Belgium.
YPRES.
Ypres! That wonderful place, the sound of whose name makes the heart of
the Englishman at home glow with pride, but makes the soldier, friend or
foe, shudder at the mere recollection. It was the scene of much stern
work, and if Belgium has been dubbed the Cockpit of Europe, surely the
"Salient" was the cockpit of cockpits. More men lie buried in that small
patch of ground than one cares to think about, and when instances of the
unreasonableness and veritable folly of war are cited from other fronts,
they can always be equalled by experiences at Ypres.
In many respects, however, the 7th were lucky in this sector, for we did
not actually go over the top during our stay. Other units of the
division carried out what would be termed minor operations (which are
anything but minor operations to the people concerned), but the 7th
escaped any such work. So far as we were concerned it was a continuation
of line-holding, but under vastly new conditions. It would be useful,
perhaps, to indicate the nature of these conditions.
As all the world knows the third battle of Ypres commenced on the 31st
July, 1917, preceded by a terrific concentrated bombardment of the Hun
positions lasting about ten days. The effect of this bombardment was to
obliterate all signs of life on that part of the earth, with the
exception of a few horrible, naked, and shattered trees. Nothing green
was visible anywhere. In fact the land looked as though it had been a
very choppy earth-brown sea suddenly frozen to stillness. Everywhere
was shell-holes, shell-holes, shell-holes--large and small. Only by
careful searching could one ascertain where enemy trenches had been.
Dotted about over this terrain were the Hun "pill-boxes," concrete
shelters in which the enemy had made their last machine gun fight.
Whereas at one time they had been skilfully concealed from view, they
were now standing stark above the ground which had been torn away from
them. Some of the pill-boxes, indeed, had been smashed in by direct hits
from the heavies, so deadly had been our gun fire during those ten days.
The opening of the British offensive had brought bad luck with regard to
weather. The men had gone over in a terrific downpour of rain, so that
all the advantage lay with the defences. The tanks had struggled
wonderfully with the appalling conditions, but the ground was against
them, and most of them were "ditched" before they were knocked out. A
few, however, had got well ahead, until they were out of action, and it
hardly required field glasses to be able to distinguish them within the
enemy's lines, now functioning, by the cruelty of fate, as German
pill-boxes and sniper-posts. Such was the salient in the early days of
September when the 42nd went up to take over the "line."
It was ascertained that we were to relieve the 15th division, a most
excellent division consisting chiefly of highlanders of the New Armies.
They had fought over this ground in the first days of the offensive, and
after a short rest had come back again to help to hold the positions
taken and to initiate "minor" operations. They were situated astride the
Potijze Road, due east of Ypres, and that is where the advance parties
from each battalion of the division found them. The first impression
was: "What a contrast with Havrincourt!" It was the exact antithesis in
every respect. This was a country where the desire to kill and destroy
had developed to an unimaginable intensity. Nothing of use was to be
left by either side, and every yard of ground almost was searched by the
gunners to carry out their cruel game.
As evidence of the meaning and determination of the business the
18-pounders were packed axle to axle amongst the mud and shell holes,
ready to bark forth their loud defiance to the Hun. The 4.5 howitzers
were visible in batches at various places. Further back, but still
closely packed were the 6-inch howitzers, the 60-pounders, and the
heavier calibre guns. The huge, ever popular 15-inch and large naval
guns lay beyond Ypres, and were not for the eyes of the ordinary
infantryman, but evidences of their sound work would be found when the
advance continued. It required very little imagination to picture the
German guns similarly placed and in similar numbers, for this offensive
had alarmed the enemy, for did it not threaten the existence of their
submarine bases in Belgium, to say nothing of their hold upon Lille? His
defence was careful, however, as we found to our cost, and, however much
the papers at home kept up the morale of England by sneers at the
"pill-box," the soldier on the spot regarded it with extreme caution and
respect. After all they were the only things that stood the test of this
bashing method of fighting and their very existence, when everything
else was destroyed, was ample proof of the fact. Tacticians from the
highest general to the platoon sergeant tried hard to discover the most
effective and least costly manner of "dealing with a pill-box," and the
highest in the land eagerly snatched at ideas from the man out of the
line if they bore the scent of feasibility about them.
