of these men in the cellar. Though the shelling
continued with great violence, admirable courage was shown in extricating
the buried men, and for this the Military Medal was awarded to a private
of each battalion. The Division’s first trench raid on the Western Front
was made by the 4th East Lancashires at Epéhy. On April 28 the 126th
Brigade advanced their line successfully, but the 4th and 5th East
Lancashires suffered rather heavily.
Throughout April the wintry weather continued, but the unfailing spirit
of the British soldier under depressing conditions is shown in the
following anecdote related by an officer of the 4th East Lancashires:
“The rain was pouring into my dugout, and the water slowly rising, so to
avoid a fit of the blues I went along the line to see how the men were
faring. A sentry was standing in mud half up to his knees, his hands
numbed and wet, and a stream of water ran from his tin hat. By way of
comparing notes I asked this pitiable spectacle what he really felt like.
‘Like a flower in May, sir,’ was the cheerful reply, and I was cured of
the blues.”
On May 3 the Division took over from the 48th Division a sector in the
neighbourhood of Ronnsoy, south-east of Epéhy. As Brig.-General Ormsby
was engaged in marking out the new front line of his Brigade near Catelet
Copse, the enemy suddenly opened a bombardment, and he was struck in the
head by a piece of shell and killed. General Ormsby had been in command
of the Brigade for more than twelve months, and during that period he
had become very popular with his men and had gained their respect and
admiration. Lieut.-Colonel H. C. Darlington, 5th Manchesters, once more
assumed temporary command until the arrival of Brig.-General the Hon. A.
M. Henley, who remained in command of the 127th Brigade until the end of
the war.
Two brigades were in the front line and one in reserve, with a system of
four-day reliefs. The long winter was over at last; summer had arrived
without any introduction by spring, and the weather was now gloriously
hot. There was a good deal of local fighting, especially around
Guillemont Farm, an enemy post which more than one division had found by
no means difficult to capture, but exceedingly difficult to hold. Several
night attacks were made by companies and platoons, in one of which, on
the night of May 6-7, the 9th Manchesters established forward posts in
the face of heavy machine-gun fire, and Private A. Holden was awarded the
Bar to the M.M. for volunteering to bring in the wounded, and afterwards
going out into the open to make sure that none had been missed. He found
a wounded officer and helped to carry him 400 yards on a heavily shelled
road, and went out again to assist another injured man to safety. He
succeeded in this, but was himself wounded. The enemy artillery was
generally active, and on one occasion some men of the 126th Brigade were
quite grateful to the German gunners. A heavy shell, which fell among
some ruined cottages, threw up a number of gold and silver coins, dated a
hundred years ago and evidently a long-buried hoard.
[Sidenote: _Epéhy and Ytres_]
On May 23 D.H.Q. moved to Ytres, about eight miles north-west of Epéhy,
the Division relieving the 20th Division on a newly-captured sector
running from the Canal du Nord, south-west of Havrincourt, to a point
south of Villers Plouich, through Trescault and Beaucamp; and here the
Division remained until July 8. This was a fairly quiet sector, and
during the first few weeks there was no event of any importance to vary
the daily round of digging, wiring, and strengthening the trench system
and the patrolling of No Man’s Land. Havrincourt Wood in the spring
of 1917 remained a very beautiful spot amid the chaos of war. Though
the “hate” of the Boche was less demonstrative than in many sectors
his trench-mortars and machine-guns were generally busy at night,
and considerable annoyance was caused on the right of the line by a
trench-mortar which—so it was conjectured—was brought up every night on
a light railway, and taken back after a few shots had been fired. At
sunrise the clamour of the guns ceased and the birds at once “took over,”
the cuckoo being particularly active. Nightingales were common here and
in the copses in the line, and as they seemed to regard machine-guns as
rival vocalists, they would sing in competition. The bell-like whistle
of the black and yellow golden oriole was often heard, and in the centre
of the wood the war at times seemed far enough away. The A.S.C. turned
their hands to hay-making, and helped to cut and harvest some acres of
excellent clover, rye, and lucerne. The 3rd Field Ambulance were more
envied by their fellows, as they harvested—for their own consumption—the
crop of a very prolific strawberry bed in the garden of the ruined villa
which they inhabited at Ruyalcourt.
