FROM THE SOMME TO MESSINES: JULY 1916 TO JUNE 1917
On July the 13th the Division moved into the well-known training
area west of St. Omer, with headquarters at Tilques. Those of the
107th Brigade were at Bayenghem, of the 108th at Eperlecques, and of
the 109th at Boisdinghem. Here training and reorganization began,
and here reinforcements arrived in considerable numbers.[25] Five
days later the Artillery, which had remained in line covering the
49th Division, rejoined, having moved north by march route. R.A.
Headquarters were established at the château at Recques. The troops
were much refreshed by this return to civilization, and units had
leisure to absorb their drafts. Unfortunately it did not last very
long. On July the 20th Headquarters moved to Esquelbecq, to a famous
and beautiful moated château, that bore at the door rings to which
Marlborough's troopers had tied their reins, and had been occupied
by General Grant after Waterloo. Meanwhile the 108th Brigade moved
forward, by 'bus and lorry, to Kortepyp Camp, south of the village of
Neuve Eglise, and Red Lodge, on the southern slopes of Hill 63, and
west of the famous Bois de Ploegsteert, that will go down to Britons
for all time as "Plug Street Wood." On the 23rd Headquarters moved
to the château on Mont Noir, a couple of miles north of Bailleul,
and that night the 108th Brigade re-entered the line in relief of two
battalions of the 20th Division. By the end of July the 109th Brigade
had come in on the right, in relief of troops of the 41st Division,
and the 107th had relieved the 108th Brigade. The front line now
held ran from a ruin on the Neuve Eglise-Warneton Road, known as
Anton's Farm, on the right, to another known as Boyle's Farm on the
Wulverghem-Messines Road, on the left. The frontage was some three
thousand yards in a straight line, but there were over two and a half
miles of front-line trench. On September the 1st the headquarters of
the Division moved from Mont Noir to the village of St. Jans Cappel,
near Bailleul.
The Division was to remain for upwards of a year in this part of the
line, but it seldom held precisely the same section of front for more
than a few weeks at a time. The various moves cannot be treated in
detail. There were changes in August, all three Brigades entering the
line, and early in September a "side-step" to the north, the right
boundary now being the River Douve, and the left "Piccadilly Trench,"
south of the Kemmel-Wytschaete Road. The 108th Brigade was now on
the right, the 107th in the centre, and the 109th on the left. The
characteristics of the various parts of all this front were similar,
the conditions of the soil the same throughout, so that a general
description will hold good for all the period passed by the Division
in the neighbourhood.
The trenches and dug-outs, to begin with, were not such at all in
the sense in which the troops had been wont to use the names on
the Ancre. The fighting trenches consisted, everywhere save on the
highest ground, of parapets built of sandbags filled with clay. In
places there was a parados similarly constructed, but over long
stretches the men in the front line simply stood behind the wall,
with no protection against the back-burst of shells. Water in this
country appeared everywhere just below the surface, and it was
useless to dig trenches in the real sense for any purpose other than
drainage. Even the communication trenches were sunk not deeper
than a foot, and piled high on either side with earth, which made
them satisfactory enough as cover from view, but very vulnerable to
shell-fire. These communication trenches were longer than those to
which the troops had been accustomed, the approaches to the front
line being much more exposed than among the folds of the Somme
country. As for dug-outs, there were none. Little wooden-framed
shelves in the parapet, a few "baby elephants"--arched steel
shelters, which, if covered thickly enough with sandbags, afforded
protection against the shells of field guns--served for the troops
in line, while further back, for battalion headquarters and forts,
there were ruined farms, which often had good cellars, and in the
frame-work of which concrete structures could be hidden. It was hard
for troops used to the Somme chalk to accustom their minds to the
spongy nature of this soil. In the dry weeks of August, for example,
the R.E. built one very fine dug-out, twenty feet deep, and were
proud of their handiwork. In September there was in it a foot of
water, in October two; November found the water level with the top of
the stairs, and a sarcastic notice, "The R.E. Swimming Bath," at the
entrance.