One never knew if it was in pursuit of the solution of these tactical
problems that the higher command persisted during those sad August and
early September days in their policy of "minor" operations. Certainly no
part of the salient was ever at rest. Local attacks were launched here,
there and everywhere, but comparatively few succeeded, or if they did it
was merely a temporary success. While our advance parties were in the
line the Black Watch and the Gordons of the 15th division, executed a
night attack on "Gallipoli" and Hill 35, a job which had been previously
attempted, and very little advance was made. Those who had reached the
foremost position were immediately expelled or captured, or killed where
they stood, by the Boche counter attack next morning. Losses were very
heavy.
The 42nd took over the right portion of this front near the Frezenburg
Ridge, and the 61st division the left. Incidentally, the latter again
attempted Hill 35 but with equal success. The 125th brigade was given
one of these unfortunate tasks, with the 6th Manchesters in support.
They were to take the Iberian, Borry and Beck Farms, now no longer
farms, but strong pill-boxes well defended by a system of outworks. They
carried out the job and suffered heavy casualties, so heavy indeed that
they could not withstand the inevitable Hun counter attack which came in
the evening and was delivered by fresh storm troops brought up for this
purpose from the rear. After they had attained their objective they
realised the peculiarity of the strength of the German defensive system.
They were subjected to heavy cross machine gun fire from the enemy
positions which had not been attacked. It was evident that unless these
latter were taken also they could not hold on. In other words, the
policy of local attacks was suicidal and was, in fact, playing into the
German scheme of defence.
While these things were taking place the 7th had moved from behind
Poperinghe to Toronto Camp near Brandhoek, where it enjoyed its full
share of the evening's excitement from Hun bombing planes. On September
7th, the battalion went by train to Ypres as far as the Asylum, and from
there filed cautiously by platoons through the town, past the ever
famous Cloth Hall, whose scraggy skeleton could be only dimly discerned
in the darkness, and through the Menin Gate. A short distance along the
Menin Road, and then we turned off and eventually got on "J" track--the
interminable length of duck boards that carried generals, privates,
rations, ammunition, runners, artillery observers, and all the other
various persons and impedimenta of war, through the maze of shell holes
up to the forward positions. There were a number of these tracks all
leading out like arteries from the bases of organisation to the front
line. They were labelled at intervals with small boards bearing the
distinctive letter or number of the track painted in white luminous
paint so that they were equally legible by day or by night. These were
the only guides in this desolate waste, and woe betide the man who in
the night came across a spot where shelling had obliterated a good
portion of the track, for it was a difficult job to pick it up again,
and frequently a nerve-racking experience.
With the exception of a few bursts of 4.2's at intervals none of which
came uncomfortably close, the battalion were fortunate in having a
peaceful passage that night, and the relief of the 7th Lancs. Fus.
proceeded without incident. We were in support in old German positions
just in front of Cambridge Road, headquarters being established in the
shafts of a dug-out which had filled with water. Oh--how we longed for
the comfort of Havrincourt! But we never allowed this thought to cause
depression, for it was all in the game and other men had had much worse
things to do.
I think the dominant note of our stay in this sector was shelling. It
was an ever present serious factor, and a most disturbing one. Men were
killed and maimed "for doing nothing" so to speak. They were merely on
the spot, and there was nowhere else to go. Tactical reasons demanded
that they should be there, should scratch a little cover and remain, and
there they cheerfully remained--and waited. Officers moved about and
tried to get their men interested in their surroundings, in their
comfort, in their protection, and in the rigging up of a defensive
battle if necessary. The men understood and worked with a will, and
laughter and song rang out over the torn earth. But every man knew that
in a place like this almost anything might happen; however, the worst
would never happen to _him_--the other fellow perhaps, but not him.
That, I imagine, was one of the secrets of sticking it.
