HUNTING THE HUN
For three weeks my battalion practiced going over the tapes for an
attack on the Cite St. Laurent, a suburb of Lens. The tapes were laid
on the ground to represent the trenches held by the Germans. Various
coloured flags were placed at the corners of the assumed streets and
these were named as we would find the streets when we made our attack.
The church of the town was represented by a cross made of tape. Our
battalion frontage was some 300 yards, and at some places we were not
more than the same distance away from the Hun trench.
In order to reach our front line trenches we had to go through an
ingoing communication trench which ran partly on the outskirts of the
Cite St. Pierre and through the centre of the Cite St. Edouard. We had
already made a tour in the sector of the line from which we were to go
"over the top." As a result of constant artillery activities on both
sides we had many casualties. A great number of guns were in the Cite
St. Pierre and as far up as the Cite St. Edouard. Both forces strafed
incessantly.
On the morn of the 14th of August we were told that the attack was to
take place on the morn of the 15th. "Zero Hour" was set for 4.20 A.M.
Everyone got busy getting things ready to move. All surplus kits were
returned to the quartermaster's stores. In the afternoon church service
was held and an excellent sermon was preached by our battalion padre.
Two hymns were sung during the service, "Onward, Christian Soldiers"
and "Nearer, My God, to Thee." Everyone's taking communion closed the
service.
No. 1 sections of all platoons participating in the attack were
supplied with special wire cutters, which were an attachment to the
rifles. That evening about seven o'clock all companies fell in on their
respective parade grounds, where a thorough inspection was made by the
officers. One platoon per company remained out of the line as usual.
Each company commander took charge of his respective company, the
seconds in command remaining out.
The Colonel gave us a little talk and said that we would be going into
the attack and that our work would partly consist of village fighting.
Everyone was expected to live up to the good reputation our battalion
had made. He then shook hands with each officer, all officers in turn
shaking hands with each other. One of my friends, when I shook hands
with him, told me he was going in for the last time. He really did not
expect to come out alive. I rather pooh-poohed the matter at the time
and it made me feel badly for him and rather nervous. Unfortunately his
presentiment came true.
As the Huns were constantly shelling our back area, we marched off the
parade ground in sections at distances of 100 yards. When we arrived
at the Cite St. Pierre, which had previously been captured by us, and
as we passed through this Cite, where our Brigade Headquarters were
established in what had been a former deep German dugout, we were told
by one of the officers of Brigade Headquarters that the "Zero Hour"
would be 4.20 A.M. and that we were to go "over the top" at that time.
As we followed the ingoing communicating trench, part of which ran
through the middle of the street, there were houses on both sides.
These the German artillery was constantly playing on, so bricks and
mortar flew in all directions. The few houses that had been left
standing were demolished as if they had been made of cardboard. You can
well imagine that when a shell hit anywhere near a house it made things
very unpleasant for those of us passing through these trenches.
The platoon officer, who had preceded me, had evidently got out of
the communicating trench to see how his men were coming up from the
rear. When I passed him he was lying on the sidewalk. I did not think
at that time he was dangerously wounded as he waved his hand to me. I
could not stop to give him any attention for, although he was my best
friend, my duty was imperative and I had to lead my men onwards. I
therefore shouted for the stretcher bearer from his platoon and gave
the necessary instructions for his care. I regretted very much to hear
that he passed away in a few hours after receiving his wound.
By the time we reached the firing line, which was directly in front of
the Cite St. Edouard (also a suburb of Lens), I had eight casualties.
Three men had been killed, and five wounded. The wounded had been given
every attention and sent back to the rear. The leading platoon was now
in charge of the platoon sergeant, a very capable man who had taken
charge of the platoon whilst in practice for this attack. All the
other N.C.O.'s had also been trained to do this, so that in case any
platoon officer became a casualty they would be able to carry on.
As we arrived at the firing line the holding troops were "standing
to" on the fire step. We could thus pass along in their rear. Guides
were assigned to each platoon to show us the openings that had been
made in our barbed wire so that we could then get into No Man's Land
without being obliged to cut the wire. During this time the Huns were
incessantly sending up their star shells and other coloured rockets.
I gave the necessary instructions to N.C.O.'s in charge of sections,
and then we crawled out through the barbed wire and got into shell
holes. The Huns at this time were firing "whizz bangs" and Minenwerfers
at our front line, these being short ranged shells. As the German star
shells illuminated the ground, I noticed that the barbed wire had not
been altogether destroyed by our artillery. This was probably due
to the fact of the close proximity of the two opposing lines, which
prevented our artillery from concentrating its fire as they would have
done if we had been further apart. It was for this reason that the No.
1 section of each platoon had been supplied with special rifle wire
cutters.