When it rained, which was not seldom, all the low-lying ground
flooded. The valley of the Douve, above all, from Wulverghem to the
front line, became a muddy swamp, in which the water lay in sheets.
At such times, and indeed during a great part of the winter, many
trenches simply could not be occupied. No adequate idea of the
impression conveyed upon the mind of a man coming up north from the
clean, white trenches of the Somme can be obtained of all this area
unless it is conceived as dirty, mournful, and disconsolate; haunted
by the evil stench of blue clay, and brooded over by an atmosphere of
decay.
Since the days of the first Battle of Ypres and of the rival turning
movements which had ended in the present deadlock, the Germans
had had the best of the ground in the Messines sector. Behind
the salient of their front trenches it rose sharply, with a dip
half-way up, formed by the shallow valley of the Steenebeek, to a
dominating ridge, crowned south and north by the fortress-villages
of Messines and Wytschaete. The road joining these was the limit of
our observation, except for telescopes on Kemmel Hill. To the south
we had a fair observation point in Hill 63, but the one great boon
granted to us was Kemmel. Had it been a thousand yards nearer the
front line, it would have done much to counteract the advantage of
the Messines-Wytschaete Ridge. It is scarcely necessary to add that
the enemy had, in his long possession of the ridge, fortified it with
all his wonted industry and art. It was protected by four general
lines of well wired trenches west of the road, and peppered over with
little forts, wired all round, the garrisons of which were provided
with concrete structures, miniature houses rather than dug-outs,
proof against anything up to an eight-inch shell.
General Plumer's Second Army was at this time playing the _rôle_ of
Cinderella among the British forces. Its front was lightly held,
even at Ypres, which had grown strangely quiet of late. Certain
preparations had been made for an offensive in the summer, but had
been largely abandoned for lack of labour. The Army Commander,
however, insisted on pushing on his mining, in which he had great
faith, a faith amply to be justified the following year. Throughout
the winter and spring the Division furnished large parties for work
under the various Tunnelling Companies in the shafts that were being
driven under "No Man's Land," and beneath the strongest portions
of the enemy's front line. The German miners were skilful enough,
and on other parts of the front often gave rather more than they
got, but here, from first to last, they were out-manœuvred and
out-fought in an underground war. A striking instance of this was at
La Petite Douve Farm, on the Ploegsteert-Messines Road, where the
British tunnellers succeeded in pumping a fair proportion of the
muddy Douve into the Germans' shaft, whence they could be heard,
night after night, frantically ejecting it with a motor-pump. One
"camouflet," as a defensive explosion was called, did indeed blow
in our gallery here and undo months of work, but the enemy probably
did not know what he had achieved, and the temporary check availed
him nothing in the end. No Ulsterman who served in Flanders in that
winter and the following spring will forget the skill, patience,
and absolute contempt for danger displayed by those tunnellers.
The 171st Tunnelling Company, with which the Division was most
closely associated, will be remembered with particular affection and
admiration.