Undoubtedly the Boche was putting up a fight for this bit of ground, and
his guns never ceased, only in the grey hours of dawn was there any
semblance of peace along the front, and then one felt that he had just
temporarily put a hand over the mouth of the guns in a straining
attitude of watching and listening for a movement on our part. A sudden
withdrawal of that hand and they would all bark forth together in a
terrible chorus. It was a strain for all, and faces began to show the
lines of wearing mentality. Our persons lost their spruceness too. There
was mud clinging to us, we were unshaven, equipment hung rather loosely,
but our rifles and ammunition were still as ever, and Lewis guns would
be found in good condition.
After two nights the battalion occupied the front positions, relieving
the 5th Manchesters, and headquarters were established in a good sound
pill-box at Wilde Wood. Another attack was being planned upon Borry and
Beck, to be carried out by the 5th, with ourselves in support. Meanwhile
our job was to dig new trenches out in front as jumping off places for
the attack. They were successfully completed, but when the enemy saw
them he paid his usual attention to them and as a result 2nd-Lt.
Chatterton (C Coy.) was badly wounded, and eventually lost a leg. He was
an extremely popular figure both with officers and men being known to
everyone as "Joe," and his absence was keenly felt, for he had gone out
originally with the battalion in 1914.
Luckily the plan of attack was abandoned, and apart from a feeling of
personal relief everyone felt that a wise thing had been done. There was
little hope of the enterprise proving any more successful than that of
the L.F's., especially as similar attempts had just been made left and
right of us and had failed miserably. It was clear that the only way to
ease the situation was to carry out a big attack on a wide front.
Evidences of the imminence of such an attack showed themselves very
soon, for advance parties from the 9th division came up to learn the
front, and they intimated that they had a "big job on."
One night one of our patrols out in No Man's Land, heard not far from
them, feeble calls for help. Making their way across the shell holes
towards the sound they found a man with a smashed leg and absolutely
exhausted. He was brought in and proved to be an Inniskilling Fusilier
who had taken part in an attack some four or five weeks previously! He
stated that he had kept up his strength by eating the food and iron
rations and drinking the water which he had found upon the dead men
around him. It seemed incredible that such a thing could have happened,
but on making inquiries concerning his division, the number of which I
have forgotten, it proved to be perfectly true. Surely this case
presents physiological and psychical problems worthy of consideration.
We were relieved again by the 5th and went back to our old support
position. After two days the L.F's. came up again to relieve the
brigade, but the bulk of our battalion continued to go up in the evening
to dig in a corps cable which was being laid as far forward as possible.
By the time we completed the last of our journeys to the east of Ypres,
we were a battalion chastened in body and spirit. Many big gaps had been
made in the ranks, and it was when we settled down to the more
comfortable and peaceful existence that these gaps were keenly felt. A
most noticeable absentee was R.S.M. Hartnett. He had been badly hit by a
piece of shell at Bill Cottage, and later died in hospital at Rouen.
Hartnett's work with the 7th Manchesters has nothing but good to show.
He had been a sergeant instructor with the battalion in pre-war days,
being sent to us by the 1st Manchesters, and had gone out in 1914 to the
Soudan. He stayed on through Gallipoli, and became R.S.M. when Franklin
was made adjutant. A keen, regular, disciplinarian and the scourge of
feeble N.C.O's., he was an untiring worker in entertainments. His song
in Gallipoli--"Oh, Achi, Achi Baba," to the tune of the "Absent Minded
Beggar" will never be forgotten, while some of the sketches that he
wrote and had performed were masterpieces of good humour. C.S.M. Clough,
of "D" company, was appointed as his successor and although the post of
R.S.M. is a difficult one to fill, he did some excellent work,
particularly in the line.
Toronto Camp sheltered us again for a night or two after which we moved
nearer to Poperinghe. It was evident by now that we were to leave Ypres
altogether, and no one exhibited any regrets, but there was a peculiar
feeling that the division was rather under a cloud, and apart from a
natural partisanship in the matter, everyone was indignant at the
unfortunate opportunities which had been afforded us to make our
reputation in this country. All were emphatic that had we been given a
sporting chance in a general attack, there would have been nothing
wanting in the final result. However, there was a violent spring clean
through the division. The G.O.C. left us, as well as a number of the
staff. In accordance with an army scheme to move round commanding
officers, Lt.-Col. Cronshaw was exchanged for the C.O. of the 8th
Worcesters--Lt.-Col. Carr, D.S.O.--and bade a sad farewell to the 7th on
September 20th. The men sent a good many regrets after him, for he had
done sound work, and had had a big hand in the creation of the fair name
of the Fleur de Lys. We were pleased later to see his name in the
honours list for a D.S.O. in recognition of his work with the 7th
Manchesters.
