THE HINDENBURG LINE
On May 20 we engineered a most successful underground operation, and
very materially aided our infantry in capturing another 500 yards of
the famous Hindenburg line. In order to understand the situation more
clearly, I will endeavor to explain briefly the construction of these
Hindenburg-line trenches. They had undoubtedly been constructed during
the months previous to the German retreat and were cleverly planned
and executed. It was apparent that the enemy had intended to retreat
to them and to hold them at any cost, and their subsequent capture by
the British must have occasioned the Boche General Staff considerable
surprise and pain. It was evident that the Germans last year, instead
of constructing armored tanks to oppose ours, had decided to build
large, deep trenches which they hoped would prove in most cases an
insurmountable obstacle to the British tanks. The tanks could not
normally cross a very wide trench, but the terrific artillery
bombardment of the British succeeded in levelling off the trenches so
that a tank commander by careful observation would be able to spot
places at intervals over which he could waddle his machine. The usual
three lines--reserve, support, and front--had been built, very heavy,
wide, and dense barbed-wire obstacles separating them. All of these
trenches were approximately twelve to fourteen feet deep and fourteen
feet wide at the top. Opening from the sides at about fifty yards'
intervals were dugout entrances built at an angle of forty-five
degrees to the surface.
These entrances all opened out at the bottom into a uniform gallery
six feet by four in size. The galleries ran underground for miles; one
could go down an entrance in one village and come up again ten or more
miles away in another. Everywhere there was an overhead cover of hard
chalk and clay of from thirty to forty feet. As happens in nearly all
of the Boche underground work, the tunnels and dugouts were all built
of four-inch oak case sets, closely timbered throughout. On both sides
of the tunnel at frequent intervals small chambers were cut out for
the use of officers, non-coms., and cooks. In the main galleries the
sides were lined with double bunks, in size six feet by two, made
roughly of two-by-four lumber with chicken wire nailed across for the
men to sleep on.
As these bunks took up about two feet of the four-foot width of
gallery, it must have made it very difficult for the stretcher-bearers
to move the wounded out. The enemy incidentally had very accurate
surveys of these trenches and could always be relied on to place their
shells squarely on or in these captured trenches.
Their former German garrisons had done themselves very well, and many
evidences of comfort were found which are absent from our own
trenches.
[Illustration: View from rear of a typical German reinforced concrete
machine-gun emplacement. Taken on the Hindenburg line south of Arras.
Although the trench itself was blown to pieces by British artillery
fire and the machine-gun crew either killed or captured, no harm was
done to the concrete emplacement.]
At intervals of approximately 100 yards the Germans had built
reinforced concrete emplacements, with usually the top of the
emplacement, or pill-box, from a foot to 18 inches above the surface
of the surrounding ground. These well-nigh impregnable positions were
all very ingeniously camouflaged, and could not be detected by the
sharpest eyes from the direction of our trenches until one was almost
on top of them; and even then the only thing to be seen were one or
two firing loopholes. The illustration shown here was from a
photograph taken in the Hindenburg line from behind the "pill-box,"
where, of course, no screening was necessary.
It will be readily seen that this emplacement had not been damaged
much; in fact, it was practically intact, only small pieces of
concrete having been chipped off by our shells. The trench itself had
been almost obliterated by our artillery-fire, and the sides so
destroyed that it was possible for a tank to cross. The emplacements
in the Hindenburg line, as elsewhere, were variously used as
machine-gun posts, observation-posts, trench-mortar positions,
snipers' posts, etc. The British referred to this type of concrete
pill-box as a "Mebus." It was a matter of considerable difficulty to
destroy them from above by artillery-fire, and even if our gunners
made a direct hit with a heavy shell it was seldom put out of
business.
About a week before the time I have referred to we were informed that
two infantry assaults had come "unstuck" and the parties composing
them nearly all "scuppered" by reason of the heavy and accurate fire
coming from a double machine-gun concrete emplacement some 200 feet in
front of our most advanced barricade in the Hindenburg trench opposite
the village of Fontaine-les-Croisilles. The artillery had endeavored
several times to destroy this position, but were not successful. It
became necessary to remove it.
