Chapter VII
VIMY RIDGE, 1916
On a gloriously sunny afternoon in May, a man was dozing outside his hut in the pretty little woods at the village of Camblain L’Abbé, where the Civil Service Rifles were billeted in Brigade Reserve. The Brigade had just taken over the Berthonval sector of trenches on Vimy Ridge, and the Civil Service Rifles were to spend a week in what appeared to be the most delightful village they had visited in Northern France.
It was one of those days when it feels good to be alive. The birds sang sweetly in the trees, and the delightful natural fragrance of spring was everywhere.
The afore-mentioned man, like many of his friends, had partaken of a comfortable dinner, washed down with what was known as Royal Shandy--a mixture of stout and sweet champagne, and as he settled down to a comfortable afternoon nap he reflected that, after all, war was not too bad. Some of the more energetic of his friends had gone for a walk to the neighbouring village of Aubigny, others were busy writing letters, but he preferred to have a lazy afternoon of pleasant reflection. There would be many more opportunities for excursions to Aubigny, as the Battalion had a whole week before it in these delightful surroundings. Perhaps in the evening he would visit the local cinema, as he had not been to see “the Pictures” for some time. However, that could wait too if he did not feel energetic. How he wished the Division could stay in this sector for the rest of the war! There had not been much front line work lately--a Battalion only seemed to get one week in four in the front line, and when there it was not too bad--a few mines to make a little excitement, but then these were very regular, as they always went up at sunrise and sunset in this district, so you knew when to expect them. Yes, he thought, as he dozed off to sleep, “It’s a bon war here.” He had just fallen asleep when he was roughly shaken and told that the Battalion was to “fall in” at once.
“I think they might have left us alone on a Sunday,” he groused as he quickly got his equipment together. “Who is it this time, I wonder? The Bishop of London or Horatio Bottomley? And why have we to march to Villers au Bois to see him? If he wants to preach to us why can’t he come here? However, perhaps it’s one of these infernal training gags. Major General wants to see how long it takes to move his reserves about on a summer Sunday evening. Wonder if we shall get back before the estaminets close?”
Similar thoughts were expressed by other members of the Battalion, for the only order was “Battalion will parade at once and march to Villers au Bois. Dress, full marching order.”
Although the order came round in the middle of tea, the Battalion was on the road in an astonishingly short space of time, and after a hot and dusty march a halt was called in a field near the battered old church of Villers au Bois. Here many of the men took the opportunity to strip to the waist and rub themselves down with towels. Speculation was still rife as to what it all meant, but the general opinion was that it was a training stunt, which was regarded as the very worst taste on the part of those in authority. Rumours of “dirty work afoot,” however, began to spread through the ranks, and soon the order came to occupy what was known as the Maistre Line--a line of trenches that had been planned as a third line of defence in this sector.
Once outside the village a wonderful sight met the eye. About two or three miles away, hanging over the area of the front line trenches on Vimy Ridge, was a dense cloud of bursting shells, and to make the scene more weird, not a sound could be heard, either of guns or of the explosion of the shells, although it was a beautiful still evening. The bombardment, although confined to an area of little more than a square mile, was by far the most intense yet witnessed by the Civil Service Rifles.
The Battalion was no sooner in position in the Maistre Line--a trench about two feet deep, than orders were received to move forward by Companies.
“B” Company led off, followed by “C” Company, two Lewis guns, two sections of bombers, Battalion H.Q. and “D” Company, and the remaining Lewis guns brought up the rear. “A” Company remained behind to bring up rations and water.
The advance was along a very shallow and narrow communication trench, and the scene of slaughter was approached through a barrage of tear gas. Owing to the movement of other bodies of troops progress was very slow, with the result that the Battalion endured some hours of tear gas, but the line moved slowly but surely towards the Cabaret Rouge on the Bethune-Arras Road, the site of a ruined estaminet where the Brigade Headquarters was now situated, just on the western side of the Zouave Valley.
In the words of the Regimental Diary:--
“The enemy was indulging in the most intense bombardment we had witnessed. He must have employed guns of every possible calibre. The air was just one solid mass of bursting shells.”
* * * * *
“We had little or no information as to what was happening, and as darkness had now gathered and we were in entirely strange trenches, there did not seem much chance of finding out.”
* * * * *
The leading Company (“B”), under Captain H. B. Farquhar, reached Brigade Headquarters at Cabaret Rouge at 10.15 p.m., and was ordered to report to the Commanding Officer of the Battalion holding the left of the 140th Brigade Front. After being loaded up with bombs and an extra 100 rounds of ammunition per man, they staggered forth through the barrage of the Zouave Valley, where the bombardment raged with its most intense fury, and arrived almost exhausted at the Battalion Headquarters of the left sub-sector of what was known as the Berthonval Sector shortly after 1.0 a.m., on May 22nd. The awful barrage of the valley had been negotiated almost without loss.
The Company Commander was told on arrival at Battalion Headquarters that the line of resistance and support line had been lost, and that his Company would deliver a counter attack at 2.0 a.m. It was then 1.30 a.m., and there was therefore no time to make any reconnaissance, nor was it possible to get any information at all as to the precise situation. Captain Farquhar was told that on his right the 6th and 7th Battalions would co-operate, on his left a company of the London Irish, and with him would be a party of bombers and details of the Post Office Rifles, but where any of these troops were to be found was not vouchsafed to him. He was told that one of his flanks would rest on Ersatz Trench, but as he had never heard of Ersatz Trench, nor was anyone there to show him where it was, he might just as well have been told to rest his flanks on the Unter den Linden. He was unable to find out whether there were any British troops between him and the Bosche, or how much of the line he was supposed to capture.
However, with these scant particulars, and with the information that the objective was about 600 yards up the side of the Ridge, Captain Farquhar was ordered to start his counter attack at 2.0 a.m.
He called his Platoon Sergeants and his only other officer (Lieutenant B. Scott) together, and acquainted them with the scheme, and arranged his men in two waves, 6 and 8 Platoons under Lieutenant Scott in the first wave, and 5 and 7 Platoons in the second wave.
Reports differ considerably as to what exactly happened afterwards, for it must be remembered that the operations were carried out in total darkness, save for the fitful glare of the German rockets and Verey lights, and as it is difficult to get a reliable description of any battle, even in daylight, it is even more difficult to describe this scramble in the dark, in country which was strange to the attacking forces, few, if any, of whom knew where to look for friends or foes. But there is no doubt that the attack was launched at 2.0 a.m., and that “B” Company advanced in two waves up the slopes of Vimy Ridge, with no artillery, machine guns or Lewis guns supporting them, and that very soon they came under such a murderous and intense fire from enemy artillery, trench mortars, machine guns and rifles, that very few survived unwounded. As far as can be gathered from survivors, it appears that after taking the British front line at 9.0 p.m., the enemy at once put out a barbed wire obstacle, and the survivors of “B” Company claim that a number of their men actually reached the wire, where, of course, they were helpless.
The vast majority of “B” Company having been killed or wounded, the foremest of the unwounded survivors, finding they were now in a hopeless position, appear to have decided to take cover in shell holes and await developments. Here they remained throughout the whole of the following day in scorching sunshine, looking for the best way of escape, and at nightfall they were able to make their way back.
So much, and no more, is known of the fate of “B” Company, but “C” and “D” Companies, who had followed them through the valley, were more fortunate, for the former, under Captain G. A. Gaze, arriving at the Battalion Headquarters at 1.50 a.m., were ordered to support the 18th Battalion (London Irish) at once. As he was unable to get in touch with the London Irish, Captain Gaze, assisted by a Company of the Post Office Rifles, formed a defensive flank in Granby Street, where “C” Company, dog tired as they were, set to work at once to make a decent position, and at the same time scoured the country around in search of the wounded, many of whom were rescued. It was in this work of rescue that C.S.M. R. H. Harris (Bulldog Harris) excelled himself. He went far afield in his search for his bosom friend, “Kaffir” Howett, who, as C.S.M. of “B” Company had gone down in the van of the attacking party. Harris was unable to find his friend who was so dear to him, but he succeeded in bringing in several others of the wounded, and carried on his work of rescue untiringly until daylight. It should be remembered that the whole of this rescue work was done under incessant machine gun and artillery fire.
Another who accomplished great deeds on this occasion was Sergeant T. P. Chick, of “C” Company. It was daybreak when his attention was caught by a wounded man of the Post Office Rifles, who was lying out in front of the trench. He at once announced his intention of going out to assist him, if possible, and although it was now fully light, he persisted in going out once more, and safely reached the wounded man.
Sergeant Chick was crawling back, and was not more than ten yards from the parapet, when he was shot just over the heart, and died about ten minutes afterwards.
He died for another, and his end was typical of his life of noble self-sacrifice in the interests of others.
It became a habit at one time among some troops in the Division to estimate the amount of work done by a unit by the number of casualties suffered, but although a heavy casualty list certainly indicates a “bloody” time, it does not follow that a unit which suffers few or no losses has done nothing.
Of the three Companies involved in the fighting at Vimy (for “A” Company took no part in the operations beyond carrying rations), “C” and “D” Companies appear to have got off comparatively lightly so far as casualties are concerned, though it was due to the efforts of these two Companies that a new front line was established so soon.
Under Captain A. Roberts, “D” Company was the last to cross the Zouave Valley, and on arriving at Battalion Headquarters the Company was ordered to support “B” Company. Captain Roberts had least time of all in which to find out anything about the situation, but he led his men up the slope and they eventually occupied the old Reserve Line of the Battalion originally holding the sub-sector. This line they now converted into the British front line, and “D” Company, with a few remnants of the Post Office Rifles, held it from Granby Street to Ersatz Trench--the intended flanks of “B” Company’s counter attack.
Prominent among the “D” Company men who helped in the rescue of the “B” Company wounded was Corporal R. J. B. Beazley, described by his C.S.M. as one of the best little fellows in the Regiment. He made at least half a dozen journeys “out in front” always returning with a wounded man.
A feature of the operations so far had been the entire silence of the British Artillery--it was afterwards said that the enemy attack took place in the middle of an artillery relief. But no sooner had “D” Company dug a decent front line trench than the British Artillery began to knock it about, and Captain Roberts had to complain of shorts several times during the day.
The situation became quiet soon after daybreak and “C” and “D” Companies were able to carry on with their work in peace for a few hours, but during the day the enemy from time to time put down an intense barrage, lasting generally for about half an hour, when the whole valley was filled with smoke, debris and sheets of flame. Happily, there were few further casualties on this account, and although the dose was repeated late at night when the Battalion was relieved by the 24th London Regiment, there was little further loss and the Zouave Valley was left as it had been found--in a mass of smoke and bursting shells.
The battle of Vimy Ridge, although not much more than a minor operation--it is believed to have been the sequel to the blowing of the six British mines in the vicinity on the night of the 15th of May--has been described at some length because it was the most important event so far in the life of the Civil Service Rifles in France. Hitherto the Battalion had succeeded in preserving more or less its original identity, but here, in the short space of twenty-four hours, practically all that was left of the original “B” Company had been swept away. It is perhaps because of the sudden nature of the operation that the losses came as such a shock to the surviving members of the Battalion.
Captain H. B. Farquhar had long been the idol of “B” Company, and a great favourite in other Companies in the Battalion. He had done what he could to save his men from the awful disaster, but as a soldier he had to obey orders, and, having called his platoon sergeants together and told them all he knew he bravely bade them good-bye, and, like the rest of his Company, went to his doom without flinching.
Captain Farquhar has often been described as the finest Company Commander the Battalion ever possessed.
He was keen, energetic and unselfish, a real pattern to his officers, N.C.O.’s and men. A survivor of the “B” Company of Captain Farquhar’s day has written an admirable character sketch of “the skipper” and his henchman, Lieutenant Bobby Scott, who perished with the first wave at Vimy.
“CAPTAIN FARQUHAR.--The skipper was a strong man. For all his wit, sometimes sardonic, but always merry, he could be a man of beaten steel on occasion.
“‘Old’ ‘B’ Company knew him well at Watford, but ‘old’ ‘C’ Company really made his acquaintance in France.
“In the line he ignored danger in a matter-of-fact way that inspired us as much as the theatrical bravado of a shallower man would have unsettled us. In those never-ending front line spells just before the ‘first Lillers’ he heartened us through many a weary night as no other man I know could have done. To me, as a hardened and persistent night sentry, he seemed to be an almost permanent feature of the landscape of ‘No man’s land,’ strolling serenely up and down as if taking a leisurely constitutional. He was always on the spot when anything happened, and I think we got his habit of never shirking any objectionable job which could possibly be considered ‘up to us’ to do.
“LIEUTENANT SCOTT.--‘An officer and a gentleman’ is probably the most overworked if not the most misapplied phrase in the military dictionary. It is too often thoughtlessly bestowed on any nice-mannered, band-box officer. But it fitted Mr. Scott. He was a real soldier and he was an instinctive gentleman.”
Captain Farquhar had been ably supported by his C.S.M., F. Howett, known for many years throughout the Battalion as Kaffir Howett.
* * * * *
The Kaffir had made a name for himself long before the war broke out, for he was for a long time associated with “Bulldog” Harris as the life and soul of the Regimental School of Arms. These two inseparables were also prominent members of the Civil Service Rugby Football Club.
As a soldier, Kaffir Howett had many of the sterling qualities of his Company Commander. He was a stern disciplinarian and was fearless in the line, but while, he too, had a subtle sense of humour, he was more of the “strong silent man” than of the “merry and bright.”
The only consoling reflection about the loss of these more than gallant fellows is that they could not have died in better company, but what magnificent deeds would have been done later in the year by such fellows as Farquhar, Scott, Howett and Chick, and to them must be added Sergeant A. J. Andrews (Long Andrews or Driver Andrews to his intimates) another old pillar of “B” Company, who before the war had made a name on the football field, and Corporal S. Crocombe, a staunch N.C.O. of “B” Company, who, although rescued on the night of the battle, succumbed to his wounds five days later.
Besides the killed, a number of the stalwarts of the Battalion were wounded. In “B” Company alone, these included Sergeants A. W. Hodgson, who had already been wounded once, and F. Tyler (known as Wat Tyler), and Corporals H. W. Rowland and F. Plaster, four N. C. O.’s who had been prominent members of the Company for many years, whilst “D” Company had to deplore the loss of Sergeant G. Wright, who in addition to his fine military record, performed great deeds on the cricket field.
The Lewis Gunners also had their losses, the outstanding one being Lance-Corporal “Cocky” Oliver (wounded) whose ready wit on all occasions was such a valuable asset to the Lewis Gun Section.
VIII. CALONNE RICOUART AND SOUCHEZ
It will be gathered from the foregoing that, in whatever light the operation on Vimy Ridge was regarded by the General Staff, to the Civil Service Rifles it was a battle of some importance, and the loss of so many of the leading members naturally plunged the survivors into something approaching deep depression as they trudged wearily back to Camblain l’Abbé on the morning of the 23rd of May. The Transport limbers were met at Villers au Bois, and many weary men were thankful to shed their equipment here, and some of the more exhausted managed even to secure a lift for the rest of the journey.
The Transport Section, too, had played its part in the battle, for every available horse and man had been employed during the 22nd of May carrying bombs and ammunition across the track to Cabaret Rouge in daylight. Fortunately they had escaped any loss, either of men or horses.
Camblain l’Abbé was now very different from the quiet little village that had seemed so far removed from the war two days before. The whole Brigade occupied the billets recently allotted to the Civil Service Rifles, and it was here that the news of the counter attack by the 142nd Infantry Brigade was awaited with such keen interest on the night of the 24th. The attempt, however, like that of another Division a few days later, was unsuccessful, and the crest of Vimy Ridge remained in German possession until the Canadian victory of the 1st of April, 1917.
“The feelings of men leaving the danger zone for a period of rest defy accurate portrayal. Each one has his own individual thoughts, but they may be summed up in one word ‘contentment.’” Thus writes a well-known N.C.O. of “C” Company, who went so far as to say that the tension had been so great for a short period that, on knowing himself to be out of immediate danger for the time being, he felt as if he could have marched fifty miles, with full pack and blankets thrown in!
“Every force has a recoil,” he continues, “and most men feel tremendously bucked on leaving the trenches for a spell out of the line.
“It was thus with feeling of great relief that the Battalion marched to Calonne Ricouart on the 25th of May, there to forget their sorrows in the work of training and reorganisation.”
It is pleasing to be able to record the recognition, in the shape of honours and awards, of some of the many acts of gallantry performed in the Battalion on Vimy Ridge, and while at Calonne Ricouart it was heard that the work of C.S.M. R. H. Harris and Second Lieutenant F. Osborne was recognised by the award of the Military Cross; and Lance-Corporal Mark W. Hall, the leading stretcher-bearer of “B” Company, Sergeant W. R. McKinley of “A” Company, Private S. H. Bressey of “D” Company and Private L. Flanagan of “B” Company were awarded the Military Medal.
Sports Meetings of various descriptions were held at Calonne Ricouart, and as the billets were good and the weather generally was fine, the troops soon began to recover their good spirits.
The Transport field was approached by a one-sided rustic bridge over a stream. On one occasion almost the entire section endeavoured to make “Onions,” the mascot, mule take a bath from this bridge. The old lady, however, was proof against all efforts, and the only thing that happened was that the side of the bridge gave way. Lower down the road was a picturesque water mill, and next to this an estaminet, “Au Joli Pêcher,” provided liquid refreshment. Here Mlle. Felicité always had a roomful of thirsty soldats who required a great deal of la bière to wash the dust out of their throats.
Large drafts of officers and men began to arrive from England, and very soon the Battalion became once more up to strength, and to complete the refitting, short rifles were now issued to all N. C. O.’s and men in place of the long Lee Metfords with which they had hitherto been armed.
The event of the “rest” was an original revue entitled “Spit and Polish,” performed on the afternoon of the 10th of June at the Cinema, Divion. The “leading lady” has given the following account of the affair.
“The first rehearsal took place in Lieutenant Sharratt’s billet. After a lot of smoking and talking, but very little rehearsing, the parts were allotted as follows:--
The Bogus Brigadier Private Teasdale. Adjutant Private Graham. Sergeant-Major Private Lloyd. Colonel Straws, I.D. Private Chisholm. Real Brigadier Second-Lieutenant W. H. Brantom. Hon. Lady Lizzie Private C. Cooper.
“The plot was written round the Hon. Lady Lizzie, who, bent on war work, obtained a situation as typist in the orderly-room where two Tommies--one disguised as a Brigadier and the other as an Adjutant--had decided to run the war in their own way. Eventually the real Brigadier comes on the scene. Lady Lizzie turns out to be his daughter and marries the bogus Brigadier, Sir Charles Chaplin!
“The revue was performed four days after the first rehearsal. Fortunately little memorising was needed as we relied chiefly on gags. On the morning of the performance Captain Ind came over to Divion to censor the dress rehearsal. Needless to say he cut out some of the best things, though, even then, the show had some ‘kick’ left in it. And perhaps the revue was a trifle crude in places. But there was no holding a man like Teasdale. With his quick wit and fertile brain it required some nimbleness of mind to keep pace with him in everything--especially as I was playing the girl’s part!
“I don’t think anybody who was there will forget the occasion. The battalion had marched from Calonne, a distance of three miles, and arrived at the Cinema three-quarters of an hour before time, thus giving the boys an opportunity for a concert to themselves.[13] The noise was terrific, the bombers singing their particular songs and being howled down by the Lewis Gunners with their own pet ditties, and vice versa. When ‘Posh Harry’ arrived he was greeted with the refrain:
[13] The pioneers (of whom the lengthy Foote and Ginger Facon were notorious members) in the meantime prepared the stage, proving themselves expert stage carpenters.
“I wish I were an R. S. M. Earning lots of dollars. Etc., etc., etc.”
“The first half of the programme consisted of single turns frantically applauded. Then came the revue.
“I won’t attempt to describe it fully, but who will quite forget the beauty chorus of those thirty nice, smart soldiers, headed by Knapp, singing in harmony to the tune of ‘Boiled Beef and Carrots,’ that opening chorus:
“Spit and Polish! Spit and Polish! Our fathers said in days of yore. That Spit and Polish would win this war. Don’t walk about like dirty dogs Or lads from Eton College, The only way to win this war Is--Spit and Polish!”
“Of this chorus, Sidwell, he of the staring eyes, was great as the man who fainted on actually seeing the kidneys and best parts of the meat handed to his Company when drawing rations at the Q.M. Stores!
