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AN ONLOOKER IN FRANCE
[Illustration: I. _Field-Marshal Earl Haig of
Bemersyde, O.M., K.T., etc._]
AN ONLOOKER IN
FRANCE
1917-1919
BY
SIR WILLIAM ORPEN, K.B.E., R.A.
LONDON
WILLIAMS AND NORGATE
1921
Pictures and Text, Copyright 1921
by
Sir William Orpen, K.B.E., R.A.
Printed in Great Britain by Richard Clay & Sons, Limited,
Paris Garden, Stamford St., S.E. 1, and Bungay, Suffolk.
PREFACE (p. v)
This book must not be considered as a serious work on life in France
behind the lines, it is merely an attempt to record some certain
little incidents that occurred in my own life there.
The only thought I wish to convey is my sincere thanks for the
wonderful opportunity that was given me to look on and see the
fighting man, and to learn to revere and worship him--that is the only
serious thing. I wish to express my worship and reverence to that
gallant company, and to convey to those who are left my most sincere
thanks for all their marvellous kindness to me, a mere looker on.
CONTENTS
Chap. Page
PREFACE v
I. TO FRANCE (APRIL 1917) 11
II. THE SOMME (APRIL 1917) 16
III. AT BRIGADE HEADQUARTERS AND ST. POL (MAY-JUNE 1917) 25
IV. THE YPRES SALIENT (JUNE-JULY 1917) 31
V. THE SOMME IN SUMMER-TIME (AUGUST 1917) 36
VI. THE SOMME (SEPTEMBER 1917) 42
VII. WITH THE FLYING CORPS (OCTOBER 1917) 50
VIII. CASSEL AND IN HOSPITAL (NOVEMBER 1917) 55
IX. WINTER (1917-1918) 62
X. LONDON (MARCH-JUNE 1918) 67
XI. BACK IN FRANCE (JULY-SEPTEMBER 1918) 75
XII. AMIENS (OCTOBER 1918) 84
XIII. NEARING THE END (OCTOBER 1918) 90
XIV. THE PEACE CONFERENCE 98
XV. PARIS DURING THE PEACE CONFERENCE 111
XVI. THE SIGNING OF THE PEACE 116
INDEX 121
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Plate
I. Field-Marshal Earl Haig of
Bemersyde, O.M., K.T., etc. _Frontispiece_
II. The Bapaume Road. 12
III. Men Resting, La Boisselle. 15
IV. A Tank, Pozières. 17
V. Warwickshires entering Péronne. 19
VI. No Man's Land. 21
VII. Three Weeks in France: Shell-shock. 24
VIII. Man in the Glare, Two Miles from the Hindenburg
Line. 27
IX. Air-Marshal Sir H. M. Trenchard, Bart., K.C.B., etc. 29
X. A Howitzer in Action. 30
XI. German 'Planes visiting Cassel. 33
XII. Soldiers and Peasants, Cassel. 35
XIII. German Prisoners 37
XIV. View from the old English Trenches, looking towards
La Boisselle. 39
XV. Adam and Eve at Péronne. 41
XVI. A Grave in a Trench. 43
XVII. The Deserter. 45
XVIII. The Great Mine, La Boisselle. 47
XIX. The Butte de Warlencourt 48
XX. Lieut. A. P. F. Rhys Davids, D.S.O., M.C., etc. 51
XXI. Lieut. R. T. C. Hoidge, M.C. 53
XXII. The Return of a Patrol. 54
XXIII. Changing Billets. 57
XXIV. The Receiving-room, 42nd Stationary Hospital. 58
XXV. A Death among the Wounded in the Snow. 61
XXVI. Some Members of the Allied Press Camp. 63
XXVII. Poilu and Tommy. 65
XXVIII. Major-General The Right Hon. J. E. B. Seely, C.B.,
etc. 66
XXIX. Bombing: Night. 66
XXX. Major J. B. McCudden, V.C., D.S.O., etc. 71
XXXI. The Refugee. 73
XXXII. Lieut.-Col. A. N. Lee, D.S.O., etc. 74
XXXIII. Marshal Foch, O.M. 77
XXXIV. A German 'Plane passing St. Denis. 79
XXXV. British and French A.P.M.'s, Amiens. 81
XXXVI. General Lord Rawlinson, Bart., G.C.B., etc. 83
XXXVII. Albert. 87
XXXVIII. The Mad Woman of Douai. 91
XXXIX. Field-Marshal Lord Plumer of Messines, G.C.B., etc. 93
XL. Armistice Night, Amiens. 95
XLI. The Official Entry of the Kaiser. 97
XLII. General Sir J. S. Cowans, G.C.B., etc. 99
XLIII. Field-Marshal Sir Henry H. Wilson, Bart., K.C.B.,
etc. 101
XLIV. The Right Hon. Louis Botha, P.C., LL.D. 103
XLV. The Right Hon. A. J. Balfour, O.M. 105
XLVI. President Woodrow Wilson. 107
XLVII. The Marquis Siongi. 109
XLVIII. A Polish Messenger. 110
XLIX. Lord Riddell. 113
L. The Right Hon. The Earl of Derby, E.G., etc. 117
LI. Signing the Peace Treaty. 119
LII. The End of a Hero and a Tank, Courcelette. _At the end_
LIII. General Birdwood returning to his Headquarters,
Grévillers. "