The Second Army has been called the Cinderella of our forces. Not
only was it holding a long line lightly, and with few reserves, but
the main flow of ammunition and material passed it by and went down
to the Somme, where the British were creeping forward in desperate
fighting to Bapaume. There were weeks in August and September when
the allowance of shells dropped to two and even one round per
18-pounder a day, with heavier calibres proportionately rationed.[26]
The Germans were in this respect similarly situated. Their ammunition
also was wanted on the Somme to put down those eternal barrages with
which they opposed our assaults. When the Division first arrived in
Flanders the artillery shell-fire was very light indeed. That of
the trench mortars did a good deal to replace it. The Germans had
concentrated on these weapons as their chief means of offence, and,
possessing the advantage of the ground, they used them cleverly and
with great effect. With that curious regularity that appeared to form
part of the German mentality their bombardments generally took place
almost precisely at 3-30 p.m. They were particularly severe in the
neighbourhood of the Spanbroek salient.[27] "In this sector," writes
a machine-gun officer, "I have seen five or six large 'minnies' in
the air at one time--really fearsome things. You could see the
fuses of the bombs alight in the air and follow their flight most
of the way, only to lose it when straight overhead; and then there
was nothing to do but wonder where it would fall!" These long aerial
torpedoes exploded with shattering effect and made huge craters. It
is useless to disguise the fact that, during the first few weeks
of the Division's acquaintance with these trenches, the enemy had
an ascendancy in trench-mortar warfare. That ascendancy had to be
fought down. In the first place the German mortars, or rather their
emplacements, were carefully marked down from observations taken in
the line, and by the study of aeroplane photographs. Maps were then
issued by the staff, upon which each active emplacement was shown
by name. The names began with the letter of the map square; all in
the "S" squares with S, and in the "U" squares with U. The names
chosen were generally feminine--doubtless without ironic intention.
A certain number of the emplacements were allotted to each howitzer
battery of the Divisional Artillery, and also to such 6-inch howitzer
batteries of the Corps Heavy Artillery as were available. When the
mortar opened fire, all that was necessary was for the words "Susie
active," or "Ursula active," to be wired back to the batteries.
Susie, or Ursula, as the case might be, was instantly engaged, while
any machine-guns that could be brought to bear upon her neighbourhood
also took a hand in the game. By this means it was generally found
possible to silence any individual mortar in about a quarter of an
hour at most, and to prevent it from getting the exact range, and
then knocking in a whole section of trench at leisure.
On the British side, also, big trench-mortar bombardments, aided
by the Divisional Artillery, were periodically arranged. In these
affairs the leading _rôle_ was played by that terrific weapon, the
heavy trench mortar, firing a projectile of 180 lbs., and highly
dramatic it not infrequently was. One of these monsters dwelt at
R.E. Farm, on the Wulverghem-Wytschaete Road, and it was from this
locality that the principal "hates" were discharged. For perhaps
ten minutes the fire would continue, the "flying pig," as it was
called, sending over its giant shells, the medium mortars firing
their 60-lb. "plum puddings," and perhaps two batteries of light
Stokes mortars discharging twenty or twenty-five rounds a minute from
every gun. Meanwhile the 18-pounders and howitzers behind joined in,
while machine-guns fired upon communication trenches. The German
retaliation was frequently heavy, and the teams of the mortars,
heavy, medium, and light, showed grim determination in carrying out
their tasks under punishment. General Brock, the C.R.A., did not
believe in sending to the mortar batteries weaklings who were not
wanted with the guns, and these trench mortars acquired a peculiar
type of artillery officer,[28] resolute, hard-bitten, perhaps often
careless and unconventional, but capable in great moments of the most
splendid courage, lightly worn and taken for granted between comrade
and comrade.