“The great moment, however, was Teasdale’s entry as the Brigadier (on a chair with the back for the horse’s head) with umpteen ribbons on his chest, wonderful top boots--his whole appearance a thing of joy! He kept the house in a boisterous thunder of hilarious applause right through to his final inspection of the beauty chorus when he presented a tin of Brasso to poor old Knapsky!”
The revue was a happy conclusion to a very enjoyable stay at Calonne Ricouart, and shortly afterwards a return was made to the front line trenches known as the Souchez Sector, a little north of the village of Souchez.
The outstanding features of life in this area were the heavy trench mortars used by the Bosches in the line, and the very happy days in Noulette Woods, near the village of Aix Noulette, when out of the line.
Early in July the Battalion was ordered to raid the enemy trenches in the Bois en Hache, just north of Souchez, but although five officers and 100 other ranks were specially trained for the event, it was a dismal failure, and it has long been a forbidden topic of conversation in Civil Service Rifles circles. Fortunately the casualties were few, and the Battalion left the area shortly afterwards to return to the dreaded Berthonval sector on Vimy Ridge.
On this occasion, however, a very peaceful time was spent in the front line, and it was hard to believe that it was the scene of the big fight of two months ago.
The thoughts of every one were now turned to the big offensive in the Somme district, and for some time the distant rumble of guns, heard daily from morning till night, had given rise to discussions as to when the 47th Division would move south to join in the fray.
It was therefore no surprise when the Civil Service Rifles marched out of Camblain l’Abbé on the 26th of July, 1916, after four very happy days in that pleasant village, to start the great trek to the Somme district.
IX. THE TREK
During its career in France, the Civil Service Rifles have frequently moved over long distances by route march--a practice known as “trekking”--but the great march of 1916 seems so to have dwarfed all other performances of a similar nature, that it is always referred to simply as “the trek,” and it is agreed by all who took part in it, that the trek was one of the most enjoyable experiences the Civil Service Rifles had during the war.
At the same time the period was one of the most strenuous, the daily programme of work being sometimes so crowded that it hardly seemed worth while to go to bed. The Divisional Commander was evidently a firm believer in early rising, for réveillé was often sounded at the early hour of 3.30 a.m.
The route from the mining district to the valley of the Somme was distinctly roundabout, and for the first two or three weeks of the trek the Division got farther and farther away from its destination, until eventually it came to rest near the coast in the Abbéville district.
A pleasant march on the first day brought the Civil Service Rifles to the village of Houdain, where Lieutenant G. G. Bates organised a very successful Mess Dinner for officers at the Café du Centre, and on the following day, after a short march, the village of Valhuon, near St. Pol, was reached, where four enjoyable days were spent in lovely summer weather. The weather, indeed, was a little too summer-like on the day of the march from Valhuon to Croisette. Not only was it so far the hottest day of the year, but the march took place during the hottest time of the day, and when Croisette was reached at 3.30 p.m. many had fallen by the wayside. Other units of the Division had similar experiences, and hereafter early rising was the order of the day, réveillé generally being sounded about an hour before dawn so that training could be finished before the heat of the day.
A common occurrence during the marches on the trek was the failure to observe the infantryman’s most valuable charter--ten minutes’ halt in every hour. The marches were usually by Brigades, and the starting point was often a mile or so away from the billeting area. For some strange reason the march to the starting point was wont to be hurried, and what should have been the first halt was omitted altogether.
Towards the end of the march, again, the leading Battalion, on approaching the village in which it was to be billeted, would often cut out the halt as the appointed time was reached, and go straight on to the billets. The succeeding Battalions on such occasions would follow like sheep, irrespective of whether they were billeted in the same village or in another one two or three miles farther on.
In these circumstances it is not surprising that marches which on paper looked nothing out of the ordinary were found to be very arduous and trying, and men were frequently guilty of the “crime” of falling out on the march.
At first early rising was voted a success by all ranks, but when an afternoon parade was introduced and later an evening parade just to fill up the day, the troops began to feel that though it was “nice to get up in the morning,” it was certainly “nicer to stay in bed.”
A day’s rest at Croisette was followed by a march to Fortel, where, during a four days’ stay, a delightful bathing place was discovered in the swift-flowing, icy cold waters of the River Canche. “A” and “D” Companies and the Lewis gunners have happy recollections of this stream, for the most part of the two hours’ route march by Companies which formed part of the daily programme was spent in and around the bathing place.
The 4th of August at Conteville was marred by the sudden introduction of an evening parade. The move from Fortel had taken place in the early hours of the morning, and after a very short march Conteville was reached at about 10.0 a.m. The troops were still congratulating themselves on their luck when the order came round that all units in the Division would at once start to practise an attack on a wood or village.
The wandering life was resumed on the 5th of August, when the Division moved to the training area near Abbéville, the Civil Service Rifles being billeted in the little village of Drucat. The Division now settled down to serious work, and for three weeks the troops trained strenuously every day. It is interesting to note that the Division trained for its share in the battle of the Somme near the historic battlefield of Crécy.
But although there was much hard work and the billets at Drucat were poor--so poor that in many cases both officers and men slept in gardens or fields--and the inhabitants inclined to be hostile, memories of August 1916 are among the happiest of the war.
A great drawback, however, was the scarcity of beer. The estaminets in the village had none at all, nor did they attempt to get any, for they were thus able to get rid of their stock of atrocious wines. The Regimental Canteen eventually came to the rescue by securing a supply of beer from Abbéville.
The weather at first was all that could be desired, and bathing was indulged in daily. At the end of the fields occupied by the Lewis gun section and the Transport lines ran a narrow, shallow stream. The men of the Transport section, by damming the stream with a wall of filled sandbags, managed to construct a pool just big enough for a man to plunge in, and the bathing pool was thoroughly appreciated by officers and men alike.
A number of N.C.O.’s and men were allowed to go to Abbéville each day, and a merry day in the old French town usually ended with the hiring of antiquated “voitures” for the journey home. The said “voitures” were invariably driven by members of the Civil Service Rifles, the lawful owners or drivers always being willing to hand over the reins, and many were the chariot races run on the road from Abbéville to Drucat by rival parties from the Civil Service Rifles, the winning post being the Company parade ground, where the races ended just as the Company was on parade for roll call.
Cricket was played in the Lewis gun field, where, also, an al fresco concert was given one day by a concert party sent by Miss Lena Ashwell. The weather was most unkind that day, but the spirits of the concert party, like those of the troops, were not to be squashed by the rain, and the artistes, five charming English ladies and two gentlemen, gallantly stuck it until the deluge became so terrific that the noise of it drowned the efforts of the whole party to sing “Chalk Farm to Camberwell Green.”
What testimony to the attractiveness of the party could be more eloquent than the simple fact that none of the audience left the field! The appreciation of the audience was not limited to the performance. It was a rare and refreshing feast to see those five pretty English girls, especially to those, and they were many, who had not been privileged to see an English girl for more than a year. Moreover, the Civil Service Rifles were told that they were the first real fighting troops to be entertained by these ladies, who had hitherto had to content themselves with entertaining those whose duties kept them at the Base.
Colonel Warrender thanked the artistes in his most delightful style and expressed the sentiments of all ranks when he said that it was the most enjoyable concert that had ever been given to the Battalion.
While at Drucat the Battalion received a consignment of what at first were thought to be toy bread-carts, such as are used in London suburbs. But on inquiry it was found that these were the new “Hand Carts, Lewis Gun,” intended to replace the limbers.
These little carts were first “tried out” on the departure from Drucat on the 20th of August with disastrous results. The shafts broke before the first halt, and ere long each team of Lewis gunners was stripped to the waist, their clothes and equipment piled high on to the carts while they tugged and pushed at their vehicles, gallantly struggling to keep up with the Battalion. But in spite of these determined efforts they were all very badly “tailed off.”
The route march concluded with an outpost scheme, and in the evening the Civil Service Rifles were billeted in Villers Sous Ailly, a pretty little village, conspicuous for the excellent spirit of hospitality shown by the inhabitants--a welcome change from recent experiences. The only regret about Villers was that the Battalion had to leave the next morning.
The farce of the Lewis gun handcarts was continued, and in spite of a great display of inventive genius by the Lewis gunners, they were quite unable to keep up with the Battalion. Perhaps the best suggestion was that of the man who said the Lewis gunners should take turns at carrying the carts on their backs!
It was said the carts had passed a severe test in the courtyard of the War Office and had been found to run smoothly when empty.
Leaving Villers Sous Ailly, two uncomfortable nights were spent at Naours and Mirvaux (considered by many to be the most dilapidated village in Europe outside the “forward area,” and where one man pushed a whole wall down by simply leaning against it!), and on the 23rd of August the 140th Infantry Brigade reached Franvillers, near the Amiens-Albert road. Here there appeared to be a concentration of all the flies on the Western front, and it was thought that these were to take part in a new form of attack!
Franvillers and district was used as a kind of “finishing school” for troops in training for any particular phase of the battle of the Somme in 1916, and as it was fairly near to the battlefield, it had become an unusually busy centre. Troops from all parts of the United Kingdom seemed to have passed through and every available inch of space was used for billets. The billets, owing chiefly to overcrowding, were very uncomfortable and very dirty, and the natives were beginning to get tired of the troops.
The training was of the very strenuous type--drills before breakfast, attack practice after breakfast, musketry and digging in the afternoon, and route march in the evening. It was now known that the attack which was being practised daily over a taped course was to be on a certain wood, but the name of the wood was so far kept secret.
But in spite of this crowded programme, there were some who found time for trips to Amiens, and there were many who enjoyed the excellent bathing in a natural pool in the Ancre at Heilly, a village south of the Amiens-Albert road.
It was at Franvillers that Sergeant R. F. M. Bigby earned the gratitude of his comrades by securing an issue of rum for all. According to his story he was drinking beer in an estaminet, when the Regimental Medical Officer came in on a tour of inspection, accompanied by the A.D.M.S. A mild outbreak of enteric in the Division was causing the medical fraternity some anxiety at the time, and efforts were being made to discover the cause of it. The A.D.M.S. asked Sergeant Bigby what he was drinking, but, on being informed, instead of ordering any, as Bigby had expected, the doctor inquired about the quality of it. The gallant sergeant assured the medicos that the quality was poor, but that if followed by a ration of rum there were no ill effects. On the contrary, a ration of rum at night, especially during bad weather and in bad billets, had been found to be a pretty sure prevention against enteric, which complaint, added Bigby--as the medicos were doubtless aware--was getting rather troublesome at Franvillers. But then, there had not been an issue of rum so far in that village, so could one be surprised?
When, very shortly after this interview, a ration of rum was issued to the troops, there were few in the Division who did not acclaim the name of Bigby!
Early in September it became known that the 47th Division was to attack the German positions in and around High Wood--positions which had already been captured by more than one Division, but afterwards retaken by the Germans, who, throughout six weeks of heavy fighting, had resisted all attempts to dislodge them permanently. To the Civil Service Rifles were allotted the first German lines in the wood itself, with the 7th Battalion on their right and the 17th Battalion on their left. Henceforth there was a state of suppressed excitement in the Battalion, and all ranks took the very keenest interest in the full dress rehearsals over a marked-out battlefield, which occupied the last days of training at Franvillers. These “shows” were attended by the whole Division, including Artillery, Trench Mortars, and the contact aeroplanes attached to the Division, and the attack was practised with zero at every possible hour of the day or night.
By the time Franvillers was left, on the 12th of September, every man understood what he had to do and where he had to go in the battle.
A few privileged persons had been to see a demonstration of the great secret of the war--the Caterpillars, as they were called in those days, also frequently referred to at this time as the “Hush! Hush!” These new engines of warfare, which soon became known as Tanks, were to make their first bow to the public by assisting in the attack on High Wood, where two of them were eventually allotted to the Civil Service Rifles in place of an artillery barrage.
After leaving Franvillers, the Battalion took the fine Route Nationale to Albert, “a city of empty and ruined houses, some occupied by our troops, others barred and bolted as if a very plague had taken off the population.” The Civil Service Rifles passed right under the shadow of the ruined cathedral with the gilded Madonna and Child hanging face downwards from the top of the steeple. From Albert the Battalion marched to Becourt Wood and relieved the 2nd Royal Sussex in what looked like a big rubbish tip, remaining there in reserve until the 14th.
The scene which met the eye after passing through Albert has been recorded by Corporal De Ath, who was attached to the 140th Trench Mortar Battery.
“I shall never forget the sight that met our eyes on the other side of the town,” writes De Ath. “It took us some time to realise that we were looking on what was to us, an almost incredible and unheard of thing--a vast armed camp just behind the trenches and well within shell fire. As far as the eye could see there were miles of tents, bivouacs, limbers and horse lines. Huge dumps of supplies and ammunition covered the ground, and between them, in any old corner, were the big guns--huge monsters roaring incessantly and devouring the great piles of shells stacked around. Everywhere were scenes of the greatest activity, and one could only rub one’s eyes and gasp at this astounding spectacle. The colossal cheek of that great camp rather shocked us, but there it was, unconcerned and undisturbed, thanks to our magnificent aircraft, constantly patrolling above with never an enemy plane daring to do likewise.
“We pitched our bivouacs on the crest of a ridge just behind the old front line, and to the left of Becourt Wood. From that high point we got a good view of the surrounding country. At our feet the usual flotsam and jetsam of abandoned trenches with their tangled heaps of barbed wire. Away behind us was the wooded country-side which came as a change after the drab monotonous scenery of the Flemish Flats. Closer at hand the ruined Cathedral caught one’s eye.
“But away in front, in the wake of the advance, the picture was entirely different. It was a scene of desolation--a desert of low ridges, scarred and marked by blurred lines of chalk trenches and shell holes. Here and there a few jagged tree stumps stood out, but nearly every feature of the landscape had been swept away by the furious pounding of our shells.
“All along the sky line our heavy shells and shrapnel were bursting continually, so that the smoke never ceased. Now and again it would slacken only to break out again with double intensity. Behind and around us the ‘Heavies’ boomed and roared, whilst in front in every little valley and hollow, even in the open without pretence of cover, our 18-pounders snapped and barked viciously, alternating with the deeper notes of the 4·5’s and the 60-pounders. Between whiles one heard the heavy ‘crump’ of the Hun shells.
“A confused blur showed where a village once stood, but only a heap of rubble and dust was left, revealed more often than not by the junction of several roads. In the dip below lay Fricourt, to the left Thiepval and Pozieres where bloody fights raged on July 1st. Further away the green mass of Mametz Wood, still providing excellent cover in spite of the thinning out it had undergone. Further on lay Contalmaison, Montauban and the Bazentins, with Delville Wood to the right, and there on the crown of the ridge a little bunch of tree stumps marked the wood that was to be our goal, the key to the desperate game that we were to play on the morrow. The country seemed surprisingly difficult. A series of low hills and ridges plentifully dotted with woods and villages and traversed by numerous sunken roads, culminated in the ridge which overlooked the plain of Bapaume. Most of that ridge was already ours, but in many places the enemy still hung out with stubborn tenacity. It looked terrible country to fight through--naturally strong and made almost impregnable by German science and skill.
It was realised that the Civil Service Rifles were about to go through the most severe test in their history, by the side of which Festubert, Loos, and even Vimy Ridge would be insignificant. The thorough training which had just been completed, however, had filled all ranks with confidence, and the great Somme trek, which ended on the 14th of September with the relief of the 1st Surrey Rifles in the front line trenches in High Wood, brought to a close a period of training which for really strenuous work has never been beaten. Some, in fact, allege that the Division was overtrained at this time, and that the “finishing school” at Franvillers had nearly finished them off. But in spite of these allegations, it is believed that the Battalion had never been better prepared for battle.
X. HIGH WOOD
What a wonderful scene it was along the New German Road on the afternoon of the 14th of September--a never-ending transport column moving along in broad daylight, conveying ammunition and R.E. material for the big fight. An object of special interest to the Civil Service Rifles was one of the tanks which was passed on the road. The men studied it critically and expressed a pious hope that it would turn up all right on the day.
Although the road was so crowded with traffic, there was little shelling, and after passing Bazentin-le-Grand the long communication trench was entered and the front line reached without loss.
High Wood was about the last vantage point that the enemy held along the ridge. Only a few jagged trees remained and the ground was littered with broken limbers and pitted with innumerable shell holes which literally intersected one another. Various trenches ran through the Wood, of which the greatest part was held by the enemy.
The relief over, it became known that zero for the attack would be at 5.50 a.m. on the morrow, and thereupon a weird silence fell over all the area of the assembly trenches, where the men were packed like sardines in a tin. Many chapters have been written in an attempt to describe the eve of a battle, but the finest description ever written falls very short of expressing the feelings and thoughts of the men as they wait in their assembly trenches for the dawn.
No attempt will be made here to describe the eve of High Wood. Suffice it to say that it was a very quiet night; that the troops, as they stood squashed up in Black Watch Trench, fervently hoped that their fate on the morrow would be better than that of the Battalion whose name the trench bore; and that the only fellows who got any sleep were those who crept out into No Man’s Land to lie down in shell holes. Rum was issued at dawn, and after a sleepless night it was unusually welcome.
And now zero hour approached, and thoughts turned to the tanks, which were due to be on the German front line five minutes before zero. The time drew nearer, but no tanks appeared, and a few minutes before zero, Company Commanders received a message telling them to send an officer to guide the tanks, if seen. Thus, the Civil Service Rifles were handicapped at the start, for the tanks were neither seen nor heard.
Owing to the irregular formation of the assembly trenches, “B,” “C” and “D” Companies had been instructed to creep out before zero, so that when the attack started they would be forming a straight line with “A” Company, who were on the extreme right. These Companies accordingly began to creep up soon after 5.30 a.m. The fight, therefore, can be said to have started well before zero, for at once as these men left their trenches, German rifles opened fire, followed by machine guns, and by zero hour the three left Companies of the Civil Service Rifles, together with the Battalion on their left, were already being treated to a murderous fire from a multitude of machine guns and rifles in the German front line trenches. At the same time down came the German artillery barrage on the assembly trenches. As there was no artillery support whatever, the attack at this point was held up, but not before about four-fifths of “B,” “C,” and “D” Companies had been either killed or wounded.
“A” Company, on the right, fared much better. They did not leave their trenches until zero, and their course led them out of the wood almost immediately. Consequently, when they started, the German machine guns were already busily occupied with the other Companies, and “A” Company carried the first and second German trenches outside High Wood with comparatively little loss. Arrived at the objective, a certain amount of hand-to-hand fighting took place, in which Sergeant H. B. Riddell and Second Lieutenant L. L. Burtt, distinguished themselves, the former being chiefly instrumental in putting a machine gun out of action, though he was wounded in the fight.
The Battalion signallers following up “A” Company had established a station in the captured trench, and as their lines held for some time, the details of how “A” Company had fared were quickly sent down to Battalion Headquarters.
“A” Company had already taken a number of prisoners, and they now proceeded to bomb along the captured trench towards where they expected to find “B” Company, but it was soon realised that the other Companies had been held up. The situation with these Companies was very grave. The Company Commanders of “B” and “D” Companies, Captains Leslie Davies and Arthur Roberts, had been killed, while Captain Geoffrey Gaze, commanding “C” Company, was wounded, but refused to go down. Captain Gaze, in fact, was the only officer in these three Companies remaining at duty. A good many of the senior N.C.O.’s had also been killed and wounded, but thanks to the timely efforts of C.S.M. Brett of “D” Company, C.S.M. Harris of “C” Company, and the surviving N.C.O.’s of all three battered Companies, the remnants were formed up again in the assembly positions, ready for another attempt.
Meanwhile the tanks had not shown up, though one of them later on, after nearly smashing up Battalion Headquarters, got stuck in a communication trench, and materially interfered with the removal of the wounded. Its pilot got out, and, going into Battalion Headquarters, asked the Commanding Officer where High Wood was. Colonel Warrender’s reply is not recorded.
The other tank eventually got into action somewhere in front of “D” Company’s objective, and then caught fire.
At 11.0 a.m. the 140th Infantry Brigade Stokes mortar battery came to the rescue. Captain Good, who was in command, had had his guns on the spot overnight, and had been anxious to give the attacking infantry some support. On the ground that surprise was to be the key-note of the attack, however, the authorities decided to keep the Stokes guns, like the artillery, silent. Captain Good and his men responded magnificently when they were given the permission they sought so eagerly, and for twenty minutes, “feeding their voracious little pets with bombs until they grew too hot to touch,” as De Ath says, the battery put down such an accurate and intense bombardment on the German front line that “C” and “D” Companies, when they went forward again, carried their objectives without much difficulty. The trench mortars had fired close on 800 rounds in twenty minutes--a feat afterwards described by 4th Army Headquarters as the most brilliant piece of work in the history of trench mortars.