The division staff then inquired of our company commander as to
whether we could do anything from below. He thought we could and my
section was detailed for the job. My company commander, Captain
Miller, incidentally one of the finest sportsmen I ever wish to meet,
was delighted with the opportunity.
The subsoil here was a hard chalk, and the top-soil a sandy clay, the
latter averaging from seven to ten feet in thickness. It was essential
to the success of our scheme that we confine our underground tunnel to
the clay, it being possible to excavate in the clay almost without
noise, while in the chalk below this could not be done.
Starting from an old dugout entrance we constructed a tunnel
approximately four by two feet for some distance, and from this point
to our objective continued a "rabbit-hole" three feet by two in size.
As we had only an average of two feet of clay above our gallery we
were considerably bothered by our own shells landing near, and on one
occasion they destroyed it with an eighteen-pounder. At other times we
broke through into shell-craters on our way over. One night after a
heavy rain I was on duty in the tunnel when we were pretty close to
the German pill-box and their crew. The earth sloughed away from the
top of the gallery and exposed the timber of our gallery-sets. We blew
out the candles at once and very carefully placed some muddy sand-bags
over the exposed portion. Being so near the Boche sentries, we were
fearful that they would have spotted our light, heard our low
whispering, or even our heavy breathing.
The next night we struck the concrete of the emplacement, and very
carefully excavating down to the bottom of the clay against the
position, we placed a charge of some 500 pounds of high explosive,
carefully inserted the usual detonators and electric leads tamped the
gallery for some 30 feet back in the tunnel, and the next dawn at the
"zero" hour fired the charge the instant the infantry went over the
top.
The resulting explosion very satisfactorily disposed of the
troublesome "Mebus" and largely enabled the 4th King's Liverpool
Regiment to capture some 200 yards of the trenches. Some 12 hours
later the 2d Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders continued the attack
and captured an additional 300 yards, as far forward as the River
Sensée (at this time a dried-up stream). In addition to a large number
of Germans killed, they captured many wounded and over 60 unwounded
prisoners that day, the latter caught in the underground tunnels
completely by surprise. Early the next morning the Germans attempted a
counter-attack in force, but the assembly having been observed by the
F.O.O.'s, the gunners promptly and efficiently broke up the party.
I noticed the next day that smoke was issuing from a number of the
tunnel entrances in the area captured, and other entrances were badly
burned. In conversation with one of the Scotch officers it developed
that the Jocks invited the Huns to come up out of the dugouts only
once with their hands up to surrender. If they failed to respond
promptly, bombs would be thrown down into the tunnels to expedite
matters. This officer complained that he had posted sentries to guard
the prisoners at each dugout entrance, but that as soon as his back
was turned some trouble would occur, which necessitated more bombing
practice on the part of the Scotch sentry. This was only a small
affair, a battalion stunt. Everywhere along this front each day some
attacks would take place, perhaps a regimental or brigade attack, or
at other times just a small company raid.
For a day or two after this attack our trenches here were filled with
the bodies of Germans and British. H.E. and bombs are terrible things.
It's all too big for words! I can only describe some of the incidents
I saw or was connected with. These are typical of what was constantly
occurring, and this was happening everywhere in our vicinity. The
bodies and even uniforms were almost torn to pieces. Below in the
dugouts were the German dead and wounded, the dead in every
conceivable position, lying sprawled across the steps of the dugout
entrances, half hanging from the dugout bunks, or on the floors of the
tunnel. The wounded had been given first-aid treatment, and our
soldiers were giving them a share of their rations and cigarettes.
Some of our men were searching around for German souvenirs, the
invariable practice after the first excitement of an attack is over. I
tried to talk to some wounded Germans, but couldn't get very far with
the conversation, then left them some cigarettes and passed on. We
found many things of value. The Boches had set up an electrical
listening-instrument in the chalk from the tunnel below, but had
apparently, unfortunately for themselves, neglected to listen to our
underground work in the clay above.
Attacks were made almost daily on this front. A week or so before the
attack just described, a party of the Leicester Regiment had suffered
badly. A party of some 200 wounded infantry, including, I believe,
some other units, had been captured by the Huns and placed for the
time being in a German barbed-wire prisoners' cage in the village of
Fontaine-les-Croisilles. This village was a popular target with our
artillery, and soon after these British soldiers had been placed in
the cage it was shelled badly by the English gunners.