A quartermaster of the 127th Brigade had chosen the ruins of a farm at
a cross-roads near Havrincourt Wood for his dump. He was warned by the
Town Major that this spot had probably been mined by the enemy, and
particularly warned not to make use of the cellar, which was a likely
place for a “booby-trap.” However, nothing happened, and of course his
men not only went into the cellar but took planks and bricks therefrom to
improve their quarters in the rooms above. One evening the Q.M. returned
from the line to find his staff in a state of nervous collapse. As soon
as he had prevailed upon them to sit up and take a little nourishment
they related this painful story: The former owner, armed with documents
and accompanied by gendarmes and British Military Police, had visited
the old home, descended into the cellar, and dug up jars containing
jewellery, coins, and banknotes, within a few inches of the spot from
which the storemen had taken the planks. The butcher had even held a
candle to assist the search, and his reflections on “what might have
been,” as the jars of buried treasure were brought to light, completely
unnerved him, especially when the owner handed him a couple of francs
with thanks for the trouble he had so kindly taken. For some time after
this these storemen displayed a rabbit-like tendency to burrow in any old
corner, but luck was not with them.
One night when the Brigadier of the 127th Brigade was in the front line
the enemy put down a fierce bombardment of gas shells and H.E. The night
was dark, but calm and clear, and large working parties were out wiring
and digging. These came back “hell for leather,” and General Henley
found his passage through the trench cut off by the crowds. Colonel
Dobbin, deeming the scene unseemly for a Brigadier, suggested a dash
over the top. Unfortunately fresh wire had just been put down, and,
close to the support line where the long-range shells were dropping,
both fell heavily into a double apron-fence. They extricated themselves
painfully, leaving portions of clothing and some blood on the wire, and
eventually arrived, “improperly dressed,” at Battalion Headquarters, to
be met by the adjutant with the tactless remark: “There has been a bit
of a bombardment, sir, but it doesn’t concern our front.” The Brigadier,
who limped for several days, suggested that his companion should write
a sketch of the episode under the title, “_Young officers taking their
pleasures lightly_.” Though the Colonel did not take advantage of the
suggestion, another officer did.
Brig.-General H. C. Frith, C.B., returned to England in June to assume
command of a Home Service Brigade, and Brig.-General H. Fargus, C.M.G.,
D.S.O., took command of the 125th Brigade until the end of the war.
General Frith was the last of the General Officers who had served with
the Division from the outbreak of war. For three years he had commanded
the Lancashire Fusilier Brigade, which had become much attached to
him, for he was quick to recognize and give credit for good work, and
he possessed a remarkable memory for faces, invariably knowing each
officer by name after the first meeting. The 6th Manchesters learnt with
regret that their popular M.O., Captain A. H. Norris, M.C., who was
home on leave, had been retained by the War Office for duty at home.
A better-known and better-liked Medical Officer never served with any
battalion, and the regret was not confined to officers and men of the
battalion, for the sick and wounded of many units were grateful for the
energy, solicitude and complete disregard of self—and of red tape—which
he had displayed in looking after their comfort and welfare in Egypt,
Gallipoli, Sinai, and France.
[Sidenote: _The Front Advanced, June 1917_]
On the 1st of June the order was received to advance the divisional front
by about 300 yards, the operation to be completed by 6 a.m. on the 10th.
The order indicated that strong opposition might be expected, and details
were left to the Brigadiers. The 126th Brigade on the right adopted the
orthodox method of sapping forward each night, making a T-head at each
sap to connect and form a continuous line later. The expectations of
opposition were realized. Photographs taken by enemy planes brought heavy
trench-mortar and machine-gun fire on the working-parties, and serious
casualties were inflicted. A position near Femy Wood was occupied at
night by the enemy, who were thence able to harass the working-parties.
On the evening of June 3rd Corporal A. Eastwood, 9th Manchesters, took a
patrol of three men to this point and lay down to await events. At 9.30
p.m. a German patrol emerged from the wood. The corporal ordered his men
to hold their fire until the enemy were within thirty paces, when they
opened fire with good effect, and remained until 2.30 a.m. covering the
work and silencing a machine-gun and snipers. The hard and rocky nature
of the ground in this part of the line was a further obstacle, but in
spite of all difficulties good progress was made, and the troops were
complimented upon their work by the Chief Engineer of the Corps. On the
left, Brig.-General Henley, profiting by the experience of the 126th
Brigade, decided to complete his part of the operation at one bound. On
the night of the 8th-9th he advanced his line the full distance, and
all four battalions of the 127th Brigade began to dig in furiously. The
covering party was in position at 10.30 p.m., and digging began at 11
p.m. under the supervision of the 427th Field Company, R.E. Before dawn
twelve outposts on a front of 1500 yards were linked up by a continuous
trench, and, leaving a skeleton garrison in the new trench, the companies
returned to their positions practically unharmed. The finishing touches
were added next night, and the new line was completed by the stated hour.