“C” Company was gallantly led for a second time by Captain Gaze, but he was killed before reaching the objective.
By noon the whole of High Wood was in British possession, together with what was known as the Switch Line beyond, and the Civil Service Rifles had taken many prisoners and machine guns. The price of victory, however, was terrible, and only 150 of the four Companies reached their objective.
The foregoing is an attempt at a description of the first phase of the battle of High Wood, as it appeared to one who was present on the spot. A well-known war correspondent seems to have had a better view of the fight, for he related in detail in a London newspaper how the tanks captured High Wood!
The first stage of the battle was over, but there was much more to follow. The remnants of the Battalion advanced a little beyond the trench known as Switch Line and dug themselves in in a new trench, and the afternoon was spent in hard work in consolidating these positions, which were, however, subject to considerable shelling by heavy artillery.
During the day the 6th and 8th Battalions had pushed through to take trenches some distance beyond, known as the Flers Line (connecting the village of Flers with Eaucourt L’Abbé), and the Starfish, an intermediate line.
These operations only partially succeeded, so at 5.30 in the evening of the 15th of September, the 1st Surrey Rifles, who were in reserve, were sent out to attack the western half of the Starfish Line and the strong point known as the Cough Drop. The Civil Service Rifles were to occupy the Starfish when the 1st Surrey Rifles vacated it. The latter, however, on emerging from High Wood in artillery formation, were immediately caught by an intense enemy artillery and machine-gun barrage, and the attack failed.
A similar experiment was tried at 9.0 a.m. the next morning with the 23rd Battalion, but, although they advanced a considerable distance, they were unable to reach the Flers Line. The Boches, however, obliged by withdrawing to the Flers Line, and the 6th and 8th Battalions occupied part of the Cough Drop and the Starfish Line respectively. The 23rd Battalion included two ex-Civil Service Riflemen in Major Kemble and Second Lieutenant J. H. Hunt, who lost his life in this attack. As a sergeant in “D” Company, J. H. Hunt had been exceptionally popular, and the keenest regret was felt among his many friends when he left to take his commission.
When darkness fell on the first night of the battle, the melancholy work of the burial of the dead was begun. The special party told off for this work dug graves in High Wood itself, and all the dead who could be found were buried side by side there.
The night of the 15th September presented a very striking contrast to the previous night, when peace and quiet had reigned in High Wood. The heavy artillery, with which the enemy was so well supplied, pounded away continually at the new trenches and at the supporting field gun batteries on the edge of the wood. Amid the noise of the shells could often be heard the groans of the wounded who had not yet been brought in, the shouts of the search party of stretcher bearers, and the curses of a ration or carrying party who had got lost. But above all was the ceaseless wail of the field guns, echoing over the wilderness. Listening to them on that night one could almost imagine that they, too, were mourning for the gallant fellows who had lost their lives that day, and who were now being laid to rest. To many who were there the peculiar echo of the field gun ever afterwards brought back vivid memories of those terrible nights in High Wood.
There were many incidents and sights at High Wood which left a lasting impression on the minds of the survivors. The impressions of Corporal M. J. Guiton, of “C” Company, who lost a leg there, are typical of many others in the Battalion:--
“That day I saw sights which were passing strange to a man of peace. I saw men in their madness bayonet each other without mercy, without thought. I saw the hot life’s blood of German and Englishman flow out together, and drench the fair soil of France. I saw men torn to fragments by the near explosion of bombs, and--worse than any sight--I heard the agonised cries and shrieks of men in mortal pain who were giving up their souls to their Maker.
“The mental picture painted through the medium of the eye may fade, but the cries of those poor, tortured and torn men I can never forget: they are with me always. I would I had been deaf at the time.”
* * * * *
The day after the first attack was spent in the new trench, where the garrison was shelled by heavy guns nearly all day. The Adjutant, Lieutenant W. E. Ind, who had been full of energy from the start, was a very frequent visitor, and in the evening he brought the good news that the Battalion was to go forward to occupy a trench which had deep dug-outs and which wasn’t shelled. Tired as they were, the troops jumped at the idea, and were ready in less than no time. The Adjutant led the way in a pitch black darkness to the expected comfort, which proved in the end to be a trench two feet deep, which had been started by the Germans as a cable trench.
It had been reported that the 6th Battalion was holding the Flers Line, and the Civil Service Rifles were accordingly going to occupy Drop Alley, a communication trench leading from the strong point called the Cough Drop to the Flers Line. But on arrival at the Cough Drop, Lieutenant Ind found that the report was untrue, and he had perforce to squeeze his small body of men in the western half of the Cough Drop and the afore-mentioned cable trench which ran out of it. It had been a long and weary journey, but the men set to work like niggers to dig a decent trench. There were now only two officers and about 100 other ranks, but these included a good sprinkling of seasoned warrant officers and N.C.O.’s, and the force made up in quality what it lacked in quantity. C.S.M. Callingham and Sergeant Irving of “A” Company had done their comrades a very great service by struggling along with a jar of rum, which was practically all that turned up that night in the shape of rations, unless mention is to be made of rations sent up by a thoughtful Quartermaster for the two officers--a bag of candles!
The process of digging in was no sooner finished than the exhausted troops had to stand to for about an hour and a half, on information from the 6th that the enemy was “coming over in large numbers.”
So the day went on with a constant succession of alarms, intense bombardments and standing to. It was indeed a trying time for all that was left of the four Companies and Lewis gun teams who, forty-eight hours ago, had been so full of hope. But they all “stuck it” very valiantly, and the excellent spirits of the men--prominent among whom were Lance-Corporal F. A. Coward and his Lewis gun team, Privates Hundleby, Lynch, and E. H. Lyons--together with the splendid example set by Paddy Brett and Bob Harris, served to sustain the excellent morale of the Civil Service Rifles. Special mention should be made of the excellent patrol work done by Sergeant D. Gooding, of “D” Company, who went out in broad daylight “to find touch on the left.” The left flank of the position was exposed, and it was not known whether friend or foe occupied the country beyond. Sergeant Gooding, with two men, started off, therefore, without any information and, although under rifle fire from shell holes and isolated posts, they carried out a complete reconnaissance of the country which separated the Civil Service Rifles from the nearest friendly troops, four or five hundred yards away. Many others of that little band distinguished themselves by their devotion to duty during a day when there was no communication of any kind from Battalion Headquarters, and the party in the line became attached to the 6th Battalion in the Cough Drop.
On the 18th, a small reinforcement arrived in the shape of three officers--Lieutenants W. L. C. Rathbone, G. M. Hoste, and B. K. Ware, and fifty other ranks, from the “Non Starters” camp in Bottom Wood, where a few officers and other ranks had been kept out of the fight in order to form a nucleus for reorganisation in case of heavy losses.
Before being relieved on the night of the 19th September by the 1st Battalion The Black Watch, the Civil Service Rifles undertook two more operations. The first was an advance into the Flers Line on the 18th, but as the enemy had by now evacuated this trench, the advance passed off without loss.
But the enemy still held the junction of the Flers Line and Drop Alley, and that portion of the Flers Line west of the junction. The New Zealanders had a party in the Flers Line between the Bosches and the Civil Service Rifles, but the Civil Service Rifles had a small force under Lieutenant B. K. Ware in Drop Alley. These two forces attempted, by joint bombing attacks, to dislodge the Bosches, but the attempt failed. The men were now thoroughly exhausted, for in addition to the enormous amount of work of the past few days and the excitement of the fray, the last twenty-four hours had been endured in a pitiless rain, which caused huge chunks of the trenches to give way. There was mud and rain everywhere and, as there was no shelter, rifles and Lewis guns eventually became choked with mud. It was while in this state that the enemy attempted to drive Lieutenant Ware’s party out of Drop Alley. He partially succeeded at first, but was afterwards driven back. But at 7.0 p.m. on the 19th, he came again with renewed vigour, and got down Drop Alley, where the defending troops, with rifles and Lewis guns out of action, and themselves quite worn out, were unable to dislodge him. They did not give up without a struggle, however, and Lieutenant Ware died that night in a plucky attempt to achieve the impossible. Thus ended the operations of the Civil Service Rifles at High Wood, but it was indeed a skeleton of a battalion that Lieut.-Colonel Warrender led down the New German Road to Bottom Wood on the morning of the 20th September. Round a huge bonfire these remnants threw themselves down to get their first rest since leaving Becourt Wood, and here a pause was made to count the cost of what was so far the greatest trial of the Civil Service Rifles and, at the same time, surely their greatest achievement.
To this day, High Wood is regarded by many as the finest performance of the Battalion during the war. But whether this is true or no, it is certain that this battle was the most distinctive landmark in the history of the Civil Service Rifles, for it was at High Wood where the first great changes took place in the personnel of the Battalion. Some say it was the last of the original Battalion, but such a statement is open to question.
Many old faces had gone, but the old spirit still remained, and there were enough old hands left to train drafts in the way they should go, and to tell them what manner of men they had been whose places these freshmen had the honour to fill.
There fell during the fighting at High Wood, so many of the real flower of the Battalion that it is impossible to do justice to them by any eulogy here, and it would be invidious to single out any in particular among so many illustrious dead. Their names will all be found recorded elsewhere. Suffice it to say that they died like the true Englishmen of tradition, every one gallantly and gamely carrying on against odds. In the four days the casualties amounted to 15 officers, 365 other ranks.
XI. EAUCOURT L’ABBE AND THE BUTTE DE WARLENCOURT
The so-called camp in Bottom Wood was the essence of discomfort, but after a meal and a few hours rest, a welcome move was made in the evening of the 20th September to Albert, where one night was spent in deserted houses.
The march was continued the following day, and the Battalion arrived at a tented camp in a wood just outside the village of Henencourt, where Corps Headquarters was situated in a magnificent château, the grounds of which were a replica of those of the Palace of Versailles. There was little to suggest the luxury of Versailles, however, in the camp occupied by the Civil Service Rifles, for although the Battalion was depleted, the accommodation was scarce and every one was crowded.
The process of refitting and reorganisation was begun, and to a draft of one officer and 375 other ranks, who joined at Henencourt was added a fair sprinkling of officers, N.C.O.’s and men who had missed High Wood through leave, courses, or other causes. Thus the strength of the Battalion was restored on paper, but in actual fact it was still but a shadow of its former self.
The officers spent most of their time at Henencourt Wood in writing letters of condolence to bereaved parents, and the Company Quartermaster Sergeants and senior N.C.O.’s were busy packing up and sending off the personal effects of the killed and wounded, so that on the whole, the ten days’ sojourn in this camp was not a joyous one. The Divisional Follies tried to cheer things up by giving a show one evening, but the proceedings fell flat, and those who wanted a little diversion while the Battalion was at Henencourt sought it in Amiens.
The last day of the month of September, 1916, found the Civil Service Rifles once more on the way back to war, for after spending one night in Albert, they occupied some disused trenches, entirely devoid of dug-outs, in what was known as the Quadrangle, near Mametz Wood. Here they waited eagerly for news of the attack by the 141st Brigade on the village of Eaucourt L’Abbé, for which the 140th Brigade was in reserve.
Numerous contradictory reports reached Colonel Warrender during the few days spent in the Quadrangle, but at last it became known definitely that Eaucourt L’Abbé had been captured, and that the 140th Brigade would go there to relieve the 141st, but would only hold the line--there would not be any further attack!
The relief which took place on the night of the 4th October, when the Civil Service Rifles relieved the Poplar and Stepney Rifles in the Flers Line at Eaucourt L’Abbé, was an ordeal almost as trying as a battle.
The march from the Quadrangle began at 4.0 p.m. on the 4th, and the tail of the Battalion reached the Flers Line at dawn the next day. The event was so unique that no apology is offered for a somewhat lengthy description:--
All was going well until the corner of High Wood was reached, where, according to plan, guides would be picked up. There were, however, several corners to High Wood, and the Lewis gun limbers, mess cart and medical cart were not taken to the same corner as the one to which the Battalion went.
After a very long delay, while Lewis guns, etc., were carried through the wood from the limbers to the Battalion over many awkward obstacles such as wide trenches and barbed wire, a start was made by half the Battalion, and about two hours afterwards the remainder of the Battalion was ready. The way was along a track of sticky mud of the typical Somme variety. The night was pitch black and the men slipped about and frequently their feet stuck in the mud. It was often necessary for two men to pull at another man to get him out of the mud, and as they got their man out they found themselves stuck in in turn. At one time Colonel Warrender was heard to tell the M.O. that a man had fallen down, but he feared it was no use going back to him “as he must have been trampled in by now.” The progress along the track, slow as it was, became slower still when one after another the guides announced that they were lost and had not the slightest idea in which direction to go. A touch of humour crept into the adventure when Colonel Warrender, addressing a guide who said he hadn’t the remotest idea where he was, told him to go back to his Commanding Officer and report that he was of no use!
After many hours the Cough Drop was reached by the party bringing up the rear, which included Battalion Headquarters, and here one of the other Companies was met coming in the opposite direction. They, too, had a guide who was lost. The Adjutant now took up the running alone and plunged into the darkness on an exploring tour. He soon came back, and then led the whole party, now consisting of a good many more than half the Battalion, through Drop Alley to the Flers Line. The going now began to tell on the exhausted troops and several there were who collapsed unconscious in Drop Alley, weighed down by the heavy loads they were carrying, and did not finish their journey until the following day.
The Flers Line is chiefly remembered for the number of dead, both English and German, who were still lying about on the floor of the trench and on all the firesteps. There were a few hurriedly-made dug-outs, but these were in such a filthy state as to be unfit to occupy, and although much hard work was done for the next two days, the cleaning of the trench was still unfinished when the troops learnt to their astonishment, on the 7th of October, that they were to attack the Butte de Warlencourt and the Warlencourt Line--an objective some 2,800 yards distant.
Zero was at 2.0 p.m., and the Companies occupied the same relative positions as at High Wood, “A” Company again being on the right. The three Companies on the left were unfortunate once more, for they had to file through the village of Eaucourt l’Abbé soon after leaving their assembly trenches and extend into waves again after negotiating the village. They were caught by the full fury of the German artillery barrage, and those who got through the village were swept down by a most intense machine-gun fire. “A” Company on the right made some little progress, and after crossing the Eaucourt l’Abbé-Le Barque road dug a new line alongside the remnants of other units of the Division, all of whom had met a similar fate. Another attempt was made at night by the 142nd Brigade, but as these troops had not even seen the country in daylight, their attempt failed so completely that they were all withdrawn shortly after zero.
The attack on the Butte de Warlencourt failed, like many attacks subsequently delivered by other Divisions, and the famous Butte did not fall into English hands until the German retreat from the Somme battlefield during the winter of 1916-17.
The attack of the 7th of October differed in many respects from that of the 15th of September. On this occasion there had been no training, no rehearsal over a marked-out course, and in fact some of the troops did not even know there was to be an attack until an hour or so before zero. Even then there were many who were not sure what was the objective. To this day there are some in the Civil Service Rifles who talk of it as the attack on Eaucourt l’Abbé. There was an artillery creeping barrage on this occasion, it is true, but as it moved at the rate of 100 yards per minute and there were 2,800 yards between the jumping-off trenches and the objective, the advancing waves of infantry soon got badly left behind. Tanks were said to be co-operating, but nothing was seen of them.
There were only two officers per Company present on this occasion, and the C.S.M. and one or two senior N.C.O.’s of each Company were kept out of the fight, so the experienced soldier was in a distinct minority. More than half of the Battalion had never been under fire before, and, as these had only joined a few days previously, a good many of them were not known even by name to the older members of their Platoons. Thus it came about that many men were reported missing on this occasion, and, as none of the survivors knew them, it was impossible to say with any certainty where they had last been seen.
The losses on the 7th of October amounted to five officers, 344 other ranks, and although numerically they are not quite so great as at High Wood, it should be remembered that on this occasion the Battalion was not more than 500 strong at the outset.
During the operations around Eaucourt l’Abbé there was one member of the regiment who added to his already brilliant reputation as a soldier. The work of Lieutenant W. E. Ind on this occasion was more than wonderful. Quickly grasping the situation when the attack failed, by his hard work and resourcefulness he succeeded in restoring something like order out of chaos, not only in his own unit but also in several neighbouring units.
The relief by the 7th Seaforth Highlanders on the 9th of October was a welcome contrast to the previous relief in this sector. The troops quickly found their way out and before midnight had reached the transport lines in Bottom Wood.
Three nights were spent in Albert before the Division entrained on the 13th of October for Longpré, near Abbeville, en route for the Ypres Salient.
Before leaving Albert, the Quartermaster aroused the wrathful indignation of the C.Q.M.S.’s by the issue of a quantity of clothing and equipment which had been applied for at Henencourt. Many of the men for whom it was intended had now become casualties, but that made no difference to the Quartermaster’s stores of the Civil Service Rifles. The most important article of clothing was the clean shirt which was issued just before leaving Albert. The troops had not had a clean shirt for many weeks, and the one they discarded was naturally somewhat the worse for wear. One C.Q.M.S. on inquiring at the Orderly Room what should be done with the old shirts was told by an Orderly Room clerk to burn them. The clerk was trying to be funny, but the Q.M.S. missed the point of his humour, and all Companies thereupon threw their old shirts on the dust heap. When he was demobilised some years later the C.Q.M.S. was still explaining to the authorities why he had destroyed his ultra lousy shirts.
The train journey from Albert to Longpré is surely a record even for the R.O.D. A distance of just over thirty miles was covered in the astonishingly short time of twenty-six hours, during which time many men had left the train, dined in Amiens, visited the local cinema, and still caught the train up again without being recorded as absent. Indeed, during one part of the journey there seemed to be more men walking than were riding. At the same time every one seemed conscious of the fact that he had said good-bye to the dreaded Somme battlefield, so few felt disposed to complain of the shortcomings of the R.O.D.
After detraining at Longpré, two happy days were spent in the village of Villers-sous-Ailly. The men received a hearty welcome from the natives and M. le Maire, who seemed to be the greatest French authority on the organisation of an English infantry battalion. This worthy was very popular with the billeting party, for he had his village completely mapped out, and could tell them whether a particular barn was big enough to hold a platoon, a section, or a Lewis gun team.
The Battalion returned to Longpré on the 16th of October and entrained for Caestre, which was reached in the early hours of the following morning, whence a long and uninteresting march brought the Battalion to scattered billets outside the village of Boeschepe, and after another long march on the 19th, the Civil Service Rifles relieved the 16th Battalion Australian Infantry in support to what was called the Bluff Sub-sector (or Canal Sub-sector) south of Ypres, and close to what had once been the Ypres-Comines canal.
XII. A REST CURE IN THE YPRES SALIENT
To those whose memories of Ypres are only associated with thoughts of mud and slaughter, and who at the mention of the word “Salient” instinctively think of the horrors of Passchendaele, the Menin Road and Hooge, it will seem incredible that there was a time during the war when the Ypres Salient was peaceful and quiet, a place where Divisions, shattered on the Somme, came for recuperation.
It was in such a state that the 47th Division found the Ypres Salient in October, 1916, and after what had been endured in the previous month, it was particularly welcome.
In the Civil Service Rifles reconstruction had only just begun. No drafts had reached the Battalion, which was very much below strength. Some Companies had only one officer, the Company Commander, and practically no N.C.O.’s above the rank of Lance-Corporal. It was well, therefore, that there was no fighting and the sound of a shell was the exception rather than the rule.
The Division had had no experience of trench warfare for some months, and when the Civil Service Rifles on the 24th of October, 1916, relieved the Post Office Rifles in the front line in what was called the Ravine, a section of the Bluff Sector, they found several features of trench warfare which were quite new to them.
In the first place, each Company had a cookhouse in the trenches, and the Company cooks came in with their Companies and cooked all the meals on the spot. Rations were pushed up almost to Company Headquarters in trucks along a light railway, and there was a dump of R.E. material actually in the Battalion area. These were all amenities of trench life hitherto unknown, and all helped to convey the idea that the Civil Service Rifles were making a new start in life. These conditions helped materially to restore the confidence and fighting spirit of troops who were rapidly approaching the “fed-up” state.
