Dawn found the Canadian infantry still entrenched in Craters 6 and 7,
but with no visible progress towards the enemy positions. The
attacking parties had lost their way or been overwhelmed by sheer
exhaustion. This is the more remarkable, because it is clear that the
Germans were throughout the night in position in Craters 4 and 5.
[Sidenote: _Night, April 6th-7th, 1916._]
It thus appears that throughout the night of April 6th-7th, the enemies
can only have been separated by the distance of less than forty yards,
between Craters 6 and 5. In fact, a few German patrols, as much
confused as their opponents, walked straight into the Canadian craters
in the dark and were taken prisoners! And yet neither side succeeded
in coming to grips with the other. It was as though an impenetrable
curtain had fallen between the contending parties of infantry. The
mud, the darkness, and the shells made every movement a failure. That
such a state of affairs could be possible can only be understood by the
insight of imagination or by an actual experience of the ground and the
conditions. But a study of the photographs taken by aeroplanes makes
it at least intelligible. Among the infinite traceries of lines,
trenches new and old, which wrinkle the surface of the chart, the rims
of the four great centre craters stand out ominous and distinct. We
actually see down into the hollows held by the lurking Germans as one
gazes through the sunlit depths of a rock-bound pool to where the tiny
monsters of the deep dart in and out of their caves and recesses upon
the clear floor of the sea. Away to the right lies Crater 1, a perfect
circle of light and shade with its foliated edges like the milling on
the rim of a coin. Across a flattish, almost unmarked surface, the
Canadian and the British communication trenches drive north and south
of it from the strong serrated line of our own trenches, until they
strike the intricate tangle of the old German front line. But turn
your eyes to the centre and to the ground which lies directly between
St. Eloi and the craters. The old outstanding British position on the
right crumbles away into a vague tangle of flattened outlines. Behind
it the whole surface of the ground is pockmarked with the white dots
which indicate shell-holes, and in front of it there is no solid earth
at all, but a bewildering labyrinth of minor craters spreading out till
they touch the four huge eruptions.
[Illustration: St. Eloi Craters]
On the left the space is a trifle more open. Craters 6 and 7 held by
us can be distinguished as mere holes separated by some forty or fifty
yards from the giant rim of Crater 5. From high up it looks so clear,
but to the men struggling in the dark over that quagmire, sweating to
dig themselves in by daylight under the pitiless hail of death, it
appeared confusion worse confounded. Looking down from a great
altitude on the passionless picture in high relief it is hard to
imagine that here men battled in the mud till they could do so no more,
and tasted the bitterness of failure as they fought and died for their
country. The photographic record seems cold compared with the ideals
and efforts the result of which it enshrines. One turns from it as one
might turn from the privacy of the human soul outraged by Omniscience.
All this chaos was to the advantage of the Germans once they had seized
the dominant position.
From the rear came continued orders to take the enemy's entrenchments
at any cost, and a constant trickle of reinforcements was sent
struggling up the communication trenches or dashing across the open in
groups the moment the barrage lifted. But in the conditions existing
at the front, all these groups seemed to melt away. Units went up and
were heard of no more at Headquarters. The bare official reports are
tragic. One can select any one at random; for instance, this from
Lieut.-Col. Embury, of the 28th:--"I told Capt. A. G. Styles (28th) he
was to come around north of the craters. He started off at 11.30 and
left part of his men with Major Daly. It was dark and raining hard and
we had never seen the ground before. The craters looked just like the
ordinary ground. Styles went up and found Lieut. V. P. Murphy (25th)
at 4 o'clock a.m., but had no time to fix up for the attack. The men
were all in; they had only had three hours' sleep in forty-eight."
[Sidenote: _Night, April 6th-7th, 1916._] But it is impossible for the
contemporary writer in the space at his disposal to give a clear and
detailed picture of the movements of all these units or of the valour
displayed by individuals. The fog of war lies heavy on the scene of
confusion and heroic effort, and if (which is very unlikely) it is to
be lifted at all, it must be by the hand of the future historian. The
troops did their best, but the odds both of man and Nature were against
them. The 28th Battalion throughout the fighting set a notable example
of gallantry and endurance.
That night of April 6th-7th the Germans effected their relief.
They had, by all accounts of prisoners, suffered very severely from the
fire of our artillery--but they had held on, retiring by a perverse
stroke of irony to our own second line trench dug south of the crater
when the bombardment became intolerable. It cannot be questioned that
if we had been fully aware of the relative positions of the two forces
the British artillery could have blown their opponents bodily out of
the craters.
That night, too, the 4th Brigade began to come up to the relief. The
6th Brigade had done its best; it had been fighting continuously for
three days and nights; its supply of rations had been intermittent;
many of its officers and men had had no sleep for days, and the
exhaustion bred of shell-fire and mud was upon it. Its casualties were
in all 617 officers and men. The 27th had borne the brunt of the first
German onrush and suffered proportionately. Eight of its officers and
209 of its rank and file had been killed or wounded. The 31st, which
held its line for the longest period in the Brigade, came next with a
roll of 180 casualties. The 29th lost 117, and the 28th, 101. The
Brigade had failed, but it had failed gloriously!
[Sidenote: _April 7th-8th, 1916._]
The relief could only be accomplished by degrees. To move large bodies
of men up simultaneously was impracticable, and the fighting was
therefore continued by mixed battalions of the two brigades. The 4th
Brigade, under General Rennie, consisted of the 18th (Western Ontario),
commanded by Lieut.-Col. Wigle; 19th (Ontario), under Lieut.-Col. J. T.
Maclaren; 20th (Northern and Central Ontario), under Lieut.-Col. C. H.
Rogers, and the 21st (Eastern Ontario), under Lieut.-Col. Hughes. In
effect, the relief, which lasted over four nights, put the 21st instead
of the 27th on the right in the trenches, the 18th replacing the 28th
in the centre support position; while the 19th took the place of the
31st on our left and in the Canadian craters. But the Higher Command
of the 2nd Division, which exhibited throughout great determination,
was not content to await the full relief before it launched a new
attack on the enemy. [Sidenote: _Night, April 8th-9th, 1916._] On the
night of the 8th-9th fresh assault was launched against Craters 2 and 3.
[Illustration: ATTACK ON THE GERMANS NIGHT OF 8TH TO 9TH APRIL 1916]
The object of this attack was to effect a lodgment on the north-west
side of Crater 2 and on the north side of Crater 3--that is to say, to
secure a position where the St. Eloi-Wytschaete road passes through the
craters and bends to the right. The assault on the right was led by
Capt. Miller, of the 21st, who was wounded during the engagement. He
and a small bombing party succeeded in getting to the edge of Crater 2
under a heavy fire, and in the blackness of the night crept up
unobserved. Here Pte. Comego had his right arm shattered. In spite of
his excruciating agony he managed to control himself when a single
sound would have given away the presence of the whole party. They had
expected to find only about twenty of the enemy, but, discovering a far
stronger force, beat a retreat to secure reinforcements. Fifty more
men of the 21st went up with Lieut. Brownlee, who distinguished himself
by conspicuous gallantry, to make a renewed attempt. By this time,
however, the alarm had been given, and such a tornado of fire was
turned on "No Man's Land" that the attack stuck fast. [Sidenote: _3.30
A.M., April 9th, 1916._] At 3.30 in the morning the exhausted survivors
succeeded in struggling back to the trench. In the course of the
advance and of vigorous exchange of bombs with the Germans, they had
lost three-fourths of their number.
Great bravery was displayed by many men of the 21st. Sniper Zacharias
used his rifle in the assault until it was blown out of his hands; he
then became a grenadier and hurled bombs at the Germans until his party
retired. Two lance-corporals, Currie and Henderson, made heroic
efforts to drag the wounded back into the trench under heavy and
continuous fire. As a result practically all the wounded of the 21st
were evacuated by the stretcher-bearers.
The attack on Crater 3 by the 18th met with no better success. Lieut.
Kerr, who had reconnoitred the ground on the previous evening, led the
party on, but the heavy barrage of the enemy checked the progress, and
finally they had to content themselves with re-occupying the old
British line and putting an outpost position in advance of it, fifty
yards in front of the German crater.
The 18th (Western Ontario) fought throughout with great courage.
Lieut. Kerr was wounded, and Lieut. Baxter had been untiring in the
most dangerous form of reconnaissance, working on unknown ground;
Lieut. Elliott, the signal officer, went out over and over again into
the open to establish and keep connection between the front position
and battle headquarters, and was well backed by his men. But, as in
the case of the 21st, in this attack the great difficulty was to bring
in the wounded. Capt. McKeough, Company Sergt.-Major Richardson,
Sergt. Cunningham, Sergt. Bowie, and Lance-Cpl. Evans dashed out time
after time to bring the casualties in. Private Tom Jones, said to have
been in turn a deserter from the British Army, the British Navy, and
the American Army, though quite a young boy, lost his life at this
stage of the action. He had been helping to carry Lieut. Clarke
(18th), who was wounded, into safety, and on returning to guide an
officer up, was shot clean through the head, to the grief of his
regiment. The attack had suffered heavily, losing 100 men in killed
and wounded. In the meantime, the 19th Battalion was engaged in
relieving the 31st in the Canadian craters on the night of the 8th and
9th. Lieut. Hooper (19th Batt.), the grenade officer of the battalion,
had undertaken the risky work of reconnoitring the position in advance,
and Majors Moors and Morrison (19th Batt.) held this very awkward bit
of the line in succession. The 19th, in fact, like the 31st, could
give very little active assistance to the assaults, for their position
in Craters 6 and 7 was dominated by the German Crater 5, and was
exposed to heavy shelling. The main object was to hold their own, and
this, it may be said, they succeeded in doing. Orders, however, to
retake the German positions were peremptory, and, as each wave of
assault recoiled under the fire of the enemy, and because of the
impossible state of the ground underfoot, a new one was promptly
organised for the succeeding night.
[Sidenote: _Night, April 9th-10th, 1916._]
The attack on the night of the 9th was of a extensive character, and
achieved at least some measure of success. The 20th were brought up
from brigade reserve and thrown into a line between the right of the
18th and the left of the 21st, and pushed into action. The main idea
of the Higher Command was a very sound one, if due allowance be made
for the extent of their knowledge. The German craters, then supposed
to consist only of Craters 2 and 3, were to be attacked simultaneously
on three sides.
The 21st were to attack Crater 2 from their own front and through
Crater 1, taking their left in reverse, and reoccupy the positions at
Sackville Centre and Fredericton Fort which had been held by Capts.
Gwynn and Meredith during the morning of April 6th. The 20th, to their
left, were to attack Crater 2 from the north-west. The 18th, further
to the left of the line, were to attack Craters 2 and 3 from the north.