Few who have known anything of it can recall the "flying pig" without
a smile. There was a pleasing uncertainty about this weapon. When
the first round was fired from R.E. Farm, the charge did not ignite
properly, and the big shell went forth, flaming gun-cotton marking
its path, to land three hundred yards away just behind the British
front line, making a huge crater and demolishing the local company
headquarters! Thereafter the propellent was improved, but it was
thought wiser temporarily to evacuate the front line over which the
mortar was firing. It was typical of the infantryman's good humour
that the incident was greeted everywhere with laughter and treasured
as an excellent jest. War, indeed, has a curious effect upon the
sense of humour, and far grimmer pleasantries than this were the
subjects of mirth. When a IX. Corps intelligence summary remarked
that a German cemetery behind the ridge "appeared to be filling
nicely," it was hailed as the joke of the season. It was the aim of
the Army Commander to harass by all means in his power the troops
that faced him, to prevent divisions that were sent down to the Somme
from going as fresh troops, and to prevent those others that had been
withdrawn from the hell-broth from recovering too quickly and easily
from its effects. The intense bombardments with trench artillery
were but one weapon in this campaign. Another, as autumn drew on and
supplies of ammunition came more freely to hand, was the shelling
of approaches and, above all, the railway terminus in Messines, by
night. But the principal weapon in this minor offensive was the
raiding party. So long as men who took part in the war are alive,
the subject of raids is like to crop up whenever two or three are
met together. But the conclusion of such discussions is invariably
the same. Raids were frequently useful, and sometimes imperatively
necessary; but the British raided too often. Raids to obtain
identification of troops opposite, and even to keep the enemy "on
the stretch," were justifiable; those with the object of raising the
moral of our troops were not, because they did not succeed in their
object. "No doubt," writes one of the Brigadiers of the 36th Division
who was responsible for many raids, "no doubt a successful raid had
a good effect in a unit, but not always among the raiding party. The
meticulous preparation made the 'waiting-for-the-dentist' period hard
and trying. And the raiders were always picked men, who in a battle
were of inestimable value. Many units had to deplore the loss of the
very cream of their officers, N.C.O.'s, and men in raids. And the
cold-blooded courage demanded of all concerned took heavy toll of the
nervous energy of even the biggest thruster." The Higher Command,
also, often called for raids immediately troops had taken over a
line, before they had learnt their way about in "No Man's Land" by
dint of patrolling, and before they had recovered from the effects of
an attack delivered on some other part of the front.
The record of the 36th Division with regard to raids was from first
to last a very high one. The failures were few in comparison with
the successes. It was also the case that, while the troops of the
Division carried out a great number of successful raids, the number
of occasions on which they themselves failed to repulse German raids
or lost prisoners to the raiders can be numbered on the fingers of
both hands. In the eleven months between the opening of the Somme
Offensive and the Battle of Messines, the Division carried out over a
dozen raids; but the first hand-to-hand encounter with the enemy took
place, not in his trenches, but in "No Man's Land." It is a curious
little episode, and deserves to be treated at some length.
It may be mentioned that only a short time before the Somme Battle
was the efficacy of the German apparatus for overhearing telephone
conversation realized by the British. Till then it had been our
easy custom to talk of such important matters as reliefs over
the telephone from the front line. It was established that these
casual conversations could be picked up by the enemy's instruments,
especially in chalky ground. They were accordingly banned, and,
after the British manner, from the extreme of imprudence we rushed
to a comical extreme of caution. It was currently believed that
all conversations within three miles of the line could be heard by
the Germans, and brigadiers sometimes found themselves precluded
from using the telephone. It was still possible to send telegraphic
messages, using the "fullerphone," an invention which greatly
diminished the risk of tapping. And an instrument of torture, known
as the "B.A.B. Code Book," became part of the equipment of every
officer. How many company commanders have sat in their dug-outs
translating a series of numerals into amazing gibberish, to discover
that they had wasted half an hour by using last month's correction!
On the occasion in question, an officer of the 9th Irish Fusiliers,
Lieutenant Godson, conceived the idea of using the listening set of
the enemy as a bait to take some of his men. On the afternoon of the
14th of August, he announced in the clearest possible tones, on a
telephone at company headquarters in the front line, that an officer
and three men would leave the trench at midnight, and move out on
the right of the Le Rossignol-Messines Road to reconnoitre the clump
of willows in "No Man's Land." At 9-30 p.m. he moved out to this spot
with a party of two officers and sixteen other ranks. By 10 he had
his force in prearranged formation near the willows, and waited for
what might happen. But he must be allowed to tell in his own words,
as they were written next morning, the story of his sensations and of
his achievement.
"At 11 p.m. I see, I see--what do I see? A little black mark in the
grass forty yards in front that was not there when I looked before.