At 3.45 A.M. I served the rum to the boys before "going over." It was
certainly a very dangerous job, as my batman and I had to crawl from
one shell hole to another to give each man his allowance. When a star
shell would go up I would be exposed but would try to screen myself
flat to the ground. I never wanted to appear so small in my life and I
thought all the time that I must have been as huge as an elephant. I
did not want to be "napooed" whilst acting as rum server, and if I had
to "go west" I wanted to go fighting at the head of my men.
However, I served all out in safety and then crawled back to my shell
hole. I looked at my watch and saw that it was exactly 4.00 A.M. The
artillery on both sides was now less active. Dawn was just breaking;
a slight mist appeared. The men had their bayonets fixed and were all
ready and anxious for the signal to "go over." At 4.19 A.M. a heavy
barrage was laid on our front line and rear trenches. We knew then that
the Huns had anticipated our attack, and had by some means found out
our "Zero Hour." We were not able to move forward until the "Zero Hour."
Exactly at 4.20 our artillery opened up, and as the shells passed
over our heads to the German front line they gave us a great deal of
satisfaction. At the same time mines that were previously laid beneath
the German trenches were exploded and great big cones of flames shot
up into the air. These pillars of fire appeared to be about twenty
feet at the base and forty feet high. I would think in my estimation
there would be about one hundred of these pillars of flame all along
the German front support lines. We were now "over the top" and were
advancing in two waves in extended order. The third wave was still in
the front line trench and would remain there until our barrage lifted,
when we would advance to our first objective. Then the third wave would
come out.
When within 50 yards of our barrage I signalled to the men to take all
possible cover, which they quickly did by getting into the shell holes.
As I looked to my right I saw Lieutenant L---- at the head of what was
left of his platoon. He was leading them into their position. Blood was
flowing from his face and running down all over his tunic, but he was
bravely carrying on. Just as he was about to slide into a shell hole
with another man, who I presume was his batman, a shell landed close to
them. As the dust and smoke cleared away I noticed on the ground their
two dead bodies. Each one had answered his country's call. My friend's
presentiment had come true!
Matters were now very exciting. The bursting of shrapnel and the crumps
of large shells were exploding around us. Every man knew that his life
depended upon his keeping cool. We were impatiently waiting for the
barrage to lift, as we were expecting to encounter the Germans out in
the open as soon as that happened.
The German is a good fighter as long as he can rub shoulders with his
comrades. But when he gets to close quarters and is opposed to our
men with the bayonet he seems to wilt. Our boys have no difficulty in
putting him out of business then. I had a Russian in my platoon whose
boast was that he personally accounted for one dozen Germans and he
had notched his rifle, much against orders, twelve times. His ambition
was to get another dozen in this fight. He was in the next shell hole
to mine and was eagerly watching for me to give the signal to advance.
When I did give it, he went along, and I had little doubt, from the
look on his face, that he would get another dozen.
I had lost quite a number of men, my platoon was very much diminished,
and the platoon sergeant had been killed. As our barrage lifted we
advanced and made a dash into the German front line trench, to find
nothing there except the mangled German bodies. We ran along the
trenches, but could not find anything. By this time our moppers-up
were in the trenches, so we left them to look after the dugouts and
immediately clambered out and made for the German second line.
On the second line we encountered a number of Saxons. They all appeared
to be terrified and put up a very feeble resistance. I afterwards
learned through a prisoner that these Saxons were sent out in front
to resist our advance, and that the Prussian Guards had threatened
to shoot them from the rear if they showed any hesitation in going
forward. They were made to act as a buffer between us and the Guards.
They seemed to be quite young and boyish looking, and did not appear to
have any heart for the fight.
During this time we were very much annoyed by the Hun aeroplanes which
were dropping bombs and firing their machine guns upon us from above.
I was glad to see two German aeroplanes brought down, for our aviators
were getting busy and there were numerous battles in the air. It was
not long until our boys had the air supremacy, and we were left in
peace from that quarter.
As we advanced with our barrage, a German barrage of machine gun
bullets played around us as well as their shells. We got into Cite St.
Laurent and followed a German trench for some distance, then out again
until we reached what I took to be the church, now in ruins.
We now got into a former German communication trench, called "commotion
trench" for obvious reasons. There was certainly some commotion here.
We had to fight our way up this trench, dodging German stick bombs
and rifle grenades, walking over dead German bodies, until we reached
our objective, a trench called Nun's Alley. At a certain point I
established my Lewis gun section so that they could fire up a certain
sector of a trench running at right angles to Nun's Alley, which was
originally part of the Hun's strong line of resistance.
The battalion was so much reduced in strength that what was left of the
whole battalion was required to hold the front line.