This good work was rewarded by a Special Order of the Day from the Corps
Commander.
The night patrolling in No Man’s Land furnished admirable opportunities
for testing and training officers and men. These patrols appealed to
many adventurous spirits, while others looked forward to their first
experience with natural apprehension. Many patrols were therefore sent
out with the primary object of giving the men confidence and experience,
and this policy was completely successful. There was also a considerable
amount of sniping, especially in the vicinity of Havrincourt Wood,
where German snipers for a time had the advantage and made the most of
their opportunities. They were, however, beaten at the game by Sergeant
Durrans, 6th L.F., who on June 14 crept 450 yards into the long grass in
No Man’s Land and patiently bided his time. When the snipers disclosed
their positions by firing he gave a fine display of marksmanship for two
and a half hours and picked off half a dozen of them. He was wounded in
the right knee.
On the night of June 12 an officer of the 5th Manchesters, who were then
holding the “Slag Heap,” was detailed to reconnoitre Wigan Copse, in No
Man’s Land, examine the wire—concealed by the long grass—and find the
gaps. He led a party of six men to the copse, but could find no gaps,
the wire being apparently uninjured. He crawled round it to the back of
the copse, and eventually discovered an opening through which he crept,
accompanied by a corporal, the rest of the party being posted outside.
A narrow trench and some rough shelters were located, but there was no
sign of life until the officer, desiring to take back a souvenir of his
visit, disturbed a pile of stick-bombs. A tarpaulin then moved and a
voice challenged them. The officer fired several shots with his revolver,
and yells indicated that at least one of the Germans had been hit. The
fire was returned, and in a moment the wood seemed alive with the enemy.
As the exit was too close to the German front line for comfort the patrol
crept away and lay in the long grass until the noise died down, when they
withdrew untouched. On the following afternoon the enemy guns registered
on the copse, and in the evening bombarded the British line and put down
a box-barrage, under cover of which a company of the enemy charged the
copse, yelling “Hands up, the English!” They suffered severely from rifle
and Lewis-gun fire. Information was obtained later from prisoners that
the garrison of the copse had been so scared by the sudden appearance
of Englishmen in the wood that they had bolted, and had reported
that the British were in possession of the post. Hence the elaborate
counter-attack of the empty copse.
In the afternoon of June 22 a particularly daring raid was carried out by
Sergeant J. Sugden (later Lieutenant) of the 10th Manchesters. Annoyance
had been caused by a small trench-mortar, and as it was suspected that
this was fired from a derelict elephant hut a few hundred yards from our
most forward post, Sugden—a born scout—resolved to make sure. He found
that there was a sentry guarding a dug-out near to the elephant hut,
and that the man seemed inclined to take his duties easily. Returning,
he chose two companions, whom he posted on a flank, while he crawled
unobserved to within a few yards of the dug-out. He then quietly informed
the sentry, in fluent German, that he was covered, and that he would be
shot if he showed the slightest hesitation in obeying orders. He showed
none, so Sugden ordered the other occupants of the post to come out with
their hands up. At first they seemed inclined to dispute the matter,
until told that they were surrounded and that unless they obeyed promptly
they would quickly find themselves blown into a region even lower than
their dugout. The threat had its effect; they meekly obeyed, and Sugden
had the satisfaction of bringing four very sullen Germans, carrying
a trench-mortar, across No Man’s Land in broad daylight. The Corps
Commander sent a complimentary letter to the Battalion Commander praising
the initiative and the aggressive tactics of his men, and congratulated
Sugden personally, and also gave him special leave for fourteen days.