The trenches were mostly sandbagged barricades such as had been seen as Festubert, but here they were neatly revetted with expanded metal, and although there was a good deal of water, all the trench floors were boarded. There were recesses labelled for bombs and S.A.A., and although the trench shelters were not by any means shell-proof, the majority at least were weatherproof.
There were many ambitious schemes for winter comforts. A Brigade gum boot store with lots of thigh gum boots was already established, and large shelters were being erected in each Battalion area as drying rooms, where men would be able to dry their clothes. These shelters, however, never got into working order. Another novelty was the precaution taken to prevent trench feet or frost bite. It was arranged that every man should change his socks and rub his feet with whale oil every day, the old socks being sent down every night and exchanged at the Divisional Laundry for alleged clean ones which were brought up with rations the following night.
Thus it was hoped to combat some of the evils which beset the Army during the previous winter, and there is no doubt that these measures bore good fruit, for the losses through sickness during the winter of 1916-17 were less than half those of the previous winter.
But although the prospect at the beginning of winter was very bright, and the troops were looking forward confidently to a spell of quiet life, it was not long before things began to liven up, as though the Ypres Salient had begun to look to its reputation.
The change was first noticeable when, on returning to the front line after a few days in Divisional Reserve at Ottawa Camp, near the village of Ouderdom, the Battalion took over a section of the front line in what was called the Hill 60 Sector, on the 13th of November.
These trenches differed in many respects from those in the Ravine, in spite of the fact that they were practically adjacent. Mining activities were carried on here on a very elaborate scale, and there were several deep tunnels, some, it was said, running as far forward as the German front line on Hill 60 itself. These tunnels were all being worked by one of the Australian Tunnelling Companies, to whom working parties were sent day and night. The main line of the Ypres-Roulers railway ran through the sector, and the old railway cutting formed the right boundary of the Battalion front. The trenches had been in existence for many months, and owing to the continual bombardments, the ravages of weather, and the quaint ideas of sanitation of former occupants of the sector, the area could hardly claim to be a health resort. Large fat rats abounded in and around every trench, and so fat were they that they had lost their turn of speed, and fell easy victims to any who could find time to hunt them. Bully beef and Maconochie’s famous meat and vegetable rations were to be found everywhere. Some men say that these were often used in place of trench boards.
Those working in the tunnels with the Australians were impressed, almost awestruck, by the magnitude of the mining operations, which they felt sure would end one day in a miniature earthquake, and they fervently hoped they would be at a safe distance when that should happen. The tunnels were lighted by electricity, the power for which was produced by a gas engine installed underground. A privileged few were allowed to explore the wonderful Berlin Sap, a long tunnel which stretched from some distance in rear of Battalion Headquarters to the German lines.
But it must not be imagined that the troops enjoyed home comforts in this area. The Companies holding the left of the Battalion front had practically no protection from either shell fire or weather, and those who have occupied the curiously-named Metropolitan Left and Metropolitan Right will be ready to swear that there was no more miserable place on the western front. They were, however, little better off than those who were stowed away in the tunnels of Marshall Walk, where the atmosphere reduced the occupants, packed in tight, to a state of coma.
The enemy had now begun to bombard the area fiercely with various kinds of shells and minenwerfer bombs, but fortunately he was kind enough, at first at all events, to limit his bombardments strictly to certain hours of the day. His special effort was always served up during the two hours after lunch, and strangely enough it was mostly bestowed on the Marshall Walk area, where the troops were able to squeeze into the tunnels. The men in other parts of the line had to sit under a ground sheet or a bit or corrugated iron and hope that nothing would come their way. In this way five somewhat anxious days were endured with comparatively few casualties before the Battalion moved into support in another of the wonders of the Ypres Salient--the Railway Dug-outs. These were dug-outs formed by tunnelling into the railway embankment between the village of Zillebeke and Ypres itself. Half the Battalion was accommodated here, the men occupying wire beds which were erected in tiers. The atmosphere was thick, to say the least, and fatigue parties were frequently told off to try to fan the foul air out with gas fans. The other two Companies were at Battersea Farm and Château Belge.
The Railway Dug-outs area had its advantages, however, for there was little shelling and there were opportunities during the day to wander out into the fresh air, to visit the Brigade canteen, and sometimes to visit the ruins of the historic city of Ypres. The working parties at night were employed in pushing trucks of R.E. material along what remained of the railway line to the ration dump of the front line Battalion, in the Hill 60 sector. On the whole the five days at Railway Dug-outs were written down as not too bad, and after five more days in the front line in Hill 60 sector, the end of November saw the Battalion in Divisional Reserve in the huts at Ottawa Camp.
The Division had now settled down to a very stereotyped form of warfare, and as there seemed every likelihood that no move would take place for some months, an elaborate programme of work for improving the accommodation both in trenches and camps was embarked upon.
There were two Brigades holding the line and one in reserve occupying four hutted camps in the neighbourhood of the villages of Ouderdom and Busseboom. It was arranged that whenever a Brigade was in reserve, the various Battalions should always go to the same camp. So it came about that the Civil Service Rifles always went to Ottawa Camp. This arrangement, it was hoped, would encourage Battalions to work hard at camp improvements. Works Officers were appointed and pioneer platoons were detailed in each Company for this purpose, but every time the Civil Service Rifles returned to Ottawa Camp they swore no work had been done since they were last there.
Somebody did work in Ottawa Camp, however, for in course of time it became transformed from the sea of mud, with a collection of broken-down, draughty huts, into a tolerably comfortable camp--if any camp in Belgium could be comfortable. The Battalion Mess for sergeants was revived, and under the stewardship of Sergeant R. F. M. Bigby, a fairly successful attempt was made to restore the former glory of the Civil Service Rifles Sergeants’ Mess.
In looking back on the year spent in the Ypres Salient, the average member of the Civil Service Rifles, full of the bitter memories of the Menin Road, Hooge and Château Wood, is apt to forget that there was a time when life was quite enjoyable in Ottawa Camp, with the trips to Poperinghe, where there was much gaiety.
It is quite true, however, that at first Ottawa Camp was better known for its discomfort than for anything else, and it was a curious fact that Halifax Camp, which was the home of one of the Support Battalions of a Brigade holding the front line, was much more comfortable.
The month of December 1916 is chiefly notable for the formation of what was known as the “football team”--two officers (Second Lieutenants H. S. Gosney and C. E. Groves) and fifty other ranks. This team began to train for a raid on the German trenches, when they hoped to atone for the ill-luck which had attended previous Civil Service Rifles’ raids.
The party was housed in reserve dug-outs in the trenches about Château Ségard, one of the support positions for the Ravine sector, and in addition to training in the surrounding trenches after dark, parties went up to the front line nightly to patrol No Man’s Land and inspect the enemy wire.
The scheme was entered into with enthusiasm by the whole party, which was split up into six groups, each with a definite job to do, and they were all brim full of confidence when, at 5.45 p.m. on the 23rd of December, they set out from the front line on their adventure--to the strains of music from a violin in the German lines!
The troops entered the German front line safely enough and worked their way round the appointed area. The opposition, not very strong, was quickly overcome, but no prisoners could be brought back. Two Bosches did get as far as the parapet but there they decided to stay, and as nothing would induce them to come over, “they had to be disposed of,” as one of the N.C.O.’s afterwards said in his report.
The return home at the appointed time was carried out successfully and as numerous identifications were brought back, the object of the raid had been achieved. The casualties were very few, but unfortunately they included two killed--Lance-Corporal A. T. C. Geary and Private A. F. Pearson.
The success of the raid put the whole party in good spirits for Christmas, which, as in 1915, was spent in the trenches. The Christmas celebrations duly took place, however, early in January at Ottawa Camp, when each Company had a Christmas dinner and concert. The festival lacked nothing on account of the postponement, and in many sections of the Battalion it was kept up for several days. To celebrate their success the survivors of the raid were given a dinner at which the heroes of the evening were Lance-Sergeant H. J. Steele and Corporal J. H. Swain, who had both been awarded the M.M.
XIII. THE SALIENT IN WINTER
Life in the Ypres Salient could now no longer be described as a rest cure, for in addition to increased activity on both sides in the line, the weather was of the real wintry type.
The trenches, where there had been “water, water, everywhere,” had become ice-bound, and remained so for many weeks. Trench stores were often taken over by a C.S.M. who could scarcely see them through the ice, but who was told that he would “find they were all right when the thaw came.”
To complete the wintry scene, snow had fallen and cast a mantle of white over the ugly sights of war. The Ravine certainly looked pretty now, with the feathery snowflakes glistening on the trees, and here and there an icicle giving the genuine Christmas-card impression. No Man’s Land, too, has rarely looked more picturesque with the festoons of barbed wire daintily picked out in white. Yes, it was a beautiful scene on a moonlight night in January 1917, but the sentry on the firestep in the front line, with feet frozen, nose, ears and hands feeling as though they were about to drop off, had no eye for such beauty. His idea of beauty at the time was a little so-called dug-out, with a ground sheet or an old post bag (contrary to G.R.O. “XYZ”) hanging over the entrance, and inside a glorious warm “fug” with three or four of his pals stewing in the fumes given off by a tiny brazier. It was so cold on the firestep and the front line trenches were so near to each other, that he daren’t stamp his feet, for fear of being heard in the German line. Not that it mattered a great deal about being heard, thought the sentry, for with his hands in such a frozen state that he did not know whether he was holding his rifle or not, he couldn’t do much to stop the Bosche if he did come over to-night. Things would not be much better when the Battalion was relieved. He supposed it would be Ottawa Camp again, where it was bitterly cold and the Quartermaster would never give you any fuel. Why couldn’t he have a job like “Posh Harry” at the Brigade School, he wondered? At any rate, there would be a comfortable billet there, and a fire. He must get a stripe, that’s what it came to, and then if he could not get a job at the Brigade School or at the Divisional School in Poperinghe, at any rate he might get sent there on a course. He was fed up with this life, he was sure, and when his turn of sentry duty was finished and he was promptly put on an ice-breaking fatigue, he began to think that there was some sense after all in the peace talk that one read of in the newspapers at this time. If only they would talk about it seriously! But what could one expect when the newspaper folk described the peace talk as “an insult to Tommy in the trenches”?
Meditations such as the foregoing were not uncommon in the early part of 1917, when the wintry weather was almost the sole topic of conversation. But what was dreaded more than the frost and snow was the thaw which would follow, and how every man prayed that his Battalion would move into Divisional Reserve the day the thaw came!
Before the thaw came, however, the Civil Service Rifles were to have a little excitement in the front line, for one night in the middle of January, the Bosche, who had evidently been reading the story of the escape of Mary Queen of Scots from Lochleven Castle, had attired his patrols in white raiment and sent them out across the snow. The trick came off, and the Bosches entered the trench known as Berry Post, inflicted casualties on the garrison, and got back to their own lines unhurt.
This feat so impressed the authorities that by the time the thaw had fairly set in, white patrol jackets were awaiting collection from ordnance.
Many Transport men have unpleasant recollections of nights on this sector, where rations were taken up to the front line in trucks drawn by mules on the light railways from Woodcote Farm. In theory, loaded trucks were picked up at the Farm and hauled to the Ravine or elsewhere, there unloaded, and taken back to be ready for use next day. In practice, the trucks were usually at the wrong end of the railway to start with; and when obtained they invariably came off the rails at intervals on the up-journey--to a chorus of curses from the accompanying fatigue party. Drivers have bitter memories of nights when shelling occurred while trucks were off the rails. They admit that it was only human for the fatigue party to go to ground; but they still cannot see how one man could be expected to manage a distracted mule and also unload, re-rail and re-load a truck of trenchboards.
It was here that Onions, chief Bolshevik of the Battalion mules was lost. After the line had been broken by shell-fire, she was sent up at dawn to bring back stranded trucks. Enemy observers traced her back to Brisbane Dump and sent out an S.O.S. reporting her presence there. Onions left hastily with a dislike of barrage fire and a wound in the head, and was sent forthwith to the Base to be seen no more by the Civil Service Rifles.
* * * * *
Small drafts were continually arriving during the winter of 1916-17, and they often included several old N.C.O.’s and men of the original Battalion, who were coming out for their second trip to France. Such men were generally given a rousing send off by their companions at Hazeley Down Camp, Winchester, where the Reserve Battalion was stationed. The war cry of the returned warriors at the time was “Everybody once, before anybody twice” and the unofficial flag, known as the “Twicers” Flag, which was usually carried aloft on the march to the station, has since been framed, and now hangs in the Civil Service Rifles’ Club to commemorate the once famous “F” Company of the Civil Service Rifles Reserve Battalion.
For some unknown reason the officers joining the Battalion belonged to regiments outside London. There were representatives of the various Battalions of the Manchester Regiment, the Northern Cyclists and the Hampshire Regiment. In fact, so many changes had taken place among the officers of the Battalion, that by February, 1917, not a single one remained of those who had embarked as officers in March 1915.
An interesting innovation during the early weeks of 1917, was the starting of a Regimental Drum and Fife Band. The R. S. M. called it a Corps of Drums, the troops knew it at first as those----tin whistles, but under the leadership of Sergeant Drummer Harmon, the Regimental Band became an accomplished fact, and the Civil Service Rifles had music on the march for the first time since coming to France--except for the early spring of 1916, when “Mattie” Hull conducted a mouth organ and tin whistle band among the Lewis gunners.
A change from the eternal round of trench life came about towards the end of February, when it fell to the lot of the Civil Service Rifles to act for one month as Works Battalion in the Tenth Corps area. The Companies were scattered over a very wide area, “A” being at Château Belge, near Kruistraathoeke, “B” at Coppernollehoek and Poperinghe, “C” at Pacific Sidings between Busseboom and Poperinghe, and “D” at Vancouver Camp, close to Vlamertinghe. Battalion Headquarters remained at Ottawa Camp. The Companies were employed daily on working parties, chiefly under the Canadian Railway Construction Company, on work connected with the laying of a light railway from Poperinghe to the forward area. After the discomforts of trench life, the change was very welcome, particularly with “B” Company, who had rather wonderful billets, and “C” Company, who were all under one roof within easy distance of Poperinghe.
The Companies were still scattered on the 17th of March, so it was not possible for the Battalion to celebrate the day with a united gathering, but “C” Company had a very successful show at Pacific Siding which was attended by representatives from all the other Companies. The Sergeants held a belated but very hearty celebration on another day, and a party from “B” Company held a dinner in Poperinghe.
* * * * *
Throughout the first six months of the time spent in the Ypres Salient, the Transport Lines were established at a typical Belgian farm, and consequently no gathering of Transport men is now complete without a few tales of Delanotte Farm.
In addition to the Transport, the Quartermaster and his staff spent a good deal of their time at Delanotte Farm, where also the Civil Service Rifles’ dentist, Corporal E. Pitt, was installed with all his stock in trade. The Civil Service Rifles claim to be unique among Infantry Battalions in the B. E. F. in that they alone possessed their own dentist, who, although fully qualified, was primarily an infantryman and was not one of the R. A. M. C. attached.
During his service in France, Corporal Pitt has attended to a distinguished clientele, including at least one Brigadier General, but he showed no class distinctions in his dental chair, and the humble private was always sure of just as careful treatment as was given to his Brigadier.
Pitt often had to work amid strange surroundings, but his surgery at Delanotte Farm was perhaps his best known home, and one of his patients has recorded his impressions of it:
“In the last great European War the ambitious Emperor who may be regarded as the Kaiser’s prototype stated that an army marched on its stomach. But what is a stomach without its teeth? (vide any advertisements of ‘a complete set from one guinea upwards’). At any rate the British Army has come to regard the teeth of its lads as anxiously as the fond mother regards her little one’s chewing organs. These few remarks will serve to introduce our hero.
“Imagine a brick farm-house in a part of Belgium where the mud is too muddy for words. The house nestles in a swamp of green viscous slime. This was for many months the locale of the C. S. R. Transport while the boys were disporting themselves in the ditches (misnamed ‘trenches’) in the Ypres district. The room of the farmhouse was of fairly decent size, with a low ceiling supported by stout smoke-grimed beams. It was always well patronised by the lads of the Transport, who would discuss the inevitable eggs and chips and sip their coffee or beer all day long. At a large sink by the window the good lady of the house, assisted variously by a submissive husband, a daughter (who could by no stretch of imagination be called a coquette!) and a son, seemed eternally engaged either in preparing a salad of chickweed and groundsel (or so it seemed), or in counting the stock of dried haricots. In the other corner by the window, there was a complete dental establishment installed. This was the scene of the labours of the indefatigable Pitt, and there was nothing of the horse-doctor’s methods about him. I can assure you that he wielded the cocaine-injecting needle as expertly as the one and only Sherlock himself. Did you want a tooth scraped or stopped, or filled, or coddled in any way whatever, our dentist would say ‘right,’ and place a fresh cigarette in his holder (would that I received a royalty on the cigarettes he smoked!) Then he would select some fearsome-looking--but really harmless--instruments from his plenteous stock, and carry on. His sideline (something like the ‘making bricks in spare time’ stunt) was treating cases that would ordinarily fall to the care of the M.O. if he were available. It was surprising how the fame of Pitt spread near and far; and many and various were his clients. The amusing part was the complete nonchalance of the people of the house. They would carry on their weird and wonderful culinary processes at the sink while the amateur doctor extracted teeth and poured away bloody water and rinsed foul dressings under their very noses. In this atmosphere of eggs and chips, steaming coffee, stale beer, tobacco smoke, flies, and sometimes washing, Pitt carried on his labours day by day, month by month, until the Battalion was sent away to happier (?) hunting grounds....
“Jolly old Pitt! How many of us had cause to bless the fact that we could go to him for healing balm in our time of bitter sorrow!”
* * * * *
The Battalion was reassembled after being employed for a month as Works Battalion, and on the 21st of March renewed its acquaintance with the front line trenches in the Ravine. The trenches were no longer ice-bound, but the official first day of Spring did not live up to its name, for snow and sleet fell throughout the night. Eight uneventful days in the Ravine were followed by a similar period in support in the neighbourhood of Swan Château and Château Segard. Hitherto when the Battalion had been at Swan Château the chief recreation had been sliding on the pond in the château grounds. Captain Ind, in fact, made a nightly practice of leading Headquarter Company in sliding on the ice by moonlight. On this occasion, however, boating and fishing were freely indulged in. There was an odd looking craft on the pond, which was in great demand, and the most popular bait for the fish seemed to be a Mills bomb--though this bait was not sanctioned by the B. E. F. Angling Society. It was in fact forbidden by G.R.O., so it naturally follows that no angler was ever known to use the bait.
Any man who thought the Battalion had come to the Ypres Salient for boating and fishing, however, was rudely disillusioned when a return was made to the front line in the familiar Ravine. The London Irish had just finished a big raid on the German lines when the Civil Service Rifles relieved them on the night of the 7th of April, and henceforth things livened up very considerably in this sector, where life had previously been tolerably quiet. The Bosche now bombarded furiously, and on the 9th of April (Easter Monday) he raided the Battalion on the immediate left of the Civil Service Rifles, causing pretty heavy casualties. The raid took place at 6.30 p.m. and the accompanying fireworks were kept up throughout the night. As a sample of the frightfulness that could be served up in the Salient, it was fairly complete, and the Civil Service Rifles, although not in the raided trenches, lost thirteen killed and eighteen wounded during the night.
The Division very soon afterwards had to take over a little more of the line immediately south of the Ypres-Comines Canal, known as the Spoil Bank Sector, and as it meant giving up the hated Hill 60 Sector, the change was a very popular one.
Ottawa Camp now came within the area of another Division, and the Civil Service Rifles, on being relieved on the 12th of April by the First Surrey Rifles, moved into Divisional Reserve in Devonshire Camp, near Busseboom.
Early in April rumours of a big Spring offensive began to relieve the monotony, and the story was passed from one to another in strict confidence that the Civil Service Rifles would soon attack a château in a wood just south of the canal, where the Adjutant was of opinion that “we shall have some interesting wood fighting.”
The next trip to the front line was to the Spoil Bank section itself, whence rumour had it that the attack would some day be launched, and amateur tacticians were thus able to study the scheme on the spot. A preliminary reconnaissance generally ended in the observer hoping he would be away on leave or on a course when the attack should eventually take place.
An unsuccessful attempt at a raid by the enemy at 4.30 a.m. on the 25th April was the only incident of note in a somewhat uninteresting stay in the front line, where nearly every trench appeared to be open to direct observation from the Bosche. The mystery about the Spoil Bank sector, with its trenches so open and devoid of shelter, was that in five days there were only eight casualties, all of which occurred during the enemy’s attempted raid. The bombardment during the raid was such as to make every man look forward with more than usual keenness to the relief on the following night by the 6th Battalion, when the Civil Service Rifles moved to Dominion Camp, adjoining Devonshire Camp.