On that day the battalion marched to Winizeele and there we were joined
by the new C.O. A sort of kinship sprang up when it was discovered that
he had been wounded at the landing on Gallipoli with the Worcesters of
the famous 29th division.
NIEUPORT.
It was now apparent that our destination was north, one more step in the
direction of Blighty, towards which we had constantly moved since
leaving El Arish. But it was as near as we ever should get until the
final crossing. We were to join that small, isolated batch of the
British Army which had taken over the coastal sector from the French
with such high hopes in the middle of the year. Ever since the first
furious German onslaught in 1914, when the Kaiser had come in person to
see his myrmidons seize the coast road to the Channel Ports, and when
they met the wonderful defence of the Belgian and French troops
culminating in the flooding of the Yser lowlands, the Nieuport sector
had settled down to a quiet front.
The intention was for the British Fourth Army, under General Rawlinson
to steal quietly in, and on an appointed day to startle our friend the
enemy by a quick turning movement along the coast, which, worked in
conjunction with the Ypres offensive would free Ostend and Zeebrugge. A
far-reaching conception, but unfortunately doomed from the first by its
over-importance. The Hun had found out. Someone had told him there were
British soldiers on the coast, so he stampeded--not in the way we should
have liked but in a disastrous manner for ourselves. It had been part of
the scheme to preserve the secrecy of this movement by not bringing up
the guns when the infantry came, for there is nothing like gun positions
for "giving the game away." So soon as the German knew, however, that
the British had arrived, up came his guns very quickly, for he was well
aware that they had not come for a rest, especially in view of other
activity near Ypres.
The 1st division had taken over the Coastal sector with the 32nd
division in front of Nieuport on their right. On the coast the line ran
through the sandhills on the east side of the Yser, while on the right
of this the ground was very low lying and was largely flooded from the
five canals which converge near the town. In July the Huns smashed down
all the bridges over the river with shell fire and then attacked in
overwhelming numbers, with the result that amongst the sand dunes, being
unsupported either by artillery or infantry, the battalions on the east
of the river were completely blotted out. Very little progress, however,
was made against the 32nd division, and their line remained more or less
intact. It was impossible to retake the lost ground, for the wide river
mouth had now to be crossed. This incident altered the whole face of the
situation, for a general advance over the inundated sector alone was out
of the question, and the scheme was given up. A number of guns was
brought up to form an effective background to the infantry and that was
as far as matters developed.
When the 42nd arrived they found, by a curious chance, the 66th division
in charge of the coast sector. This division was composed of the 2nd
line battalions of our own units, so there was a tremendous amount of
interest in each other displayed by both sides. Friends met friends, and
opportunities for these meetings were further afforded by the fact that
most units relieved their own 2nd line battalions.
The 7th, after a novel experience of being carried up to the coast on
motor 'buses from Winizeele, were "debussed" at Coxyde, where they
billeted themselves comfortably in the deserted houses. The Boche had
paid this place some attention prior to his attack in July, and had not
really left it alone, so that the civilians had made a rather hurried
departure. A few had elected to remain, and were to be seen walking
furtively about the streets with that curious strained look that the
war-driven peasantry of France and Belgium always wore. Here we met the
2nd battalion of the Manchesters, and were glad of the opportunity to
make their acquaintance. A 7th officer, then Capt. L. Taylor, was
amongst them and it may be mentioned here that later in the war he added
lustre to the Fleur de Lys by winning, with the 2nd Manchesters, the
Military Cross with two bars, which decorations he fortunately lived to
carry home after the conflict. Whilst here the 2/7th being anxious to
prove their mettle, challenged us to a game of football, from which we
carried off the honours by a comfortable margin. Needless to say, this
match excited considerable enthusiasm.
