WINNING ANOTHER CHAMPIONSHIP
"Jump down into the trench quick, Colonel! That shell may explode,"
called Captain Musgrove.
"What shell?" I enquired, as I had not heard any "whispering Willy"
arriving, but something seemed to have covered my clothes suddenly
with mud and splinters of wood and bark.
"Look up over your head. It is a wonder it did not stun you. And
please do move out of there for a while at least, for fear it may be
still alive."
I glanced up at the pollard willow over head, against which I had been
leaning to steady my field glasses as I watched our artillery "strafe"
the Germans who were attacking the Ghurkas. Captain Musgrove stood by
my side when the shell arrived. It struck the hard red clay about
twelve feet directly in front of me, plowed up the earth about three
feet and turning upwards entered the tree directly over my head. The
shell, which was a large one from a four-inch howitzer, entered the
willow bole, burying itself in the soft wood all but about half an
inch of the base.
These shells are fused with what are called detonating fuses that
burst when the shell touches anything. It should have exploded when it
struck the ground in front of us. If it had we would have had about
one chance in a thousand. Again, when it struck the tree it should
have blown up. The "kickback" would have certainly killed or wounded
us both. But a Merciful Providence caused that shell not to function.
I climbed down into the trench. Next day when the Germans were
quieter, Colonel Leckie photographed us. It was a marvellous escape.
On the evening of the 29th we had moved a short distance to our left
and again dug in in four lines in rear of the French and as guard over
Pontoon Bridge No. 4. The canal here passed north between high banks
and a schooner, that had doubtless plied between the North Sea ports
and Ypres, had been sunk in the middle of the canal and furnished a
pier for the bridge which the engineers had perfected.
Along the banks of the canal were shelters and places where previous
troops had "dug in" and the place looked like a huge rabbit warren.
Our batteries were in action along the banks and they were very
skilfully hidden. I looked them up and found some old friends from
Ottawa, Lieut. Colonel Morrison, the commandant, amongst them.
We had tried to preserve the Belgian buildings in the same condition
as we found them as much as possible, but since the Germans were
setting fire to all the barns with thatched roofs we decided to annex
some straw from the roofs to put in the bottom of our trenches.
The trenches in our front were being unmercifully shelled by the
Germans all the time, and about three times a day the Germans and the
French would exchange front trenches. Divisions of French troops kept
coming up. They carried on in the most casual way. The cooks took soup
down to the front line trenches in broad day. They did not seem to
care for shot or shell.
The French always moved in single file with men about three yards
distance. We learned to like and admire them. They are great soldiers.
The Germans would shell the French troops out of their trenches and
then charge and take the low parapets which the French built. After a
short rest the French would fix their terrible long four-cornered
bayonets which they call there knitting needles, charge the enemy and
recover their parapets again. This game of see-saw went on for several
days.
The second morning we were at the bridge a handsome well set-up
French officer came past our lines and stopped to chat. He wore the
gold medal of honor given by the Czar which he had won a few weeks
previously for conspicuous bravery. He was very proud of it. We all
envied him his good luck. He went on up to the front line. About an
hour later he passed us again, lying in an ambulance hand cart very
severely wounded. Poor fellow, he was in a bad way but still cheerful.
When the Germans got tired shelling the French they would start in and
give it to us. Three and four shells would follow in close succession.
They would search up and down the fields and hedges with their guns
showering shells on everything within their range.
The gallant 16th Canadian Scottish were dug in about fifty yards in
front of us. Colonel Leckie was in a dugout at the extreme left, and
alongside of him was another dugout in which were some of his staff. A
large German shell fell in the staff dugout during the night,
completely obliterating all traces of four men who were sleeping in it
at the time. A part of Lt.-Colonel Leckie's dugout was torn off at the
same time and he had a very narrow escape.
The same night while I was dozing in my "digin" I was awakened by
heavy breathing on my right as if a man was dying. It was pitch dark,
so I called the sentry and told him some one was hurt.
Sergeant Miller, who was close at hand, jumped up and with an electric
torch we started to search the line to find out who was wounded. In
the second digin on my right we found Corporal Kells very nearly gone.