The 19th, continuing the line again to the left, were to close in and
assault the Germans on their right flank, and so practically enclose
them. The first plan shows the position as it actually was; the second
as it was according to the information of the Higher Command.
[Illustration: Maps--Action on the night of April 9th to 10th 1916.]
But here again all assaults from the north broke down utterly. The men
simply could not get on, and came staggering back into the line at dawn
with heavy casualties and in a state bordering on collapse. On the
right, however, a glint of success visited our standards. It had been
discovered on the previous night that Crater 1 was not in the hands of
the enemy. Lieut. Davidson (21st)--taking the place of Capt. Miller
who had been wounded in the assault of the 8th--and Lieut. Brownlee
once more led a strong party of bombers from our trenches up into
Crater 1. Seizing this, they charged into the old German line about
Fredericton Fort, where it had been held during the German main attack
by Capt. Meredith and Capt Gwynn. They took back this lost ground and
advanced north along the trench to capture Crater 2 from behind. This
they failed to do, but they established themselves close to its
south-west rim. The ground won was retained and consolidated, and the
2nd Division once more held much the same position as it did on the
morning of April 6th.
Col. Wigle, of the 18th Battalion, had been in charge of both these
successive night attacks, and his account of the failure of his own
Battalion and of the 20th to get on in this last attempt throws up in
high relief the difficulties confronting the commanders in all these
operations. "They had no proper information as to the ground in front
of them. They could not find a guide to locate Crater 3 at night--a
heavy bombardment retarded progress, and Lieut. Clarke reported that
his party could not get through. The Brigade said the attack must
proceed. The result of the operation brought no change from the
position of the previous night."
The 19th Battalion continued during this assault to maintain the
positions in the Canadian craters it had taken over from the 31st
Battalion on April 8th, and continued to do so until its relief on the
12th, Lieuts. Thomson and Macdonald commanding the garrison of Crater
7, and Lieuts. Pepler and Cassells of Crater 6. An advanced
machine-gun emplacement in a very exposed position was held by Privates
D. C. Ballantine, A. W. Sharpe, and W. Hull, for 70 hours without
repose or relief. There were many other notable examples of gallantry
in the regiment. Cpl. A. F. Lynch went out and dragged in a
machine-gun, the entire crew of which had been killed. Private Hagan
carried Private Hoffman, who had been wounded in both legs, to a place
of safety 500 yards away through a heavy artillery barrage. Lance-Cpl.
Bishop and Private Schwann, D.C.M., carried food and water out from the
front trench to the garrisons of the craters, who had been cut off from
all supplies for 48 hours. This act was done in broad daylight, when
to move was almost certain death. The 19th did well.
Nor were the 20th, though less continuously engaged, far behind them in
their record of individual heroism. Lieut. C. A. Thomson helped to
dress the wounded men of his own and other companies under heavy fire
during the night attack of April 9th-10th, though he himself was hit
through the leg by a rifle bullet. He remained with his men till dawn
and then dragged himself back for first aid--a journey which took four
hours. Private Cooke, too, a stretcher-bearer, went on binding up the
wounded long after he was hit, and Private B. Asquith carried a comrade
to safety single-handed under a heavy fire.
The Lewis gun team of the 20th, under Sergt. Simpson, also exhibited
marked courage and endurance. They were under fire continuously from
April 5th to 12th, held Crater 6 against an encircling attack of German
bombers, repulsed the attack, and took three prisoners.
Wave upon wave of men had been thrust forward in succession to retake
the lost positions, yet as each party came up it seemed to melt away in
the noise, squalor, and confusion of the front line. The telephones
from behind were perpetually jangling with the urgent messages from the
Brigade, "You must get on at any cost," and when the wires were cut in
spite of the heroic efforts of the regimental signallers to make them
good, runner after runner risked his life in a dash across the
shell-swept area with the same pressing orders. Urged on by their
commanders and their own indomitable spirit, the regiments renewed the
attack again and again. But they could not get on. In the daylight
the air was full of flying steel, and the bright light showed the
assailants to their enemies so plainly that the lines of the attackers
withered away under that devastating hail. By night the impenetrable
darkness and the chaos of earth and water enveloped each succeeding
party before they could get to grips with the enemy, in the dark hours
small parties were wandering round trying to find their location in
vain. The survivors returned almost fainting with exhaustion to the
nearest detachment they could find. Some were left behind as day
broke, in the precarious shelter of small holes. Private Warn, of the
29th Battalion, lived for nine days in such a position subsisting on
the rations and water-bottles taken from the bodies of men of the 3rd
British Division killed in the fighting of the last days of March.
Marvellous to relate, he rejoined his unit in safety after his long
sojourn with the dead.
The company officers had throughout behaved with unflinching gallantry
and vigour, nor had their men failed in any way to second their
continued efforts. Man had done his best, but he had been defeated by
Nature.
With this assault, then, ended the second phase of the Battle of St.
Eloi. The first period had witnessed the success of the German raid on
the craters, the second the repeated failure of the counter-attacks; we
now enter on the third phase, the consolidation of the line which
remained in our hands.
[Sidenote: _Night, April 11th-12th, 1916._]
On the night of the 11th began the relief of the 4th Brigade by the
5th; their casualties had been 14 officers and 389 men.[1]
The whole action must be regarded as a counter-battle fought under the
worst possible circumstances. The original advance of the 3rd British
Division over the shattered mine craters had met with strong resistance
and an unexpected concentration of artillery fire, parallel to that of
Verdun. It is probable that the enemy were already planning an attack
of their own. They were, however, taken by surprise and lost the first
trick in the game. Their reply was instant and effective. Smashing
down the ruined trenches in front of them before they could be made
good by the defenders under a deluge of high explosive they found a
hole in the line and seized the dominant position. After this coup,
the weather and the guns combined to make movement on either side
almost impossible in a front battered out of all recognition. Had the
Germans known it, there were no front-line trenches worthy of the name
opposed to them at St. Eloi itself for days, and even the second-line
positions had been battered to bits. But, in fact, they could no more
advance than we could. The barrage of our artillery prevented, for
them too, any heavy concentration behind the craters, and they hung on
desperately, as we did, to the ground in their possession. From the
beginning General Turner had formed a clear view of the situation on
which he based his operations. From the infantry point of view the
weakness of the position was the extreme narrowness of the front, which
enabled the enemy's guns to concentrate on a line the length of which
was only from 600 to 1,000 yards. This made successful movement
impossible under fire, for there was no cover for the massing of men
preparatory to the assault, and the small parties available were cut
down in a narrow area by the full weight of the massed guns. On the
other hand, the weakness from the point of view of the British and
Canadian gunners was the nearness of our lines to those of the enemy
and the uncertainty of all precise locations. This latter factor was
terribly aggravated by the mistake about Craters 4 and 5. Two
alternatives then offered themselves. The first was to make a renewed
assault on a far wider front from Ruined Farm or beyond, on the left,
to Piccadilly Farm on the right, and so scatter the enemy's shell fire.
The second was to get well back from the craters and destroy their
garrison by a concentrated hail fire from the heavy guns. It was not
practicable to adopt either of these courses, and it was decided to
reconstruct the old British line and to hold fast to the two craters in
our possession.
The work of reconstruction fell to the lot of the 5th Brigade under
General Watson. As has been stated, on the night of April 11th the
moves for the relief of the 4th Brigade began and General Watson took
over the line in the early morning. The front was for the moment
comparatively quiet. The 26th (New Brunswick) relieved the 19th on the
left, the 22nd (French Canadians) took over from the 21st on the right,
the 24th (Victoria Rifles) relieved the 18th in the Centre Support
position, while the 25th (Nova Scotia) remained for the moment in
Brigade Reserve. By April 13th the relief was accomplished. The
position taken over by General Watson consisted of the tenable trenches
and posts in the old British line, the Craters 6 and 7 and the advanced
trenches in Crater 1, and Sackville Centre and outposts to the north.
The task of consolidating this last position fell to the 24th (Victoria
Rifles). [Sidenote: _Night, April 14th-15th, 1916._] Two very daring
reconnaissances were made on the night of the 14th-15th by Lieuts.
Robertson and Duclos, and by Lieut. Greenshields and Major Ross, who
was in charge of this particular part of the line. As a result, the
position of the posts in the old German trench leading into Crater 2
were considerably strengthened and the approaches to Crater 1 were
heavily wired. From this time on it may be said that the ground
recaptured on the night of the 9th-10th by the 21st passed finally and
firmly into our hands. Lieut. Vernon, of the Corps Intelligence Staff,
came down during the relief from the Corps Commander to clear up the
actual state of affairs. His report was of immense value, though it
failed to note the crucial error about the craters, and confirmed the
Higher Command in the view that the first necessity was to remake a
sound front line. Nowhere, as Brig.-General Watson discovered, were we
anywhere as near the German positions as previous reports had led us to
imagine. So deep was the mud and slush that no patrols could move, and
the greatest difficulty was experienced in carrying up materials for
the repair of the line. From the trenches on the right to the trenches
near Shelley Farm, in the rear of our own craters was a gaping void
held precariously by a few isolated posts. The Brigade, however, set
to work tenaciously to make defences out of slush. Basing itself on
the line held in the extreme left, it succeeded in re-establishing a
considerable part of the line in the direction of the trenches on the
right. All this was done under heavy fire, and the repairing of
smashed-in parapets occupied as much time as the preparation of the
renewed line.
Some author will yet arise to sing the epic of digging. It is of all
work the most tedious and dangerous; there is no glory in it; and an
infinite amount of labour and risk. Yet the whole safety of the line
depends on the exertions of the digging parties. A well-kept line
spells comfort and security; a badly-kept one is a purgatory to its
occupants. Every battalion and brigade looks askance at the efforts of
its predecessors, but none the less rough justice is done in the common
opinion of the Army. The 6th Brigade, at any rate, strove valiantly;
sandbags were placed in position, and the front was at last protected
by coils of barbed wire. In the meantime the position of our troops in
the advance craters had for some time been the cause of serious
anxiety. Held in succession by garrisons of the 31st, the 19th, and
the 25th, throughout the battle they had, except at rare intervals,
been cut off from communication with the main body. Reliefs were
accomplished by the dashes of the parties in the dark; food and water
got up by the same method; and an occasional daring runner got through
by daylight, and carrier pigeons were for the first time in the war
employed as messengers. The orders were to hold on, but the value of
the position was most uncertain. The two small craters lay in advance
of our trench well under the dominance of German ground and of the rim
of Crater 5. They were joined by a shallow communication trench, along
which it was only possible to crawl by daylight, and the right-hand
crater was in any case absolutely untenable under artillery fire.
Forty yards away lay the Germans, ready to pounce down on the garrison
at any moment of the day or night. The defences were negligible, and
all attempts to improve them permanently a failure. No man stood
upright without the risk of a bullet through his brain.