XIV. THE MORINGHEM TREK
A long stay of eleven days in Dominion Lines ended with a return to the Support positions around Swan Château on the 8th of May, but only three days were spent here (during which time there were thirteen casualties, an unusually high number for the comparative safety of support positions) before the Battalion was relieved by the Poplar and Stepneys, and moved back to the village of Dickebusch for two days, before starting on the “Moringhem Trek,” the first affair of its kind since the memorable trek to the Somme.
The trek began on the 13th of May with a march to the village of Watou, and the old soldier now knew that he would soon be taking part in an attack. “They’re not taking us all this way for exercise, or simply for our amusement” he told the latest joined recruit as they marched along, “but it’s worth it to get away from the Salient for a few days and to see the civvies once more without any fear of shelling. And remember, when we go over the odds are generally about four to one on a blighty, so don’t worry.”
The billets were good in Watou, but they were even better in the village of Sercus, where the Battalion, after marching through Hazebrouck, spent the second night. General regret was felt that only one night was spent in this village, and on the third day, after passing through Arques and St. Omer, the training area was reached and the Companies were billeted in the village of Moringhem and the neighbouring villages. On the whole the billets were poor and uncomfortable, besides being scattered. “A” and Headquarters Company were in Moringhem itself, “B” and “C” were about a mile and a half away in Petit Difques, and “D” were in the little hamlet of Cuslinghem.
It was announced that about three weeks would be spent in this district, and a somewhat ambitious programme of sports and recreation was drawn up. The training was often finished soon after mid-day. An inter-platoon football competition was started, and preliminary heats for the Battalion Sports Meeting, to be held on the 20th of May, were run off during the early days of the “holiday.”
The Brigadier having expressed a wish that officers and men should be given facilities to visit St. Omer, parties were made up each day for that purpose. The men generally went in G.S. wagons and limbers, and the officers usually returned a voiture.
A novelty in Regimental Sports was introduced on the 19th of May at what was reported in the Financial Times as the Moringhem May Meeting, when the only event was a horse race for officers’ chargers.
The race took place after church parade, and was over a five furlong course behind the village church. Unfortunately, one or two of the starters were not quite sure where the course was, and consequently several horses had to wait at “the tapes” while Battalion orderlies scoured the village for missing runners and jockeys. More unfortunate still was the experience of the “bookie” who, at great trouble, had secured costumes for himself and his clerk, but who spent the morning wandering about the neighbouring hills, vainly searching for the course, and cursing his clerk for a fool.
Lieutenant Craig, the Transport Officer, acted as starter to a field of seven. The Adjutant’s horse, Bunty, was first away, but his jockey lost a stirrup and could not keep the lead. Entering the straight, the Medical Officer (Captain C. M. Gozney) on the Boy, was in front, and, shaking off the challenge by Bunty and Sunshine, he rode a good race and won by a short head from the former, with Sunshine (ridden by Captain F. D. Balfour) close up third. The winner started at 5-2, Bunty at 3-1, and Sunshine at 100-3. The favourite Polly (5-4), ridden by Captain Bowers Taylor, a heavyweight jockey, was quite unable to give the weight away to the leaders. The bookie, it should be mentioned, arrived on the course just in time to “pay out,” as there had been considerable ante-post betting, and all the placed horses had been well backed.
The Battalion Sports Meeting on the following day was marred by orders to send off a digging party of 200 other ranks to dig trenches on the training ground. The whole Battalion had turned up on the Transport Field, and cookers were in attendance so that tea could be had on the ground, but after the departure of the working party, interest in the Sports died down, and the crowd, somewhat disappointed, filtered away.
Much keener interest was taken in the Inter-platoon football competition, in the final of which Numbers 5 and 15 Platoons met three times at Moringhem without being able to come to a decision. Two hours exciting play on each of the first two occasions failed to produce even a goal, but at the third meeting, play actually continued until Lights Out, when the score was two goals all. It should, perhaps, be mentioned that in these days of summer time it was not uncommon for Lights Out to be sounded while it was still daylight. The football final was not decided until after the Battalion had been in the front line. The score on that occasion, when Number 15 Platoon won by no less than nine goals to nothing, was an eloquent but sad testimony to what had happened since the three drawn games at Moringhem.
The stay at Moringhem differed in many respects from the preparation for the Somme battle in 1916. On this occasion the Division marched straight to its training ground, which was reached in three days. The marked out course quickly made its appearance, and it was made known at the outset that the 140th Brigade was training for the attack on the German positions around the White Château, just south of the Canal, near Hollebeke. Moreover, the “non-starters” were selected at the beginning of the training, and the rehearsals were carried out with the officers, N.C.O.’s and men who were going to take part in the actual attack.
The training was nothing like so strenuous as that for the High Wood battle, and the men thus finished their day’s work with sufficient energy left for football and other sports in the evening. In one respect the experience of the Somme preparation was repeated. The Adjutant, Captain W. E. Ind, M.C., threw himself whole heartedly and enthusiastically into the work of training the Battalion and had very quickly mastered every detail of the scheme. It was very largely due to his efforts that the Civil Service Rifles left Moringhem thoroughly prepared for their share in the battle and so full of confidence in their success.
On the whole a very happy time had been spent at Moringhem, and there was no great anxiety to leave the place on the 31st of May, when the Battalion returned by train from St. Omer to Poperinghe, where, as they marched out of the station, the troops were greeted at once with a few shells--just as a reminder that they were back in the Salient.
The discomforts of the Ypres Salient were rarely more forcibly illustrated than on the afternoon of the arrival at the so-called tented camp in Dominion Lines. The march from Poperinghe Station took place in the afternoon, and the Battalion marched into Dominion Lines with visions of a comfortable camp and a welcome cup of tea! The men were doomed to disappointment, for the “camp” proved to be a strip of waste ground, very dusty, and without even a blade of grass on it. There were a few bivouac sheets to be issued to each Company, and there were about three bell tents for officers. Beyond this there was not a stick of camp equipment of any kind. The disappointment was all the keener because the Area Commandant was a Civil Service Rifles officer, and it was thought he might have treated his own Regiment a little better. The other three Battalions of the Brigade were comfortably housed in huts.
The country all around presented a very different aspect from that seen in the autumn of 1916, when the Division came to Ypres for a rest. On all sides one now saw signs of the coming offensive. The roads were lined with big ammunition dumps, a few of which were blown up nightly by Bosche artillery fire, which had increased very considerably during the past month. The English artillery, too, had increased their activity, and some wonderful bombardments were witnessed both by day and night. The Bosche, in fact, could not have had much doubt of what was in store for him. The only doubt in his mind would be how much longer he would be allowed to remain in his front line trenches.
A mysterious-looking enclosure, marked “Segregated Area,” attracted a good deal of attention from the curious among the troops, who, after reading the notice outside, that no horses could be admitted, discovered that many tanks were housed there. Members of the Civil Service Rifles who had been on the Somme heaved a sigh of relief when they learnt that, although tanks were co-operating in the coming attack, none were allotted a definite part in the task of their Battalion.
The 2nd of June was devoted to final preparations for the battle. Officers got their men together for a little extra talk, and all ranks eagerly studied maps and aeroplane photographs, of which there was a generous supply and which showed clearly how thoroughly the artillery had prepared the way. There was an atmosphere of suppressed excitement similar to that of the days before High Wood, but on this occasion there was greater confidence, inspired by the unmistakable evidence on all sides of the magnificent work of the artillery and the Air Force.
Company Commanders went up to reconnoitre the support positions which the Battalion was to occupy the next day, and working parties were sent out along the cross-country tracks, which had been made to ease the traffic along the roads. These parties were occupied all day in the pleasant task of filling up the shell holes which the Bosche had made overnight.
The battle surplus to be left behind when an Infantry Battalion took part in an attack had by this time been clearly defined by General Headquarters, and consequently a large party of “non-starters” joined the Divisional Reinforcement Camp before the Battalion left for the trenches on the 3rd of June. These included, in addition to two of the regular Company Commanders, representatives of every platoon and specialist section in the Battalion-picked N.C.O.’s and men who would form a worthy nucleus on which to build a new Battalion in the event of heavy casualties being suffered. The Divisional Reinforcement Camp was commanded by Lieut.-Colonel Warrender, who had left the Civil Service Rifles the previous November to command the 47th Divisional School at Poperinghe.
Chapter XV
MESSINES--7TH JUNE, 1917
The Regimental Diary gives a detailed description of the career of the Civil Service Rifles from the time of leaving Dominion Lines on the night of the 3rd of June to the return from the trenches after the battle:--
“Just before we started for the trenches at 10.0 p.m., the Bosche dropped a few big shells on the track near the segregated area, so it was felt that as we had to pass this point the war had started in earnest. Fortunately the whole Battalion passed this area without mishap, and the journey to the trenches was very quiet until we approached Café Belge, when we received a message that the Bosche was shelling that spot freely with gas shells. The information proved to be true, and the Battalion had its first experience of a real gas shell bombardment--happily without any casualties. We reached the support positions--trenches in the vicinity of Swan Château and Château Segard--without any further adventure, and after relieving the Poplar and Stepney Rifles, spent a quiet night in very crowded quarters.
“The Battalion spent three days in these trenches, and on the whole they were very pleasant. The weather was good, and there were practically no working parties, so the men got plenty of time for rest. The time was spent in such final preparation for the attack as issuing bombs, rifle grenades, ground flares, picks, shovels and chewing gum (one stick between two) and rations for ‘the day.’ The Company Commanders reconnoitred the assembly positions on the morning of the 6th, and by that afternoon everything was ready for the move up to the assembly trenches. The whole Battalion was in excellent spirit and every one was full of confidence. The men had taken a very keen interest in the orders and every man knew the part he had to play.
“We had a quiet move to the assembly trenches at night, and although the tracks and back areas were receiving their usual nightly ration of shells, there were no casualties.
“It was now known that the attack would be delivered at dawn, and the few hours before zero were spent in comparative peace. The trenches were those occupied by the Civil Service Rifles on their last visit to the front line. ‘A’ Company was in the old Lock House, near the Spoil Bank by the side of the Canal. The remaining Companies were on their right in West Terrace and Grenade Trench, in the order in which they were to attack. ‘D’ was on the right, ‘B’ next, ‘C’ next, and for the attack ‘A’ Company came out of the Lock House and formed the left flank.
“Zero for the great 2nd Army attack was at 3.10 a.m. on the 7th of June, but our Battalion took no part in the first phase. An hour before zero, all Company Commanders were to report to Battalion Headquarters to be on the spot if anything went wrong with the first phase. Battalion Headquarters was in a smelly, wet dug-out in West Terrace. It had walls of brick and some attempt at a concrete roof. The party assembled there consisted of the Commanding Officer, Lieutenant-Colonel H. Marshall (Hampshire Regiment), the Adjutant, Captain W. E. Ind, M.C., and the four Company Commanders--‘A’ Company, Captain A. Bowers Taylor (Manchester Regiment, attached); ‘B’ Company, Captain G. C. Grimsdale; ‘C’ Company, Second-Lieutenant P. Davenport; and ‘D’ Company, Second-Lieutenant G. Hasleham (Manchester Regiment, attached). The Signals Officer, Second-Lieutenant R. W. Illing and the Bombing Officer, Second-Lieutenant O. E. Burden, also hovered about, and there was the usual ‘chorus’ generally found hanging round Battalion Headquarters--servants, police, pioneers, signallers and runners. Wallis, the ‘head waiter,’ moved about as unconcerned as ever, with sandwiches and whisky and soda for the guests. The gathering reminded one of Bairnsfather’s sketch, ‘An hour before going into trenches.’ Ind tried hard to keep the conversation going; Grimsdale, who occupied one of the few seats, appeared somewhat subdued, though he had a few knotty problems to put to the assembly. Hasleham, who squatted tailor fashion on the floor, went to sleep, while Bowers Taylor and Davenport spent the time trying to follow his example--without much success.
“At 3.10 a.m. precisely, the floor, walls and ceiling began to rock furiously, and we realised that the Australian tunnellers in Marshall Walk had not boasted idly when they told us last November that their mine under Hill 60 would one day stagger humanity. A moment later, another big mine went up at St. Eloi, and at the same time the most wonderful bombardment there has ever been known was let loose. Big guns, howitzers and field guns seemed to be firing from everywhere behind us, and one could not help feeling overawed by the magnificence of our artillery. The machine guns joined in the fun, and the whole thing inspired every one with great confidence. No human beings could possibly withstand such a bombardment. It was the noise of the bombardment, so often described as drumfire, which was mistaken afar off for the noise of the mines, and imaginative journalists with a keen sense of hearing afterwards wrote tales of how they had heard the mines in London. The mines actually made comparatively little noise.
“We had three hours to wait before our time came to jump off, so we tried to see what was going on in front, where the 7th and 8th Battalions were attacking the White Château and neighbouring trenches. Little could be seen, however, beyond a big cloud of dust and here and there a tank toiling over the shell holes. The Bosche, apparently, had no guns to spare for us, as he left us entirely alone, and at 5.15 a.m. we moved up to our jumping off trenches undisturbed.
“The Adjutant, who for many weeks had worked on this scheme harder than the producer of plays ever worked on a great masterpiece, came up to see us off, and as the situation was so quiet we were able to form up in waves outside our jumping-off trenches. Our new padré, too, came along to wish the ‘dear lads’ the best of luck, and to distribute a large quantity of cigarettes. A staunch friend to the troops at all times, the Rev. Ernest Beattie was surely the most cheery padré a Battalion could have had. It did one good to see his genial smile whenever he came round the line.
“The first wave consisted of one platoon of each Company, ‘A’ on the left under Sergeant Steele, then ‘C’ (Second-Lieutenant Stoneman), ‘B’ (Sergeant G. T. Bachell), and ‘D’ (Second-Lieutenant G. T. Mellett). An additional platoon of ‘B’ under Second-Lieutenant Temple was attached to this wave which, under the command of the Officer Commanding ‘C’ Company, moved off at 6.25 a.m. The Battalion scouts, who had previously gone forward to reconnoitre, had just returned and reported that all had gone well with the Post Office Rifles, who were holding all their objectives, and that the stream beyond, which we had to cross, was practically dry and offered no obstacle.
“The first wave had a good start, and in a line of sections in single file went unhindered through the three objectives held by the Post Office Rifles and across the aforesaid stream in the White Château grounds, until it opened out to two lines in extended order and halted under the barrage in a hollow in front of the first objective, Oak Crescent, a trench just south of the White Château stables. The first wave of the 6th Battalion, who were attacking the stables on our left, moved off at the same time. While waiting for the barrage to lift, we suffered a few casualties.
“The scene in the hollow while waiting for the barrage to lift was a truly remarkable one. The inevitable mixing up of waves had occurred, and the 2nd, 3rd and 4th waves, who were following the first at five minute intervals, here became merged into one mass, and the scene looked like the field for a big cross-country race. The mix-up had occurred owing to the men crossing the rough ground much more quickly than had been expected. In the background a tank was slowly making its way across the line of our advance to assist the 6th Battalion at the stables if necessary. A small crowd gathered round it and watched it with interest. What was most extraordinary was the very slight enemy fire, and men were able to sort themselves out more or less with ease.
“When the barrage lifted, the first wave went forward to assault Oak Crescent, but the difficulty was not so much to capture it as to recognise it, for our guns had done their work so well that it was hard to find the place where the trench had been--and there was no trace of a Bosche either alive or dead. The second wave, consisting of one platoon of ‘C’ Company under Sergeant Glass, and one platoon of ‘D’ Company with Company Headquarters, arrived to ‘mop up’ the trench, but as they could not find any trench to mop up, they devoted their time to trying to dig one instead. About this time the Officer Commanding ‘A’ Company, Captain A. Bowers Taylor, was killed, and the Officer Commanding ‘D’ Company, Second-Lieutenant Hasleham, was wounded, and in addition the Battalion suffered its most serious loss since leaving England. Lieutenant Ind, who, in his eagerness to see that everything went well, had followed the Battalion up to the hollow ground before the first objective, was hit in the head by a piece of shell, and, although he was taken down immediately, he was so badly wounded that he died the same evening without recovering consciousness in No. 10 Casualty Clearing Station, near Poperinghe. So the Civil Service Rifles lost the finest Territorial soldier who ever served with them. Fortunately the news did not get round for some time, but it had a somewhat depressing effect when it became known, for needless to say, Lieutenant Ind was loved by every officer, N.C.O. and man in the Battalion. No man could have worked harder for the welfare of a Battalion than he did, nor could anyone be more fearless and unselfish than he was. He had been with the 1st Civil Service Rifles continuously since the Foreign Service Battalion was formed, and throughout he had devoted himself wholeheartedly to the Regiment, whose members he was ever ready to help in any way he possibly could. He was a magnificent soldier, a thorough gentleman, and an ideal friend, and his loss has left a gap in the Battalion which can never be adequately filled. He had been looked upon for so long as so essential a part of the Battalion that his many friends found it difficult to realise that he had been killed.
“By a strange coincidence, Lieutenant-Colonel H. H. Kemble, M.C., the Commanding Officer of the 23rd London Regiment (who, as Captain Kemble, had been Ind’s Company Commander in the Civil Service Rifles during their first six months in France) was mortally wounded almost at the same time as his old friend, and died the same night in the same ward. These two old comrades were buried side by side in the Military Cemetery just south of Poperinghe between the railway and the road to Westoutre.
“Lieutenant-Colonel Kemble’s death was lamented by all who knew him in the Civil Service Rifles, where he was so well known and respected as a very gallant Company Commander.
“But although, as has been stated, the loss of Lieutenant Ind had a somewhat depressing effect, it did not interfere with the attack, and the third wave, consisting of one platoon of ‘A’ Company (Second-Lieutenant G. W. Ackworth), one of ‘C’ Company (Second-Lieutenant T. Woods), one of ‘B’ (Second-Lieutenant Samuel) and one of ‘D’ (Second-Lieutenant Margrett), under the Officer Commanding ‘B’ Company, moved through the line of what was once Oak Crescent, and took their objective, Oblong Trench, with little opposition.
“The fourth wave, also consisting of a platoon from each Company (‘A,’ Second-Lieutenant L. C. Morris, ‘B,’ Second-Lieutenant C. Stevenson, ‘C,’ Second-Lieutenant C. V. Marchant, and ‘D,’ Second-Lieutenant Moran), now moved through Oak Crescent and amalgamated with the first wave. The two together then moved forward, with an additional platoon of ‘A’ Company (Second-Lieutenant A. Wilson) on the left, and captured the final objective, Oblong Reserve, where a few tired and frightened Germans readily gave themselves up.
“About 200 yards beyond the final objective was a ruined building, known as Delbske Farm, surrounded by a trench. The instructions were that a patrol was to be pushed out to the farm, which, if not held strongly, was to be rushed and captured. A kind of scramble was accordingly made for the farm by a party consisting of ‘C’ Company Headquarters, and Nos. 9 and 11 Platoons, with Sergeant Steele’s platoon of ‘A’ Company and any odd men of other Companies who happened to be handy. The farm and trench were taken with little opposition, and about thirty prisoners came pouring out of the building anxious to be shown the way ‘home.’
“In every case throughout the day the objective had been captured with ease. There were very few Bosches to be found, and these immediately gave themselves up without a struggle when we entered their trenches. Indeed, the only infantry action took place after the trench at Delbske Farm had been taken, when patrols, going out to right and left, were subject to rifle fire from Bosche patrols, who later in the morning seemed to have recovered from their fright sufficiently to inflict a few casualties on the occupants of the trench outside the farm. It was here that Sergeant Steele and Corporal Freeman, of ‘A’ Company, after doing sterling work on patrol, were shot through the head and killed instantly.
“Late in the afternoon the Bosche began shelling heavily, but although our aeroplanes twice reported him to be massing for counter-attack, he was effectively dispersed by our artillery and did not even leave his trenches.
“The night was fairly quiet except for some desultory shelling; but the troops were all very tired after their efforts of the past 24 hours, and it came as a very pleasant surprise when early on the morning of the 8th, the 2nd Leinsters arrived and relieved us. The four Companies moved back to Ecluse Trench--a support trench running south from the canal about half a mile behind our original assembly positions. It was quite a comfortable place and the weather was fine and warm. The tired troops were therefore able to enjoy a solid day’s sleep, undisturbed by shells. They were all very proud of their victory, and when they were not sleeping they were all talking at once, comparing souvenirs and recounting their various experiences.”