At noon the Germans retreated, but all day long their artillery as well
as our own was busy. A great deal of counter battery work was going
on. Shells were likewise being dropped along the sector of the German
trenches we had captured from them. At dusk as we were "standing to"
the Germans sent up a great number of coloured rockets, and suddenly
our outpost men who had been stationed in shell holes came in with the
news that the Prussian Guards were advancing in close formation on a
counterattack against us. Our S.O.S. was sent up and quickly answered
by our artillery. Just before their barrage opened up, we quickly
jumped out of Nun's Alley trench and got into shell holes.
With the assistance from our artillery, and every machine gun and rifle
playing upon the advancing hordes of Prussians in close formation, we
mowed them down ruthlessly. What was left of them turned and fled.
Until the night of the 18th we held the line, and during this time we
had four counter-attacks in one day. Our ration parties could not be
sent out, nor could we get our rations for two days. Our iron rations
were eaten by special permission from the commanding officer, and it
was only on the night of the relief that we were able to obtain more
food.
I noticed the Germans had built some very good and deep dugouts in
Nun's Alley, but as we were liable to counterattack at any time, I did
not examine them.
I was glad for the few men I had left of my platoon when the relief
took place, about 1.30 the morning of the 19th. They were all keyed
up to the highest pitch and keeping up on their nerves alone. They
had had no sleep while they were in the attack, so after giving all
information about the enemy to the platoon commander of the relief, we
got on our way back to rest billets.
We did not delay and were soon marching away from the danger zone. The
nervous strain began to wear off the men, although they were dropping
from lack of sleep and fatigue. First one man and then another would
drop out. When we were about 800 yards from our rest billets I heard
a loud "hurrah! hurrah!" It came from the officers and men whose turn
it had been to remain out of the line. They had come to meet us and
brought along with them the Brigade Bagpipers, who immediately began to
strike up "The Campbells Are Coming" and "The Cock of the North." It
was wonderful, the effect this music had on the boys, who immediately
began to brace up and marched in very briskly. Our efforts and success
were appreciated, and it was not long until we all had a good meal that
had been specially prepared for us. And after eating the same, we were
soon in bed.
In the morning I heard one of the men making inquiries about my batman.
I had missed him early in the fight but had been expecting him to
turn up at any time. To my consternation I was informed by a man from
another company that he had seen my batman's dead body in a shell hole.
I regretted this news very much, as he had been like a friend to me. He
had completed two years of medicine but like a great many more he had
answered his country's call and gave his life for the cause.
The casualties of our battalion were four officers killed and six
wounded and 260 men killed and wounded. It was a very hard fought
battle but we gained and held all our objectives, inflicting terrible
casualties on the Huns.
During the month of May one of our brigades made an attack on
Fresnoy-en-Gohelle. It was what we call a little brigade show.
Fresnoy was three miles from Vimy station. At daylight early on May the
sixth, the brigade went "over the top." The German barbed wire had all
been cut by our artillery, so the Germans, anticipating the attack, met
our brigade with a whole German division. This did not stop our brigade
from advancing and closing with the enemy. In the little village of
Fresnoy, though greatly outnumbered, they fought with the Huns for a
whole day and night.
All the troops on both sides were wearing their gas helmets, and it
was really a hand-to-hand struggle. Each one tried to tear the gas
helmet from his opponent. A gas helmet pulled off a man meant his
death, as the fumes were very thick. I later on spoke to an officer who
participated in this fight and he told me of some of his experiences.
His eyesight had been rather bad previously. When he started to walk
over No Man's Land, in his haste to put on his small box respirator, he
lost his glasses and could not see very far in front of him. He led his
men more by sense of direction than by sense of eyesight, as he could
not see through his goggles without his glasses. He therefore had to
go blindly along until he fell down in a shell hole, where he remained
until the fumes had been dispelled. When he tried to crawl out of the
shell hole German snipers in front of him made desperate attempts to
pot him. However, he was fortunate enough to be allowed to remain
until nearly dark, when he was located and brought back to safety. Our
brigade suffered rather heavily in this attack, but we had the pleasure
of inflicting a greater amount of casualties on the Germans than they
had on us.
One of the most sanguinary encounters that I was ever in happened
during the latter part of April. My company was doing duty in brigade
support line which was a captured trench we had taken from the Germans.
It was now being used by us as an observation trench. It ran along the
slope of the ridge, and from it we could see the smoke coming out of
the chimneys of the coal mines at Lens, about four and a quarter miles
away. A splendid view of the ground occupied by the Hun could be had,
as his trenches lay in front of us. One day about 4.30 P.M. we received
information that the Germans were assembling in a certain sunken road
with the view of making a counterattack. Our artillery had been given
instructions to concentrate their fire at 5.30 P.M. upon this road.