[Sidenote: _Night, April 14th, 1916._]
The Germans, on the other hand, had, beside the crater, a well-built
trench made out of one of our own support trenches dug on April 4th.
From this they launched on the night of the 14th four successive
bombing attacks against the garrison. All were repulsed by bombers
under the command of Lieut. Parish, grenade officer of the 25th. From
this point onward the action gradually merged into the ordinary forms
of trench warfare except for the peculiar violence of the artillery.
[Sidenote: _April 16th, 1916._] On the 16th, however, an event of great
importance occurred. The gale died out, and the aeroplanes were able
to soar aloft once more. The veil which had shrouded our operations
was at last lifted, and it was clear that Craters 4 and 5 were in the
hands of the Germans and Craters 6 and 7 in those of the Canadians.
One final effort was made by the enemy to capture the Canadian craters,
but the story of this will be told in the following chapter.
It remains to sum up the action of St. Eloi as a whole.
The 2nd Division was fighting upon historic ground. A few miles to the
north lay the battlefield of Ypres, which the 1st Division had made
famous in the eyes of the world; near by was Hill 60, from which the
13th British Infantry Brigade had come to the support of the Canadians
during the crucial days of April, 1915. At St. Eloi itself, the
Princess Patricia's had, a year before, fought a long but unsuccessful
action. It is therefore impossible to avoid comparisons between the
first and second great actions of the Dominion Army. To do so is to
refuse to accept the obvious. The 1st Division lost ground indeed
under the gas attack and the steady movement forward of massed Prussian
Army Corps. They retreated, but under circumstances which left them
with a great and justified reputation. To the 2nd Division was left
the more bitter task of fighting for a month under leaden skies above
and crumbling mud below, and yet failing to retain their original
positions. But they deserved none the less well of Canada. What
mortal man could do, they did. The Divisional Command was wise; the
Brigadiers thrust their commands forward with unflinching resolution;
the Battalion and Company Commanders were both daring, resolute, and
prudent; the rank and file shouldered their tasks of exhaustion and
danger in a manner well worthy of the best infantry in Europe. It was
not given to the 2nd Division to take a part in one of those glittering
charges which figure so largely in Press reports and so rarely in
actions in the field. Here were no bayonets flashing in the sun, no
shouts of a triumphant infantry, but a long struggle against dirt and
darkness, the terror of the high explosive, and the sharp spitting of
the machine-guns. It is easy to think of war as one triumph reaching
to another, and the historians gloss over easily the failure of their
national arms. This lesson is, perhaps, not inapposite for a nation
already proud in arms but new in history. Wherever in the long
confines of the Dominion there comes in the cool of the evening the
sense of irreparable loss for a treasured life, let it be remembered
that the men who died at St. Eloi died no less nobly than the men who
fell at Ypres. The lesson of failure is as much a part of the
education of a nation as that of success.
[1] The 4th Brigade was commanded by Brig.-General Rennie, who
displayed marked capacity and ability in handling his command. We may
expect for this officer a distinguished future in the Canadian Corps.
CHAPTER VII
ST. ELOI (_conclusion_)
The enemy's final effort to capture Canadian trenches--The Higher
Command decides to hold on--The precise position of affairs--The 5th
Brigade in inferno--Loneliness of the watchers--Carrier pigeons killed
by shell-shock--Crater No. 6 abandoned--The enemy's lack of
imagination--The power of the British Army "to come again"--Troops of
the Allies able to act without support--General Watson on the state of
the craters--The report of Lieut. Vernon--Linking up the craters with
the old British line--Advantageous position of the Huns--Four attempts
to take Canadian craters--The Huns driven back--The assault on Craters
6 and 7--Isolated position of the Canadians--Aeroplanes reveal the true
position--Army Commanders blameless--The importance of dominant
ground--Difficulties of the Higher Command--The enemy begins an intense
bombardment--Many casualties--Permission to surrender--Lieutenant Myers
fires his last round--Five survivors--Sergeant Hostel's narrative--The
failures at St. Eloi--The garrison of the Canadian craters swept out of
existence.
In the meantime the position in the craters became increasingly
difficult as the days went on. So grave indeed was the situation that
the Higher Command was at one time seriously considering the plan of
abandoning them completely so as to give the gunners freer play with
the German positions and attempt to blow them bodily out. This
solution of the problem was ultimately rejected, and the orders were to
hold on at any cost. As brigade relieved brigade this was done in
succession by the 31st, the 19th, 24th, 25th, and 26th--the last-named
regiment being still in Crater 6 on the morning of April 18th.
Before proceeding, however, to the story of the craters it may be as
well to remind the reader, even if a few facts must be repeated, of the
precise position of affairs.
[Sidenote: _Night, April 11th-12th, 1916._]
On the night of April 11th-12th, the 5th Brigade carried out its relief
of the 4th. On the morning of the 13th the position of the various
regiments was as follows:--The 22nd held our trenches on the right, the
25th were in the centre, and the 26th on the left and in the craters.
The 24th were in reserve. Compared with the storm of battle which had
been raging, the times were comparatively quiet, except for the
occupants of the advanced post.
The rise to the knoll of St. Eloi is a gradual one, but the slope of
the ground now gave the Germans the dominating position, and the very
force of the explosion of the mines had confirmed their advantage.
Looking out from Craters 6 and 7 at night the dimly-seen outlines of
Craters 4 and 5 loomed out on the sky-line overshadowing the minor
emplacements, which were in the hands of the Canadians. By day, from a
distance of about 25 yards, it was possible for the enemy to see right
down into the cups of Craters 6 and 7 over the flattened and crumbling
edges, and no man moved there save at the peril of his life. The
daylight bombardments were fierce and intensive, for the Germans had
the range to a nicety with their trench mortars. The evenings were
enlivened by periodical bombing assaults from the higher ground. Under
these conditions the digging of a proper defensive position could not
be carried out, and in this inferno the successive parties of the 5th
Brigade continued for five days. One must picture the garrison looking
out in the darkness on a serrated ridge illumined moment to moment by
the light of star-shells and wondering at what instant the hostile rush
would come. Loneliness is a great feature in war; and loneliness here
was carried to its extreme. The communication with the shattered
defences of the old front-line trenches in the rear was even by night
fitful and uncertain. By day all touch over the intervening ground of
40 yards was hopeless, except now and again for a daring runner who
took his life in his hand's and usually lost it. [Sidenote: _April
15th, 1916._] The carrier pigeons were killed by shell-shock;[1] the
supply of food, water and ammunition was precarious. Many units of the
garrison went without any sleep, except the doze of sheer exhaustion,
for three or four nights on end--for to sleep soundly might mean to
wake to instant death. The ground underfoot was a morass and the sky
above charged with falling shell. So terrific was the bombardment that
on one occasion Crater 6 had to be abandoned chiefly owing to the
annihilation of its defenders.
Under these adverse circumstances the successive regiments of the 5th
Brigade held their ground with the customary tenacity of Canadian
infantry. The Germans with all their military virtues suffer from one
defect of imagination. They can never believe that small bodies of
men, unsupported and beyond the control of the Higher Command, will
hold on to untenable positions, or will remain fighting units long
after they have been beaten by all the rules of war. This error
accounts for the failure to pursue after the battle of Le Cateau, and
the disregard of the power of the British Army to "come again," which
led to the fatal wheel of von Kluck; it also accounts for the German
neglect to push their undoubted advantage at various stages of the
first and second battles of Ypres. They could not believe that men
would resist so boldly who had nothing in reserve.
On a lesser scale the position in the craters and behind them was the
same as in these historic combats. The reconstruction of the front or
old British line by the 5th Brigade was only beginning; the second line
was not in a satisfactory state; the difficulty of bringing up more
troops into the advance positions was almost insuperable. The Germans
had a chance, had they known it, of pushing through, but the 5th
Brigade held the fort until the opportunity had long passed away.
The great concentration of reserves, the massed attack delivered
shoulder to shoulder with unflinching courage in the face of a
devastating fire, is familiar to the Teutonic mind, which yet seems
unable to realise that the democracy of Great Britain, France and
Canada can produce men who can do their military duty without the
support of carefully-arranged reserves.
As to the state of the craters and the line it may be better to call
independent witnesses.
[Sidenote: _April 12th, 1916._]
General Watson had made a tour of the whole position on the morning of
the 12th and reported that the 21st Battalion were quite wrong in
thinking that in the attack of the 9th-10th they had got anywhere near
Crater 2. They were, in fact, never nearer than 70 yards to it. This
statement is confirmed by all the evidence, though no doubt the
attackers were, in the dark and confusion, unable to ascertain where
they were. The General also reported that the first line, that is, the
old British line of trenches, was in a very battered state for defence.
He regarded the construction work on Crater 1, described in the last
chapter, as excellent, and this must go to the credit of the 4th
Brigade and the 21st and 24th Battalions.
[Sidenote: _April 12th, 1916._]
On April 12th Lieut. Vernon, of the Intelligence Department, was sent
down by the Corps Commander to investigate the situation. He failed to
penetrate the error between Craters 4 and 5 and 6 and 7, like everyone
else, but his account of the craters is of great interest in view of
what followed.
"CRATER No. 7.--This is in our hands, and is a shallow crater about
forty yards across; the rims are flat and not high and do not dominate
the enemy's new line as to elevation. This crater has no protection
from enemy's fire except on the front side (inside), no trenches or
parados exist on the rear (north) side, and this side is not occupied
by our troops, as it is constantly exposed to rifle and machine-gun
fire.
"The communication trench leading to this crater from the north-east is
now being improved (fifty men, engineers, working during night), but as
yet affords only limited protection; its route includes old mine
craters and shell-holes.
"CRATER No. 6.--This is in our hands, and is approached through Crater
No. 7 by a ruined shell-wrecked trench along which one has to crawl on
hands and knees, and it is constantly sniped at and constantly under
observation by enemy flares.
"The crater itself is deep, about forty yards across, and affords much
better protection than No. 7. Its rims are higher, but the Germans so
dominate it from their trench in front that our garrison has to keep
their heads down; the rims are constantly swept by rifle and
machine-gun fire. It is built up with some works on the inside facing
the enemy, and garrisoned by an officer, men, and machine-gun."
In the light of these facts it was decided to make various arrangements
for the improvement of the defence--particularly for the linking-up of
the craters with the old British line by a communication trench. It
proved impracticable, however, to carry out the whole of the scheme,
though 3,000 men were turned on to the various works.
The Germans were in a comparatively enviable position. The lie of the
ground was with them and the protection afforded by their own craters
adequate. Their knowledge of the precise state of affairs was also
more accurate, and in consequence they were better served by their
gunners. They possessed in addition the support trenches dug by the
2nd Division on the nights of April 3rd/4th and 5th/6th. They could
use the trenches north of the craters as the basis of their own new
front line, and the ones south as retiring points whenever our
artillery fire became unbearable. None the less, according to the
accounts of prisoners, they suffered severely, and the artillery
barrage made it impossible for them to bring up strong supports. This
did not prevent them taking the offensive as soon as our own
counter-attacks had ceased.