After a couple of days we took over the brigade support position, where
we were charmed to find ourselves living in huts amongst the sandhills
behind Oost Dunkerque Bains. There was a fly in the ointment, however,
for the enemy knew about this camp, and being in possession of a couple
of high velocity 5.9 guns for which this place was a suitable target, he
pooped them off at us occasionally in the evening time. The night before
we came, indeed, a shell dropped upon a hut occupied by 2/6th Manchester
officers, killing four of them. Although we were worried this way, there
being little feeling of security under a thin wooden or canvas roof,
we fortunately sustained no casualties. On October 2nd we took over the
front line from the 5th, and were now in the unique position of being
the left battalion of the whole Western Front.
[Illustration: NIEUPORT, AND COAST SECTOR.]
It was an extraordinary place to fight in--like having a real war at
Blackpool amongst the houses along the front. Nestling in the corner
made by the mouth of the Yser and the coast, is the seaside resort
ostensibly belonging to the town of Nieuport, for it is called Nieuport
Bains. The war had arrived here suddenly, apparently, for an engine and
trucks still stood in the station, much battered now of course, while
every cellar was filled with most expensive furniture which the people
in their rapid flight had been unable to remove. All the houses had been
of the new and large type, particularly those overlooking the promenade,
but they were now skeletons of their former glory, and to see property
of this kind in such a state only served to bring home still more
forcibly the cruel destruction of modern war. The French had made this
front, and with typical French ingenuity they had connected all the
cellars of the houses and so constructed a perfectly safe communication
trench to the front line. This C.T. was continued backwards as a sort of
tunnel along the beach, but it was really a camouflaged trench, just
covered with a layer of sand. Flash lamps were thus greatly in demand on
this sector. As well as watching the Hun on land we were expected also
to keep a look out to sea for submarines and any other vicious craft,
and the two posts allotted this duty were armed with wonderful pom-pom
guns that no one had the courage to experiment with. Still "the man
behind the gun" had a comfortable feeling of importance so long as there
was nothing to shoot at. In that eventuality one trembles to think what
might have been the effect upon himself and the remainder of the crew.
Patrolling was also a queer business. In warmer weather it was
accomplished in bathing costume and tin hat, with revolver between the
teeth or behind the ear, but cold nights discouraged these efforts, and
we sneaked about on our side of the river wondering what we could do.
We were now at the seaside and there was the usual crop of mad holiday
projects. One of these was to experiment with a new gas to be projected
into the Boche front trench across the river. Then Lt. Morten was to
pilot a boat over, hop into the said trench, and return in possession of
a "gassee" from whom the results would be studied. Morten went down the
line with a sturdy crew of A.B's. from "D" company to practise rowing,
but luckily that was as far as the scheme progressed. Then we had our
sea-serpent. An odd sentry or so had sworn to having seen a boat on
successive nights knocking about the river. A careful look-out was
instituted, but no one in authority caught a glimpse of this "mystery
ship." After six days of this sort of thing we were surprised to find
ourselves relieved by the 20th D.L.I. of the 41st division. They had
just arrived from Ypres and the 42nd were to take over the sector on the
right. The 127th brigade, however, went out into reserve at La Panne and
there we had a splendid time.
It was about this time that the new divisional commander
arrived--Maj.-Gen. Solly-Flood, D.S.O., who was destined to raise the
fair name of the 42nd to rank with the proudest of the British Army. He
had been for a time the director of training at G.H.Q., and this fact
filled us with awe but none the less with pleasure, for every sensible
soldier knows that success in the field is the product of good training.
We expected strafe upon strafe whilst out of the line, but it was a joy
to find that the new commander knew that the best results are obtained
by instructing everyone down to the meanest soldier in his job rather
than by bullying. What could the Manchesters better wish for then, than
to have Generals Henley and Solly-Flood? It was indeed a lucky chance
that had brought us under his command. The 7th were also able to welcome
an old friend in Major Hurst who suddenly rejoined the battalion from
England about this period.