Excitement ran high in our trench and we were all anxious to be at the
Huns again. Everyone that could was looking through periscopes and
some peered over the top of the parapet as we eagerly waited for our
artillery to commence.
At 5:30 P.M., much to our surprise, our artillery did not open up. We
suspected that the Germans had by some means found out that we knew
they were assembling for this counterattack and that they therefore
gave up the idea.
That even at dusk we prepared to advance, but during our stay in the
observation trench we had five casualties in our company. We were to
occupy a lately evacuated German trench which was directly in front of
our firing line. The battalions on our right and left flank also had
to move up. At 10.00 P.M. we left the observation trench and were met
by guides from the battalion which was then holding the sector of the
front line trench that we had to pass to get to the recently evacuated
German trench, now to become our front line. With my guide I led my
platoon in single file for a distance of 50 yards past the firing line.
All at once the Germans commenced to bombard us with gas shells. We
immediately put on our gas helmets and advanced through these poisonous
fumes. When we were within 200 yards of our objective the Huns put
up what we call a box barrage. They had evidently been warned of our
advance.
A box barrage is shell fire directed along the rear and both flanks. It
hemmed us in, although the flanking fire did not harm our company, as
it was too far away from us, still the fire from the rear was gradually
creeping up to us, and it was a very anxious and trying time for our
nerves as it came gradually towards us. I shouted out to form line in
extended order and we made a rush for our objective, which we had named
"Winnipeg trench." We managed to get into it in the nick of time, as
the creeping barrage was almost on top of us.
[Illustration: A Dog Used to Carry Messages in the Trenches
These dogs are fed only by their own keepers and must not be petted by
the "Tommies," so that they will carry messages only to their masters]
We had lost about sixty men of the company during this advance, so we
had sent up our S.O.S. signals. The artillery answered immediately by
commencing to play a drum fire, or intense bombardment, upon the German
artillery and trenches. It was not long before we had silenced their
guns, as we must have sent over ten shells to the one of the Huns'.
During this period my stretcher bearer had been kept very busy, and I
had to send for additional stretcher bearers so that I could have the
casualties attended to. My casualty report showed eight men killed, two
missing, fifteen wounded.
I left the trenches. One officer and seven men were granted ten days'
rest, I being the lucky officer. We left the trenches at midnight and
went to Sains-en-Gohelle. I arrived here and found busses all ready to
transport the men to the Railhead. We were conveyed to the Railhead
and then entrained, detraining at Boulogne. From there we marched to
Ambleteuse, a distance of ten kilometres.
Here were gathered together, I should judge, about 10,000 troops--all
under canvas. Imperials, Canadians, Australians, New Zealanders and
Maoris were in the camp.
There were several Y.M.C.A. marquees and during our short and pleasant
rest we were entertained by some of the most celebrated actors and
actresses from England who had come over to offer their services free.
It was very much appreciated by us and we thanked the Y.M.C.A. for
their cordiality in giving us such a pleasant time.
Ten days passed all too quickly and we entrained at Wimereau, a short
distance from Ambleteuse, amidst the cheers and waving of handkerchiefs
by the girls of the W.A.A.C. (Women's Army Auxiliary Corps). There are
over ten battalions of these girls in France, all doing their bit at
the bases.
We left Wimereau at 1.30 in the afternoon. Every car in the train was
packed to full capacity. Sometimes we were travelling at the rate of
about thirty miles per hour, then we would slow down to five, depending
upon the grade.
We arrived at Hasebrouck about 4.30 in the afternoon. We heard the
reports of exploding shells and bombs as we approached the station,
and as we looked out of the windows of the train we could see the
French inhabitants fleeing out of the city. The Germans were shelling
and bombing the town. I could see fires here and there in the
neighbourhood. Our train slowly pulled into the station and stopped.
Every window was occupied by the officers and men who were anxiously
looking out at the fires and the damage that had been done by the
German shells and bombs.
A friend of mine whom I had met at the rest camp was in the next
compartment to mine. He remarked to me that he did not mind the
shelling so much if the civilian population were out of danger, and
added that in his opinion he thought that we were quite safe. Suddenly
a shell struck a tree not more than thirty yards away from us and a
splinter glanced off and struck the railway train. I heard then the old
familiar cry of "stretcher bearer," "stretcher bearer on the double,"
and an R.A.M.C. Sergeant came running over to our car. As I jumped out
of my compartment, I went into the other one. There to my horror my
friend was lying unconscious. Blood was flowing freely from all parts
of his body, and as I helped to place him on the stretcher he passed
away to the Great Beyond. In another car five N.C.O.'s were wounded
from fragments of the same shell, so I could shake hands with myself on
being fortunate to escape without injury.