[Sidenote: _Morning, April 14th, 1916._]
On the morning of the 14th, as has been related, they four times
attempted to take the Canadian Craters 6 and 7 by bombing assaults, but
the 25th Battalion repulsed them every time. Simultaneously an attempt
was made to oust the garrison of Crater 1. The enemy to the number of
25 charged boldly across the open in broad daylight. This position
had, however, as related in the previous chapter, been considerably
strengthened, and Lieut. Parish, the grenade officer of the 25th
Battalion, who took over the command on April 13th, had extended the
outpost line towards Crater 2, and drove back the assailants without
much difficulty, but with considerable loss to them. In fact, our
position in Crater 1 can never be said to have been seriously
threatened, for the ground gave the Germans no special advantage.
At dawn on the 15th, the bombing assault on the Craters 6 and 7 began
again, this time preluded by a hellish bombardment of trench mortars
and heavy guns. Communication with the main position was absolutely
broken, and runner after runner failed to get through. Man after man
was killed, wounded, or driven back in the attempt. The 25th, however,
maintained their position until they were relieved by parties of the
24th on the following day, when Lieut. Lamb took over Crater 7 and
Capt. Sutherland Crater 6. [Sidenote: _10.45, Night, April 15th,
1916._] At 10.45 p.m. the newcomers had to repulse a strong bombing
attack by the enemy. Like others of the very gallant men who held the
advance posts, they seem to have been of opinion that their retention
served no useful purpose and was in fact impracticable, except at the
cost of a continuous drain of human life. They speak of the isolation
of the position, of the dominating outlook of the enemy, and of
watching that enemy improving his defences without any interference
from our guns while they themselves were subjected to an almost
continuous fire. [Sidenote: _April 16th, 1916._] All this is no doubt
true--but it must be remembered that on this day (the 16th) the
aeroplanes for the first time were able to soar into the heavens, and
look down on the real position of the earth. Up to this date, then,
the Higher Command were informed that we were holding essential
positions right in the heart of the enemy's line, and that every shell
fired by our guns would be a positive danger to the Canadian garrison.
It was only as the weather grew calm that the true facts of the case
emerged. In any case, the Higher Command of the 2nd Division had no
cause to blame itself. General Turner's information from below had
been incorrect; in spite of this lack of knowledge his instinct for a
practical situation, innate in all real soldiers, had shown itself on
every occasion. But the further we get from the front the more
difficult it is to arrive at truth, and the Corps and Army Commanders
are hardly to be blamed if they were wrongly informed as to facts when
Company and Battalion Commanders in the firing line were, with the
utmost sincerity, reporting that they occupied points which, as a
matter of fact, were never in their possession. The slope of the
ground, as at Hooge and Zillebeke, dominated the position; as soon as
the Germans held the mound and rise of St. Eloi their advantage of
sight was such that the free movements of troops was impossible.
Intelligence could not be obtained, and the co-ordination of the
various units became a matter of practical impossibility. On the other
side of the ridge the Germans, screened from any accurate artillery
observation on their immediate front, were able to move with
comparative impunity. The only answer was a counter-attack on a far
more extended area.
It is one of the fallacies of people who talk about modern warfare to
say that ground is nothing. A good trench, forty or fifty yards' fire
zone, and sound wire in front will no doubt protect resolute infantry
against a frontal attack. But the whole movement and massing of troops
for such an attack, the supply of provisions, ammunition and reliefs,
the ordinary workaday business which makes the existence of an army
possible, can hardly be carried out in the face of an enemy who can
watch every move on the board, while the Higher Command can see
practically nothing of what is happening on the other side of the hill.
It may be possible for troops to carry on under these conditions, but
it is neither usual nor expedient.
[Sidenote: _Noon, April 17th, 1916._]
At noon on April 17th, the 24th Battalion was relieved by the 26th;
they had been twenty-four hours in the advance post, the ordinary time
for anyone occupying a position of great stress and danger. The
frequency of the relief speaks more eloquently than words of the strain
to which the various garrisons had been subjected. [Sidenote: _Night,
April 17th, 1916._] The 26th were in their turn relieved by the 29th
Battalion of the 6th Brigade on the night of April 18th/19th. These
latter troops had suffered severely during the original fighting at St.
Eloi; but as the other brigades had done their turn in the trenches it
was imperative that the 6th Brigade should relieve them.
[Sidenote: _April 19th, 1916._]
The next day the end came suddenly and the defence collapsed. Lieut.
Myers, of the 29th Battalion, with forty men was in occupation of the
left-hand Crater 6, and Lieut. Biggs, of the same regiment, held Crater
7 on the right. During the morning all was quiet, but shortly after
two o'clock the enemy started an intense bombardment, which made the
craters practically untenable. Very few men remained alive or
unwounded after three hours. The shelling on the right-hand crater was
particularly severe, and some of the survivors got along the shallow
communication trench into Crater 6. They discovered, however, that
their comrades were in no better case than themselves. The men were
buried over and over again, and the rifles, in spite of their breech
covers, finally refused to work. When all resistance had been
annihilated some forty or fifty Germans started to come across. As far
as can be ascertained, Lieut. Biggs appears to have given permission to
his few remaining and weaponless men to surrender. Lieut. Myers, who
exhibited a most indomitable spirit, resisted to the last, firing one
round from a discarded rifle and blazing off his own revolver at the
advancing enemy. These were the only shots left in the hands of the
defence. Finally, although already wounded, he suggested to the
remains of his command that they should endeavour to retire across the
fire-swept open country rather than fall into German hands. Five men,
two of them wounded, made this desperate attempt, "and as the
remainder," says Lieut. Myers, "seemed disinclined to take the risk, I
gave them my sanction to surrender, as the Germans were then almost
across to the crater." Of the five men and the officer, three were
wounded before they started, and only one came in untouched; none the
less, they succeeded in making good their escape. Of these, one was
Private Harding, who had come in from Crater 7, after having his own
brother and three other men killed by his side. They were the only
survivors of the garrison--the remainder being all killed or taken
prisoners. It is, as a matter of fact, very difficult to conceive and
quite impossible to describe exactly what the defenders of the craters
had been through, and it is wonderful that the men who escaped retained
their sanity. Sergt. H. Bostel, of the 29th, has, however, left such a
clear and convincing record of his experience that I prefer to use his
own words rather than to give it at second-hand.
"I was one of a party of 40 men under Lieut. Myers, 29th Battalion, and
went forward to occupy Crater 6 left at about 12 midnight April 18th.
We posted our sentries as soon as we got in and relieved a party of the
29th Battalion under Lieut. Ross. During the morning everything was
quiet until about 2 p.m. when the enemy light artillery--whizzbangs,
and possibly minenwerfers were firing on Crater 6 left, the one which
we were in. This continued for about three-quarters of an hour, during
which time we had no casualties whatever, There was no shelling for
about one-quarter of an hour, and then they opened up with heavy
shells, which fell just on the right front of the crater, and
afterwards got direct hits on the centre of the crater, and in my
section I had two killed and four wounded. [Sidenote: _3:30 P.M.,
April 19th, 1916._] This was about 3.30 p.m. The heavy shelling
continued for about half an hour, but there were no casualties, as my
section took what cover there was. During the bombardment, Mr. Myers
was badly wounded. He, however, gave orders that immediately the
bombardment ceased all men were to 'man' the parapet. The bombardment
ceased about 4.30 p.m. We then finished dressing the wounded. Sergt.
Slaughter went around detailing men to posts and duties. I remained
with my section of nine men. [Sidenote: _5:15 P.M., April 19th,
1916._] It must have been about 5.15 p.m. when they opened up again,
as I remember Sergt. Slaughter inquiring for me about 4.55 p.m. 'what
time it was, and if the rifles Were clean and ready?' I might have
mentioned that during the bombardment, Mr. Myers tried to get a message
through by pigeon, but they were killed by this bombardment. The
artillery then opened an intense bombardment which was terrific. Our
wounded were killed in this bombardment, being blown to pieces, and
many men were buried in their dug-outs. It was impossible for the
remainder to render assistance, although several attempts were made.
It was raining, and water was flowing from the right crater to the
left, and it was practically impossible to move, as the ground within
the crater was like porridge except in a few places. During this
bombardment we had many casualties. I saw personally eight men knocked
out by one large shell. We half expected that an attack would follow
after this, and got as many rifles posted as possible. It was noticed
shortly after this that the Germans opened up rifle fire from the
trenches along the crater. At the same time the bombardment was
continued. The fire of the German heavies now seemed to be
concentrated on our next crater. Some men came across from the right
crater into the left crater. Sergt. Platt told me that the order had
been passed along saying that we were to close into the left crater, as
there appeared to be less shelling in it. The German rifle fire
continued, and we expected that at every moment they would come across.
I discussed the question with Sergt. Slaughter of sending back a
message, to warn our rear lines, but he said it was hopeless for any
man to try to get through that fire in time to be of any assistance,
and it was thought that it would be impossible to bring reinforcements
up to us in any case. Mr. Myers came out of his dug-out with his
wounds bandaged up and shouted out 'Come on, boys; we will make a fight
for it.' We all came out of our shelters. I had been buried no less
than four times and the shells were splashing mud all over the place.
We covered our rifles with sandbags, but it was impossible to keep them
in working order, owing to the terrible state of the ground. Sergt.
Slaughter left me and went to his own platoon. I calculate that we had
fifteen to twenty men left. By this time there were fifty or sixty
Germans coming across. I should say there were three rifles actually
capable of firing, and these opened up. Mr. Myers used his revolver
and then seized a rifle, but was only able to fire one round out of it.
I then said to Mr. Myers: 'Are we going to make a fight for it?' and he
said 'Yes, boys.' It appeared to us that in the other crater the
Germans had got up to the remaining garrison and had overpowered them,
as I distinctly saw one or two men put up their hands. They were
standing thigh deep in mud, and it seemed absolutely hopeless for them
to do anything else but surrender. I saw Mr. Biggs and three or four
of his men on the enemy's side of the crater. All this time I might
mention that the enemy had a machine-gun playing right across the
craters and his artillery fire was extremely accurate on our side of
the craters where Mr. Myers and our party were. Shortly after this we
decided to retire, as we had no means of putting up any resistance, and
rather than be taken prisoners decided to get back and give information
and ask for a counter-attack. We then started out with a party of
three. Mr. Myers was wounded and had to be assisted, also Private
McDonald, who was wounded in the back and neck, and a machine-gun man,
I think named Whelan, who was wounded in the face, joined us shortly
after we left, and later on one of the pigeon men overtook us. I do
not know where he came from. The remainder of our small party in the
craters must have been killed or taken prisoners. It was about 11 p.m.
when we got back to Voormezeele, where we left the wounded."