* * * * *
So ended the first phase of the capture of the Messines-Wytschaete Ridge. It had been a wonderful demonstration of the power of artillery supported by a thorough aeroplane reconnaissance. From the point of view of the infantry it had been a “walk over,” at least so far as the Civil Service Rifles were concerned. Tales were told of hand-to-hand struggles in the vicinity of the White Château, but the German troops opposed to the Civil Service Rifles evidently knew whom they had to deal with and they wisely refrained from indulging in any fighting. The casualties, happily, were few, and the victory, considering the number of objectives and the extent of ground covered, was undoubtedly a cheap one. It was illustrated very clearly, however, how impossible it is, when advancing over a wide area of rough ground, to arrive at the distant objective in anything like the waves laid down in the training pamphlets.
Here were conditions ideal for a model attack--excellent artillery support, well-trained men, every one of whom was keen and clearly understood the scheme which had been so thoroughly rehearsed, and a very weak opposition, and yet the attack became little more than a scramble after the first objective was passed. At the same time the troops had taken and held all the objectives allotted to them, and there was a feeling of satisfaction among the members of the Civil Service Rifles that the Battalion had done all that it was asked to do in what was, so far, the greatest British victory of the war.
After two days’ rest in Ecluse Trench a return was made to the front line, and the 6th Battalion were relieved on the 10th of June in a trench known as Opal Reserve--on the left of Oblong Reserve, familiar to the Civil Service Rifles as one of their objectives on the 7th. Battalion Headquarters was in what was left of the White Château itself.
Although only two days were spent here it was a much more trying experience than the battle had been, and the casualties suffered were considerably more than the average for merely holding the line. The Bosche had now reorganised his artillery, and he was using it to some purpose on the White Château and its grounds. The first taste of the trouble was given to No. 9 platoon of “C” Company on their way to the front line. Starting out with about twenty men under Second Lieutenant Stoneman, only nine reached the front line in Opal Reserve, four having been killed, and seven wounded.
The front line trench, which was mostly mud, was held by “B” and “C” Companies, “A” and “D” being in reserve in a series of German “pill box” shelters. Second Lieutenant L. L. Burtt was now in command of “B” Company, and it is said he spent the time in being pulled out of the mud by his Sergeant-Major (R. H. Burden), and in turn pulling him out. There was no shelter of any kind for either of the front line Companies, but “C” Company Headquarters occupied a niche cut out of the wall of the trench, and there the Company Commander sat with an officer on each side of him, like statues in the walls of a cathedral.
The time here was spent in clearing the trench of the ever-falling debris, dodging shells, and digging a jumping-off trench for the 41st Division, who were shortly to continue the advance. For this purpose they relieved the 47th Division on the night of the 12th of June, and the Civil Service Rifles gladly handed over their strip of mud to the 18th Battalion K.R.R., and made their way out to Chippewa Camp, near Reninghelst, where they arrived at about 6.0 a.m. on the 13th of June, so tired that they didn’t care a fig who held the Messines-Wytschaete Ridge.
* * * * *
In accordance with the usual practice after a big battle, the Division went right back for rest and reorganisation, and after two days’ marching the Civil Service Rifles, on the 16th of June, reached the village of Ebblinghem, between Hazebrouck and St. Omer.
The twelve days spent in this village were chiefly devoted to preparing for an inspection by the Divisional Commander, and training for the Divisional Water Carnival at Blaringhem. An al fresco concert in “D” Company’s billet on the 23rd of June threatened to fall flat, but the arrival, at a gallop, of a limber with a large barrel of beer on board set things moving, and the concert finished very well.
The Divisional Water Carnival was held in the canal at Blaringhem on the 26th, and the crowd of visitors made one think of a Town Regatta on the Thames, the fair sex being well represented. The weather was gloriously fine, and the comic events were well to the fore in the programme. The Battalion carried off its fair share of the honours, the chief success being that of the R.Q.M.S., W. B. Hart, who built the winning boat in the odd craft race, cleverly rowed by R. D. Tidmarsh, who won an easy victory by a distance. A small lottery was arranged for the visitors, and Mdlle. Victoria, the fair damsel at the Civil Service Rifles Headquarters billet, won the first prize. This brought to a close the holiday at Ebblinghem, for the march back to the war was begun on the morning of the 28th, and, after staying one night at Meteren and one night at Voormezeele, the month of July found the Civil Service Rifles in support in what had been the German front line immediately south of the Canal.
The weather was bad, the trenches were in a perfectly rotten state of repair, and the men had no protection against persistent shelling. Three very unlucky days were spent here, during which time the losses from shell fire amounted to about forty all ranks, and on the night of the 3rd of July, after being relieved by Companies from the 21st, 22nd, and 23rd Battalions, a weary and somewhat fed up Battalion made its way to Murrumbidgee Camp--a hutted camp near the village of La Clytte.
The chief attraction here was a bathing pond which, although somewhat “soupy,” was well patronised by the troops.
XVI. THE RENAISSANCE
Among the prominent events which may be regarded as landmarks or milestones in the career of the Civil Service Rifles in France, two have already been passed--Vimy Ridge and High Wood. The third milestone was one of a different character, but the arrival of Lieut.-Colonel F. W. Parish, M.C., to take command most certainly marked the beginning of a new phase in the life of the Battalion. As the pre-war Adjutant, Captain Parish had played a great part in the training of the Civil Service Rifles for war, and all who knew him at the time will remember his keenness. He left the Battalion at the end of October, 1915, to be G.S.O. III of the 19th Division, and afterwards took command of one of the Service Battalions of the North Staffords, with whom he was severely wounded in the Somme Battle of 1916.
It was soon found that he had lost none of his enthusiasm for the Civil Service Rifles, and although a great many changes had taken place since he left, there were still a good many who remembered him, and as he walked along the trenches in Bois Confluent, near St. Eloi, on the 9th of July, he could not mistake the welcome that was shown to him in the faces of all his old friends. The Battalion, sad to relate, had become somewhat stale and had a tired look, and the new Commanding Officer supplied just the touch of renewed vigour which had been lacking of late. He took the earliest opportunity to tell the troops that he was glad to see them all, but that they were not quite the Battalion of old, and he would not be content until they were. He said they were not as clean as they might be, and although they had fought well, they were not so smart, and their discipline was not so good as it should be. All these things, he said, must be put right, and, as there was no time like the present, he put his preaching into practice right away in the support positions in Bois Confluent.
There followed such a craze for cleaning up clothing and equipment as had not been known for many months, and all ranks entered into the new spirit with enthusiasm. Ten rough days in front line trenches around the gates of the White Château grounds on the Hollebeke Road, where the Germans shelled all day and every day, and where one side or the other carried out a raid nearly every night, ended in the Battalion being relieved on the night of the 24th of June by the 18th King’s Royal Rifles, and moving to Carnarvon Camp, near Westoutre, one of the most uncomfortable camps occupied by the Civil Service Rifles during the war.
After one day’s rest the work of “restoration” was resumed, and vigorous “spit and polish” was indulged in for three days before the Commanding Officer inspected the Battalion. In a breezy speech he said he could already see a distinct improvement, and he felt sure a further improvement would follow.
On the 30th of July the Civil Service Rifles became the envied of all the other units in the Division as they marched to Wippenhoek Siding near Abeele, and entrained for St. Omer, whence a short march brought them to Tatinghem. Here the Battalion was to carry out a training programme, consisting chiefly of musketry on the 2nd Army ranges near Moulle.
* * * * *
In his work of revival, there is no doubt that Colonel Parish had everything in his favour. In the first place he had sole command of the unit and was not worried by any orders from either Brigade or Division. The training was to be done entirely under the Commanding Officer’s own arrangements, the only condition laid down being that every one must have musketry practice on the range. In the second place the Battalion was sent to a pleasantly situated training area many miles from the firing line, and thirdly the billets were excellent--in many cases better than the men had ever had before in France. Practically every sergeant, at least, had a real bed in an inhabited house.
In these circumstances it would have been strange indeed if all ranks had not responded wholeheartedly to the call of their Commanding Officer, whose enthusiasm quickly spread throughout the Battalion. It is true the “spit and polish” days of General Cuthbert were put into the shade by the scrubbing and polishing which were indulged in from morning till night in the early days at Tatinghem, and all the time-honoured jokes and gags about Bluebell Metal Polish, Kiwi, etc., were literally worked to death. Men groused and joked alternately about the new craze, and one wag chalked up on a billet door a colourable imitation of the Regimental crest, beneath which he had substituted the words “Ich Posh” for the actual motto. Thanks to the inclement weather, there was no chance during the first few days to do anything but remain in billets and “clean up,” and when eventually the rain ceased and Colonel Parish saw his Battalion on parade, he was so proud of the men that he spent a good deal of his spare time thereafter in persuading General Officers and others to come and inspect them. The Civil Service Rifles, in consequence, underwent inspections during this holiday by General Plumer (twice), Brigadier-General Kennedy, and Brigadier-General Bailey, in addition to numerous inspections by the Commanding Officer. The men endured these ordeals with little or no grousing--for they had now learnt to take a proper pride in their smart appearance.
The Commanding Officer’s chief worry was lack of a parade ground where he could drill his battalion, and the Adjutant was ordered to find one. It was in vain that he said the local farmers objected to their pasture being ruined by the tramping of army boots, so eventually he discovered a field without a gate to it, and hoped the farmer would not turn up during battalion drill. The farmer did not appear himself, but his wife came on parade and protested so loudly to the Adjutant that the Commanding Officer exclaimed in a loud voice “Send that woman off parade. This is not a woman’s battalion.” This brilliant sally, however, was wasted on the woman, who continued to protest volubly--and those who have heard a French peasant woman when she is roused will realise how difficult it was to induce her to leave the field.
The great day of the training was the Regimental Rifle Meeting, run almost on Bisley lines, which was held on the ranges at Moulle, on the 6th of August. Prizes were offered for the best sergeant and the best corporal in the Battalion, for the best private in each Company, and for each member of the Platoon having the highest average. In addition, all prize winners were to have a day’s leave.
The Prize Meeting was a great success, and the keenest interest was taken in the competitions, on which there were various sweepstakes, while, in addition, two members of the Battalion “made a book” on one of the competitions, their most profitable dupe being the Commanding Officer himself.
“C” Company appear to have swept the board as far as Platoon averages went, as two of their Platoons took the first two places, and one other tied with numbers eight (“B” Company) and thirteen (“D” Company) for third place. The following received silver wrist watches suitably engraved for the occasion:--
Best Sergeant in the Battalion: Sergeant H. Salmon - ‘C’ Company.
Best Corporal: Corporal O. L. H. Levey - ‘C’ Company.
Best Privates: ‘A’ Company - Privates L. W. V. Wilkinson and H. A. Vernham, tied. ‘B’ Company - Private W. J. Tuckett. ‘C’ Company - Privates E. A. Honney and A. Strong tied. ‘D’ Company - Private F. T. G. White.
The Officers’ competition was won by Second-Lieutenant G. E. Tatum, ‘C’ Company.
Shortly after the Rifle Meeting the Battalion became attached to the 142nd Brigade, and this caused a move to Moringhem, but after two General Officers’ inspections in four days the Civil Service Rifles, to their great joy, returned to their old billets, the 140th Brigade having been sent to the Tatinghem area for training.
The puzzle so far had been the absence of the marked-out or “flagged” course, and speculation was rife as to how soon the familiar signs would appear on the training ground, but beyond practising an advance (through fields of cut corn) in what the Commanding Officer called lines of “worms,” no very warlike movements were undertaken, nor was there any mention of a coming operation. So the holiday at Tatinghem came to an end without any rehearsing of a set piece which had been such a conspicuous feature of former holidays of this kind.
Just before leaving Tatinghem, a mild interest was taken in the appearance on parade of a second Colonel, wearing the uniform of a Scottish regiment, who inspected the Battalion on the 23rd of August, and thereafter did not miss a parade. There were numerous speculations as to who was this unassuming-looking fellow in the Scotch cap, and what did he want, but no one guessed what a great part he was soon to play in the history of the Regiment.
A seemingly endless column of motor buses and lorries took the 140th Brigade back to the war on the 24th of August, and the Civil Service Rifles occupied Vancouver Camp, which seemed dreadfully uncomfortable after the luxury of Tatinghem. The accommodation was poor, and the day was cold with a biting wind howling and blowing the dust over everything. The troops experienced very much the same kind of feeling as on return to a City office after a month at the seaside or in the country, and before turning in for the night a rumour went round that the Division would very soon attack Polygon and Glencorse Woods, beyond Westhoek Ridge. Pleasant dreams!
XVII. LAST DAYS IN THE YPRES SALIENT
As a sequel to overnight rumours, all officers were taken the next day to study a ground plan of the country from Passchendaele to Westhoek Ridge--an excellent model of what had now become the most famous battlefield on the western front. The parts which specially interested the Civil Service Rifles were the wood known as Nonne Boschen and Glencorse Wood. In the afternoon the N.C.O.’s were taken to see the model, and it was explained to them that they were soon to attack the positions in the two woods mentioned. These had been captured more than once during the past week or two, but in each case the captors had been pushed back by a German counter-attack.
The next step followed at a very early hour the morning after, when a party of officers boarded a bus outside camp, and long before daylight were deposited outside the Asylum at Ypres. Crossing the now world-famous city, they passed out at the Menin Gate and down the dreaded Menin Road to Hooge, whence they made a general reconnaissance of the country from Bellewarde Ridge over Westhoek Ridge. The situation in the front line seemed a trifle obscure, and those holding it did not altogether cheer their visitors up when discussing the proposed attack. It certainly surprised the said visitors to learn that one group of old gun pits, where they were supposed to assemble for their attack, was being held by the Bosches. This news, however, did not have any serious effect on the scheme, and the following day a party of N.C.O.’s accompanied the Adjutant on a similar reconnaissance. Rain poured in torrents from start to finish, and it is feared that the party, absolutely wet through to the skin, did not display very great enthusiasm for their work that day.
There followed a lecture by the Commanding Officer in the Vancouver Theatre on the coming attack. The Army School lecturer of these days still laboured under the delusion that the assaulting infantry in an attack arrived at the objective in waves, in spite of ditches, water jumps, barbed wire or other obstacles. To hear him talk of the attack it all seemed so easy, that one could only wonder why it had not been done before--preferably by the staff of an Army School.
Colonel Parish, who had been an instructor at the Senior Officers’ School at Aldershot earlier in the year, contrived to instil his optimism into the troops, who entered on the flagged course rehearsals the next day with considerable enthusiasm. Even the two men of “C” Company who were detailed to wade through a marsh, said to exist in No Man’s Land, were heard to joke about their “chances.”
Consequently the troops, although not generally bellicose, were almost eager for the fray, as there was a distinct feeling among them that something big should be done to justify the recent holiday. Thus it came about that members of the Battalion were heard to say that they were looking forward to the battle. This attitude was certainly a novelty, for although there was never a lack of volunteers for any enterprise, however dangerous, nor was there ever any disposition to “swing it” before a battle, it had for a long time been the practice to look askance at any man who claimed to be keen on a fight. The recognised attitude in public circles, both on the part of officers and other ranks, was that of a pacifist. “Live and let live” was claimed as their motto by some of the most zealous soldiers, simply because they hated the idea of being dubbed “fire-eaters,” and often a most gallant fighter would be one who asserted loudly that he was always very “windy,” to use popular parlance, or that there was nothing he dreaded more than going over the top. However, on the occasion referred to, officers and men were more honest, and most, if not all, readily asserted their keenness for the difficult and somewhat complicated form of attack which they were soon to undertake in the neighbourhood of Westhoek Ridge.
The rehearsals over the marked-out course went on from day to day, sometimes in the presence of the Divisional Commander, Major-General Gorringe, and nearly always in the presence of the Brigade Commander, Brigadier-General Kennedy, with various members of the gilded staff in the offing. Still, the Civil Service Rifles, equipped with two Lieutenant-Colonels, and fired with enthusiasm, disarmed criticism, and the Generals regarded Glencorse Wood and the curiously-named Nonne Boschen (Nuns’ Wood) as practically captured. They had, however, reckoned without the weather.
The big offensive which took place in the Ypres Salient from July to September, 1917, is remembered more by the atrocious weather which accompanied it throughout--and finally ruined it--than by any other feature. Hopes had run high, as details of the ambitious scheme leaked out, that this great push was going to hasten very considerably the end of the war. The Bosche evidently feared that such might be the result, to judge from the stubborn resistance he put up, and the number of big guns he brought to bear on the district, and it was the eternal shelling during these three months, combined with what was probably a record in bad weather even for France, which caused men ever after to speak with bated breath of “Passchendaele.”
To have been through Passchendaele was regarded as having endured the most severe trial of the war, but “Passchendaele” when referred to in this connection, included not only the little village of that name and the ridge adjoining it, but the whole of the devastated area in the Ypres Salient where the fighting was so keen during the last wretched months of the so-called summer of 1917. Passchendaele, therefore, can be stretched to include Glencorse and Polygon Woods and the Westhoek Ridge, for here the full fury of this terrible battle against the combined forces of the Bosche and the weather was felt, and as far as the Civil Service Rifles were concerned, they were knocked out by the weather before they reached the “starting gate.”
Throughout the last few days of August the rain fell almost continuously. The marsh referred to, through which two men had to wade, had now become a pond, and the rest of the country on Westhoek Ridge had become a sea of mud. The attack, after being postponed from day to day, was finally abandoned on the 31st of August, when the advance party, under the Adjutant, was actually on parade ready to start for the trenches. A limber containing medical stores, signalling equipment, etc., had already been despatched for the Menin Road, where it was to await the advance party. The advance party was dismissed, the limber brought back, and later in the evening it became known that the attack was definitely abandoned so far as the 47th Division was concerned.
The news created something akin to consternation in the Battalion, where the men felt the keenest disappointment at the loss of such an opportunity to prove their worth, but none felt it more keenly than Colonel Parish. It transpired that he had not recovered from his head wound received on the Somme in 1916,[14] and he was therefore to return to England, but he had succeeded in persuading the authorities to allow him to see this battle through before going away. It thus came as a very bitter blow to him, who had devoted so much energy and zeal to improving the fighting spirit, that he should have to leave without ever having commanded his Battalion in the front line.
[14] This wound contributed to his untimely death on 9th Oct., 1921. He is buried at Hawarden.
His grief was shared by all ranks in the Battalion, for although he had only been in command for six weeks, he had worked a wonderful change, and had inspired every one by his enthusiasm for the Civil Service Rifles.
There was not an officer, N.C.O. or man who had served under him who did not feel how very much the Regiment owed to Colonel Parish. It had been a real pleasure to serve under him in any capacity, and there was a genuine and universal regret felt at his departure. The benefit of his six weeks’ command was felt in the Battalion throughout the rest of the war.
Colonel Parish said good-bye on parade on the 23rd of September, when he told the men how sorry he was to go, but assured them all that it was only for a little while, for he would be back as soon as the powers that be would allow him. He felt sure that when that time came, Colonel Segrave, to whom he was handing over his command, would be able to tell him that this was still the finest Battalion in the Division.
This, then, was the explanation of the “quiet, unobtrusive Colonel in the Scotch cap” who had been living with the Civil Service Rifles for the past fortnight. He had a difficult task before him, coming as he did, after one who had become such a hot favourite with all under his command. Colonel Segrave did not start off with the “new broom” tactics, for there was very little that he wished to alter, and it was his desire to continue on the lines of his predecessor. He told the Battalion, when he took his first parade on the 4th of September, how proud he was to be given command of the Civil Service Rifles, but it is safe to say that not even he guessed how great was to be his love for this Regiment before the end of his régime.
Very soon afterwards the Battalion relieved the 2nd South Lancashire Battalion in support trenches round about Hooge and Château Wood on the Menin Road, and here were spent the last seven days of the eleven months’ sojourn in the Ypres Salient. The experience of these seven days was a fitting conclusion to all that had been endured in the past year, for they were days during which the Salient lived up to its worst reputation.
The relief of the 2nd South Lancashires was carried out in daylight on the 9th of September, and the Bosches welcomed the change by indulging in a general bombardment of the area, which caused a few casualties in “A” Company before they reached their new positions.