La Panne had not altogether lost its characteristics as a pleasure
resort, for it was the place where the tired officers of the Belgian
Army came for a rest cure. King Albert and the Queen frequently stayed
at their residence here in their usual quiet, simple way. The Belgians
told you with pride how their monarch could at any time be seen walking
by himself about the streets of the town or along the country roads like
any other officer in the army. A story was told how a couple of young,
dashing French flying officers met the Queen on the beach one day but,
not recognising her, started a conversation. She, seeing the possibility
of a good joke, invited them to her home, and they gleefully accepted.
Picture their consternation when they were presented to the King!
Altogether we spent an extremely pleasant fortnight in this place, and
it was by way of a study in contrasts that October 20th found us
installed in the Redan on the opposite side of the river from Nieuport.
This town is a sister in misfortune to Ypres, but the destruction was
even more complete because it was almost in the front line, and shells
of all calibres dropped in it well-nigh continuously day and night.
Peace-time bridges, of course, had been obliterated, but soldiers had
built others to connect up the front line defence, which was east of the
river, with the rear. Who will ever forget Putney Bridge? Lancashire men
who knew nothing of its parent in London, had now perforce to take a
lively personal interest in this wobbly structure. There were two others
but they were not so famous as this because they were not so frequently
used. Many things can be camouflaged to deceive aircraft, but I think a
bridge over a river would tax the most ingenious in this art, hence,
although hidden from direct observation from the enemy lines, the Hun
had the exact position of these bridges, and, what was more
disconcerting, he also had the exact range. So he "dusted" them at
irregular intervals with various calibres, and trips across resembled
the noble game of running the gauntlet. This portion of night reliefs
was naturally particularly exciting. The late Lt.-Col. Marshall, V.C.,
when second in command to the 6th L.F's., provided an amusing story for
the division one day when a couple of officers failed to salute him in
the middle of Putney Bridge, he walking calmly across, and
they--obviously hurrying. He pulled them up and strafed them duly, then,
to force his point, he stood on the bridge and caused them to pass him
two or three times in a dignified manner and salute him correctly.
Luckily the Boche did not interfere in this little humorous interlude.
The Redan was a large triangular redoubt, with the base resting on the
river and having an artificial moat through the middle and on its other
two sides. It had been built many years ago to defend Nieuport and in
this war had played its part. The enemy had paid a good deal of
attention to it with heavy shells so it was considerably knocked about.
Most of the concreted dug-outs, however, were still intact, and they
served to house a good portion of the 7th in their support position.
Headquarters inhabited the ever famous Indiarubber House. This resembled
an innocent barn in appearance, and the Hun had hit it hard many many
times, but his shells had only bounced harmlessly off the solid
concealed concrete--hence its name. The French, in the quiet days, had
"done themselves well" here, and we thanked them for the excellent
supply of electric light which they had handed over.
It was when we took over the front line, however, that the real meaning
of the Nieuport sector was revealed. The ground was torn and devastated
like the Salient, but here the destruction and misery was increased by
floods, ever present in a greater or less degree. It had been impossible
to dig in the low ground, so the defences consisted of breastworks which
had been very much battered since the enemy had established his
superiority here in guns. Over this area the Boche had uninterrupted
observation from the ruins of Lombaertzyde, which lay on slightly higher
ground just within his lines. It was thus practically impossible to move
about by day, for the sight of khaki brought down a hurricane of whizz
bangs, special batteries being apparently told off for sniping of this
nature. Further, as we lay in a very sharp salient just here our men
could be plainly seen behind the breastworks by the enemy on their right
rear, and these people indulged in long range machine gun sniping.
Since our purpose was a "peaceful" one in this sector, we could see no
value in inviting the enemy to indulge in artillery and M.G. target
practice on us, so we lay "doggo" during the day. Everything had to be
done at night, and runners to the companies found this their busiest
time, wading thigh-deep through stretches of water, and picking their
way amongst innumerable shell holes in search of Company Headquarters.