[Sidenote: _April 20th, 1916._]
The craters were thus lost. The view that they were untenable was
obviously shared by the Germans, who made no attempt to occupy them
except by way of roving patrols. On the morning of the 20th Major
Tait, of the 29th, and a small party made a bold and complete
reconnaissance of Crater 6, which he found quite deserted. "The crater
lips have been so knocked about that there is no sign of any edge, and
the whole is a mass of slimy mud full of dead bodies." On the same
evening Lieut. Jackson, of the 29th, took a patrol over the abandoned
ground and found it clear except for a party of five Germans who made
off as soon as they were seen. The opinion of the regimental officers
on the spot was, however, conclusive against re-entering a position
from which they had literally been blown out, and their view was
accepted by the Higher Command, whose aeroplane information enabled
them to tell that the main crater line had been lost on April 6th, and
that the retention of the small craters was merely an embarrassment to
our own gunners. The position in Crater 1, maintained throughout the
fighting of the 19th, remained definitely in our hands.
The story of the craters is like that of most of the battle of St.
Eloi, one of misfortune for the 2nd Division; but it is not one of
blame. The successive regiments who held the outposts were from the
very outset at a great disadvantage compared with their enemies. They
were not, and could not be, properly supported by their own gunners
while the enemy's artillery was pounding them to pieces.
They endured the horrors of this experience with fortitude, and
repelled the earlier assaults with success. But their defences were
like a child's castle on the sand, as wave after wave creeps up the
shore on an incoming tide. The outlines became blurred and faded under
the remorseless gunfire, until the final wave quietly and calmly swept
the 29th out of existence. Of a garrison of eighty men one returned
unwounded.
[1] The last message dating the 15th.
CHAPTER VIII
THE BATTLE OF SANCTUARY WOOD
Moving northwards--The immortal field of Ypres--The greatest of all
Canadian battlefields--Description of the ground--Who holds the rim
holds the saucer--Advantageous position of the enemy--Sanctuary
Wood--Observatory Ridge--The unpleasantness of life and the prevalence
of death--Situation of the Canadians--Fortified posts--The German
attack begins--The artillery preparation--Jack Johnsons--Whole areas
destroyed--A tornado of iron and steel--Canadian trenches swept out of
existence--The thunder of high explosives--German guns on the second
line--The capture of General Williams--Tragic death of General
Mercer--The 4th Canadian Mounted Rifles swallowed up--Heavy
casualties--A gallant advance--Machine-guns on Hill 60--Lieuts. Key and
Evans make a brave stand--The Princess Pats in the firing line--The
exploits of Captain Niven--The gallant-hearted gentleman--A
mix-up--Between two fires--Game until the last--Major Critchley--Rescue
of men buried alive--Lieut. Glascoe--Canadian guns spotted by the
enemy--Attacks repulsed by the Royal Canadians--Plucky deed of Corporal
Hood--Loss of sacrifice guns--Lieut. Cotton killed--Faithful unto
death--A critical position--The colours of Princess Pats returned to
Headquarters--Second Canadian Mounted Rifles move under heavy fire--The
enemy loses an opportunity--Energetic action of General Macdonell--The
Seventh Brigade in peril--Timely support of the Royal Canadian
Regiment--General Butler sends relief--The Fifth Canadian Mounted
Rifles hard pressed--Daring reconnaissance of Sergeant Jones--Fifth
Canadian Mounted Rifles save the Salient--Heavy losses of the Eighth
Brigade--Help at hand.
The fighting since March had, like the Canadians, been moving steadily
northward, from the trench raiding opposite Messines and Wytschaete,
through the battle of St. Eloi in April, to the successive actions at
Sanctuary Wood and Hooge which I am about to record. These actions,
which were in scale if not in intensity the greatest of all the
Canadian battles, took place but a few miles away from that field of
Ypres which the First Division had rendered immortal. The dead who lie
in their graves round Langemark and St. Julien might well have stirred
in their sleep at the thunder of the Canadian guns. Many men now quick
and vigorous were to join them in their last rest, falling in the same
spot for the same cause.
In fact, the first action was fought north-east of Ypres, while the
present struggle took place south-east and much nearer to it. Anyone
who had stood before the war on some high tower within the circle of
the vast mediæval ramparts of earth, which have defied even modern
artillery, and of the ancient grey walls which still look out across
the calm waters of the broad moat and through the poplars which fringe
it, would have obtained an excellent view of all save the outer edges
of the field of battle. The Menin Road drives out over the flats for a
mile, and then for another mile up the gentle slope to the ridge
crowned by the ruins of Hooge. This road marks the left and northern
boundary of the fighting with the exception of the bombing posts
running down to Bellewaarde Beek. This ridge, with one main gap and
many irregularities, curves round south-west and runs continuously to
Mount Sorrel, where the fighting stops on the south. It represents, as
it were, the rim of a saucer of which Ypres is in the central
depression: and in war who holds the rim holds the saucer.
Standing on such a position and casting his eye along the ridge from
Hooge, the observer sees across a mile or so of green water-meadows
striped with the dark lines of high, luxuriant hedges, the northern
part covered only by a few isolated and shattered trees, until he comes
to Zouave Wood, which runs up into the first and greatest of the gaps.
This gap isolates Hooge from the system, and through it the Germans can
see right down on to the British trenches in the plain. Farther south
the nearer slopes are covered with the great expanse of Sanctuary Wood,
once so thick as to be almost impenetrable to the Guards in October,
1914, but now sadly thinned by gun-fire, and crowned by the slight
eminences known as Hills 62 and 61.[1] Beyond these comes Mount
Sorrel, and the sector of the action is complete; for here the British
line breaks suddenly back to the west and to the railway. But between
Sanctuary Wood and Mount Sorrel there is a curious feature--Observatory
Ridge--a long tongue of higher ground, bare and barren, runs right back
due west into the British positions towards Zillebeke village and lake.
[Sidenote: _June 1st, 1916._]
Such was the position occupied by the Third Canadian Division on June
1st, 1916, as seen from the rear--a pleasant prospect if it were not
for the signs of devastation, the white-scarred, headless trees, the
upcast earth and the growl of the guns which in the salient seem to
come from every point on the horizon. Viewed by the Germans from the
east, it did not look quite so strong, for they too held high ground
dominating slightly in many places the line held by the Canadians.
None the less it is a strong defensive position, and Lord Ernest
Hamilton in "The First Seven Divisions" maintains with great show of
reason that it was always the natural place from which to protect the
town.
High ground may not possess to-day all the importance it had in the
warfare of past ages, but the men on the hill still have one great
advantage over the men in the hollow: they can see and their enemy is
blind. Every trench and every movement of troops can be seen, and
artillery fire can be directed and observed with complete accuracy
without relying on aeroplanes and balloons, which are imperfect
substitutes for direct observation and which bad weather may put out of
commission. Furthermore, the life of the infantry in the plain becomes
intolerable when every head is liable to show and become the target for
immediate fire. Life is too unpleasant and death too prevalent. The
Canadian Corps, then, had to hold the plateau at all costs.
This description of the ground may make it easier to understand the
positions occupied by the 3rd Division and the 1st Division on its
right--for the 2nd Division was still far away on its old ground at St.
Eloi, farther to the south, and was not called up to help till a later
stage of the action.
The left of the line was held by the 7th Brigade under
Brigadier-General A. C. Macdonell, and the right by the 8th Brigade
under Brigadier-General Victor Williams. Two companies of the Royal
Canadian Regiment, commanded by Lieut.-Colonel C. H. Hill, were firmly
astride the Menin Road towards the farther side of the ruins of Hooge
village. Their left sloped down through a series of bombing posts to
Bellewaarde Beek, where they linked with the 60th British Brigade.
Their right extended to the gap, where they were in touch with the
Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry. The trenches here had
been partially demolished, and an attempt was being made to repair them
at the time of the attack. Next to the right came the Princess
Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry, under Lieut.-Colonel Buller. They
had two companies in the front line, the left-hand one on the slight
rise on the northern boundary of Sanctuary Wood, the right-hand one in
another gap or dip, so that the regiment had a depression on either
side of its position. In the southern section of Sanctuary Wood they
met the line of the 1st Canadian Mounted Rifles of the 8th Brigade
under Lieut.-Colonel Shaw.[2]
This last battalion held Hills 62 and 61 with three companies in the
firing line and one just behind, but its junction with the Princess
Patricia's was slightly broken at the dip. Next on the right came the
4th Canadian Mounted Rifles Battalion under Colonel Ussher, with three
companies in the firing line holding Mount Sorrel. Two platoons were
just in rear in the support trenches and in the communication trench
leading to Headquarters. Here the 8th Brigade ended and the 2nd
Brigade of the 1st Division took on the line.
Behind this front line there was a support line on the left of the
position. From the Menin Road the strong and excellent support line
trenches drive south-east. This line was held by the support company
of the Royal Canadian Regiment and the support company of the Princess
Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry, each backing their respective
regiments in the front trenches. At a point north-east of Maple Copse
and in the middle of Sanctuary Wood this well-marked support line
ceased and broke into two separate systems of trenches. In the first
place a series of communication trenches broke back sharply to Maple
Copse and the south-west, making an acute angle, or Apex, facing the
Germans. From this Apex the support line continued, though not at all
points in a fully completed condition, close behind our front-line
trenches on Hill 62 and Mount Sorrel.[3] Behind these again was a
series of Fortified Posts covering, in a somewhat irregular pattern,
the ground between Zouave Wood and the southern slopes of Observatory
Ridge. This in effect completed the system of front line and support
defence. Further back, a second line nearer Ypres, known, as the
G.H.Q. trenches, represented the last barrier. It will be observed
that there was no trench between Maple Copse and Square Wood.
The Fortified Posts on the north were held by the support battalion,
the 5th Canadian Mounted Rifles, under Lieut.-Colonel Baker, and on the
south were in possession of the spare platoons of the 4th Canadian
Mounted Rifles and were in rear of their lines. One fort, however, was
in the hands of the Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry. Maple
Copse was occupied by a company and a half of the 5th Canadian Mounted
Rifles, and the remainder of the latter were back in reserve. With
them were the 42nd Battalion (Royal Highlanders of Canada) under
Lieut.-Colonel Cantlie in support of the 7th Brigade, and also the
remaining company of the Royal Canadian Regiment. A glance at the map
will make the positions of the various units and the general scheme of
defence clear, and tiring as such a recapitulation of companies and
regiments may be, it is necessary if the story is to be in the least
intelligible. The 49th (Edmonton Regiment), under Lieut.-Colonel
Griesbach, was the reserve battalion of the 7th Brigade, and the 2nd
Canadian Mounted Rifles of the 8th. The 9th Brigade was in Divisional
Reserve.