The account comes from a wounded corporal whom we helped to haul in
over the parapet one night. He stated that during the bombardment the
Hun sentries bolted and all these prisoners who could walk or crawl
escaped, a few of them, including himself, managing to reach No Man's
Land and at night our own trenches. Although a prisoner for only a
short time, his account of the treatment accorded them confirms all of
the stories of the brutality inherent in the German race. No treatment
was given to the wounded, not even first-aid. No water or food of any
kind was allowed them, and whenever a German guard noticed a prisoner
looking up or around, he was struck over the head.
The same night a sergeant of the same battalion crawled back over our
parapet after having spent four days in No Man's Land with a broken
arm. The poor chap had been bombed, and sniped at as he crawled
painfully back, and machine-guns all along the line had opened fire on
him. No one was to blame; all sentries have explicit instructions to
fire at anything moving in No Man's Land. It was a marvel he even
reached our parapet, but he told us there were other poor fellows out
there still alive. Rescue-parties were instantly organized and brought
in all the poor chaps they could find.
One of our own tanks had broken down in a previous attack and was now
lying in a shallow sunken road about twenty yards from our most
advanced position. The caterpillar tread of this machine had broken,
and it was then occupied by an infantry detail, the former tank crew
having gone back to man another tank. From this machine we could get
good observation of the enemy trenches. To get to it in daytime we had
to double across the road and get inside in a hurry.
It is an unfortunate fact that many of our men were wounded from our
own shelling in these Hindenburg trenches. When a programme "strafe"
by our heavy guns and howitzers was planned on the nearest enemy
trenches, it was the practice to withdraw the infantry and engineer
parties who were on duty or working in our most advanced trenches.
With the ever-increasing destructive radius of our heavy H.E. shells
it was impossible to avoid a certain percentage of casualties of this
nature. Occasionally also other shells would burst short. I was
standing by the side of a sentry one day when his arm was broken by a
shell fragment, and every one can record instances of close shaves
from them.
With the bulk of the German troops opposite us in deep dugouts most of
their time, it was an increasing problem with the gunners to secure
targets. I was observing one day with an F.O.O. when we spotted a
couple of Boches running across from one trench to another. He
promptly called to his telephonist to order three guns of Battery No.
---- (three-inch) to open fire on them. At the same time he remarked:
"We're doing lots of sniping with our eighteen-pounders these days."
One day about this time I was walking back to the village of Hénin
with my section commander when a staff limousine pulled up on the road
and a staff captain and half a dozen correspondents stepped out. The
staff captain inquired as to whether there were any of the new heavy
howitzer batteries near us and, if so, could we recommend them as
being reasonably safe. The correspondents wished to see some in
action. As it happened, there was a 9.2-inch battery quite close and
we introduced these gentlemen to the gunner major in charge of the
battery. Mr. Hilaire Belloc was pointed out to me as one of the party.
I understand the latter gentleman walked on to the first Hindenburg
line shortly after.
Our main company camp at this time was at Boisleau-St.-Mare, some
three to four miles back. We could usually figure here on being out of
the war, as we expressed it. Nevertheless, one day when we were at
lunch in one of the Nissen huts, of corrugated-iron construction, the
Huns were shelling an observation-balloon near us. Numerous fragments
struck the hut. Some of us decided to lunch in our tin hats. One of
the mess-waiters was severely wounded in the head at the same time.
The shelling of camps at this distance was rather exceptional, though,
and only occurred at intervals.
My furlough coming due toward the end of May, I applied to the brigade
commander for leave to visit Paris. The request was not granted,
apparently on account of the fact that too many officers were
applying. Instead of going to Paris, I crossed over to London for the
ten days' "permission."