O yes, it was. I look about. The moon is very full out now on our
right front. What a nice night, and so quiet! Not a sound from the
German lines. I look to the front again. I am getting fed with this.
I am wet from head to foot crawling through the wet grass.... This is
not a job for one man to be at day after day. Everyone ought to take
his turn at this. The discomfort is beastly. It is all right till I
move, then I have to warm a new place on the dank grass. Hullo! by
Jove, I've forgotten that black spot, the only thing in sight I had
made a mental note to look at again.... It's growing bigger. What the
devil is it? There's another behind, and another. They're coming!
I have heard of hearts leaping into the mouth. It meant nothing to
me, but by Jove that's what mine did. It nearly made me dizzy just
for two seconds. I collect myself. Twenty-five yards off and coming,
oh, so slowly and cautiously, moving down a little ditch in the open
that I had not noticed.... I sign to the sick scout to stop his noise
and lie close to the ground. I level my revolver. They're coming.
And one of the other men is sure to make a noise or cough.... I see
the first distinctly now, ten yards off,--nine, eight, seven, six,
five. He sees something, he whips round, all turn behind him; as far
as I can see, three, four, five, six, seven--how many? Bang, bang,
bang, ring out the rifles! I let off five with my revolver, and they
have disappeared as if by magic. 'Come on, boys!' I'm up and out. I
see a figure on his back. I leap at his throat. 'Kamerad, Kamerad!'
he shouts, and waves his hands. Clements whips by me and Ervin and
Breen."
The net result of the ambuscade was two Germans killed and four
prisoners. That the false message had been overheard could never be
exactly proved, but the probabilities seemed to be in that direction.
To summarize the raids carried out or attempted during autumn and
winter, there were two on the night of September the 15th, two on
September the 30th, three on October the 12th, two on the 31st, and
one, the most important, on November the 16th. Of these ten, six were
successful in varying degree. The two first were carried out by the
9th Rifles, just east of the Wulverghem-Wytschaete Road, and by the
11th Inniskillings some five hundred yards north of it. The former,
by reason of its neatness and the fact that the raiders suffered
no loss, must be accounted the best of the series. It was sent to
obtain an identification, and it obtained one, a single prisoner.
In addition, the officer who led it shot two Germans as he entered
the trench, and a third was shot by the flank guard on the left. But
the great achievement of the raid was the work of Rifleman Kidd,
the champion long-distance bomber of the battalion, a man worth a
platoon in such an affair. By his long-range bombing he kept off,
single-handed, the German bombers moving up to the rescue, killing
three. The British casualties were three men so lightly wounded that
they remained at duty. The other raid was notable for very pretty
work by the Artillery. At this point, opposite Kruisstraat Cabaret,
the British lines jutted out into a work known as the "Bull Ring,"
which commanded some relatively high ground, about seventy yards
from the enemy's trench. The raid was just north of this work, on an
enemy trench almost on the same longitudinal line, yet a machine-gun
was able to fire from the "Bull Ring" two thousand rounds on the
enemy's trenches, while the "box" barrage of the Artillery was put
round the raiding party, and no shell came near it. Over thirty
Germans were estimated to have been killed, but, unfortunately, the
Inniskillings, besides ten wounded, had three wounded and missing.
One prisoner was taken as an identification.