LIV. A Skeleton in a Trench. "
LV. Flight-Sergeant, R.F.C. "
LVI. N.C.O., Grenadier Guards. "
LVII. Stretcher-bearers. "
LVIII. Man Resting, near Arras. "
LIX. Going Home to be Married. "
LX. Household Brigade passing to the Ypres Salient.
Cassel. "
LXI. Ready to Start. "
LXII. A German Prisoner with the Iron Cross. "
LXIII. A Big Gun and its Guardian. "
LXIV. Good-bye-ee. "
LXV. The Château, Thiepval. "
LXVI. German Wire, Thiepval. "
LXVII. Thiepval. "
LXVIII. Highlander passing a Grave. "
LXIX. M. R. D. de Maratray. "
LXX. A Man, Thinking, on the Butte de Warlencourt. "
LXXI. Major-General Sir Henry Burstall, K.C.B., etc. "
LXXII. Major-General L. J. Lipsett, C.M.G., etc. "
LXXIII. A Village, Evening (Monchy). "
LXXIV. Christmas Night, Cassel. "
LXXV. Blown Up: Mad. "
LXXVI. A Support Trench. "
LXXVII. Major-General Sir H. J. Elles, K.C.M.G., etc. "
LXXVIII. Dead Germans in a Trench. "
LXXIX. A German Prisoner. "
LXXX. A Highlander Resting. "
LXXXI. Man with a Cigarette. "
LXXXII. Mr. Lloyd George, President Wilson, M. Clemenceau. "
LXXXIII. A Meeting of the Peace Conference. "
LXXXIV. Admiral of the Fleet Lord Wester Wemyss, G.C.B.,
etc. "
LXXXV. Colonel Edward M. House. "
LXXXVI. Mr. Robert Lansing. "
LXXXVII. The Emir Feisul. "
LXXXVIII. M. Eleutherios Venezelos. "
LXXXIX. Admiral of the Fleet Sir David Beatty, Viscount
Borodale of Wexford, O.M., G.C.B., etc. "
XC. The Right Hon. W. F. Massey, P.C. "
XCI. General The Right Hon. J. C. Smuts, P.C., C.H. "
XCII. The Right Hon. G. N. Barnes, P.C. "
XCIII. The Right Hon. W. M. Hughes, P.C., K.C. "
XCIV. Brigadier-General A. Carton de Wiart, K.C., C.B.,
etc. "
XCV. M. Paul Hymans. "
XCVI. The Right Hon. Sir Robert Borden, G.C.M.G., etc. "
AN ONLOOKER IN FRANCE (p. 011)
CHAPTER I
TO FRANCE (APRIL 1917)
The boat was crowded. Khaki, everywhere khaki; lifebelts, rain and
storm, everything soaked. Destroyers, churning through the waves,
played strange games all round us. Some old-time Tommies, taking
everything for granted, smoked and laughed and told funny stories.
Others had the look of dumb animals in pain, going to what they knew
only too well. The new hands for France asked many questions,
pretended to laugh, pretended not to care, but for the most part were
in terror of the unknown.
It was strange to watch this huddled heap of humanity, study their
faces and realise that perhaps half of them would meet a bloody end
before a new moon was over, and wonder how they could do it, why they
did it--Patriotism? Yes, and perhaps it was the chance of getting home
again when the war was over. Think of the life they would have! The
old song:--
"We don't want to lose you,
But we think you ought to go,
For your King and your Country
Both need you so.
"We shall-want you and miss you, (p. 012)
But with all our might and main
We shall cheer you, thank you, kiss you,
When you come back again."
Did they think of that, and all the joys it seemed to promise them? I
pray not.
What a change had come over the world for me since the day before! On
that evening I had dined with friends who had laughed and talked small
scandal about their friends. One, also, was rather upset because he
had an appointment at 10.30 the next day--and there was I, a few hours
later, being tossed about and soaked in company with men who knew they
would run a big chance of never seeing England again, and were
certainly going to suffer terrible hardships from cold, filth,
discomfort and fatigue. There they stood, sat and lay--a mass of
humanity which would be shortly bundled off the boat at Boulogne like
so many animals, to wait in the rain, perhaps for hours, before being
sent off again to whatever spot the unknown at G.H.Q. had allotted for
them, to kill or to be killed; and there was I among them, going
quietly to G.H.Q., everything arranged by the War Office, all in
comfort. Yet my stomach was twitching about with nerves. What would I
have been like had I been one of them?