[Illustration: Map--Sanctuary Wood area. POSITION BEFORE ATTACK ON
JUNE 2ND 1916]
Such were the dispositions of the corps, now under Gen. Sir Julian
Byng, who had on May 28th succeeded Gen. Alderson, when the storm
finally broke.[4] There had been warnings already. The enemy had been
driving "T" saps[5] out in front of their lines and linking them up so
as to form a new trench in advance of the old one. Lieut.-Colonel
Odlum, of the 7th (British Columbia) Battalion, launched a daring plan
of counter construction at one place against the works and definitely
checked their progress. The shelling of the last few days before the
attack had been peculiarly heavy, and it is probable that the Higher
Command had other information of impending mischief. It was
undoubtedly this fact which induced Major-General Mercer and
Brigadier-General Williams to make their tour of the trenches on that
fateful early morning of June. [Sidenote: _June 2nd, early morning._]
They left at six in the morning and reached the Battalion Headquarters
of the 4th Canadian Mounted Rifles before eight o'clock. General
Mercer was accompanied by his A.D.C., Lieut. Gooderham, and General
Williams by Capt. Fraser, the Brigade Orderly Officer. Colonel Ussher
conducted them up the communication trench at about a quarter past
eight, and the party had either reached the front trench or was about
to enter it when with a sudden crash the enemy's guns opened.
The 3rd Division was now to experience in its full fury the artillery
preparation of the summer of 1916. All that had gone before was as
nothing to this. The bombardment of 1915 had been feeble in
comparison, and those of 1914 a mere sun-shower as compared to tropical
rain. The soldiers of the 1st Division when they landed in France had,
with their native humour, come to laugh at the Jack Johnsons from the
11-inch howitzers, though these were formidable to an army which then
had no guns of an equal range. But a preparation in the modern style
leaves very few remaining to laugh. The 2nd Division had a taste of
the new shelling at St. Eloi and its dangers had been intensified by a
bad position and wretched trenches. But even so, all agreed that there
was no comparison between the gun-fire of April and of June, which was
the heaviest endured by British troops up to that time. The Germans
were directing their efforts against a strong position and sound
trenches, yet they swept both out of existence as the autumn wheat is
mowed down by the reaper. It was not merely a line they destroyed, but
a whole area.
[Sidenote: _June 2nd, 8.30 A.M.-1.15 P.M._]
Indeed, the storm which burst on the 3rd Division at 8.30 that June
morning was like a tropical tornado which presses men flat to the
ground and suffocates them with the mere force of the wind, which
uproots forests and hurls them headlong, obliterates all ancient
landmarks and the houses and shelters of men and beasts, and leaves
behind nothing but a tangled desolation from which a few survivors
creep out scarcely sane enough to realise the catastrophe or to attempt
to repair the damage. But here the blinding crashes overhead were not
those of thunder and lightning, but of high explosive. The fragments
which drove through the air were not bits of wood or masses of
vegetation. They were steel and iron fragments which pierced the
flesh, as the shock of the explosion stopped the heart and threw
cascades of earth over bodies in which life still beat feebly or in
which it was already extinct. The solid trenches melted away, and
mounds and craters appeared where none existed before. A litter of
broken wood, burst sandbags, and human remains cumbered the earth where
it was not merciful enough to bury them. And this tornado of man was
let loose on a few acres which contained, perhaps, two or three
thousand troops, and continued for the space of about four hours.
At the end, although the awful noise goes on, the shower of steel
ceases. The guns have lifted to the second line. Here and there
groups of survivors creep out, wild-eyed or stupefied, like men just
risen from the tomb, to see the solid lines of the enemy advancing at a
walk or a jog-trot. Every man acts according to his instinct. A few
lie where they are and chance being taken prisoners. Some make a rush
and crawl for the ruined communication trenches and face the barrage
once more in the hope of rejoining their comrades. Another group
resists desperately, grasping what rude and broken weapons remain to
it, and dies in a hopeless struggle. Such in effect is the story of
the front and support line companies of the 1st and 4th Canadian
Mounted Rifles and the right-hand company of the Princess Patricia's
between 8.30 and 1.15 of June 2nd, as their casualties will prove.
That story must, however, be told in greater detail; but isolated facts
cannot be understood without their environment.
The Generals and their Staffs were caught by the outbreak of this
Inferno. It is idle to go into the question as to exactly how, when,
and where the Divisional General died. There are many ways into such a
controversy and no way out. All that is certain is that one of the
first shells burst close to the Staff, wounding Brigadier-General
Williams[6] and stunning Major-General Mercer. None the less, shortly
afterwards General Mercer sent back a message, the last to come through
from Mount Sorrel, asking for the howitzers to be turned on. After
that he tried to get back to his post behind the lines and failed.
Some say he remained with the 4th Canadian Mounted Rifles Battalion for
a time and was seen moving up and down. Soon, at any rate, he was seen
no more by living men. He must have made another attempt to get back
to his post and been killed on the way. His body was found with three
wounds on it in Armagh Wood. He was buried at Poperinghe. There lie
the mortal remains of Lieut.-Colonel Hart-McHarg and Lieut.-Colonel
Birchall, who served under him in the 4th Battalion of the 1st Brigade
of the 1st Division. It is tragic to think that such a brilliant
soldier, who had risen to the command of a division by sheer force of
ability, should have died just as his new command was going into its
first big action and needed his services so greatly.
The trenches of the 4th Canadian Mounted Rifles and their garrisons
thus vanished, and nothing more was heard of them save for the stories
of small isolated parties which escaped. The last trench on the right
and round the western bend of the salient escaped a little more
lightly. The garrison held on till night fell, and then the survivors,
finding the Germans coming up behind them in Armagh Wood, made good
their escape to the lines of the 2nd Brigade on their right. Colonel
Ussher collected some of the support company in a roofed-in trench,
hoping to keep them under cover there until the German attack. Almost
immediately heavy shells blocked both ends of the tunnel and many were
stifled before the party could break out of this living grave. This
was the last attempt at any organised resistance. Major Dennison
fought a rearguard action at point-blank range with the advancing
Germans, and eventually got back into the second line with five men.
Meanwhile, the shelling on the support line had been almost equally
intense. The Fortified Posts held by the 4th Canadian Mounted Rifles
were blown to pieces and the platoons in them. One garrison perished
and of the second garrison three men got away. In all some thirty or
forty men of the 4th Canadian Mounted Rifles got away and were rallied
behind the support line. Their casualties were 637; the regiment had
simply ceased to exist.[7]
On their left the 1st Canadian Mounted Rifles Battalion had fared
little better. All through the morning, their advance and support
trenches being flattened out section by section, the survivors rallied
in isolated groups wherever cover was left. In face of the attack
these retired, some on the trenches in the Apex, and some on the
Battalion Headquarters, where Colonel Shaw and the support company were
preparing to put up a vigorous resistance. The casualties of the front
companies speak for themselves. Of one company fifteen came out alive,
of the second company fifteen, of the third twenty-three.
[Sidenote: _June 2nd, 1.15 P.M._]
The German assault was delivered just after one o'clock, when their
guns lifted from the front trenches and was preluded by the blowing up
of mines, which were, however, outside our trenches and had no effect
on the ultimate issue. The attack was launched from the south-west,
for it was plainly visible to our men in the trenches by Hill 60. The
watchers saw in the clear air four successive lines of grey-clad
figures carrying packs and greatcoats advancing in the distance with
the assurance of those who neither dread nor expect resistance; behind
came the engineers with the material to make good the position. An
indignant rapping from the machine-guns on Hill 60 greeted them; but
the tide flowed on, unheeding. The lines reached Mount Sorrel and
disappeared. The enemy, by attacking the corner of the line, advanced
in effect "en échelon"--that is to say, their left flank reached Mount
Sorrel and cleared it somewhat before their centre attacked the 1st
Canadian Mounted Rifles. The result was that Colonel Shaw in his
redoubt found his right flank exposed and was the object of a
concentric attack. None the less, the garrison put up a heroic fight
against machine-guns, rifle-fire, and grenades. Colonel Shaw fell, and
with him Major Palmer and his Adjutant, Lieutenant Rowles. Finally,
when all the officers but two and most of the N.C.O.'s were killed or
wounded, and the position was in danger of being surrounded, Lieuts.
Key and Evans led the fifteen survivors back into a Fortified Post just
in front of the Apex, where they collected some stragglers from other
units and held on until relieved the following day. This dogged
defence was of the utmost value, for the second line at this point was
desperately weak and quite unable to resist a resolute assault.[8] Of
the support company and Battalion Headquarters about seventy-one men
survived. The total casualties of the regiment were 367. It was now
the turn of the Princess Patricia's to withstand the assault, which
came upon them at about 1.30 p.m.
[Sidenote: _June 2nd, 1.30 P.M._]
Regiments which possess some special name as opposed to ordinary
battalions, which are designated by numbers, and which are therefore
picked out by over-zealous correspondents for particular praise for
their share of work which all have done equally, are not always
popular. This is certainly the case in the Imperial service; and yet
no Line regiment would grudge the Guards their reputation, for what
they have won in praise they have earned, and they have worn their
laurels with a studious modesty.
The Princess Patricia's had two companies in the firing line, one in
the communication trench leading up to it past Battalion Headquarters
with a tail in the support line, and a fourth entirely in the support
line trenches. The right-hand company in the firing line was, like the
Canadian Mounted Rifle Regiments, blown out of its trenches, and the
survivors took ground in communication trenches held by the support
company. At 1.30 p.m. the German wave lapped round the left of all
except the front-line company commanded by Captain Niven, which turned
about and volleyed into the Germans' right rear.
This company kept its position in the front line and maintained it for
eighteen hours after the bombardment began, although the enemy
attempted to penetrate the gap on the left and had seized the dip to
the right of the trenches on the rise which they held. Capt. Niven had
with one hand to fend off attempts to bomb his men at right and left
down the trench, and with the other to turn and enfilade with excellent
result the Germans who were pressing in on either flank. Yet he, who
was in command, is chiefly anxious to explain in his report that this
was the result of a pure accident, as the enemy had over-ranged his
trench and the heavies and trench mortars were bursting twenty yards
behind, save for the right platoon, which mustered only three
survivors. The enemy then attacked the Princess Patricia's Canadian
Light Infantry companies in the communication trenches and began to
bomb his way to the support line and the Apex line, which possessed at
that time scarcely any defenders. Colonel Buller rallied the support
platoons in the communication trench and pushed them up to a
counter-attack to save the support line. Not satisfied with the rate
of their progress through the shattered trench, he climbed outside to
urge them on, and was killed instantly.[9] He possessed one of those
fearless and impetuous natures which made him the fitting commander of
a famous regiment and brought him the soldier's death he would have
desired.