The Battalion was disposed round about the site of the village of Hooge. There were no trenches, although there were several marked on the map, and the sole accommodation was found in old concrete shelters which until recently had housed the Germans. “A” Company, however, occupied part of the Menin tunnel, which had once been a triumph of German field engineering. This ran underneath the Menin Road, and inside had been a trench tramway, along which the enemy stores and rations had been brought up. The main signal lines also ran along, and it was noticed that these had been neatly pinned into the walls of the tunnel--in contrast to the English method of laying lines criss-cross along open trenches in such a manner as to catch the occupants across the throat. This method of fixing lines, so common throughout the British area, caused more bad language on a dark night than any other provocation in France.
The Menin tunnel may have been a safe refuge in the early days of its existence, but now it was in a deplorable condition. Daylight was admitted at very frequent intervals by the huge gaping holes caused by the heavy artillery of both sides, but in spite of these the atmosphere inside was almost overpowering, and the protection from shell fire was purely imaginary.
Gas shells were scattered freely over the area both day and night, and the casualties increased each day. During the bombardment of the night of the 11th of September, Lance-Corporal Foote, of the Headquarters Pioneers, distinguished himself by carrying a wounded man from the ruins in Château Wood occupied by Battalion Headquarters right down the Menin Road to the dressing station at the famous Birr cross roads.
The discomforts increased each day, and the bombardments of the main track to the front line--the Kanwan track, which had formerly taken place at regular times each day, now became more frequent and irregular. The whole Battalion made the perilous journey along this track nearly every day, for huge carrying parties had to be provided to carry R. E. material and ammunition up to Clapham Junction--the Headquarters of the front line Battalion. There were many signs of the recent advance to be seen on the way to Clapham Junction, the most noticeable being a mass of ruined tanks which looked as though they had all been put out of action in trying to mount the embankment along a part of the Menin Road.
On the 15th of September began a series of practice barrages, and the long-suffering infantry now had to endure the retaliation in addition to other bombardments. Following one of the practice barrages the 7th Battalion, holding the front line, sent forward a party and captured a strong point. “C” Company, under Captain L. L. Burtt, went up at night to work for them, and their journey along Kanwan Track ranks as one of the worst experiences of the Company during the war. Misfortune befell the party from the start, and the intense shelling combined with the pitch-black darkness of the night caused the journey to Clapham Junction to degenerate into a scramble. This was practically the closing incident in the eleven months spent in the Ypres Salient, for on the following afternoon the 2nd Australian Infantry Battalion arrived, and the Civil Service Rifles made their way down the Menin Road, strewn with all the débris of war, with here and there a dead horse, and so to Château Segard, where one night was spent before marching to the village of Steenvoorde and saying good-bye for ever to the hated Ypres Salient.
The departure from the Salient was not without its thrills for the Lewis Gunners, who had been left with their guns on the Menin Road near Hooge awaiting the limbers. These had to pass a corner on the Ypres side of Birr Cross Roads known as Hell Fire Corner, and it so happened on this evening that the spot was justifying its name, for it had been shelled so heavily that the dump of R.E. material and ammunition by the roadside was all ablaze--thus completely shutting off the Transport. This state of affairs lasted for some hours, but Sergeant Sladden solved the difficulty by taking his limbers round by a devious route through Zillebeke, and eventually got the limbers away without loss.
The Transport Section had had many exciting trips along the Menin Road, and they were proud of the fact that they were able to leave the Ypres Salient without having lost a horse in that area.
XVIII. ANOTHER REST CURE. GAVRELLE AND OPPY
The long march to Steenvoorde--17 miles--was endured cheerfully by all ranks, who were overjoyed at leaving Belgium. It was felt that whatever the new area was like, it would not be worse than the experience of the past few weeks. What a tremendous change from the haven of rest of eleven months ago! There were many who would even prefer to go through the Somme experience of a year ago rather than return to the Menin Road.
Those who had been left out as “non-starters” for the battle which did not take place rejoined at Eecke, a little village near Caestre, where two days were spent before the Battalion entrained at Caestre shortly after midnight on the 22nd of September, and started in the best of spirits for the Arras front.
After resting for two nights at the delightful village of Frevin-Capelle, near the source of the Scarpe, a short march in delightful weather brought the Civil Service Rifles to Aubrey Camp--a camp of Nissen huts and tents on the Lens-Arras Road near Roclincourt. A night spent in Aubrey Camp was followed by a march to the front line at Gavrelle where old friends were found in the Drake Battalion of the 63rd (Naval) Division. This Battalion had been attached to the Civil Service Rifles for instruction in trench warfare at Souchez in June 1916.
There followed a spell of peace and quiet which compared very favourably even with the early days at Ypres. The absence of shelling was very noticeable and the trenches were clean and dry. Moreover there was an occasional deep dug-out and as the ground was chalky--it was the southern extremity of Vimy Ridge--more were to be dug by the Royal Engineers. There were never many deep dug-outs in English trenches, but whenever the ground was suitable there were always a good many either under construction or proposed.
There was a good water supply from a well in the trenches, and rations were brought to within 100 yards of Battalion Headquarters, and the Battalion held the front line for eight days without showing any sign of wear. Everyone was happy, except perhaps the energetic Commanding Officer, who wanted to get on with the war. He had little or no use for the quiet life of Gavrelle and seemed happier amid the turmoil of the Ypres Salient.
It was intended that the Division should make a long stay in this sector, and elaborate plans for a winter scheme of defence were made by the Divisional Commander. As in the Ypres Salient, a Battalion when out at rest was always to occupy the same camp--in order to encourage the men to work on camp improvements. The Civil Service Rifles accordingly set to work on Aubrey Camp, and Colonel Segrave claims that his men laid more trench boards per acre than could be found at any other place on the Western front. He also established the Battalion Baths, so that henceforth the Civil Service Rifles would be independent of the Divisional Baths Officer.
Football matches, trips to Arras, and the concerts given by the Divisional Follies were the chief diversions, and, at the end of October, a very successful Regimental concert was held in the Divisional Cinema, the surprise turn of the evening being the R.S.M.’s rendering of “Take me back to dear old Blighty.”
The good spirits of the troops were further raised by a very welcome increase in the leave allotment, which for some time had been very poor, and all leave records were broken on the 6th of November when a party of sixty other ranks left by the light railway from Roclincourt en route for “Blighty.”
The Transport and Quartermaster’s Stores were housed in Roclincourt in the most comfortable billets they had had for some months. It was here that the Transport Section received a shock in the shape of a comb-out by the Commanding Officer. Colonel Segrave was a keen student of man power, and in investigating the strength of his Battalion, he found the Transport Section considerably overstaffed, with the result that eleven of them rejoined their Companies in the trenches.
The sectors of the front line held by the Civil Service Rifles were alternately the Gavrelle Sector, and the posts just south of Oppy Wood. Of these the Gavrelle sector was much the more popular, though neither could compare with the support positions in the Railway Cutting and Roundhay Camp, just by the Arras-Bailleul Road.
It was while at Roundhay Camp that the peaceful life was disturbed by startling rumours of a move to another front, and on the 15th of November, weight was given to the rumours by the sudden closing of the Brigade School. Leave, it was said, was stopped, and amid consternation groups of men gathered all over the camp to discuss the situation, those who wanted to be funny talking of ice cream and stilettos--for it was understood the Division was bound for Italy.
The “holiday” in the Arras district came to an abrupt end on the 18th of November, when the 13th East Yorks Battalion arrived, and the Civil Service Rifles left by Light Railway, and after a merry trip in the toy train, reached a camp of French huts at Ecoivres. There, in spite of rumours, a party of thirty other ranks went on leave, but speculation was rife as to whether they would complete their full time.
A few days were spent at Ecoivres, with many football matches, which included a Rugby trial match on the 20th of November. Interest in the Rugby match was diverted by the news, which arrived during the game, of the brilliant success of the 3rd Army near Cambrai. The attack had been kept secret, and the news came as a great surprise. It was said the Hindenburg Line was broken, the cavalry and tanks were pursuing the retreating enemy, and Cambrai itself would soon fall. In fact, the war would soon be over. Orders received that night for a move on the morrow gave rise to further speculation as to the destination of the Division, and at the “calling over of the card” in the Officers’ Mess, the betting was evens Cambrai, 6-4 Italy, and 100-1 England.
* * * * *
The movements of the Division during the last ten days of November, 1917, were such as would baffle the keenest member of the enemy Intelligence Department. Units appeared to be moving from one village to another with no particular object in view, and during the first few days of the trek from Ecoivres the Battalion Commanders themselves had no idea whether they were bound for Italy or the Cambrai front. The Civil Service Rifles started with a succession of short marches, and as a rule the billets were poor and the villages somewhat squalid. There was, however, little time to “grouse,” for the order to move on was usually received before the men had time to look round. After a night in billets at Hermaville and a night of extreme discomfort in dilapidated huts at Wanquetin, the village of Gouy en Artois was reached, where it was learnt that the Division was now in the Fifth Corps (3rd Army) and it was evident therefore that the move to Italy was “off.”
On the 24th of November the Battalion occupied a hutted camp in Courcelles le Comte, a ruined village won from the Bosches during their winter retreat of 1916. The roads and hamlets in this district were still clearly marked with the big signboards erected during the German occupation, and at one end of Courcelles could be seen the remains of a German cinema or theatre.
The camp itself had been built by English troops, and had at one time been a well laid out camp of Nissen huts; but now it was the abomination of desolation. The linings of the huts had been torn off for firewood, the windows were broken, the doors torn off their hinges, and every hut was strewn with rubbish. Fortunately only one night was spent in these conditions, and the march was resumed the next afternoon.
The march to Le Transloy on the 25th of November was unique. For the first hour everything went well, but from that time onwards the column was rarely on the move for more than ten minutes every hour. The usual order of things was thus reversed, and instead of a ten minutes halt in every hour, there was a ten minutes march per hour. Every road leading into Bapaume was choked with troops, and a perspiring A.P.M. was trying to sort out those bound for the front from those coming out into reserve.
Tea was served in the twilight on the Bapaume Road, and the next halt found the Battalion in the main street of the town. There were some there who had hoped to see Bapaume in 1916, but although they had ample opportunity to admire the ruins in the bright moonlight, they had now lost all interest in their surroundings, and many passed through without even knowing the name of the place.
Thoroughly fed up, the troops reached their camp shortly before midnight, and to crown a very miserable day they were so frightfully crowded into the huts that they could scarcely find room to lie down. “Posh Harry” was almost speechless when he saw his billet. “What I want to know,” he spluttered, “is where did the R.S.M. of the Guards sleep last night? They say the Guards were here, but I’m sure their R.S.M. would not sleep in there.”
The discomfort of that camp, however, was eclipsed on the night of the 27th of November, when the Battalion bivouacked in a field of rich creamy mud at Doignies, the journey from Le Transloy having been made by bus to Velu, and thence by route march, each man carrying his blanket over his arm.
XIX. BOURLON WOOD AND THE HINDENBURG LINE
Two of the most serious checks to the 3rd Army advance on Cambrai were the villages of Bourlon and Fontaine Notre Dame, respectively at the north-west and south-east corners of Bourlon Wood. The latter village, too, was almost at the entrance to Cambrai on the Bapaume-Cambrai road.
Both these villages had been captured towards the end of November, but were afterwards retaken. The Guards Division, who had preceded the 47th Division, accordingly attacked them again, and before the Civil Service Rifles left Le Transloy it was learned that the attack had succeeded, though the enemy very soon recaptured both villages once more.
It was understood, however, that the English advance was to continue, and when the Civil Service Rifles reached Doignies, the battle surplus had already been sent back to the Divisional Reinforcement Camp. As the situation in the front line underwent such frequent changes, there had been nothing in the nature of a rehearsal of the coming battle, which it was expected would be more in the nature of open warfare than had been any of the previous operations of the 47th Division.
On arriving at Doignies, Colonel Segrave received orders for his Battalion to occupy part of the Hindenburg Line on the following day (the 28th), and at a very early hour, he started with his Adjutant, Medical Officer, Signals Officer and four Company Commanders for the Headquarters of the front line brigade. The Battalion, in fighting order, moved off later in the morning and occupied a part of the Hindenburg Line nearly due west of Graincourt.
At Brigade Headquarters Colonel Segrave learnt that he was to relieve one of the Cavalry regiments holding the front line in Bourlon Wood, but the date of relief was not then settled. He therefore took his party across country, passing within a hundred yards or so of Graincourt, across sunken roads, to a sugar factory on the Bapaume-Cambrai road, where it was understood a guide would be found.
Leaving the sugar factory, many signs of the recent advance were seen, German equipment, rifles and ammunition being scattered almost everywhere. Derelict English tanks and aeroplanes were also to be seen, and the landscape generally presented a desolate picture.
The Cavalry Headquarters occupied what had been a pretty chalet in a delightful spot in the middle of the wood--an ideal place for a summer picnic. There was no suggestion of a summer picnic about it now, however, for the bitter fighting of the past few days had left its mark everywhere, and in and around the chalet were gathered weary warriors, eagerly awaiting the news of their relief.
The members of the reconnoitring party had only just thrown off their equipment for a rest when it was found that they had been brought to the wrong place, so, dispensing with the doubtful services of a guide, Colonel Segrave led his officers through the wood in search of some one willing to be relieved by his Battalion. The right place was found to be in a small German dug-out in the road leading to the village of Bourlon along the western edge of the wood, and here the Colonel, learning that he was to take over that night the positions held by the 2nd Dismounted Cavalry Brigade and the 2nd/5th West Yorks Battalion, made his dispositions and set off with his Adjutant and Medical Officer to find his Battalion in the Hindenburg Line. The Company Commanders remained behind to look round their respective fronts.
On his way back, Colonel Segrave surprised a member of the R.A.M.C. at a dressing station by begging from him a tin of bully beef and a biscuit. The spectacle of a Colonel eating bully beef was too much for the R.A.M.C. man, who stared after the three officers as though he had seen ghosts.
A long wait for orders in the Hindenburg Line ended in the Battalion moving off without any at 9.0 p.m. There was a bright moon, and the night was perfectly quiet at the start, when there was nothing to suggest the exciting time that was in store for the troops before they were to arrive at the front line. But on reaching the Relay Post on the Cambrai road, where the guides and Company Commanders were to have been, the head of the Battalion became enveloped in a barrage of gas shells. The rest of the journey was what is known as “windy” in the extreme. Gas masks had to be worn, and in pushing through the barrage, some casualties were suffered, one platoon of “C” Company losing very heavily after passing Battalion Headquarters.
The relief was complete at about 2.0 a.m., and except for gas shelling the situation became much quieter.
“B” and “D” Companies held the front line, the former, under Lieutenant C. M. Kilner, being on the left, just outside the southern edge of the village, and with half a Company on each side of the road leading from Battalion Headquarters to the village. “D” Company, under Captain R. Middleton, connected with the right of “B” and held a position inside the wood and about 300 yards south-east of the village. “D” Company Headquarters was in a most palatial deep-dug out which had formerly been the Headquarters of a German artillery brigade. “C” Company, under Captain T. H. Sharratt, was in support near “D”. Soon after taking up their positions, both “B” and “D” Companies sent out patrols towards the village, but although Lieutenant W. E. Hoste took his patrol into the village, and entered one or two houses, no Bosches were found.
The quiet night was followed by a distinctly noisy day, throughout which the enemy heavily bombarded the front line positions, the whole of the wood, and the roads all round the outside of the wood.
In the middle of the morning, the Brigadier arrived with the news that there would be no further advance, and that the positions now being held were to be consolidated. “A” Company, who were in reserve, under Lieutenant L. C. Morris, M.C., round about Battalion Headquarters, accordingly spent the rest of the day in carrying barbed wire, pickets, sandbags and ammunition from a dump at the cross roads known as Anneux Chapel to a forward dump near Battalion Headquarters. The casualties during the day amounted to one officer and no less than fifty four other ranks--a pretty heavy toll for a day when no attack took place!
In the opinion of those holding the line, the decision not to advance any further was unnecessary--it was felt that the Battalion might well be engaged very soon in defensive rather than offensive operations, and some such idea was in the mind of Colonel Segrave as he went round the Battalion front that day.
Any remaining doubts as to the enemy intentions were dispersed on the morning of the 30th of November, which opened with an intense bombardment from German guns of every calibre. Smoke barrages were put down on the flanks of the intended attack, and before long the enemy infantry could be seen advancing in many waves from the country beyond Bourlon village. The Battalion was not in signal communication with anybody, either Brigade Headquarters or adjoining units, and the Commanding Officer had therefore to rely on the services of runners and four pigeons. According to the rules of the signal service, pigeons had to be despatched in pairs, so the stock was only good for two messages. When it is mentioned that it took a good runner well over an hour to reach Brigade, the state of isolation of the Battalion will be realised.
The battle raged throughout the morning without any infantry engagement on the front held by the Civil Service Rifles, though S.O.S. rockets were seen on several occasions on adjoining sections of the line.
Company Commanders reported that the attack appeared to be directed on the sectors held on each side of them, but up to midday they had not been interfered with. The waves of enemy infantry had advanced diagonally across their front, and both “B” and “D” Companies had put in some excellent work with rifles and Lewis guns. The enemy, however, was extraordinarily well served by his low-flying aeroplanes, which seemed to swarm like bees over the Battalion area, and the machine-gun fire from these caused a good many casualties during the day.
Prominent among the early incidents of the battle was the performance of Lance Corporal S. Fletcher of the Battalion scouts, and a “D” Company runner who brought the first report from the front line to Battalion Headquarters. The distance they had to cover was more than a mile over very rough country, but in their anxiety to deliver the result of their observations as quickly as possible they ran the whole way, although fully equipped, and carrying rifles. The effort proved too much for the runner, who collapsed on reaching Battalion Headquarters, and fell unconscious down the stairs of the dug-out without being able to deliver his message. The N.C.O. was little better off, but after a time he recovered sufficiently to be able to give a good account of what was going on.
Soon after midday the S.O.S. signal was seen on the Battalion front, and it was reported that a gap had been made in the Brigade front on the left of the line held by “B” Company.
The Support Company, “C,” led by 2nd Lieutenant C. V. Marchant, had by this time moved up to reinforce “B” and “D” Companies, who had both suffered heavy losses. The remnants of the left platoon of “B” Company, finding the line originally held by the Battalion on their left to be unoccupied, pushed along to try to find touch. Instead of finding their friends, however, they found Bosches in large numbers, who appeared to come from all sides, with the result that about ten of the Civil Service Rifles were taken prisoners.
Lieutenant Kilner, observing the enemy in the left rear of the Battalion front, gathered the rest of his Company together and formed a defensive flank in the sunken road on the Western edge of the wood. Meanwhile, Colonel Segrave formed up the personnel of Battalion Headquarters and his reserve Company, “A,” and led them in two waves across the open country outside the wood. Leaving the vicinity of Battalion Headquarters at about 4.0 p.m., they advanced through heavy fire from rifles, machine guns, and low-flying aeroplanes, and although they suffered many casualties, they succeeded before dusk in restoring the line as originally held, and later in the evening established touch on the left with the Post Office Rifles, who had come up from Brigade Reserve to reinforce the line. The example set by their Commanding Officer inspired the men of the Civil Service Rifles with such confidence and enthusiasm, that they carried out their advance as at a Salisbury Plain manœuvre, the Colonel, with a map in one hand and a whistle in the other, giving his directions by signal.
Colonel Segrave’s prompt action was specially commended in a pamphlet afterwards published by General Headquarters entitled “The Story of a Great Fight,” and those who were with him on that day regard it as the finest example of leadership in the history of the Battalion. There was nothing theatrical about the affair--it was just done in the calm and methodical manner in which Colonel Segrave always behaved in the front line.
The effects of the continuous gas shelling during the past three days had told heavily on the Battalion--particularly the Headquarters Company and “A” Company. Of the Headquarters Officers, Colonel Segrave was the only one remaining on the night of the 30th of November, and during the day he had lost no less than four Adjutants, the last one being an Artillery Liaison Officer whom he had converted into an infantryman. The other ranks of Headquarters fared no better, but the losses in the Companies holding the front line were heavier still, and when the 1st Surrey Rifles arrived on the night of the 1st of December, and the Civil Service Rifles moved back into tents at Femy Wood near Havrincourt, the losses in Bourlon Wood were found to be 12 officers, 278 other ranks. At Femy Wood it was found that the Colonel himself was badly gassed, and he too left for hospital on the 2nd of December.