At Boulogne we lunched at the "Mony" (my companion, Aikman, had been
to France before during the war and knew a few things). It was an
excellent lunch, and, as we were not to report at G.H.Q. till the next
day, we walked about looking at lorries and trains, all going off to
the unknown, filled with humanity in khaki weighed down with their
packs.
[Illustration: II. _The Bapaume Road._]
The following morning at breakfast at the "Folkestone Hotel" we sat (p. 013)
at the next table to a Major with red tabs. He did not speak to us,
but after breakfast he said: "Is your name Orpen?" "Yes, sir," said I.
"Have you got your car ready?" "Yes, sir," said I. "Well, you had
better drive back with me. Pack all your things in your car." "Yes,
sir," said I. He explained to me that he had come to Boulogne to fetch
General Smuts' luggage, otherwise he gave us no idea of who or what he
was, and off we drove to the C.-in-C.'s house, where he went in with
the General's luggage and left us in the car for about an hour. Then
we went on to Hesdin, where he reported us to the Town Major, who said
he had found billets for us. The Red Tab Major departed, as he said he
was only just in time for his lunch, and told us to come to
Rollencourt soon and report to the Colonel. The Town Major brought us
round to our billet--the most filthy, disgusting house in all Hesdin,
and the owner, an old woman, cursed us soundly, hating the idea of
people being billeted with her. Anyway, there he left us and went off
to his "Mess."
This was all very depressing, so we talked together and went on a
voyage of discovery and found an hotel; then we went back to the
billet and said "good-bye" to Madame and moved our stuff there. But
the hotel wasn't a dream--at least we had no chance of dreaming--bugs,
lice and all sorts of little things were active all night. I had been
told by the War Office to go slow and not try to hustle people, so we
decided we would not go and report to the Colonel till the next day
after lunch.
Looking into the yard from my window in the afternoon, I saw two men I
knew, one an artist from Chelsea, the other a Dublin man, who (p. 014)
used to play lawn tennis. They were "Graves." My Dublin friend was
"Adjutant, Graves," in fact he proudly told me that "Adjutant, Graves,
B.E.F., France," would always find him. We dined with them that night
at H.Q. Graves. They were very friendly, and said we could travel all
over the back of the line by going from one "Graves" to another
"Graves." All good chaps, I'm sure, and cheerful, but we did not do
it.
The next day after lunch we drove to Rollencourt, and found the Major
in his office (a hut on the lawn in front of the château). He left,
and returned to say the Colonel could not see us then. Would we come
back at 5 p.m.? So off we went and sat by the side of the road for two
hours. Then again to the Major's at 5 p.m., when he informed us the
Colonel had gone out. Would we come back at 7 p.m.? (No tea offered.)
This we did and waited until 7.50, when the Major informed us that the
Colonel would not see us that evening, but we were to report the next
morning at 9 a.m. (No dinner offered.) We left thinking very
hard--things did not seem so simple after all. We reported at 9 a.m.
and waited, and got a message at 11 a.m. that the Colonel would see
us, and we were shown in to a wizened, sour-faced little man, his
breast ablaze with strange colours. I explained to him that I did not
like the billets at Hesdin, that Hesdin was too far away from anything
near the front, and that I intended to go to Amiens at once. To my
surprise he did not seem to object, and just as we were leaving, he
said: "By the way, General Charteris wants you to go and see him this
morning. You had better go at once." So that was it! If General
Charteris had not sent that message I might not have been admitted to
the presence of the Colonel for weeks. Off we went, full of hope, (p. 015)
packed our bags and on to G.H.Q. proper, and got in to see the General
at once--a bluff, jovial fellow who said: "You go anywhere you like,
do anything you like, but don't ask me to get any Generals to sit to
you; they're fed up with artists." I said: "That's the last thing I
want." "Right," said he, "off you go." So we "offed" it to Amiens,
arriving there about 7 p.m. on a cold, black, wet night. We went to
see the Allied Press "Major," to find out some place to stop in, etc.
Again we were rather depressed. The meeting was very chilly, the
importance of the Major was great--the full weight and responsibility
of the war seemed on him. "The Importance of being Ernest" wasn't in
it with him. As I learnt afterwards, when he came in late for a meal
all the other officers and Allied Press correspondents stood up. Many
a time I got a black look for not doing so. However, he advised the
worst and most expensive hotel in the town, and off we went (no dinner
offered), rather depressed and sad.
[Illustration: III. _Men resting. La Boisselle._]