[Sidenote: _June 2nd, 2 P.M._]
There followed a dark and bloody _mêlée_ between the Germans and the
Canadians in the communication trenches, the former trying to press on
and rush the support line and the latter trying to build blocks down
the communication trenches to stave them off until that line could be
fully manned. At one time the Princess Patricia's in the communication
trench, though attacked across the open simultaneously on both sides,
resisted the enemy, thus emulating the traditions of the famous British
regiment which, when attacked from behind, simply turned its rear rank
about and fired in both directions.[10]
Major Critchley, Staff Captain of the 7th Infantry Brigade, going up
after we had retaken the communication trenches, said that he found the
bodies of the Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry lying in
succession behind six blocks in the trench, showing that in their
retirement they had held each block until a new one was built. In
effect, the garrison of each block had perished while the new one
behind was being built. The losses were, of course, very severe, but
in the meantime the reserve company of the regiment had come up into
the support line behind, and the vital position was saved; for if the
support line had gone, the whole of the Ypres salient would at that
hour in the day have gone with it, as the subsequent argument will
show. Colonel Buller and his men held the fort at the critical hour,
and gave Brigadier-General Macdonell time to bring up his reserves.[11]
In the meantime, Captain Niven, some hundred yards to the north-west,
was still clinging to the knoll of trenches in the front line amid an
encircling tide of Germans. As has been already stated, his right-hand
platoon had been destroyed by the bombardment and Lieut. Hagerty, its
commander, killed. Lieut. Molson then took charge, and with great
gallantry dug out some of the men buried alive, although the trench was
ranged to a nicety. He was shot through the jaw, and the section was
abandoned in the end. Lieut. Triggs, in the nearest sector, was
severely wounded soon afterwards, and Lieut. Irwin, the only remaining
subaltern, was hit later on in the day. Captain Niven, though hit
himself, continued to command and move about, as he was by this time
the only remaining officer of his company. The telephone dug-out was
smashed in and all communication with the battalion lost. None the
less, two heroic runners managed to get through and to report that the
company were still holding out. Some of the worst cases of wounded
were even carried back by the stretcher-bearers under an appalling fire
to the support line. [Sidenote: _June 2nd, 9 P.M._] At dusk Lieut.
Glascoe was sent up from Battalion Headquarters, and Captain Niven
handed over his command and attempted to go back and report to
Battalion Headquarters. In the course of his wanderings he came to a
dressing station, and, after his wound had been dressed, started once
more for his isolated company, which after eighteen hours was still
left among the encircling Germans as lonely as the survivors of the
Flood on Mount Ararat. He was promptly hit again in the breast.
At 2.30 a.m. of the 3rd Lieut. Glascoe, seeing that the whole surviving
party would shortly be completely surrounded, exercised a wise
discretion and got his remnant safely back to the support line.
"During the bombardment," says Captain Niven, who certainly has a right
to be heard, "this company behaved splendidly, every man holding his
own and inflicting heavy losses on the enemy wherever the opportunity
occurred."[12]
It was during the general retirement from the east of Sanctuary Wood
that two of our guns were lost. Those guns were 18-pounders, and had
been brought up to within 400 yards of the front line and established
in gun-pits. They were to be used only in case of emergency, as their
fire would be sure to disclose their position to the enemy. Owing to
their position and purpose they were known as "sacrifice guns." Lieut.
C. P. Cotton, of the 1st Divisional Artillery, was in command of them.
A German aeroplane found these guns on Friday morning (June 2nd), and
particular attention was immediately paid to them in the midst of the
general bombardment of our trenches and positions. Lieut. Cotton's
gun-crews suffered, and he reinforced them with Sappers James E. Hood
and Chambers, who were in charge of an emergency wireless station
situated within a few yards of the gun-pits.
Cotton opened fire at 1.45 in the afternoon, and, assisted by his three
surviving gunners and the two sappers, continued to fire until the
enemy came over Observatory Ridge to within a few yards of the
gun-pits. He then ordered a retirement. Sapper Hood rushed into his
wireless dug-out, destroyed his instrument, and then escaped with a
bullet through the bone of his arm. Lieut. Cotton and the others of
the gun-crews were not so fortunate. They died near the gun-pits--they
and their guns having served their desperate purpose to the end--and so
they too made the great sacrifice.
The attack still continued to spread up to our left. Between two and
three o'clock in the afternoon the extreme German right had come up to
assault our extreme left at Hooge. Two attacks were however, repulsed
with great loss to the enemy by the Royal Canadian Regiment.
[Sidenote: _June 2nd, 2 P.M.-3 P.M._]
None the less, the position at three o'clock was one of the very
gravest danger. On a frontage of three battalions the Germans had
overwhelmed our front and right support lines on the crest of the ridge
and annihilated or decimated the defending regiments. From Maple Copse
they could be seen advancing in strong force on the high ground of
Observatory Ridge into the very heart of our position, and they were
also attacking farther north down the various communication trenches
which led to the support line.[13] Our left at Hooge had held firm,
but it was now utterly in the air, save for Captain Niven and his men,
and the triumphant enemy were rapidly sweeping behind that line of
defence. The support trenches having been taken on Hill 62 and Mount
Sorrel, there was nothing in front of the German left and centre except
the Apex line to Maple Copse. It was, therefore, a matter of life and
death to hold on to these left-hand support trenches to the Apex and to
Maple Copse. But the line was very weakly held for the task of
resisting 2,000 Germans attacking from higher ground and flushed with
victory. There were, in fact, about three companies of the 5th
Canadian Mounted Rifles, the remains of the 1st and 4th Canadian
Mounted Rifles, perhaps a hundred all told, and what was left of three
companies of the Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry. The
situation looked so dangerous that the famous colours of the Princess
Patricia's were entrusted to Lieut. Scott, who took them back to
Brigade Headquarters to avoid any possibility of their capture. To the
left, from Zouave Wood to Menin Road, was one company of the Royal
Canadian Regiment in support of their companies in the front line
trenches, who could not abandon their ground. In addition, the Staffs
of the 3rd Division and the 8th Brigade, who were primarily concerned,
had lost their commanding officers. From Mount Sorrel and the 4th
Canadian Mounted Rifles they had had no news since 9.15 a.m., and did
not know whether General Mercer and General Williams were alive or
dead, or whether the trenches there still held. On the other hand, the
1st Canadian Mounted Rifles had continued to report till just before
the German attack at 1.15 p.m. that they were holding their ground and
were in no need of reinforcements. None the less, at noon the 2nd
Canadian Mounted Rifles were moved up from Brigade Reserve to Zillebeke
under heavy barrage fire.
The three factors which prevented a serious disaster were undoubtedly
the hesitation of the enemy to pursue an advantage, the strenuous
resistance of the 5th Canadian Mounted Rifles under Colonel Baker, and
the energetic action of General Macdonell of the 7th Brigade in taking
advantage of the precious moments of delay and pushing every man he
could command, beg or borrow into the threatened section.[14]
The Germans at Le Cateau, and at the first and second battles of Ypres,
had always stopped just when victory seemed within their grasp. Nor on
this occasion were they wanting to themselves. There are, however, no
doubt explanations. One was in a document found on the body of a
German officer which laid down precisely the position they were to
occupy and entrench, and this they had attained except in the
neighbourhood of Rudkin House.[15] Our barrage was heavy behind them,
and it was not until 9 p.m. that they were reinforced by an additional
two thousand men in spite of our heavy artillery.
[Sidenote: _June 2nd, afternoon and evening._]
By two o'clock the right of the 7th Brigade was in grave peril. The
Brigadier at once ordered up the reserve company of the Royal Canadian
Regiment to help. Already ten minutes before he had sent up two
companies of his support battalion, the 42nd, to assist the
hard-pressed 5th Canadian Mounted Rifles in Maple Copse and beyond.
These two companies undoubtedly just saved the situation, and a delay
of an hour or so in dispatching them might have proved fatal. The
remaining two companies of the 42nd, which were back in Ypres and
beyond, were ordered to come up to the support line trenches. The 49th
(Edmonton) Battalion (Col. Griesbach), which was right back in Brigade
Reserve, was ordered up to the Ypres ramparts, and reached there about
8.30 p.m. Not content with this, at 3 p.m. the Brigadier asked General
Butler, of the 60th British Brigade, on his left, to lend him a couple
of companies to help hold the support line. The request was granted,
and two companies of the King's Royal Rifles took up the left-hand
section, south of the Menin Road, thus enabling the Royal Canadian
Regiment Companies to shift farther to their right and strengthen the
critical point of resistance at the Apex.
[Sidenote: _June 2nd, 5 P.M.-6 P.M._]
By 5 or 6 p.m. General Macdonell had got into the support line and Apex
line five entirely fresh companies--a welcome relief to the nerve-worn
and shattered units which, under the most tremendous shell-fire, had
been struggling there from eight in the morning against heavy odds. He
had also the 49th well up in reserve, while the 8th Brigade had three
companies of the 2nd Canadian Mounted Rifles up on the right of the 5th
Canadian Mounted Rifles in Maple Copse in the communication trench
running back in the direction of Zillebeke. The reinforcements thus
amounted to eight fresh companies or two battalions. It is impossible
to speak too highly of the resource, vigour, and moral courage of the
General, who took the situation in charge on his own initiative, or of
the dash of the men who came up through the barrage over flat ground,
every yard of which could be seen by the enemy.
For the Brigade and Divisional Staffs the period was one of doubt and
anxiety. Information was hard to get from the front, and what news
came in was generally bad. Between five and six in the evening General
Hoare Nairne, C.R.A.[16] took command of the 3rd Division, and
Lieut.-Colonel Bott, 2nd Canadian Mounted Rifles, of the 8th
Brigade.[17] But to the units hastily gathered under Lieut. Evans in
the Fortified Post, to the Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry,
and the 5th Canadian Mounted Rifles, the strain was well-nigh
intolerable, for the shelling on the support line had been almost as
intense as that on the first line. The 5th Canadian Mounted Rifles
were nearly blown out of Maple Copse, and had to shift from trench to
trench more than once as the Germans got the range, but they held on.
On the left the enemy had in no way abandoned his intention of getting
into our support line, and about 2.30 p.m. some forty succeeded in
rushing it.[18] There was a sharp, short hand-to-hand struggle, in
which the Princess Patricia's bayoneted the lot. The occupants of the
Fortified Post at Maple Copse were annihilated by shell-fire, and Maple
Copse, held by the 5th Canadian Mounted Rifles, was so heavily shelled
that the whole wood was smashed flat. They had to make new trenches,
as the old ones became untenable. This was done under the eyes and
fire of the enemy, who loomed over them on Observatory Ridge in unknown
numbers and from invisible positions.