Whilst in London and some two days before I left to return to the
trenches in France, General Pershing and his staff arrived in
Liverpool and came on down to London. Since our declaration of war I
had been trying very persistently to transfer to our own army, but had
not had much success. General Pershing and his officers were stopping
at the Savoy Hotel. I immediately called on some of the engineer
officers, being delighted to see and talk to some real American men
again after such a long time. The officers were much interested and
did their best to straighten matters out so that I could be at once
transferred. Unfortunately, there was some red tape to unentangle, and
finally I was advised to hand in my written resignation as a British
officer and ask the British authorities to accept it on the grounds
that I wished to join my own army, and thought my experience would be
of value in training our men. Accordingly I mailed my resignation from
London to my commanding officer and returned to the trenches.
On my return to the Cambrai sector I found my section were engaged in
salvaging enemy timber and other material from the old German lines
near us. After a short time at this work I was ordered to take command
of another of our company sections who were at that time building new
dugouts near the Hindenburg trenches close to Bullecourt. There had
been a recent mining alarm there, but our fellows had, as I was
informed, satisfactorily disposed of it. In the course of a few days I
received a "chit" (note) from the brigade major of the infantry
occupying the sector, stating that "suspicious noises believed to be
enemy mining" had been reported from a Lewis-gun party who were
occupying a "Mebus" (old German pill-box) at the end of Lump Lane, the
latter a forward trench which served as a communication between two
firing-trenches. Accompanied by an experienced miner I visited the
"Mebus" and we both listened for some time. We heard the enemy
working, but could get nothing satisfactory from this spot. A short
distance from the "Mebus" in No Man's Land we found an old dugout
entrance which had been half filled in with loose earth. We carefully
crawled down this and listened. Very soon we heard the Germans talking
and walking past in the gallery below us, going past us and in the
direction of the "Mebus." One man would go down while the other
remained on top in order to cover against surprise. Every time we
moved whilst listening in this entrance a shower of dirt would slip
and run down the sides of the gallery, making considerable noise. This
was not pleasant, as we expected the Huns to hear it. We reported the
situation to the infantry and advised their withdrawing their post
from the end of Lump Lane. In addition to the Lewis-gun post there was
a bombers' post of four to six men within twenty yards of the former.
The infantry company commander was very loath to act on our advice,
particularly as the "Mebus" was an admirable observation-post.
The next day the divisional commander visited this sector of his front
and, hearing of the suspected mining, ordered me to report to him. At
the battalion dugout I repeated to him the advice I had given the
company commander, with the result that he promptly instructed the
latter officer to withdraw the posts referred to.
In order to play safe, we at once started to counter-mine from
trenches a little farther back. A few days later the Huns fired a mine
almost directly under the "Mebus." The infantry occupying the former
post would most certainly have been all killed.
It was quite evident that, although the trenches above had been
captured from the Boche, below ground the old tunnels had not been
destroyed at this place. Usually, as the Huns retired in the
Hindenburg line, they destroyed the galleries below as well as
barricading the trenches on top.
Our work in the Hindenburg trenches was most interesting. Relics of
the former inhabitants were around everywhere, buried or half buried
in the trench above and lying around in the galleries below. Uniforms,
equipment, bombs, ammunition, even black bread and sausage, cigars,
beer, and numerous other things were found. The work of cleaning them
out was a big task. All dugouts have a peculiar "fug" of their own,
but these German dugouts were particularly unpleasant. The work of
repairing the tunnels and rebuilding these parts which they had
destroyed was given to us. Most of my company were split into small
parties, and our work extended for several miles along this front.
Some six or eight of our men would be detailed to dugouts or other
work, and each of these parties would have usually from fifteen to
twenty infantrymen to assist them.
At this time the Australians were having some very heavy fighting at
Bullecourt. The enemy had made over twelve counter-attacks in
attempting to recover the positions lost. The roads through Croisilles
and up to the trenches were badly shelled. The alertness of the
military police stationed at crossroads certainly saved many
casualties. The familiar "shelling up the road, sir," often prevented
our running into bad spots. We would wait for a short while and then
go on.
Our men, instead of marching up the roads in artillery formation,
would in the daytime hike across the fields in groups of two or three,
usually trying to avoid battery positions. This undoubtedly reduced
our casualties. We gave them always a contract task to do, such as
placing three or four sets of timber, excavating the necessary dirt
and camouflaging the latter.