The raids on the 30th were part of a series on the whole IX. Corps
front. On the right the 11th Rifles did not start, owing to an
accidental bomb explosion; in the centre the 10th Rifles were held
up by the depth of the wire; on the left the 10th Inniskillings
entered the enemy's trenches--after the fuse of their ammonal torpedo
had failed to ignite, and the sapper in charge had affixed and lit
a new one under the very noses of the German sentries--killed a
number of the enemy, blew up dug-outs, took a machine-gun, rifles,
and equipment. In the raids of the 12th of October the 108th Brigade
had again no fortune at the strongly wired Petite Douve Farm, but
the 107th and 109th Brigades each took prisoners. Of the latter
raid, carried out by the 9th Inniskillings, it is related that,
just before it took place, the two officers who planned it were out
in "No Man's Land" having a look round, and lost their way, the
trenches being here only fifty yards apart. Having seen some wire
they could not agree whether it was "ours or theirs," and tossed a
coin in a shell-hole to decide which view should prevail. The winner
approached the wire, put up his head, and was fired at at four
yards' range--and missed! He bobbed down. Again he took a look, and
again there was a miss by the sentry. Finally he heard footsteps
approach on the trench-boards, and a voice demand: "Jasus, what
are ye shootin' at?" That was a welcome and homely sound. _Sotto
voce_ explanations followed, and he and his companion came in. The
raids of October the 31st were held up by showers of bombs from the
stout-hearted Swabian peasants of the 26th (Wuertemberg) Division.
But the Wuertembergers were wanted on the Somme. On November the 16th
the 11th Inniskillings, raiding the Spanbroek salient on a front
of two hundred yards, came upon their less formidable successors,
a Saxon Division, before they were accustomed to the new trenches,
and dealt with them in terrible fashion. Twenty-three dead were
counted in the trenches, and more than twice as many must have
fallen. The terror-stricken Saxons deserted their front line on a
wide front, and the Inniskillings had their pleasure with it for half
an hour, looting everything which they could carry over, blowing up
all the dug-outs, to the accompaniment of tunes played in "No Man's
Land" on mouth organs. Three prisoners were taken. Our losses were
slight. One of the few successful raids carried out against the
Division in all its career took place on February the 14th, when the
enemy obliterated the trenches on the Wulverghem-Messines Road and
apparently captured two prisoners.
It will be remembered that the Divisional Artillery, which had
come to France consisting of three 18-pounder and one 4.5 howitzer
Brigades, had been reorganized in May, the howitzer batteries being
divided among the other three Brigades. A second reorganization
took place in September, to a basis of six-gun instead of four-gun
batteries, though the howitzer batteries did not receive their
extra section of two guns till the New Year. The 154th Brigade was
broken up, and in February 1917 the 172nd Brigade became the 113th
Army Brigade, and left the Division. The details can best be shown
by a tabular statement which appears in the "Order of Battle."
Henceforth the Artillery consisted of two Brigades only, the 153rd
and the 173rd. A large number of Army Brigades were created by the
reorganization, and were used to increase the artillery at the
disposal of divisions for offensives or in dangerous sectors. The
change had some tactical advantages, but the lot of the new Army
Brigades, "nobody's children" as it were, and constantly moved from
one lively front to another, could not be described as happy.
[Illustration: VICTORIA CROSSES OF THE 36^{th} (Ulster)
DIVISION--1916.
The late Lt. G. St. G. S. CATHER
9^{th} Royal Irish Fusiliers.
The late Pte. W. F. M^cFADZEAN
14^{th} Royal Irish Rifles.
The late Capt. E. N. F. BELL
9^{th} Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers.
Pte. R. QUIGG
12^{th} Royal Irish Rifles.
The Late 2/Lt. J. S. EMERSON
9^{th} Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers.]
The Division always worked hard, but there was probably no part of
the front in which it attempted and accomplished so much as here.
Just at first there was shortage of material, as there was of
ammunition, but the situation soon improved. By the labours of the
Pioneers and Infantry, working under the supervision of the three
Field Companies, the whole trench system was transformed. Parapets
were built stout and strong; parados, where none had been before,
appeared to match them. The communication trenches were strengthened
and improved by the famous "A" frame, the greatest single blessing
that authority provided for troops in Flanders. The deepening of the
bed of the Douve, and the removal of obstructions by the Engineers,
did much to lessen the winter floods. Trench tramways were laid, good
shelters constructed, reinforced concrete being largely employed.