A large five-inch shell had fallen in his "digin," slicing a large
piece of flesh off the calf of his leg and stunning him. Fortunately
the shell had not exploded. He had almost bled to death when the
peculiar heavy breathing of a man suffering from bleeding attracted my
attention. We bound him up and had him taken back to the dressing
station. He subsequently died from the shock.
One morning about daylight I was wakened in my narrow cell by a lot
of earth tumbling down on my face. I fancied a shell had fallen on my
parapet, and after clearing the dirt out of my eyes and ears I lay
awake listening to the seventeen-inch Austrian batteries which were
shelling some place very heavily. The guns were apparently in a
position not far from Pilken. I could hear the "Kerr-Rump" of four
guns of a battery firing in rapid succession, then a pause, and I
could hear the huge projectiles go roaring on their deadly mission
till the sound ceased. I waited for the report so I could count the
time to find out how far away they were ranging, but I noticed a very
strange thing. I could hear no report from the explosion of the shell.
Evidently it was falling too far away for me to hear it. A few days
later we learned that they had been shelling Dunkirk, some twenty-odd
miles away.
The second day we were at the bridge, the Germans were searching
diligently for us with their shells when I was called to the telephone
which was located in the next hole in the ground to mine. I found
Corporal Pyke in charge of my wire. Pyke was a brave cheerful lad, a
splendid operator and telephone expert. He was thoroughly posted in
wireless work and used to rig up an attachment to our telephone by
means of which he could read all the wireless messages that came over
the wires from the ships of the Navy in the Channel to the naval
batteries that were working behind our lines which were called the
Admiral Churchill batteries. If there were any German wireless men in
the neighborhood they could also get these messages. Pyke could hear
the Germans working on their lines but could not get their code.
As I hopped over to see who wanted me, and crawled into the telephone
hole in the ground a shell came whizzing past and ripped the earth
from the parapet about a foot above Pyke's head. He never even ducked,
but quite coolly remarked as he shook the dust off, "That sod is
rather thin, Colonel. I guess it was only about six inches."
The urgent message that I was called to take was something to the
effect that clean socks, underclothes and a bath would be ready for my
battalion at a certain date.
I told headquarters to cut out commercial messages for a few days.
Our batteries were earning a great reputation for themselves. They
were posted on the bank of the canal and alongside of them were some
of the batteries of the Indian Division. Our guns were in action one
evening when the major of one of the Indian batteries came along
inspecting his observation wires. He watched the drivers of one of our
batteries (Morrison's) take a limber of ammunition up to its guns
through a perfect hailstorm of shells. He remarked to me that the
Canadian gunners were magnificent, and that they did not have six
drivers in the Indian Army that were as well trained and as good at
their work as the Canadian boys who were driving the limber we were
looking at. That was a high compliment from a regular officer as the
Indian army knows its trade.
On the afternoon of the 28th, while the Germans were trying to destroy
the Canadian batteries with heavy seventeen-inch shells, a German
aeroplane came along flying low to check up the big gun practise. We
were getting very tired of these German visitors so I ordered my
battalion to fire on the flyer, using one thousand elevation and
leading the birdman about five times his own length. In a few minutes
we had the satisfaction of seeing him turn back with a tail of fire
streaming from his gasoline tank. We had got his tank and he was on
fire and trying hard to make the German lines. He fell in our lines
and the aviator and observer were made prisoners.
Aeroplane activity in that section ceased for a time. The fighting,
however, never let up night or day.
On the evening of May 2nd we were ordered to co-operate with British
troops in our right who were heavily attacked with gas. There was a
dull, heavy atmosphere and everything seemed favorable for the German
poison plan. Our guns, however, were ready and they opened a fierce
bombardment with shrapnel over the German trenches. It was here the
shell incident described at the beginning of the chapter happened. A
gentle shower came which dissipated the gas. Three times their
infantry climbed out of their trenches and started to charge across
the space intervening between the lines. The iron voices of the
bursting shells blended into one note as the deadly spray of lead
swept entire sections of them away. There was little left for the
rifle fire to do.
The attack was beaten off easily. The German offensive for the moment
was weakening. They had never fully recovered from the terrible
punishment they had received during the first three days from the
Canadians. They realized that a new element was barring the way to
Calais and victory.
Canada had won many championships on the fields of sport, science, art
and mechanics, and now another championship had been won on a sterner
field, the field of battle in historic Flanders.