This front also lent itself to heavy trench-mortar work by the Hun, and
"minnies" were constantly stealing over with evil intent to batter down
our flimsy breastworks. Battalion H.Q. and the signallers will probably
not easily forget the morning when they found themselves the objective
in this kind of work. One shot dropped plumb on the H.Q. concrete
shelter, half removing the roof and scattering the contents of the
orderly room in a disrespectful manner, whilst the next one pushed in
the signaller's dug-out, wounding L.-Cpl. Wild. It was the sang-froid of
a/R.S.M. Clough on this occasion, coupled with his sound work generally
in the line, which earned for him the Belgian Croix de Guerre.
Although the casualties were nothing like so numerous, still our men
agreed that for general conditions they preferred the Ypres sector to
this, and it certainly was a most depressing spot. One of the great
troubles was the number of canals, which, owing to the destruction of
the dams and locks, etc., were now affected by the tides, causing them
to overflow and flood our defensive works. This was another source of
glee to the Hun, and he played a most amusing game--to himself--of
allowing us to build up a dam and then promptly knocking it down with
5.9's and 8"s. One night, a new officer to the 7th, 2nd-Lt. J. H. Milne,
was in charge of a working party on one of these jobs when they were
suddenly subjected to heavy shelling. The dam was smashed and Milne
found his party broken up on each side of the canal. Realising that one
or two of the men on the opposite side of the canal to himself had been
hit, he, along with Sgt. Heath and Pte. Titchener, scrambled across,
although the shelling had not ceased, and looked after them, getting
them to places of safety. Milne received recognition for this, while
Sgt. Heath and Pte. Titchener were awarded Military Medals.
On the night of November 1st a most unfortunate incident occurred. We
were out in support again and were to relieve the 5th the following
night in the front line, the usual advance parties having been sent up.
Lt. Sievewright had gone up for "B" company, and whilst there some
scheme had been suddenly formed to go out a short distance to examine
new wire that had been put up. The party had ventured out beyond the
wire, however, and were suddenly assailed with a hurricane of bombs from
what appeared to be an enemy patrol or covering party. Sievewright and
two officers of the 5th were killed and two other ranks wounded. It was
an exceedingly unfortunate event for it was quite an impromptu venture
and it would appear that the usual patrol precautions had not been
considered so seriously as they would ordinarily have been. This was a
strange front, however, and extraordinary things happened, our brigade
not being the only one to suffer from mishaps, for on another night the
commanding officer of the 8th L.F's., whilst visiting his outposts
wandered into a Boche post and was never seen again, while the late
Lt.-Col. Marshall, V.C. (previously mentioned) did the same thing, but
after a short scrap with a Hun he managed to get away.
We had the 2nd Matrosen (Naval) division in front of us, and they were
really an enterprising lot. Undoubtedly our pressure upon Paschendaele
was making the German nervy on this sector, and he was under an
obligation to keep alive and display a vigorous activity. Further, his
morale was considerably heightened by the Teutonic success in Italy
which his wireless sets were busy blazoning forth to all the world. This
will account, therefore, for the sudden arrival of an enemy patrol
outside one of our isolated posts one night. They flung in bombs over
the scanty wire, inflicting casualties, and then rapidly departed. This
was a sting which had to be avenged, and while the 5th were in they
took first toll by meeting a Hun patrol in No Man's Land, and after
fighting it out returned triumphant with two prisoners, who proved to be
Bavarians, thus giving a valuable identification. When we took over, our
chance came very soon for a patrol was met on the same game as before.
The result was discomfiture of the enemy and the capture of a wounded
petty officer of the Matrosens. From these two events we could
approximately deduce the enemy divisional boundary. The next night,
determined to assert our superiority over the Boche, another of our
patrols from "A" company, journeyed forth, got through his wire, located
a post, and then filled it with bombs.
After seventeen days of amphibious soldiering in front of Nieuport we
were relieved by the 125th brigade, and went back for a welcome rest to
huts near Coxyde. Rumours drifted around about accompanying the 41st
division to Italy, but they did not materialise. Bitterly cold weather
suddenly arrived, however, which made us aware of the flimsiness of the
French huts in which we dwelt.