Of these the most interesting was the battalion headquarters at La
Plus Douve Farm.[29] As one approached the place, one saw no sign of
human occupation, nor of its possibility. There was nothing but a
huge roofless farm, built round three sides of a square, as is common
in Flanders. But inside one of the wings was an unobtrusive concrete
structure thirty feet long, wherein the commanding officer and his
staff dwelt in great comfort, above ground, with ample head-room,
real windows, and protection from "five-nines." The courtyard
remained as it had been when the farm was finally destroyed by
bombardment eighteen months before, and its smashed reaping-machine,
half a bicycle, and old umbrella, seemed to have grouped themselves
after a Bairnsfather drawing.
Mention must here be made of the remarkable underground barracks,
made on the southern slopes of Hill 63 by the Australian Tunnelling
Company, to which the troops of the Division acted as carriers.
Driven into the steep flank of the hill, it was proof against any
artillery, lit all through by electric light, and capable of holding
two battalions at a pinch. There its charm ended, for it must be
confessed that it was damp, close, and malodorous, and that it was
impossible to leave a battalion long in it without ill effects upon
its health.
For the first three months of 1917 the Division was without its
Pioneers, filched by the new "railway king," Sir Eric Geddes. The
Pioneers worked with their wonted vigour on 60 c.m. light railways
between Ouderdom, south of the Salient, and Kemmel, and between
Busseboom and Dickebusch, and also on broad-gauge work. In their
absence it was very difficult to continue the elaborate programmes of
construction. A temporary "Works Battalion," one company from each
Brigade, with a nucleus of one hundred trained Pioneers, who had been
retained, was formed to replace them. It was intensely unpopular
with the men, and cannot be said to have been a success. In February
practically all work of other natures ceased, so that men might be
put to that of wiring. The intense frost had converted the Belgian
inundations into solid ice! They were no obstacle to the enemy, who
for some weeks was suspected of the preparation of an offensive.
Certainly his artillery had become very aggressive, carrying out
heavy bombardments of our trenches and batteries, and shelling camps
in rear. The country was literally sown with wire, "Plug Street Wood"
being such a tangle that it has always been a mystery to those who
saw it how the Germans passed through it in 1918. The alarm died down
presently. It had never very serious foundation, but the frost in the
ground constituted a risk.
There was one advantage in holding the line in the same area
for a long period. It was possible to provide some comfort and
recreation for the troops. There were a football competition, boxing
competitions, a horse-show, many sports meetings. A large hut was
put up at Dranoutre for concerts and other entertainments. Over a
long period a 'bus ran daily from "Hyde Park Corner," just outside
Ploegsteert village, to Bailleul, which represented with its shops
and eating-houses comparative civilization. Many will recall with
regret its fine square and beautiful _Hôtel de Ville_, all smashed
to powder in 1918. Probably the worst hardships of the troops were
due to the intense cold of that winter. Life in the trenches was bad
enough, but there were many men who found it easier to sleep there
than in their rest camps. A bare, draughty wooden hut, a temperature
of fifteen degrees below zero, insufficient fuel; it does not
require much imagination to conjure up the misery implied by such
conditions.
With early spring came a great burst of activity. In the last days
of the old year the Division had been reorganized on a two-brigade
frontage, so that the troops of one Brigade might obtain some rest
and training. Now, in mid-March, it closed down to a small front,
from the Wulverghem-Wytschaete Road on the right, to a point opposite
Maedelstede Farm[30] on the left. This was held by one Brigade, the
second being well back about Flêtre, while the third trained in the
pleasant neighbourhood of Lumbres, west of St. Omer. No longer was
the Second Army Cinderella. Its area was packed with troops. Even the
private soldier, who saw the opening of the splendid new railhead
at Haagedoorne, outside Bailleul, with its maze of sidings, saw the
country covered with transport lines, saw the dumps grow full, saw
the digging of new communication trenches and the laying of light
railways, must have realized that something was toward. It is certain
at least that the enemy did. On the morning of March the 24th he
bombarded the lines of the 107th Brigade on the right flank and those
of the New Zealanders, its neighbours, for an hour and a half. Just
before dawn his men were seen to issue from their trenches. Caught
by our artillery barrage and the fire of machine and Lewis guns, the
party was swept away like chaff. He made other unsuccessful attempts
to raid the Division. That, however, represented but one aspect
of his alertness. The more serious was his persistent shelling of
billets and horse-lines, and his bombing of Bailleul. It was also
observed that he had large parties at work on his rear lines.