Major Hugh Walkem arrived with the first relief--a company of the
42nd--about 2 p.m., and finally got into position in the Apex between
the Canadian Mounted Rifles and the Princess Patricia's. The other
company of the 42nd took up a place in the support trenches.[19]
Through all this period there were constant rumours, fortunately
untrue, that the Germans had penetrated the line at one point or
another. It was here that Sergeant Jones, 42nd (Royal Highlanders of
Canada), made a peculiarly daring reconnaissance, lying out all night
within thirty yards of the enemy and observing the line of their
digging and the direction of their fire.
In the meanwhile, the 2nd Canadian Infantry Brigade on the right was
also in a position of grave peril, for the enemy in Armagh Wood were
practically behind its left rear. At 2 p.m. they were already in
Armagh House, but were chased out by a patrol of the 5th Battalion
under Captain Collum. The only course left open to the 5th Battalion
(Western Cavalry), which held the line here, was to throw its left out
at right angles to its main line of trenches along a communication, and
not a firing, trench in the direction of Square Wood, and to establish
themselves firmly in the wood itself. This they did, and remained till
evening watching the movements of the enemy, who were entrenching
themselves firmly on the ridge just behind Rudkin House. To the north
the Canadian Mounted Rifles were in Maple Copse 600 yards away, but the
ground between was fire-swept and trenchless. In the meantime, the 7th
Battalion (British Columbia) was brought up to support the 5th
Battalion (Western Cavalry). The 2nd Brigade offered to make a
counter-attack in the course of the afternoon with the ten platoons
available in this line, but the offer was rejected by the 1st Division,
which considered, rightly enough, that the force was insufficient for
so long a frontage. The Germans, therefore, remained undisturbed.
None the less, the Brigade was warned that a counter-attack would
almost certainly be made as soon as sufficient reserves came up.
One counter-attack of a minor character was attempted from the Maple
Copse side of the trenchless area by the 3rd Division. The 2nd
Canadian Mounted Rifles, three companies strong, had arrived in the
trenches in front of Zillebeke at 6 p.m. [Sidenote: _June 2nd, 6
P.M._] They linked up with the 7th Battalion of the 2nd Brigade on the
right, who had come up to support the 5th Battalion of their Brigade,
and attempted to create out of the old trenches there a third line in
case the enemy should break through. [Sidenote: _June 2nd, 9 P.M._]
Finally, as dusk drew on, two companies of the 2nd Canadian Mounted
Rifles were ordered forward to Maple Copse to attempt a counter-attack
on the enemy at Rudkin House. It was eleven o'clock when they reached
the Copse and met Major Allen, of the 2nd C.M.R.'s. Colonel Baker had
just fallen mortally wounded while walking up and down behind a new
trench his men were digging under heavy fire and encouraging them by
his coolness and example.[20]
[Illustration: Map--Sanctuary Wood--POSITION AFTER THE ATTACK JUNE 2nd
1916]
The 5th Canadian Mounted Rifles succeeded in maintaining their position
in Maple Copse. Shelled to pieces for hour after hour, and hunted from
cover to cover, they yet held on, and this fact was in no small measure
due to the great firmness and heroic disregard of death exhibited by
Colonel Baker. He inspired his men by sheer personal magnetism and by
the example of a splendid devotion to duty. Other men did their share
in saving the line; still, but for him it might not have been saved at
all, and in that case June the 2nd would have been associated with a
great disaster to our arms.
The attack of two companies of the 2nd C.M.R.'s in the dark against an
unknown German position held by troops whose numbers it was impossible
to estimate was not a very promising venture, and it was not pressed
home, the attackers being set to the more feasible task of trying to
dig a trench linking up Square Wood and Maple Copse. [Sidenote: _June
2nd, 11 P.M._] The Battalion sustained very heavy losses. This attempt
likewise failed, the shell-fire in the open proving too heavy; but
Captain Leduc, of the 2nd Canadian Mounted Rifles, advanced with great
daring as far as Rudkin House and satisfied himself--as proved to be
the case--that the enemy's new line was being built well behind it.
[Sidenote: _June 2nd, midnight._] The 8th Brigade had by now suffered
between 1,800 and 1,900 casualties out of their total strength, and it
was time for some fresh troops to take a hand in the game.
The losses, indeed, in both the 7th and 8th Brigades had been heavy,
but the support line, in spite of its extraordinary zigzag conformation
and the wide gaps which intersected it, remained firm. On the left the
Royal Canadian Regiment still held its original position with a
resolute calm, though its right was only supported by Capt. Niven's
company, and they retired at dawn on June 3rd. Behind it and in the
centre the support line trenches were intact, and the Princess
Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry and the 42nd still clung to their
positions; just in front of them Lieut. Evans was still holding the
Fortified Post, and no shelling could shift the Canadian Mounted Rifles
from Maple Copse, and beyond that to the south the 5th Battalion of the
1st Division were in Square Wood and the front line leading to Hill 60.
General Macdonell was up and down his front encouraging his men by his
very presence--and, indeed, there was much need of encouragement. The
movements of the Germans on the overlooking heights were shrouded in
darkness and uncertainty. They had been heavily reinforced.[22] There
was no remission of the shell-fire, which alone gave flashes of light
in the darkness except for the white flares which occasionally
illumined the ridges in front, and might portend the sudden assault of
an overwhelming enemy.
Help, however, was at hand. By the early afternoon of the 2nd the
Higher Command had been alive to the danger of the attack, and were
informed as to the true position. The determination to retake the lost
trenches was arrived at, and as darkness fell the corps began to move
in the direction of the enemy. Everywhere in the night was heard the
tramp of marching men, and the dim outlines of endless columns flowing
steadily towards the east were visible on every road.
[1] These two hills are called by the Germans Doppelhohe, or "double
heights."
[2] One company of the Princess Patricia's was in support.
[3] In consequence of this forking of the trenches in Sanctuary Wood,
there are just behind the Hill 62 position two support positions, one
behind the other--the first close to the front trenches and the second
formed by the westward bend of the Apex. I use the term "support
trenches" as meaning the first of these two lines, and in addition, of
course, the trench running from the Menin Road to the point of the Apex.
[4] Lieutenant-General the Hon. Sir Julian Byng, K.C.B., M.V.O., was
born in 1862, and joined the 10th Royal Hussars in his 21st year. In
1901 he commanded that regiment, having done distinguished service in
the Sudan, 1884, and in the South African War. He commanded the 3rd
Cavalry Division with great brilliancy during the opening stages of the
campaign in France.
[5] A "T" sap is one of a series constructed in the form of a letter
"T," so that the top of the "T" may be driven out left and right, and,
linking up with the others, form a new trench in advance.
[6] Brigadier-General Williams was taken prisoner. The Canadian Corps
was unfortunate in thus losing the services of a soldier of such wide
experience and proved skill so soon after he had taken over a brigade.
[7] The chaplain of the regiment, Capt. A. G. Wilken, was in the
trenches at the time of the attack. He acted as guide to a party of
volunteer stretcher-bearers, who brought out the wounded and returned
carrying up ammunition to the front line. He was killed during the
final assault.
[8] Lieut. Evans was greatly assisted in his defence by Private Murphy,
of the Machine Gun Company of the 8th Brigade, who beat off every
German attack, although his gun was twice buried by shell-fire. Lieut.
Beatty of the same Company also showed conspicuous gallantry and
ability in organising the machine-gun defence of the second line.
Finally he was shot through the leg, but continued at his duty until he
fainted from loss of blood.
[9] General Macdonell says of Colonel Buller: "He fell as the splendid
soldier and gallant-hearted gentleman would have wished, in the
forefront of the battle at the head of his regiment, all ranks of
which, it is not too much to say, idolised him. The Empire can ill
afford to lose such a man, a 'Chevalier sans peur et sans reproche.'"
[10] The Gloucester Regiment (28th Line) at Abercrombie's landing in
Egypt in 1801. The regiment was accorded the right of wearing its
badges both in front and back of its headgear.
[11] During this fierce engagement Capt. J. D. Macgregor, the doctor of
the P.P.C.L.I., displayed the greatest devotion, remaining three days
at his post in the firing line without rest dressing the injuries of
the wounded, often in places where there was no cover from fire.
[12] Casualties: Officers, the Princess Patricia's:--_Killed_: Colonel
Buller, Major Jones, Captain Cornish, Lieuts. MacDonnell, Wanklin,
Hagerty, De Bay, Fyfe. _Wounded_: Major Gault, Captain and Adjutant
Martin, Captain Niven, Lieuts. Scott, McDougall, Currie, Irwin, Triggs,
Glascoe. 8 killed, 9 wounded--17 out of 22 present at action.
[13] These bodies were unquestionably strong German patrols. They
developed in this action a course of procedure now generally adopted,
but then new. The assaulting column sends out in advance large
parties, whose duties are not merely reconnaissance, but the occupation
of advance positions in front of the captured line, which are to be
taken by fighting if necessary and used to repel counter-attacks.
[14] Valuable reconnoitring work was done in this connection by Lieut.
E. Basset, of the 21st Battalion, who was attached to Gen. Macdonell's
staff for instruction. It is a curious fact that nearly all the
officers from the home regiments out for this purpose were wounded in
the fighting of June.
[15] The Germans had laid down two alternative lines to take and
entrench. One, "the gold line," in case of complete success, another,
"the iron line," farther back, in case of a partial success. In
effect, they reached the gold line.
[16] Commander of the Artillery of the 3rd Division. This was the
Lahore division lent to the Canadian Corps, since the 3rd Divisional
Artillery had not yet left England.
[17] Maj. G. A. Stevens (Royal Fusiliers), Brigade-Major of the 8th
Brigade, took command in place of Brigadier-General Williams, and
commanded it with marked ability from 6.30 a.m., June 2nd, until
relieved by Lieut.-Col. Bott. [18] These were strong combative patrols
sent out according to the new plan mentioned above.
[19] Capt. Molson and Lieut. Ewing, of the 42nd Battalion, both showed
great resolution in holding out with their men at the Apex during the
critical hours of the German attack. Capt. Molson was wounded at the
Ypres ramparts on the way up; Lieut. Ewing was also wounded later, but
both went on throughout the engagement.
[20] Major Draper took over the command of the 5th C.M.R.'s when Col.
Baker fell. Although hit himself, he carried his Colonel, mortally
wounded, out of action, and then returned to conduct the defence.
[21] Colonel Hill's defence of Hooge from June 2nd to 5th will always
be remembered as a fine military feat. There was nothing to prevent
the Germans, after they had broken through the main line, rolling up
his right flank and rear except the coolness and courage of his
regiment and the skill of his own dispositions. [Transcriber's note:
there is no reference to this footnote in the text.]
[22] Our outposts by Hill 60 reported strong masses of Germans moving
up at 9 p.m., June 2nd, towards Mount Sorrel.
CHAPTER IX.
THE COUNTER-ATTACK