[Sidenote: _Night Patrols and Raids_]
At the end of June the 7th Manchesters were instructed to supply a party
to raid Wigan Copse and bring back three prisoners. Lieutenant A. Hodge
(later Lieut.-Colonel, commanding 1/8th Manchesters), who was chosen to
carry out the raid, gave his men some realistic preliminary training. At
11 p.m. on July 3 the guns opened on the enemy’s lines behind the copse,
and Hodge’s platoon, after a crawl of more than half an hour, rushed the
copse. Its occupants tried to bolt, but the box-barrage hemmed them in
and they had to choose between fighting and surrender. One young German,
who had been lying in the grass on outpost duty, was so scared that in
his fright he rose and attached himself to the Manchesters, until Hodge
took him by the scruff of the neck and flung him to the man behind.
But no one wanted the Boche, so he was flung from one to another until
finally one of the covering party held him captive. After five minutes’
rough-and-tumble, in which none of the 7th was hurt, though a number of
the enemy had been bayonetted, or shot by the officer’s revolver, Hodge
returned with the three prisoners indented for. It had been a model raid.
On the 8th of July the Division was relieved by the 58th Division, with
the exception of the artillery, which remained in the line with the 58th
Division, and later with the 9th Division, at Havrincourt Wood until the
end of August, when they rejoined their own Division in Belgium. The
artillery’s periods of “rest” were infrequent and uncertain. Whenever
the divisional infantry was relieved the guns would remain in the line
for a time, attached to the relieving Division. From the artillery
point of view the work at Havrincourt consisted mainly of concentrated
fire at night on back areas of the enemy line and in artillery duels.
Corporal Charles Gee, “B” Battery, 210th Brigade, twice won distinction
during this period. On July 22, near Hermies, a hostile shell set a
gun-pit on fire, and Gee, with Bombardier W. Pate, disregarding the
explosions, succeeded in covering the burning material with earth, and
so saved a considerable amount of ammunition. On August 13, during a
heavy bombardment of the battery position, a shell burst in a dugout
occupied by one man, blowing off one of his legs. Accompanied by Gunner
W. Armitstead, Gee went to the injured man’s assistance, and while they
were removing the debris a shell burst near and knocked both over. They
managed to extricate the man, bandage his wounds, and convey him to
safety, being all the time under heavy fire and suffering from fumes.
The Ytres sector was looked back upon as a “bon” front by comparison
with others with which acquaintance was made later. Here the Divisional
Concert Party, which afterwards achieved fame under the title of “_Th’
Lads_,” was first organized. “Th’ Lads” soon became a feature which the
Division could ill have spared, and the delightful entertainments given
under the fine trees of Little Wood are recalled with genuine pleasure.
From July 9 to August 22 the Divisional Headquarters were in the
Third Army reserve area at Achiet-le-Petit, where the 127th Brigade
was stationed, with the 125th Brigade at Gomiecourt and the 126th at
Courcelles. This area, which was visited by the King on July 12-13, had
been wholly devastated. What had once been a village was now a heap of
broken bricks and rubble; a few stark walls standing grimly against the
skyline and a name painted in bold black lettering on a white ground
informed the passer-by what village had once stood here. The fields were
scarred with trenches and shell holes, and all the indescribable debris
of an abandoned battlefield was spread around. Most of the troops were
under canvas, but as there were not enough tents for all a number had to
live in little “shacks” made of odd bits of corrugated iron and any other
scrap material available. The fine weather continued and the six weeks in
this area partook of the nature of a holiday, though the days were fully
taken up by intensive training, special attention being paid to training
in attacks upon fortified posts and strong points. Instructional visits
were made to the scarred battlefields of the Somme, Brig.-General Henley
taking a number of his officers to Thiepval and giving his personal
experiences of the fighting there. The various training stunts—battalion,
brigade, and divisional—enabled the troops to gain a thorough knowledge
of the ground in this area, and this familiarity with the topography
stood them in good stead when seven months later they were called upon
to withstand the German onrush on this very ground. Time was found for
divisional and brigade sports, inter-battalion football and cricket
matches, boxing contests in the large crater at Achiet-le-Petit; and the
visits of “Th’ Lads” to the Brigade Headquarters were keenly appreciated.
There had never been such a time for sports as this, and it was hard to
realize that “there was a war on.” Newly-painted vehicles, perfectly
turned-out animals, bands playing, troops spick-and-span, all combined to
lend a gala aspect to this period.
On August 22 the period of rest came to an end, and the Division
entrained for the most detested of all fronts—Ypres.