After long experience we found this method the most satisfactory. When
their work had been passed by the shift non-com., they could go out to
their camp. These section camps were approximately from a mile to a
mile and a half back of the trenches. For a time whilst in the
Bullecourt trenches we occupied dugouts in a chalk quarry in the
support-line. When things were fairly quiet we would ride right up to
this point on our motorcycles. These chalk dugouts were also the
regimental headquarters and first-aid post. In a cubbyhole opposite
ours in these quarters I met one of the most genial M.O.'s (medical
officers) I ever knew. His good humor was infectious and his light,
cheery badinage to his patients of the utmost value. On the 18th of
July, after having been up on our two days' shift, I said good-by to
this officer, thinking I would be back again in another forty-eight
hours. On my arrival at the section-camp I was greeted with the news
that my resignation had been accepted and that my name had appeared
in the official paper, the _London Gazette_ with the following
announcement: "Temp. Lieut. H. D. Trounce relinquished his commission
and is granted the honorary rank of second lieut., Royal
Engineers--July 15th."
I had been serving in the trenches as a civilian since the 15th of
July. As a matter of fact, I left the quarry at the right time. On
July 19th the Huns were shelling them with 250-mm. shells. Most of
them burst on top, each making craters about 30 feet wide and about 15
feet deep, though one with a defective fuse did not burst, but
penetrated through some 18 feet of hard chalk to our dugouts and
buried itself 15 feet below the floor about 10 feet away from our
bunk. Fortunately it did not burst there, though 4 or 5 men were
killed by the timber it smashed as it came through. The total
penetration was over 40 feet.
CONCLUSION
My experience has been in no way unique; thousands of other men have
gone through and are now experiencing much greater risks and hardships
than any I have so far encountered. Fortunate men like myself live to
write or talk of them, but in doing so feel almost contemptible to
themselves when they compare their lot with those of the men who have
given their lives and their all in the great sacrifice for the cause
of humanity. However, we have taken our chance and now we are only too
glad of an opportunity to tell of the bravery and cheerfulness of our
comrades in the trenches. In my account I have related a number of
characteristic incidents which came within my own observation, or
which happened on our small front. Thousands of such incidents are
happening every day all along the line and are a part of the every-day
life.
On my return to the United States I returned to California for a short
vacation and the rest I badly needed. In October, 1917, I received a
commission as a captain in the Engineer Reserve Corps, and reported
again for duty, and I now am expecting that I will be shortly ordered
overseas again.
When I return this time it will not be for love of adventure,
curiosity, or any such reason, only the same sense of duty which
impels most of us to the task. Although there is undoubtedly a certain
fascination which admits of no reasonable explanation in living in and
going up to the trenches, I have never yet met a man who has spent a
_long_ period there who can truthfully tell me he really likes it.
Our great army is still new to us, but, nevertheless, I believe it is
the duty of every person with a fair sense of justice, to learn to
distinguish between the various aims of the service. The infantryman
is the man who undergoes most of the dangers and risks, the real
fighting man, and the man too who experiences the greatest hardships
and discomforts. Find out if you can where a man has served, whether
it was in the trenches or in a more or less comfortable billet in a
village far from the lines and appreciate him accordingly. When
successful actions occur in which the infantry, as usual, are the main
heroes, don't forget the work of the engineer which made much of the
success possible. A lady said to me recently: "Why, the engineers are
in no danger, they don't go into the trenches, do they?" I hope that
my account of an engineer's life at the front will do something to
dismiss such ideas.
Every man and woman who plays his or her full part in this great
struggle is justly accorded honor, and the greater the sacrifice the
greater the honor.
I would not depreciate for a minute the value to the country of those
men in the rear of the lines who are a necessary and vital part of the
machinery of war, but I am jealous for the men who suffer most and
endure almost unbearable hardships in the real trenches.
No officer who has served in this campaign has anything but the most
unstinted praise for the men in the ranks--the real workers and the
real fighting men. Many of us have felt at times that we were hardly
fit to even tie their shoe-laces, such examples of cheerfulness and
courage did they set us, and such inspiration did they afford us with
their never-tiring devotion. Thoughts of this nature occurred to me
last year when we buried one of our own lads just behind the lines,
and paid him the last and only salute that an enlisted man receives.
But his memory will never die!