The Second Army was preparing the capture of the Messines-Wytschaete
Ridge.
The raiding activity of the Division was renewed in those last weeks
of preparation. On several occasions men slipped across in broad
daylight to the nose of the Spanbroek salient and threw bombs into
the German trenches. On May the 19th a raid was attempted from the
"Bull Ring," but beaten off by the enemy, who in turn sent over
parties in the early hours of the morning, which were beaten off
with loss. On May the 23rd the 14th Rifles raided the trenches on
the Kemmel-Wytschaete Road, taking a prisoner and confirming the
suspicion that the Germans had reinforced their line. On the 29th a
very big party of Germans, estimated at a hundred strong, made three
attempts to enter the "Bull Ring," but was kept out by the barrage
and the fire of the Lewis guns. These raids were without doubt
attempts to reach and destroy the mine-shafts in our front line.
Meanwhile there had come into the divisional area, and moved
quietly, battery by battery, into the positions already prepared,
the Divisional Artillery of the 32nd Division, with four Army
Artillery Brigades, making a total of 192 field guns and howitzers
on the front. All the positions for the incoming batteries had
been constructed by the 36th Divisional Artillery, and much of
their ammunition stacked in them ready for their use. Upon this
General Brock was most insistent. To him and to the hard work of his
subordinates the newcomers owed provision such as incoming batteries
all too rarely met with. A great mass of heavy artillery under the
orders of the IX. Corps had arrived also, and was bombarding the
slope of the Messines Ridge, doing great execution upon the concrete
shelters with which it was studded. The Germans could play at this
game also, and they had some tempting targets. All over the back
areas were horses piqueted in the open, troops in tents. Against
these the Germans did much damage with a railway gun, which, as it
could easily be moved, was safe from our fire. On the night of May
the 27th Divisional Headquarters, which had moved up to their new
Ulster Camp, west of Dranoutre, were bombarded by a 10 c.m. gun. A
direct hit was obtained on one of the huts, and several clerks were
wounded. The shelling continued for two hours, during which the
staff and personnel of the headquarters had to take to the fields.
That which would have been pure comedy--for such the spectacle of
a whole divisional headquarters running about in the dark must
undoubtedly appear to the troops--was turned to tragedy by the death
of Lieut.-Colonel W. A. de C. King, the C.R.E., who was killed on the
spot by one shell. On the following morning General Nugent moved,
with his advanced Headquarters Staff, to the command post that had
been prepared on the western slope of Kemmel Hill.
On the 31st of May the preliminary bombardment opened.
FOOTNOTES:
[25] In the month of July the Division received 193 officers and
2,182 other ranks. These reinforcements left it still, of course,
considerably below strength.
[26] Men who served do not need to be told, but perhaps civilians
may, that there was no parallel between these conditions and those of
early days, when there were often, literally, only a few rounds per
gun available. At this time the ammunition was there, in the gun-pits
and echelons behind, and could be used quite unsparingly at a sign of
danger. When, however, there was no danger, it had to be conserved.
[27] See Map II.
[28] The heavy and medium batteries were manned by artillery, the
Stokes mortars by infantry, personnel.
[29] Local names were frequently transformed by British troops,
followed by the map-makers. This was probably La Plus Douce. When
the Douve overflowed its banks the new name was certainly the more
suitable.
[30] See Map II.