Although it is not possible here to pay just tribute to those gallant fellows individually, special mention must be made of the great loss the Battalion suffered by the death of three of its members who had already done great things, and who would have risen to higher rank in the Regiment before long had they been spared.
C.S.M. Mansbridge, of “D” Company, was as gallant in the front line as he was smart and efficient on the parade ground. An old member of the Regiment who thoroughly understood his brother Warrant Officers, N.C.O.’s, and men, he would undoubtedly have made an ideal Regimental Sergeant Major for the Civil Service Rifles.
Sergeant H. L. Smith, who was acting C.S.M. of “A” Company, had a multitude of friends in all Companies. As “Inky” Smith he had been one of the shining lights of the Lewis gunners, of whom he was one of the first members. He had fought with distinction at Vimy Ridge, and on the Somme, and, like Mansbridge, he was a “17th of March man.” Both were men who quickly won the respect of all who served with them.
Second Lieutenant C. V. Marchant, of “C” Company, was a comparatively young member of the Regiment. Not yet twenty years old, he had just completed a year’s service with the Battalion in France, and during that time he had become very popular with the men of “C” Company, with whom he had served gallantly in the Ypres Salient, and particularly at the battle of Messines. He was cool in battle, keen and fearless. He met his death while leading his Company through the awful barrage of shells and machine gun bullets, but he faced it unflinchingly. The Battalion could ill afford to lose such an officer, who in spite of his youth would soon have made an excellent Company Commander.
“C” Company also lost two valuable members in C.S.M. F. C. Robertson, D.C.M., who was severely wounded on the 29th of November, and Sergeant O. L. H. Levey, wounded on the 30th. Both were “17th of March men,” and Robertson had been a member of the Regiment for many years before the war. He was a quiet unassuming fellow, who was never found wanting, and who was never “rattled” even under the greatest provocation and in the most trying circumstances.
Sergeant Levey was a most enthusiastic member of the Regiment who had distinguished himself by his skill with the rifle. Fortunately he recovered sufficiently from his wounds to return to the Regiment some months later, when he quickly rose to the rank of C.S.M. of his Company. His prowess in the football field gained him fame not only in the Battalion, but throughout the Division.
In addition to the fighting portion of the Battalion, the Transport Section and Quartermaster’s staff suffered casualties in and around Bourlon Wood, the Quartermaster himself, Lieutenant W. G. Hodge, better known as “Ben Hodge,” being gassed on the night of the 29th November while at Battalion Headquarters. On the same night the Transport Column was heavily shelled on the Bapaume-Cambrai Road, with the result that several of the most experienced drivers and horses were wounded.
But in spite of the heavy casualties in Bourlon Wood, and the fact that the enemy bombardment was the most severe and prolonged that the Battalion was called upon to face during the war, the men of the Civil Service Rifles could look back with justifiable pride on their share in the battle, during which they did not yield an inch of ground, although the Bosches gained considerable success in neighbouring parts of the line.
The remnants of the Battalion numbered only about 200, all ranks, when they reached Femy Wood on the 2nd of December with scarcely a kick left in them after their exertions of the past few days, and it came as a great surprise when they had to return to the front line on the 4th of December reinforced by a handful of officers and other ranks from the “non-starters’ camp.”
In order to cover the withdrawal of the 142nd Infantry Brigade from Bourlon Wood, a defensive position on either side of the village of Graincourt was taken up, and there, on the 5th and 6th of December, the Battalion gave yet another exhibition of splendid fighting qualities in its second defensive battle within a week.
The officers who had come up included Major H. Marshall, who was in command of the Battalion, Major H. F. M. Warne, who acted as his second in command, and Captain L. L. Burtt, who commanded “C” and “D” Companies, now formed into one Company. “A” and “B” Companies were amalgamated under Lieutenant L. C. Morris, M.C.
The positions were taken up at dusk, “A” and “B” Companies being on the left along a sunken road running in a north-westerly direction from about the centre of the village, and “C” and “D” on the right were along a similar road which ran due east from the village. The village itself was not occupied, but posts were established near the cemetery in the sunken roads north-east of the village. These were withdrawn at dawn. The 2nd Division was on the left of “A” and “B” Companies, and the 59th Division was on the right of “C” and “D” Companies.
The troops from the front line in Bourlon Wood passed through as arranged, the evacuation of the wood having been rendered necessary owing to the forcing in by the Germans of both arms of the Cambrai Salient.
The whole front was patrolled throughout the night, but until daylight nothing was seen or heard of the enemy, whose front line was about two miles away. Numerous explosions heard in the wood showed that the Royal Engineers were destroying dug-outs and anything likely to be of use to the enemy.
The garrison on the right, numbering less than 120, all ranks, after trying to dig themselves in in the frost bound ground along the side of the road, moved forward to a well-camouflaged German trench which started just outside the village and continued almost to the 59th Division on the right. Leading out of the back of the trench were four old gun pits with the dismantled 5·9’s still there, and at the village end was a trench running forward at right angles.
It should be mentioned that at the outset it was understood that the garrison would be withdrawn after twenty-four hours, but, as after events show, the troops were doomed to disappointment.
The two halves of the Battalion were not in touch with each other at all, and as they fought during these few days as separate units, their experiences are dealt with separately.
At daylight on the 5th of December it was seen from the trench occupied by “C” and “D” Companies that the Germans had discovered the withdrawal from Bourlon Wood, for small parties of them were seen wandering about the deserted front line and in the wood itself, great interest being shown in a derelict tank, which was subsequently used as a signal station.
It was not, however, until the afternoon that the enemy approached to within reasonable distance of Graincourt, but his patrols now became very active, first coming on in small parties, which were easily dispersed by rifle and Lewis gun fire, and later in larger numbers, which were also dispersed in the same way. Some excellent shooting was indulged in about this time by the gallant little bands on either side of the village, but although they were able to keep the enemy off while the daylight lasted, it was obvious that the small force defending the village would not be able to prevent him from entering Graincourt during the night. With the coming of darkness it was found that a considerable number of Germans had reached the village, for patrols and even ration parties encountered them, both in front and in rear of the defending garrison. Runners were also involved in small fights, which were quite frequent during the night on the fringes of the village. In one of these a German machine gun team was overwhelmed, the gun and one man being captured, and the rest of the team being killed.
Just as the men of “C” and “D” Companies were expecting to be withdrawn, Major Warne arrived from Battalion Headquarters to take command of the garrison on the right, with orders to hold the position for another twenty-four hours, and, on withdrawal, to occupy a strong post in the rear.
One must have endured the strain of prolonged fighting in a precarious position, worn out by constant watching, with little food or water, and many other discomforts too numerous to mention, in order to realise how intense was the disappointment of these men who, thinking that Major Warne came to tell them their work was done and to take them back to rest, learnt that their job had only just begun.
At about 5.0 a.m. on the 6th, a Lewis gun was posted in the road about 300 yards south of the village with orders to deal with the enemy there as far as possible, but to withdraw if the opposition became too strong, to a strong post about a mile further down the road towards the village of Flesquieres. An enemy patrol soon tried to rush the gun, but without success, and a wounded prisoner was captured as a result.
At daylight two parties tried to rush the gun. Both were beaten off, but not before the gun team had suffered two casualties. As other parties of the enemy were on the move for a further attack, the gun team was ordered to withdraw to the aforementioned point, where the gun was soon in action again in helping to repel an attack on the strong point itself.
Meantime Major Warne’s force was still holding on, and the incidents of the 6th of December are thus described by Sergeant C. Manthorp, who, with Sergeant E. Cooke, was conspicuous throughout the operation by gallantry and good leadership:--
“When dawn broke on the 6th, we were very much on the alert to see what surprises were in store for us, and directly we could see any distance we were well rewarded. The whole German army seemed to be advancing, line after line, crossing the skyline and coming directly for us. Fortunately for us their orders were obviously not to attack, for when the front line got to within 600 or 700 yards from our trench, they started digging in, or at least making a trench sufficiently deep for protection from our fire. Whilst the advancing and entrenching was proceeding, we, of course, indulged in a fair amount of rifle practice, and not without good results, though, of course, the distance was rather great for anything sensational. After digging-in, the Bosche lay quite dormant for some hours, and we, of course, were on tenter-hooks to know what his next move would be, for with the little force at our disposal, it would have been hopeless to expect us to hold off what must have been thousands of Bosches, should they have chosen to attack.
“It was early afternoon before the next move came. Then all the lines of Bosches in front of us attacked, but right across our front on to the 59th Division, the movement being for them a half left movement. Then we had all the shooting we desired. The machine-gunners had a fine time, and so did our riflemen, who were mostly collected in the four gun pits, which were higher than the floor of the trench and enabled us to fire over our camouflage, which was composed of wire netting, turf, etc., and made firing from the greater part of the trench impossible.
“By about 3.0 p.m. the Bosches appeared to have gone right through the position held by the 59th Division, and it looked to us as if the latter had been compelled to retire by weight of numbers. Of course this made our position untenable with the Bosches in our right, rear, and working round us, and the village between us and the remainder of our Battalion also in enemy hands.
“About 70 yards in rear of our trench and parallel with it, ran a sunken road, connecting the village on our left. Parties of Bosches commenced to approach each way along this road, and this forced us to withdraw most of our garrison from the trench and form a semi-circle with each end resting on the road. Things soon became very exciting, and then those of us who were out at the back of the trench, received the order to retire. From the sunken road back to the permanent front line must have been about 1½ miles, and that journey proved about the most exciting that any of us had experienced. The party’s strength was two officers and probably about 100 other ranks, and the retirement was done in extended order. At the start off we were received with fire from nearly every direction, and also a little shell fire which may or may not have been meant for us. After going about half a mile, we had the best part of the whole business. We came across at least 100 of the enemy in more or less close order, and did not actually discover them until they were within about 100 yards of us, owing to the folds in the ground. It is difficult to say who appeared to be the most surprised, they or us, but we did not give them long to think about it. We flopped and opened rapid fire on them, and also got our Lewis guns going. Our Lewis gunners had been cursing about their loads, but we were more than glad of the guns under the circumstances. This big party of Bosches quickly took fright and it was laughable to see them all double off back towards home like a flock of sheep. It was a marvellous target, only about 200 or 300 yards away. You simply couldn’t miss, and, of course, our success gave us great help on our journey, for most of us were nearly done, owing to the bitter nights we had had with no proper hot food. Having disposed of this body, we encountered no further opposition from Fritz except occasional rifle fire, and we took four stray Germans prisoners along with us. We were then about three-quarters of a mile from our goal, and came upon a small cable trench about three feet deep running towards our lines. Just about this time, one of our own aeroplanes came upon the scene and indulged in a little machine-gun practice on us, but quickly discovered his mistake. Still, it all helped to cheer us on the way. I was about the first to get into the cable trench, and with the prisoners in front, led the way back to where the Royal Welsh Fusiliers were holding the permanent line. They also mistook us for Bosches, possibly because of the four prisoners in front, and subjected us to rather severe machine-gun fire. It was not till I had waved my shrapnel helmet for some time on top of my rifle as high as I could hold it, that they recognised us as friends. Then one of our officers, who happened to be with them, got out of the trench and led us in. It appeared that they had already beaten off one attack during the afternoon, so one could not be surprised at their mistaking us for foes.
“After some delay we eventually got the remains of the two Companies back to Rest Camp, whence we had started off on the evening of the 4th. There were about 15 of ‘C’ Company who got out and 40 of ‘D’ Company.
“Those of us who did get through can certainly look back upon the affair as one of the most strenuous and exciting experiences we had in France.”
Sergeant Cooke has also written an excellent description of the same action, which bears out his comrade’s story:--
“Daylight on the 6th found everything quiet, but during the morning large bodies of troops were observed filing into Anneux--a village between Graincourt and Bourlon Wood--and it was evident that an attack from this direction was to be expected. The arrival of a motor car, which was at first mistaken for a tank, caused some excitement, but, apart from this and visits from scouting planes, nothing of interest happened until about 3.0 p.m. when the attack from Anneux was launched.
The attack, in the form of several waves of infantry, was mainly directed against the positions right of Graincourt, leaving ‘A’ and ‘B’ Companies practically untouched.
The remaining Companies, leaving the gun pits and taking up positions in the open from which more effective use of the rifle could be made, opened a steady and accurate fire on the advancing waves, with the result that the attack on their immediate front crumpled up.
“Attention was now diverted to the right flank, where the enemy appeared to be meeting with more success, and it was discovered that the Battalion on the right had retired earlier in the day--their withdrawal having been hidden from the Civil Service Rifles by rising ground between the two positions.
“The situation was now serious, as the enemy had closed round the right rear of ‘C’ and ‘D’ Companies, whilst at the same time the left rear of the position was threatened by troops from Graincourt, and the order was given for the garrison to cut its way out and make for the strong points in front of Flesquieres.
“Many casualties from machine-gun fire were suffered in getting clear of the encircling troops, but about 50 of the two Companies were left to continue the journey back to the strong points.
“After numerous encounters with isolated machine-gun posts this party ran into some 200 or 300 of the enemy in an organised line of shell holes before the positions in front of Flesquieres, where the attack had been beaten off earlier in the afternoon, and, as the line was well supplied with light machine guns, the chances of getting through seemed decidedly slender until a Red Cross man advanced making the usual signs of surrender.
“The effect was remarkable, for no sooner had his action been seen than, with a yell, the Civil Service Rifles charged down on the enemy, who, being taken by surprise, hastily crowded off into a small valley, where they afforded excellent targets for the remaining ammunition of the riflemen and Lewis gunners.
“A few prisoners were collected, and a fresh start made for the British lines, but, owing to the gathering twilight the party was mistaken for the enemy and subjected to heavy machine-gun fire which caused further casualties.
“Eventually, by working their way down a shallow ditch originally intended for a telephone cable, the battered remnant of ‘C’ and ‘D’ Companies managed to get near enough to attract the attention of a machine-gun officer who guided them into the Strong Point from which the long and slippery march back to Havrincourt was commenced.”
* * * * *
When the withdrawal from Graincourt began, the right garrison had been divided into two parties, the smaller, consisting of Major Warne, Captain Burtt, Second-Lieutenants Potts and Houslop, with about 20 or 30 other ranks, being in the trench, and the larger party, under Second Lieutenants Lacy and King, being outside. Second Lieutenant Lacy was wounded during the withdrawal, and afterwards died of wounds, whilst Second Lieutenant King was last seen in the rear of the party as it withdrew, binding up a wounded N.C.O., and was afterwards taken prisoner. The officers and men in the trench found themselves surrounded by Boches, and after lying quiet for some time they decided to try to work their way back to the British lines.
Darkness had now fallen, and they had not gone far on their journey before they ran into a large body of the enemy, who took them prisoners and led them back through Graincourt and Bourlon Wood, stopping at the late “D” Company Headquarters, thence via Cambrai to Le Cateau, where they were split up into different camps.
Much space has been given to the description of the action of “C” and “D” Companies because, of the two halves of the Battalion, their task was much the more complicated. “A” and “B” Companies, on the left of the village, were in touch with Battalion Headquarters throughout.
The big German attack on the 6th of December moved across their front, but well away from their positions. They were thus able to put in some excellent shooting with comparatively little opposition from the enemy. Their patrols, however, were frequently in contact with enemy patrols, and fought with great credit in the numerous “street corner” fights on the outskirts of the village.
The left garrison was withdrawn at 5.30 p.m. on the 6th, and reached Havrincourt without any serious interruption.
The Regimental Aid Post was withdrawn at 6.0 p.m., all the wounded who could be found having been sent down.
Battalion Headquarters reached Havrincourt shortly before midnight, and after a day in tents in Havrincourt Wood, the Battalion moved, on the 8th of December, to billets in the village of Bertincourt, where at last there was time to pause and count the cost. The stay in this village was simply a repetition of the experience in Henencourt Wood in 1916, with the melancholy writing of letters of condolence and despatching of “effects.”
After a week spent at Bertincourt, where the remainder of the “battle surplus” rejoined from the Divisional Reinforcement Camp, the Battalion moved up to take over a piece of line in front of Havrincourt. The troops had been hoping to go back for a rest, and the return to the line came as a not very pleasant surprise, and the statements of Company Commanders that the Battalion would certainly be back at rest for Christmas were received with a certain amount of scepticism.
The neighbourhood of Graincourt proved to be a less exciting place on this occasion, and after six cold but uneventful days the Battalion set off by train to the back area for a rest, and for what was generally felt to be a well-deserved Christmas holiday.
Snow lay thick on the ground when the Battalion marched into the village of Morlancourt, where it was to spend the rest. If the weather was seasonable, that is more than could be said for most of the billets, and a good deal of work had to be done in some of them to obtain any degree of comfort. The Christmas spirit, however, was abroad, and the troops, after their recent experiences, were not in the mood to worry about minor discomforts. The place was hardly one “to write home about,” but the estaminets were plentiful and well stocked, and as a change from Bourlon Wood or even Bertincourt, the village of Morlancourt, with all its drawbacks, was appreciated.
Parades were few, and preparations for Christmas festivities were the order of the day. These were to take the form of plenty to eat, plenty to drink, and concerts and sing-songs in some of the largest halls and barns of the village. Time was too short to permit of the production of a revue or pantomime, though a cynic suggested that the authorities had some such idea in their minds when they called on the Quartermaster’s staff to provide a guard one evening.
The Christmas dinners were a great success. No building, of course, could be found in the village to accommodate the whole Battalion, but it was found possible for “A” and “B” Companies to sit down to dinner together in one place, and “C” and “D” in another. All the officers met together for dinner later in the day.
The fare was varied and plentiful, joints of pork making a welcome change from the everlasting beef and mutton of the Army menu. Concerts and other forms of merrymaking passed away the remainder of the day, and the good spirits of the troops testified to their enjoyment of the Christmas festivities.
The sergeants were planning a dinner for the New Year, and preparations were practically complete when a hard-hearted Staff ordered a move to the neighbouring villages of Ribemont and Mericourt, where the other Battalions of the Brigade were already stationed. The remainder of the holiday was spent in these villages, where the Civil Service Battalion, as last comer, was unfortunate in the allotment of billets, and the men were spread over a large area.
The postponed sergeants’ dinner, attended by the Commanding Officer and acting Adjutant, was held at Ribemont.
On the 10th of January the Battalion moved back by train to work, spending one night at Bertincourt before moving up to support positions in the village of Ribecourt. Now followed two tours, to the sectors in front of Ribecourt and Flesquières, during which there is little outside the ordinary events of trench warfare to record. While in reserve, the Battalion was stationed at Bertincourt, a dilapidated village, where some of the billets were Nissen huts and others damaged houses, and where the chief feature at the time was mud. This neighbourhood was a favourite one for the operations of the Boche night bombers. The Civil Service Rifles had had previous experience of this form of annoyance in billets, and in spite of the extra duties occasioned by Lewis gun anti-aircraft posts, the troops soon regarded the nightly visits of the planes as philosophically as the most hardened Londoner.
At the beginning of February the man-power question was so acute in the British Infantry that it was decided to reduce Infantry Brigades from four to three Battalions--“in order to make a Brigade more mobile and more easily controlled by the Brigade Commander,” said the official explanation. In the 47th Division the three Battalions to be broken up in consequence of this order were the 6th, 7th, and 8th City of London Battalions, who, with the Civil Service Rifles, had till then formed the 140th Brigade. The 17th and 21st Battalions (Poplar and Stepneys and First Surrey Rifles respectively) were transferred from the other Brigades of the Division to complete the 140th. This measure came to the Battalions broken up as an unexpected and sudden shock, the force of which will be fully understood and appreciated by every soldier who knows the strength of the bonds which keep the members of a Battalion together. The men of the Civil Service Rifles, realising what their own feelings would have been if it had fallen to their lot to be split up, were full of sympathy for the fellows who had been their comrades and their rivals for nearly three years of active service.
A number of officers and other ranks of the 6th Battalion were transferred to the Civil Service, and, in spite of the soreness which they must have felt at the loss of the identity of the Battalion whose high name and fame they had helped to win, they settled down to give to their new unit the same wholehearted service that they had given to their own.
One of the results of this reorganisation was the acquisition by the Civil Service of the brass band of the 6th Battalion. Strengthened by the inclusion of some of the more expert musicians of the existing drum and fife band, this band, under the direction of Sergeant W. H. Blackmore, quickly became one of the most valuable assets of the Regiment, and remains so to this day, for Mr. Blackmore still has charge of the Regimental Band, which includes in its ranks the majority of the men who served with him in France. The Regimental Band is one of the most successful features of the post-war Civil Service Rifles.